The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 229: It’s Time for Me to Claim Everything (3)

Clang!

Yurgen parried Bernarf’s sword, which was flying at him head-on, and blocked Caleb’s blade, which came slashing in from the side.

But they weren’t the only ones who charged at him.

Whirrr!

Vulcan’s steel club swung in, aiming for Yurgen’s legs. Seeing it, Yurgen tried to pull his sword away immediately.

Clack!

However, Caleb’s sword breaker caught the blade, delaying Yurgen from withdrawing his weapon. Naturally, his reaction was also slower as a result.

Boom!

“Gahhh!”

The steel club smashed into Yurgen’s shin, causing him to stagger momentarily. Despite maximizing his mana to defend himself, it felt like his bones had fractured.

Having expended too much energy fighting Bernarf earlier, he couldn’t fully protect himself this time.

Still, the title of “Northern First Sword” wasn’t for show. This much wasn’t enough to bring him down.

“How dare you!”

Crunch!

With a burst of mana, Yurgen shattered the serrated edge of the sword breaker that had bound his blade and yanked his sword free. Even Caleb, usually expressionless, showed a flicker of admiration at the sheer force before retreating a few steps.

But Yurgen still had another opponent to face.

Thrust!

“Urgh!”

Taking advantage of Yurgen’s unsteady stance after the combined assault, Conrad’s rapier pierced his neck with lightning speed.

“You bastards… urk!”

However, Yurgen, who possessed overwhelming mana, wasn’t going to die easily from a simple piercing wound.

Determined to take at least one of them with him, he raised his sword once more, but Caleb, who had slipped behind him, drew a dagger and stabbed Yurgen’s neck repeatedly.

Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!

“Guh… gah!”

Caleb showed no change in expression as he coldly and methodically stabbed Yurgen’s neck again and again. The other attendees in the banquet hall paled at the sight.

“Hey, hey! Move aside! The club’s coming through!”

Hearing Vulcan shout as he raised his steel club high, Caleb stepped back smoothly.

Gritting his teeth, Vulcan brought the club crashing down on Yurgen’s head.

Boom!

With a deafening impact, Yurgen’s head was utterly crushed in a single blow.

Thud!

Yurgen’s corpse swayed for a moment before collapsing onto the floor.

A heavy silence filled the banquet hall. No one dared to speak.

Yurgen, the Northern First Sword, was not only Raypold’s pride but also a symbol of its martial strength.

He was said to be capable of holding off a hundred knights at once. Such a feat was a prerequisite for earning the title of the best swordsman in a region.

Indeed, Yurgen had numerous accolades, having slaughtered dozens of knights single-handedly in various conflict zones.

Yet, here he lay, felled by the coordinated assault of a ragtag group brought by Amelia. It was a death as abrupt as it was tragic.

It happened with just three people, and without even exchanging many blows. The event unfolded so swiftly that the other knights didn’t even have a chance to intervene.

Bernarf, who had been pushed back by the sudden interference of the other three, wore a sullen expression.

“I was the one who exhausted him…”

He had wanted to use this as an opportunity to impress Amelia, but once again, he had missed his chance. All he got for his effort was wasted energy without any gain.

Seeing Bernarf pout and stick out his lower lip, Amelia shook her head slightly.

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She knew exactly what he was after. His inner thoughts were so blatantly obvious, to the point where it was both a strength and a weakness depending on the situation.

“You did well, Bernarf. Good job.”

At Amelia’s praise, Bernarf’s face lit up immediately.

“I was the first one to be complimented, so that means I won.”

Caleb, Vulcan, and Conrad didn’t care in the slightest, but Bernarf was already deep in his own imaginary competition, passionately declaring himself the winner.

For Bernarf, any contest was always about who could impress Amelia more. Who landed the killing blow on Yurgen didn’t matter at all.

As long as he received her praise first, that was enough. To him, it meant he was the best.

Amelia looked at Yurgen’s corpse and muttered softly.

“Phew, finally, the most troublesome one is dead. Why couldn’t he just trust us to handle it?”

She had meticulously studied everything about Yurgen, from his skills to his smallest habits, and had crafted the perfect strategy to deal with him. The only reason she hadn’t acted sooner was because Harold hadn’t trusted her and kept hesitating.

From Harold’s perspective, it was understandable. He didn’t fully grasp the abilities of Amelia’s subordinates, as most of them, including Bernarf, were individuals she had personally recruited.

The only one Harold had any familiarity with was Vulcan, who had once been a fairly infamous bandit. Beyond that, he knew little about the others.

“Alright, let’s tidy this up, shall we?”

Amelia casually glanced around at the terrified attendees who had huddled together, trembling.

Count Raypold had collapsed in shock after witnessing Yurgen’s death. The knights who had been forming a defensive stance also lowered their swords in surrender.

It was over. With Yurgen—their last hope—dead, no one could leave this place alive without Amelia’s permission.

She gave Bernarf a slight nod and said, “Sort them out. Make sure to send our guests off safely and respectfully.”

Following Bernarf’s command, Amelia’s soldiers began herding the ones they had decided to spare into a corner of the banquet hall.

These included powerless noble daughters, some officials, knights who had surrendered, and nobles who had been invited from other territories.

Meanwhile, Count Raypold, tightly bound, was dragged away separately.

“Let go of me! You insolent scoundrels! I am the master of this land! Me! The one you should swear loyalty to is not that wench but me! I will never forgive you! My army and my vassals are watching with eyes wide open. I will have you all slaughtered!”

No matter how much he shouted, Count Raypold’s knights and soldiers held him firmly with expressionless faces.

The only ones remaining in the banquet hall now were the retainers who once held power, the commanders of the gathered armies, and the sons and relatives of Count Raypold who were within the line of succession.

At a slight gesture from Amelia, her soldiers silently surrounded them. Seeing this, those left in the hall turned pale and cried out.

“Please, spare us, Amelia!”

“This is wrong! We are family!”

“My lady! Please, have mercy! We swear loyalty to you! We will follow you unconditionally!”

Despite their desperate pleas, Amelia didn’t so much as blink.

The moment her hand dropped.

Thwack, thwack, thwack!

Her soldiers unleashed a volley of crossbow bolts. The sharp projectiles tore through the defenseless people without hesitation.

“Arrrgh!”

With screams of agony, they all collapsed to the ground. It didn’t take long for their lives to ebb away.

The banquet hall’s floor was stained crimson with their spilled blood. Those spared and set aside earlier trembled in fear, shrinking into themselves.

“Ugh… ughhhh…”

Count Raypold watched it all unfold with a hollow, broken expression.

“Ugh… ughhhhh…”

He couldn’t even form coherent words, emitting only pitiful groans. Though his legs threatened to give out, he wasn’t allowed the freedom to collapse.

The soldiers held him firmly, refusing to let him even sit down.

Amelia walked up to Count Raypold, looking him straight in the eyes.

“You… you… you…”

Count Raypold stammered, unable to speak properly due to the shock.

The daughter he had always dismissed had snatched the throne from him in an instant. His loyal retainers were dead, and the Northern First Sword, who had always protected him, was also gone.

He couldn’t believe this was real. How could such a thing even happen?

This had to be a nightmare.

“You… you…”

He had left her alone because of her quiet nature and good reputation, assuming she wasn’t interested in marriage.

After she had broken off her engagement with Ghislain Ferdium, her age made finding a new match difficult, but she still had a knack for calming the estate’s people, so he had thought she was a benefit to the family.

But all of that was an act? She had been preparing all along to steal his position?

If he had known this, he would have married her off to even a lesser family long ago!

“You… how dare you… you wench!”

He wanted to curse and spew venom, but no words came out. Something seemed lodged in his throat, making it impossible to utter a single syllable.

“Guh… guh…”

They say power is not something even shared with one’s own children.

For Count Raypold, losing his throne to the daughter he had always ignored was far more agonizing and shocking than the deaths of his sons, his loyal retainers, and his knights.

His bloodshot eyes burned with fury, and froth frothed at his mouth as he glared at Amelia. She, however, said nothing.

She simply stood there, staring at him in silence, as though contemplating something. After what seemed like an eternity, she finally spoke a single word.

“Take him away.”

“You! You!”

Even as he was dragged away in his wretched state, Count Raypold turned his head to glare at Amelia with unrelenting hatred.

As their eyes met, Amelia seemed to recall something. Her expression shifted slightly, and she called out.

“Wait.”

The soldiers halted. Count Raypold, still turning his head, continued to glare at her with a murderous gaze.

Amelia’s mind drifted back to a distant memory of happier times with her father.

― “Daddy, Daddy!“
― “Oh! My beloved daughter is here!“

When Amelia was still young, the count had often lifted her into his arms, holding her tightly and rubbing their cheeks together.

Even back then, their eyes would meet just as they did now.

Looking into his eyes now, she remembered the words she had spoken back then with a bright smile.

Smiling just as she had in the past, Amelia repeated those same words.

“Happy birthday, Father.”

Today was Count Raypold’s birthday.

* * *

“Arrghhh!”

“Spare me!”

The slaughter that began in the banquet hall extended far beyond it into the night. Commanders who hadn’t attended the banquet were ambushed and either killed or captured and executed.

The same fate awaited the retainers and officials. Anyone who could have opposed Amelia or who had previously looked down on her was dealt with without exception.

The now-vacant positions were filled with individuals loyal to her.

By the time the new day dawned, the lordship of Raypold had completely shifted to Amelia’s hands.

News of this spread rapidly, and soon the people of the territory poured into the streets, shouting their approval.

“Hurrah! The lord has changed!”

“Lady Amelia is the new countess!”

“We pledge our loyalty to you!”

The people were genuinely overjoyed.

Amelia had always been held in high regard by the people of the territory. She had consistently cared for them and helped those in need for a long time.

Not long ago, during a famine, she had distributed food generously to those suffering. It was food she had stockpiled at a low price thanks to Ghislain’s efforts.

Of course, Count Raypold and his retainers had harshly rebuked her for it.

― “How dare you waste such precious food on those lowly peasants! Take it back and store it in the estate’s granary immediately!“
― “My wealth is mine to spend as I see fit. The estate exists because of its people. Please, treat them with respect.“

― “How dare this wench speak so arrogantly in front of me! Seize all of Amelia’s stored provisions immediately!”

Count Raypold forcibly confiscated the food supplies Amelia had been stockpiling. Little did he know that what he took was only a fraction of the total.

News of this spread across the estate in an instant, almost as if someone had deliberately set the rumors loose.

Although food distribution ceased afterward, the estate’s residents blamed Count Raypold alone, harboring no resentment toward Amelia. In fact, they revered her even more, praising her for defying her father’s will to care for them.

Amelia toured the estate in an opulent, open-view carriage typically reserved for triumphant processions, distributing food to the people once again.

The cheers and excitement grew louder. The people were genuinely welcoming the change in leadership.

Watching Amelia wear a radiant and compassionate smile, Bernarf couldn’t help, but clicked his tongue.

“Truly, she’s impossible to pin down. Sometimes she’s like a demon, other times like an angel… Ah! What am I even thinking? Of course, she’s an angel!”

Ashamed of his momentary doubts, Bernarf slapped his own cheeks a few times.

Amid the crowd gathered around the carriage, a young girl was waving a necklace made of flowers enthusiastically.

Noticing this, Amelia stopped the carriage, stepped down, and asked the girl,

“Did you bring this for me?”

“Yes!”

The girl nodded eagerly, her face flushed with excitement.

“Thank you so much. I’ll treasure it.”

Amelia put the flower necklace around her neck and gave the girl a warm hug. Though the necklace was a crude, shabby thing, Amelia treated it as though she had received a glittering jewel.

“Wow! That’s our Amelia!”

“Meow!”

The crowd’s cheers grew even louder. Amid the lively and noisy atmosphere, Amelia also smiled brightly, though her gaze remained cold and calculating.

Where could he be? Where could he possibly be hiding?

A small issue had arisen during the cleanup of the “banquet.”

Upon inspecting the corpses of those who had died at the banquet, they discovered that the body of Fourth Prince Daven was missing.

Daven’s carriage had been spotted at the lord’s castle, so they naturally assumed he had attended the banquet. Yet, not only was Daven missing, but his personal guard and attendants had also vanished without a trace.

Suppressing her unease, Amelia completed the parade without letting her feelings show. She planned to continue touring the estate to stabilize the public sentiment.

Though she had long worked to build her reputation, it was crucial to solidify the transition of leadership swiftly and decisively.

After returning to the lord’s castle, Amelia tore off the flower necklace from her neck and shouted, “Daven! Have you found Daven yet?”

“I apologize, my lady. We still have no information…”

Bernarf stammered nervously.

Initially, they had thought he might be in the restroom or having a secret rendezvous in the garden. Given that the castle was surrounded, they believed he couldn’t escape.

But no matter how thoroughly they searched, there was no sign of him.

Amelia’s face contorted with anger as she said coldly,

“Find that bastard immediately and drag him before me.”

“Meow!”

“Understood.”

Chastened once again, Bernarf slumped and began an exhaustive search of the entire estate.

Caleb’s smuggling network, Vulcan’s bandits, and Conrad’s merchant guild were all mobilized to track down Daven.

As befitted a northern grand lord, Count Raypold had extensive personal connections and official alliances. Amelia had to renegotiate relationships with his allies and vassals.

If it became known that Daven was alive, it could cause severe complications. After all, the kingdom frowned upon women inheriting noble titles.

But whether he had vanished into the earth or soared into the skies, Daven was proving impossible to locate.

Amelia’s subordinates retraced Daven’s steps, piecing together fragments of information. It was only after several days that they finally found a lead.

Upon learning of Daven’s whereabouts, Bernarf’s face hardened, and he muttered,

“He’s there? Why? I heard he declined that banquet… Wait, could it be?”

Daven had left the estate over a month ago, leaving behind a decoy in his place.

At the same moment Bernarf confirmed Daven’s whereabouts, Ghislain spoke with a trembling figure before him, smiling as he said,

“You realize I just saved your life, don’t you?”