The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 231: No, You Have to Go Back. (2)

Outside the castle, Gillian bowed his head to Ghislain and reported.

“The preparations for departure are complete.”

“Good. Make sure to deliver Daven and the supplies to Baron Valois as quickly as possible, before Amelia has a chance to act.”

“Understood.”

Before Daven could even regain his senses, Gillian dragged him off and joined the procession.

The forces of Fenris moved toward Baron Valois’s territory at full speed, without rest.

At that moment, Amelia received the report that Ghislain had taken Daven and clenched her teeth in frustration.

‘How? How did he manage to time it perfectly and send Daven away?’

She knew well that Ghislain had a detailed grasp of her actions. When he had extorted 20,000 gold from her in the past, it hadn’t felt like a mere guess or random gamble.

But predicting the exact moment she would act and removing Daven beforehand? That was something she hadn’t anticipated. And to top it off, he had even held a banquet to throw up a smokescreen?

‘That bastard Ghislain…’

Amelia’s insides boiled with rage.

She had always thought of him as a peculiar but ultimately disposable opponent. But this time, after being thoroughly outplayed by Ghislain, she realized how wrong she had been.

Even while keeping an eye on him since he seized Count Cabaldi’s territory, she had fallen for his schemes.

‘The difference in information was too great. No, it’s not just about information.’

At this level, it was as if he had directly observed and predicted her and Harold’s every move.

Amelia revisited all of Ghislain’s accomplishments so far.

The development of the Forest of Beasts, the victory in the Ferdium siege, the creation of cosmetics, his prediction of the drought, the rumors of a flying machine, and countless knights rallying under his banner.

‘Is this… something a single person could achieve in such a short period of time?’

A chill ran down Amelia’s spine.

It was logically impossible. His achievements alone were comparable to those of a legendary hero in a nation’s founding myth.

Even the drought preparedness, which she had initially attributed to luck, now seemed like a genuine prediction.

Could she have acted like Ghislain in his position?

‘No. It was impossible.’

It would require extraordinary knowledge and experience. On top of that, a near-supernatural insight and a great deal of luck.

Crack.

Her teeth ground together unconsciously.

A strange sense of defeat overcame her. She was furious at the thought that Ghislain had foreseen and countered her every move.

But now was not the time to dwell on such feelings.

‘What’s done is done. There’s no point in regretting the past. I just need to settle the score.’

‘Think. Think. What is that bastard planning to do next?’

‘He’s no ordinary opponent. I need to predict his actions.’

‘If I were Ghislain, how would I exploit this situation?’

Once she had fully secured control over Raypold, she needed to join forces with Harold to strike at Ghislain. After all, Ghislain was currently the biggest obstacle to Harold’s conquest of the north.

Ghislain would surely anticipate that much. He would take measures to prevent her from aligning with Harold.

‘Using Daven would provide a justification to attack this region.’

Amelia considered this possibility but quickly shook her head.

This was the same man who had extorted 20,000 gold by threatening his fiancée. Would someone like him accept the losses involved in deploying his own forces?

Absolutely not.

‘In that case…’

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There was only one answer. He would entrust Daven to someone capable of opposing her.

“Bring me a map! Now!”

Shwaak!

Amelia’s eyes scanned the regions surrounding Raypold at lightning speed.

Of the seven baronies, she had already secured the loyalty of four through a mix of coercion and persuasion.

That left three. Amelia’s mind raced.

‘Where is it? Where could it be?’

The fact that he had taken the heir away meant he intended to incite a civil war in Raypold. His goal was to tie her down and drain her strength.

That was something she absolutely had to prevent.

‘Not this one.’

One of the remaining three baronies was too close to Raypold Castle and lacked the strength to ensure Daven’s safety.

That left two.

Both were relatively far from Raypold. In fact, they were closer to Ghislain’s Count Cabaldi territory.

Amelia’s gaze locked onto a specific spot on the map as she bit her lips in frustration.

The southernmost region of Raypold, known as the “Shield of Raypold.”

A land ruled by a steadfast and loyal vassal of Raypold.

‘Baron Valois!’

If she were Ghislain, she would undoubtedly send Daven to this place.

Along with enough provisions to withstand a prolonged conflict.

Amelia gestured sharply to Bernarf and spoke urgently.

“Form a pursuit team immediately and—”

She cut herself off mid-sentence, gritting her teeth. Her clenched fists trembled slightly.

‘It’s already too late.’

Even if she mobilized troops now, it wouldn’t make a difference.

If Daven had traveled alone, he would already be safely within Baron Valois’s territory. Sending forces now would be futile.

If he had traveled with provisions, they might not have arrived yet, but the accompanying troops would be substantial enough to render a hastily assembled team ineffective.

Her opponent had been thoroughly prepared and deliberate in his actions. Rushing things now would only lead to failure.

The Ghislain she had come to know was no longer an enemy to be underestimated.

Closing her eyes, she steadied herself, her breathing gradually slowing until her composure returned.

“Bernarf.”

“Yes.”

“Notify the lords of the two remaining baronies, excluding Baron Valois, that they have one month to pledge their loyalty. If they do not swear allegiance within that time, I’ll deploy the army against them.”

“And Baron Valois?”

“There’s no point contacting him. Begin preparing for an assault immediately. He’ll hole up in his castle and refuse to come out. Ensure we have proper siege equipment for the attack—I’ll personally see to it that he is crushed.”

At that moment, Conrad, the leader of the Actium Merchant Guild, cautiously offered his opinion.

“Baron Valois is a renowned commander. Wouldn’t it be wiser to attempt persuading him?”

“He’ll resist to the bitter end. That’s just the kind of man he is. And besides…”

Amelia’s expression turned cold as she continued.

“Daven is there as well. I’ll make sure to sever his head myself.”

“Good, everything’s progressing smoothly.”

When Gillian returned after safely delivering Daven, Ghislain’s face lit up with a satisfied smile.

Amelia would have no choice but to engage in war with Baron Valois.

Once that happened, she’d be too preoccupied with the conflict to meddle on this side. Any further schemes from her would also become difficult to execute.

Baron Valois wasn’t someone who could be dealt with easily while one’s attention was divided.

Meanwhile, Harold was under pressure from the Royal Faction, leaving him unable to start a war immediately.

‘After his failed assassination attempt, Harold must be fuming and plotting his next move.’

Both adversaries were in positions where they couldn’t act recklessly. Ghislain intended to take advantage of this lull to focus on developing his territory.

Within the territory, the number of large-scale incubators had increased dramatically, leading to an explosion in poultry production.

With an abundance of meat, the citizens of the territory were ecstatic, their cheers echoing through the land.

“Lord Ghislain truly is remarkable!”

“How does he even come up with these ideas?”

“An abundance of meat! I never thought I’d see this day in my lifetime!”

For the territory’s people, meat was a rarity—something they could barely dream of. Many of them couldn’t even afford bread, let alone meat.

Previously, the limited meat supply was reserved for nobles and knights. Even they had struggled to enjoy it after the drought, which had significantly reduced livestock numbers.

But now, meat—chicken, specifically—was abundant everywhere, bringing immense joy to the people.

Even the elves undergoing physical training indulged in the long-lost luxury of eating meat to their hearts’ content, some of them tearing up with emotion.

‘Damn it… Why does this make me so happy? It’s not like I’ve been given a luxury item.’

‘We used to eat only the finest foods…’

‘This wretched territory… it’s so infuriating…’

It was delicious, yet it brought them to tears. Watching Gordon devour 100 chickens on his own was particularly heartbreaking.

“Alright! If you’ve finished eating, let’s start exercising immediately! You need to absorb it quickly to build muscle! Let’s make it a productive day—no muscle loss allowed!”

At Gordon’s almost inhuman proclamation, the elves closed their eyes in despair.

‘I’m going to throw up, you bastard…’

‘Can we please exercise like normal people?’

‘Ah, another hellish day begins.’

As the elves had predicted, Ascon, the “master of anger management,” shot to his feet and erupted in a fit of rage.

“Hey, you idiot! Don’t you know digestion slows with age? Do you think everyone’s stomach is as reckless as yours?”

True to his reputation, Ascon was exceptionally discerning about who deserved his wrath and who didn’t.

‘The mad lord, the pretty priest, the nagging head butler, the maid wizard, the best elder, and the nagging elder. As long as I avoid them, I’m fine.’

Other than them, Ascon hurled curses at everyone else without restraint. Especially toward Kaor, whose reactions were particularly satisfying every time he was insulted.

Since Kaor couldn’t retaliate by killing him, he often threw fits of rage instead, making him an entertaining spectacle.

To be honest, Ascon had provoked others as well, but each time he ended up being summoned by the lord, where he faced a living hell. The last time, even his great-grandfather and the World Tree had joined in to greet him.

Especially that so-called pretty priest, Piote, or whatever. Wait, was it a man or a woman? Anyway, I can’t mess with that one. They seem to be under special protection, even though they were so much fun to insult.’

When Piote had cried after being insulted several times, Ascon nearly found himself buried alive—permanently.

But the person standing in front of him now, Gordon? He was fair game. If Ascon could insult Kaor freely, Gordon was nothing more than breakfast.

Indeed, Gordon, after being verbally assaulted, bit his lip and trembled with barely restrained rage.

He couldn’t kill him. He couldn’t seriously injure him. At most, he could land a few blows and nothing more.

Yet Ascon had an almost suspicious level of resilience. No matter how many times he was hit, he would get back up and continue spouting insults. The more Gordon listened, the more enraged he became.

“Stop insulting me!”

In the end, Gordon swung his fist once more.

“Urgh!”

Ascon went sprawling but didn’t stop his tirade.

“Your mother’s soup is the worst I’ve ever had! I threw it up, you idiot!”

“Don’t you dare insult my mother, you crazy elf bastard!”

Gordon’s fist shot at him again, but Ascon’s insults didn’t falter.

The elves watching nearby shook their heads. The longer this pointless fight dragged on, the less sleep they’d get, which meant more training and exhaustion later.

Lately, the elves had gained notable stamina from eating more meat, but this also meant Ascon’s antics lasted longer, making things just as grueling as before.

Thanks to the abundance of meat, not only the elves but also those living near the lord’s castle had become much healthier.

However, the large incubators weren’t yet spread across the entire territory. The cost of installing them was still too high.

They required a significant amount of materials, and their construction couldn’t proceed without the involvement of mages, which took a considerable amount of time.

And now, similar incubators had to be built in Ferdium as well.

As a result, distributing large incubators to every village had to be postponed. For now, the plan was to produce resources in major cities and distribute them to smaller villages from there.

The first step toward this plan was infrastructure—roads.

Under Ghislain’s orders, a massive workforce was deployed to build roads at a rapid pace.

With Ferdium providing soldiers and laborers, many of the main roads connecting major villages and castles were already in decent shape.

The issue was that these roads weren’t being fully utilized yet.

Gathering his retainers, Ghislain made his intentions clear.

“Now that the roads are built, it’s time to start a transportation revolution. Faster transport means faster development for the territory.”

At this, Claude asked, “Are you going to procure a large number of horses as you mentioned before?”

“Exactly. Right now, the horses in the territory are mostly for military use, right? Because we lack horses, transportation is slow.”

Transporting food, meat, and construction materials was inefficient without proper means of carriage.

However, compared to the size of the territory, the number of horses was woefully inadequate, leading to delays in resource distribution.

In fact, the most time-consuming aspect of construction projects in Fenris was waiting for materials to arrive.

Realizing this, Ghislain decided it was time to secure more horses—not just for transportation, but for another critical purpose.

“To train a large-scale cavalry force, we need far more horses.”

To enhance military strength, the number of cavalry units had to increase. Currently, the bulk of the territory’s forces consisted of infantry.

Seizing the opportunity, Claude revisited a previous conversation.

“So, how are you planning to procure them? You said you’d explain later.”

“You’re not against the idea, right?”

“Of course not! Everything you’ve done so far has been a success, so why would I oppose this?”

By now, Claude’s nerves had toughened. Having witnessed countless absurd ideas succeed, he had adopted a “let’s see what happens” mindset.

The other retainers felt the same. They nodded with soulless expressions.

“Horses are absolutely necessary.”

“Our lord will surely find a way.”

“Let the lord do as he wishes.”

Ghislain smiled in satisfaction. True sincerity eventually resonated with others, and now he could skip the tiresome explanations.

Seizing the moment, he spoke boldly.

“You all know my father spent years struggling in the Northern Fortress, right?”

“Yes, of course. He worked tirelessly to fend off barbarian raids, despite lacking funds and manpower.”

“Right. Our ancestors endured great hardships because of them, which kept our territory perpetually poor. It was bad enough already, but they made it worse.”

Claude’s eyes darted nervously.

Something felt off. Why was Ghislain making a speech instead of getting to the point about horses?

The lord often said things that sounded nonsensical, but they always turned out to be crucial later.

If he was going to procure horses, was this leading to something risky?

As Claude hesitated, Ghislain casually dropped his next command.

“Prepare for an expedition.”

“An expedition? Why? What does that have to do with getting horses?”

Ghislain’s expression turned resolute as he explained.

“I need to discipline those barbarians.”

‘Why does it have to be you?!’

Claude felt his head spin.