The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 65: I Have No Choice But to Change the Game Myself. (1)

Count Digald had suddenly declared war on the Ferdium family.

As soon as the envoy delivered the declaration, Ferdium’s vassals gathered in one place.

Zwalter reread the declaration several times, his gaze grim.

The declaration of war was filled with grandiose rhetoric about how just this war was and the justification for Digald’s actions.

Stripping away the flowery language, the core message was this:

[My son, Gilmore Digald, was killed by Ghislain Ferdium, so I will avenge him.]

The vassals could not hide their astonishment.

What kind of absurd justification was this?

“Have these people lost their minds? How could the Young Lord have killed Gilmore?”

“They’ve clearly made up their minds to go to war! They must have learned about the Runestone!”

“They’re starting a war on a false pretext! We must put them in their place!”

The vassals trembled with fury, criticizing Count Digald relentlessly.

No one believed that the Young Lord had killed Digald’s heir, no matter how much trouble he caused.

They already knew two vassals had defected to the other side, spreading these false justifications.

At first, they didn’t understand why those vassals had done it, but then they recalled the Runestone and everything made sense.

This war was driven purely by greed.

In the chaotic meeting room, Homerne stared at Ghislain with a troubled expression.

‘He did something good for the estate, but the result is war.’

Homerne had always thought that one day, other lords would pick a fight with them.

But he never expected things to escalate so quickly, without any regard for political alliances.

And least of all from someone like Count Digald, who hadn’t even been on their radar.

‘Tch, now we’re going to waste our forces for no good reason. As it is, every single soldier is precious.’

Homerne swallowed his frustration.

The other vassals were also angry at the absurdity of the war declaration, but none of them seemed particularly afraid.

Digald, after all, was just as poor and insignificant as Ferdium.

In fact, if you were to rank the poorest estates in the North, Ferdium and Digald would compete for first and second place.

However, Ferdium was a border county, receiving support from several other estates.

Though their estate was similar to Digald’s in terms of wealth, Ferdium had far more troops and soldiers with battle experience.

Randolph, the Ferdium Knight Commander, shouted boldly.

“Damn it! They want a fight? There’s no need to overthink this! Let’s just go out there and crush them!”

While war had no real benefits, once a declaration had been made, there was no avoiding it.

Revenge for a murdered blood relative was the most powerful justification of all.

Zwalter leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh.

“War… What in the world is going on? And on top of that, we’ve got traitors.”

The fact that they now had to go to war was troubling, but what pained him even more was that a long-serving vassal had betrayed Ferdium out of personal greed.

‘Tch, things are going to get even harder from now on.’

For an estate like Ferdium, which struggled daily, war was nothing short of a disaster.

Even if they won, the cost of the battle would be immense, and it would be difficult to replenish the manpower lost to casualties.

Especially for a place as resource-strapped as Ferdium.

‘I have no choice but to retrieve the Runestone.’

Zwalter didn’t want to touch something his son had discovered.

However, there was no other way to compensate for the losses except with Ghislain’s Runestone.

Zwalter made his declaration with authority.

“Switch to a wartime posture and prepare for deployment. We will annihilate the enemy at the borders of the estate.”

All the vassals bowed their heads at Zwalter’s sharp gaze, one that had been honed through harsh battles in the North.

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Although some forces had been left behind to guard the northern watch, the troops that remained in the estate were more than enough to deal with Digald.

Zwalter turned to Ghislain and continued.

“I’ve heard you’ve hired quite a few mercenaries. They should be of considerable help. You, too, should participate as the Young Lord.”

In wartime, the lord’s orders were absolute. Ghislain bowed his head, accepting the Count’s decision, but he didn’t forget to mention an important point.

“First, we should determine the size of the enemy’s forces.”

“I intend to. We need to see what confidence they have in starting this war.”

The estates were so close that they knew each other’s military strength well.

Zwalter was also curious as to what gave them the boldness to declare war when the disparity in forces was clear.

While Ferdium’s vassals were confident, three days later, they were left speechless by the report brought by a soldier.

“Approximately 6,000 armed soldiers! An additional supply unit with 1,000 troops has also been dispatched! We’ve also confirmed numerous carts carrying siege weapons!”

“…….”

It wasn’t the kind of force that could be assembled by a single estate, especially one as poor as Digald.

Randolph, with a look of disbelief, asked again.

“Are you sure you saw correctly? You didn’t just glance at them and exaggerate, did you? Is this report accurate?”

The soldier said nothing.

But even without a verbal confirmation, everyone knew the report was true.

Several scouts had reported the same thing.

They were just harassing the soldier out of their unwillingness to accept the reality.

While the exact number of knights was unknown, with such a large force, there would likely be at least fifty knights among them.

“How… how could Count Digald muster such a force?”

“Even if Digald conscripted every able-bodied man in their estate, they couldn’t gather this many soldiers. And all of them are fully armed!”

“Clearly, another estate is secretly supporting them!”

Ferdium’s military strength included 2,000 armed soldiers, some of whom were conscripts.

Even if they scoured the estate for more men, 1,000 additional troops would be their limit.

Moreover, they had fewer than thirty knights.

Yet the enemy had brought twice as many soldiers, and if they fought like this, defeat was inevitable.

As the vassals kept repeating how unbelievable the situation was, Zwalter angrily shouted.

“Enough! Enough! The enemy is already coming! What good is it to find reasons now? Discuss how we can respond!”

With such a large difference in military strength, intercepting the enemy at the border was impossible.

Without some kind of superhuman force to overwhelm the battlefield, they would never win through a traditional engagement.

If they weren’t careful, the entire army of the estate could be wiped out.

Randolph, as usual, was the first to speak up, his voice full of bravado.

“Brother, entrust all the forces to me! I’ll crush them all. They’re just a bunch of inexperienced rabble anyway. The two of us alone can easily wipe them out!”

Randolph’s extensive experience from his time in the North made him confident in warfare. He had defeated larger groups of barbarians with fewer soldiers before. His philosophy was that if they were going to fight, they should engage head-on.

At this, Homerne, horrified, quickly objected.

“No! The gap in forces is too wide. One loss would be the end of us! We need to hold out in the fortress and request reinforcements from the other lords!”

With the two presenting opposing views, the other vassals began to split into different factions as well.

“If we’re going to hold out, wouldn’t it be better to retreat to the Northern Fortress? This castle isn’t designed for a long defense.”

“Hmph, if we abandon the people and the castle, what’s the point of holding out?”

“We don’t have enough provisions for a siege! If reinforcements arrive, we can face them in battle! If Raypold helps, it won’t be difficult!”

The vassals argued back and forth, unable to reach a consensus.

Ghislain watched the scene unfold with a cold expression.

‘Just as I expected.’

He had known that Digald would start a war under a flimsy pretext, and he also knew they would bring forces capable of overwhelming this place.

In his previous life, Ferdium had charged into battle with confidence, only to be defeated by Digald’s army and forced to retreat.

Their forces had been larger than expected.

Ghislain had a good idea of who was backing them this time.

‘Bringing siege weapons means they intend to crush us thoroughly.’

In territorial wars, most battles were fought on open fields. Once victory or defeat was determined, the typical course of action was to negotiate an end to the conflict.

However, bringing siege weapons was a clear sign that Digald had no intention of negotiating.

Randolph, aware of this fact, couldn’t contain his frustration.

“Damn it, we can’t hold out here for long anyway! It’s better to go out and fight than to waste time holed up!”

The situation in Ferdium was already dire. They lacked the resources to withstand a long siege.

They didn’t have enough food or defensive weaponry to mount a prolonged defense.

“With our current food supplies, there’s no way we can hold out for an extended siege. We need to end this quickly!”

The enemy, with their superior numbers, would inevitably surround the estate.

If they waited too long, their forces would starve, morale would plummet, and any slim chance of victory would vanish.

Randolph argued that it was better to strike while they still had the strength to fight.

As Zwalter closed his eyes, deep in thought, he suddenly turned to Ghislain and asked,

“What do you think we should do?”

He didn’t expect his son, who lacked war experience, to provide a solution.

Still, given that Ghislain had successfully cleared the Forest of Beasts, it seemed worthwhile to at least hear his opinion.

“I believe we should request reinforcements and hold out in the castle,” Ghislain replied.

“Hm?”

Zwalter raised an eyebrow, surprised.

Given Ghislain’s nature and the fact that he had mercenaries under his command, he had expected him to suggest going out to fight.

He thought his son would want to seize the opportunity to earn glory, but Ghislain’s response was far more cautious than he had anticipated.
However, Ghislain advocated for a defensive strategy for a different reason than the vassals.

‘There will be no reinforcements. And even if they come, it’ll be no more than Count Rogues.’

In his previous life, none of the neighboring estates had come to Ferdium’s aid, except for Kane’s father, Count Rogues.

Even then, Count Rogues ultimately shared Ferdium’s downfall.

In other words, requesting reinforcements would be of no help.

Nevertheless, Ghislain suggested asking for reinforcements and holding the castle. He needed things to unfold according to his own plans.

‘That way, I can annihilate the enemy with minimal losses.’

After a long deliberation, Zwalter finally gave his orders to the vassals.

“Send word to the surrounding estates and request their assistance. We must inform them as quickly as possible. Also, transfer all the remaining forces and supplies from the Northern Fortress to the castle.”

“Brother! The enemy will reach us in about fifteen days!” Randolph shouted loudly.

The Digald estate was located southwest of Ferdium.

Even considering the slow march of infantry, the enemy could reach them in roughly two weeks.

Zwalter nodded and spoke in a soothing tone.

“I haven’t made a final decision yet. But if we receive help from the neighboring estates, we can reduce the damage, even if just by a little. I’ll decide once I see how the other estates respond.”

Randolph stepped back for the moment, though he didn’t hold much hope for reinforcements.

The surrounding estates would only help Ferdium to the extent that it didn’t collapse entirely.

This was because Ferdium served as a buffer, defending against the nuisance of external threats along the border.

However, it didn’t necessarily have to be Ferdium performing this role.

Even if Digald took over this place, the other estates wouldn’t care.

Whether it was Digald or Ferdium, it didn’t matter to them as long as someone managed the border.

During the days spent waiting for responses to their requests for aid, the mood within the estate grew increasingly bleak.

And when the long-awaited responses finally arrived, even the vassals who had clung to hope could no longer avoid despair.

“Count Raypold says he cannot help due to internal issues.”

“Zimbar has also expressed his refusal.”

“The soldier sent to Count Rogues has lost contact.”

“There’s a rebellion in the Willem estate….”

The reasons varied, but not a single estate offered support.

Even Count Rogues, Ghislain’s brother-in-law, whom they had most trusted, had lost contact entirely.

Zwalter closed his eyes, his face steeped in regret.

‘Is this really the end? For whom have I dedicated my life here?’

He realized he had been wrong all along.

He had believed that no one wanted this forsaken place, and that all he had to do was handle the external threats.

‘Who would have thought the Runestone would bring ruin to this estate?’

But despite everything, he didn’t resent his son.

Ghislain had truly done an outstanding job. It was just that the situation hadn’t been favorable.

‘It was all just a dream. Now, there is no future for us. Will the family really end with me?’

Zwalter sighed deeply, pressing his forehead. His face suddenly looked ten years older.

The Count raised his head again, looking around.

The vassals all wore expressions as if the world had come to an end. Homerne and Albert, their faces pale, remained silent, unable to speak.

Only Randolph was still breathing heavily, brimming with fighting spirit.

Zwalter let out a hollow laugh.

‘At least that brat still has energy left.’

Yes, if it came to it, he and Randolph could fight with all their might and take down as many enemies as possible.

The Count gave a self-deprecating chuckle and suddenly turned to look at his son.

‘You….’

Ghislain was different from the vassals.

He wasn’t panicking, frightened, or enraged. He simply stood there calmly, his face expressionless.

‘I can never figure out what you’re thinking.’

Zwalter looked at Ghislain for a moment with a look of pity.

‘I hope you don’t think this is your fault. You did well. Truly, you did.’

As a father, not as a lord, Zwalter hoped his son wouldn’t blame himself for this war.

In any case, with the discovery of the Runestone, this place would eventually become a battleground for the lords, sooner or later.

Digald was merely the beginning.

‘Should I defend, or should I strike back…?’

Zwalter’s thoughts deepened.

It was said that in order to successfully lay siege, an army needed three times the number of forces.

Fighting from behind the walls gave a clear advantage in defense.

But if supplies weren’t properly delivered, those defending could wither and die easily.

Knights who could wield mana could also easily scale walls.

‘If only we had received reinforcements, we might have been able to hold out… I focused too much on fortifying the Northern Fortress. Is it really going to end like this?’

If the enemies had deployed siege weapons, the weak walls of Ferdium wouldn’t last long.

Had the situation been different, he might have considered surrender, but with Digald’s vengeance as the cause, surrender would mean death for all.

Even the so-called “honorable surrender” nobles often spoke of was impossible in this case.

‘We must win, no matter what. I don’t care if I die, but the others must live.’

Zwalter looked around at everyone with a fierce gaze.

“Prepare for battle. We will meet the enemy outside.”

As Randolph had said, if they tried to hold out, they would only die after their strength was drained.

In that case, it was better to go out and fight while they still had some strength left.

The vassals looked grim, but they silently nodded in agreement with Zwalter’s decision.

Ghislain quietly turned and left the hall.

The mercenaries, who had been waiting, began gathering one by one to follow him.

The lord had made his decision, so the vassals had no choice but to follow it.

But Ghislain didn’t believe it was the right course of action.

‘We can’t just fight head-on. Even if we win, the damage will be too great on our side.’

Ghislain’s expression hardened coldly.

‘I’ll have to change the game myself.’