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The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

One of the seven strongest people on the continent, the King of Mercenaries. He started a war to avenge his fallen family and destroyed territory but failed and lost his life. However… “Wow, I’m alive?” I returned to the past, back through time. A perfect opportunity to right my regrets and reverse everything. It doesn’t matter if people around me point fingers, calling me a scoundrel, or dismiss me as tr*sh. Because… “I’ve got a plan.” “What plan?” “A plan to destroy everything.” There won’t be a second failure. This time, I’ll wipe out all my enemies. …But first, I need to rebuild this damn estate.

babayaga01 · Fantasía
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Chapter 183: How was it? You got it, right? (3)

The good mood in the room vanished instantly. The demand for soldiers outright soured everyone's spirits.

'This brat really knows how to cross the line.'

'Who in the world demands soldiers in exchange for food?'

'How many soldiers does he even want? Whatever the number, our lord will never agree.'

Without soldiers, a territory couldn't fend off external threats or control discontented subjects. Military strength was, in many ways, the foundation of a territory's stability.

But refusing outright was also difficult. They had just witnessed others being expelled for saying the wrong thing.

As the emissaries were stuck between a rock and a hard place, Ghislain spoke gently.

"Oh, I'm not asking for too many. The minimum is 50 soldiers. Small baronies can send just that much, while larger territories will send a bit more. Let's keep it manageable for everyone. In return, I'll provide six months' worth of food, proportional to the size of each territory."

Compared to his initial demand for soldiers, it was a surprisingly reasonable proposal. The mention of six months' worth of food made some emissaries nod their heads.

For small baronies, 50 soldiers wasn't a trivial number.

But it wasn't so many that it would be impossible to provide.

If they could exchange 50 soldiers for six months of food, it would be a profitable deal.

Once again, the game of calculations and glances began.

A small barony's emissary, having quickly done the math, raised his hand enthusiastically.

"We will provide 50 soldiers!"

"I like your quick decision. Since you spoke first, I'll give you eight months' worth of food."

"Thank you!"

The atmosphere was now completely under Ghislain's control. Those who missed the first opportunity hurried to speak.

"We will provide 100 soldiers!"

"Your territory is a county, right? Pretty big, isn't it? Only 100 soldiers? Make it 200."

"Well, that's…."

"If you don't like it, forget it. Leave."

"No, no! We'll do it!"

Once the momentum was established, there was no stopping it.

Each emissary began eagerly offering soldiers proportional to their territory's size.

In the midst of this fervent atmosphere, there was one person who couldn't speak.

Noticing the hesitant figure, Ghislain smiled knowingly and addressed him.

"Hey, long time no see. How are the Count and my aunt?"

"L-lord Baron, it's been a while."

The nervous emissary was the head butler of Count Loges.

This was the territory where Ghislain's cousin Kane, who had once dueled Ghislain, was the heir. The Loges head butler, sweating profusely, asked cautiously.

"How many soldiers should we provide?"

Count Loges was as poor as Perdium. Not because they were defending against barbarians or the Forest of Demonic Beasts like Perdium.

They were simply impoverished because they had nothing.

Their armed forces barely numbered 1,000, and even with recruits, they couldn't muster 2,000.

Yet, despite their dire circumstances, the Loges territory had supported Perdium in Ghislain's past life and perished alongside them. Ghislain hadn't forgotten that loyalty.

"Well, since we're family, I can't be too harsh. I'll give Loges a year's worth of food."

"O-oh! Thank you!"

The Loges head butler beamed with joy. It was no wonder people constantly emphasized connections.

Others, too, cast envious glances.

No one could question why Loges received food for free. Count Loges's wife is Count Perdium's sister, so the justification was sound.

"But it'd look odd if I gave it for nothing, so I'll take one soldier. Just one."

The head butler of Loges nodded enthusiastically. With a year's worth of food, what harm was one soldier? It was practically a gift.

As he grinned, Ghislain smiled wickedly.

"Kane. Send the heir of Loges here. That guy still owes me money."

"He owes you money?"

The head butler's face turned puzzled at this unfamiliar claim.

"Yeah, he borrowed 1,000 gold from me and hasn't paid it back. I knew lending money to family was a bad idea. I'm disappointed, really."

"Th-thousand gold?!"

A thousand gold! How could anyone borrow such a sum?

The Loges head butler looked at Ghislain skeptically.

He knew Ghislain had once been a notorious troublemaker. Stories of him and Kane terrorizing their territories were well-known.

It was hard to believe Ghislain's claim was true.

"Is… is that really the case?"

"Yep, looks like Kane didn't tell you."

"Lately, Young master Kane has been focusing on his studies within the territory."

"Studying? Do you realize how absurd that sounds?"

"…"

The head butler lowered his head, unable to respond.

The truth was, Kane wasn't studying. He had simply shut himself in his room and refused to come out.

No one knew why, as he refused to answer when asked. People simply assumed he had matured and left it at that.

After all, he was no longer bullying others or causing trouble, so it was easy to overlook.

The real reason Kane had confined himself was fear.

He couldn't ask his parents for such a large sum, nor did he have a way to obtain it. So, he had chosen to hide.

He was too embarrassed to admit the truth and worried rumors might spread, so he remained quiet.

That was Kane's shallow reasoning for not repaying his debt. He thought staying hidden in his territory would be enough.

But Ghislain had no intention of indulging that assumption.

"Well, that's something we can confirm later. In any case, that's my condition. If you want a year's worth of food, send Kane."

"B-but how could we send Young master Kane…?"

Sending the heir of their territory to Fenris was akin to offering him as a hostage.

It wasn't a decision a head butler could make on his own.

Seeing the man sweat profusely, Ghislain spoke in a calm tone.

"Go discuss it with the Count. I'm sure he's heard of my recent achievements and will agree. Kane can train and study here with me. It's a great opportunity for heirs to bond and prepare for the future. After all… we're family, aren't we?"

"That's true! If that's the case, I'm sure the Count will approve."

The Loges head butler finally nodded.

Perdium and Loges were bound by blood and loyalty.

Joining forces with Ghislain would undoubtedly benefit Kane, not harm him.

After all, Ghislain was now the rising star of Lutania's noble society, backed by Marquis Branford.

"I understand. I'll explain everything to the Count. This won't be a bad thing for Young master Kane, either."

"Good, good. It's a win-win for everyone."

Of course, Ghislain's true thoughts were entirely different.

'You're dead when you get here, punk.'

Stealing money from the Mercenary King?

Such a thing simply didn't happen under the heavens.

Even in his past life, no king had dared try something so bold.

Clearly, Kane's education had been insufficient during their duel. Ghislain intended to remedy that.

After hearing Ghislain and the Loges head butler's conversation, the other emissaries promised to provide as many soldiers as their authority allowed.

They didn't dare hesitate, fearing Ghislain might demand their heirs instead.

As the negotiations concluded, Ghislain made another announcement.

"You know it's not just the soldiers, right? Send their families, too."

The emissaries were stunned. They had assumed only the soldiers would be required, but now he wanted their families as well? That would mean losing more of their population than anticipated.

What had seemed like a reasonable deal suddenly felt anything but. In normal times, this would be a significant loss.

The emissaries' expressions turned sour at the unexpected blow to their workforce.

Ghislain clicked his tongue as he watched them.

'Tsk, tsk. Still the same.'

To them, their subjects were no different from slaves. No, perhaps even better than slaves—they could collect taxes from them and didn't have to feed them.

Separating families didn't stir any emotions in them.

It was simply the way of the world, so there was no point blaming them.

But Ghislain had no intention of compromising.

Separated families would only become weaknesses for the soldiers. That would prevent them from performing at their best.

Ghislain intended to eliminate that issue entirely.

Reluctantly, the emissaries agreed to send the soldiers' families as well. They had no choice—giving in was the only way to ensure their people's survival.

Of course, beneath the surface, their resentment boiled.

'Damn it, just wait. Once we're through this, we'll make him pay.'

'This brat is getting cocky, relying on the Royalist nobles.'

'We should've attacked this place the moment we heard the rumors and taken the food and rune stones.'

They regretted hesitating and wasting time verifying the situation.

Now, attacking wasn't an option. With high-ranking Royalist nobles backing Ghislain and the combined forces of nearly 3,000 soldiers pledged, it was too late.

With just one food deal, Ghislain had secured thousands of soldiers and their families.

To drive the point home, Ghislain gave one last command.

"It'll take time to relocate the families, so send the soldiers as quickly as possible. If they're not here within two weeks, consider the deal canceled."

"U-understood."

"And send properly trained standing soldiers. If you send unfit recruits, I'll send them back immediately."

"Understood."

The emissaries, who had considered filling the ranks with recruits, quickly abandoned the idea. If Ghislain canceled the deal, their entire territories would starve.

The emissaries hurriedly prepared to leave. Time was tight, and they couldn't afford to delay.

As the negotiations wrapped up, Ghislain turned to Claude with a satisfied expression.

"How about that? I got them quickly, didn't I? Easy, right? And we've got more territory residents now."

"…"

Having witnessed the entire process, Claude was at a loss for words.

It was an impressive feat. People were harder to acquire than money, yet Ghislain had solved the issue in an instant.

Moreover, unlike the immigrants they had taken in so far, these were trained soldiers. Despite varying levels of combat skill, they were a valuable addition.

Combined with Fenris's current forces, they now had over 3,000 soldiers. Just as Ghislain had promised, he had built up this force.

Claude couldn't help but acknowledge it. Whether it was luck or skill, this guy was truly remarkable.

For once, Claude didn't mock him. Instead, he gave a thumbs-up.

'Do whatever you want.'

Grinning arrogantly, Ghislain turned to Gillian and issued new orders.

"Make sure the new soldiers adapt to our command structure as quickly as possible. Focus on drilling them in formation and discipline. Mix them into units without regard for origin. They'll only send infantry anyway."

"Understood."

The shortfall in soldiers had been addressed. Though still incomplete, they now had hundreds of knights in addition to their infantry.

Both the Royalist and Duke factions were too preoccupied with their own issues to interfere with Fenris.

There would never be a better opportunity. Ghislain had prepared meticulously for this moment.

With a cold smile, he declared,

"It's time to start the war."

***

The soldiers sent from the territories arrived swiftly. The lords, pressured by urgency, wanted to finalize the deal as quickly as possible despite their displeasure.

The soldiers, hurriedly dispatched, were understandably disoriented. Suddenly finding themselves in a new place was unsettling.

But their unease didn't last long. Seeing the abundance of food in Fenris, their faces lit up.

'Wow, so the rumors about their food stock were true.'

'We're really going to live here? Is this a dream or reality?'

For soldiers who had struggled with food shortages and poor supplies, Fenris seemed like a paradise.

Having only known hunger and poverty under their oppressive lords, any lingering attachment to their homelands disappeared quickly.

The more they ate, the more they grew attached to Fenris. And with their families soon to join them, they had no reason to complain.

With the soldiers satisfied, managing them was much easier. Within just a week, the relocated troops had adjusted to Fenris's strict military discipline.

Since they were already trained, the process wasn't too challenging. They just needed to adapt to Fenris's rules.

Good food and comfortable lodging worked wonders.

However, the soldiers' spirits plummeted within days. Ghislain had announced an expedition, summoning all soldiers for deployment.

'War, right after we arrived? Who are we attacking?'

'This is crazy. But isn't our number pretty big?'

While the soldiers fretted, Ghislain inspected the assembled army with a satisfied expression.

The expeditionary force, including knights, totaled over 3,000. Though mostly infantry, no other northern territory—aside from major lords—could muster such numbers.

The soldiers, realizing their strength, seemed somewhat reassured.

As Ghislain surveyed the troops, Claude cautiously asked,

"Uh… this is great and all, but aren't you going to declare war first?"

"Of course not. Why give them time to prepare? This war is all about speed and timing. We have to finish before anyone else can intervene. We'll declare war when we get there."

"Ugh…"

It wasn't wrong, but attacking without a formal declaration would invite criticism.

More importantly, it would give their enemies an excuse to do the same. That was why formalities like declarations were adhered to—to buy time for politics, requests for aid, and preparations.

But Ghislain truly didn't care. He believed such courtesies would soon be obsolete in the coming age of savagery.

Claude stared at him, baffled, then shook his head and asked,

"By the way… are you really bringing him along?"

In a corner of the formation stood Kane, the heir of Loges territory, looking as if he had lost everything.

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