The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 185: From Now On, Advance at Full Speed (2)

Count Cabaldi momentarily doubted his ears.

He had just decided to initiate a food trade with that man. And yet, the very same man had launched an attack?

It was too hard to believe, so he had no choice but to ask again.

“Baron Fenris? Why would he?”

“…We do not know.”

“Why? How dare he? That worthless fool dragged an army into my territory?”

After his initial shock, Count Cabaldi was consumed by an unbearable fury.

He was one of the northern powers destined to ascend to the position of Great Lord.

With robust iron production and advanced refining technology, he operated a well-armed force.

Moreover, his backer was none other than the Duke of Delfine, the most powerful man in the kingdom.

And now, someone dared to march an army against him? A wretched Ferdium nobody tasked with guarding the frontier, not even a proper count but just that bastard’s brat?

“What on earth was the fortress on the border doing? How did the enemy march all the way here without sending word?”

Count Cabaldi, unable to suppress his anger, roared furiously.

He had grown complacent, believing no one would dare to attack Cabaldi. As a result, the troops stationed at the fortress were limited to a mere handful of sentries. If the enemy had deliberately planned a surprise attack, there was no way the fortress could hold out.

So, the fact that the fortress had been captured came as no real surprise, but his retainers, fully aware of this, dared not speak the truth aloud.

“I must see that insolent bastard’s face with my own eyes!”

Count Cabaldi rose to his feet and stormed outside.

His flustered retainers hurried after him, speaking in hurried tones.

“This could work in our favor. Since Baron Fenris struck first, we now have every justification.”

“There’s no need to worry about supplies either. We can simply march out with our troops and crush him outright.”

“The heavens are aiding us. Neither the Royal Faction nor the Duke’s House will fault us for this.”

Hearing their words, Count Cabaldi nodded in agreement.

“Whatever his reasons for coming, this is an excellent opportunity. We’ll crush him here and seize Fenris for good. What’s the maximum number of troops we can mobilize in the territory right now?”

“We have 42 knights and around 1,800 armed soldiers. If we issue a general conscription order, we could gather over 3,000 men, but that would take too much time. We’ll have to settle this with our professional forces.”

“That should suffice.”

“Indeed. Fenris is a small and impoverished barony. Even if they scraped together all their forces, they wouldn’t have more than 500 soldiers.”

A knight, who had been listening to the conversation between Count Cabaldi and his retainers, looked startled and tried to speak up, but his presence had long been forgotten by the others in the room.

Count Cabaldi nodded in satisfaction, continuing to stride forward.

The thought of crushing the enemy with overwhelming force and even annexing Fenris lightened his mood.

“It seems securing provisions will be easier than expected.”

Even if Baron Fenris had come for reasons other than war, Cabaldi had no intention of forgiving him.

Who would let go of such a golden opportunity?

But their confident strides came to an abrupt halt when they stepped outside the fortress and took in the scene.

Count Cabaldi froze, his expression one of disbelief, muttering under his breath.

“W-what… What is this… force?”

It was massive. At a glance, the opposing army numbered at least 3,000 troops.

And they were not soldiers borrowed from another region. The banners fluttering throughout the ranks unmistakably belonged to Fenris.

Though he had been convinced of their numerical superiority, Cabaldi found himself overwhelmed by the size of the opposing forces instead.

“What is this? How did that whelp amass such an army?”

“…”

Despite Cabaldi’s outcry, none of his retainers could offer a response.

The force was far too large for a mere barony to muster.

“Didn’t they mention taking in immigrants? Perhaps they conscripted a large number of them?”

“L-look at them! Most of them are infantry! They must be conscripts—poorly trained and equipped, I’m sure.”

“But they appear to have over 300 cavalrymen. Could that be a problem?”

With limited intelligence, Cabaldi and his retainers could only speculate based on what lay before them.

Cabaldi gnawed at his fingernails, his mind racing.

What is going on? The Duke’s House explicitly told me to remain cautious. If the Royal Faction were behind this, they would have warned me. Could some secret negotiation have taken place between them?

There had been no formal declaration of war, nor had there been any significant conflict with the Ferdium side. He couldn’t understand why he was being attacked.

‘This is not a force that whelp could command on his own. Could the Royal Faction have provided support?’

Information about Ghislain’s (Ghislain) trade agreements with other territories, exchanging food for troops, had yet to spread widely.

Ghislain’s rapid action and tight time constraints ensured the rumors hadn’t reached Cabaldi’s ears.

The difference between someone meticulously prepared and someone who wasn’t was on full display.

As Count Cabaldi continued to bite his nails, sweat forming on his brow, two figures emerged from the opposing camp, leisurely approaching on horseback.

It was Ghislain and Gillian.

They halted at a spot some distance from the fortress. After taking a moment to steady his breath, Ghislain called out loudly toward Count Cabaldi.

“Hey! Lapdog of Count Desmond!”

Mana infused Ghislain’s voice, carrying his words clearly to the people atop the walls.

Count Cabaldi’s eyes blazed with fury at Ghislain’s provocation.

“That, that bastard! How dare he!”

It wasn’t just the vulgar tone; the content of the words themselves was insufferable.

Count Cabaldi and Count Desmond were nobles of equal rank. Yet, Count Desmond often treated him as a subordinate.

No matter how it was disguised as a favor, it was impossible not to sense the filthy undertone behind it.

Even now, look at what was happening. After taking as much iron as he wanted, Count Desmond had abruptly stopped providing food supplies the moment things became difficult.

Ghislain’s words stoked the inferiority complex that had been festering within Count Cabaldi.

He didn’t even have the presence of mind to wonder how that scoundrel knew about the dynamics between himself and the supposedly neutral Count Desmond.

Such thoughts couldn’t even form, as his head seethed with rage.

“Open the gates immediately! I will personally lead the army out and cut that bastard’s head off!”

The retainers by his side were startled and quickly stepped in to stop him.

“You mustn’t! If we face them head-on, the damage will be severe! The enemy forces are far too numerous! Please, at least hear them out to find out why they are here. It could just be a misunderstanding.”

“Th-this…!”

Count Cabaldi bit his lip. His retainer wasn’t wrong. Even if it came to a fight, understanding their reasons would give him something to say to the Duke’s family.

Grinding his teeth in frustration, Count Cabaldi finally relented, muttering something under his breath, which the knight beside him shouted aloud.

“Baron Fenris! What is the meaning of bringing your army here? Marching so suddenly with your forces—have you lived in such poverty that you’ve lost all noble honor? If it is war you seek, go back, prepare a proper justification, and return after declaring it officially!”

In short, it meant he wasn’t ready to fight now and needed time to prepare for whatever might come next.

“If you dare attack our estate without cause, the Duke’s family will not stand idly by. If you wish to avoid destruction, withdraw immediately!”

He even invoked the Duke’s name for an added threat.

Listening to the knight’s words shouted from the wall, Ghislain smirked.

“A declaration of war… Hah, I can give you that much.”

When Ghislain extended his hand, Gillian handed him a bow and an arrow.

A letter was tied to the arrow.

Though they had attacked suddenly, it was necessary to at least have a semblance of justification to prevent the Royal Faction or the Duke’s family from openly intervening.

Now, it was just a matter of delivering it appropriately.

Squeak.

Ghislain drew the bowstring back with deliberate force.

Count Cabaldi’s knights had already sprung into action the moment Ghislain received the bow. They surrounded the Count tightly, raising their shields to create an impenetrable defense.

In an instant, Ghislain shifted his aim and fired the arrow at the knight who had been relaying the Count’s words from the wall.

Thwack!

“Guhhh!”

The knight, caught off guard by the sudden attack, collapsed to his knees, blood spurting from his chest where the arrow had struck.

The arrow embedded itself precisely halfway, no more, no less—a deliberate adjustment of force by Ghislain.

Few would recognize the skill it took to achieve that.

Seeing people rush toward the fallen knight, Ghislain tossed the bow behind him with a grin.

“This is how I declare war.”

—

In the capital, the nobles of the Royal Faction gathered daily, fretting over how to resolve the crisis.

With the exception of the Marquis of Branford and the Count of Aylesbur, most had failed to secure sufficient food supplies.

What little they had stored was rapidly depleting, leaving the nobles with nothing to do but voice their anxieties.

“What in the world are we supposed to do about this?”

“People are starving to death in droves!”

“The climate crisis is real!”

The room buzzed with frantic complaints, but no one offered a viable solution.

The drought’s impact had devastated the entire kingdom.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

“Enough! What’s done is done; we cannot change it now!”

The Marquis of Branford’s booming voice silenced the incessantly chattering nobles.

At that moment, every noble in the room became acutely aware of the Marquis of Branford’s presence.

Rumors had spread that the Marquis had amassed an extraordinary stockpile of food. An unspoken consensus formed—keeping him pleased might yield a share of his surplus.

Meanwhile, Count Aylesbur, who had heeded Ghislain’s warnings and stockpiled food early, displayed a relatively composed demeanor.

Internally, he heaved a sigh of relief.

‘Thank goodness for my wife. Without her, this would’ve been a disaster. From now on, I’m doing whatever she says.’

Mariel, ignoring her husband’s objections, had gone ahead and purchased an enormous quantity of food.

As a result, the Count of Aylesbur, once regarded as a lesser figure within the Royal Faction, had now risen to a level of authority second only to the Marquis of Branford.

The Marquis of Branford surveyed the now-silent room and slowly began to speak.

“It is indeed a tragic situation, but, upon reflection, it might work in our favor.”

The kingdom’s Supreme Commander, Marquis Maurice McQuarrie, furrowed his brow.

“Hmm, and how, exactly, is this working in our favor? People are starving, and the situation is dire. What benefit could possibly come from this?”

“The nobles who follow the Duke’s family are starving too.”

“…?”

“Think about it. Why have we been keeping the Duchy in check? Wasn’t it because we feared they might instigate a civil war? But in the current situation, not even the Duchy can afford to start a war. They need to handle this crisis as well.”

“Hmm…”

“If we hadn’t stockpiled food on our side, the Duchy might have moved despite the potential losses. Don’t you agree?”

The nobles couldn’t refute those words.

Just as the Marquis of Branford had said, if the royal faction had faced a food shortage, the Duchy would have seized the opportunity to spark a civil war without hesitation.

However, thanks to the massive stockpiles held by the Marquis of Branford, the royal family, and Count Aylesbur, the Duchy was now constrained in its actions.

Rather than striking now and risking substantial mutual damage, it was better for them to focus on stabilizing their faction as quickly as possible.

It was exactly as Ghislain had intended. Unlike in his previous life, the Duchy’s movements were now temporarily suppressed.

For the Royal Faction, who were in a defensive position, this situation was much preferable.

What they sought wasn’t a decisive resolution but an indefinite state of stalemate.

Understanding the situation, the nobles nodded in agreement, and the Marquis of Branford continued speaking.

“Of course, this situation won’t last forever. It depends on which side manages to stabilize the crisis first. The Duchy will surely act swiftly to resolve the situation and then press us again.”

A flicker of hope gleamed in the nobles’ eyes.

The implication was clear: the Marquis of Branford intended to help the Royal Faction nobles stabilize the crisis as quickly as possible.

As expected, the Marquis of Branford didn’t disappoint their expectations.

“Not only will we rely on the royal reserves, but Count Aylesbur and I will also provide a portion of the food we stockpiled. While it may not be plentiful, it should suffice to get us through.”

“Ohhh!”

“Thank you so much!”

“I never doubted that the Marquis and the Count would make such a decisive move!”

Expressions of relief spread across the faces of the gathered nobles.

Food was the most critical resource for maintaining an army.

Not a single noble considered distributing the food to the common people. They had no interest in the lives of the lower classes. Maintaining their own power was all that mattered.

Seeing the relieved expressions of the nobles, the Marquis of Branford remarked with a hint of disappointment.

“See? You should’ve prepared food in advance, just as Baron Fenris suggested.”

“Ugh…”

There was no response to that.

Honestly, who would have believed such a suggestion? It was the Marquis of Branford and Countess Mariel who seemed peculiar for having prepared so diligently.

The nobles, emboldened by the topic, pointed out a question they simply could not understand.

“But how on earth did Baron Fenris know about it?”

“I’ve heard rumors that he reads the stars through astrology.”

“Isn’t that absurd? He must have just blurted something out randomly, and by sheer luck, it happened to be correct.”

The most visibly displeased was, of course, Marquis Maurice McQuarrie.

A man fond of fortune-telling and superstition, he immediately convinced himself that Ghislain had used some kind of dark sorcery when he heard of the weather prediction.

“Ahem! That man must be a dark sorcerer or is harboring a witch! We must apprehend him at once and weigh him against a duck! If he’s learned black magic, he will surely weigh the same as a duck!”

“…”

The irony that his own statement made him seem more like a dark sorcerer completely escaped him.

The Marquis of Branford shook his head. There was no point in trying to reason with someone as ignorant as McQuarrie.

The only reason McQuarrie retained his position was his prestigious lineage and a supposed aptitude for military strategy.

Even so, the Marquis of Branford couldn’t entirely dismiss one aspect of McQuarrie’s ramblings: there was something suspicious about Ghislain. It was hard to believe that his prediction about the drought was based merely on observing the heat.

‘That’s something I’ll figure out in time. Either way, thanks to him and Rosalyn, we’ve managed to avert the worst-case scenario.’

The two of them had helped stave off disaster. As he surveyed the still pale faces of the nobles around him, the Marquis felt quietly satisfied.

‘Hmm… Perhaps it’s worth considering bringing him into my household. He and Rosalyn might make a good match.’

If Ghislain could have heard this thought, he would have been utterly horrified, but even Rosalyn, who knew the Marquis well, could not have guessed what was on his mind.

The Marquis forced his wandering thoughts back to the present and addressed the nobles with a stern warning.

“I say this out of caution, but for the time being, be careful not to provoke the Duchy-aligned nobles. Even if your pride is wounded, it would be better to avoid unnecessary conflicts.”

The nobles all understood his meaning and nodded.

“In a situation like this, starting a quarrel would be tantamount to mutual destruction.”

“I’ll make sure this message is passed on to others.”

“Who would be foolish enough to pick a fight under such circumstances? That would be madness, leading to all of us perishing together.”

“Exactly, we don’t have anyone that senseless among us. Hahaha!”

The atmosphere turned amicable, with laughter rippling through the group.

They all wished for this crisis to pass quietly. Some even nurtured the hope that, once this ordeal was over, they might finally stand on equal footing with the Duchy.

But the pleasant mood was shattered when one of the Marquis’ knights burst into the meeting hall, breathless.

The Marquis of Branford frowned, about to reprimand him, but the knight’s words cut through the air.

“Baron Fenris has started a war!”

The knight’s near-scream of a report wiped the smiles off every noble’s face.