The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations (light Novel)

The Count of Cabaldi could hardly mask his confusion as he looked into Ghislain’s eyes.

This wasn’t the gaze of a mere victor. It was filled with a deep, incomprehensible rage and hatred.
And that left the Count even more perplexed.
He had never crossed paths with this young upstart before, let alone developed a grudge. There had only ever been potential for future enmity.

Glaring, he demanded, “You… didn’t attack me simply out of greed, did you? What are you after, really?”
“Oh, I have plenty of reasons. One of them is to see you dead right here.”
“Ha! And if you kill me, do you think you and your father will come out unscathed? I assure you, your family and lands will be reduced to ash!”

“Confident, aren’t we?”
“Yes, so retreat while you still can. You know who stands behind me. The King’s faction won’t protect you.”
Count Cabaldi sneered as he continued.

“I admit, you’re cunning and skilled, but it seems your youth blinds you to the reality of politics. The Ducal House won’t let this slide. If you kill me, you’ll trigger a conflict beyond control.”
Ghislain listened in silence as the Count desperately tried to sway him.
Cabaldi was sure the young man would take his offer.

While he’d lost the battle, the Count was still part of the Duke’s faction and a noble of high repute in the North. Taking over his lands would be dangerous for Baron Fenris, as the Duke and other nobles would retaliate.
Even a fool could see that much.
“You gain more from sparing me than killing me. I’ll even negotiate surrender terms—twenty years’ worth of iron production, half of it, yours!”

If Ghislain had been an ordinary noble and this conflict a simple feud, he might have accepted.
He could avoid the political backlash while gaining significant profits and the reputation of toppling one of the North’s mightiest.
But Ghislain had never come here with such intentions.

“What’s wrong?” The Count sneered. “Or perhaps you think you can spare it, knowing a civil war will break out soon?”
“W-what?”
Count Cabaldi was visibly shaken. The Duke’s preparations for rebellion were a well-guarded secret.
Though tensions with the King’s faction were mounting, openly acknowledging it was unthinkable.

“What… what are you talking about?” he stammered. “This is merely political rivalry…”
“Don’t play dumb, Count Cabaldi. You didn’t think I’d find out?”
“What are you—”

“I’m talking about Count Desmond’s moves to annex Northern territories for the Duke.”
“W-what…?”
Cabaldi’s face turned pale. How did this young upstart know the inner workings of their long-planned schemes?

Ghislain continued, his gaze icy and unwavering.
“Still think I’m just guessing? How about the Red Mage Tower, the Duke’s hidden dagger, waiting for the right moment to stab the King’s faction in the back?”
“You… you…”

“The plan to stage a coup in Rayfold? Supplying Amelia with iron and arming her troops… I know it all.”
“H-how…?”
Cabaldi’s whole body shuddered.

Ghislain’s knowledge of their schemes wasn’t just guesswork. He seemed to know every move Count Desmond had orchestrated over the years.
“Talk of surrender? Twenty years?” Ghislain scoffed. “Did you think I wouldn’t know about your plans to wipe out Perdium, crush us, and turn us into your slaves by cutting off our iron supply?”
Count Cabaldi finally understood the source of Ghislain’s hatred.

Anyone would despise those who tried to wipe out their people.
'But how did he know? A traitor in our midst? No… this man is dangerous. He must be killed. No matter what.'
Baron Fenris knew the Duke’s plans better than the King’s faction did. Their secrets were laid bare.

This had to reach the Duke. If left unchecked, they could become pawns in the young man’s game.
‘Wait… maybe I can…’
In the throes of panic, Cabaldi’s mind cleared.

So he knows. But what does it matter?
Their faction was the strongest in the kingdom, capable of crushing such nuisances with brute force.
Feigning a submissive smile, he spoke again, “Impressive. Really. I don’t know how you know all this, but you’ve won my respect. So I’ll give you one final chance.”

“Chance?”
“Consider this a show of power, a demonstration. If you’re as smart as you seem, you’ll recognize the Duke’s power… or even just Count Desmond’s strength, yes?”
Ghislain’s smile was calm, unperturbed. Who in the North didn’t know of Count Desmond’s might?

Seeing his reaction, Cabaldi’s confidence swelled.
“I’ll speak of your talents directly to the Duke himself. Join the Duke’s protection. You and your father will be safe, wealthy beyond measure. Join us.”
Count Cabaldi was certain he wouldn’t refuse.

Knowing their plans meant knowing their strength. If he wanted to live, he’d have to side with them.
Ghislain let go of the Count’s hair, straightening up, forcing the Count to look up at him.
As humiliating as it felt, he had to coax this young man to their side.

Ghislain nodded slightly, as if agreeing. “Oh, I know well. Count Desmond is powerful, and there’s no need to involve the Duke.”
“Haha, I knew you were clever. Let’s put today’s unpleasantness behind us. We’ll rule the North together. Now, loosen these binds and help me up.”
Cabaldi grinned. Clever as he seemed, Ghislain was still young and manipulable.

The young baron would be used and discarded in due time, and the Count would seize the opportunity to pay back this humiliation.
Ghislain’s voice cut through his thoughts, cold and unyielding.
“But I don’t plan on joining you.”

“What?”
“Why go through all the trouble when I can just kill you?”
“What are you—”

Swish!
Before he could finish, Ghislain’s sword flashed, severing the Count’s head.
Even as he died, his face remained locked in shock.

Before his consciousness faded completely, he heard Ghislain’s final words:
“Go on ahead and wait. Count Desmond will be joining you soon.”
Crash!

Count Harold Desmond slammed his fist onto the arm of his chair, shattering it.
His face was cold, his rage barely contained.
The oppressive silence in the room left everyone around him in fear of speaking.

After a moment, he turned to his lieutenant.
“Say that again.”
“The Baron of Fenris… has launched a surprise attack on Count Cabaldi and surrounded him. Currently, he has deployed three thousand troops…”

The lieutenant detailed the situation once more.
Listening, Harold closed his eyes, his face devoid of its usual contempt.
He no longer saw Ghislain as a joke but rather as a threat he had failed to properly acknowledge.

‘Was my judgment flawed?’
There had been more pressing matters, so he had ignored him. Even if he was bothersome, he could be crushed anytime.
Looking back, he had brushed off Ghislain’s victories as mere luck.

Perhaps his initial dismissiveness was a form of denial—a refusal to admit his own failure.
For none of Ghislain’s achievements had been minor.
The reclamation of the Forest of Beasts, his victory in the battle for Perdium, the development of cosmetics, support from the King’s faction, and his seemingly prescient stockpiling of grain—all of these were no flukes.

While Harold’s focus had been elsewhere, Ghislain had amassed wealth and power with alarming speed.
‘My mistake. There’s no one else to blame.’
Upon hearing Raul’s warnings, he should have acted decisively. Risk or not, the threat should have been eliminated.

Even if some of Ghislain’s success was due to luck, the timing and execution of his moves proved that he was more than just fortunate.
‘This boy is no fool.’
Now he had to face reality. Luck favors the prepared.

In a calculated move, Ghislain had struck Cabaldi with surgical precision, leveraging timing and tactics.
‘A wolf that preys on the vulnerable.’
The soldiers Cabaldi commanded were formidable, but starving and unable to engage in prolonged combat.

He’d be hunkered down in the fortress, waiting for reinforcements.
‘Count Cabaldi can’t withstand a siege.’
His territory was already low on food, and there was no way they could sustain a prolonged defense.

Normally, they would have already shipped emergency supplies, but their reserves had been sold to Ghislain.
‘And that was his doing, too.’
That one young baron had managed to twist all of their plans into chaos.

The whole web had unraveled from a single thread.
It had been a mistake to downplay his threat.
‘The King’s faction is backing him, too. This must be crushed now, before it spirals further.’

The chaotic state of the North would need to be swiftly reorganized. Harold adjusted his priorities.
With or without orders from the Duke.
Reporting it wasn’t necessary. A council discussion would only waste precious time.

He looked at his lieutenant again and spoke.
“Didn’t Amelia… say she would handle the rebellion preparations herself if authorized?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”

“Then tell her to proceed. Give her full authority and tell her to request support if needed.”
“But, sir, the Duke’s orders were to prioritize Amelia’s situation above all else. Granting her full authority to proceed with the rebellion preparations could…”
Harold cut him off with a cold, emotionless voice.

“From now on, our top priority is the annihilation of Fenris and Perdium.”
With this, Harold had committed to altering the entire strategy. He had realized that leaving Ghislain unchecked had been a grave error, one he intended to rectify with immediate, decisive force.