The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations

Chapter 308: Chapter 307: I’ll Bet on You (1)

Chapter 308: Chapter 307: I’ll Bet on You (1)



"A bet... that sounds interesting," said Claude with a leisurely smile after a pause.

Ghislain asked again, "So, are you in or not?"

"Of course... I can't let a match like this pass. The blood of a gambler flows through my veins."

"But do you have anything to bet? I'm not accepting the rest of your life anymore."

"I'm aware of that," Claude replied.

What others didn't know was that Claude essentially had no life left to bet. Over time, he'd lost every wager he made, even small ones, and as a result, his term of servitude had extended to an astounding 278 years.

He'd even lost ten years of his life once over a drinking contest. This was simply the

cumulative result of constantly wagering on opportunities.

Claude knew better than anyone that his remaining life had less value than the flour lying around the estate.

So, he decided to bet something else.

"What about the lives of the mages? Hahaha."

The mages' contract terms remained unchanged from before. While they enjoyed gambling now and then, they'd never actually had a direct bet with Ghislain.

Claude was suggesting betting the lives of the mages instead of his own.

Ghislain nodded readily.

"That's fine. Thanks to mana, their lifespans should be long. Their years will increase even more as their circle level rises."

"Haha, that's not all."

"There's more?"

"Of course. Don't forget the people leaving soon."

"Oh... Do you think you can bring them in?"

"I'll persuade them to participate in the bet."

"Alright, those folks are decent enough. So, what do you want? Expanding the stakes this much means you've got something big in mind."

Claude squirmed a bit and muttered, "Ah, can I even say this out loud?"

"What is it? What do you want?"

"First of all, freeing me goes without saying, right? Wipe out the entire 278 years at once."

"I can do that much. Is that all? Want to go back to your hometown as a free man?"

"No, I want an estate. I want to be a lord."

"Pfft!"

||

Clearing his throat, Ghislain asked, trying to stifle his laughter, "So, you want me to give you a piece of land?"

Claude frowned and snapped, "Not from you, my lord."

"Why not?"

"Who knows when you'll die? Why would I take land from you?"

A battle with the Duchy was a foregone conclusion. If Claude received land from Ghislain, he'd either have to join the war as a vassal or be killed anyway if the Duchy won, being branded as an ally of Ghislain.

Tilting his head, Ghislain asked again, "Then how do you want the land? Do you want me to take something from someone else and give it to you?"

"Just buy me a small piece of land in the Turian Kingdom. It doesn't have to be big. Hahaha." "The Turian Kingdom?"

"You're recognized as a noble of Lutania origin, certified by the Turian Kingdom. As my guardian, you could buy me a small plot of land, right? Ah, and make sure it's as far from the Shadow Mountain as possible. I want to live safely."

As long as agreements with existing lords were met and the country's laws were followed, buying and selling territories was indeed possible.

Claude had no intention of taking some money and simply returning to his hometown. He had already tasted the allure of power. No matter how much money one had, without power, it was meaningless.

He dreamed of becoming the lord of a small estate and living grandly until the day he died.

It wasn't a lofty ambition. Unlike Ghislain, he wasn't a war fanatic, nor did he plan to expand his lands. He just wanted to live comfortably, free of worries, and enjoy life.

Understanding his modest ambition, Ghislain nodded.

"Fine. If you win, I'll secure a small estate in Turian for you. Not that it'll happen."

"Hahaha, just make sure you don't go back on your word, my lord. Let's set the time frame to one month. You must maintain combat-ready stamina after eating only what's newly developed for a month."

"Of course. Now go and gather those willing to join the wager."

"Understood. Please wait a bit. I'll persuade them and bring them over quickly."

Claude moved off with an excited expression. Though he had nothing of his own to bet

anymore, he planned to wager the lives of others.

Thinking about walking away from all this with a big reward while risking nothing of his own

made his steps lighter.

Watching Claude's retreating back, Ghislain chuckled softly.

"Lifelong slave mages... how could I resist this?"

It was a very tempting proposal.

***

Alpoi was gambling in a corner of the estate's construction site. Surprisingly, his opponent was Piote, a man known as the kindest person in the estate.

In truth, Piote didn't enjoy gambling. The money he received from the estate was spent entirely on helping the struggling residents.

Though the estate provided plenty of food, so few starved, people needed more than just food

to live.

Some couldn't afford basic necessities, and others couldn't obtain herbs for their ailments. Piote used his own money to help such people.

However, his personal finances weren't nearly enough to help everyone in need. So, occasionally, he sought assistance from others in the estate.

Even Alpoi wasn't exempt from his requests.

"What? You want me to donate? You're trying to take money from the great Alpoi, the fiery

man?"

"No... I'm not taking it. I'm just asking for a little help for the struggling residents..."

"I'm the one struggling the most! I'm the one having the hardest time! I'm the heir to a magic tower, yet I'm living as an unpaid slave!"

Alpoi's outburst echoed loudly. Still, everyone knew he'd been quietly accumulating wealth.

He couldn't afford to lose the little money he had left. But Alpoi sneered in disdain.

"You're giving up that easily? What about helping the people in need? Weak resolve for someone like you. Is that what your goddess wants?"

That remark made Piote flare up. He was already teased daily for looking feminine, and now

he'd lost his money and was being mocked. He couldn't bear it.

And besides, it felt too late to back out now. With the little money he had left, he couldn't

help anyone. He desperately wanted to win.

"Let's do it again!"

'Haha, that's how you get hooked on gambling.'

Alpoi grinned wickedly.

'Got myself a sucker.'

He planned to fleece Piote completely. It wasn't much money, but every little bit counted-

and it came with the added bonus of relieving stress.

"Odd!"

"Even!"

"Odd!"

Piote kept losing, over and over. Alpoi didn't even bother pretending to let him win. He

cheated openly.

"Ugh... ugh..."

As he lost nearly all his remaining money, tears welled up in Piote's eyes.

He was frustrated. He felt furious because it was clearly a scam, and he hated himself for

being too naive to catch on.

He should've used even that small amount of money to help others.

Now he understood why people warned against gambling. He deeply regretted his choice.

'Goddess...'

All he had left was a single silver coin. Closing his eyes tightly, Piote began to pray.

'Please, let me win.'

It wasn't for himself. It wasn't even to punish that cheat. He just wanted to help those in need,

even if only a little.

Seeing Piote's pitiful figure, eyes shut tightly in prayer, Alpoi spoke impatiently.

"What are you doing? Hurry up and place your bet." 'Goddess... please... punish that bastard—oh, I mean, forgive my harsh words.'

Piote prayed with all his heart. He couldn't remember the last time he had prayed this

earnestly.

Regret over his actions, repentance for falling into gambling, and a pure desire to help others

all mingled in his heart, burning painfully.

Then-!

A radiant light burst forth from Piote's body, enveloping the area. Alpoi, sensing it, smirked.

"Pray all you want. It's useless. Want to know why?"

Alpoi began to emit mana, pushing back against the holy power.

Boom!

The collision of holy power and mana created a fierce shockwave. Alpoi raised his head

arrogantly and declared,

"I am the god of odds and evens. Even the goddess can't beat me."

Denying the goddess's existence and proclaiming himself a god in front of her priest-a

statement fit only for a dark mage-yet Piote didn't get angry. He simply continued his

heartfelt prayers.

Those prayers, so pure and filled with unwavering faith, connected with something beyond.

"What are you waiting for? Place your-huh?"

Rumble!

Dark clouds suddenly gathered in the clear sky, plunging the area into darkness. From the top

of Piote's head, a brilliant light shot upward as if piercing the heavens.

Flash!

The dark clouds parted, revealing a gap from which dazzling light poured forth.

That light seemed to connect directly to Piote. Alpoi and the mages around him gaped in astonishment.

They had read about such phenomena in ancient texts.

"Ch-channeling?"

It was a power only a saintess chosen by the goddess could manifest. Channeling allowed one to connect with the divine will, borrow a fragment of its power, and

receive divine guidance. And the one who attempted channeling could receive a "revelation."

Unlike the fabricated rumors spread by Ghislain and Forisco, this was the real deal—an actual revelation. Saintesses could only use channeling in the most extraordinary of circumstances, and witnessing it firsthand was unheard of.

But was this an extraordinary circumstance?

Wooooosh!

Piote's body, still in prayer, began to rise slowly into the air. Holy power surged endlessly

from him, and his pink hair gradually turned a stunning silver.

Watching this, Alpoi stammered, "Wh-why, why, wh-why is the goddess meddling in a game

of odds and evens?"

Indeed, this estate was anything but normal.