The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations

Chapter 345 Full

Claude sneered at the artists, who were looking grim.

‘Well, if I push through, it’ll work out somehow. Our lord manages everything, so what’s impossible for me?’

One thing Claude had learned from following Ghislain was that no matter what, he should push forward. If anyone had started to resemble the lord the most in the territory, it would be Claude.

But he wasn’t a regressor. So, he had become someone who simply forces things.

People had started to notice this recently. He acted like the lord, but there was something very different about his approach.

‘Heh, that guy’s starting to go crazy.’

‘Why does he keep copying the lord’s style?’

‘Ah, I shouldn’t have gotten involved in this.’

The artists were annoyed but didn’t protest or argue, staying quiet. There was no way around it.

Recently, Fenris had been investing heavily in culture and the arts. As the chancellor handling investments in the arts, it was inevitable that he had to show his face around the artists.

Fenris had prioritized war efficiency and hadn’t paid any attention to the arts until now. In a positive light, the territory was somewhat rustic and simple, but in a negative sense, it had no aesthetic sensibilities whatsoever.

But people can’t live on bread alone. The people of the territory’s desire for cultural life had been growing every day.

Luckily, after taking over the Desmond territory, they had managed to recruit many artists. Count Desmond, being a high noble, had a great appreciation for the arts.

This was the foundation for Claude starting his "business," something even Ghislain hadn’t foreseen.

Wendy, overhearing the conversation between Claude and the artists, bit her nails faster.

‘This can’t go on. I have to stop this now.’

More and more of the territory’s manpower was being used for Claude’s personal business. It wasn’t a problem yet, but it would eventually become one.

Helplessly, she pulled out a dagger. There was no way she could win this fight with words. If she spoke up, she’d only get caught up in it. It seemed better to just overpower him and stop him with force.

Just as Wendy was about to stab Claude, the door to the workshop suddenly burst open.

The workers inside turned pale upon seeing who entered. Claude’s face, too, drained of color as he looked back.

“Who’s this, suddenly coming in at night... L-Lord?”

Ghislain entered with a fierce expression, rolling up his sleeves.

Claude was startled but, true to his shameless nature, quickly composed himself.

“When did you return? And what brings you here all of a sudden?”

Ghislain paused for a moment. Even though Ghislain remained calm, his nonchalant demeanor was too much.

But Claude wasn’t someone you could trust based on appearances. Ghislain stopped walking and looked around before asking,

“Hm, are you all working late?”

“Yes, that’s right. We have a lot of documents to send to the cities, and there’s quite a bit of paperwork that’s piled up. I was holding a meeting with the artists to discuss the improvement of the territory’s aesthetics.”

This was the office where the scribes worked. Claude always linked the work with the territory’s official business to avoid suspicion.

Ghislain smiled faintly and introduced the person who had followed him in—Dominic, who was awkwardly smiling.

“Do you know this person?”

“No, I don’t know him.”

Of course, he didn’t know. Claude had never met Dominic in person.

At that moment, Ghislain called for someone else.

“Hey, come in here.”

A man lowered his head and entered with quick steps. Ghislain patted his shoulder and asked,

“What about this guy? He’s from the Drake Mercenary Corps.”

The person, also awkwardly smiling, was one of Dominic’s subordinates. He had participated in the auction directly in Fenris territory.

The mercenary lowered his head slightly and said,

“Chancellor, it’s been a while.”

Claude immediately recognized his face and broke into a cold sweat, turning his head.

“I-I don’t know. Who are you to pretend to know me?”

Claude, not wanting to die, decided to play dumb.

He knew exactly who the mercenary was. He had been one of the big spenders at the auction, and they had met and even talked several times.

The mercenary scratched his head and, apologetically, said,

“I’m sorry, Chancellor. It’s all been exposed.”

“I told you I don’t know you. What do you mean, ‘exposed’?”

“What’s with all these buildings? They’re so well-organized, like someone planned every detail. Look, they all look similar!”

“On the way here, I saw tons of construction projects going on everywhere. This place really feels like a wealthy territory now.”

The mercenaries were clearly impressed with their new home. It was rare to find a territory so bustling with activity and energy.

Thanks to Claude’s earlier "efforts," most of the mercenaries from the North had already come under Ghislain’s banner. However, the royal court remained silent.

“Why haven’t we heard anything from them yet? Do they not want to offer their endorsement?” Ghislain asked.

Claude, wearing his usual uninterested expression, replied, “It seems Marquis Branford is hesitant. The royal court is probably worried about what sort of chaos you’ll stir up if they endorse your mercenary group.”

“But we’re not even allowed to participate in wars within the kingdom.”

“Exactly. They’re afraid you’ll take that endorsement and cause trouble abroad.”

The kingdom was already split into two factions. Even with the mercenary guise, it was nearly impossible to openly intervene in the internal conflicts of other territories. Everyone would see through it.

But wars in other nations were a different matter. With royal endorsement, Fenris’s mercenaries could boldly participate and earn profit while maintaining a semblance of legitimacy.

Ghislain could theoretically operate his mercenaries independently, but doing so risked escalating into international disputes. Other kingdoms might view it as underhanded meddling, accusing the kingdom of shirking responsibility while stirring trouble.

“Hmm. It’s not urgent, so let’s leave it for now.”

Endorsement wasn’t critical—this was more about preparing for potential crises. Ghislain would move his forces regardless when the time called for it.

Turning to Dominic, who had recently joined Fenris, Ghislain issued new orders.

“Send some forces to operate in the North and the Loyalist territories. Assemble a trusted group and head east. Absorb the mercenary groups there. Can you handle it?”

“Leave it to me. I’ll make sure they all fall in line under Fenris.”

Dominic spoke with confidence. Having already built the largest mercenary group in the West, he was sure he could bring the eastern mercenaries under control as well.

There was a simple reason why the South wasn’t included in Ghislain’s plan. The Duke’s faction already had absolute control over the region, leaving no room for independent mercenary groups. The Duke’s armed forces and subordinate guilds handled everything themselves.

Ghislain then turned to Claude. “Sort out accommodations for those who arrived with us. Some may be innocent, but there are actual criminals among them. Investigate thoroughly.”

The majority of the prisoners who escaped during the earlier raid had followed Ghislain to Fenris. They knew their chances of survival were slim if they stayed in the city they’d fled.

“And draft a plan to improve the benefits and working conditions for the mercenaries.”

“Pardon? Better benefits? We’re already giving them plenty of work and paying them well,” Claude replied, tilting his head in confusion.

The mercenaries working under Fenris were indeed busy. From maintaining security and escorting trade caravans to building roads and managing construction projects, there was no shortage of tasks. They were paid handsomely for their efforts.

But Ghislain shook his head. “These mercenaries are now part of us. Treating them as outsiders won’t do us any good. We need to make them feel like they belong under the Fenris banner.”

While the mercenaries had joined Fenris in name, they probably didn’t yet feel like they were part of a single unit. Ghislain wanted to foster a sense of loyalty and camaraderie. Otherwise, when facing a powerful enemy, they might be the first to flee.

Contracts could only bind people so much. Building loyalty required effort from his side as well.

Claude nodded, finally understanding. “Ah, I get it. Our lord loves the whole ‘Let’s charge together!’ kind of thing.”

If someone failed to charge when ordered, Ghislain would be furious.

Meanwhile, numerous mercenary groups remained in the West, even after the Drake Mercenaries had moved north. While the Drakes were the largest, they were far from the only ones.

With the Drakes now settling into Fenris, word would undoubtedly spread through the West. This was the perfect opportunity to recruit and consolidate more mercenaries under Fenris.

As Ghislain and his advisors discussed the logistics of expanding and integrating the mercenary groups, a more pressing matter arose.

“What about the Duke’s faction? Any movement?” Ghislain asked.

“They’ve been unusually quiet. For now, they’ve only stationed troops in the territories bordering the Loyalist faction,” Claude replied.

“And the Loyalists?”

“They’re also mobilizing their forces. Apparently, Marquis Branford was furious after being threatened by the Duke’s faction.”

Ghislain calmly reflected on his memories of the previous timeline.

In his past life, the Duke’s faction had isolated the remaining Loyalist nobles and drawn their swords without hesitation. This time, however, the situation had changed.

Unlike before, most of the Loyalist faction was still intact. The Duke’s faction would need to prepare thoroughly to minimize losses.

In the North, they would undoubtedly back Amelia in an attempt to suppress Ghislain. Meanwhile, they would move swiftly to dominate the remaining regions.

“There’s still some time left. I’ll make the most of it.”

Amelia wouldn’t easily yield to others’ commands. The Duke’s faction would undoubtedly struggle to control her, adding to their headaches.

“So, the next target is...”

Ghislain’s lips curled into a cold smile. There was still one more ace up the Duke’s sleeve, one that most people were unaware of.

Before civil war broke out, Ghislain planned to dismantle that ace and weaken their forces.

It was the Crimson Tower, home to a 7th-circle mage said to rival a Swordmaster.

“The Crimson Tower must fall.”

A chilling grin spread across Ghislain’s face.