The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations

Chapter 440

Woroca led his 60,000 warriors into battle. It was a force large enough to sweep through the entire northern region.

In contrast, Amelia’s Rayfold army blocking their path was a mere 10,000 strong.

Yet, after a single skirmish, Woroca had lost an astounding 10,000 warriors, while the enemy suffered almost no casualties.

Woroca wanted to chase after them and attack immediately, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t tell if this was a trap or a genuine retreat.

“Damn her... That woman dares to humiliate me like this!”

It was a warrior’s disgrace. In the long history of the north, he must be the only man to suffer such a severe defeat at the hands of a woman.

The battlefield before him was filled with the corpses of his warriors. The bodies of the Rayfold soldiers were barely visible.

It was the inevitable result of being caught in a flawlessly executed strategy.

The warriors exchanged uneasy glances.

“Did we... just lose?”

“Wasn’t their commander a woman? And yet we lost this badly?”

“What exactly hit us?”

Shame was evident in their expressions as they cast doubtful looks at Woroca. They were beginning to question his competence.

After all, the tribes had only united out of necessity for food. There was no real loyalty to Woroca.

Sensing the growing dissatisfaction, Woroca roared in anger.

“What are you standing around for?! Clean up the battlefield and set up camp! This isn’t a significant loss! We still outnumber them by far! They had to retreat because they couldn’t keep fighting!”

In truth, the loss was immense. But Woroca had no choice but to downplay it and maintain control over his warriors.

There wasn’t much to clean up on the battlefield. They couldn’t clear all the bodies, so they gathered usable weapons and surviving horses.

Leaving the corpses of their own behind, the barbarian army advanced a bit further. They couldn’t camp surrounded by so many bodies.

They hastily pitched tents and tied up their horses before settling down to rest.

“Ugh, I’m exhausted.”

“Let’s take a proper rest now.”

“We need a good night’s sleep tonight.”

The warriors, simplistic in nature, quickly forgot about the heavy losses they had suffered. With so many tribes united, they saw half of their fallen comrades as strangers anyway.

Still, the major battle had left everyone physically and mentally fatigued. Even those who hadn’t fought directly were tense from the anticipation.

Though their camp was poorly guarded, no one seemed particularly worried. They all knew that no other army remained in the north. The only active force, the Rayfold army, had retreated.

“There’s no one left to attack us anyway, right?”

“Exactly. Let’s just sit and relax.”

“Even the ones we fought earlier ran away.”

Woroca didn’t bother tightening discipline either. There was no need to provoke his warriors when their morale was already low.

“Damn that woman... She’s ruined my reputation.”

All he could do was grit his teeth and curse Amelia under his breath.

This army had little experience with proper encampment and no concept of the importance of fortifications. They were used to moving in small groups and raiding, with no need for organized camps.

That night, the complacent warriors were abruptly awakened by the sound of approaching hooves.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

“Wake up!”

“Enemies! We’re under attack!”

“Where are they coming from?!”

The barbarian warriors scrambled to their feet, grabbing their weapons in panic.

Unprepared for an attack, they were in complete disarray.

Woroca burst out of his tent, shouting at the top of his lungs.

“Get it together! Form up! Prepare for battle!”

The warriors clumsily tried to assemble some sort of formation.

But nothing happened.

‘I definitely heard hoofbeats...’

Everyone fell silent, straining their ears.

Thud, thud, thud...

The sound grew distant, as if circling the camp. The purpose of the movement was unclear.

The warriors remained tense, scanning their surroundings in the dark, where visibility was limited.

They stayed on high alert until dawn, only to find that nothing had happened. Finally, they slumped to the ground in exhaustion.

“Damn it! What was that?”

“Did they just come and leave?”

“Was it because we woke up and scared them off?”

Despite their fatigue, the warriors grumbled noisily. Some even smugly claimed that their presence had frightened the enemy away.

But Woroca, who had spent the night sleepless and fuming, clenched his teeth.

“That damn woman...”

The intent was obvious. It was a psychological tactic to keep them on edge and deprive them of rest.

They couldn’t continue their advance in this state. The warriors had already fought a battle and now hadn’t properly rested.

“I won’t fall for this again.”

Woroca decisively halted their advance and allowed his warriors to rest during the day. There was still time, so he planned to march at night instead.

With visibility better during the day, they would be able to spot any approaching enemy forces in time.

That wasn’t all.

“They’ve given me an idea. We’ll launch a nighttime raid of our own.”

An eye for an eye. If the enemy wanted to disrupt their rest, he’d return the favor.

His army was far larger. By dividing his forces, they could take turns harassing the enemy, ensuring they too couldn’t rest.

“Send out scouts first. They’re probably nearby, lying in wait to stop us.”

At Woroca’s command, the barbarian scouts located the Rayfold army’s camp some distance away.

That evening, after a full day of rest, a thousand of Woroca’s warriors set out to raid the Rayfold camp.

Of course, their goal wasn’t to engage in a full-scale battle. They intended to exhaust the enemy using the same tactics they had suffered.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes! Since we first located them, they haven’t shown any signs of movement!”

Woroca nodded, satisfied. That was sufficient. He could now confidently send his detachment to occupy another territory.

Still, Ferdium and Fenris needed to be destroyed quickly to ensure complete dominance.

“Good. Rest for today, and tomorrow we’ll face the Rayfold army again.”

Woroca assumed the Rayfold forces were aware of the situation and were merely hesitating, unsure of what to do next.

He planned to launch another decisive battle after a full day of rest, ensuring his troops were in peak condition.

But in the early hours of the morning, Woroca received shocking news.

“Annihilated... you say?”

“Yes... ambushed...”

A blood-soaked warrior, one of the few survivors, returned with a dire report. Their detached unit had been ambushed and completely wiped out.

“Where? There are no other armies in the north!”

“It... it bore the crest of Rayfold.”

“Rayfold?”

“Yes, I’m sure of it.”

“But they didn’t move! How could they have appeared there?!”

The survivor looked bewildered. While it was undoubtedly the Rayfold forces that had attacked them, Woroca insisted it was impossible, leaving the warrior at a loss for words.

“Damn it... Did they anticipate this from the start and secretly position their troops? Have I been tricked again? Am I falling for that damn woman’s ploys yet again?!”

Woroca’s face turned red with rage as he roared in frustration.

Now that he thought about it, the scouts had only reported that the Rayfold army hadn’t moved. They hadn’t confirmed how many soldiers remained in their camp.

It was humiliating. He, the great warrior and ruler of the north, had been bested repeatedly by the same army.

And worse, not by the infamous "Blood Demon," whose name was known throughout the kingdom, but by a woman of no renown.

The other tribal chiefs could no longer hold their tongues.

“If this is how things are going, we’re leaving. We’ll take our warriors and seize another territory on our own.”

“We should just engage them head-on and crush them!”

“Why are we constantly taking losses? It’s been six days already!”

To them, Woroca’s caution was incomprehensible. It was the same hesitance that had led to their humiliating treaty with the Blood Demon.

Time was slipping away, and the chiefs grew impatient. By now, the battle with the Rift would likely have reached a conclusion.

Fighting the Rift was different from waging war against humans. Battles against the Rift were relentless, with no rest until one side was completely annihilated.

“We need to destroy the foundations of Ferdium and Fenris immediately.”

“Only then can we freely ravage the north.”

“Even if the Blood Demon is defeated, the northern army will still remain.”

If Giselle survived and retreated, the northern army would eventually march to confront them. The tribes needed to complete their objectives before that happened.

“I know! I’m aware of all that!”

Woroca snarled, bristling at their criticism. How dare these barbaric tribes try to lecture him.

But the situation was dire, and even he could feel the urgency. Finally, he made a decision.

“We march straight to Ferdium. Destroy the lord’s castle entirely.”

He anticipated that the Rayfold forces would once again block their path. He resolved to use his entire army to crush them this time.

“Move out!”

At daybreak, a furious Woroca and his warriors began their march.

Thud, thud, thud, thud!

They moved without pause, leaving their supply train behind to catch up later.

By the time they reached Ferdium, the Rayfold forces had once again relocated. The barbarians continued their advance toward their target.

It wasn’t long before they encountered the Rayfold army, camped in formation on the plains.

“A nice, open field,” Woroca muttered as he surveyed the terrain.

They had already passed through the northern entrance. Now, they stood on a wide, open plain—ideal terrain for cavalry.

Even Amelia wouldn’t be able to rely on her cunning tricks to stall them here.

“Are they trying to fight with their backs to the river?”

A river ran along one side of the plain, to the left of the barbarian forces and the right of the Rayfold army. To the left of the Rayfold forces was a distant shrubland.

Although the terrain was open, extending their lines too far would leave them vulnerable to cavalry flanking maneuvers.

Woroca sneered as he observed the stretched-out formation of the Rayfold army.

“So they plan to make a stand here, using this terrain to their advantage.”

Their numbers seemed roughly the same as before. Clearly, no reinforcements had arrived.

With such a small force, their options were limited. They had no choice but to rely on the terrain to hold their ground.

“That’s enough to break through. I won’t fall for their tricks again.”

The battlefield was much wider than before, allowing for greater deployment of his forces. No matter what the Rayfold army attempted, it wouldn’t be enough to stop them.

Grinding his teeth, Woroca glared at the Rayfold army.

“I’ll end this here today.”

He was determined to leave no one alive.

As the barbarians prepared for battle, a lone crow approached Amelia, who sat observing the scene from her chair.

Meow!

Startled by Bastet’s cry, Dark stepped back slightly and muttered.

“I’ve returned... ma’am.”

Amelia, her expression indifferent, asked, “Are the preparations complete?”

“They are... ma’am.”

“Good. You’ve done well.”

Closing her eyes, Amelia spoke softly.

“Today, it will all end.”

She had no intention of letting a single barbarian escape.