The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 3: This Kind of Disrespect, It Feels Familiar (3)

Skovan’s expression turned dumbfounded at Ghislain’s sudden words.

It was already annoying enough that someone completely useless had tagged along, but now he was demanding the command authority?

‘Is he out of his mind?’

Skovan wanted to slap him immediately but held back with superhuman patience. After all, he couldn’t just go around hitting the heir to the territory.

“I don’t know why you’re suddenly saying this, but it’s impossible. I’m the commander of the subjugation squad.”

He added in his usual bit of disrespect. If Ghislain got upset, he could just soothe him and send him away like always.

“It’s impossible for you to lead the soldiers with your abilities, Grand Duke.”

Skovan braced himself, expecting Ghislain to shout, but his reaction was different from usual.

“Is that so? Still, I’ll take care of it this time.”

Skovan’s eyes widened at Ghislain’s nonchalant response.

‘What’s this? Something feels off today. Why isn’t he throwing a tantrum?’

The Grand Duke always radiated inferiority from the outside. His shoulders and back were slightly hunched, and he constantly glanced around nervously. When things didn’t go his way, his face would flush red, and he’d start yelling.

But none of that was visible today. His shoulders were straight, his back upright, and his chin raised slightly, exuding arrogance. Even his eyes were devoid of emotion.

His demeanor and aura were so commanding that even a Swordmaster would have to take a step back.

‘Did he eat something strange? What did we have for lunch today?’

It felt strange to see someone who usually just sat in a corner, getting angry, now acting this way. Still, Skovan wasn’t too concerned.

No matter how much he dressed up his exterior, the pathetic core wouldn’t change.

“No. Please go back and rest. I’ll finish the subjugation quickly and return to the castle.”
“I said I’ll handle it.”

“…I told you, it’s not possible.”

“I said, I’ll do it.”

“Grand Duke!”

“I’m doing it.”

“…”

Skovan suddenly felt suffocated, as though he had eaten a whole pile of sweet potatoes, leaving his chest tight and constricted.

In the past, he could just curse the useless brat in his head, calm him down, and that would be the end of it. Now, it felt like he was talking to a wall.

Sighing deeply, Skovan tried again, “I was entrusted with the command by the lord. No matter what, I can’t just hand over the authority the lord has given me, even to you, Grand Duke.”

“It’s fine. Right now, my orders take precedence since I’m the one on the field. Shouldn’t the on-site commander make decisions? Isn’t that how it works on the battlefield?”

‘That “on-site commander” is me, not you, you creatively insane bastard! What do you know about battlefields!’

The more Ghislain talked, the more ridiculous his words became. But his status was higher, and reasoning with him was impossible.

It seemed the fool genuinely thought they were playing some kind of child’s game of soldiers.

‘Fine, what did I expect from that idiot anyway? I’ll just let him play the commander role for show… and I’ll just kill the orcs myself.’

If things got truly dangerous, he would have restrained the Grand Duke by force if necessary.

In his mind, he wanted to gag that mouth spewing nonsense and throw him in prison right now.

But he was a knight, and Ghislain was the heir of the territory. Skovan forced himself to swallow his anger.

‘Ugh, this is filthy. I swear this time, I’m really quitting for good.’

Even if he went to another territory, he’d at least receive better treatment and be able to work with more reasonable people.

Firmly deciding to leave Ferdium after this mission, Skovan spoke to Ghislain.

“Do you really… have to do this?”

“Of course!”

“…Understood. I’ll hand over command to you, Grand Duke. But you’ll have to take full responsibility as well.”

“Oh, great. I knew you’d come around. Let’s get ready right away.”
“Ready? For what?”

“Battle preparations.”

“But we haven’t even found the orcs yet. What are we preparing for…?”

“I don’t feel like explaining. You wouldn’t believe me anyway. Just leave it to the on-site commander.”

Ignoring the bewildered Skovan, Ghislain immediately gathered all the soldiers.

Since there were only about thirty of them, it didn’t take long.

The soldiers looked at Ghislain with weary eyes.

They were fed up with the Grand Duke’s constant mishaps, always having to clean up after him, and now they couldn’t even stand to look at him.

Ghislain smiled as he took in their expressions.

‘Ah, how fickle the human heart is.’

In the past, these looks of disdain had fueled his rebellious behavior. The more they ignored him, the more trouble he caused.

As the stares grew colder, his inferiority complex only deepened.

Both he and the people watching him constantly simmered in their anger. It was a vicious cycle.

But after dying and coming back, his first thought was that these were people he needed to protect.

‘Their snarling is actually kind of cute.’

After staring at the soldiers for a while, Ghislain spoke softly.

“The orcs will be charging in soon. Form a defensive formation and stand by.”

The soldiers, resigned to the fact that the Grand Duke was doing something crazy again, got into position.

‘What the hell is this?’

‘Ugh, this is so exhausting.’

The soldiers, standing in place, silently cursed him in their minds.

Just as Skovan, watching them waste time, was about to say something to Ghislain—

Thud-thud-thud-thud!

In the distance, they heard the sound of something large approaching in droves.

The soldiers turned towards the noise, shouting in surprise.

“O-Orcs! They’re really coming!”

“What the hell, why are there so many of them!”

Dozens of orcs were charging straight towards them.

Skovan, the actualcommander of the subjugation squad, panicked as he drew his sword.

“Th-this! Everyone, don’t panic! Prepare for battle— Huh?”

When he turned to look at the soldiers, his eyes widened.

The soldiers had already raised their shields and lowered their spears, ready for battle.

Because they had preemptively formed a defensive line, they were able to prepare for combat in an instant.

If Ghislain hadn’t prepared them in advance, everyone would have been thrown into chaos by the sudden ambush.

“W-what is this…?”

Skovan’s eyes were wide as he stared at Ghislain.

Normally, Ghislain would have been boasting, full of himself, about his foresight, but instead, he was busy checking the soldiers’ condition.

Even though they had preemptively formed a defensive formation, the sheer number of orcs was overwhelming.

The soldiers, faces full of fear, were trembling.

Ghislain patted the shoulder of one of the nervous soldiers and said,

“Hey, why are you so scared? Afraid of those?”

“Huh? W-what?”

“Tsk, tsk. Scared like that? Do you know what the most important thing in a fight is?”

“W-what is it?”

The soldier, still in a daze, asked as Ghislain replied leisurely.

“Momentum. You need momentum. Just like those orcs over there.”

The soldier gulped and turned his head again.

The orcs were charging toward them, exuding a wild and savage momentum as if they could tear their enemies apart in an instant.

But watching the Grand Duke act so relaxed in this dire situation made everything feel unreal.

Seeing the confused soldier, Ghislain continued.

“Don’t be afraid. If you get scared, you won’t be able to fight properly, and you’ll die. Dying like that would be a real shame, don’t you think?”

Ghislain smiled softly. It reminded him of the days in his previous life when he trained new mercenaries.

But the soldier, listening to him, was thinking seriously.

‘Why is this idiot suddenly trying to act cool?’

Advice only has weight when it comes from someone credible.

Hearing these words from a Grand Duke who was rumored to be less capable than even a regular soldier only made it sound ridiculous.

Ghislain noticed the expression on the soldier’s face and suddenly frowned. It was obvious what he was thinking.

“Hey.”

“Y-yes?”

“You were cursing me in your head just now, weren’t you?”

“N-no… sir!”

A brief silence fell before Ghislain clicked his tongue and turned away.

‘Sigh. I’m used to this kind of disrespect, but it still doesn’t make it any easier.’

He, who was once one of the Seven Strongest on the Continent and the King of Mercenaries, was being treated like this. If his subordinates from his previous life knew, they’d never stop teasing him.

‘Well, I’ll fix my reputation slowly, over time.’

Ghislain chuckled and moved forward, spinning his sword casually as he approached the orcs.

Skovan shouted in alarm.

“Grand Duke! What are you doing? Get back!”

“It’s fine. Just watch from there.”

“W-what?”

“I’ll be right back.”

With that, Ghislain darted forward.

‘Damn it! Stupid fool! If you want to die, die alone!’

Skovan gritted his teeth and signaled the soldiers to retreat. Once the soldiers were out of harm’s way, he planned to pull Ghislain back.

But the scene that unfolded next made Skovan freeze like a statue.

“Graaaah!”

The leading orc swung its rusty axe toward Ghislain as he approached.

A fierce blow that looked as if it could split a human in half in an instant.

However, Ghislain simply stepped aside with a smile on his face.

Bam!

The missed axe smashed into the ground.

At the moment when the orc, with a furious expression, tried to raise its axe again—

Swoosh!

With a sound cutting through the air, Ghislain’s sword flashed like lightning and sliced across the orc’s throat.

“Grrr…”

Thud!

The orc collapsed with a guttural sound, falling to the ground.

The soldiers, seeing the orc writhing on the ground, stared in disbelief with their mouths agape.

Orcs were monsters known for their thick hides. Without the use of mana, it was difficult to inflict serious wounds on them.

Yet, despite this, Ghislain—who was clearly not capable of using mana—had severed the orc’s neck in a single stroke.

“W-what is this?”

Even Skovan stood frozen, his lips moving but no words coming out, his face blank with shock.

Even though he could use mana, he hadn’t sensed any trace of its flow.

That meant… Ghislain had incapacitated the orc with a single strike withoutusing mana.

“Impossible!”

Mana was a supernatural force that allowed humans to surpass their limits.

To kill an orc in one blow without using mana would require immense strength or extraordinary skill.

Ghislain, who had never trained and had a frail body, shouldn’t have such monstrous power.

So, there could only be one reason he managed to kill the orc.

Ghislain possessed a swordsmanship skill beyond imagination, striking at the exact weak point at the perfect moment.

“Grrah!”
“Graaaah!”

The orcs, who had been charging, suddenly stopped when the one at the front collapsed. They began to surround Ghislain.

Ghislain smirked and curled his lips.

“Oh, lucky me. You’re all coming at me first? That makes things easier.”

He had already gathered the soldiers and formed a line to reduce any potential casualties.

He could kill as many orcs as there were, but it was difficult, even for him, to prevent the soldiers from getting hurt.

Yet these foolish creatures were all rushing toward him. He almost felt like bowing in gratitude.

“Fighting without mana… It’s been a while.”

With an arrogant smile, Ghislain raised his sword.

At this time, he knew his family’s mana cultivation technique, but he had never properly trained in it.

In his previous life, it wasn’t until he left home and wandered as a mercenary that he began training—for survival.

And even then, at the beginning, he had to fight for his life without the use of mana.

But now, while it was similar to those days, it was also different. In his mind, he possessed the culmination of swordsmanship he had honed over the years.

“Come at me!”

“Graaaah!”

Bam!

The orcs swung their axes wildly, but Ghislain’s strange, fluid movements made all their strikes miss.

He dodged the attacks with minimal movement, using the force of the approaching orcs against them, slicing through the weakest part of their necks.

Slash!

“Grrrk!”

With each swing of his sword, another orc spewed blood and collapsed.

“Phew, my body really isn’t cooperating,” Ghislain muttered as he slashed his way through.

This body from this era was pathetically weak.

Even with just a little movement, sweat poured down like crazy, and his muscles ached from the strain.

It felt like his joints were creaking from the excessive movements.

Yet, despite all this, a smile never left his face.

He had spent decades in battle and slaughter. If he hadn’t learned to enjoy fighting, he wouldn’t have survived.

This feeling of pushing his body to its limits—it was still proof that he was alive.

Whoosh!

Boom!

Ghislain narrowly dodged the orcs’ attacks, taking them down one by one.

Watching this, Skovan swallowed hard. Even though he could use mana, he couldn’t move like that.

‘How… How is the Grand Duke moving like that?’

It was clear he was struggling, but in the moments he dodged or attacked, there wasn’t a single wasted motion.

Skovan had never seen swordsmanship like this in his entire life.

‘Incredible.’

As someone who trained in the sword, he found himself wanting to learn such perfect movements. It was like watching a Swordmaster who couldn’t use mana.

‘No… maybe even more than that…’

If someone else had heard his thoughts, they’d think he was crazy, but he was almost spot on.

The Seven Strongest on the Continent were all superhuman beings, beyond the limits of humanity. Their skills weren’t just techniques; they were insights that pierced through the very essence of combat.

Even without mana or a strong body, the experience and skill Ghislain had accumulated allowed him to surpass those limitations.

Crack!

With another swing of Ghislain’s sword, yet another orc coughed up blood and collapsed.

“Grrrk!”

The remaining orcs began to retreat, stumbling back in fear.

There had been more than twenty orcs, but now only five were left. In just a brief moment, most of them had been slain, their throats either slashed or stabbed by Ghislain’s blade.

“What, done already? I haven’t even warmed up yet. And you call yourselves a warrior race? Pathetic,” Ghislain taunted them, pointing his sword at the orcs with a smirk.

Of course, his true thoughts were completely different.

‘Ha… I’m going to die at this rate. I just want to lie down. Was I really this weak back then?’

Wielding power beyond one’s limits always came with a price.

Ghislain’s frail body was starting to give out on him.