The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Inside the lavish tent, Count Tamos Digald raged, furiously pacing back and forth.

Ferdium had already abandoned the battle and holed up inside their fortress.

In the end, they’d have to lay siege, but without the supply unit, they couldn’t drag it out for long.

“That idiot Favreau! I never should have entrusted him with the unit! How could he be ambushed by the likes of Ferdium!”

Favreau was the leader of the largest faction among Digald’s vassals.

Though he was a useless fellow, Tamos had reluctantly assigned him to the supply unit. He hadn’t expected such a catastrophic mistake.

No, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of an ambush by Ferdium.

“How in the world did they manage to pull off an ambush with what little they had?”

It was common sense that the smaller the force, the harder it was to execute such a bold strategy.

The risks were too high if they failed.

A sensible commander wouldn’t even think of attempting it.

“Damn it! At this rate, even if we win, we won’t have enough forces left to manage the occupied territory.”

The entire supply unit was composed of Digald’s forces, so the blow was severe.

In an attempt to conserve them, he had sent them to the rear, but that had turned out to be the worst possible move.

“Calm yourself, Count.”

Beside Tamos sat a large man with a stern expression, arms folded across his chest.

His name was Viktor.

He was a skilled warrior, meticulously trained by Count Desmond.

“How can I be calm? Most of the stones for the catapults were being transported by the supply unit. We barely have any left here.”

“That’s unfortunate, but we only need to breach one or two sections of the wall. The siege towers and the main forces are still intact, so it’s not a problem.”

“Still, won’t it be difficult if it takes too long? We only have enough provisions for a few days.”

Tamos harbored an irrational fear of siege warfare.

Without any experience in war, strategies and tactics simply didn’t register with him.

“I planned to end this in one strike. Ferdium isn’t properly prepared for a siege anyway.”

“How do you know that?”

Tamos asked, puzzled. Viktor responded with a sneer plastered across his face.

“It comes from experience. Just remember, there’s no need to worry; this will be over soon.”

“Well, if that’s the case, it’s fine by me. Haha.”

After all, they had an overwhelming number of troops. Whether they clashed head-on or launched a siege, it would be over quickly.

Tamos laughed outwardly, but inside, he cursed Viktor.

‘Arrogant bastard. Speaking to me, the Count, in that tone. Just a lowly knight.’

The longer he spoke with Viktor, the more his resentment grew, but he kept it hidden.

The one actually commanding the main forces was not Tamos, but Viktor.

“Ahem, so, do you think we can finish this before Count Rogues arrives with reinforcements?”

“They won’t be able to come.”

On the path from Ferdium to the Rogues Estate, Amelia had already set up camp.

“Heh, Count Desmond has prepared thoroughly. That foolish Ferdium should have latched onto another lord as soon as he got his hands on the Runestone.”

Tamos sneered as he continued.

“Still, it’s fortunate that we can trample on Ferdium before it grows any larger. Gilmore’s death wasn’t in vain after all. That troublesome brat managed to pay his respects in the end. Ah, what a fine lad.”

He didn’t care much about Gilmore’s death. After all, he could always have another son.

What truly mattered was that once this war was over, he would be able to claim the title of a grand lord.

‘It’s a shame to split the Forest of Beasts in half… but there’s no other choice right now.’

In exchange for lending his forces, Desmond had demanded half of the rights to develop the Forest of Beasts.

Since Digald’s forces alone wouldn’t be enough to attack Ferdium, Tamos had reluctantly agreed.

Of course, he planned to get rid of Desmond as soon as he had gained strength through the Runestone.

As he envisioned the future, Tamos, now beaming, spoke cautiously.

“Ahem, but with things as they are… I’m not sure we have enough troops to fully stabilize Ferdium. Even if we start conscripting right away, it will take time…”

“I’ll lend you some troops after the occupation.”

“Haha, much appreciated. I’ll be sure to repay this debt to you, Count Desmond.”

Only then did Tamos finally relax, laughing cheerfully once more.

Viktor returned the smile but hid a glint of murderous intent in his eyes.

‘Pathetic fool. As soon as we seize Ferdium, you’ll be dead as well.’

Tamos was slated to be recorded as having tragically perished during the war.

That would leave only Tamos’ second son as the heir to the Digald Estate.

How to deal with him would be up to Count Desmond.

‘The annihilation of the supply unit turned out well.’

They were troops he intended to wipe out anyway, but Ferdium had dealt with them for him, like blowing one’s nose without lifting a finger.

‘Still, this is unexpected. Could it have been Randolph? Or was it Zwalter after all? Either way, it doesn’t matter. They’ll all die in the end.’

Viktor halted his thoughts and stood up from his seat.

“I should get going. We’ll be arriving in Ferdium soon, so be ready.”

“Ahem, understood.”

As Viktor stepped out of the tent, he slowly scanned the encampment.

The grand army of six thousand was filled with elite soldiers, each one a matchless fighter wherever they went.

There were even monstrously expensive siege towers, the likes of which small estates would rarely ever see.

“With this, even Raypold could be swept away in one blow.”

The forces were strong enough to challenge Raypold, one of the grand lords of the North.

Ferdium was of little concern to him.

It was merely something he could handle lightly, like having a cup of tea after a meal, and then return.

No matter how much Ferdium struggled, they couldn’t escape their predetermined fate.

“Another family is facing its end.”

Viktor muttered to himself without much emotion.

The fact that Count Desmond had sent him meant he was to completely and decisively snuff out the enemy.

He had more than enough ability to do so.

After all, he was the North’s foremost knight.

* * *

“We’ve caught another one.”

Bernarf stood in front of Amelia, bowing as he reported.

Amelia sat under the tent, wearing a bored expression.

“How many has it been so far?”

“Five.”

“Make sure every path is well guarded. Don’t let a single one slip away.”

“Understood.”

“This is killing me with boredom.”

Amelia was blocking all the routes leading to the Rogues Estate, hunting down Ferdium’s soldiers.

She had reluctantly agreed to move at Count Desmond’s request, but spending time here just to catch messengers was a blow to her pride.

She felt irritation creeping in as she sat idly by.

“Nyaa.”

Bastet, apparently bored as well, kept yawning in her arms.

Bernarf lowered his head with a forlorn expression.

‘Ah, I wish I could just relax and have fun alongside them.’

Around Amelia, maids stood fanning her, with an assortment of fruits placed within reach.

Though she gave the orders to catch the messengers, it seemed as if she was on a picnic, enjoying herself without a care.

After a while, the soldiers brought in the corpse of yet another messenger.

Amelia, upon seeing it, muttered in irritation.

“Ha, how many did they send? Count Ferdium sure is persistent.”

Though it was understandable, given that his estate was on the brink of destruction, it was a futile struggle.

“When things are clearly over, he should have the dignity to surrender. Like father, like son. They’re all the same. Tsk tsk.”

Amelia was well aware that war had already broken out.

She found it somewhat disappointing. She had hoped to be the one to personally take Ghislain’s head.

“And the Runestone is such a waste. It won’t be easy to take it back if Count Desmond sits on it.”

Her greatest regret was undoubtedly the Runestone.

But as things stood, her forces alone weren’t enough to defeat Count Desmond.

“Well, I’ll just have to bide my time and snatch it later.”

Being ambitious and tenacious, she wasn’t one to give up on the Runestone so easily.

While Amelia leisurely planned her next moves, a subordinate came running up, shouting.

“Miss! Urgent news!”

“What is it?”

She glanced at him with irritation as he handed over a missive, his head bowed low.

“The Digald supply unit was annihilated?”

As she read the message, Amelia’s brows knitted together.

“Hmm, are they planning to hold their ground?”

After annihilating the supply unit, it appeared that the forces had holed up inside the fortress, waiting for the siege side to retreat. Victory seemed possible if reinforcements arrived.

But to someone like me, who was eliminating messengers to prevent those reinforcements from arriving, their plan was laughable.

By the time the news reached Count Rogues, everything would already be over.

“Risking their lives on such a flimsy hope while facing a massive army? Are they really planning to hold out with sheer willpower or something?”

I couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief.

If it were up to me, I’d act completely differently.

I’d abandon both the people and the castle, pull the troops out, and launch a guerrilla war instead.

With their supplies cut off, if I harassed them persistently, Desmond—who had so much to lose—would have no choice but to retreat.

To Amelia, Count Ferdium’s pride in protecting his people to the bitter end was absurdly inefficient.

Winning the war would mean the people could be reclaimed immediately. The citizens only needed to endure for a short time.

“Such a tender heart. Doesn’t he realize that approach is leading more people to their deaths?”

From her perspective, it seemed like a death pact for everyone involved.

Amelia was about to carelessly toss the letter aside when she hesitated.

“Something’s off. I smell something suspicious.”

Anything involving Ferdium—no, that scoundrel Ghislain—never went smoothly as expected.

“What do you smell?”

Ignoring Bernarf’s puzzled expression, Amelia paused, then continued.

“Send more men toward Ferdium. Tell them to come right after the battle’s outcome is decided. Make sure they keep a close watch on the situation.”

“Is that necessary? Given the difference in forces, it would be hard for them not to win.”

She turned to Bernarf with an irritated glare.

“Send them. Something feels strange.”

“…Understood.”

A strange premonition nagged at her, tickling the back of her neck.

‘There’s no way that bastard Ghislain would just sit still. Follow a straightforward strategy and obediently do as he’s told? No way.’

Amelia had been robbed of twenty thousand gold and even attempted assassination, though that had failed.

She had tried to corner Ghislain by cutting off support for Ferdium, but that had also fallen through.

While she despised Ghislain, she wasn’t foolish enough to ignore what she had learned from experience.

‘That scoundrel must be plotting something beyond imagination again.’

The ominous feeling gnawed at the back of her mind.

Amelia shook her head, trying to dispel the unease.

“Anyway, move quickly. Send enough people to keep a close eye on things.”

Bernarf nodded in agreement.

“Still, the audacity to launch an ambush and cut off their supplies is quite impressive. It’s nothing short of bold.”

“Indeed.”

Amelia responded dismissively, but Bernarf, emboldened by her acknowledgment, continued.

“Wouldn’t it have been Count Ferdium’s doing? Or maybe Knight Commander Randolph? Perhaps they worked together.”

Amelia burst out laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Do you really think those two did it?”

“Didn’t they? Who else could it have been?”

Amelia snorted.

“Randolph is indeed brave and reckless, but all he can do on the battlefield is swing a sword. He doesn’t have the mind to think of an ambush to cut off supplies. Even if he tried, he’d likely fail and get caught.”

“So, was it Count Ferdium then?”

“Count Ferdium is a competent commander… but he doesn’t gamble recklessly with his soldiers’ lives. That’s why he’s been able to hold the Northern Fortress for so long.”

“Then who do you think it was? Don’t tell me….”

The ambush was successful by sheer luck, but objectively speaking, it was a reckless gamble.

And there happened to be one madman in Ferdium who would have no qualms about pulling such a stunt.

Amelia twisted one corner of her mouth into a cold smile.

“Right. It’s definitely that bastard Ghislain.”