The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations (light Novel)

Ghislain shook his head when he heard the news.
“I told them to flee.”
Just before the coalition forces were split because of Helgenique, Ghislain had sent word to the Kingdom of Grimwell.

He had given them plenty of time to escape.
Still, he had anticipated that they wouldn’t flee.
“Their pride is too great for that.”

The Kingdom of Grimwell was a military powerhouse, often compared to the Kingdom of Ruthania. At its core were the three pillars of strength—superhumans that the kingdom relied upon.
“They may be strong, but…”
The Cult of Salvation was stronger. Even without their half-powered priests, they possessed superhumans who were essentially living strategic weapons. Among them was Aiden, who would eventually become one of the continent’s Seven Strongest.

But there was something even more dangerous.
“The tactical genius, Count Vipenvelt.”
Ghislain grimaced slightly as the thought crossed his mind.

In his previous life, when the hidden identity of the Atrode Kingdom fought alongside the Human Alliance, Ghislain had witnessed Count Vipenvelt’s brilliance on numerous occasions and admired it deeply.
Of course, Count Vipenvelt had also praised Ghislain’s military strategies, and the two men had come to respect each other as comrades-in-arms.
When Ghislain first returned to this timeline, he had even considered recruiting him. But once he realized that the Atrode Kingdom was allied with the Cult of Salvation, such a thought became impossible.

“One of us has to die for this to end.”
Ghislain pushed aside his bitter thoughts.
No matter how powerful the superhumans and elite forces of Grimwell were, they couldn’t hope to contend with the Cult of Salvation.

Ignoring his warning and choosing to fight had led to the inevitable result. The royal capital of Grimwell had fallen, and the king himself had been captured.
A messenger brought further news.
“Not all of Grimwell’s territory has been conquered yet! The Atrode forces only targeted the royal capital. Lords from various regions are gathering their forces!”
Ghislain nodded. Others might not understand the Cult of Salvation’s strategy, but he did.

This was no longer a simple war between nations; it was a fight between humanity and the cult. Capturing the king didn’t mean it was over. Complete conquest and extermination were required, so much so that even a pretense of justification was unnecessary.
Still, Ghislain knew why the Cult of Salvation had moved so quickly.
“The holy relic.”

Did Gatros acquire what he desired? If so, what relic had he found?
Ghislain thought back to the Saintess he had seen in his dream.
“Yes, she definitely…”

The Saintess had worn the necklace.
And there was something else. Around her wrist was a bracelet—simple and unadorned, much like the necklace he now possessed.
“Could it be that?”

He couldn’t be certain, but the thought nagged at him. He recalled how he had brought back the cup the Saintess had used. How could he confirm the truth?
Ghislain chuckled to himself.
“Strange dreams, and even stranger questions. Those bastards have me far too curious.”

Once, he would have ignored such mysteries outright. But this time, it felt impossible to let them go.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that something about the dreams and the relics was important.
“That so-called Adversary… he seemed immensely strong. Is he the ‘king’ the Cult of Salvation keeps talking about?”

The Adversary reminded Ghislain of himself when he amplified his strength using Dark. In a way, it was as though the Adversary wielded something similar.
Ghislain didn’t fully understand Dark’s origins or nature. Could it be possible that the Adversary wielded a similar force?
The more he dreamt, the more uneasy he felt—like he was forgetting something important.

“These dreams keep weighing on my mind.”
Ghislain shook his head, brushing aside his thoughts. He couldn’t allow his focus to slip.
Whether it was the Cult of Salvation’s strategy or the dreams themselves, the answer remained the same: do what needed to be done.

“Wipe out the rest of the resistance, then march on the Kingdom of Grimwell. Send word to the remaining lords of Grimwell: tell them not to resist recklessly.”
With that, Ghislain resumed his campaign according to plan.
The Ruthanian army was a massive force, so their movements were slow, but their battles were brief. Because of this, they advanced faster than any other coalition army.

The allied forces also made steady progress, capturing strongholds with ease. The toughest fortresses had all been assigned to the Ruthanian army, so there was little resistance.
Ghislain, constantly receiving updates from Dark and his messengers, remained calm and confident.
“This won’t take long.”

The Atrode forces, with their main strength diverted to the Kingdom of Grimwell, couldn’t withstand the coalition army. The Atrode commanders surely knew this as well.
Even so, they continued to resist. Maintaining control of Atrode was vital for supplying their forces in Grimwell.
If Atrode fell completely, the troops in Grimwell would face severe logistical challenges.

Count Vipenvelt undoubtedly understood this.
“He’ll take as much as he can here and rely on local supplies there.”
The Kingdom of Grimwell would soon be looted to the point of collapse.

The Ruthanian forces continued their steady march—slow but relentless.
When they reached another fortress, Ghislain noticed something strange.
“…They’ve fled?”

The fortress was empty. The Atrode forces had clearly realized they couldn’t hold their ground against the Ruthanian army.
However, Ghislain doubted they had abandoned the fight completely. Their mission now was likely to buy time while moving as many supplies as possible to Grimwell.
Sure enough, the Atrode forces had shifted to a new strategy.

They had gathered all their remaining troops from the surrounding strongholds and formed a massive defensive line in one place.
Seeing this, Ghislain smirked.
“I understand their reasoning, but…”

This was their only option. Rather than being picked off one by one, they had chosen to gather and put up a unified fight.
The assembled force numbered around 100,000. Even though they had pooled soldiers from multiple strongholds, this wasn’t a number the Atrode Kingdom could field under normal circumstances.
Ghislain examined the enemy forces closely and shook his head.

“Conscripts.”
With their main army gone, the Atrode forces had relied on a skeleton defense force to hold the fortresses. But the Meteor operation had forced them to abandon those defenses.
Facing such an overwhelming enemy, they had turned to conscription to bolster their numbers.

Despite being a wealthy military nation, the Atrode Kingdom couldn’t afford to field 100,000 fully equipped soldiers under the current circumstances.
Ghislain frowned as he observed the conscripts.
“They seriously think this will work? Pathetic.”

Most of those in the front lines were teenage boys and elderly men. Their equipment was poor, and their faces were pale with terror.
The real soldiers—well-armed knights and trained infantry—stood at the back. The conscripts were clearly being used as fodder to tire out the Ruthanian army.
“WAAAAAH!”

Suddenly, the Atrode forces let out a battle cry and began to charge. Lacking mages, their only strategy was to launch a reckless attack.
If they hesitated, they would be struck down by spells before they could even reach the enemy lines.
Ghislain watched the oncoming enemy calmly.

Their desperate shouts were meant to give them courage, but the terror was still evident in their eyes.
“…”
It was a pitiful sight—so poorly coordinated that it was almost embarrassing to watch.

Some boys cried as they ran forward, while elderly conscripts tripped and were trampled by their own allies.
Ghislain sighed as he looked at the shabby conscripts with a mix of pity and disdain.
“This is war.”

Most of them had been dragged here against their will, forced to fight because of the whims of those in power.
They had no choice in how they lived or died.
Even so, Ghislain knew that in war, you either killed or were killed. There was no room for pity on the battlefield.

Still, in this moment, Ghislain realized he had the power to decide the direction of this war.
“…Prepare yourselves.”
Ghislain spoke quietly.

Clank, clank, clank.
At his command, knights dismounted and raised their shields. Kaor and the assault troops moved in tandem with them.
Gillian, Tenant, and Belinda instinctively stepped closer to Ghislain.

Ghislain glanced toward Parniel and spoke.
“With divine power, this will be much easier.”
“Should we call Jerome?”

“In this case, it’ll only confuse the enemy more. Besides, Jerome is busy. I’ll take this opportunity to train the soldiers.”
“Understood. I was uneasy about this as well.”
Ghislain dismounted his black horse and gestured to the mages and priests at the back.

“Let’s begin.”
Rumble!
A massive stone wall erupted along the path of the advancing Atrode army.

Vanessa and the mages focused on blocking the enemy’s path rather than attacking directly.
Only a single gap remained open in the center.
“W-What?”

The charging Atrode soldiers stumbled to a halt. There was no way for conscripts to scale or destroy such a massive stone wall.
Their own mages were too preoccupied defending the commanders to help.
“Move! Move aside!”

“Go that way! Over there!”
“Stop pushing!”
With their path blocked, the soldiers fell into complete disarray. They had no choice but to funnel into the single open gap.

Ghislain watched the chaos unfold in silence.
When a knight handed him a Galvanium mace, he took it and stepped forward.
FWOOOOOSH!

All across the Ruthanian formation, radiant light of divine power burst forth. Piote and the priests blessed the soldiers at the frontlines.
Ghislain raised his Galvanium baton and spoke.
“Entire army… subdue the enemy.”

The moment he finished speaking, Ghislain surged forward.
The superhumans, knights, and assault units quietly followed behind him, all drawing their Galvanium batons from their waists.
Rumble!

The stone walls blocking the enemy suddenly vanished. The enemy formation, already in chaos, became completely disjointed.
Clank, clank, clank!
The Mobile Corps at the front also raised their shields and removed the spearheads from their Galvanium polearms, leaving them as solid batons.

Ghislain smirked as he looked at the conscripts charging toward him.
“The Cult of Salvation won’t get what they want. I’ve always liked doing the opposite of what they expect.”
Beside him, Parniel also smiled faintly and slammed her massive mace into the ground.

BOOM!
“Uwaaah!”
The ground shook violently, causing the conscripts to stumble and fall. Ghislain darted in during the confusion.

Whack! Whack! Whack!
Ghislain swung his baton with precision, knocking the conscripts down one by one. He struck with enough control to avoid killing them.
THUD!

The superhumans who followed him did the same. As they knocked down conscripts, the knights pushed back any who tried to rush in from the sides with their shields.
Even so, the sheer number of conscripts allowed them to press forward again. Those who got too close were swiftly struck down by the assault units, who continued clearing a path.
Ghislain laughed loudly as he knocked down more conscripts.

“Think of this as a tough training session! You won’t get another chance like this!”
At a glance, there were nearly 80,000 conscripts—scraped together from every nearby town.
Even if they were just conscripts, their sheer numbers were overwhelming. But Ghislain had no intention of stopping.

To him, this wasn’t a battle. It was training.
The knights and assault units grumbled as they pushed and struck the enemy.
“Ugh! I knew things had been too easy lately!”

“How many of them are we supposed to knock down?!”
“Well, at least it’s not just us doing all the work.”
Subduing an enemy without killing them was far more difficult than simply cutting them down. If they’d chosen to charge on horseback, the conscripts would have been wiped out in an instant.

But as far as training went, it was invaluable. This was real combat where they could die, yet they had to hold back enough to avoid killing their opponents.
Situations like this were rare, which is why Ghislain called it training.
Parniel didn’t participate in the fighting. She focused solely on radiating divine power and keeping an eye on the allies around her.

Before long, the conscripts stopped even trying to charge at the assault units.
Whack! Whack! Whack!
The Mobile Corps arrived and began clearing wide swaths of the battlefield with their polearms, knocking conscripts aside with ease.

No matter how the conscripts swung their weapons, the Ruthanian soldiers remained unscathed. Their Galvanium armor rendered the attacks useless.
Breaking through with their crude weapons was impossible.
“Our weapons aren’t doing anything!”

“Push them with your bodies!”
“How are we supposed to kill them?!”
The conscripts were knocked down one after another. Those who fell groaned in pain but were still alive.

It was then that they realized—
The enemy was showing them mercy.
An old man, who had fallen, grabbed a younger conscript trying to stand up.

“Stay down.”
“Huh?”
“Just stay down. The Duke of Fenris is sparing us right now.”

Realizing this, the young conscript quickly dropped to the ground. Lying there, he noticed that everyone around him was groaning but otherwise staying down as well.
“I… I’m alive.”
His heart pounded as he tried to calm himself. He had been certain he was going to die.

In his panic, he hadn’t been able to see what was happening around him. But now it was clear—the Ruthanian army was simply knocking people down without killing them.
Others began to notice as well.
Initially, they had fought desperately, believing they were going to die anyway. But now that the situation had changed, so had their resolve.

These conscripts were ordinary farmers and laborers. They understood that the real evil on this continent was the Cult of Salvation.
One by one, conscripts began collapsing without even being struck. They realized that staying down was their only chance to survive.
Finally, the atmosphere Ghislain wanted began to take shape.

Sensing that the time was right, Ghislain slammed his foot into the ground.
BOOOOM!
The earth cracked, and the surrounding conscripts tumbled to the ground.

Ghislain’s thunderous voice echoed across the battlefield.
“Lie down! From now on, only those who stay down will be spared!”
His words resounded like a roar of thunder, shaking the conscripts to their core.

They had already seen what happened to those who charged. They all fell, but none had died.
The Ruthanian army’s mercy was clear. And now Ghislain was offering them a final warning.
This was their only chance to live.

One conscript dropped his weapon and lay down. Seeing this, the soldier next to him also threw down his weapon and fell to the ground.
Soon, like a collapsing tide, all the conscripts of the Atrode army began throwing down their weapons and lying face down on the ground.