The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 297: Chapter 296: Not Yet the Time (2)



When Belinda launched her attack, not everyone was asleep like Bernaph.

Amelia's advisor, Conrad, the leader of Actium Merchants Guild, was also staying awake, reviewing and organizing various matters.

Adjusting his monocle, he flipped through documents, muttering to himself.

"It's fortunate the young lady stocked up on food. I thought we'd suffer losses, but things are turning out much better than expected."

Conrad smiled in satisfaction.

The lady he served, Amelia, was truly extraordinary. Her vast knowledge was one thing, but her ability to apply it strategically and her mastery of diplomacy were so impressive even seasoned men marveled.

And there was more. Amelia possessed a unique intuition. Her actions, sometimes driven by instinct, often yielded surprising results.

The decision to buy food in bulk during the recent drought was one such example.

As Conrad smiled, his expression suddenly hardened, and his hand moved to the rapier at his hip.

"Hmm...."

A strange sensation crawled up his neck, as if an insect were skittering across it. But it wasn't a real insect.

It was bloodlust.

Clang!

With lightning speed, Conrad drew his rapier and thrust it into a shadowed corner of the tent. At the same moment, a figure emerged from the darkness within the tent.

"Tch."

Conrad clicked his tongue. He had aimed for the intruder's face, but they had evaded skillfully. However, they hadn't avoided the strike completely-a thin line of blood trickled from their cheek where their mask had been grazed.

Seeing the assassin's emotionless face, Conrad tilted his head slightly. The face looked familiar.

After a brief moment of recollection, he smirked with scorn and spoke.

"You... aren't you the escort of the 'Bribe King'?"

The assassin targeting Conrad was Wendy, formerly an escort to Claude.

Due to the sensitive nature of this mission, she had been forced to participate in the operation.

Conrad had seen her before when he visited Fenris to oversee the first trade deal.

Still smirking, Conrad continued.

"Your presence here means Count Fenris considers us his enemies as well, doesn't it?"

Wendy remained expressionless as she replied.

"I was never here. So, please don't pretend to know me later."

With that, she threw a series of daggers.

Swish, swish, swish.

Conrad deftly dodged the flying blades, countering with a thrust of his rapier. However, Wendy seemed to have no intention of engaging further, retreating while pulling something from her pouch.

Clack.

The sound of metal locking into place was followed by a burst of sparks. Realizing her intent, Conrad frowned.

Wendy retrieved an oil-soaked cloth, lit it, and threw it onto a pile of documents.

Whoosh!

Conrad quickly released a burst of mana, using his rapier to snatch the cloth and extinguish the flames. But Wendy had thrown more than one.

She set fires in multiple spots before darting out of the tent, and soon flames began rising across the Rayfold camp.

"Damn it! What's going on? Who are these bastards?"

Vulcan stormed out of his tent, swinging his club in rage, shouting loud enough to shake the ground. Caleb, grinding his teeth, stomped on the corpse of a masked assassin.

As the leader of the Wildcat Smugglers and an assassin himself, Caleb seemed deeply offended to have been targeted by other assassins.

Both Vulcan and Caleb dealt with their attackers with ease, but not everyone in the camp was as skilled as they were.

Several officers in the Rayfold army were caught off guard and killed, plunging the camp into chaos.

"The commander of the 4th Infantry Company is dead!"

"Catch them! What are you doing?"

"They've vanished! The enemy's gone!"

Caught off guard by the unexpected attack, the camp was in complete disarray. Soldiers scrambled to capture the assassins, but Belinda and her team were already retreating.

As she fled, Belinda glanced back at the Rayfold camp, her gaze tinged with regret.

"It's not as easy as I thought."n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

As Ghislain had predicted, the Rayfold forces had been moving quickly and weren't maintaining a high level of vigilance. Even so, she hadn't managed to kill as many as she'd

hoped.

In fact, many of her assassins had suffered losses. Clicking her tongue, Belinda muttered to

herself bitterly.

"These agents were painstakingly trained..."

Ghislain and Belinda had been quietly building an assassination squad for some time. Talented individuals had been carefully selected and trained, living undercover as ordinary

servants within the territory.

Their existence was a closely guarded secret, known only to Ghislain's most trusted aides.

Naturally, the best among them were veterans Belinda had been training personally, like

Wendy.

"When I get back, I'll need to train more agents."

While their individual skills were not lacking, their numbers were still insufficient.

This was especially true when dealing with high-level targets, as in this operation. The low-

level assassins had neither succeeded in their missions nor escaped safely.

Still, the fires and chaos they caused achieved their objective, buying time.

After the assassins retreated, Amelia surveyed the camp, her fury boiling over. She couldn't

contain her rage and shouted at the top of her lungs.

"Ghislain! Ghislain! That bastard dared to attack me!"

Flames roared all around, and horses ran amok. The sudden assault had turned the camp into

utter pandemonium.

Once again, she had fallen victim to Ghislain. To be outplayed in such an unexpected manner

was unbearable.

Breathing heavily, Amelia scanned the camp. Everyone was rushing about in confusion.

"Put out the fires, quickly!"

"Check the personnel!"

"Find out where they broke through!"

The soldiers were equally disoriented, though some had managed to arm themselves and

began guarding the perimeter.

After some time, a knight approached Amelia and bowed his head.

She glanced at the knight and asked sharply.

"What's the damage?"

"The casualties are not severe. However... a few company commanders were killed."

The knight reported the assessed losses. Though the number of deaths among the soldiers was low, the loss of experienced officers was a significant blow.

Good officers were often harder to replace than knights. Several mid-level officers Amelia had carefully chosen were now dead, and it would take considerable time to recover from this

setback.

The knight's report didn't end there.

"They released the horses and spread poison around before setting the fires. As a result, many

horses either escaped or died. The mages have since purified the poison, and we are rounding

up the escaped horses."

Horses were essential to maintaining their pace. Crippling their mobility was clearly one of

the attackers' main objectives.

Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Amelia asked again.

"How did they even get in?"

Even though they had been focused on speed, they hadn't neglected security. The Rayfold army was known for its discipline, and Amelia, in particular, emphasized vigilance, ensuring

no one slacked off in their duties.

High-level knights and mages had also been rotating shifts to maintain the watch.

And yet, despite an army of 5,000, the assassins had managed to infiltrate undetected.

Moreover, not all the assassins were highly skilled. Many had failed to escape and were killed.

The knight hesitated briefly before continuing.

"There were tunnels...." "Tunnels? How could they have known where we'd camp and dug tunnels?"

"They weren't large. More like hiding pits. They must have prepared them in multiple locations, then monitored our movements and hid nearby. We found a few outside the camp

as well."

"Go on."

"Coincidentally, some of the pits ended up beneath our soldiers' tents. They used those to infiltrate the camp, start the fires, and signal others to attack. The timing of the strikes

varied."

The knight quickly explained the situation.

As he reported, Belinda had anticipated the Rayfold army's movements and had been

watching them closely.

That foresight allowed her to have her assassins prepared and hidden near their camp.

Patience was the hallmark of a skilled assassin. Staying cramped in uncomfortable hiding spots for days was not unusual-it was a fundamental part of their training. Amelia clenched her lips tightly. With no imminent enemy and a focus on speed, the internal security level had inevitably been lower.

With 5,000 men needing to camp, the size of the encampment naturally grew massive. Once

the approximate location was identified, it was relatively easy to infiltrate the inner area.

"How... how on earth is he doing this..."

She still couldn't understand. How could Ghislain predict her every move so precisely?

'I must find out. This isn't luck, nor is it some instinctual guess. He acts with absolute certainty.'

She could no longer think of Ghislain as someone with exceptional luck or simply a brilliant genius. Based on everything he had accomplished so far, he seemed closer to a prophet.

But how he achieved this remained an enigma. Frustrated, she pressed her fingers against her

temples.

Bernaph, standing beside her, cautiously asked.

"If Ghislain is already on the move, what do we do now? We have to reach there before him,

don't we?" Judging by the situation, it seemed the Rayfold and Fenris forces were moving simultaneously. However, Ghislain's army was known to consist entirely of cavalry, renowned

for their speed. By now, they were surely rushing toward the Desmond estate at an incredible

pace. With this realization, Bernaph spoke again.

"How about sending out the remaining horses with cavalry and knights right now? We won't

lose in terms of speed."

"There will be traps."

If Ghislain's forces had been bold enough to infiltrate her camp, they wouldn't have neglected

to prepare traps along the obvious routes. The goal was clear, and they would undoubtedly have set up countermeasures for the cavalry. Amelia unfolded a map and studied it once more before speaking.

"We can't give up just because of that. Divide into three groups. One will take the fastest

route, another the middle path, and the third will go the long way around. Ignore everything else and prioritize occupying the fortresses and strongholds I've marked."

Desmond was a major territory, far larger and more strategic than other northern estates, which typically comprised a few villages or, at most, a town and a fortress or two. Securing non-critical locations would be useless. It would only mark them as invaders and guarantee their expulsion.

At the very least, they had to occupy one of the key locations to claim the pretense of being allies. If they managed that, the Duke's faction would handle the rest.

At Amelia's command, the knights and cavalry quickly organized and set out.

Their sole mission was to secure the regions Amelia had designated and hold them until the

main force arrived.

Dududududu!

The cavalry, visibly fatigued from their lack of rest, pressed on with grim determination. As always, their rigorous training ensured they remained disciplined.

After sending off the cavalry, Amelia swept her sharp gaze over those who remained and

spoke.

"Recover as quickly as possible and move out. There's no time to rest."

If Ghislain had anticipated her actions and prepared to counter them, he too would be heading

toward Desmond. It was now a race against time. They had to move faster.

Grit.

Even as she marched, Amelia ground her teeth.

'Ghislain, Ghislain... that damned bastard...'

The humiliation of being bested yet again refused to subside. Had she simply stayed still, she

wouldn't have suffered this disgrace.

Just as she expected, the fastest route was littered with fallen cavalry. Most had died after falling into spike-filled pits. Those who avoided the traps were thrown

off their horses by wooden stakes placed cleverly at just the right height to trip the animals.

Injured soldiers lay groaning on the ground, while the few unscathed cavalrymen tended to

the wounded, unable to push forward.

The soldiers brought one of the stakes to Amelia.

Carved into the wood were the words:

[Made with love by the Great Blacksmith and friends.]

"Those wretches..."

Amelia's eyes burned with fury. Not only had they blocked the path, but they'd also left such

an infuriating

taunt.

From the inscription alone, she could tell who was responsible. It was clearly the dwarves

residing in Fenris.

Her resolve to capture and kill them intensified.

As they tended to the wounded, cavalry from another route returned.

"What happened?"

"There were obstacles."

"Obstacles?"

"At the narrowest point of the canyon, they had piled wood and stones to create a barricade.

We had no choice but to turn back and take a different route. We brought back something we

found there."

The cavalry leader handed over a wooden stake.

[Made with love by the Great Blacksmith and friends.]

|| ||

Amelia had heard rumors of the peculiarities in Fenris territory. Seeing the handiwork

firsthand, she was left speechless.

It was too late to take a detour. The Rayfold forces worked quickly to clear the traps and

resumed their march.

When they finally approached their first target, a nearby fortress, the cavalry that had taken

the longest route rejoined the main force.

"Apologies, my lady. The enemy has already occupied the fortress."

||||

How could they have moved so quickly? To capture a frontline fortress right after the battle

ended?

It wasn't a case of betrayal; no one could have leaked her plans, as she hadn't shared them with anyone.

Without a word, Amelia maintained a cold expression. She led her forces closer to the fortress.

Sure enough, the flag of Fenris fluttered atop Desmond's frontline fortress.

""

Amelia stared silently at the flag. Bernaph quietly stepped back, aware of how dangerous she

became in her moments of deepest rage.

'I told her not to get involved with that man. Taking Rayfold was already enough. She could've been

satisfied with half the north.'

Bernaph internally lamented, unable to voice his thoughts. Amelia's ambitions were far

beyond what he could comprehend or follow.

'If only she could set aside her greed, we could live happily together.'

He had always dreamed of a simple life, one of peaceful happiness with her. Despite her lofty

ambitions, his desires were humble.

Amelia's silence made it impossible for her aides to speak. They knew that provoking her now would bring dire consequences.

As the Rayfold forces stood staring at the fortress, its gates suddenly creaked open.

Creaaak...

Out rode Ghislain on a black horse, flanked by knights, slowly approaching the Rayfold army.

Seeing this, Amelia also mounted her horse and advanced at a steady pace. Bernaph and her

knights surrounded her protectively.

Ghislain, still bloodied from battle, and Amelia, pristine as ever, stopped at a respectful distance.

Ghislain was the first to speak.

"It's been a while, Amelia."

Amelia, tilting her chin slightly, responded with an arrogant smile.

"It has indeed, Ghislain."

The two gazed at each other, smiling.

Their eyes, however, were filled with pure hostility.

Before the smiles could fade, Amelia's hand twitched ever so slightly, and simultaneously,

mana began to gather at Ghislain's spear.

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