The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 258: Fighting for Real Today? (1)

Ghislain and his knights, about to head out for the hunt, noticed the large group approaching.

The knights, seeing Doncard for the first time, shared the same thought.

‘He’s filthy...’

‘Does this guy not bathe?’

‘So, he’s a “king”... More like the King of Beggars.’

Doncard was appallingly dirty. His matted hair and unkempt beard were tangled, radiating an almost tangible grime. Unidentifiable stains covered his body, and the stench was so strong that people instinctively moved away from him. Even his own followers kept a slight distance.

Despite his repulsive appearance, there was something about him that made it impossible to underestimate him. His eyes gleamed with the predatory hunger of a beast. In fact, his appearance made it clear that he had abandoned all semblance of humanity.

He was like a savage beast, living only to eat, sleep, and hunt—a creature that had discarded civilization entirely.

“Ghh... I heard some new faces have been messing with our hunting grounds... So, who’s the leader here?”

Doncard’s voice was slow and raspy, and he spat occasionally as he spoke, making him look even more unrefined.

Kaor and the knights turned their gazes toward Ghislain. Naturally, Doncard’s followers and onlookers also directed their attention to him.

“Is it you... the leader... Ghh.”

Doncard swallowed his own drool as he repeated the question, staring at Ghislain.

Ghislain, placing his arm around Kaor’s shoulder, grinned.

“From now on, he’ll be in charge here.”

Kaor looked at Ghislain, surprised.

“So, I’m... the lord of Fenris now?”

“Nope.”

“Then what kind of leader?”

“Well, once the training’s done, I’ll be heading back. If you want to settle down here, you should be in charge. That way, you can keep everyone in line and live comfortably.”

Kaor nodded. With the lord gone, he’d be the strongest here. That made perfect sense.

Doncard, seeing Kaor’s attitude, smirked.

“Heh... in that case, let me make you an offer...”

Kaor, now acting as the interim leader, stepped forward confidently.

“What’s your offer?”

“You seem capable enough... So why don’t you join my ranks...? I’ll make sure you’re well taken care of.”

“Hm.”

Kaor tilted his head at the offer, then looked to Ghislain.

“What do I do in situations like this?”

“That’s up to you. Once I’m gone, you’re free to work under him if you want.”

Ghislain replied with a grin, and Kaor snorted, turning back to Doncard.

“Why don’t you join me instead? Maybe I’ll let you keep your life.”

The people around them burst into laughter. It had been a while since anyone dared speak so boldly to Doncard.

Doncard, still grinning, looked at Ghislain and his knights. However, his gaze grew sharper.

‘There’s too many of them... Killing them all would be risky...’

It wasn’t that killing was prohibited—that law was mostly ignored around here. The problem was that these newcomers weren’t pushovers, and there were quite a few of them. While he could likely wipe them out, it would come at a cost, and monsters would soon be swarming the area.

If he lost any of his men now, it could weaken his forces and make them vulnerable to attacks from other hunters. But he also couldn’t let this challenge to his authority go unanswered. To maintain power, he needed to deal with anyone who dared defy him.

Doncard addressed Kaor.

“Fight me one-on-one... If I win, you’ll hand over the inn and leave this place. Go find another fortress if you want to hunt monsters... Or leave now if you’re afraid.”

“Hah? A one-on-one duel? Against me, the greatest sword genius of the Ruthania Kingdom?”

No one called him that, but Kaor’s boast only made Doncard chuckle darkly.

“Yes... And since killing’s technically off-limits, we’ll settle this with fists... Though if you end up beaten to death, well... Heh.”

“This scumbag’s all talk, huh?”

Kaor was not one to tolerate provocations. He took an extra step forward, his temper flaring.

Ghislain, watching from behind, spoke calmly.

“Hey, you can handle this, right? Just follow what I taught you.”

“Watch closely, my lord. I’ll stomp this guy flat.”

Kaor cracked his neck, grinning. Doncard snickered as he approached Kaor.

The onlookers quickly backed away, making space for the fight. They were used to seeing duels like this.

As soon as the area cleared, Doncard threw a surprise punch.

Boom!

Kaor swiftly crossed his arms to block the blow. The impact left his arms tingling, a sign that Doncard was stronger than he had anticipated.

Doncard continued to grin smugly.

‘Impressive... maybe I should turn up the power a bit.’

Boom! Boom!

With his mana flaring, Doncard’s punches grew faster. Despite his filthy exterior, he was undeniably skilled.

“Damn!”

Kaor was taken aback. Doncard was tougher than he’d expected.

‘What the hell? This guy’s strong!’

He’d fought many knights in battle and knew he was one of the strongest in the North. With Ghislain’s training, his skill had only improved. He hadn’t thought any knight here could challenge him.

But as the fight went on, Kaor began losing ground.

‘Damn it! This guy’s no joke!’

Doncard’s moves were so unpredictable that even Kaor, who prided himself on adaptability, found it hard to keep up.

Clearly, this was no ordinary king of a rough fortress.

‘Stay calm... Stay focused.’

But despite his intentions, Kaor’s limbs felt clumsy and unsteady.

While Ghislain had taught him advanced techniques, it hadn’t been enough time to fully ingrain them. Techniques of this caliber took years to master, and Kaor had barely scratched the surface.

Ghislain, observing Kaor, clicked his tongue.

“Tsk, it’s always that impatience.”

Changing one’s natural tendencies is hard, especially when it’s something learned from countless life-or-death battles.

As Kaor grew desperate, he reverted to his old habits, recklessly targeting vital points in an attempt to end the fight quickly.

His movements became sloppy, relying on familiar techniques that he was more comfortable with.

“Grr!”

Unconsciously, Kaor clenched his teeth in frustration.

At first, he had landed a few punches, but now, his strikes were missing entirely, while Doncard looked more relaxed.

‘Heh... He’s a lot like me—gaining skill solely through experience. His strength is decent, but he’s not using it right. He’s one of those guys who’d be killed on the battlefield...’

Doncard chuckled. His opponent’s panic and desperation were palpable.

He had honed his techniques through countless fights in this place, perfecting his own style of combat. Given their similar backgrounds, his age and experience put him at a clear advantage.

Calm and collected, Doncard effortlessly blocked Kaor’s attacks and countered with punches of his own.

Thud! Thud!

“Gah!”

After taking several hits, Kaor grew visibly tired. His face was swelling, and blood trickled from a split lip.

The knights of Fenris, watching, were stunned.

Kaor was one of their strongest fighters, yet Doncard was slowly but surely gaining the upper hand.

‘This place really isn’t easy...’

‘It’s no wonder those who hunt monsters here aren’t to be underestimated.’

‘Maybe we’re just big fish in a small pond?’

Seeing Kaor getting battered made the knights nervous. The confidence they’d gained from beating up a few hunters quickly faded.

The onlookers, sensing the shift in momentum, began jeering at Kaor and cheering for Doncard.

“Haha! Serves him right! Bet he enjoyed hunting monsters, huh?”

“Hey, Redhead! Give it your best shot! You were doing well at first, what happened?”

“Doncard really is tough, isn’t he? They don’t call him the King of Ironcliff for nothing!”

While some hunters resented Doncard, others relied on him. After all, he’d killed more monsters than anyone else here.

And they weren’t too fond of Ghislain’s group, who had suddenly appeared and disrupted their hunting grounds.

Kaor’s frustration only grew as he heard the taunts.

‘Damn it! Damn it! Damn it!’

It felt like a fire was burning in his chest. He couldn’t stand this humiliation.

‘If Gillian were here, he wouldn’t be struggling like this.’

Gillian was a man of iron—a rugged, massive figure with an unshakable core.

No matter how strong Doncard was, Gillian would’ve calmly dismantled him, or maybe he would’ve beaten Doncard to a pulp by now.

As that thought crossed his mind, Kaor gained a new respect for Gillian’s skill. But he couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

‘I’m... I’m stronger than that old man!’

Try as he might, Kaor couldn’t calm down. His frustration boiled over.

Swish! Swish! Swish!

Now all of his punches were missing. Doncard dodged them effortlessly, countering with precise strikes.

Thud!

A punch from Doncard landed squarely on Kaor’s chin, sending him tumbling backward. It was a powerful blow, meant to show that he was merely toying with him.

Kaor felt a surge of humiliation as he struggled back to his feet, but the onlookers only jeered louder.

“Hahaha! That guy’s so weak! And he had the nerve to show off here?”

“Look at him, standing up out of pride! Hah!”

“Hey, come on, give it everything you’ve got! Doncard hasn’t even used his full strength yet!”

With mockery coming at him from all sides, Kaor’s frustration reached its peak. Glaring at the crowd, he shouted furiously.

“Shut up, you damn bastards! After I’m done with this guy, I’ll wipe the floor with all of you!”

But his outburst only made things worse, fueling more jeers and laughter.

“Damn it!” Kaor muttered, focusing back on Doncard. He threw a punch, aiming directly at that smug face, unable to bear the mocking gaze anymore.

“I’m the strongest here, you bastard!” he yelled.

“Yeah, right,” Doncard scoffed, sidestepping easily.

Kaor’s movement was too big, too slow. Doncard dodged without much effort and threw his own punch.

Thud!

“Ugh!”

This time, Doncard’s punch had real force behind it. Kaor staggered, blood spurting from his mouth as he fell backward, dazed.

‘Am I really this weak?’ he thought, the shame hitting him harder than the pain.

‘I should have trained harder...’

He thought he’d absorbed everything Ghislain had taught him, but in this fight, none of it was coming to mind. He’d reverted to his old, sloppy habits—attacks he’d picked up randomly over time.

‘I’m just a big fish in a small pond, only strong against weaklings, aren’t I?’

Looking back, he realized that the only reason he’d been able to win before was that he had been slightly stronger than his opponents. That small advantage had given him enough leeway to use what Ghislain had taught him. But now, facing an opponent with more experience, he couldn’t recall a single lesson.

‘I’ve always been like this...’

Kaor lamented. He’d never put in the work he needed, always settling for “good enough.” He’d been lazy, unwilling to endure repetitive practice. And that neglect, compounded over time, had led to this moment of disgrace.

‘The lord was right.’

Ghislain had urged him to throw himself into life-or-death battles to improve. Kaor realized now that, without that pressure, he would never have pushed himself to train.

With a sigh of regret, Kaor barely steadied himself as Doncard closed in on him.

“Time to die, you bastard.”

Doncard bared his yellowed teeth, pulling back for another punch—this time to finish the fight. Just then, Kaor heard Ghislain’s voice, calm and steady, in his ear.

“Step one pace to the right.”

Kaor’s body reacted instinctively to Ghislain’s command, a reflex drilled in from his intense training.

Swish.

“What the—?”

Doncard’s punch missed, and Kaor seized the opportunity, driving a punch into Doncard’s side.

Thud!

“Gah!”

Doncard stumbled, stepping back in shock. Kaor glanced toward Ghislain, shouting defiantly.

“Don’t interfere! I’ll take care of this myself!”

The crowd looked at Kaor, confused. Ghislain hadn’t even moved, so Kaor seemed to be yelling at no one. Unbeknownst to them, Ghislain was using a high-level mana technique to send his voice directly to Kaor. Only someone with Ghislain’s skill in mana manipulation could pull off such a feat.

Ignoring the crowd’s puzzled looks, Ghislain continued his guidance.

“Get your head in the game. You’ve got the skill and know the technique to beat him. It’s just not ingrained enough yet, and your impatience is holding you back. This fight will be your training. And if you refuse, I’ll see to it that you get ‘special training’ alone afterward.”

“Tch! I said I’d handle it myself...” Kaor growled.

“Take one step back,” Ghislain instructed, unfazed.

Kaor, irritated but compelled, moved reflexively. Doncard’s punch missed him again. This time, Kaor managed a counter, though Doncard dodged.

“Close the gap.”

Kaor pushed forward, advancing on Doncard. Before he could throw a punch, Ghislain’s voice directed him once more.

“Half-step to the left.”

Kaor’s body shifted, his movements drawing Doncard’s gaze instinctively.

“Strike.”

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Even though they were fighting hand-to-hand, Kaor followed the form of his sword techniques, adjusting them for bare-knuckle combat. He thrust his fist forward as if wielding a blade.

Thud!

Blood sprayed as Doncard’s nose broke, his head snapping back.