The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 445: I’m the Expert Negotiator (2)

When someone gets involved with Ghislain, whether for better or worse, they inevitably change.

Take Gillian, for example. Once a rugged mercenary, he transformed into a loyal knight after his daughter’s illness was cured thanks to Ghislain. Kaor, once a wild and unrestrained mad dog, became a disciplined hunting hound on a leash. Even timid Vanessa found newfound confidence, while Alfoy and the mages, who once prided themselves on cleanliness and superiority, no longer cared about their disheveled appearances.

Arel, known for his relentless dedication, also changed after coming to Fenris.

Everyone—mercenary knights, elves, dwarves—gradually adapted after spending time in Fenris under Ghislain’s leadership.

However, Piote’s transformation was perhaps the most dramatic of all.

"Did I just curse?!"

Piote was in shock. He had never uttered such explicit profanities in his life. Sure, he’d occasionally thought of Alfoy as "this jerk" or "that bastard," but to curse so blatantly was unprecedented.

"Goddess, forgive me for my sins! I’ve succumbed to profanity!"

Closing his eyes tightly, Piote clasped his hands together in prayer. He was convinced that a demon had infiltrated his heart.

The soldiers observing him erupted into cheers.

“Saint Piote is receiving the goddess’s power!”

“Is this a prayer before annihilating the enemy?”

“It must be some kind of ritual to send them to the afterlife!”

"That’s not it!" Piote screamed internally, unable to concentrate on his prayer due to their ridiculous chatter.

Resigned, he opened his eyes and pursed his lips.

"This is Fenris. Everyone changes here. I just have to adapt like the rest."

In truth, there was one person who hadn’t changed: Claude, the overseer of Fenris territory, renowned for his unwavering composure.

Regardless, under Ghislain’s new strategy, Piote was now designated as the vanguard in the battle against Equidema.

The colossal creature, known for its hatred of divine energy, lunged directly at Piote the moment it sensed his holy power.

Tenant, who instinctively flinched, was stopped by Alfoy’s smug remark.

“Oh, where do you think you’re going, mere human? Leave divine battles to someone of my caliber, at least.”

“....”

Tenant, who had little love for Alfoy, bit his tongue and stepped back, knowing he was an outsider in Fenris.

Thud!

Equidema’s attack landed, but Piote remained unscathed. Seizing the opportunity, Piote grabbed one of the beast’s legs and began climbing.

"How did it come to this...?" he lamented inwardly, grinding his teeth.

Since the last battle, Ghislain had insisted on personally training Piote in close combat. With his abundant holy power, Piote’s physical strength and speed had been enhanced to unnatural levels.

Through rigorous, almost hellish training, Piote’s demeanor had sharpened. Whether he wanted it or not, he had become a battle-ready priest befitting Fenris.

With a roar, Piote scaled Equidema and swung his fist with all his might.

Bam! Bam! Bam!

The creature howled in pain as Piote’s fists, brimming with holy energy, seared its flesh.

“Oh, the Holy Punch!” Alfoy exclaimed in amazement, suddenly reconsidering his penchant for provoking Piote.

Equidema, desperate to shake off the "cursed insect" clinging to its neck, flailed wildly. However, it couldn’t dislodge Piote, who clung stubbornly to its massive frame.

Seeing Piote firmly in place, Ghislain bellowed, “Distract it! Keep it off balance!”

The soldiers and mages surrounding the beast launched relentless attacks. As blows landed across its body, its tough hide began to crack, emitting bursts of blue smoke.

Equidema was overwhelmed. The creature couldn’t comprehend why the pest on its neck wouldn’t die, nor could it evade the continuous assaults from the others.

Bleeding profusely and battered, Equidema faltered.

“Now!” Ghislain shouted.

Vanessa, panting from exertion, flung Piote into the air.

With precision, Belinda extended a rope, pulling Piote to safety.

Ghislain didn’t waste the opening. Launching himself high into the air, he unleashed a devastating blow, piercing the beast’s weakened neck.

The massive creature let out one final gurgle before collapsing.

For a moment, silence fell over the battlefield as the soldiers stared in disbelief. They had defeated the seemingly invincible monster with astonishing ease.

Of course, they had exploited its unique weaknesses, coupled with their wealth of experience and the assembly of Fenris’s strongest warriors. Even so, the speed and efficiency of the victory were remarkable.

“Woooooo!”

“We won again!”

“These bastards aren’t so scary after all!”

The soldiers and knights, emboldened by their success, erupted into cheers. Morale in the northern army had never been higher.

The once-dreaded Rifts were no longer a source of terror. With each victory, fear diminished, replaced by unshakable confidence.

Watching the celebrations, Ghislain allowed himself a wry smile.

"If it were only this easy back then, we wouldn’t have suffered so much."

He knew greater challenges awaited. Stronger monsters, the priests of the Salvation Order, and the corrupt nobles aligned with them still posed a formidable threat.

For now, though, Ghislain kept these thoughts to himself. Maintaining high morale was essential.

“Move out! We need to eliminate the remaining Rifts in the kingdom as quickly as possible.”

Bolstered by their success, the northern army rapidly dealt with the remaining Rifts in the western region. The swift defeats of monsters like Equidema allowed them to expedite the cleanup.

As they moved, Ghislain had mages establish mana-blocking fields around the cleared Rifts.

“Be thorough. The more we delay their growth, the more time we buy ourselves.”

The mages spared no effort or runestones in following Ghislain’s orders. By cutting off the ambient mana that fed the Rifts, their expansion slowed considerably.

“We’re heading east next. There are fewer Rifts there, so it should be easier than before.”

Hearing this, the northern army marched with renewed vigor. They feared nothing now.

Ghislain, however, suspected there was a reason the eastern region had fewer Rifts. The area was under the influence of Marquis Branford, but it was also likely that the ducal faction had deliberately reduced Rift activity there to prioritize their advance toward the capital.

Upon reaching the eastern territories, the local soldiers, weary from battling the Rifts, greeted the northern army with joyous cheers.

“The northern army is here!”

“Count Fenris has arrived!”

“It’s over! We’re saved!”

Their relief was palpable. For those struggling against the Rifts, the arrival of Fenris was nothing short of a miracle.

Dominic, deputy commander of the Fenris Mercenary Corps, greeted Ghislain warmly.

“Welcome, my lord!”

The Fenris Mercenary Corps had grown to a staggering 30,000 members. By now, it was safe to say that most notable mercenaries had joined their ranks.

This success was the result of relentless recruitment efforts, which had drawn fighters from across the kingdom and even other nations.

“Dominic, you’ve done well holding the line.”

“It was nothing, my lord. We’ve managed to keep the Riftspawn numbers in check. With 10,000 of our mercenaries stationed here, it wasn’t too difficult.”

Dominic chuckled confidently. Freed from his vendetta against Marquis Rodrick, he had embraced his role with enthusiasm, leading the mercenaries to numerous victories.

Currently, 10,000 mercenaries under Dominic’s command were supporting the defense against the Rifts, while the rest were spread across the kingdom, aiding in reconstruction and other efforts. The influence of Fenris now extended throughout the entire kingdom.

“We’re continuing to recruit mercenaries, even from other nations,” Dominic reported.

“Good. Just as expected.”

Ghislain had anticipated this. By offering generous benefits and ensuring the safety of his mercenaries, Fenris had built a reputation that attracted fighters from far and wide.

“Keep recruiting. Numbers are important right now. Accept everyone who comes, the more, the better. If you need anything, contact Claude.”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Select personnel to send to other kingdoms as well. I’ve got plans in mind, and news should come soon.”

“Yes, my lord!”

“Then let’s move out.”

The goal of every army dealing with the Rifts wasn’t necessarily to close them but to eliminate creatures like Equidema. Since the Rifts couldn’t be sealed immediately, their expansion had to be halted.

Among these armies, the northern forces had become the ultimate predators of Equidema—relentless and merciless hunters.

Roar!

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One by one, the Equidemas in the eastern regions began to fall. The armies of local lords, previously overwhelmed, breathed a collective sigh of relief, their morale soaring.

Soldiers in the East, who had only heard of Fenris’s reputation, were awestruck witnessing Ghislain’s actions firsthand.

“So this is the might of the North...”

“They call him a Master for a reason. Truly remarkable.”

“They’ve cleared the Rifts we could barely hold back in no time.”

Praises for Ghislain and his northern forces echoed throughout the ranks. The stark contrast in skill and power was undeniable.

However, the reactions of the lords and nobles were far more complicated.

“This is dangerous. The people’s loyalty is shifting entirely to Fenris.”

“If he harbors any ambitions, the kingdom itself could be at risk.”

“Should we align with Fenris while there’s still time?”

They were consumed by conflicting emotions. A few years ago, Ghislain had been a mere upstart barely worth their attention. Now, his reputation was impossible to ignore.

And his power? Considering his track record, even the combined strength of the remaining kingdom’s forces might struggle to match him.

Their only advantage lay in numbers, but even that seemed insufficient when the northern army routinely handled greater threats, like the Rift creatures, with ease.

The growing reputation of the northern forces spawned a chilling rumor:

"The Northern Army is a host of monsters in human form."

To make matters worse, whispers circulated that the Count of Fenris might soon be elevated to the rank of Duke. The once-dismissed upstart had become an unshakable force, leaving the lords in a bitter quandary.

Ghislain, however, paid no attention to such rumors. His mind was occupied with the strategic planning required to handle the remaining Rifts.

“They should’ve made their move by now, but they haven’t. Is something wrong?”

Although there were reports that the ducal faction was addressing the Rifts in their territory, the lack of detailed updates was troubling. The southern regions were virtually sealed off, with even neutral figures like Count Mowbray unable to act freely.

“At least I’m seeing things I didn’t in my past life.”

The fact that the ducal faction was actively handling the southern Rifts suggested either an inability to control them or unexpected complications in doing so.

From the moment Ghislain learned of the Salvation Order’s involvement, he had begun to question the ducal faction’s motives. Even after cross-referencing his knowledge from his previous life, he couldn’t piece together the full picture.

“The ducal faction, the kingdom’s rebellion, the Forest of Beasts, the Salvation Order, the Rifts...”

Unrelated as these elements seemed, they were clearly connected by something hidden. Ghislain couldn’t yet identify the missing link.

As he mulled over his thoughts, a royal knight arrived to deliver a summons.

“Marquis Branford, the Royal Chamberlain, requests your presence, Commander of the Northern Army.”

“What’s this about?”

“Delegations from various kingdoms have arrived.”

Ghislain nodded. The preparations he had tasked Claude with seemed to have progressed faster than expected. In just two months, they had successfully convened delegations from multiple kingdoms.

He asked for clarification.

“Do you know the purpose of their visit?”

“They intend to form a coalition army. It seems the details require negotiation.”

“Of course.”

In his previous life, a coalition army had also been formed, though it had been led by a different kingdom. This time, Ghislain had taken the initiative to make it happen first.

“Alright, let’s head out.”

Even if Ghislain hadn’t spearheaded the effort, Marquis Branford would have had no choice but to summon him. Ghislain was the foremost expert in dealing with the Rifts and commanded the kingdom’s most formidable army.

Moreover, Ghislain’s unparalleled preparation and knowledge had enabled Fenris and the Kingdom of Rutania to mitigate their losses far more effectively than any other kingdom.

No one else was better suited to lead the coalition.

More importantly, Ghislain himself had no intention of sitting this one out.

“I’m the expert negotiator, after all.”