The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 741: Let’s Show Them (1)

After Ghislain entered the forest, the rest of the group remained on alert, tension high. They had to be ready to move the moment he made contact.

During that time, Lionel hurled threats at them daily.

“You scum! You really think you’ll get away with this?!”

“......”

“I swear, I’ll hold every one of you accountable!”

“......”

“I’ll dig up not only this heresy, but every sin you’ve committed in the past!”

“......”

“You dare mock the Empire’s authority?! Once word spreads, you’ll have no place to stand on this continent!”

“......”

Everyone listened with expressions that ranged from indifferent to bored.

Some of the mercenaries had been intimidated at first. After all, Lionel was a knight of the Empire.

But threats repeated often enough eventually lost their impact. Now, the whole group just mentally sighed—“Here we go again.”

Lionel, for his part, couldn’t comprehend their attitude.

“You fools! Are you not afraid of the Empire’s might?! You really think that lunatic will succeed?!”

His voice rose to a shrill pitch, veins bulging from his neck. Kyle grimaced and picked at his ear.

“Ugh, so damn loud. Is it because you’re a knight? Your lungs are annoying as hell.”

“You insolent wretch! If this operation fails, you’re already dead men! No—even if it succeeds, I won’t let this slide!”

“Man, you never get tired of threatening us, huh? Hey, Sir Knight. I bet you’ve never met people this unreasonable, have you?”

“......”

Lionel bit his lip hard. He honestly couldn’t understand why these mercenaries weren’t afraid.

No matter how famous or strong a mercenary company might be, they were nothing compared to the power of the Empire. And someone like him should’ve been more than enough to intimidate them.

Kyle, as if reading Lionel’s thoughts, leaned in with a crooked grin.

“You kind of remind me of those local punks who act tough ‘cause they can spit far. Sure, those guys are scary.”

“......What are you talking about?”

“But you know what’s scarier than a guy who spits?”

“......”

“A guy who drools.”

“......”

“Because you can never tell what someone like that will do.”

“......”

“That’s what Ghislain is to us. We’re scared of him ‘cause we don’t know what he’s going to do. But you guys? You’re easy to read.”

“......”

The mercenaries all nodded in agreement. Ghislain’s most terrifying trait was his unpredictability.

Deneb gave an awkward laugh.

“Kyle, that comparison is a little off.”

“What? I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?”

Deneb didn’t know what to say. It sounded wrong, but... maybe it wasn’t?

She decided to try and calm Lionel down.

“I know Ghislain’s actions seem extreme, but he always has a reason. I’m sure this time will turn out well too.”

“A mere junior priestess, speaking so presumptuously—how dare you!”

“I-I just...”

“You think you’ll escape judgment? I held back because you’re clergy, but you clearly don’t know your place. You’ve brought disgrace to the Church, and you will be punished. I’ll personally see to your inquisition. As of this moment, consider yourself excommunicated!”

Among the group, Deneb was the only one Lionel could pressure using rank.

Her face turned pale at his threat.

An excommunicated priestess subjected to inquisition faced punishment far harsher than any outsider. According to doctrine, betrayal by one who served God warranted the severest penance.

What hurt even more was how abrupt it was. For a devout priestess like Deneb, excommunication was the greatest punishment of all.

“W-wait! I—”

“Silence! As soon as I return, I’ll begin the process. And then—”

Lionel’s petulant tirade came to an abrupt halt.

Julien had drawn his sword.

His voice was cold and razor-sharp.

“Say one more word, and I’ll sever your neck myself.”

The mercenaries swallowed nervously.

Julien was usually kind and soft-spoken, but anyone who dared touch Deneb was never forgiven.

Even the roughest mercenaries wouldn’t mess with her—because Julien wouldn’t tolerate it.

Lionel twisted his lips into a sneer.

“Fine. That lunatic mercenary’s going to ruin everything anyway. Might as well settle this now.”

He, too, drew his sword. The mercenaries began to reach for their weapons, but Julien raised a hand to stop them.

“I’ll face him alone.”

Lionel’s expression twisted.

“You insolent mongrel. You dare, a mere mercenary—”

Both men stepped forward, glaring into each other’s eyes.

Before they could close the distance, Deneb rushed between them.

She looked up at Julien with pleading eyes.

“Don’t.”

“Move.”

“Please, don’t. We can’t fight among ourselves. I know this is a misunderstanding. Just give it time—we’ll clear it up.”

Julien clenched his teeth but said nothing. He continued to stare at Lionel with icy silence.

Lionel glanced around and gripped his sword tighter.

“That Julien bastard isn’t weak. Neither is that Kyle one.”

His plan was to strike Julien quickly and then take out the rest of them in one explosive move.

Just as the situation reached the boiling point—

Dark, who had been perched on Kyle’s shoulder, suddenly shouted.

“Emergency! Emergency! You pathetic meatbags! Now is not the time! Save the fight for later—I’ll handle the judgment myself!”

Everyone’s attention snapped to Dark.

He flapped his wings urgently and barked,

“Check your gear and move out! Target is the forest’s center! °• N 𝑜 v 𝑒 l i g h t •° No elves will block you! Some of you—head to the city and tell the mayor to mobilize the troops!”

The Julien Mercenary Corps immediately grabbed their weapons and gear. No one asked questions—they just ran.

They all knew Dark would explain on the way.

But Lionel, as always, couldn’t keep up with the mercenary company’s pace. He stumbled after them, eyes wide, demanding answers.

“What is it?! What’s going on?!”

He panicked. He assumed Ghislain had been discovered and was now under attack.

Dark spread his wings wide and soared into the sky, yelling,

“It’s war! The Salvation Order bastards have brought orcs and dark mages! We’re fighting alongside the elves! This is our chance to raise the name of the Julien Mercenary Corps!”

“Pwahahaha!”

Kyle burst into laughter as he ran.

That’s Ghislain for you. Wherever he went, some absurdly wild event—be it fate or chance—was bound to follow.

The other mercenaries laughed as well. Their vice-captain seemed to attract disasters, one after another. With him around, they never had a dull day.

Only one person wasn’t laughing.

“War? Salvation Order? Orcs? What? Why?”

Lionel could only stumble after them, his expression vacant with confusion.

***

The trees ceased their whispering, and even the wind held its breath.

The sky was painted in shades of ash, and the dew on the tips of the leaves hung heavy—like a silent herald of the battlefield to come.

At the very heart of the forest stood a single towering tree, grander and fuller than any other. Beneath it, several elves clad in elegant garments were gathered.

“All who can fight are assembled.”

At the elder’s report, High Chief Iralniel gave a silent nod.

She said nothing for a long time. Her eyes were closed, simply listening—listening to what the forest had to say.

The ten elders wore solemn expressions. Even in their long lifetimes, never had the forest been in such peril.

Within the heavy silence, Iralniel slowly opened her eyes and turned her head.

Standing where her gaze landed was a young elf, visibly anxious.

“Ereneth. Did your human friend say he would buy us time?”

“...Yes.”

“That human was an intruder. You must have heard of the reports. So how did he become your friend?”

“W-we met by chance during a walk, and ended up fighting...”

Ereneth explained the circumstances with a trembling voice.

Once the story ended, Iralniel asked,

“He claimed to be the Chosen One? Did you truly believe that? Did it not occur to you that he might be lying to get the Blessing Stone?”

“I... I...”

Of course, Ereneth hadn’t believed him. But she couldn’t say that now—after all, it was her supposed belief that justified her actions in moving alongside the intruder.

So she shut her eyes tightly and cried out,

“I-I truly believed him! He was strong—so I trusted him! Isn’t it okay to trust someone?!”

For a moment, something like sorrow passed through Iralniel’s eyes.

She had already seen through the lie.

That Ereneth could lie so easily, even in front of her—the High Chief—brought a bitter weight to her chest.

“I can no longer suppress this child’s nature.”

She had always known Ereneth longed for the outside world. That’s why Iralniel had opposed letting her leave the forest.

Because Ereneth possessed the same desires and instincts as humans.

But now, it was clear that restraining her any further would only make things worse. Suppression would no longer work.

With a quiet sigh, Iralniel finally spoke.

“Very well. But forget what that human said. There is no ‘Chosen One.’ It was a lie to steal our Blessing Stone, sent under the Pope’s orders.”

“Yes, ma’am...”

“However, one thing he said was true.”

“What?”

Iralniel tilted her head slightly, gazing toward the northern sky.

“Thanks to that boy, we had time to prepare. If we had been taken by surprise, the damage would have been far greater.”

At those words, Ereneth’s face lit up.

“R-right? I told you he was strong! Then what happened to Astion?”

“I don’t know. He either escaped, or...”

Her words trailed off. He might have been captured and killed.

Understanding the implication, Ereneth cried out,

“Can’t we look for him? If he’s alive, Astion could be a huge help to us!”

But Iralniel shook her head.

“We cannot spare the effort to search for him.”

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

Far off, the sound of the forest collapsing rang out. The enemy’s vanguard was bulldozing a path through the trees.

The orc horde and dark mages had likely already entered the forest. The pace at which the forest was dying was accelerating.

“The forest... is dying.”

Iralniel’s expression hardened. She reached her hand toward the nearby trees, trying to feel the energy of the woods.

What came back was not serenity, but a jagged, resistant sensation. A jarring, foreign pain—a chaotic blend of agony.

It was clear the dark mages were actively corrupting the forest.

With a low voice, Iralniel murmured,

“We cannot retreat. This forest is our home—our heart.”

Here stood the World Tree. To abandon it would be to forsake the elven race itself.

Losing the World Tree was no different from extinction.

They had no choice but to resist.

“Let’s go. We cannot allow the enemy to reach this place.”

Her soft-spoken command spread throughout the forest like a ripple.

And then—from the deep woods—elves began to emerge, one by one.

They were not mere soldiers. They were those who read the forest’s paths, those who communed with nature, those who killed in silence.

All were hunters who had lived for centuries, wielders of spirit magic—sylvan guardians.

DOOM-DOOM-DOOM-DOOM-DOOM...

A great roar pulsed through the forest floor.

Massive roots erupted from the ground, and the Ents—forest guardians with colossal, ancient bodies—rose with weighty groans.

OOOOOOHH...

The spirits of old trees, guardians of the land who had slumbered for centuries, lifted their heads.

In their eyes burned a fury at the defilement of the forest, and a solemn resolve long bound to duty.

Every elf sprang into the trees. Their movements were like the wind, their footfalls no heavier than the forest’s breath.

FWOOOOSH...

Countless spirits soared alongside them—flames, winds, waves, and lightning trailing in their wake.

The enemy had come suddenly. There was no time for elaborate strategies.

But the rage of the forest would outmatch any strategy. Now was the time to show those who defied nature the consequences.

Without a word, the elves advanced.

And finally—at last—the enemy came into view like a tide crashing forward.

THUMP! THUMP! THUMP!

The entire land trembled.

As if the forest had stopped breathing, the thunder of hooves pounded closer with every second.

The ground shook endlessly, crushed beneath advancing weight.

KRAAAAAAAHH!

A frenzied howl tore through the forest from beyond.

The ten elders at the vanguard stood calm, their gazes locked beyond the trees.

The first figures to emerge were five priests.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

The energy they exuded toppled trees with each step.

Even ancient trees that had grown for hundreds of years collapsed helplessly before them.

A scar was carved into the natural world.

Behind that carnage surged a crimson wave.

KRAAAAAAAHH!

It was the orc horde. 𝗳𝗿𝐞𝕖𝘄𝗲𝕓𝗻𝚘𝚟𝕖𝐥.𝚌𝕠𝕞

Each orc rode upon a monstrous horned boar known as a Bruthur—gigantic beasts that trampled trees and tore through vines in a savage charge through the forest. Where they passed, trees fell, dirt flew, and beasts fled in panic.

Then came eight dark mages.

Curses poured from their fingertips, planting darkness into the soil.

The cries of the spirits carried on the wind. The forest began to wither and die.

And finally—

The two armies drew close enough to feel each other’s breath.

No words were needed. No diplomacy, no warnings.

Within it all, Iralniel closed her eyes.

“World Tree... protect us.”

KRAAAAAAAAAANG!

Like lightning—like a thunderclap—the first clash exploded.

The elven elders and the priests of the Salvation Order were the first to collide, head-on.