The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 747: Incredible, Truly Incredible (1)

BOOM! BOOM! BOOOOOM!

“KRAAAAGH!”

The orc formation was collapsing rapidly.

At the vanguard, Iralniel tore through the orcs without hesitation, with the elven elders following close behind.

Their morale soaring, the elves surged forward like a raging tide. The orcs had no way to withstand it.

In terror and confusion, they were cut down without even putting up proper resistance.

From afar, Rahamod and Munareff were watching the scene unfold.

“...Prophet. What should we do now?”

“......”

Even at Munareff’s question, Rahamod kept his eyes fixed on the battlefield.

His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts.

‘I’m not sure if this was the right choice.’

A pang of regret surged through him. To retreat just before realizing the church’s long-cherished wish—it was an agony he could barely endure.

So he kept watching. To see whether there was still a chance to kill Iralniel.

Iralniel was displaying just as much power as Rahamod had predicted. It was hard to tell whether she was bluffing or not.

‘Just a bit more...’

She had already expended a considerable amount of energy. If even he had to block such an attack and suffered equally grave wounds, he wouldn’t be able to fight properly either.

But that overwhelming divine energy was still concerning. The darkness he left behind might have already dissipated before draining her strength.

If she wasn’t bluffing, then neither he nor Munareff could withstand a coordinated assault from Iralniel and the elders.

To confirm that, Rahamod continued observing her closely.

BOOOOOOOM!

Iralniel still looked perfectly fine. She moved like the wind, sweeping away the orc horde with ease.

Even the orcs knew how dangerous she was.

Eventually, the orcs’ High Chieftain, Grakkash, entered the fray.

“KRAAAAAAGH!”

The biggest and strongest among the orcs.

Grakkash was a beast who had awakened his feral power through countless slaughters.

The scars etched across his red skin like tattoos made his savagery plain.

THUD! THUD! THUD!

Grakkash roared with fury and charged straight at Iralniel.

The force from his massive frame looked as though it could bring down a mountain.

Bulging muscles rippled under his crimson skin. In his hand, he gripped a colossal axe easily capable of tearing two men in half.

Every stomp of Grakkash’s feet shook the ground.

“KRAAAAAAGH!”

Leaping like a wild beast, Grakkash swung his axe.

BOOM! 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

The earth cracked with the tremendous impact. But Iralniel had already slipped out of its path.

Without hesitation, Grakkash swung his axe again.

WHOOOOOSH!

Another miss. His axe couldn’t catch up with Iralniel, who moved like a feather.

“KRAAAAAGH!”

Enraged, Grakkash threw his entire strength into the next blow. Even a superhuman would be split in half if struck directly.

BOOOOOOM!

Nearby trees were uprooted, and clouds of dust surged like a storm.

GRRRRR...

Realizing that his attack had failed again, Grakkash, driven by instinct, raised his axe for another strike.

But Iralniel didn’t miss that fleeting opening.

Snap!

She reached out and placed her hand on Grakkash’s face.

Her delicate hand couldn’t even cover half his massive face. And yet, even that small touch was enough to freeze him.

He glared at her with bloodshot eyes but didn’t dare move.

“Grrrrrr...”

As he exhaled roughly, Iralniel spoke.

“It’s not because we were weak that we let you be.”

“KRAAAAAAGH!”

The moment Grakkash roared and raised his arm again—

Radiant light exploded from Iralniel’s palm.

BOOOOOOM!

With a thunderous blast, Grakkash’s head turned to dust and vanished. His now-headless body slumped to the ground.

THUUUUD!

Iralniel’s gaze had already shifted far beyond the corpse.

Watching the battle, Rahamod let out a faint sigh.

‘I must let go of this regret.’

It was clear Iralniel still had strength left to fight. Wearing a bitter expression, Rahamod steeled himself.

‘There are still other chances.’

There was no use clinging to something already lost. Even if he did kill Iralniel here, he wouldn’t make it out alive.

In the end, Rahamod abandoned the idea of continuing the fight and turned away.

“Let’s go.”

“Back to the sanctuary?”

“No. We’ve failed—going there now would be disgraceful.”

“Then where are we going?”

“Word will spread across the continent that we made a move. Before they prepare, I’ll assist another prophet’s mission.”

Munareff nodded. Once word got out, their tricks would no longer work.

Before that, it was better to help complete the operations still in motion.

Without further hesitation or regret, Rahamod and Munareff left.

There was no one left to aid the orcs. Not a single one escaped. They were completely annihilated.

Grrrk...

Osvald, watching the last orc fall, shouted with joy.

“WOOAAAAAAAH! We won!”

“The demon bastard ran away too!”

“YEEAAAAAH! Victory!”

The other mercenaries cheered at the top of their lungs.

They genuinely felt like they had survived death. That was how terrifying Rahamod’s power had been.

Unlike the jubilant humans, the elves wore only sorrowful expressions. They had lost too many of their kin in this battle.

Still, everyone was relieved. Had things gone wrong, they all could have been wiped out here.

Suppressing the blood rising in her throat, Iralniel opened her mouth.

“...You’ve all done well.”

The elders and elves bowed their heads slightly. So did the humans. No one was an exception.

It was a gesture of respect toward the great elf who had repelled such overwhelming danger.

Iralniel also bowed her head slightly. A word of gratitude to the warriors who stood with her against the darkness.

Victory didn’t mean the end. The forest needed to be tended to again.

“Move the wounded. Those who can still walk, help care for the others.”

At Iralniel’s command, the elves sprang into action with perfect coordination.

The Julien Mercenary Corps ran to Ghislain first. All of them wore worried expressions as they shouted.

“Deputy commander!”

“He’s dead, right? He has to [N O V E L I G H T] be.”

“I mean, even if he’s a monster, taking that kind of beating should kill him. It’s just the natural order of things.”

Unfortunately (?)—Ghislain was not dead. He was being carried on a stretcher, receiving healing from the elven elders.

Julien rushed over.

“Ghislain! Are you okay?”

“Ah... yeah. I’m fine. What about Deneb?”

“She’s okay too. She passed out from overexertion, that’s all. The elves are tending to her right now.”

“That’s... good. We’ll ask what happened when she wakes up.”

A pleased smile spread across Ghislain’s face.

Whether Deneb had awakened or not, he didn’t know. But thanks to her, Iralniel had recovered, and Rahamod had been forced to retreat.

It was truly a miraculous turn of events.

‘Now that’s a Saintess.’

At this point, she deserved the title. And there were plenty of witnesses.

Of course, she still had many shortcomings. Ghislain had seen in dreams again and again just how extraordinary Deneb truly was.

So he needed to investigate her connection with the Sacred Stone as well.

As he lay near death but still smiling, Kyle spoke to him.

“I’ve never seen you get wrecked this badly. Those enemies must’ve been really strong.”

Osvald jumped in from the side.

“The great Osvald! I’ve never seen the boss lose before!”

‘If we fought now, I could probably win.’

The sly thought crept into Osvald’s mind, but he didn’t dare show it. Julien and Kyle were still perfectly fine.

At Osvald’s words, Ghislain looked at him with an incredulous expression.

“What? Who lost? Didn’t you see them all running away? If they ran, then I won.”

“......”

“I mean, I was already exhausted when I fought them. I’ve never lost in a one-on-one.”

“...Right.”

Osvald looked mildly exasperated. Even while half-dead, he was still confidently spouting nonsense.

Maybe it was the lukewarm reaction, but Ghislain reached for a stick lying next to him on the stretcher. However, he didn’t have the strength to lift it, and his arm just trembled weakly while holding it.

“Damn it!”

Eventually, Ghislain gave up and lay back down. It hurt his pride, but there was nothing he could do right now.

Julien and Kyle shook their heads with small chuckles.

That competitive streak was something they had to acknowledge. He acted like honor meant nothing in most matters, but when it came to losing a fight, he absolutely loathed it.

Noticing their reactions, Ghislain closed his eyes and murmured:

“It’s not just that I hate losing. When I lose... a lot of people die.”

Of course, Ghislain had lost before. As a rookie mercenary, he lost often, ran away a lot too.

But after returning, he had become someone who couldn’t afford to lose.

He had far too much to protect now.

Not that he didn’t hate losing just for the sake of it too.

‘If it’s one-on-one, I win them all.’

That belief had never changed—from the moment he became the Mercenary King, after he regressed, and even now, after being hurled into the past.

His friends, unaware of all this, simply thought he was being prideful and gave small shrugs and grins.

While the battlefield was being cleared, a commotion suddenly broke out to one side.

“High Chief!”

Iralniel had suddenly collapsed, coughing up blood.

Ereneth caught her and screamed.

The elven elders rushed to her, pouring their energy into her body. They didn’t know what was happening—only that they had to heal her.

Iralniel shook her head.

“It’s fine. It’s not an injury, don’t waste your strength.”

“W-What happened?”

At an elder’s question, Iralniel replied with a fatigued expression.

“Rahamod was watching. I pushed myself a bit too far.”

Only then did the elves understand what condition she was in.

The face of the one who had seemed to possess eternal youth now bore faint wrinkles.

Iralniel had drawn on her very life force to appear unbroken.

“......”

The elves could only hold back tears. None of them could speak.

Life force, once used, cannot be recovered. It’s like a candle burning its own wick to sustain the flame.

In other words, Iralniel had permanently lost a portion of her power—and shortened her lifespan.

She had burned her life without hesitation to protect the elves.

Seeing their downcast faces, Iralniel smiled gently.

“I’ve lived long enough. And it’s not like I’ll die immediately, so don’t worry too much.”

“High Chief...”

“Go tend to the others. I don’t need treatment.”

At her command, the elves quietly wiped their eyes and nodded.

Iralniel steadied herself and looked around.

She didn’t care about her reduced lifespan. What broke her heart far more was how many elves had died.

But what weighed even more heavily was the fact that the real war was only just beginning.

‘The Salvation Order...’

They had begun to move. The battles to come would be nothing like this one.

More lives would be lost, and even deeper wounds would be left behind.

Thinking about that bleak future made her chest ache.

At that moment, her thoughts turned to the humans who had joined the fight.

‘Those humans came by order of the Pope.’

During the search for intruders, she had received a report from Sylan, the diplomatic officer, that individuals claiming to have come under the Pope’s orders had arrived.

Given that, it wasn’t hard to deduce that the ones who helped the elves now were those very same humans Sylan had spoken of.

‘They asked to borrow a Blessing Stone, didn’t they?’

Normally, she would never even meet with people who came with such a request.

But they had saved the elves. She decided to at least hear them out.

She didn’t yet know who the leader among the humans was. Once the fallen priest and the dark mage recovered, she planned to speak with them first—they had contributed the most in this battle.

‘And I’ll need to ask why there’s a dark mage among them.’

That part baffled her most of all. A dark mage, working under the Pope’s orders? It was a mismatch on every level.

Iralniel scanned the area. The humans were scattered about, working in pairs or trios to assist the elves.

But one man stood out.

‘...Hm?’

A knight in armor was kneeling, staring blankly into the air.

Unlike the others, he wasn’t helping tend the wounded or clean up the battlefield.

He looked utterly... vacant.

‘That child’s name was... Lionel, I think.’

She had overheard the others calling him by name. He had been actively involved in healing as well.

Judging by his ability to wield divine power, he was likely a paladin of the Church.

Which meant he was probably one of those who had received the Pope’s orders directly.

Curious, Iralniel approached him and asked,

“Is something wrong? If you’re unwell, I can help.”

Lionel slowly turned his head with a blank expression.

After staring at Iralniel for a moment, he spoke in a trembling voice.

“M-My divine power...”

“What about your divine power?”

His lips quivered as he whispered, as if confessing a terrible shame.

“It’s... completely gone.”

Iralniel’s eyes widened.