The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations-Chapter 759: Let’s Try That Too (3)

When Ghislain asked for Gramdir, the dwarf’s face turned ghostly pale.

And it wasn’t just the smug one who’d been talking earlier—every dwarf around, even the one collecting money, went white as a sheet.

The dwarf stammered, “Y-You can have it, sure. But... isn’t 100 gold better than that piece of scrap?”

“I want that sword.”

“It’s not good. It’s total junk. I’m just telling you because I feel guilty.”

“It’s fine. Just give it to me.”

“L-Look, how about 200 gold instead? Why don’t you take that and head off? I’m... not feeling well.”

Ghislain chuckled and extended his hand.

“No thanks. I’m taking the sword.”

Snap!

Threads of mana shot from Ghislain’s hand and yanked Gramdir toward him.

He turned the sword in his hand, inspecting it from every angle, then smiled with satisfaction.

“I love it. This is exactly the sword I wanted.”

He reached for the scabbard hanging nearby, slid the blade in—

Clack!

—and strapped it to his waist like it was already his.

The dwarf screamed and lunged at him.

“G-Give it back! Give me back my sword!”

“Whoa, what are you doing? It’s mine now. We’ve got plenty of witnesses. Everyone here saw it.”

“I’ll give you 500 gold! Please!”

“Nope.”

“1,000 gold! I don’t have it on me right now, but I, the great dwarf Torvalt, give you my word—I’ll get the money!”

“Nah, no need to go that far.”

Ghislain shook his head. He already had plenty of money—and more than enough ways to earn it.

After all, he owned a stake in the gold mines of the Raks Territory. A thousand gold was barely a drop in the bucket to him.

But this sword was different. You couldn’t buy it, not for a thousand gold or even ten thousand.

The onlookers started murmuring, feeling something was off.

“What’s going on? Wasn’t that just scrap metal?”

“It’s not an artifact. It doesn’t have any magical processing at all.”

“Then why’s he so desperate to get it back?”

Everyone had seen Torvalt’s behavior. This wasn’t how a proud dwarf was supposed to act.

That smug bastard had been full of himself just moments ago—and now he was begging for a single sword?

It didn’t make sense, but they had no way to explain it.

Finally, someone asked,

“What’s so special about that sword?”

“T-That... I can’t say! It just is! It’s important to me! It’s a sword with... a story!”

“Then you never should’ve put it up as a prize. You could’ve just taken people’s money and left it out.”

Torvalt had nothing to say.

The truth was, this was all because of his arrogance.

He’d been certain no one could solve the puzzle. He thought humans wouldn’t recognize the sword’s value anyway.

He couldn’t tell anyone the full story, but there was also a strange thrill in putting such a treasured item up as a prize. That sinful indulgence of a craftsman.

But then some freak showed up, smashed through the problem, and walked off with the sword. He couldn’t let that happen.

“No! Absolutely not!”

Torvalt dropped to the ground and clung to Ghislain’s pant leg.

Of course, that wouldn’t work on Ghislain. He easily shook him off and said,

“A promise is a promise. You should keep your word.”

“Grrrgh...! What... what the hell did you do?! Why didn’t it explode?!”

“Because I’m in good shape.”

“AAARGH! Stop saying nonsense!”

Torvalt thrashed wildly as Ghislain smirked.

Honestly, it was nothing special. Right before triggering the explosion, he’d inserted threads of mana and severed the internal circuits.

Hundreds of mana threads wrapped around the mechanism, disabled the pathways, and completely broke the structure—there was no way it could detonate after that.

Only Ghislain could’ve pulled off such a feat, which is why Torvalt was so utterly clueless.

As Ghislain turned to leave, Torvalt snapped out of it.

That sword was far too important. He couldn’t let it go.

If he could go back in time, he’d never have put it up as a prize. That damned pride...

He rushed in front of Ghislain, flailing,

“Wait! Let’s do it again!”

“...Do what?”

Torvalt suddenly scribbled furiously onto a sheet of paper.

This time, he poured all his dwarven knowledge into a puzzle that brute force couldn’t possibly solve. A fiendishly complex problem that required top-level engineering intellect.

Confidently, he handed the sheet to Ghislain and shouted,

“Let’s bet again! If you solve this, I’ll give you 1,000 more gold! But if you can’t—give me the sword back!”

“Hm...”

The crowd looked on with curious faces.

This was a problem the dwarf had created with serious intent. No ordinary person could possibly solve it.

Everyone was eager to see how Ghislain would approach this one.

Torvalt wore a smug expression.

‘This time, even his ridiculous trickery won’t work! Let him crumble before the wall of glorious dwarven intellect!’

Amid the thick tension, Ghislain slowly glanced at the paper.

Then—he casually tossed it behind him.

“Not doing it.”

“...What?”

“I said I’m not doing it.”

“Why?!”

“It’s hard. I don’t even understand what it says.”

“......”

Torvalt stared blankly, speechless.

Ghislain shrugged like what do you expect me to do and said,

“What, just because you said it’s a bet, I have to agree? I can just walk away.”

The crowd burst into quiet laughter and nods of agreement.

He wasn’t wrong. If someone didn’t want to make a bet, they could simply refuse.

Torvalt had never considered that. The realization hit him like a brick.

“You—You have to! Why not?! I said I’d give you another 1,000 gold! Don’t you have any pride?!”

“I already won. Why would my pride be hurt?”

“Grrgh! Do you even know who I am?!”

“Nope. Don’t care either.”

“......”

A perfect defeat. He couldn’t even win the argument.

Thud!

Torvalt collapsed to his knees, dazed. His eyes were blank, and drool dripped from his mouth.

Ghislain turned to the group, holding the sword up.

“Let’s go. We need a wash and some rest.”

Leaving the broken Torvalt behind, Ghislain walked off. The crowd erupted in cheers.

“YEAH! That was awesome!”

“Serves that smug dwarf right!”

“What a badass!”

From their perspective, it was deeply satisfying to see the arrogant dwarf get knocked down a peg.

As they walked away, Ghislain kept looking down at the sword in his hand, his eyes full of delight.

The others found it strange.

Ghislain had never shown this kind of desire for an object before.

Julien looked at him curiously and asked,

“Why’d you take the sword instead of the money? Is it really that good?”

“Oh yeah. This ~Nоvеl𝕚ght~ sword... this one’s incredible. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one better.”

“Really? Looks pretty plain to me.”

“It’s meteoric iron.”

Everyone’s eyes widened.

Meteoric iron—the purest form of steel, extractable only from fallen stars.

“That kind of iron is of a quality so high it can’t even be compared to any metal in this world. That’s why it’s sometimes called the divine metal, something only those chosen by the heavens may possess.

Though the quality differs slightly depending on the meteorite, the absolute quantity is so limited that minor differences don’t matter.

If a dwarf had forged that meteoric iron, it wouldn’t be an exaggeration to call it a legendary sword.

Kyle asked in disbelief from the side.

“But it’s all rusted. I heard meteoric iron doesn’t rust or corrode.”

“Meteoric iron doesn’t never rust... but this rust is definitely fake.”

“Fake?”

“Yeah. I don’t know why they did it this way. Maybe the dwarf was trying to pull some kind of prank.”

“Then how did Ghislain recognize it?”

“Back in the day... a friend of mine used a sword like this.”

Ghislain glanced at Julien with a small smile.

In his past life, Julien—leader of the human alliance—had wielded a similar blade. Whether it was a treasure of the Turian royal family or something he’d gotten elsewhere, Ghislain didn’t know. The Julien of the future wasn’t much of a talker.

But he remembered how amazing that sword had been. Even someone like him, who rarely desired material things, had wanted it.

Ghislain looked around at everyone and said,

“I’ll show you this sword’s true form.”

“Its true form?”

“Yeah. Watch closely.”

Shrring.

Ghislain drew the blade and infused it with mana.

Wooooong...

With a resonant hum, the rust stuck to the blade began to flake off and fall away.

And beneath it was revealed—

A black so deep it looked as if even light hesitated to touch it.

Gramdir’s blade was dark and smooth, but on its surface faint patterns shimmered and moved like waves—like stars drifting through the vastness of space.

And all he had done was gently breathe mana into it. As he did, the entire sword pulsed gently, sending out a low vibration.

Everyone watching instinctively held their breath.

“W-What the hell...”

“It really changed like that?”

“Is it enchanted or something?”

It looked completely different from when it held no mana.

Staring at it gave the illusion that centuries of time were flowing through the sword.

Light refracted and scattered the instant it touched the blade. It no longer looked like metal—it looked like a fragment carved from the universe itself.

In that state, Ghislain lightly slashed through the air.

PAAAK!

A strange energy distorted the air so sharply that everyone flinched.

A breeze like a blade brushing against their skin. Pressure that pierced deep into the chest.

He had only sliced the air once, but it made everyone feel like they had been cut. As if the boundary between reality and unreality had vanished.

Of course, this wasn’t an ability of the sword. It was more accurate to say the sword perfectly responded to Ghislain’s overwhelming power.

Saaaaa...

When Ghislain withdrew his mana, the sword returned to its original state. To someone who didn’t know better, it looked utterly ordinary—something you wouldn’t even glance at.

Ghislain gave the sword a small swing and grinned.

“What do you think? Amazing, huh?”

“Wow...”

Everyone stood with mouths agape, stunned. The sword Ghislain had shown them just briefly was that beautiful—and that overwhelming.

Ghislain continued his explanation.

“Of course, it’s not like just pouring mana into it will make this happen. You have to become one with the sword and control its flow.”

Ghislain, who could manipulate willpower itself, could even awaken the will of tools. More precisely, the tool responded to Ghislain’s will and synchronized with his intention.

But for those who hadn’t reached that level, none of it made sense.

Osvald scratched his head and asked, 𝐟𝗿𝐞𝚎𝚠𝐞𝚋𝕟𝐨𝚟𝐞𝕝.𝕔𝕠𝚖

“What does that mean? Are you saying that if someone else uses it, it won’t look like what you just showed us? It’s just a sword—how can it change?”

Ghislain handed the sword to Osvald.

“Try putting mana into it.”

Osvald grinned foolishly and poured in as much mana as he could.

The sword gave off a faint resonance again—but nothing like what Ghislain had shown.

At best, it was just a bit sharper and more charged with energy, like any other decent sword.

“Eh... what the heck? It’s just a normal sword.”

Osvald asked, disappointed. Ghislain shrugged.

“You didn’t become one with it.”

“What? I’m a person—how do I become one with a sword? What, am I a chimera? Do I chop off an arm and glue the sword on?”

“......”

The brutally literal and logical question left Ghislain momentarily speechless.

The others clearly didn’t get it either.

Ghislain opened his mouth as if to explain further, but then shook his head. This was something you had to experience and realize for yourself.

After taking the sword back, Ghislain looked at Julien and asked,

“Want it?”

“...For me?”

“Yeah. I ‘reeeeally’ want this sword, but if you want it, I’ll give it to you.”

“...No.”

Julien shook his head. As someone who wielded a sword, it wasn’t like he didn’t want it.

But if he thought about it, Ghislain had always been the one giving. He didn’t want to be the one receiving the first thing Ghislain ever truly desired.

Besides, only Ghislain could truly awaken that sword’s power.

Ghislain asked again, just to confirm.

“So I’m the one using it?”

“Yeah. That’s how it should be.”

“Hm.”

Ghislain had been willing to give it up, even if reluctantly, if Julien wanted it. Sure, it’d be convenient for him to use, but Ghislain had long since transcended the need for tools.

Still, he understood Julien’s heart behind the refusal—and decided to respect it.

Then, turning slightly, he caught Kyle eyeing the sword, practically drooling.

Ghislain spoke to him.

“Hey, wipe your drool...”

“I’ll take it!”

“......”

“Gimme!”

“......”

It was so blatant that Ghislain had to give a clear response.

“I’m using it for now.”

“Tch.”

Kyle pouted and stuck out his lip.

And it wasn’t just Kyle. Even Lionel was staring at the sword with eyes full of burning desire.

So were the mercenaries. If it hadn’t been Ghislain, someone might have already tried to snatch it by now.

They might not have known before—but once they saw the sword’s true form, they all wanted it.

Ghislain clicked his tongue and shook his head.

“This is why treasures start fights.”

It made Julien’s earlier refusal all the more impressive. Truly worthy of being a future hero.

Ghislain placed Gramdir into his subspace. He planned to keep it there for now and only take it out when needed.

It wasn’t just for the group’s sake.

‘They’re not going to give up that easily.’

Torvalt and his dwarf companions, who had lost the sword, were now lurking in the shadows, watching and waiting for a chance.

Ghislain booked a large, luxurious inn. It was a trade-heavy city, so there were plenty of accommodations.

The mercenaries rested while Ghislain and the core group washed up, changed clothes, and immediately went to meet the city’s mayor.

It wasn’t difficult to secure a meeting. They were no longer dressed like beggars, and they had IDs proving they were under the Papacy’s jurisdiction.

The city’s mayor received Ghislain and his party with proper courtesy. Even though the meeting was unofficial, they were emissaries of the Empire. That alone warranted respect.

After exchanging warm greetings and introductions, the mayor cautiously asked,

“What brings members of the Imperial Papacy to this city?”

Ghislain didn’t beat around the bush and got straight to the point.

“We need you to gather the army. Contact the lords of all nearby territories and include this city’s military forces.”

“......”

Despite the abrupt demand, the mayor maintained his smiling expression. Though his cheek twitched slightly.

But the look in his eyes as he stared at Ghislain had turned cold—like he was looking at a lunatic.