The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations Novel - Chapter 781

Chapter 781
Ghislain’s gaze shimmered with intent as he pursued the lady in the mask.
‘The pioneer of the Shadow Knights.’
The visage matched the one that had haunted his slumber. Even obscured by her face-covering, that particular stare was unmistakable.
A powerful conviction took hold of him—this masked figure was indeed the hero’s future ally, the primary architect of the Shadow Knights.
In truth, it was beyond a mere instinct.
The martial style she had displayed just moments ago bore a striking resemblance to the methods utilized by Belinda.
‘Hold on. Does this imply she is a far-off progenitor from my maternal lineage?’
It was a possibility. Then again, a millennium offered ample room for bloodlines to sever and for new heirs to be designated.
Regardless, the specifics were secondary. The crucial fact was that he had encountered an individual he was destined to find.
Clang!
With a casual motion, Ghislain parried the small blade the masked woman had lunged at him.
He bridged the gap between them in a heartbeat, a relaxed grin playing on his lips.
“Let us maintain our composure for a moment. I believe a discussion is in order.”
The woman in the mask stayed poised. She carefully lowered the subordinate she had been hauling along.
She clearly recognized that, in her current predicament, neither combat nor a hasty retreat would yield success.
Ghislain had entrusted the other trespassers to his allies. His entire concentration was fixed on the masked woman.
‘I must handle her with precision.’
She possessed enough talent to survive a standard strike. However, subjecting her to grueling interrogation to extract information was not a desirable path.
He had no wish to foster a grudge with a person who would eventually stand beside the hero.
Nevertheless, based on her current demeanor, a quick friendship seemed unlikely. He decided he would simply have to rough her up a bit.
‘Let’s prioritize her movement…’
Ghislain swung his heavy staff toward her lower limbs, intending to fracture just one leg—as a gentle measure.
Shff.
Her form flickered like a wisp of smoke and dissipated, leaving his strike to hit nothing but air.
Immediately shifting his weight, Ghislain launched his staff toward the periphery.
BOOM!
“Gah!”
The weapon slammed directly into the masked woman’s midsection just as she materialized at his side.
A cry of agony escaped her as she tumbled to the earth.
Yet, with remarkable mental grit, she merged back into the shadows to find a new vantage point.
Ghislain reached out, casting forth filaments of mana. His staff behaved like a sentient hunter, cutting through the atmosphere toward her position.
Clang!
This time, the masked woman intercepted the blow with a pair of daggers. Her pupils were vibrating with shock.
‘W-What kind of monster is this?’
She had been informed he was a sorcerer who had attained superhuman status. Yet, by any metric, his approach to battle was entirely devoid of typical magic-user traits.
‘What is my move…?’
She backed away rapidly, surveying the surroundings.
The followers she had led were already entirely suppressed.
The members of Julien’s Mercenary Corps had formed a perimeter, simply observing the spectacle. The sight was nearly impossible to process.
‘Their strength far exceeds the reports…’
Even if he was a superhuman, he was categorized as a mage. Traditionally, mages were vulnerable to being spotted and excelled poorly in close-quarters fighting.
That was why she had assumed that even if they were detected, a getaway would be feasible. She hadn’t spared a thought for the other mercenaries.
Her reliance on her own stealth and assassination prowess had been her downfall. It had been a grave oversight.
‘Damn. I should have exercised more patience and observed from afar.’
She never anticipated those low-lifes would be driven out of the settlement so quickly. That had forced her hand into a premature strike.
But seeing their coordination, it was evident they had been aware of a threat for some time. She couldn’t fathom where they had slipped up.
It was a massive tactical error. Her exit strategies were all predicated on the notion that the mercenaries were oblivious.
With that premise shattered, the situation had spiraled into a nightmare.
Before she could process her next step, Ghislain had retrieved his staff and was closing in again, striking with relentless rhythm.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
She attempted to break away several times, but the path was always blocked.
For a man of magic, he was disturbingly proficient in melee combat.
Finally, she resolved to fight with more ferocity while hunting for a gap in his defense.
Whoosh.
A multitude of daggers erupted once more from the folds of her cloak.
Every blade was tethered to her person by nearly invisible strings.
They slithered like serpents as they converged on Ghislain from every angle.
Twisting through the storm of steel, Ghislain found himself smiling.
‘This certainly triggers some memories.’
It felt remarkably like sparring with Belinda once more.
However, in contrast to Belinda, this woman’s execution was unpolished.
It was daring and experimental, yet her transitions were clumsy and her oversight was erratic.
Instead of applying calculated pressure, she was essentially throwing everything at the wall to see what stuck.
Ghislain came to a realization.
‘This art has not reached its final form yet.’
Initially, he attributed it to her lack of experience. But as the duel persisted, he sensed that the technique itself was still a work in progress.
He surveyed the clearing.
‘Is this her personal creation? It doesn’t feel like a style inherited from an established sect.’
None of the others utilized anything resembling this. At most, certain footwork patterns mirrored common practices.
Ghislain refrained from a finishing blow, choosing to continue his observation. His mind was racing with various strategies.
‘Ugh, what is the best approach? Dialogue won’t get through to her.’
‘Simply asking her to join me will lead nowhere…’
‘Am I truly forced to beat her within an inch of her life and take her by force?’
Ereneth and Lionel had aligned with him voluntarily. Each had their own motivations and hungers.
But this woman was a different breed. She would undoubtedly seek freedom at the first opportunity.
That posed a significant hurdle. The hero’s circle needed to be gathered and put through rigorous preparation.
As Ghislain contemplated how to ensnare her interest, she grew increasingly agitated. She could not mask her bewilderment as the engagement stretched on.
‘What is happening! What sort of mage engages like this?!’
It was common knowledge that mages faltered in a brawl. Even a superhuman mage was usually susceptible to a high-level knight.
That was why mages were never without a protective detail.
Yet this man stood alone.
Worse, he didn’t seem to care. Some of his soldiers were actually sitting down and eating while they watched.
That level of indifference spoke volumes about the absolute trust they placed in his power.
‘Damn it, damn it! You absolute deviant!’
The masked woman hurled silent vitriol at Ghislain—though he would have found the accusation incredibly unfair had he been able to hear it.
But no amount of internal screaming could resolve her crisis.
‘What can I do? If this continues, my life is at an end.’
She didn’t actually fear he would kill her. She could perceive that he was restraining his full power.
The fact that her subordinates were still breathing was proof enough.
Her anxiety stemmed from a different source. She carried her own heavy burdens.
Now that the objective was lost, she had to vanish—to get as far from these people as possible. But her adversary was proving to be a persistent shadow.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Her desperation began to poison her movements, making them erratic.
Ghislain, noting her decline, was suddenly struck by a mischievous thought.
‘She would likely lose her mind if I employed her own style against her.’
Yes, without a doubt. If this art was still being forged in this time period, witnessing a perfected iteration would be a profound shock.
Even if it were complete, seeing a stranger—someone not of her kin—master it would be terrifying.
Clang!
Ghislain created a gap and spoke.
“Your execution is quite unrefined.”
“……”
“Who provided your instruction? Or are these the fruits of your own labor?”
“……”
“Tsk, tsk. The silent type, I see. Regardless, that isn’t the proper application. It appears you are stumbling in the dark.”
Her eyes ignited with a sharp, wounded pride.
Observing her reaction, Ghislain offered a smooth grin.
“Would you like to witness how it’s actually done?”
Fwish!
Abruptly, Ghislain’s form dissolved into the murk. The masked woman’s eyes dilated in pure shock.
Before she could track him, Ghislain appeared at her back and leveled his staff.
Clang!
She managed a desperate block. But instantly, his body fragmented into darkness once more and disappeared.
She was in total disbelief.
‘H-How? How is a sorcerer moving with such fluidity?’
That specific maneuver—the ability to slip into the veil of shadows—was not a skill accessible to the common warrior.
Only the elite among assassins and master thieves could execute such feats.
Yet that wasn’t the most staggering part.
‘Why… why is his method so identical to my own?’
In reality, calling it “identical” was a stretch. The foundational structure was the same, but the fluidity and sophistication were on a vastly superior plane.
Fwish! Fwish! FWISH!
Ghislain flickered in and out of existence around her, draped in the gloom.
She attempted to break for the tree line again, but every single path was cut off by his sudden reappearance.
The masked woman ground her teeth, her confusion turning into a burning rage.
‘This man… He is mocking me.’
He wasn’t even attempting to land a strike anymore. He was simply vanishing and re-emerging, over and over.
With her dignity in tatters, she unleashed a flurry of daggers toward the last place he had been visible.
SHWIP!
Scores of blades zipped toward Ghislain.
He glided backward, putting some distance between them—but the blades pursued him with dogged intent.
Broadening his grin, Ghislain called out.
“I shall show you something even more entertaining now.”
Zzzzznnnng―!
A rift in space manifested in the air. From that void, dozens of daggers suddenly cascaded out.
Clangclangclangclangclang!
The blades summoned by Ghislain collided with and neutralized every single one of the daggers she had launched.
The masked woman stood frozen.
‘…That should be impossible.’
The blades were suspended in the sky. They weren’t tethered to his body by any strings.
That—was the pinnacle she had always aspired to reach.
A level where every blade acted independently and manifested an aura edge.
With that skill alone, a warrior could hold off an army. Against a lone opponent, it was the equivalent of a perfect, multi-directional ambush.
It was, quite literally, the ultimate expression of her combat philosophy.
And now, that dream she had spent her life chasing—was being demonstrated with effortless ease by a mage.
The masked woman bit her lip until it bled.
‘It is sorcery. He is merely mimicking my style through magic.’
That was a logical explanation. It was a counterfeit, not the genuine article.
But the way he continued to mirror her, to mock her progress by showing a superior version—it was unbearable.
“Tch!”
As she surged with mana, her daggers became more lethal and chaotic.
Clangclangclangclang!
Ghislain mirrored her tempo exactly, his movements intertwining with hers.
His intent was to demonstrate—beyond any shadow of a doubt—that his grasp of the art was absolute.
Clangclangclangclang!
Slowly, Ghislain’s blades began to systematically deflect her own.
He even began to precisely sever the threads that anchored her weapons to her body.
Clink, clatter.
As the connections were lost, her daggers began to rain harmlessly onto the dirt.
Very quickly, Ghislain’s floating blades formed a cage around her from every direction.
Trapped within that perimeter, even a superhuman would struggle to find an exit.
Belinda had once used this exact formation to dismantle Melkir and the other elite members of the Salvation Order.
As the wall of steel closed in, the masked woman’s eyes were consumed by terror.
‘How… how can this be real…’
The height of mastery she had only imagined.
The ruler of space, dancing through the dark.
The perfect manifestation was standing right in front of her.
She was consumed by a frantic curiosity—how this man possessed this knowledge, why he could execute it so flawlessly.
But she had no time for questions. She had to flee.
Fwish!
Her body turned into a shadow once more, trying to slip through the gaps—but Ghislain’s blades were faster.
Fshhhhhh!
Dozens of daggers hissed past her form. It was a lethal chorus that left no room for evasion.
‘Precision… keep it steady…’
Ghislain steered the blades with absolute care.
The goal wasn’t to maim her—he wanted to prove his dominance and plant the seeds of longing and wonder in her heart.
He had to avoid inflicting any lasting harm.
Shk! Shk! Shk!
As the woman frantically tried to shield her face, she noticed a peculiar pattern.
The blades were only grazing her skin with the lightest of touches. Her attire was being shredded and she was receiving tiny nicks, but none of the strikes were deep.
The daggers kept darting in, as if corralling her.
Some were even just tapping her playfully—as if she were a toy.
With a look of utter defeat and confusion, the masked woman finally collapsed to her knees, her eyes welling with tears. She pulled the tattered remnants of her clothing around her.
“You sick pervert… just end this and kill me already.”
“……”
Clatterclatterclatter.
Ghislain’s daggers fell to the earth simultaneously.
The atmosphere had become incredibly strained.
He had been attempting to be careful, yet the result was the same—his blades had stripped her. Her clothes were in ribbons; she looked like she had been through a thresher.
A woman, weeping on her knees, desperately holding together torn fabric—anyone coming across the scene would draw a single conclusion.
And unfortunately… the locals were watching. Once again.
“Oh no… he’s doing it again.”
“Wasn’t he called Astion? He truly is the most dangerous one.”
“Indeed. He was the first to act like a thug yesterday as well.”
The villagers began to murmur. Naturally, with his heightened senses, Ghislain heard every syllable.
He felt a monumental level of frustration.
“……”
The more he reflected on it, the more he realized this village was simply a curse on his reputation.
Rubbing his temples in annoyance, Ghislain thought to himself,
‘This is far more difficult than it looks.’
Unlike the future he remembered, there were countless social variables to manage now. Trying to be strategic was actually making things more complicated.
The world saw him as a monster, but from his view, this was extreme self-control.
‘Still… this should have made an impression, right?’
He had shown her the peak. Now it was time to apply pressure through other means.
Zzzzing—!
Ghislain pulled Gramdir from his dimensional storage.
“The name of this blade is ‘Gramdiologue’—no, let’s just call it ‘Dialogue.’ I only draw it when I am ready for a truly serious conversation.”
“……”
“You are aware that I have been holding back. The reason I mimicked your style was because there is information I wish to convey.”
“Information you wish to share?”
“Indeed. But that is not the most pressing matter. First, I require some answers.”
“……”
“I suggest you speak truthfully from this point forward. If you choose otherwise…”
Ghislain leveled Gramdir, resting the edge against the masked woman’s throat.
“I will begin by executing your comrades one by one. And as for you… your end will be anything but swift.”
It was a classic villainous threat. But Ghislain was exactly the sort of individual who would follow through if pushed.
The energy of the clearing shifted instantly. A heavy, suffocating aura of bloodlust began to permeate the air.
The woman in the mask found it hard to draw breath. The sheer intensity of the killing intent Ghislain was projecting was overwhelming.
And the villagers, witnessing this turn…
“…The monster has finally revealed himself.”
“We must leave. That expression is not human.”
“Astion… is a truly terrifying predator.”
They continued to whisper as they began to retreat.
And just like that, the legend of Astion’s infamy grew once more.
“……”
Ghislain felt a sense of total resignation.
The name Astion was already being dragged through the mud in various circles—for entirely different reasons.
At this point, a complete identity change was starting to look attractive.
Ghislain understood that threats were only a starting point. As he gathered his thoughts to determine his next move—
To his absolute amazement, the woman in the mask suddenly spoke.
“We… were dispatched by the Pope.”
“…What?”
Ghislain squinted, his head tilting in confusion.
That was a name he had never expected to hear.