The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations Novel - Chapter 793

Chapter 793
The logic behind the Demonic Realm’s accelerated timeline was easy to deduce.

It was the emergence of the Saintess.

From their perspective, the demons had to strike and gain the upper hand before she could become the focal point of a unified human resistance. Of course, she wasn’t the sole catalyst. The Salvation Order had also discovered that the Pope was actively hoarding Sacred Stones. The Pope’s objective was transparent: he intended to use them to launch an offensive to crush the Demonic Realm.

Even without the Saintess’s awakening, an invasion led by the Pope had become an inevitability.

With their king still missing, the Salvation Order found themselves backed into a corner. Their most viable strategy was to strike first, moving with enough speed to deal a devastating blow to humanity’s preparations.

*Kaaaah!*

The group stood paralyzed, the air seemingly sucked from their lungs by the vision Arterion displayed. Within ruins drenched in a deep crimson hue stood hairless, ashen figures that mimicked the human form.

No—calling them human was an insult to the term.

These nightmare creatures possessed elongated limbs, glowing scarlet eyes, and jagged, protruding teeth and talons. They were legion, an infinite tide of gray flesh spreading out as far as the eye could reach.

Unlike Ghislain, who had lived through the horrors of the future, the others had never laid eyes on Riftborn. To them, these were creatures of myth, the subjects of ancient, dusty legends.

*Kuuuhhhng!*

From the center of the Riftborn mass, a titan emerged.

The creature was a mountain of gray muscle encased in shimmering gold armor, with several azure horns crowning its skull. Thick blue vapor billowed from its maw, choking the atmosphere and obscuring the land.

Ghislain recognized the beast instantly.

‘Equidema, the Vanguard of the Apocalypse.’

It was a monster designed to terraform the environment, creating a localized domain where the Riftborn could thrive. However, Ghislain noticed a jarring discrepancy between this reality and his memories of the future.

‘The vapor hasn’t fully saturated the area yet, but the Riftborn are already aggressive.’

It contradicted everything he knew. In this state, their operational range should have been limited, yet they were moving with terrifying freedom. It was likely, as Ereneth had once theorized, that their proximity to the Demonic Realm allowed the Demon God’s corruption to permeate the land more intensely here.

‘It’s manageable for now, though.’

Until the arrival of the Adversary, the demons lacked the power to stabilize a massive, permanent Rift. The reach of the Demonic Realm’s energy was currently finite, meaning the Riftborn’s advance would eventually hit a wall. Equidema would continue to push the boundaries of its territory, but humanity still had a window to organize—especially in this era, which was far better equipped for total war than the fractured future Ghislain remembered.

Furthermore, there was another critical difference: this timeline still possessed the world’s ultimate predator.

*Grrrrrr…*

The heavens suddenly ignited.

A colossal shadow tore through the clouds hanging over the infested ruins.

*Kroaaaahhh!*

The thunderous roar of a Red Dragon shook the very foundations of the earth.

Its massive maw unhinged, and from the depths of its magical core, a torrent of incandescent flame erupted like a supernova. The Dragon’s breath descended as a vertical storm of fire, pouring down from the sky.

*Kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa-kwa!*

The deluge of heat struck like a physical weight, incinerating the monster ranks. The inferno expanded outward, turning the battlefield into an oven and erasing everything in its wake. The Riftborn didn’t just die; they were atomized by the thermal shock, leaving behind nothing but scorched, blackened earth.

The onlookers could only watch in stunned silence.

The pinnacle of living existence, the ultimate sovereign of the skies, was fighting on their side. While Dragons were usually a source of primal terror, there was no greater comfort than having one as a comrade-in-arms.

The distorted space around them snapped back to reality, and the vision vanished. The message, however, was crystal clear.

Arterion spoke, his voice grave.

“The Dragons guarding the borders of the Demonic Realm are currently holding the line against the horde. But the fact that they have mobilized at all means the enemy has prepared a force of unimaginable scale.”

He turned his piercing gaze back to Ghislain.

“Before long, those creatures will begin to fan out in every direction. The Allied Forces must be fully mobilized before that happens.”

Ghislain nodded in solemn agreement. While they still had a tactical window, they had to convince the Pope to set aside his personal ambitions and unify the human kingdoms.

Arterion’s expression darkened with irritation.

“I would prefer to assist you directly in this political matter, but I am unable. I have received a formal communication from the Pope.”

“A request…?”

“Indeed. Setting the matter of the Sacred Stones aside, he is demanding the immediate return of the Saintess. He has already dispatched vessels and a contingent of personnel to collect you. Furthermore… he has explicitly requested that my kind no longer interfere with the internal affairs of the Julien Mercenary Corps.”

“That sounds like him.”

“Regardless, my place is in the sky. I must join the other Dragons to suppress the Demonic Realm’s vanguard and buy precious time for your people. You will have to navigate the Pope’s demands on your own.”

“I understand. We appreciate everything you’ve done for us. We’ll take it from here, so please focus on the front lines.”

“I truly hope you can sway him. Strength alone cannot defeat an entire empire. If the situation turns dire, take the Saintess and go into hiding. Once I have stabilized the front, I will intercede with the Pope again.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Ghislain replied, his voice level.

This development wasn’t surprising. It was only logical that the Pope would try to isolate the Julien Mercenary Corps from their Draconic support. He wanted to resolve the situation on his own terms and under his absolute authority before any formal negotiations began.

As the meeting concluded, Ghislain signaled for Dark. He needed to issue a series of strategic directives to the various branches of the Julien Mercenary Corps scattered across the continent.

Arterion watched Dark with an inquisitive tilt of his head.

“What exactly is that creature? It doesn’t radiate the aura of a standard spirit.”

Dark, who was usually overflowing with arrogance and snark, looked visibly shaken. He lowered his head and stammered.

“I am the great Spirit King… uh…”

Even for an entity like Dark, a Dragon Lord was a terrifying presence. He had spent the entire journey hiding within Ghislain’s psyche, chatting with Astion to avoid being noticed.

Arterion’s eyes narrowed with scientific curiosity, looking at Dark the way a researcher looks at a fascinating new specimen. Sensing the impending danger, Ghislain immediately dismissed Dark, sending him spiraling into the sky.

“It’s nothing major. Just a peculiar variation of a spirit.”

“Is that so? Perhaps we can discuss the nature of that spirit at a later date.”

“…If the opportunity arises.”

Dark beat his wings with frantic desperation, eager to get away from the Dragon’s predatory gaze.

*Fwaaash!*

Once high in the atmosphere, Dark fractured into several autonomous copies, each heading toward a different kingdom.

With their messenger dispatched, the group began preparing for their departure. They each selected a secondary weapon from Arterion’s private collection. Having spent time familiarizing themselves with the armory’s contents previously, the choices were made quickly.

Ghislain surveyed the rows of legendary gear before turning to Arterion.

“Would you mind if I took two items?”

“Help yourself.”

With the Dragon’s blessing, Ghislain reached for a small, exquisitely crafted hand axe. It was an ornate piece, decorated with intricate gold filigree.

Arterion looked confused.

“That is a finely made tool, certainly, but is it not a bit underwhelming for someone of your caliber?”

“This one is for building rapport,” Ghislain answered cryptically, hooking the axe to his belt. He then searched through the racks until he found a spear that looked strikingly plain and dark.

Despite its humble appearance, nothing in a Dragon’s hoard was ordinary.

“What is the name of this spear?” Ghislain asked.

“Kardnakh. It translates to ‘The Spear That Leads to the Grave.’ It was carved from the bone of a Black Dragon and is layered with multiple high-tier enchantments. It is a true artifact.”

“Perfect. I’ll take it.”

“You have a discerning eye. But are you trained in the use of a spear?”

“I am. I used to be quite fond of the weapon in the past.”

Ghislain gave the spear a practiced twirl, whispering to himself.

“And this one is for persuasion.”

—

The delegation from the Empire arrived at Arterion’s domain.

Since they traveled under the Pope’s holy seal, they had been granted safe passage, avoiding the monster attacks that plagued the region.

Arterion ignored the envoys who were currently kneeling in supplication before him, choosing instead to address Deneb.

“I am entrusting you with the Sacred Stone in my possession.”

He gestured, and the fabric of reality seemed to splinter. Luminous cracks appeared in the air, widening into a portal that revealed a swirling blue void. From this pocket dimension, a single gemstone drifted out, emitting a pulse of raw, divine power.

While the dwarves and elves usually kept their stones housed within physical relics, Arterion appeared to store his within a fold of space itself. There was no questioning its authenticity; the sheer brilliance of the light it cast was impossible to replicate.

“Incredible…”

The Imperial representatives stared at the Sacred Stone with a mixture of greed and religious fervor. This was a treasure they never expected to see outside of scripture.

Arterion then pulled a ring from the same void. Like the other accessories he favored, it featured a specific mounting point.

*Click.*

As the blue stone settled into the ring, Arterion passed it to Deneb. She accepted it with a deep bow, sliding the band onto her finger.

Ghislain’s eyes sharpened.

‘Juana’s Blessing?’

In his original timeline, that ring had been a forgotten relic in the Juana Church’s vaults. Ghislain had taken it from Porisco and passed it to Piote, as it was a holy item that responded only to those with divine energy.

So, Deneb was the original owner?

That implied the necklace and bracelet might share similar properties, and their previous owners simply couldn’t activate them because they lacked the necessary divine spark.

‘Wait. It doesn’t seem to be active right now.’

The jewelry Deneb was currently wearing showed no signs of the Juana’s Blessing enchantment. During her training sessions, she had still taken full damage from blows, meaning the damage-reduction property hadn’t manifested yet.

‘Why is the power dormant?’

Driven by curiosity, Ghislain asked Arterion, “I noticed these pieces of jewelry are specifically designed to hold the Sacred Stones. Do they serve a functional purpose?”

“According to the old records, they were crafted for the high priests who performed the celestial rites. The stones required a stable housing.”

“So… they don’t possess any inherent abilities?”

“They are fashioned from incredibly rare elements, but they hold no intrinsic power beyond their historical significance.”

“I see.”

Coming from a Dragon Lord, the information was likely accurate. However, Ghislain formulated a new hypothesis.

‘Perhaps they only become true relics after being saturated with Deneb’s divine power over time?’

It was a logical conclusion. The necklace he had brought back with him was clearly infused with her essence.

‘I’ll have to make sure I secure the other pieces when I return to my own time.’

If they all functioned like Juana’s Blessing, they would make him nearly invincible.

Seizing the moment, Ghislain asked one more question.

“I’ve heard that every race has a primary sacred relic. I’ve seen the others, but what exactly is the Dragons’ ‘Heart of Creation’?”

Arterion simply tapped his chest.

“It is my heart.”

“…Pardon?”

“The accumulated wisdom and sovereign power transmitted only to the Lord of Dragons since the beginning of time. That is the Heart of Creation.”

“Ah…”

“It represents the divine right to reshape and govern the world as a Dragon. It is a power that is inherited only by the one chosen to lead our race.”

“That explains a lot.”

It clarified why Arterion had seemed so much more formidable than any other Dragon Ghislain had encountered, even in his past life. That power was the source of his dominance. It also made Ghislain more wary of the Adversary who had managed to curse and weaken such a being.

‘If he hadn’t been weakened by that curse, I never would have stood a chance.’

The memory of their past confrontation sent a shiver down his spine. Arterion had been the most terrifying adversary Ghislain had ever fought. Even with an army of heroes and a legion of mages, victory had nearly slipped through their fingers.

‘If Alfoy hadn’t intervened at the end…’

Ghislain shook his head, forcing the thought of Alfoy out of his mind. That man always seemed to haunt his thoughts at the most inconvenient times.

Meanwhile, the Imperial envoys were wide-eyed. They were hearing secrets that were supposed to be lost to time. However, their primary focus remained the Sacred Stone. Their eyes kept darting toward Deneb’s hand.

Sensing their intent, Arterion glared down at them.

“The Saintess, Deneb, is the rightful guardian of this Sacred Stone. You are to assist her in the coming war against the Demonic Realm. This is my decree; ensure it is relayed directly to the Pope.”

“W-we understand, Great One.”

“If you attempt to seize it through force, know that you will answer to the Dragons. Once the demonic threat is extinguished, our covenant with humanity ends.”

“We will deliver your words exactly as spoken.”

Arterion had purposely handed over the stone in front of the witnesses to establish Deneb’s legal and spiritual claim to it. This was the extent of the protection he could offer. He believed this warning would give the Julien Mercenary Corps enough leverage to negotiate with the Pope—unless the Empire was willing to risk total annihilation once the demons were gone.

Turning to the mercenaries, Arterion offered his final words.

“May the light of the goddesses guide your path. I look forward to our next meeting.”

With a powerful leap, Arterion took to the skies, carrying the people he had rescued from the Snowburr Kingdom. He was heading for the front lines to rally the other Dragons.

Once the Dragon Lord was out of sight, the Imperials visibly relaxed. The head of the delegation approached Deneb with a practiced, oily smile.

“It is a profound honor, Saintess. We are here to ensure your safe passage back to the Empire.”

They treated the Julien Mercenary Corps with exaggerated deference. During the voyage, they were served gourmet meals and given the most luxurious cabins on the ship. Despite the hospitality, no one in the group let their guard down. The Pope was a wild card, and they had no idea what kind of reception awaited them at the capital.

After several days at sea, the ship finally docked.

“Hm.”

Ghislain scanned the horizon with a neutral expression.

The port of Tulan was unrecognizable. The bustling markets and rows of housing were gone, replaced by a flat, desolate wasteland. It wasn’t the aftermath of a battle; there were no ruins or signs of struggle. This level of erasure could only be the work of a tyrant who had leveled the city and forcibly moved its population.

The Imperial guards began to quietly move away from the Julien Mercenary Corps, creating a gap.

And then—

“It has been quite some time, Julien Mercenary Corps.”

Darentz stepped forward, his missing arm a grim reminder of their last encounter, his face twisted into a predatory grin.