The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations Novel - Chapter 803

Chapter 803
“Iralniel!”
Ereneth sprinted toward her, a radiant grin lighting up her face. It was clear that nobody was more thrilled by Iralniel’s arrival than she was.
Iralniel returned the gesture with a gentle, loving smile as she laid eyes on the girl.
“Ereneth, you have truly transformed.”
The change required no explanation.
Her aura was unrecognizable from her days in the woods. The power radiating from her now rivaled that of the high elven elders. It was undeniable proof that she had ascended to the ranks of a superhuman.
Iralniel gave a satisfied nod of approval.
‘Joining the Julien Mercenary Corps was indeed the correct path. To achieve such growth in this timeframe… and yet…’
A flicker of concern crossed her eyes.
While Ereneth had gained immense power, her spiritual energy felt jagged and unrefined.
However, this was a reunion, not a lecture. Iralniel suppressed her worries, maintaining her pleasant demeanor while offering praise for the young woman’s progress.
The members of the Julien Mercenary Corps stepped forward to pay their respects. Because Iralniel was a figure who commanded genuine reverence, every mercenary bowed their head with deep sincerity.
Once the formalities were over, Ghislain spoke up with a bright expression.
“I hope the trek here wasn’t too taxing?”
“It was perfectly fine. Now that the conflict with the Demonic Realm has commenced, who would dare obstruct our passage?”
It was true. Traditionally, once the war against the Demonic Realm began, the elves and dwarves would travel to the Empire to coordinate their defenses. This long-standing protocol made travel for the non-human races far easier. Consequently, Iralniel had navigated the journey without incident.
And the elves weren’t the only ones arriving.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
The earth trembled under a rhythmic, heavy pounding.
From the horizon, a massive column approached, looking like a moving mountain range.
Dwarven warriors, encased in heavy steel plates, rode atop beasts known as “Bakrok”—creatures that resembled massive, armored rhinoceroses.
If the elven host felt like the living spirit of the forest on the move, the dwarven army felt like a sliding wall of granite.
Leading them was the Dwarf King, Grondal.
As soon as he spotted Iralniel and the Julien Mercenary Corps, he let out a thunderous roar of laughter.
“Hahaha! It seems the whole gang is already here!”
Iralniel watched Grondal approach, a faint, knowing smirk on her lips.
“Children of the stone, it has been quite some time.”
Grondal tugged at his beard and gave a sharp snort.
“And you long-ears—I see you’re still drawing breath.”
“As long as the forest stands, we remain in tranquility. Unless, of course, someone is foolish enough to threaten it.”
“Bah, still talking that same tedious drivel. It’s no wonder your race stays stagnant.”
The two leaders traded smiles, but a palpable friction crackled between them. That tension rippled outward, causing the very air in the vicinity to turn chilly.
Finally, Ghislain intervened.
“Er, excuse me… perhaps you two could catch up on your history later? We have far more pressing concerns right now.”
“Fair enough. Let us proceed.”
“Hmph! Not like there’s anything left to say anyway!”
It was common knowledge that elves and dwarves harbored an ancient rivalry. Even the legendary figures at the pinnacle of their respective societies were not immune to that deep-seated friction.
As the two armies began to reorganize their ranks, Marquis Valesant paced back and forth in a state of high anxiety. The sudden appearance of two full non-human armies was an overwhelming sight for him.
“Good heavens, what is all this? Have you gathered this entire host just to wage war against the Pope?”
“We don’t plan on attacking immediately… think of it more as a strategic demonstration of power.”
“A demonstration? To what end?”
“To ensure we have a seat at the negotiating table with the Pope.”
Ghislain’s strategy was to march this combined force toward the capital to corner the Pope. Once they were at the city gates, the Pope would be unable to simply deploy the military to wipe them out.
Furthermore, there were still more allies on the way.
After a few days of waiting, another military force appeared.
Marquis Valesant rubbed his eyes in disbelief when he identified the banners flying in the wind.
“Why is the Marquis of Raks here? And—N-Nodehill as well?”
It was Leo and Andrew, the rising powers of the Kingdom of Flovitz, arriving at the head of their own legions.
Valesant was utterly baffled. Like him, they had been stationed in different territories. How had they managed to march such massive armies all this way? Surely the imperial monitors would have stopped them, and neighboring kingdoms would have blocked their path. How was this possible?
As he stood there in shock, Leo and Andrew spotted the Julien Mercenary Corps and ran over with wide, relieved smiles.
“Brothers! Sister! You made it!”
“Phew! We were worried sick about you!”
Ghislain greeted them with a warm embrace.
“I’m glad you made it. It couldn’t have been simple to mobilize such a force.”
Andrew chuckled loudly at that.
“We have the elves and dwarves to thank for that. Since they made an official diplomatic request, we were able to squeeze through.”
Indeed, both the Raks and Nodehill legions were interspersed with elven and dwarven units. These weren’t just soldiers from the hidden realms, but members of those races who had been living in various regions.
Under the directives of Iralniel and Grondal, they had grouped up and then used the two leaders’ authority to act as “escorts” for the human armies heading toward the Empire.
The imperial inspectors had no grounds to refuse. Since the war against the Demonic Realm was starting, all races were expected to congregate at the Imperial Capital. Since the Nodehill and Raks forces were so large, they had “agreed” to let half their troops serve as guardians for the non-human delegates.
But in reality, that “half” of the army wasn’t composed of regular Nodehill or Raks soldiers.
“Hey! Good to see you!”
“Whoa! Commander, Vice-Commanders—it’s been too long!”
“Do you have any idea how much of a rush it was to get here?”
These were the members of the Julien Mercenary Corps who had been scattered across the continent—the mercenaries previously under Tyron’s management and those working in various outposts.
Since the Pope had begun targeting the Julien Mercenary Corps, the safety of every mercenary under that banner was in jeopardy. To survive, they had hidden themselves within the Raks and Nodehill ranks to move undetected.
Ghislain looked over the gathering with a satisfied smirk.
“Excellent. With this kind of numbers, the Pope won’t be able to act recklessly.”
The imperial and royal forces were currently spread thin across the continent. If a concentrated force of this magnitude arrived at the capital, the Empire wouldn’t be able to easily crush them.
Combined with the looming Demonic Realm threat, if the Pope ordered a direct assault on the Julien Mercenary Corps now, it would be a suicidal move for the Empire.
Ghislain had engineered a predicament where the opposition had no choice but to engage on his terms. It was a bold trap; even if the Pope saw the snare, he had to walk into it. A full-scale battle in the capital would cause catastrophic damage.
The imperial inspectors who had traveled with the Raks and Nodehill troops stared at the scene in utter horror.
“W-what is the meaning of this…?”
They still didn’t fully grasp the depth of the conspiracy, but their instincts warned them that something monumental was happening.
With a simple signal from Andrew and Leo, the inspectors and their staff were quickly disarmed and restrained.
“Have you gone mad? This is a direct rebellion against the Empire!”
“The Empire will hunt you down for this!”
The inspectors yelled until they were blue in the face, but their threats fell on deaf ears. The momentum was already unstoppable.
This conflict had to be resolved before the war with the Demonic Realm reached its peak.
While there were still inspectors at the main bases of the Raks and Nodehill forces, they would remain oblivious to these events until it was far too late to intervene.
The detained inspectors were loaded into wagons, joined by those who had been monitoring Marquis Valesant. The only official left free was the one inspector who had been a double agent from the start.
As the dust settled, Marquis Valesant began to whine loudly.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake! When did you all plan this together? Why was I kept in the dark? I could have made proper arrangements if I’d known!”
He looked genuinely hurt. It felt like a slight that only the Marquises of Raks and Nodehill were in on the secret. After all, he was one of the three pillars of the Kingdom of Flovitz too.
Ghislain offered a soothing smile to calm him down.
“To be honest, Marquis, you’ve always been a man who prefers peace and quiet, haven’t you?”
“W-well, yes, I suppose.”
“That’s why we didn’t want to burden you with this violent, messy business. We kept you out of it for your own peace of mind.”
“H-hm. Well, I appreciate the consideration, but please, include me next time. I feel a bit excluded.”
“Of course. You have my word for the next one.”
Valesant’s mood improved slightly at the promise. However, everyone there knew that if he had been told about this dangerous gamble beforehand, he would have fled the country immediately.
“Alright, let’s go have a word with the Pope.”
Ghislain led the march once again.
With the addition of the elves, dwarves, and the combined forces of Raks, Nodehill, and Valesant, their numbers had swelled into the tens of thousands.
They marched with high heads and bold steps. No one dared to block their path. Most bystanders assumed they were simply a massive coalition heading to fight the demons.
Finally, as they neared the capital, Ghislain sent a formal, public demand for an audience with the Pope.
Only then did the Empire realize the severity of the situation, frantically calling in nearby regiments to form a blockade.
An imperial general, face red with fury, screamed at them.
“Are you really trying to start a civil war while the Demonic Realm is at our gates? Disband this instant and surrender the Julien Mercenary Corps!”
Iralniel and Grondal moved to the front of the line.
“We have received word that the Pope intends to harm the Saintess. The elven people will never stand by while the Saintess is in danger.”
“The dwarves agree! The Julien Mercenary Corps are heroes to our kin! If you move against them, you move against us!”
Faced with the leaders of both races, the imperial officers hesitated. They might have used force against another human kingdom, but a war against non-humans was a different matter entirely. If they made the wrong move, it could trigger a global racial conflict.
And the pressure didn’t stop there.
“The mercenaries of the world stand with the Julien Mercenary Corps!”
“If the Commander or the Saintess are touched, we all go down fighting!”
“Commander Julien is our King!”
“We don’t care about the Empire!”
“To hell with Astion!”
“Waaaaaaah! We are one!”
Roars of support from mercenaries echoed from every corner of the camp.
In truth, many of these mercenaries didn’t have a deep personal bond with Julien. Most were just caught up in the fervor of the moment.
However, the footprint of the Julien Mercenary Corps was massive. By establishing branches in every nation, they had created a sense of unity among mercenaries that hadn’t existed before. With the demon war starting, these fighters knew that staying united under a powerful name was their only hope of not being used as cannon fodder.
This was why the mercenaries of the continent rallied behind the Julien Mercenary Corps.
Ghislain finally stepped forward.
“We aren’t here for a massacre. We want to settle this with the Pope face-to-face. Go tell him: we demand a meeting.”
“What? You think you can just negotiate with His Holiness the Pope?”
“Exactly. We can do it with words, or we can do it with steel.”
Ghislain leveled his spear and gave a chillingly calm smile.
The imperial general sputtered, unable to find a response.
“Y-you arrogant bastards, how did you even get this far—”
The general couldn’t understand what the other kingdom armies had been doing. The Julien Mercenary Corps should have been intercepted long ago. Yet, they had arrived with a massive coalition. Not only that, but the ten thousand imperial troops sent to stop them had been wiped out, along with several superhumans.
‘What am I supposed to do here?’
The Julien Mercenary Corps was out in the open, and the Empire had more troops arriving, so a battle was possible. But with the non-human races involved, a field commander didn’t have the authority to pull the trigger.
The standoff lasted for days. No orders came down from the Pope.
“Khrrm… His Holiness must be deliberating very carefully.”
Everyone knew the truth. The Pope was likely livid, but he was backed into a corner. With the actual keepers of the Sacred Stones standing in defense of the Saintess, he couldn’t just take the stones by force.
Ghislain remained confident. He knew the Pope would eventually have to cave.
And just as he thought…
“His Holiness has decided to emerge! Show your respect!”
“The representative of the goddesses is here! Bow before the holy presence!”
“Kneel before the master of light! The sacred will is among us!”
Amidst the deafening shouts of the imperial soldiers, a heavy, divine pressure began to descend upon the battlefield.