The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 224: Keep Going Until It Works (Part 3)

“Ko, Koko! Koko!”

Alfoi, pale-faced, frantically searched for Koko.

Not far from there, he spotted the dwarves drinking with Kane.

“Ah, this is really delicious. Is it because it’s been so long since I’ve had meat?”

Kane, seated near a campfire, tore into a roasted chicken leg with a satisfied expression.

Currently, he had been promoted to a foreman overseeing fifty laborers, recognized for his hard work.

Initially, when he had been forcibly dragged here and made to dig tunnels, it had been sheer torture. But as he got used to the job and gained subordinates, life had become somewhat bearable.

Of course, he still couldn’t shake the thought that he should have paid back the thousand gold coins a long time ago.

Alfoi trembled violently as he looked at the size and shape of the chicken roasting in front of Kane.

“Ko… Koko…!”

Memories of Koko flooded back to him. When Koko was just a chick, Alfoi had lovingly fed it by hand. Once it grew bigger, he even cuddled with it to sleep.

― “Our Koko, so pretty. Hahaha!”

Though somewhat idealized, these were Alfoi’s cherished memories. In this harsh estate, raising Koko had become his new source of joy after giving up on gambling.

And now, that precious companion had been cooked and eaten by this ignorant bastard.

“Arghhhhh!”

Alfoi gathered mana in his hands and unleashed a fireball. The sudden attack startled Kane and the dwarves, causing them to leap to their feet.

“What the hell!”

Kane shouted, standing up, and Alfoi took a step closer, yelling back.

“How dare you! How dare you eat my bet… no, my precious Koko!”

“What? Koko? What’s that? Is it food?”

“You’re already eating it! I’ll never forgive you! I’ll kill you!”

“What the hell? Koko? What the fuck are you talking about, you lunatic!”

Kane, who had once been known as a scoundrel of the North, wasn’t one to back down easily. He was also large in stature and, as the son of a noble family, had trained in mana techniques.

Grabbing a sledgehammer used for construction, he channeled mana into it, causing the hammer to glow with a bluish hue.

Imbuing mana into a blunt weapon was far more difficult than infusing it into a sword. However, the grueling work on the construction site had made him even stronger, allowing him to easily envelop his hammer with mana.

He gripped the hammer tightly. Fueled by alcohol and the frustration of having suppressed his temper for so long, Kane didn’t bother assessing the situation further. He was simply determined to crush Alfoi under his hammer.

“Come at me, you bastard! I’m the heir of Rogues!”

“You’re not the only heir! I’m the heir of the Crimson Flame Tower!”

The dwarves retreated further, remarking that they now had front-row seats to an excellent spectacle.

Just as the two proud heirs were about to clash, something suddenly jumped out from the side.

“Bawk! Bawk-bawk!”

“Koko!”

Alfoi beamed and quickly snatched up Koko, hugging it tightly. It seemed the chicken had simply escaped the coop for a brief adventure.

Watching the scene, Galbarik cautiously asked,

“That… is Koko, right? Can you even tell? They all look the same. There are plenty of chickens wandering around here.”

Alfoi looked down at the chicken in his arms. To be honest, they all did look similar, and he was a bit confused. However, now that he’d already embraced it, it would be embarrassing to admit otherwise.

“It is! Just look at that magnificent comb! It’s definitely Koko!”

As Alfoi insisted, Kane smirked a few times before plopping back into his seat.

“Ugh, lunatic.”

The dwarves also sat back down and resumed feasting on their chicken. Alfoi pointed a finger at them and shouted,

“You savages! Starting today, I’m going vegetarian!”

“Suit yourself.”

Still fuming, Alfoi stormed back to his quarters, while Kane and the dwarves, entirely unconcerned, kept eating.

As people who had been drinking after a long time caused small commotions throughout the camp, Ghislain gathered his retainers for a meeting to discuss the next steps.

With the incubator, which had seemed impossible, now successfully built, the retainers were full of praise once again.

“Being able to secure a large supply of meat is a significant advantage here in the North. With the food shortage still ongoing, this will bring in substantial profits.”

“The better fed our troops and the elves undergoing training are, the greater their strength will be. Lady Vanessa has accomplished something remarkable.”

At that moment, Claude chimed in.

“All of this is thanks to the lord’s foresight, isn’t it? I knew it would succeed from the start!”

Everyone, including Ghislain, stared blankly at Claude.

“What? Why? Why are you all looking at me? I didn’t object nearly as much as usual, did I? Was I wrong?”

It was true that he had opposed the plan less than usual. In reality, he had just given up and let it proceed.

Clicking his tongue twice at Claude’s shamelessness, Ghislain pointed to various locations on the map.

“Good work, everyone. Now, the crucial task is ensuring the incubators are distributed across the entire estate. You all understand how essential this is, right?”

“Of course! We plan to build large-scale hatcheries in key regions and provide farmers with a standardized design for small-scale incubators. We’ll also teach them methods that ensure the highest success rates.”

The individual incubators weren’t fully automated. Farmers would still need to check on them regularly, much like before.

However, even just providing optimal rearing guidelines would more than double the hatch rate, which should be more than satisfactory.

Initially, the plan was to consume the meat produced by farmers within the estate. In the meantime, large hatcheries would be constructed in various areas, allowing for mass production of meat in the near future.

Claude’s confident response made Ghislain smirk. Turning his gaze to Vanessa, he spoke this time.

“There shouldn’t be any problems adding more to each region, right?”

“Yes, yes! We’ll need to monitor things a bit longer, but there shouldn’t be any major issues!”

Despite Ghislain’s suggestion for her to take a break for once, Vanessa stubbornly attended the meeting.

Successfully hatching once didn’t mean the work was done. It was crucial to ensure that the conditions inside the incubators remained stable in the long term.

Since the method involved water evaporation, failing to monitor them consistently could lead to excessively high humidity or a drop in temperature, both of which were common issues.

So far, Vanessa and the dwarves had repeatedly made adjustments to the mechanisms while keeping an eye on the incubators’ state.

Now that one significant and critical matter had been resolved, Ghislain felt slightly at ease.

But he couldn’t afford to relax just because things were going smoothly.

‘The situation has become more complicated because of me. Everyone must be wracking their brains right now.’

He was drawing on his past life’s knowledge to alter the future. The situation was growing increasingly unpredictable.

‘One misstep and everyone will die.’

Even though the knight commander had died disgracefully while fleeing, Count Cabaldi’s knights had fought to the death with unwavering resolve.

According to Belinda, even the commander of the fortress walls had been encouraged to surrender but had refused.

Even a mere tyrannical lord of the northern region had such loyal knights serving him. That being the case, the others were bound to be even more formidable.

‘I’ll have to keep fighting even more extraordinary knights in the future. It’s not just Desmond. The knights of the ducal families surpass those of other territories by far.’

Ghislain knew this from his unrelenting battles in his previous life. Even as an enemy, he couldn’t help but acknowledge how formidable they were.

To defeat such adversaries, there was only one way—to always act ahead of them.

The Fenris Estate also had to grow much stronger than it was now.

Currently, all the villages in the estate were being consolidated into nearby fortresses and castles. This was to maintain a perpetual state of wartime readiness.

‘Each fortress and castle needs to stockpile sufficient resources. And to ensure swift coordination, there’s one thing that’s absolutely necessary.’

Ghislain glanced at the map before him, drawing lines connecting each fortress, village, and even Ferdium to the Northern Fortress.

The people gathered in the conference room wore puzzled expressions. Glancing at them one by one, Ghislain grinned widely.

“It’s time to begin a large-scale road construction project.”

* * *

Count Harold Desmond was currently in significant trouble.

The loss of the Cabaldi County meant his iron supply was no longer secure.

On top of that, the deployment of his army had been fully exposed. Though he had tried to pass it off as a training exercise, the Royal Faction wouldn’t believe it.

Despite enduring suspicion and pretending to be neutral all this time, Harold’s efforts had gone to waste.

“Phew… Everything’s been messed up because of that guy.”

His original plan had been to assist Cabaldi and then push all the way to Ferdium. However, with Cabaldi’s swift and utter defeat, that plan had crumbled to dust.

Starting a war now was also difficult. Acting recklessly would undoubtedly draw the Marquis of Branford’s attention, and Harold couldn’t afford that.

Even the position of Northern Army Commander had been snatched away by that guy. It wasn’t an essential position, but losing something he once held left a bitter taste in his mouth.

‘And what now? A Count? That little brat has already risen to the rank of Count? And his father became a Marquis!’

The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. That guy was slowly and steadily consolidating everything he needed, exploiting every opportunity to do so.

‘It’s not the right time to start a war. But I also can’t just let him sit on all that iron.’

One way or another, Harold knew he had to kill him, and soon.

His thoughts in turmoil, Harold turned to his retainers and asked, “Are the spies sending back information properly?”

Harold had received reports on the progress of the war, but they were riddled with inconsistencies, leaving him frustrated.

The spies’ reports were the only ones he found even somewhat reliable.

“They’ve managed to blend in well among the settlers, but… maintaining contact has been difficult.”

“Why?”

“Although the estate’s lockdown has eased slightly, the surveillance remains tight. For now, the spies are working near the lord’s castle and only manage to make contact during merchant guild transactions. And, well…”

“And what?”

“They say they’re too busy to spare any time. The wages are good, and they’ve even managed to buy themselves houses.”

“…”

Harold was momentarily at a loss for words. Why did everything become so bizarre when dealing with that man?

He had sent people to spy, and now they were happily working hard, earning wages, and buying houses.

Taking a deep breath to suppress his growing irritation, Harold shifted the subject.

“Any unusual reports?”

“They say the food supplies don’t seem to diminish. The estate lord is continuously distributing food to the residents and trading as well.”

It was odd. No matter how much food they might have stockpiled, the consumption rate was far too high. By now, the supplies should have run out.

There was undoubtedly a hidden source of food somewhere. Harold needed more information.

“What about sending assassins?”

“Based on the information we’ve gathered, there are over 200 knights, and most of the troops are stationed near the lord’s castle. It’s clear the Royal Faction has heavily reinforced him with knights. Approaching the castle would be difficult without sending someone highly skilled.”

Harold clicked his tongue. If an assassination attempt failed, the security around Ghislain would only become tighter.

He had to assume there was only one chance and plan accordingly.

‘All this chaos because of one brat! What kind of situation is this?!’

Grind.

Harold clenched his teeth without realizing it. Because of Ghislain, his reputation within the ducal family had plummeted to rock bottom.

The boy’s current successes were largely Harold’s fault, after all.

If it weren’t for the food crisis, he would have lost his position entirely by now.

One of the retainers cautiously spoke up, gauging Harold’s mood.

“What about attacking the cosmetics merchant guild?”

“What would be the point of that? Beyond some minor financial losses, it wouldn’t affect the overall situation.”

If they couldn’t strike directly at Ghislain, such petty schemes were meaningless.

Moreover, the cosmetics business was also tied to the ducal family. A careless move could further complicate things and only heighten the enemy’s vigilance.

Understanding this, the retainer hesitantly continued.

“According to intelligence, Fenris… I mean, Count Fenris, personally accompanied the guild on their last expedition. We could wait for an opportunity when he ventures out again…”

“And when will that be?”

“…”

Ever since the cosmetics business had stabilized, Ghislain rarely led the guild personally. Waiting for an unpredictable opportunity like that could take far too long.

The problem was, there didn’t seem to be any other viable options.

“For now, have the spies monitor when that guy plans to move outside the estate.”

“Yes, understood.”

Neither Harold nor his retainers expected much from this order.

How could spies, too busy to make proper contact, gather such precise details? Even if they did, the timing would likely be off.

‘Should I just ignore all this and directly attack his territory?’

But initiating a war was far too risky. Ghislain’s forces had grown considerably, and the Second Legion still loomed nearby, keeping a watchful eye.

Count Raypold also remained a formidable presence.

Harold was surrounded by enemies on all sides.

Unless Amelia successfully launched her rebellion or the ducal family started a civil war, Harold had no chance of achieving victory without sustaining heavy losses.

‘So, do I really have to wait for him to lead the guild again? The guild… wait. The guild itself?’

Harold paused, lost in thought, before turning to his adjutant.

“Didn’t Paril’s merchant guild, which sided with us, recently meet with that guy to negotiate?”

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I knew I remembered correctly. If that brat won’t come out, I’ll just have to go to him and kill him myself.”

“You mean…”

“We sacrifice one guild. Find a way to arrange a meeting and make sure to kill him.”

Sneaking into the estate was likely to fail. However, if they could get close enough, the odds of a successful ambush would increase significantly.

To achieve this, they needed bait enticing enough to lure the lord himself into a meeting.

“Present him with an offer he absolutely cannot refuse. Make it so he has no choice but to come out personally.”

For this plan to work, Harold needed to use a guild based in another region, one whose ties to him were not yet revealed.

It was a significant sacrifice, throwing away a well-developed asset.

The retainers, aware of this, voiced their concerns.

“Even if the plan succeeds, the loss is too great. We’ve invested a lot of time building up that guild.”

“Leaving that guy alive costs us even more. Send the liquor from the ducal family along with the offer.”

Harold had a special liquor in his possession—sent by the ducal family specifically to eliminate Raypold’s knight commander, the strongest knight in the north.

The liquor was incredibly rare, with only a few bottles existing, even within the ducal family’s stores.

Using it on Ghislain instead of Amelia showed just how desperate Harold’s situation had become.

The retainers couldn’t object further. Harold’s eyes radiated a cold, deadly intent, and they feared that opposing him further might turn that hostility on them.

Grinding his teeth, Harold repeated himself.

“Make sure—absolutely sure—that the brat is killed. Relay the message.”