The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations

Chapter 359

“What... what did you just say?”

For a moment, Brody thought he had misheard. How could a mere 3rd-circle mage be so arrogantly bold?

Yet, Alfoy’s expression was dead serious. He wasn’t joking—this man might actually have lost his mind.

“Pfft, hahaha!”

Ghislain, seated in the spectators' section, burst into laughter, clutching his stomach. Even Gillian’s jaw tightened as he clearly struggled to suppress his own laughter. The knights and soldiers of Fenris exchanged amused glances, doing their best not to chuckle.

The previously tense atmosphere took on an absurdly comical tone. The Crimson Tower mages, however, found this highly displeasing.

Delmuth’s glare darkened as he fixed his gaze on Alfoy.

“Brody, kill him. No mercy.”

The command was clear—no surrender would be accepted. Delmuth needed to reassert dominance. Alfoy’s mockery threatened to shift the balance of fear, and fear was critical for the Crimson Tower’s control.

Brody nodded sharply, turning back to Alfoy. “You hear that? No surrender. I’ll make sure you die slowly.”

At this, Hubert jumped to his feet, shouting, “What’s the meaning of this? Are you trying to push things too far? Alfoy, step back! This exchange is over!”

Delmuth also rose, his voice booming with authority. “Who said you could end it? From now on, no surrender is allowed! Defy me, and I’ll see to it personally!”

Crack!

A wave of energy burst from Delmuth, the pressure of a 7th-circle mage blanketing the arena. Everyone froze in place. Hubert and the Scarlet Tower elders paled, their faces drained of all color. Even the apprentices recoiled in terror.

The atmosphere grew suffocating, a clear sign that Delmuth wasn’t bluffing. This wasn’t just a duel anymore—it was a prelude to carnage.

In desperation, Hubert turned to Ghislain. “C-Count of Fenris! Surely you could mediate...?”

Before he could finish, Ghislain cut him off. “Why rush? Alfoy hasn’t decided what to do yet.”

“What... What could he possibly—”

“I’m not surrendering.”

Hubert’s jaw dropped as Alfoy’s voice rang out, calm and resolute.

“What?”

“I’m going to give it a shot,” Alfoy said with a shrug, his expression almost casual.

“You idiot! That man is a 4th-circle master! You’ll die the moment the duel starts!”

Though Hubert had largely disowned Alfoy, there was a shred of lingering affection for the apprentice he had once mentored. The thought of losing him now, even foolish as he was, felt unbearable.

“Step down now! This duel is nullified!” Hubert barked.

Alfoy scratched his head, looking more exasperated than frightened. “Everyone’s so scared over nothing.”

“It’s not that big a deal.”

At first, even Alfoy had been nervous. But now, facing Brody, he felt surprisingly calm. After everything he’d been through in Fenris, this barely registered as a threat.

He’d nearly died when Vanessa drained his mana in the first battle. He’d almost been crushed during his airship crash with Kaor. He’d fought against the North’s strongest, the Desmond Army, and barely escaped the Queen Grex and her swarm.

Compared to those life-or-death experiences, a duel with a 4th-circle mage seemed almost trivial.

And Delmuth?

“What’s so scary about a 7th-circle mage? The Count’s here, isn’t he?”

Even if Ghislain couldn’t outright defeat Delmuth, there was no way he’d go down without dragging the mage into oblivion with him.

Alfoy had been through so much insanity that his sense of fear had dulled considerably. He now understood Ghislain’s seemingly reckless yet calculated approach better than anyone else.

He waved Hubert off dismissively. “It’s fine. I’ll fight.”

“You little—! Step down immediately!”

Hubert moved to physically drag Alfoy out, but Ghislain interrupted.

“Let him try. Have some faith.”

“Faith? The circle difference is insurmountable!”

“Circles aren’t everything,” Ghislain countered with an amused smirk.

“For mages, they are everything!” Hubert fumed, but it was no use. Ghislain remained unmoving.

“Fine! Do whatever you want! You’re all crazy!” Hubert fumed, sitting back down angrily. Still, he began gathering mana in his hands, ready to break the barrier if Alfoy was in mortal danger.

Delmuth, noticing Hubert’s actions, whispered to his elders. “If anyone interferes, kill them immediately.”

Hubert, sensing the subtle threat, reluctantly dispersed his mana. Starting a full-scale fight now would be catastrophic.

As the commotion subsided, Alfoy glanced back at Ghislain. The Count gave him a thumbs-up, his grin encouraging.

Alfoy chuckled, then turned to Vanessa, who watched him with worried eyes, her hands clasped tightly together.

With a cocky smirk, Alfoy slicked back his hair dramatically. “Watch closely. This is the power of yours truly.”

The elder overseeing the duel raised his voice. “Begin!”

Brody sneered as he advanced. “You’re either fearless or brain-dead. I won’t just kill you—I’ll rip you apart and make you regret even existing.”

Alfoy, still oozing arrogance, raised a hand. “Oh, really? I have something to show you first.”

Brody scowled. “What could a weakling like you possibly show me?”

Alfoy opened his palm to reveal a small rock. “This.”

“A rock? Is this some kind of joke?”

“T-that bastard... How the hell has he been living? Where did he learn something like that? Is that even magic? Huh? How is that magic?”

One of the elders stammered in response.

“Is working on a construction site the key to getting stronger?”

“Why is his mana control so good?”

“It felt like he was dual casting...”

Though Alfoy’s Circle hadn’t changed since his time at the Scarlet Tower, his combat power seemed to have multiplied. Yet, they couldn’t shake how crude his fighting style felt.

All of them came to the same conclusion:

‘That bastard must’ve learned from the Count of Fenris.’

The Fenris knights were rumored to fight rough, but who would have thought that philosophy extended to mages?

Alfoy had undoubtedly grown stronger, but no one wanted to emulate his methods.

As the disciples of the Scarlet Tower cheered, Alfoy snapped at them.

“Hey! You useless idiots! You call yourselves the best disciples of the North’s greatest tower? You couldn’t even muster the guts to fight these guys!”

The laughter stopped instantly. Even they felt embarrassed.

Alfoy continued with a smug expression.

“Have some confidence! These guys aren’t so tough when you actually fight them. Got it?”

The disciples nodded, clenching their fists in renewed determination.

A 3rd-Circle mage had defeated a 4th-Circle mage, and not just any 4th-Circle mage, but the direct disciple of Delmuth, the Crimson Tower’s master. Perhaps the Crimson Tower wasn’t as fearsome as they thought.

Satisfied, Alfoy smirked.

‘Whew, I’m glad I won. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have been able to talk so big.’

He thought it would’ve been cooler to say those words before the fight, but his cautious nature stopped him—what if he lost?

‘Either way, a win’s a win.’

He basked in the cheers as he returned to his seat.

“Well done, Alfoy.”

Hubert awkwardly smiled and patted Alfoy on the shoulder.

“Hmph.”

Alfoy turned his head with a pout. The more he thought about it, the angrier he became.

‘They let me rot at a construction site and then sent me into a duel like this?’

His frosty demeanor made Hubert even more nervous. Hubert hadn’t expected Alfoy to win and now felt guilty for neglecting him.

“Ahem, I suppose I haven’t been in touch much lately. That must’ve hurt your feelings.”

“Hmph.”

‘Not in touch’ was an understatement. Since the Fenris branch was established, Hubert hadn’t reached out even once. Thinking about it made Alfoy fume even more.

“Well, you know I’ve been busy, right? You know how busy I get?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Come on, don’t be like that.”

“I’m tired. I just fought, you know.”

The awkward tension between master and disciple lingered.

Meanwhile, the atmosphere on the Crimson Tower’s side had turned icy.

“That bastard...”

Delmuth’s eyes burned with murderous intent. His direct disciple had been slaughtered right in front of him. Such humiliation couldn’t be ignored.

Mana began surging ominously from Delmuth, his very presence suffocating those nearby. People instinctively stepped away, unable to bear the pressure.

Watching Delmuth’s fury, Hubert couldn’t help but smirk.

‘Our successor defeated yours!’

The fact that they had lost more overall didn’t matter. Winning the duel between successors was what truly counted. Hubert was already planning to spread the news far and wide.

Of course, he wasn’t foolish enough to provoke Delmuth outright—not yet.

Turning to Vanessa, he gave her a warm smile.

“Vanessa, take care not to get hurt, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Vanessa replied respectfully. Despite her equal rank as a 6th-Circle mage, she maintained her humble demeanor. After all, she was still a Scarlet Tower mage at heart.

When Vanessa stepped forward as the final participant, Hubert visibly relaxed.

‘Phew, no one in the Crimson Tower has a higher Circle than Vanessa. We’ll win this round too. Thanks to Alfoy, we’ve saved face.’

The elders and disciples shared similar thoughts, sighing in relief. But their faces soon paled as they saw who stepped forward.

“I will take the last match.”

Delmuth strode forward, radiating killing intent.

At the same time, Ghislain slowly rose from his seat.