The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations

Chapter 354

“Join the Royalist faction... and fight against the Duke’s forces?”

Count Mowbray’s heavy words hung in the air, and Ghislain nodded without hesitation.

“That’s correct. That’s my request.”

“...”

The count fixed Ghislain with a long, searching gaze before letting out a deep sigh.

“Are you here on behalf of the Royalists? Did the Marquis of Branford send you?”

“Something like that. The marquis didn’t send me directly, though.”

“To demand my family and estate in exchange for saving my son is no small thing. I can’t agree to this.”

Count Mowbray had his reasons for remaining neutral, despite being a noble of the South. Chief among them was his refusal to lend support to treason.

He had declared neutrality, a position he could afford thanks to his considerable strength. Neither the Royalists nor the Ducal faction saw much benefit in attacking him, as it would be a waste of resources.

However, aligning with one side would change everything. It would ensure the other faction would move to crush him.

“I cannot fight the Duke’s forces.”

Even with all his power, Count Mowbray knew he couldn’t match the Duke. Taking such a stance would spell doom for his estate, rendering his efforts to save Edwin meaningless.

“I’m sorry, but I trust you’ll understand my position. Instead, perhaps I could reward you in another way?”

Though he couldn’t fulfill Ghislain’s initial request, Count Mowbray couldn’t let the man who saved his son leave empty-handed. Nobles were bound by honor to repay such debts.

Ghislain nodded at the count’s measured response. He had expected this reaction.

“In that case, I have another request.”

“What is it?”

“First, continue maintaining your neutrality.”

“Of course. I have no intention of becoming a traitor.”

“The second request... is that you open your land to me when the time comes.”

“Open my land?”

The count tilted his head, puzzled. It was an odd request.

Ghislain chuckled softly and reached up, peeling away his beard and removing his wig. His true face revealed, Count Mowbray’s eyes widened in shock.

“Who... who are you? Why the disguise?”

“I am Count Ghislain of Fenris.”

“...”

The count’s stunned silence stretched on as he processed the revelation.

Recently, the kingdom had been rife with rumors about Count Ghislain of Fenris.

A man who had overthrown the powerful Count Desmond of the North to claim dominance there.

A man who had openly opposed the Duke’s faction, becoming a force to be reckoned with.

The idea that such a figure would appear here, in the South, was enough to make Count Mowbray’s head spin.

“Are you truly Count Ghislain of Fenris?”

“I am.”

It took a long moment for the count to calm himself before he gave a stiff nod.

“So, the rumors about you curing the Marquis of Branford’s daughter and creating those famous cosmetics weren’t entirely baseless after all.”

Count Mowbray adjusted his posture, his tone shifting to one of cautious respect.

“There must be a reason you’ve revealed your identity to me. What do you mean by opening my land to you?”

“The conflict between the Royalist and Ducal factions will inevitably lead to civil war.”

“I know. The tension grows worse by the day.”

“When the time comes for me to strike against the Duke’s forces, I intend to bypass their defenses by marching through your lands. That’s what I’m asking for.”

“...”

Count Mowbray finally understood Ghislain’s intention.

Situated on the edge of the South, his estate was ideally positioned to bypass the Duke’s defenses and launch a direct assault. By using Mowbray’s lands as a route, Ghislain could avoid heavily fortified regions and strike deep into enemy territory.

It was a bold and risky military strategy. A single word from Count Mowbray could doom it to failure.

Even if the count stayed silent, the plan’s success was uncertain. For Ghislain to even reach this far south, he would need to overcome countless obstacles.

“Hmm... True, that.”

Count Mowbray conceded, though he was reluctant to see Ghislain leave so soon.

Ghislain stayed only three days, preparing for his departure.

During this time, as Ghislain and Arel were finalizing their arrangements, the sound of Count Mowbray’s angry voice echoed through the castle.

“You fool! How could you already forget what you’ve been taught? Do you even think about what’ll happen later?”

“Please, just stop! I’m still recovering!”

“Are you defying your father now?”

“I won’t just sit and take it anymore!”

“What? You’ve grown bold after being possessed, haven’t you?”

“So what if I have?”

Hearing the heated argument in the distance, Arel stared blankly, while Ghislain chuckled and shook his head.

“The Red Tower is... moving more aggressively?”

At the topmost floor of a towering spire, a middle-aged man sat in the highest seat. Despite his gaunt frame, his piercing gaze exuded a menacing intensity.

“Yes, their influence is expanding rapidly. It seems they’ve acquired a large quantity of rune stones,” said Glenn cautiously.

Though once humiliated by Ghislain during a food negotiation, Glenn remained a respected elder of the Crimson Tower, renowned for his skill.

The man he reported to was Delmuth, the tower lord and a formidable 7th-circle mage.

Delmuth turned his gaze to the three other elders seated nearby and spoke.

“There’s no way they obtained so many rune stones by normal means. We’ve already secured all rune stones sold by the northern trade caravans. What’s your assessment?”

“It’s likely Count Ghislain of Fenris provided them,” one elder replied hesitantly.

“Fenris... Count Ghislain...”

Delmuth muttered the name several times, his eyes narrowing sharply.

That man had become a constant thorn in his side. It was Ghislain’s rise that had led to Count Desmond’s death and severed the Crimson Tower’s northern support.

Though the Ducal faction had stepped in to provide supplies, transporting resources from the South to the North was no easy task.

Delmuth had spent years orchestrating the Red Tower’s downfall, and it had nearly come to fruition.

But the tide had turned. The Red Tower was not only recovering but expanding rapidly.

Sales of magic tools, scrolls, and potions had surged, and some nobles who had favored the Crimson Tower were now returning to the Red Tower.

Despite their earlier decline, the Red Tower’s deep-rooted connections and prestige were proving difficult to erase.

“Have they been recruiting more mages as well?”

“Yes. They’re advertising their surplus of rune stones to attract freelance mages.”

“And they’re closely aligned with Fenris?”

“Indeed. The Red Tower even has a branch in Fenris, with its successor serving as the branch leader.”

“I see... So that upstart from Fenris is clearly aiding the Red Tower. But where is he getting such a large supply of rune stones?”

“Rumors suggest... they’ve been mining them from the Beast Forest.”

The truth of the Red Tower’s rune stone supply had begun to spread, as the operation to clear paths and claim territory in the Beast Forest had involved countless laborers.

Even with this explanation, Delmuth’s suspicions lingered.

“The Beast Forest... So that’s where they’re coming from. No wonder the Ducal faction targeted it.”

Though the Duke’s faction hadn’t disclosed their reasons for coveting the forest, the abundant resources emerging from it now offered a possible explanation.

With a dark expression, Delmuth gritted his teeth.

“Since Desmond’s defeat, we can no longer outmatch the Red Tower financially.”

Ghislain’s support had turned the Red Tower into a financial powerhouse, while the Crimson Tower’s resources dwindled.

Trade guilds were gradually realigning with the Red Tower, making any monetary competition futile.

“This won’t do. We need to eliminate the Red Tower to secure our position in the coming civil war.”

Though currently weaker, the Red Tower still boasted a larger network and mage population. If allowed to recover fully, it could easily outpace the Crimson Tower.

“Other than waiting for the war, what options do we have?” one elder asked cautiously.

Delmuth’s response was chilling.

“There’s only one option: force their hand. Request a mage exchange conference. I’ll find an opening to eliminate them myself.”

His words were laced with icy determination, and his eyes gleamed with a murderous light.