The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 311: Chapter 310: It Was Truly a Magnificent Duel (1)



Gordon's novel was something Ghislain skimmed through casually, but a part of its content gave him a topic to ponder.

'Attacking without leaving any trace of presence, invisible even during the strike...'

This could work if there was a significant skill gap. However, according to Gordon's setting, it was more akin to a supernatural power rather than a matter of skill. In some ways, it was more dangerous than "a power that can destroy anything."

The thought alone was terrifying, but in reality, such a feat was impossible. It was purely a concept of the imagination.

'Even the saintess couldn't wield such power.'

Not even a saintess, who borrowed the goddess's power, could achieve such an absurd feat. Others might have dismissed it with a laugh, but for Ghislain, it sparked curiosity.

'If I were to encounter an enemy who could truly use such power, what would I do? Or, if I faced someone with a similar ability?'

In his previous life, he could have responded by extending his sensory domain to encompass his surroundings. But what if he couldn't sense the attack in time?

Even if such powers didn't exist in the world, facing someone stronger might lead to a similar situation.

'I need to find a way to survive an instant-kill attack and counter attack.'

To avoid instant death, a body capable of withstanding any attack was necessary.

Those who trained in mana naturally developed enhanced physical abilities. Their bodies adapted to absorb mana through training, gradually changing their constitution.

As one advanced, their senses sharpened, and their strength and recovery abilities increased exponentially.

Still, a person's body didn't become as hard as steel. Knights didn't practice mana cultivation techniques, gathering mana, and covering their bodies with it during battle, for no reason.

To unleash greater power, mana must be actively drawn from the core and circulated through the body. Without proper mana manipulation, defensive capabilities dropped significantly. Even those skilled in mana could be injured by an ordinary attack if caught off guard. Assassinations sometimes succeeded due to this vulnerability. Even against someone trained in mana, a well-placed strike could cause critical damage.

'But what if my body could automatically block attacks and even shock the enemy in return?'

At the very least, he wouldn't be caught off guard by enemies equal to or weaker than him. It would also be advantageous in chaotic battles involving many opponents.

No matter how many weaklings attacked, they wouldn't be able to inflict even a scratch.

If he could create such a body, he would become far stronger than he was now.

"Let's try it."

There were several ways to develop a new technique.

The most standard method involved extensive research to formulate a theory, followed by countless experiments to ensure safety.

The second method was to recklessly dive into the practice, risking one's life. While dangerous, it was much faster.

Ghislain preferred the latter.

Whoosh.

He drew a dagger and immediately stabbed his arm.

Thud!

Blood spurted from the wound where the blade sank in. Mana had instinctively gathered to produce weak repulsion, but it wasn't enough.

The attack was simply too strong and too fast.

"Too slow, and insufficient.'

The body needed to react before the mind could even register the attack. The moment the skin was cut, mana had to automatically surge from the core to protect the body.

This was the first stage. Counterattacks would come later.

Swish...

Since the wound was shallow, it quickly healed.

Ghislain sharpened his senses to their limit. His body needed to remember what he was about to do.

Even in his previous life, he had sustained countless wounds, but he had never attempted such a brute-force method of training. Instead, he had focused more on evasion and defense.

But things are different now. He needed to evolve his body itself.

'Let's apply more force.'

Slash, slash, slash!

He moved the dagger quickly, inflicting multiple wounds across his body, focusing his senses on the areas around the injuries.

The amount of mana gathering at each wound varied slightly. As he progressed, the wounds became incrementally larger.

This indicated that his body's response speed wasn't keeping up with the speed of the attacks.

'I'll need a few more days.'

There was no need to visit the training grounds for this. Ghislain alternated between fieldwork and training during the day, and paperwork and self-inflicted wounds in his office

at night.

His clothes were constantly torn, soaked in blood, and in shambles. After a few days of this, Belinda began to grow suspicious.

'What's going on? Even on days without sparring, it's like this.'

Everyone knew Ghislain was a training enthusiast. No one found his frequently ruined clothes unusual, but lately, things seemed off.

As Belinda grew more suspicious, Ghislain's training became increasingly intense.

'Am I hesitating unconsciously?'

With daily self-inflicted wounds, his senses had developed to a level incomparable to before. Even when he made deep cuts, mana gathered instantly, leaving only shallow wounds.

But his response speed had reached a plateau and wasn't improving further.

It seemed his attacks had hit their own limit.

Because his body hadn't fully adapted yet, his strikes remained at the level of a novice knight. His body instinctively recognized this, preventing him from surpassing that limit.

Ghislain knew exactly how to overcome this problem.

"To break through the limit, I must truly risk my life.'

Narrowing his eyes, he stared at the dagger for a moment, then infused it with mana.

He couldn't afford to actually die, but his body and mind needed the tension of knowing death

was possible.

"This should do...'

Sweat began to bead on Ghislain's back. A single mistake or delayed reaction would be fatal.

He had no intention of artificially drawing mana to defend himself. The moment the blade struck, his body had to act on its own to ensure survival.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly raised the dagger.

Just then, Belinda, who had been suspicious for days, burst into Ghislain's office.

Click!

"Young master! What are you doing every night to end up with your clothes like-

KYAAAAAA!"

Belinda screamed in shock the moment she entered.

What she saw was...

Ghislain driving a dagger into his own heart.

***

'A partial success.'

Lying in bed, Ghislain reflected.

The dagger had pierced halfway into his heart. A little deeper, and his heart would have been

completely destroyed, killing him.

But the rapidly gathered mana had stopped the blade. His exceptional regenerative abilities began healing the damaged heart almost immediately.

Even so, external wounds and internal injuries were different. The sudden severe injury and significant blood loss made recovery slow.

Had Piote arrived even a little later, he wouldn't have died but would likely have suffered

serious aftereffects.

"Young master! Why are you doing this again?! Is it because you met Miss Amelia recently? Do you miss her? You've become the great lord-what more could you want to still dwell on a past love? Just settle down, find a spouse, and lead a stable life already!"

"...It's not that."

"Then what is it? Is it because of another one of those bets? Are you scared you might actually

lose this time? I swear, I'm so sick of the head butler and Alpoi!"

"...It's not that either."

Ghislain looked around. As expected, the estate's retainers had all gathered. He should've

known.

Claude, as usual, squeezed his way through the crowd, his face annoyed.

"You're just doing this to make me look bad again, aren't you? If you think you can't win, just

forfeit! What's with this stubborn pride?"

"...It's not that."

Ghislain's indifferent response only made Claude shout in frustration.

"Everyone just blames me! They say it's my fault the lord's causing another scene because of

the bet! Are you really going to use your popularity against me like this? Do you want to drive

me mad?"

From the side, Alpoi muttered grumpily, "Fine, let's call it a draw and shave ten years off my sentence. And stop being so stubborn, will you? Don't you know how much trouble this causes me? Me! The man who defeated a god! Ugh, so embarrassing."

Claude and Alpoi were once again under pressure from the vassals, accused of provoking the

lord into chaos.

The last time Ghislain drank poison, they were shocked but later understood it as training. But stabbing his own heart? That was something no one could call training.

What kind of idiot would attempt such a ridiculous method?

Everyone believed that this time, the prideful lord, Ghislain, had been so overwhelmed by his

temper that he had resorted to self-harm.

Ghislain, briefly debating whether to simply chase them all away, sighed and decided to give a

bit of an explanation. Even he could admit that this time, their persistent intervention was

justified.

"It's a new training method. It's dangerous, but I'm moderating it properly, so there's no

need to worry."

Belinda, still looking skeptical, asked, "What kind of training is that? Who in the world trains

like this? How is this supposed to help?"

"Well, it's, uh..." Ghislain roughly explained his hypothesis. It was more of a conjecture and imaginative reasoning than a detailed theory, but the intent was conveyed.

After listening, the onlookers blinked in silence for a while. Finally, Belinda, with an incredulous expression, said, "So... you're training like this because you're afraid of dying to some invisible opponent who leaves no trace?"

"Well, not exactly... I'd say I got inspired by the idea."

"... Young master, sensing someone's presence is just a matter of skill. There's no such thing as an invisible creature with no presence."

Vanessa chimed in from the side, "That doesn't make sense within the laws of physics. Not

even with magic. To accelerate an object from rest to a certain speed, there's an energy requirement. Any object with mass would-"

Before Vanessa could dive into her full lecture mode, Ghislain hurriedly cut her off.

"That's not the point! This is about strengthening my defenses in case I'm ambushed. Stop worrying and get back to work. Aren't you all busy?"

Despite their protests that Ghislain was already strong enough and didn't need such training,

he remained immovable.

Finally, Claude shrugged and said, "See? I tried to convince him. The lord refused."

Alpoi nodded beside him.

"I also conceded. It's not my fault."

Both men, having been scolded by various people yet again, withdrew with triumphant

expressions.

This incident quickly spread among the estate's residents.

The people were shocked and once again retrieved their portraits of Claude and Alpoi to stab

them in effigy.

"Why is the head butler so desperate to torment our lord?! The lord's going to win anyway

this time, just like always!"

"We need to tell the saintess to call divine punishment on them!"

"Alpoi is just as bad! How dare he act rudely to the saint too?!"

Claude and Alpoi's reputations hit rock bottom. To be precise, they had already been at rock

bottom, so now they'd plunged into the depths below.

The people's loyalty to Ghislain was immense. Believing firmly in his victory, they mocked

Claude and Alpoi.

But unlike before, the two men had grown stronger. No matter how much they were cursed or ridiculed, they didn't so much as flinch.

"I hear there are a lot of people badmouthing us."

"It's the limit of their ignorant minds."

Claude and Alpoi stood on the castle balcony, each holding a glass of wine.

As he sipped his wine gracefully, Claude said, "What will you do once you're free, Alpoi?"

"I'll finish my successor training for the magic tower, then inherit the tower. Under my leadership, the tower will reclaim its place as the best in the North."

"As expected of an ambitious man. Very fitting for the man who defeated a goddess."

"What about you? What will you do?"

"I'm thinking of becoming the lord of a small estate."

"A choice befitting your integrity. Living a peaceful, carefree life isn't a bad idea."

"Right, I've worked hard enough to deserve it."

The two exchanged relaxed smiles, understanding each other without needing to say much.

Claude raised his glass and said, "You'll make a great tower lord."

Alpoi raised his glass in return. "And you'll make a fine lord." They clinked their glasses with a smile.

Watching this scene from behind, Wendy pulled a sour face and sneered at the pair.

***n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Aside from Ghislain's self-harm incident, life on the estate remained largely unchanged.

Despite everyone's efforts to dissuade him, Ghislain continued his strange training.

In the blink of an eye, a month had passed.

Whoosh.

Two days before the appointed date, it began to rain. Watching the rain pour down, Claude

smiled.

"The weather is perfect."

Heavy rain would turn the ground muddy. Moving on such terrain would consume more

stamina. The test participants would undoubtedly struggle to even move during the mock

battles.

The situation naturally brought a smile to his face.

"Two more days..."

Claude closed his eyes and calmed his mind.

The day before the final showdown.

The sound of wind and eerie rain lashed against the office windows.

The calm before the storm.

Claude didn't argue with the estate's residents, who mocked him and continued to do so.

Whether the lord was incompetent or he was, the results would speak for themselves. That was the way of life for Claude, the 'Gambler.'

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