The Regressed Mercenary's Machinations

Chapter 353

No one can remember the future. Yet in Ghislain's mind, such memories lingered vividly.

It was absurd, but if anyone could make sense of such impossibilities, it was Ghislain—a man mad enough to render the impossible plausible.

The spirit had encountered madmen before. Such people often distorted their own memories, believing events that never happened to be real.

However, Ghislain’s memories were different. They were clear, sharp, and detailed—nothing like the hazy, inconsistent fabrications of lunatics.

Still, the spirit chose to believe this explanation. If not, the situation was too incomprehensible to grasp.

For now, I’ll play along. But when the opportunity arises, I’ll take this body for myself.

Despite Ghislain’s insanity, his strength was undeniable. The spirit had never inhabited a body as powerful as this.

It wanted that strength for itself, but it was an impossible goal. No one with a will as sharpened by decades of rage as Ghislain’s could lose control of their body.

Unless his mind completely broke.

Then again, maybe that’s what makes it even harder—he’s already insane.

There was no reasoning with madmen.

While it coveted Ghislain’s body, the spirit also found itself increasingly curious about him. When the time was right, it planned to ask what those memories truly meant.

As Ghislain tested his newly gained powers, he addressed the spirit.

“I should give you a name. What do you think I should call you?”

The spirit had been given a name in its past life—one bestowed by the Duke’s faction—but Ghislain wanted to give it a new one. A name that symbolized its new place under his command.

After pondering for a moment, the spirit spoke from within his mind.

— How about Dark Fire Dragon?

“...”

Ghislain blinked, unimpressed. Clearly, the spirit had a flair for the dramatic.

“How about just Dark?”

— But I like long names...

“Don’t argue. Come out here.”

— Come out? How?

“If you use my mana, you should be able to form a physical body.”

— Oh... oh! Really? Let’s try!

With Ghislain’s permission, black smoke began coalescing in front of him. Slowly, the smoke took the form of a person, shimmering faintly.

Using Ghislain’s mana as a foundation, the spirit had manifested a corporeal body.

Hehehe!

Its smoky form was humanoid, with only its glowing eyes providing any clear features.

Dark chuckled, twisting and stretching its new body. It instinctively understood its capabilities now, but the weak vessels it had inhabited before had never provided enough mana to manifest physically.

“Not bad,” Dark said with a grin. “Master.”

The term “master” rolled off its tongue without hesitation. Having resigned itself to servitude, it wasn’t particularly bothered by pride.

As Dark inspected its new body, it asked, “Can I use a bit more mana?”

“What for?”

“To mimic that guy.”

Dark gestured toward Arel, who still stood frozen in shock at the unfolding scene.

“Go ahead.”

Shhhhh...

A surge of mana flowed from Ghislain into Dark, allowing it to reshape its form.

Eyes, a nose, a mouth—features began to take shape. Even the clothing materialized to perfectly mirror Arel’s. It was as if a doppelgänger had appeared.

A moment later, another “Arel” stood in the room. But while their appearances were identical, their expressions were not.

The real Arel radiated a sense of determination and resolve. The copy, however, exuded slyness and malice, creating a stark contrast despite their shared features.

“Ah!”

Arel recoiled in shock, stumbling backward at the sight of his double. Meanwhile, Dark flexed its fingers, still wearing a mischievous grin.

“Hmm... not bad. Feels almost like freedom.”

Dark’s body, formed from Ghislain’s mana and its own abilities, was a temporary construct. The mana gradually dissipated into the air, meaning the body would vanish once the energy was depleted.

The spirit’s consciousness remained tethered to Ghislain, merely piloting this duplicate rather than fully inhabiting it. Still, the illusion of independence was exhilarating.

Ghislain examined himself and clicked his tongue.

“It’s not very efficient. Come back inside.”

Creating Dark’s body had consumed a significant amount of mana. Despite the cost, the ability to create and control independent bodies was highly practical and would undoubtedly prove useful in the future.

Ghislain maintained his calm, soft smile.

“After being possessed by the spirit for so long, it’s natural for the young master’s mind to still be clouded. A few days of rest should help him recover fully.”

As he spoke, Ghislain casually clenched and unclenched his fists, throwing a sharp glance at Edwin.

Edwin froze, snapping his mouth shut.

He realized that this man had obliterated the tower’s ceiling in an instant and subdued a malevolent spirit. Any rash actions could spell death for everyone present.

Watching Edwin’s awareness settle in, Ghislain’s voice softened.

“Young Master Edwin, are you feeling more clear-headed now?”

“Y-Yes, yes.”

Edwin nodded fervently, determined to stay in Ghislain’s good graces.

Ghislain approached and patted him lightly on the shoulder.

“Good. The spirit is gone now, so I suggest you listen to your father, live virtuously, and most importantly, quietly. Because if there’s another incident like this...”

Ghislain leaned in, emphasizing the word “quietly,” and Edwin trembled, nodding again.

With matters seemingly resolved, Ghislain turned to Count Mowbray with his signature smile.

“The young master just needs some rest to recover. Now, about my reward...”

“R-Reward? Oh, yes, of course! Guards, take Edwin to his room at once!”

Though no formal discussion had occurred, Ghislain had resolved one of the most troublesome issues for the Mowbray estate. As a noble, Count Mowbray was obligated to provide a fitting reward.

Freed from his chains, Edwin was overcome with emotion. His father, teary-eyed, embraced him tightly.

“I’m sorry, my son. I failed you.”

“F-Father...”

“I promise I won’t be so harsh on you anymore.”

“I-I’m sorry too. I was... weak...”

“No, no. Don’t think like that. Weakness isn’t a crime. We all grow stronger at our own pace. I was wrong to expect so much so quickly.”

Tears streamed down Edwin’s face as he clung to his father. For so long, he had longed for such warmth.

He now understood that his rebellion stemmed from an inability to bear the weight of expectations.

His father’s sternness had only been born from a desire to raise a capable heir.

Compared to the beatings he had endured at the hands of that demon, his previous life had been almost comfortable.

“Sob... I’m sorry... for being so weak...”

“You’re not weak.”

Count Mowbray’s voice quivered, and he patted Edwin’s back repeatedly, tears glistening in his eyes. He was simply grateful to have his son back.

The guilt and sorrow he had carried since Edwin’s madness had been unbearable. Now, seeing Edwin return to normal, he silently vowed never to repeat his mistakes.

Ghislain watched the touching reunion with a satisfied smile.

Family should always cherish one another like this.

After their heartfelt reconciliation, Edwin was escorted from the tower with the help of the soldiers.

“Now then, Baron Dugley,” Ghislain said, turning to Count Mowbray, “shall we continue our discussion?”

The count nodded, leading Ghislain to a quieter space. Arel, still shell-shocked, trailed behind them.

Once they were seated, Count Mowbray spoke directly.

“I am truly grateful. Tell me, Baron Dugley, what reward would you like? Name anything within my power, and I shall grant it.”

“What I want is something significant. Are you sure you can provide it?”

Count Mowbray’s confidence swelled.

This was the resource-rich South, and he was one of its most powerful lords. With wealth and troops at his disposal, he had managed to maintain neutrality between the Royalist and Ducal factions.

Count Mowbray was also a meticulous administrator, renowned for his well-managed estate. His strict approach extended even to his dealings with his vassals, making it nearly impossible for the Duke’s faction to sway them.

Puffing his chest, Count Mowbray replied boldly.

“I’ve never heard of a Baron Dugley. Are you a landless noble? If so, I shall grant you an estate of your own.”

It was an extraordinary offer, one that few lords could make.

But Ghislain merely shook his head with a smile.

“I don’t need wealth or land. What I need is your strength.”

“My strength?”

Ghislain’s expression turned serious as he locked eyes with the count.

“Join the Royalist faction. Stand beneath the banner of the Crown and fight against the Duke’s forces.”

Count Mowbray’s face instantly hardened.