The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations



"Stop them!"

At the command of the wall's commander, a rain of arrows darkened the sky.

Most were aimed at Ghislain, but some targeted the area just below the wall, meant to prevent others from climbing up. "Ughhh!"

Count Valesant recoiled in fear, clutching his head and crouching down. But the disaster he feared never came.

Bang! Tatatatatang!

The mercenaries huddled together, raising their shields to block the arrows. Thanks to enduring Ghislain's hellish training, they moved with the discipline of a regular army.

"Let's go."

As soon as the arrow barrage ceased, Julien murmured under his breath before launching himself forward. He scaled the wall without even using a grappling hook, climbing with just his bare hands.

"Uwaaaaaah!"

Kyle and Tyron followed right behind him, their battle cries echoing. The rest of the mercenaries shouted as they charged forward.

"A man like Osvald! I shall stand here and protect our allies!"

Osvald planted himself firmly beside Count Valesant, unmoving. With their numbers so much smaller than the enemy's, rushing into the fray was a terrifying thought.@@novelbin@@

Count Valesant turned to Osvald. Osvald turned to Count Valesant.

The moment their eyes met, both instinctively realized they were of the same breed. A strange yet knowing smile spread between them. Boom! Boom! Boom!

Meanwhile, Ghislain rampaged atop the wall, cutting through enemies without hesitation. The defenders, taken off guard by the sudden assault, fell into confusion.

"Stop him! Stop him now!"

The commander bellowed, his voice raw with desperation.

Knights and soldiers swarmed toward Ghislain, only to be knocked aside like ragdolls.

Most of the elite troops had followed the main force, leaving behind only lower-quality defenders.