The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations



Boom! Crack!

A fierce aura surged around Ghislain, radiating outward with overwhelming force. The sheer pressure shattered the stone floor beneath his feet. Several knights and soldiers scrambled to pursue him, but the moment they stepped into the grand hall, they faltered.

"Urgh..."@@novelbin@@

"W-What is this...?"

They clutched at their throats, gasping for air, struggling to keep their focus on Ghislain. Even breathing in this space had become an ordeal. The sheer intensity of his presence was suffocating.

"Kgh..."

Marquis Falkenheim clenched his teeth and bowed his head, his body trembling under the crushing weight of the pressure bearing down on him. Yet, even worse than the physical strain was the humiliation.

"This... damn... bastard..."

To be humiliated by a mere mercenary.

One of the knights beside the marquis took a step forward, his sword drawn.

Boom!

"Urgh...!"

Unlike the others, he withstood the overwhelming force pressing down on him. He was burning through his very life force to resist.

It wasn't out of loyalty or sheer determination-

It was the primal instinct of the weak, struggling to survive.

"AAAAHHHH!"

With a desperate roar, the knight shattered his own limits, pushing past his body's constraints. Boom!

His mana and life force erupted like a storm, his hair turning stark white in an instant. The surge of power briefly elevated him beyond his natural abilities.

Boom!

He charged, slicing through the intangible pressure suffocating the hall, his sword radiating with an eerie blue light, brimming with raw energy. Ghislain did not evade.

Instead, he twisted his body slightly, drawing his right fist back.

Clench.

His teeth ground together as he concentrated his magic into his fist. Then, as the blade approached-

He punched straight at the sword.