The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations (light Novel)

Ghislain spoke with a faintly reluctant expression.
“Well, I suppose… Fine, go ahead…”

After Julien dismounted, Alfoy approached the white horse.
Alfoy desperately wanted this magnificent horse. Someone as great as him, a supreme magician, deserved such a steed.
Snort!

As Alfoy drew closer, the horse’s eyes turned fierce again, radiating anger and even a hint of murderous intent, as if to say, How dare someone like you approach me?
The crowd exchanged knowing looks. It was obvious that someone like Alfoy couldn’t possibly tame such a majestic horse.
Alfoy swallowed nervously, then stood before the horse and opened his mouth.

“I am the man who defeated a god!”
Snort?
“Therefore, I am undoubtedly the greatest man in the world!”

Snort?
“You are the finest horse, are you not? Then, of course, you should serve me, the greatest man alive!”
Snort?

“After all, I am the only one who has ever bested a god!”
The horse simply stared at him blankly as Alfoy continued boasting about his greatness.
The crowd erupted in laughter, mockery etched on their faces.

“Hahaha! There he goes again with his ridiculous bragging!”
“Does he think a horse understands that nonsense?”
“How long is he going to milk that story?”
No one could deny that Alfoy’s overconfidence and lack of self-awareness were something to behold.
Unfazed by the ridicule, Alfoy passionately pitched himself to the horse. He was, after all, the greatest man alive, the man who had defeated a god.

Snort…
But then, the horse’s demeanor changed.
The fiery hostility disappeared, and its eyes seemed to glisten, almost as if tears were forming.
The horse could sense it.

The man standing before it was utterly insignificant. Having roamed battlefields alongside Aiden, a peerless warrior, the horse could discern true strength.
Yet, there was something in this man’s arrogant demeanor and self-assured gaze… something uncannily reminiscent of its former master.
The horse realized: this was a man who genuinely believed in his own unmatched greatness.

Snort…
The horse slowly approached Alfoy and nuzzled its face against his chest. It wasn’t surrendering—it was an act filled with nostalgia and bittersweet affection.
Soon after, the horse knelt and allowed Alfoy to mount it.

The laughter died as the crowd’s expressions turned to shock, their mouths hanging open.
“Why… Why him?”
“Is this horse insane?”
“This doesn’t make any sense!”
This was the same horse that knights and even superhumans had failed to tame. Only Julien had succeeded, and now someone like Alfoy managed it?

And it wasn’t just that Alfoy had tamed the horse. The animal seemed unusually affectionate, even nuzzling its head against him.
The horse’s eyes told the full story—they glistened with warmth, almost dripping with fondness.
Sitting atop the horse, Alfoy raised his head with an arrogant smirk. The horse mimicked him, lifting its head with equal pride.

Man and beast radiated an air of unparalleled arrogance.
Alfoy proclaimed triumphantly, “See? This horse knows how incredible I am! From now on, it belongs to me!”
Neigh!

The horse let out a long cry as if agreeing with him.
Alfoy patted the horse’s neck and continued, “Ah, how beautiful. The greatest horse should be with the greatest man. From now on, your name is Kkokko.”
Previously, Alfoy had owned a chicken named Kkokko, which had escaped its pen and vanished—likely eaten by someone.

The prime suspects were Cain and Galbaric.
Now, Alfoy bestowed the name, brimming with fond memories, upon the white horse.
Neigh!

Whether or not the horse liked the name was unclear, but it responded nonetheless.
The crowd fell silent. All eyes turned to Ghislain.
“…”

Ghislain stood with his arms crossed, blinking in disbelief. That Alfoy, of all people, could tame this magnificent horse…
And not just any horse—it had been the steed of Aiden, one «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» of the continent’s mightiest warriors.
Now that I think about it… his personality is a lot like Aiden’s, Ghislain mused.

Both were insufferably full of themselves. Their excessive self-love and obsession with honor were eerily similar.
It was no wonder the arrogant horse found Alfoy appealing.
Regardless, a promise was a promise. Having mounted the horse, Alfoy was now entitled to claim it.

“Well, uh… I suppose there are two claimants. Should we settle this with a duel?”
At that, Alfoy’s face turned pale. If it came to a duel, Julien could sever his head with a mere flick of his finger.
In a panic, Alfoy shouted, “Why duel? Let Kkokko decide!”

Alfoy was confident. For some inexplicable reason, the horse seemed to adore him.
All eyes turned to Julien.
Julien shook his head and said, “I don’t care much for horses.”

Any horse Julien rode would be elevated to the level of a legendary steed. With someone eager to take the horse, Julien had no desire to contest it.
Thanks to Julien’s gracious forfeit, the white horse truly became Alfoy’s.
Ghislain, still blinking in disbelief, addressed the crowd.

“Well… thanks to Julien’s generosity, Kkokko now belongs to… Alfoy.”
“Hurrah!”
Neigh!

Alfoy raised his arms and let out a triumphant shout. Kkokko neighed jubilantly in response.
The crowd, though reluctant, could only acknowledge the outcome.
The white horse’s competition was over, and Alfoy hurried over to Belinda.

“Hey, get me a new robe!” he demanded.
The crimson robe Alfoy wore was threadbare and shabby, having seen far too much wear.
Despite Belinda’s repeated efforts to provide replacements, Alfoy’s relentless dedication to construction projects ensured his robes wore out quickly.

“Fine. I’ll get you a new one when we return to the estate.”
“Make it white! Something fancy!”
“White? It’ll get dirty too easily. Besides, the Scarlet Tower robes aren’t white.”

“That’s fine! I’ll only wear it for special occasions. I just want it to match Kkokko’s color!”
“...Alright…”
Belinda nodded reluctantly. Alfoy had contributed significantly to Fenris’s success, so a high-quality white robe wasn’t an unreasonable request.

With the promise of a new robe secured, Alfoy climbed atop Kkokko and shouted, “From now on, I am Alfoy the White, conqueror of gods!”
Neigh!
Alfoy and Kkokko cried out in unison. The rest of the crowd simply ignored them and began preparing to march.

Those who had failed to claim the horse glared enviously at Alfoy whenever they saw him.
First the dragon heart, and now this. That lucky magician seems to get all the best things.
***

Back in the Sardina Kingdom, Ghislain convened a meeting to discuss the handling of post-war affairs.
The first issue at hand was addressing the remaining rebel forces and remnants of the Salvation Order in a few smaller kingdoms.
Most of the Salvation Order's primary priests and military forces had been annihilated in the war. The few stragglers who hadn’t been summoned to the battlefield could be dealt with easily.

However, tracking down the missing Gatros was deemed a more pressing matter.
“We’ll assemble armies and dispatch reinforcements to various regions.”
The Allied Forces were to be reorganized, with new units formed to eliminate these remnants. These forces would consist of strong leaders and soldiers to expedite the process.

It was a straightforward task, so no one voiced objections. Everyone wanted to finish this business quickly and return to their kingdoms.
Ghislain murmured as he reviewed a report.
“Julien, Gillian, Tenant, Marquis Gideon, Marquis Aldred…”

Leaders and nobles with proven skills in both command and combat were selected to head these operations. They would disperse across the continent to root out the remnants of the Salvation Order.
Ghislain frowned slightly, pouting as he set down the report.
“I said I wanted to go too. Why is everyone trying to stop me?”

Claude snapped, exasperation clear in his voice.
“Because if you leave now, everything here will fall apart! Only weaklings are left anyway, so why bother going?”
“I just want to stretch my legs. It’s been days since I fought, and I’m getting restless.”

“For the love of—if you need exercise, just do push-ups here!”
As Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces, Ghislain couldn’t simply abandon his duties during such a critical phase of post-war recovery. Without him to guide decisions, everything would grind to a halt.
When Ghislain proposed going off to fight again, everyone begged him to stay. Even someone as formidable as Ghislain had to relent when the entire Allied Forces opposed him.

This wasn’t about necessity; Ghislain simply wanted to fight for fun.
Claude, knowing this all too well, was practically tearing his hair out.
“We have mountains of work to do! There are multiple kingdoms that have collapsed! Supplies need to be distributed! There are still Rift zones to stabilize! We need to install anti-expansion magic circles! Reconstruction efforts are piling up! There’s too much to do!”

“You can handle it,” Ghislain said matter-of-factly.
Since when had he ever dealt with such tasks himself? Claude had always managed them anyway.
Ghislain’s role was to set the direction, wasn’t it?

Claude grabbed his head in frustration and shouted, “I can’t do it all alone!”
In Ruthania, Claude could handle everything himself by sheer force. But now, this involved the entire Allied Forces, with the interests of countless kingdoms and nobles at stake.
The most influential figures from all these nations were present. Even with Ghislain’s authority behind him, Claude couldn’t handle this alone.

“Listen! I could do it if I had to, sure. Everyone’s too scared of you to disobey me. But do you think there won’t be complaints afterward?”
“There will, of course. People are never satisfied. You’re proof of that.”
“Exactly! And that’s the problem! Just like me!”

The kingdoms wouldn’t dare challenge Ruthania directly, but unresolved grievances could lead to conflicts among themselves.
Such disputes could erupt across the continent, and with Gatros still alive, that chaos couldn’t be allowed to happen.
Ghislain needed to remain, mediating and enforcing decisions to ensure that dissatisfaction didn’t boil over into action.

Ghislain clicked his tongue, visibly disappointed. He knew full well he wasn’t in a position to head out to battle right now.
“Ah, if only Amelia were here. Things would be so much simpler.”
With so many kingdoms destroyed, countless territories and treasures now lacked owners. The spoils of war were vast.

While Ruthania had borne the brunt of the fighting, many other kingdoms had also contributed and made sacrifices. Dividing these spoils fairly was now the most critical task.
If Amelia were here, she would have coldly calculated contributions and distributed the rewards accordingly.
“Or maybe she would’ve just quietly eliminated the troublemakers and taken the largest share herself,” Ghislain thought, chuckling softly.

He asked Claude about Amelia’s whereabouts.
Claude flipped through a report and replied, “Actually, we’ve received word from her. She’s requesting the promised supplies and said the relocation process will begin soon.”
“Looks like she succeeded.”

“Yes. She eradicated the rebels and the Salvation Order in the Norvagen Kingdom and claimed the territory. She’s planning to hold her coronation soon.”
“Casualties?”
“Minimal. She lured the superhuman priests into traps and beat them to death. While seizing the kingdom, she also dealt with remnants in neighboring regions. Honestly, it’s impressive—she managed to seize an entire kingdom.”

“Well, she’s capable of that. Send her the supplies she requested, and assist with relocating her people. Thanks to Amelia, we’ve dealt with a good number of the remnants.”
Amelia, as promised, had left Ruthania to claim the ruins of a fallen kingdom.
She was now preparing to return all her Ruthanian lands and relocate the people and resources that wished to follow her.

Once Ghislain provided the supplies Amelia needed to stabilize her new kingdom, their agreement would be complete.
Other tasks, like sending aid to struggling kingdoms, were handled swiftly. The remaining challenge was dividing the spoils of war.
Ghislain and Claude began drafting an initial plan.

“The Ceyron Kingdom will go to Ruthania. No objections, right?”
Claude had taken the kingdom under the pretext of rebellion. There were no protests regarding this.
But it didn’t stop there.

Even lands belonging to intact kingdoms that bordered Ruthania were being claimed.
“I’ve worked hard and provided a lot of support, so I think this much is only fair,” Claude declared.
The kingdoms bordering Ruthania erupted in outrage. They had fought side by side, only for their lands to be taken?

This was madness!
“You lunatic—no, isn’t that a bit excessive?”
“How can you seize an ally’s land? This is tyrannical!”
“We cannot accept this!”
Ruthania was powerful, and no one could win a fight against them. But they couldn’t let their lands be taken without protest.

Furious nobles from the affected kingdoms vehemently opposed the plan, with some even prepared to risk their lives in defiance.
Ghislain, expecting this backlash, nodded a few times and spoke.
“In exchange, I’ll offer you larger lands.”

“What do you mean?”
“Near your kingdoms, there are territories from fallen kingdoms. Why not take an even larger portion of those?”
“Uh… Oh… Hmm…”

The nobles scrutinized the map Ghislain had marked. The offered lands were much larger than what was being taken.
It was undeniably a better deal, and the proposed divisions seemed fair.
Ghislain restructured territorial boundaries to balance the spoils, ensuring that everyone gained something. Though some grumbled, the expanded borders satisfied most.

As the Allied Forces finalized their plans, Ghislain leaned back, quietly pleased with the outcome.
“I’ve already gotten my share.”
Ruthania, having claimed vast amounts of land, emerged as the greatest beneficiary of the war. The kingdom, already powerful, had nearly doubled in size.

Though some grumbled, everyone had gained something, and Ruthania’s strength kept dissent in check.
As post-war matters neared completion, Ghislain once again drifted into another dream.