The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations (light Novel)

Nobles generally avoided antagonizing mages. Despite their selfish and individualistic tendencies, mages were quick to unite when their rights were threatened.
This unity was a defense mechanism to protect their privileges, which had effectively safeguarded their status for years. The most kingdoms could do was prevent mage towers from meddling in political conflicts or colluding with lords.

But this situation was different. If a dragon truly appeared, countless lives would be lost. Customs and traditions were irrelevant when the stakes demanded forcibly subjugating the mage towers, even through bloodshed.
The nobles, adept at political maneuvering, quickly saw an opportunity. If nothing else, their political skills far outmatched those of the mages.
“Hmm, we have the moral high ground here…”
“With Duke Fenris taking the lead, who’s going to oppose us?”
“This is the perfect chance to put the mage towers in their place for good.”

Though mages were powerful, their overconfidence stemmed from their ability to relocate to any kingdom at will. But if every kingdom united against them, they’d have nowhere to run.
“The era of mage suppression is upon us. Let’s make sure they never overstep again.”
Smiling inwardly, the nobles prepared to act.

They weren’t foolish or incapable of addressing the mage problem before—it had simply been beyond their means.
With Duke Fenris leading the charge, the game had changed. No kingdom would dare oppose the decree of the Allied Forces' Supreme Commander, especially one as notorious and respected as Fenris, the so-called "mad war hero."
Previously, kingdoms feared the mage towers’ retaliation if they acted too harshly. But with nowhere to flee, runaway mages would either live as fugitives or align with the remnants of the Salvation Order.

One noble stood and proclaimed loudly:
“The Supreme Commander is right! Such selfish behavior is unacceptable in service to humanity!”
“They’ve grown too accustomed to exploiting others' sacrifices for their gain!”

“This is the perfect opportunity to correct their twisted sense of entitlement.”
Watching the nobles eagerly voice their support, Ghislain clicked his tongue. Their true intentions were as transparent as glass, but for now, this was the kind of fervor he needed.
“Begin preparations immediately. Time is running short.”

According to Ereneth, there was still some time before Arterion’s full power would be restored.
However, complacency was not an option. They also had to prepare for the impending monster wave.
Delays from issues like these would only hinder progress. Even if the measures were extreme, it was necessary to press forward.

“All commanders, relocate your troops and weapons to the Turian stronghold immediately. The pursuit teams will consist of transcendents, a few mages, and select knights for support.”
The pursuit teams had to remain small for efficiency, while the bulk of the forces would be deployed to Turian to prepare for the main battle.
Ghislain’s orders prompted swift action. Pursuit teams were formed, each led by a transcendent or skilled knight-mage duo.
Messengers were dispatched to every kingdom, bearing letters that commanded the capture of runaway mages by any means necessary—alive or dead.

As preparations concluded and the pursuit teams set off, Alfoy stepped forward.
“Let me lead one of the teams! I can handle it! I’ve got this!”
“…?”

Ghislain turned to look at Alfoy, whose appearance was, as usual, over-the-top. Dressed in a pristine white robe, mounted on an equally immaculate white horse, and wielding an elegant staff, Alfoy looked every bit the part of a grand mage.
Ghislain narrowed his eyes and asked, “Didn’t you plan to pick up that robe later?”
Standing nearby, Belinda shook her head and replied, “He insisted on getting it right away, so Sardina made one for him.”

Given Alfoy’s rising fame and the rumors of him being Fenris’s “hidden secret weapon,” Sardina had spared no expense in crafting the robe.
Alfoy straightened his back, and his horse, Kkokko, mimicked him, lifting its head proudly.
“Look, the robe isn’t what matters! Let me lead a pursuit team. I’ll bring those mages back, no problem!”

“…That sector is already assigned to Vanessa.”
“Oh, come on! Don’t you know me? I’m the best at hunting down runaways! Vanessa can just back me up when things get dicey!”
“Hmm…”

Ghislain folded his arms, considering the proposal.
Indeed, Alfoy had a knack for chasing down fugitives, as proven by his efficiency in tracking runaway slaves in his own domain.
Vanessa chimed in, “I don’t mind. He’s done a great job in the past.”

Though Ghislain understood this intellectually, Alfoy’s overall image made it hard to trust him completely. Still, after some deliberation, Ghislain nodded.
“Fine. But no slacking off. I expect results.”
“Don’t worry! I’ll drag them back, even if I have to bend them backward!”

Excited, Alfoy shouted energetically. He was the kind of person who insisted on being the leader, no matter what.
Once the teams were finalized, the pursuit squads dispersed in all directions.
Meanwhile, the Allied Forces’ main troops, led by various commanders, moved toward Turian. Claude’s army of 20,000 advanced toward the Norvagen Kingdom.

The Ruthanian forces, under Parniel and Tenant, also made their way to Turian’s fortress.
Ghislain, accompanied by a handful of knights, crossed into the neighboring kingdom.
This kingdom had reportedly lost a dozen mages, not a significant number given the low ratio of 5th Circle mages.

However, tracking even a small group across the vast continent required patience and precise intelligence.
Ghislain began the search near the closest mage tower.
“Establish a direction. Search every corner and bring me the information.”

At Ghislain’s command, the knights and local soldiers, armed with official cooperation orders, scoured the area.
Soon, reports began to trickle in.
“They were last seen heading south. Three mages moved together, taking a few apprentices with them.”

“They packed a significant amount of supplies and left not long ago.”
Hearing this, Ghislain smirked.
As expected of mages, their actions screamed entitlement. Even while fleeing, they couldn’t bear discomfort. Their cleverness often failed them in such scenarios.

“Their arrogance blinds them to reality.”
The mages hadn’t even bothered to shed their distinctive, luxurious robes, making them easily noticeable.
On top of that, they had brought apprentices along, making their group even more conspicuous.

Chasing them was a simple task for soldiers and knights seasoned in the art of pursuit.
“Dark, scout ahead.”
With that, Dark soared into the sky. Every pursuit team had one of Dark’s avatars, ensuring efficient communication until the avatars’ energy was depleted.

By dusk, Dark’s voice echoed in Ghislain’s mind.
—Master, I’ve found them. They’re camping in the mountains.
With Dark’s aerial surveillance, there was no hiding for the fugitives.

Ghislain led his knights into the mountains. Following the faint traces of magic left by the fleeing mages, they soon located the campfire.
The mages, seated comfortably around the fire, appeared far too relaxed for people on the run.
Spotting Ghislain and his knights, the mages jumped to their feet.

“W-who are you?!”
Even though three of them were 5th Circle mages—capable of overturning a small fief on their own—fear clouded their voices. They were well aware of the decree from every kingdom, forcibly conscripting mages for the impending war.
Ghislain tilted his head slightly and spoke.

"I am Duke Fenris, Supreme Commander of the Allied Forces. You must know why I’ve come."
The mages turned pale. They understood the gravity of the situation, but the Allied Forces' Supreme Commander coming personally to capture them was beyond what they expected.
Moreover, they had been caught far too quickly. Hesitation had delayed their escape, and now regret burned bitterly.

One mage, seemingly their representative, spoke with a trembling voice.
"W-we will not be participating in this war."
Ghislain remained silent, simply watching them. The mages squirmed under his gaze.

A tense silence stretched before Ghislain finally opened his mouth.
"Finished talking? Good. Then let’s go."
"We’ve said we’re not going!" the mage protested. "There’s no law that allows you to force us into this! We are not slaves!"

"Then become slaves," Ghislain replied coldly.
"W-what?"
"The only reason mages have been treated so well until now is because your power was needed in times of danger. If you’ve enjoyed the privileges, shouldn’t you fulfill your obligations? If not, I’ll simply make you slaves."

"Enough! We’ve done enough already!"
The mage furrowed his brow and began drawing upon his mana.
They knew Fenris was powerful. They even knew they couldn’t win against him.

Yet they readied themselves for battle, believing that asserting their will might make him hesitate. After all, they assumed that someone of their importance wouldn’t be handled recklessly.
"If you oppress us like this, do you think other mages will cooperate with you? They will refuse your commands entirely!"
Ghislain sighed.

"Such fools…"
"We are willing to send our disciples. But if you take every 5th Circle mage, how will the mage towers sustain themselves?"
The mage signaled to his two companions, who began to channel their own mana.

Three 5th Circle mages now stood ready. Though not transcendents, they were of elder status in their tower.
As the air around them rippled with mana, their disciples retreated, cautiously preparing to back their masters if needed.
Their defiance stemmed from a combination of resolve and the faint hope that together, they might stand a chance.

However, they had never personally witnessed Fenris’s abilities—a critical oversight.
Ghislain chuckled.
"Sympathy, dialogue, persuasion… None of that is needed here."

He raised a fist, deciding that overwhelming force was the only way forward.
In an instant, his form blurred.
CRACK!

Ghislain appeared behind one of the mages. A light movement of his hand was enough to dislocate the mage's limbs.
"W-what? Ughhh! AAAARGH!"
The mage collapsed, writhing in agony. The mana he had gathered dissipated uselessly.

"AAAAHHH!"
Lying on the ground with twisted limbs, he screamed in pain.
The other two mages froze, their spells faltering as Ghislain’s icy voice echoed.

"Move, and I’ll kill you on the spot."
Snap.
The sound of his knuckles cracking was enough to extinguish their defiance.

They had never faced such treatment before. Fenris’s cold glare crushed their spirits entirely.
One mage stammered, desperate.
"W-what if we refuse to fight? What if we do nothing after being dragged there?"

Ghislain laughed mockingly.
"Are you idiots? When faced with a dragon, you’ll fight with everything you’ve got if you want to live. Do you really think you can escape? Once you're in front of a dragon, your survival instincts will take over."
"…."

"And even if you decide to die on purpose, I can easily escape. I have the skills to do so. Feel free to try if you're curious."
"…."
The mages hung their heads, thoroughly defeated.

If they were prepared to die, they could do so right here. Otherwise, they would have to fight with all their might.
Utterly subdued, the mages followed Ghislain without resistance.
Inwardly, they cursed their ill fortune for being caught. They hoped the others who had escaped would remain free, knowing that the Allied Forces had vowed not to fight without at least a thousand 5th Circle mages.

But Ghislain moved with lightning speed, capturing runaway mages without hesitation.
"W-we have the right to freedom…!"
THUD!

"I’d rather die here than face a dragon!"
THUD!
"I don’t want to fight a draaaagooooon!"

THUD!
Every mage he encountered received the same treatment—swift capture after a brief, futile resistance.
Despite his speed, Ghislain couldn’t cover the entire continent alone. It was a logistical impossibility.

"Ugh, this is more exhausting than I thought."
After weeks of relentless pursuit, Ghislain had captured just over a hundred mages. While impressive, it wasn’t nearly enough. A month had already passed, and the numbers weren’t adding up.
He continually sent projections of Dark to aid other pursuit teams and gather reports.

― Gillian’s team captured 32.
― Kaor’s team got 17.
― Bellinda… wow, she’s caught over 50. Guess being an assassin really helps with tracking.
― Jerome’s got 43, and Julien… damn, over 70.
Ghislain nodded. Julien, like himself, could sense the flow of the world, making him an unparalleled tracker.
― Gordon and Lukas have also made progress…

The ❖ Nоvеl𝚒ght ❖ (Exclusive on Nоvеl𝚒ght) pursuit teams had worked tirelessly, capturing many runaways.
Yet despite their efforts, the total count still fell far short of the goal. Many captured individuals were disciples, not 5th Circle mages.
Time was running out. Even if they couldn’t reach a thousand, they needed as many as possible.

Ghislain scowled and asked:
"What about Alfoy? Last time we checked, he hadn’t caught a single mage."
To his surprise, Dark hesitated before replying.

― Uh… Master, don’t be shocked.
"What? Is he still empty-handed after a month?"
Dark took a deep breath and said:

― Alfoy’s team has captured over 200 mages.
"…What?"
― Yeah, over 200.

"…"
Ghislain blinked in stunned silence.