The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 312: Chapter 311: It Was Truly a Magnificent Duel (2)



"Head butler, it's time," Wendy said.

Claude nodded. "Alright, let's go."

The day of the showdown had finally arrived. Today was the day of the mock battle.

By now, the participants in the experiment would be utterly famished and too weak to function. They had only been provided water and that strange powder for every meal.

Claude moved with a confident expression.

His destination was the large arena once used in Desmond's estate.

Gladiator arenas like this, where slaves fought, were rare facilities only estates as great as Desmond's could afford to maintain.

Ghislain, who had arrived earlier, waved as Claude entered.

"What's with that expression? You seem awfully confident."

"Why not? There's no need to be tense about a game where victory is assured."

"Didn't you lose last time with that same attitude?"

"Then so be it."

It was true. Someone like Claude, who had nothing left to lose, naturally exuded a carefree

aura.

In the spectator stands, key figures from the estate began to gather. As the crowd grew, Claude raised his hand.

Thud!

Step, step, step, step!

The gates on one side of the arena opened, and 200 soldiers marched out in perfect order. Each soldier carried a wooden shield and a club made of bundled straw. To prevent fatalities, they were armed with non-lethal weapons. Even so, getting hit by one would still hurt a lot.

These were the soldiers Claude had prepared over the past month.

Ghislain watched the soldiers and smirked.

"What's this? You've been training soldiers on the side? Not bad."

"Of course. I've managed them personally."

Claude had selected only the strongest and most physically fit among the soldiers. He had provided them with the best diet, balanced training, and ample rest to refine their bodies.

On top of that, he had pushed Piote to use holy power to ensure they were always in peak condition.

Claude wasn't someone who relied solely on mental toughness. He used his knowledge to the fullest, turning a short month into an opportunity to create elite soldiers.

Ghislain nodded as he observed the soldiers.

'He does have talent, though he's foolish in the strangest ways.'

Despite the estate's busy schedule, Claude had trained the soldiers to such a high standard in just a month. His determination to win the bet was clearly reflected in the soldiers.

Claude also gazed at his soldiers with a satisfied smile.

"This bet is nothing like the others.'

In previous bets, all he could do was watch the results. He had no control over the outcome. But this time, he could change the game with soldiers he had personally trained. The bet was simply about which side would win.

He didn't believe the starved participants would have any strength left, but he had still prepared thoroughly. He had even given the soldiers strict orders to pummel the other side without mercy.n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

Once Claude's soldiers had formed their ranks, Ghislain made a gesture.

Creak...

The gates on the opposite side of the arena opened slowly.

For a long while, no one emerged. The crowd craned their necks to peer into the darkness beyond the gates.

"Uhhhhh..."

Finally, the participants, who had subsisted on water and powder alone, let out groans as they emerged.

Ten knights, twenty elves, and twenty soldiers appeared-far fewer than Claude's forces. The numbers had been reduced due to the inclusion of knights.

They shuffled forward awkwardly, holding only straw clubs. They had even abandoned their shields, claiming they were too heavy.

Claude smiled, certain of his victory.

'Heh, they've turned into complete zombies. Of course, after starving for a month, how could they be fine?'

The participants were noticeably thinner than before. Their eyes were sunken, and their steps looked weak and unsteady.

Gordon, in particular, who had once been grotesquely muscular, now looked leaner and almost stylish.

While Claude smiled, Belinda's eyes sparkled in surprise.

"Their muscles haven't shrunk as much as I thought, and their eyes are still sharp.'

As an assassin, Belinda's keen observation quickly assessed the situation.

Though they appeared fatigued and weak, their bodies seemed almost sculpted-lean and stripped of excess fat. It was as if they had intentionally dieted and exercised to achieve this

state.

Their eyes, far from lifeless, burned with fury.

Ghislain gestured again, and Gillian shouted loudly, "Begin!"

Thud!

Claude's soldiers raised their shields. They only needed to hold the line and prevent the participants from reaching the food behind them.

If the participants managed to breach the soldiers' line and eat the food, they would win.

"Hahaha..."

At the front, Gordon and Lucas staggered forward. The elves and soldiers followed, shuffling

along like zombies.

Step. Step. Step...

Their pace quickened, and before long, they were sprinting madly.

"They're coming!"

Claude's soldiers braced their shields tightly. They just needed to hold out until the

participants tired themselves out. Even though knights were among them, it was believed

they wouldn't last long without proper meals.

But this assumption was a grave mistake.

"Out of my way!" Gordon roared as he swung his straw club.

Boom!

"Hurk!"

The soldier blocking him was sent flying with a single blow.

Following behind him, Lucas and the other knights swung their clubs wildly.

Boom! Boom! Boom!

The sound wasn't what one would expect from straw clubs. Astonishingly, a faint bluish glow emanated from the knights' weapons.

Claude shot to his feet.

'What... what's going on? How are they still so full of energy? How are they using mana?'

It was true that those who wielded mana could endure starvation longer than ordinary people,

as mana helped sustain their vitality.

But after a month of starvation, even knights should have been significantly weakened. Yet,

they didn't seem starved at all.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

With ten knights fighting energetically, even Claude's well-trained soldiers struggled to hold

their ground.

Though these soldiers were strong and well-prepared, their opponents weren't just knights.

"You bastards!" Ascon charged at the soldiers with a furious expression, eyes wide with rage.

"You @$#%@!, @$#% @!, you miserable @$#% @!, @$#%@!"

A stream of unrelenting curses spewed from his mouth. The soldiers, insulted to their core,

swung their clubs in anger.

"Just die already!"

"Give us food!"

"Arrrgh!"

Thud! Thud! Thud!

Both sides, consumed by rage, descended into a chaotic brawl.

The knights' skills were far superior, but Claude's soldiers were no pushovers. Their sheer

size, strength, and numbers allowed them to hold their ground.

If real swords had been used, the soldiers would have been no match for the mana-wielding

knights.

But with straw clubs imbued with mana, the weapons were only slightly more durable than usual. The soldiers' heavy armor further mitigated the knights' blows, forcing both sides into

intense hand-to-hand combat.

Thud! Thud! Thud!

"Arrrgh!"

Screams echoed across the chaotic arena, now a battlefield of utter mayhem.

The soldiers were numerous, but the knights steadily advanced, taking down one after another. The trailing elves and soldiers also drew attention and contributed in their own way.

Claude watched the scene with an indifferent expression.

They hadn't fully broken through the formation yet, but the verification was essentially

complete. If the knights were fully armed and using mana, at least half the soldiers would

already be dead.

Ghislain grinned at Claude.

"Looks like the test is over, don't you think?"

After a brief silence, Claude suddenly stood up and shouted.

"Hey! Stop them! Stop them! Don't let them through!"

If they could fight that well, the only option left was to deny it. No matter how strong they

were, if they couldn't break through the soldiers, it meant their combat effectiveness had

decreased.

After all, the bet wasn't about whether they could fight but whether they could break through

the soldiers and eat the food or not.

With 40 troops, including 10 knights, it should have been a given to break through 200

soldiers.

The soldiers Claude had prepared gritted their teeth and tried to hold on. They had been promised generous rewards if they could hold the line.

Alpoi, the mages, Max, and the troubleshooters watched the fight with nervous eyes.

They were already sweating profusely, their faces pale. No matter how they looked at it, it

seemed inevitable that the soldiers would be overwhelmed.

Finally, "The Man Who Defeated the Goddess," Alpoi, clasped his hands tightly and prayed

aloud.

"Goddess! Please! Please, help us!"

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

"Uwaaahhhh!"

Gordon and Lucas were unstoppable. They vented all the accumulated stress from their

training.

After all, they could endure getting hit with straw dummies.

"You bastards! Damn it! XXX! Your mother! XXXXXXX!"

Ascon had long since collapsed to the ground after taking too many hits. He lay there

clutching his head, still shouting profanities at the enemy's parents.

Most of the elves and soldiers had also fallen. Full stomachs or not, they were no match for

200 elite soldiers to begin with.

But thanks to their efforts in distracting and holding back the enemy, the knights managed to

take down more than half of the opposing soldiers.

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

Thus, the knights kept advancing, swinging their straw dummies mercilessly. For the knights

who had followed Ghislain through countless real battles, this was child's play. Eventually, they encased themselves in mana and charged forward recklessly. Since the

opponents were also attacking with straw dummies, enduring a bit of pain was a fair trade.

Thwack!

Lucas, swinging and taking blows in a frenzy, suddenly realized that there was no one left in

front of him.

"I broke through."

The soldiers around them were all down. While some were still standing, breaking the formation meant the mock battle was over.

The knights following Lucas threw aside their straw dummies and shouted.

"We won!"

"Hahahahaha!"

"The food is ours!"

The knights rushed toward the food. A feast of various meats, fruits, and even alcohol awaited

them, as if to comfort them for their efforts.

Watching the knights eat like madmen, Claude muttered to himself.

"This is strange. I tasted it, and it made me hungry?"

Even eating it for just one day made him hungry-how could they endure eating only that for

an entire month and still fight like this? Watching Claude's bewilderment, Ghislain chuckled inwardly. Scholars and mages from past lives had focused solely on reducing volume, increasing

portability, and sustaining energy for long periods. A slight sense of hunger was inevitable. Eating the same thing continuously without chewing or savoring it would naturally become tedious. But in a war zone, it was an exceptional source of nutrition.

In battle, fullness wasn't the priority. The key was to continuously supply nutrients to

maintain extreme tension and movement.

Claude, who had never directly experienced war, made the mistake of judging by ordinary standards.

Even if he had known, he probably wouldn't have been able to survive on it alone for a month

anyway.

Ghislain lightly tapped the dazed Claude and spoke.

"So? Looks like the match is settled, don't you think?"

Claude glanced around with trembling eyes. Everyone around him was staring at him, clearly

waiting for him to admit defeat.

"Ha..."

Claude let out a deep sigh as he looked up at the sky, then let out a self-deprecating laugh.

"Well, I guess there's no helping it. To think the lord would succeed again. Just where did you learn all of this?"

In any case, he had to accept defeat.

Because that's what it means to be a gambler.

"Alright, I've lost."

Still, since he hadn't wagered anything, he felt surprisingly lighthearted this time.

"A-ahh, uh, uh..."

Meanwhile, Alpoi, the mages, Max, and the troubleshooters trembled uncontrollably, letting

out strange noises.

Max and the troubleshooters had gambled away 30 years. The mages, including the previous

wager, were now bound for 60 years as slaves. Forget retirement-surviving the next 60 years would be a miracle.

All they could do was gape at Claude.

When their eyes met, Claude shrugged with a bitter smile and shook his head, as if resigned.

He extended a fist lightly toward Alpoi and said.

"You lost, but you fought well. It was a truly impressive match, wasn't it, bro?"

"A-ah..."

As he looked at Claude's smiling face, Alpoi raised a trembling hand. He wanted to cast a spell

like before, but his hands were shaking, and he couldn't focus.

"A-ugh..."

That smiling face deserved at least one fireball.

"You, son of..."

Thud.

But before he could finish speaking, Alpoi fainted.

***

The new combat rations proved highly effective.

The ability to endure even when supply lines were cut or delayed would undoubtedly be a

massive advantage in warfare.

Everyone praised Ghislain, their mouths full of compliments.

"Incredible! As expected of our lord!"

"This will greatly extend operational ranges during war!"

"It's more than adequate as emergency rations!"

Ghislain nodded and gave instructions.

"Set up combat ration manufacturing facilities throughout the territory. Once sufficient

quantities are produced, distribute them to the citizens as emergency supplies. Also, research

ways to maintain quality over time and proper storage methods. It should last for years, but it

depends on how it's stored."

"Yes, my lord."

Though it was a lot of work, the vassals didn't object since it was essential.

Claude also clapped his hands in agreement.

"As expected of our lord, truly remarkable!"

"...Yeah."

Claude looked genuinely at ease, without a hint of ulterior motive.

Ghislain shook his head slightly at him, then addressed everyone.

"Now, all of you, it's time to help with my training." At the sudden statement, everyone's eyes widened in shock. [T/L: Please support me and read 385 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans]