Chapter 754

Chapter 754
Ghislain stared at the gaunt, bloodless faces of the displaced people and felt a shift in the air.
They are finally making their move.
This chaotic escalation was a sharp departure from their previous patterns of secrecy. However, the reason was clear to Ghislain.
The secret is out.
The messengers from the Holy See had likely reached the various capitals by this point, spreading the alarm. The news of the massacre in the elven territory had surely followed.
In response, the human nations would be bracing for impact, likely mobilizing their standing armies. Even the most fractious noble houses would be forced to pause their internal squabbles and form a unified front.
Standing against the Demonic Realm was the one thing that consistently forced humanity into a state of cooperation.
For the Salvation Order, this meant their grand design had been compromised before it could reach fruition. Driven into a corner, they were acting out of pure desperation.
Nevertheless, these scattered, impulsive strikes seemed ill-advised. If a hidden blade hasn’t been spotted yet, it is usually wiser to keep it sheathed.
If they are willing to burn a hidden asset just to stir up this much panic…
It suggested they had a specific objective that outweighed the cost of being discovered.
Ghislain ran through the possibilities. It likely wasn’t a direct hit on an Emperor or a high-ranking world leader. A dragon? Highly improbable.
Unless the core leadership of the Salvation Order took the field, a handful of high-tier operatives wouldn’t be enough to topple such powerhouses. A failed attempt would only lead to their annihilation.
What, then, was the prize?
It was likely a faction similar to the elves—isolated from the main human kingdoms but essential to the overall alliance.
Such targets were few and far between. Among them, the dwarves were the most prominent.
Coincidentally, Ghislain’s group was already en route to the dwarven lands. They were the keepers of another Sacred Stone.
While dwarven outposts and subterranean strongholds were common across the lands, there was only one place where the keepers of the stone lived.
The Eternal Forge.
Much like the World Tree was to the elves, the Forge was the heart of dwarven spiritual life. It was their most guarded sanctuary and the seat of their sovereign.
Is that where they’re heading?
Having just struck the elven forest, the dwarves were the logical next step.
Now that the warning had been issued, the dwarven mountain and the surrounding human provinces would be on high alert. The Salvation Order would need to strike before the fortifications were fully manned.
Speed is of the essence.
If the dwarves were indeed the target, the figure known as the “Prophet” would likely be present, accompanied by legions of monsters and dark sorcerers.
Of course, there was a chance the target was elsewhere, but if it wasn’t the dwarves, it likely wasn’t a priority for Ghislain’s immediate mission.
He had no other viable leads to follow.
He had already intended to streamline his group to travel faster. Turning to his hired swords, he issued a command.
“Listen up. Head to the nearest settlement and recruit every mercenary available. Send word through our networks to the other kingdoms. Tell them to gather their forces. Move carefully—the roads are crawling with beasts.”
The Julien Mercenary Corps had spent years cultivating a sterling image, resolving crises across several borders. Their influence reached into nearly every kingdom.
Ghislain was now activating that network to prepare for a continental escalation.
In truth, he knew these reinforcements wouldn’t reach the dwarves in time to stop an immediate assault. If the Salvation Order was striking now, the battle would be over before the mercenaries arrived.
Still, the call to arms was necessary. The future of this conflict was still unwritten.
“Osvald the Brave! I shall assemble our brothers-in-arms and prepare to purge this darkness! You can rely on my steel!”
“Not you. You’re staying here.”
“…Understood, sir.”
“The rest of you, move out! Now!”
Following his lead, the bulk of the mercenaries doubled back toward the lands the refugees had fled. Their task was to sound the alarm and begin the gathering of forces.
Only a core group of twenty remained. The smaller numbers allowed for a significantly higher travel speed.
Julien looked toward the horizon with a heavy brow.
“Ghislain, what’s the plan for the creatures blocking the path?”
“We go through them.”
There wasn’t enough time to play the hero for every village in the region; the local governors would have to earn their keep. However, Ghislain wasn’t about to ignore threats directly in his way.
“They’re likely just decoys meant to slow us down. That means they aren’t elite. We’ll break them and keep moving.”
The group accelerated their pace.
Ereneth, observing the group dynamics, nudged one of the remaining mercenaries.
“Tell me something.”
“Yes, milady!”
“Why do Julien, Deneb, and Kyle all address Astion as ‘Ghislain’?”
“Oh, that… the vice-commander has two identities, in a way.”
“Two identities? How so?”
The mercenary looked over his shoulder before lowering his voice.
“Between us, the vice-commander is a bit… unstable. Word is he has a fractured mind, like two souls in one body.”
“A split personality?”
“That’s the rumor. Why else would he use two names? They don’t call him a lunatic for nothing. His methods are usually pretty wild.”
The reality—that Ghislain was a traveler from the future inhabiting Astion’s younger form—was a secret held only by the original three. No one else would have even entertained the idea.
Because the inner circle used the name “Ghislain” so casually, the rest of the corps had simply invented their own explanations.
Ereneth pressed further.
“He introduced himself to Lady Iralniel as Astion. Is that the name he was born with?”
“Exactly. Astion is his official name. Most of us use it. Only the Commander, Kyle, Sister Deneb, and a few veterans use the other one.”
“I see…”
Ereneth rested her chin in her palm, watching Ghislain’s silhouette as he rode ahead.
He is certainly unusual and quite bold… but he doesn’t strike me as insane.
The stories of dark mages and roaming monsters didn’t rattle her; she was more than capable of handling such threats. Nor did she feel a deep emotional pull toward the plight of the common folk.
The detail about the two names, however, fascinated her.
A realization crossed her face, and she let out a small laugh.
Is that what’s happening?
It seemed those closest to Astion used the name Ghislain. It wasn’t an alias; it was a mark of intimacy—a nickname for his inner circle.
I think I’ll use it too.
Ereneth spurred her horse forward until she was riding alongside him.
“Ghislain.”
“…Yes?”
He turned to her, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. She had used his official name until this moment.
With a playful tilt of her head, she smiled.
“I’ve decided to call you Ghislain as well. It feels more fitting. We are allies, aren’t we?”
“…If you wish. Call me what you like.”
Her smile widened. The change in address made her feel as though she had stepped into his private world, and the feeling was pleasant.
Ghislain, however, was struck by a different thought.
In my original timeline, we never even met.
When they had crossed paths in his previous life, the name “Ghislain” meant nothing to her. She had simply arrived to help a dying world of her own volition.
Now, his presence was warping the tapestry of history.
Ereneth was learning a name that she should have never encountered.
Since she would live for a thousand years into the future, she would carry this memory through the centuries.
He couldn’t help but wonder—
When I eventually return to my own time… how will she look at me?
The curiosity was distracting. He felt a brief, impulsive urge to return to the future immediately just to see the result.
No. Stay focused.
If he left now, there was no guarantee he could ever return to this pivotal moment in the past.
He forced the thought away. He would find out the answer in due time. For now, his focus remained on the growth of Julien, Deneb, and Kyle.
Ensuring their survival and strength was the only way to forge a future where his comrades didn’t have to die.
— Only you… have the power to change this.
Deneb’s final words echoed in his mind.
She wouldn’t have sent him back without a path to victory.
There had to be a way to save them all.
Shaking off his reverie, Ghislain focused on the immediate problem: the monsters clogging the road ahead.
Screeeeeech!
The ruins of a nearby village were teeming with aberrations. They were hideous to behold.
“Gods, what are those things?”
“Osvald the Brave… is definitely not… intimidated!”
“What kind of sick experiments are these mages running?”
The creatures were nightmares of flesh. One had a wolf’s torso fused with a giant serpent; another was a bull with a cluster of bleating goat heads. These twisted chimeras roamed the ruins without logic.
There were no bodies left to bury—the monsters had picked the bones clean.
Ghislain made a sharp sound of disapproval. In his future, these chimeras were nearly extinct because the dark mages had been hunted down. In this era, however, they were a common plague.
“Eliminate them. Now.”
BOOM!
Screeeeeech!
Ghislain didn’t wait for a formation. He unleashed a torrent of mana, the sheer force of the magic atomizing the leading chimeras.
The rest of the group barely had to draw their blades. Ghislain led from the front, raining destruction with every step.
Boom! Boom! BOOOOM!
The aberrations were erased before they could even snarl. To a commoner, these were harbingers of the end; to the Julien Mercenary Corps, they were merely an obstacle to be cleared.
Scattered groups of undead also drifted through the fields, aimless and hollow.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
Ghislain moved like a scythe through wheat. He was determined to leave nothing alive in their wake.
Then, he paused.
Something is wrong.
The density of the monsters was dropping, but not because they were fleeing.
They’re all heading toward a single point.
The tracks and the lingering mana trails all converged in a specific direction. Ghislain’s interest was piqued.
He pulled out a map. The direction the monsters were traveling lined up perfectly with their own route.
Beasts this primitive didn’t coordinate their movements unless they were being herded.
Don’t tell me… it’s the bridge.
A massive canyon loomed ahead, bisected by a deep river and spanned by a single, high-altitude suspension bridge.
Ghislain sent Dark ahead to scout the crossing.
After a few minutes, the familiar voice of his summon echoed in his mind.
— Master. They are there, just as you suspected. But… there’s a complication.
Dark detailed the scene. Ghislain’s expression hardened as he listened.
“Understood. Fall back.”
He gathered his core team and laid out the situation and the plan he’d formed based on the scout’s report.
The atmosphere grew heavy. They were used to fighting through hordes, but the scene at the canyon wasn’t something that could be solved with simple violence.
When they reached the edge of the gorge, the reality was even worse than the report. A wall of monsters blocked the far end of the bridge.
But it was the center of the bridge that stopped them in their tracks.
“Please, have mercy!”
“Take me instead, just let the children go!”
“Oh gods, please…”
Dozens of civilians were bound and forced to their knees in the middle of the swaying structure. The bridge groaned under the unnatural weight of the crowd.
A band of desperate-looking outlaws stood at the entrance of the bridge, their blades drawn and hovering over the captives.
“Hmph…”
Ghislain observed the bandits. They didn’t look like zealots; they looked like puppets being used by the Salvation Order.
He projected his voice across the gap.
“Is there a leader among you who can speak?”
One bandit stepped forward, his hand shaking as he held a knife to a young boy’s throat.
“Don’t… don’t come any closer!”
The man was clearly terrified, his eyes darting toward the monsters behind him.
Ghislain’s gaze remained icy.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You’re the Julien lot, aren’t you? And you… you’re that devil with the staff. Astion the Madman.”
“That is my name. Though the title is a matter of perspective.”
“We… we have orders to hold this pass.”
“Orders from whom?”
“I don’t know names! Some dark sorcerer… he told us what to do, that’s all.”
“And where is he?”
“Back there… with the things…”
“Typical.”
Ghislain scanned the far side. The monster horde obscured his vision, but he could feel the greasy residue of multiple dark mages lurking in the rear.
“How did you know we would choose this path? There are other ways across the river.”
“I don’t know! We were just told to wait for a group matching your description.”
“Of course. You’re just a pawn being sacrificed by a larger coward.”
“Shut up!”
The bandit was frantic. He was a low-level thug who had likely spent his life bullying peasants, only to find himself caught in a nightmare he couldn’t control.
Ghislain raised his staff slightly, a smirk playing on his lips.
“Do you really think you can stop me? You know my reputation.”
“Stay back! We know you’re a superhuman. We know what you can do. But if you try anything, we’ll slit their throats and cut the cables. Everyone falls!”
The blade bit into the boy’s skin. The child didn’t even have the breath to scream, just shivering in silence.
Ghislain’s voice remained flat.
“What is your price?”
“Just… stay here. For a few days. That’s all. If you stay put, nobody has to die. I swear it.”
Ghislain’s eyes sharpened. It was a transparent stalling tactic.
They knew they couldn’t kill him, so they were using human shields to freeze him in place.
The bandit continued to plead.
“Please… just wait. We can all walk away from this.”
“So you’re more afraid of the man behind you than the man in front of you? Even after what you’ve done?”
“I’ve heard the stories! ‘The Madman,’ ‘The Scourge of Bandits’… I know you won’t let us walk away if we surrender!”
“…I haven’t heard that second one in a while. So you’ve chosen to die as a slave to a dark mage rather than face me?”
“We’re cursed! He poisoned us! If we fail, we rot from the inside out! We didn’t have a choice!”
“Hmph…”
“One month! Just stay here for one month and we’ll let them go! That was the deal!”
“You’re a fool if you believe a dark mage keeps his word.”
“What choice do I have?! If I’m going down, I’m taking everyone with me!”
“You’d murder children to buy yourself a few more days of life?”
“Yes! So stay back! Stay for a month, and everyone lives! What’s so hard about that?!”
“They aren’t my people. Why should I care?”
“You’re supposed to be the ‘Righteous’ Corps! You’re the heroes of the kingdom! Only a monster like you would let them die!”
“……”
The bandit had a point.
Ghislain had spent a great deal of effort building Julien’s status as a paragon of justice to gain political leverage. The “Righteous” moniker was a brand he had carefully cultivated.
Unfortunately, while Julien was the hero, Astion had become the shadow—the one who did the necessary, bloody work.
“One month! Or they all die right now! Try me!”
The bandit, bordering on a breakdown, pressed the knife until a thin line of red appeared on the boy’s neck.
Ghislain raised a hand in a calming gesture.
“Fine. Easy now. If the boy dies, you’re useless to your master and dead to me. Be careful with that blade. A steady hand is important.”
“Y-Yeah. Get back. Further!”
Ghislain retreated a step, his eyes calculating. The bandits were mundane humans—no mana, no training.
Seeing the legendary “Madman” back down, the bandit felt a surge of relief and slightly loosened his grip on the child.
In that heartbeat—
BOOM!
Ghislain bridged the gap instantly. His movement was a blur that defied human perception.
Before the bandit’s brain could process the change, the staff was already swinging.
CRACK!
The man’s skull crumpled under the impact.
Simultaneously, dozens of razor-thin needles of mana erupted from Ghislain’s aura.
SHP! SHP! SHP! SHP! SHP!
Every bandit holding a hostage was struck through the temple at the exact same moment. They collapsed instantly, dead before they could even twitch their fingers to finish the kill.
Mundane thugs stood no chance against the reaction speed of a superhuman.
“I don’t bargain with trash.”
Ghislain spoke to the air—
And then—
RUMBLE…
With a deafening groan of twisting metal and snapping wood, the bridge began to fall.