The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations

Chapter 133: It’s Not a Difficult Request. (1)

The Marquis of Branford frowned as he glanced around the dark room.

‘What a mess.’

The mixed stench of mold and blood told him just how dire the situation had been.

Rosalyn, who lay on the bed, looked significantly thinner and in worse condition compared to two weeks ago.

“Open the window.”

Swoosh!

The knights who had followed the Marquis opened the windows. To be cautious, they did not draw back the curtains.

As the wind blew in, causing the curtains to flutter, several servants stood in front of the window, blocking any light from reaching Rosalyn.

Ghislain sat in a corner of the room, arms crossed. He, too, had dark circles under his eyes, making it clear how exhausted he was.

“Young Master! Are you all right?”

“My Lord!”

Ghislain’s close aides hurriedly entered, fussing over him.

“My Lady!”

Even the butler, who had been driven out, rushed in with a worried expression.

Amidst the sudden commotion, Rosalyn slowly opened her eyes and sat up.

“Ah…”

She let out a sigh without thinking.

It was a complex sound, a mix of relief that it was finally over and the lingering effects of pain.

Rosalyn pointed directly at Ghislain and spoke.

“Right away… arrest that bastard…”

Now that it was over, she could have him locked up. Her mind was filled with thoughts of repaying him for all the pain and humiliation she had endured.

“What are you doing! I said arrest him now!”

At Rosalyn’s outburst, the knights hesitated, glancing at the Knight Commander.

Toleo silently gestured his command. The knights immediately blocked off any escape routes and began to surround the area.

As the atmosphere grew tense, Ghislain’s aides, trying to maintain their composure, discreetly moved to encircle him and stay alert.

“Young Master! What are you going to do now?”

Even as Belinda whispered urgently, Ghislain only showed a weary expression, remaining silent.

Claude quietly clicked his tongue, preparing for the worst-case scenario.

‘If things go south, I’ll have to take one of them as a hostage.’

But Toleo was not someone who had become the Knight Commander of the Marquis’s household by mere chance.

The knights were already prepared to act the moment Ghislain’s group made any suspicious moves, ready to spring toward Rosalyn and the Marquis of Branford.

Just as the tension between the two sides reached its peak, the Marquis of Branford spoke in a calm tone.

“Remove the mask.”

Rosalyn scoffed and nodded her head.

“Of course, we need to see the result of this sham treatment for a proper justification. Though the outcome is obvious.”

She roughly pulled off the mask and tossed it aside.

Even with the window open, the thought of hiding her face no longer crossed her mind.

After all the suffering she had been through, a little sunlight didn’t matter anymore.

“Is that enough? Did you all see it? Now, arrest him! Quickly!”

Rosalyn glared and shouted, but no one moved.

“Oh…”

She only let out a strange sound, as if in confusion or admiration.

Rosalyn raised her voice, full of anger.

“What is everyone doing right now? Are you saying you won’t move unless it’s my father’s orders?”

“Ah, my lady… My lady! My lady!”

The butler, with tears in his eyes, suddenly grabbed Rosalyn’s hand.

As if that were a signal, the servants and knights in the room all began to gasp.

She was dumbfounded by their unexpected reactions.

“Why, why are you all… Why…?”

Rosalyn swallowed nervously. Suddenly, a realization flashed through her mind. Her heartbeat began to quicken.

She looked around, then gestured to the servants blocking the window.

The servants hesitated but carefully stepped aside.

Sunlight seeped through the gap in the curtains, brightly illuminating Rosalyn’s cheek.

She flinched at the warmth but soon realized she felt no pain, and she touched her cheek.

“No… It can’t be…”

Suppressing both anxiety and hope, she spoke with a strained, trembling voice.

“A mirror… Get me a mirror…”

As if they had been waiting for those words, the servants hurriedly fetched a mirror.

They brought it close so she could see her face clearly.

“Ah…”

It had been a long time since she last saw herself in a mirror. Her reflection felt unfamiliar.

Her disheveled hair and clothes, stained with blood, made her look more like a woman from the slums than a lady of a noble family.

But none of that mattered.

With trembling hands, Rosalyn touched her cheek.

Her features were distinct, and her skin had become clear.

Though there were still faint red spots in a few places, they weren’t significant enough to worry about.

“My… my face…”

She was standing in the sunlight, yet there were no adverse effects. Unable to believe what she was seeing, she kept staring at the mirror.

The butler, still weeping, spoke in a shaky voice.

“My lady, you’re completely healed. You’re all better now. The treatment truly worked.”

He wiped away his tears and continued in his usual calm tone.

“Bring clothes for her to change into right away.”

At the butler’s gesture, a few of the servants quickly left the room.

“Ah…”

Rosalyn was at a loss for words.

The treatment, which had felt like torture, had truly worked.

“This… This is a dream, right…? Are you all playing a prank on me…?”

She hadn’t expected anything, which made the outcome all the more shocking.

If this were a dream, it would be the cruelest nightmare she could imagine.

Rosalyn stammered as she looked at Ghislain.

“T-This is a lie, right? Is this… some kind of drug-induced hallucination…?”

“It’s not that,” Ghislain said, approaching Rosalyn with a playful smile.

“The treatment is complete. It must have been difficult, but you endured it well. You did a great job.”

At those words, Rosalyn finally lowered her head.

A single tear fell from her eyes.

“Ah…”

She clutched her chest. The pain she had been suppressing surged up, as if it was bursting out.

She had finally escaped this devilish illness.

She could finally emerge from the darkness and see the light.

Even though she tried not to cry, the flood of pent-up sorrow overwhelmed her, and she couldn’t help, but shed tears.

“Ugh…”

“My lady…”

The butler, watching Rosalyn try to stifle her sobs, silently wept alongside her.

Even the normally cold-hearted Marquis of Branford remained silent for this moment.

“I think it would be best to give the lady some time to collect herself. Because of us, she can’t even cry freely, can she?” Belinda clicked her tongue and suggested. The butler nodded fervently in agreement.

“Y-Yes, let’s do that. Let’s step out for a moment. Quickly, now.”

The people began to retreat, glancing cautiously at the Marquis of Branford for his approval.

The Marquis looked at Rosalyn for a moment, then, without a word, turned and left the room.

“Come on, everyone, let’s get out.”

The butler ushered everyone out of the room, and they all departed the room.

Once the door was closed, Rosalyn’s sobbing grew louder.

“See what I mean? I don’t know if they lack empathy or just have no sense…” Belinda muttered, clicking her tongue, but she quickly shut her mouth when she noticed the Marquis’s gaze.

He let out a scoff and looked at Ghislain.

“So, you really did manage to treat her. I have to admit, it’s quite an impressive feat.”

Though he had effectively lost the bet, he didn’t feel as bad as he thought he would.

After all, his long-suffering daughter was cured, and there was no way that could be a bad thing.

Ghislain merely shrugged his shoulders in response.

The butler was the first to approach Ghislain, bowing deeply.

“Thank you! Thank you so much! The Baron’s medical skills are truly the best in the kingdom! Please forgive us for any rudeness we showed you!”

‘Well, that’s not quite true…’

At this rate, he’d end up being rumored as some sort of miracle healer. What if all the nobles came looking for him?

‘Nah, no way.’

Though inwardly flustered, Ghislain maintained a confident demeanor on the outside.

His aides, seeing this, finally looked relieved.

Belinda glanced at the Marquis’s face and smirked.

‘Look at that sulky expression. If he has any complaints, he should just speak up.’

With things going this way, even that fearsome Marquis wouldn’t be able to treat them recklessly.

Claude clicked his tongue inwardly. Although he was glad to have gotten through the crisis, he still couldn’t understand what had happened this time either. It felt as if common sense had been paralyzed.

‘Wow, it’s amazing every time I see it. How does this actually succeed?’

He squinted, scanning Ghislain from head to toe.

‘No matter how I look at it, he seems like he only has half-baked knowledge.’

The bizarre things Ghislain did were as if he had somehow managed to pluck out just the answers to the problem from somewhere.

A strange phenomenon where he produced results without actually understanding the cause.

Despite having seen it happen several times, Claude still couldn’t grasp how it was possible.

The Marquis of Branford frowned as he observed the group of relaxed individuals around Ghislain.

“Tell Rosalyn to come see me later. For now, summon the retainers. We’ll finalize the deal with Baron Fenris.”

“Oh!”

At the Marquis’s words, those around him let out small exclamations.

Finalizing the deal meant acknowledging Baron Fenris’s contribution and agreeing to grant him what he wanted.

Curious eyes turned to Ghislain, wondering what he might ask for.

* * *

Not long after, the main retainers of the Marquis’s household gathered in the hall.

The butler personally and politely escorted Ghislain and his aides to the meeting.

The Marquis of Branford sat at the highest seat, resting his chin on his hand as he looked down at the group.

“The outcome was quite remarkable. I thought it was just a bluff, but it seems you’re more than just a loud-mouthed brat.”

The retainers who were listening looked up in surprise. Such a generous compliment was rare from the Marquis of Branford.

“The method was unorthodox, but a promise is a promise. Now, tell me what it is that you want.”

Everyone turned to Ghislain with faces full of curiosity.

When dealing with someone as powerful as the Marquis of Branford, it was unlikely that what he wanted would be a small matter.

Just how big was the reward he sought to go to such lengths?

The hall was filled with tension and anticipation.

Ghislain quietly took a deep breath and raised his head.

“It’s not a particularly big request.”

The Marquis nodded indifferently.

“Go ahead, don’t hold back. Whatever it is you want, most things are within my power to grant.”

Ghislain smiled slightly, as if relieved, and spoke.

“Please become my guardian.”

“…What?”

The Marquis of Branford was taken aback and asked again.

And it wasn’t just him. Everyone around him looked equally stunned, their mouths hanging open.

The Marquis repeated his question to confirm.

“Did you just say ‘guardian’?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t misspeak, asking for a little support instead?”

“No, I didn’t.”

“Huh…”

For once, the usually stoic face of the Marquis of Branford was overtaken by bewilderment.

Even the people around him were all staring at Ghislain with similar expressions as their master.

Only Belinda was looking at him with a proud gaze.

‘Wow, as expected of our young master!’

She had taught Ghislain when he was younger that if you were given one, you should take two.

But she never imagined he would go as far as to declare he’d leech off someone for life.

And to say that to such a fearsome Marquis, no less.

‘He really learned well, whoever taught him.’

Watching Ghislain stand there, boldly making a request that would make anyone else shudder, the Marquis of Branford let out a low hum.

“Hmm…”

There was a world of difference between merely providing support and assuming the role of a guardian.

Becoming his guardian would mean that no matter what kind of trouble Ghislain caused in the future, the Marquis of Branford would be responsible for handling it.

He said he didn’t want anything big, but it was clear he intended to keep extracting benefits whenever he needed them in the future.

This boy wasn’t just shameless; he was entirely on another level of shamelessness.