The Regressed Mercenary’s Machinations (light Novel)

Jerome grinned as he looked at the priests floating mid-air.
"That was close. If I’d been any later, we’d be in real trouble."
It had taken considerable time to heal his wounds and recover his mana. Even now, he felt he had arrived slightly behind schedule. Fortunately, he had made it just in time before the fortress was entirely overrun. Now, he had to hold the line here.

"Chasing # Nоvеlight # only these bastards turned out to be the right call."
There was a reason Jerome had relentlessly pursued the 1st Legion.
It was based on the strategy Ghislain had shared just before his departure.

"Delay the enemy as much as possible when you spot them. However, if any are heading toward our stronghold, prioritize harassing those forces. If things don’t go as planned, focus on defending the stronghold."
Jerome had thrown himself between the 1st and 2nd Legions, creating chaos wherever possible. He then covertly observed their movements. Once he confirmed the 1st Legion was moving toward the stronghold, he persistently hindered their advance.
He had no time to check where the 3rd Legion was heading, but he had planned to find them later if the 1st and 2nd Legions split directions. Luckily, his prediction had been correct. Ultimately, only the 1st Legion arrived at the stronghold.

Now, he needed to assist the allied forces in stopping them.
"I'm not just good at being a nuisance."
A rumbling sound echoed.

As Jerome extended both arms, the ground before the fortress began to tremble, and dozens of boulders levitated into the air.
The battle was already raging. The Atrodé army was surging toward the fortress in full force.
"Go!"

With a burst of energy, the boulders were hurled at incredible speed, crushing parts of the Atrodé forces.
Boom! Boom! BOOM!
"Arghhh!"

The Atrodé soldiers, confident of their impending victory, were blindsided by the sudden assault. The notion that they would face such a devastating attack at the last moment had never crossed their minds.
Count Vipenvelt’s face stiffened.
"That damned pest… again."
The meddler had reappeared. He had delayed their progress countless times already.

Although Vipenvelt wanted nothing more than to capture and kill Jerome, he couldn’t deny that the man’s skills were formidable.
"Seal his magic immediately! Stop him at all costs!"
Previously, they had only managed to reduce his impact, never fully suppressing him. But that alone could tip the scales. With the tide of battle already turning in their favor, they only needed to neutralize Jerome long enough to annihilate the fortress's defenders.

Marquis Gideon, spotting Jerome, shouted urgently.
"Support the mage! Help Lord Jerome fight freely! Lay down your lives if you must!"
Jerome was their last hope. They had to hold out with him until reinforcements arrived.

Jerome’s ability to move freely was critical for their survival. The allied mages understood the Marquis’ words clearly. Realizing they had a chance to turn the tide, their spirits lifted. They rallied one another with determination.
"Don’t hold back your mana!"
"Focus on disrupting the enemy’s dispel magic!"

"Expand the mana field as wide as you can!"
The allied mages fought as if their lives depended on it, amplifying the range of their mana fields with every ounce of strength. They intercepted every dispel attempt by the Atrodé mages, knowing full well that if Jerome fell, they would all perish. Fueled by this resolve, they even drew on their life force to sustain the effort.
Their desperate resistance unsettled the Atrodé mages.

"Th-this is…."
Even under normal circumstances, the allied mages held a slight edge. Now, the Atrodé mages were forced to fend off the allied forces' spells while attempting to counter Jerome’s overwhelming attacks.
Mana from both sides surged across the battlefield, enveloping the entire area in a storm of magical energy. Jerome’s sudden intervention had drastically shifted the momentum.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Jerome was now fighting alongside the allied priests. However, his power felt slightly different than before.
"Heh, having allies makes things easier, doesn’t it?"

Even though the Atrodé army’s mana field was in effect, the restrictions on his magic weren’t as severe as expected.
This was proof that the enemy couldn’t properly dispel his spells. At most, they were causing minor interference.
Still, the fight wasn’t entirely in his favor. Six priests were closing in on him.

Their battle was unlike ordinary skirmishes. The combatants fought high above the battlefield, their aerial maneuvers more intense than ever.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Jerome’s mana blade radiated a deep golden hue, different from its usual glow.

If I lose here, it’s over.
Pouring more mana into the blade than usual, Jerome made it appear alive, as though it moved with a will of its own, sweeping and striking in elegant arcs.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Jerome’s attacks raged like a storm, but the priests were not easy prey.
"You think we’ll let you have your way forever?"
"Fall back!"

"All we need to do is hold him off!"
The priests were well aware they were weaker than Jerome. They had fought him several times before and had learned to be cautious, working together to cover each other’s weaknesses.
Dark mist began to spread outward from the priests, enveloping the surrounding area. They were creating distance to stabilize their formation and prepare for counterattacks.

Jerome smirked, noticing their strategy.
"You still don’t understand me, do you?"
Mocking the priests, Jerome dispelled his mana blade and waved his hands. Bright orbs of light erupted from his body and scattered in all directions.

The priests’ expressions darkened as they recognized the danger.
"Block it!"
But the orbs spread faster than they could react. Like falling meteors, they rained down upon the Atrodé army.

BANG! BANG! BANG!
"Arghhh!"
The advancing Atrodé soldiers were devastated by the light explosions, their formations crumbling under the assault.

The technique Jerome used bore a resemblance to the Salvation Order’s secret arts, but his execution was far more fluid and versatile. Forced into a corner, the priests moved closer to Jerome, but he nimbly evaded them, scattering his spells across the battlefield.
BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!
Jerome’s relentless magic brought the Atrodé forces to their knees. They couldn’t advance, no matter how much they tried. The priests, drained and desperate, had no choice but to focus on protecting their remaining soldiers.

Above Jerome, a massive sphere of fire roared to life, blazing fiercely.
While targeting both soldiers and priests, Jerome had quietly gathered mana to create the inferno. The priests, seeing the fireball, paled. Its sheer intensity made it clear that stopping it wouldn’t be easy. If it fell on the soldiers, the devastation would be catastrophic.
Panicked, the priests regrouped to intercept him.

Whoosh!
"Ugh!"
But the fireball didn’t fall on the soldiers. Instead, it hurtled toward the nearest priest.

BOOM!
The explosion engulfed the priest, flames wrapping around him as he screamed in agony.
"Aaargh!"

The priest struggled to extinguish the fire, but his body was already charred, his flesh melted to the bone. Gasping for breath, he realized his wounds were fatal.
"Healing… it’s not working…."
Priests could typically heal all but the most severe injuries, but this time, the damage was beyond repair. The massive mana embedded in the attack lingered in his body, ensuring no recovery was possible.

"Truly… impressive…."
The priest, who had reached the level of a transcendent, couldn’t believe he was about to die from a single spell. His body wavered as he began to fall from the sky.
Before his death, he scattered the remnants of his energy into the air.

Thud.
And so, the priest crashed to the ground, lifeless. The black mist he released in the air grew thicker, consuming his energy.
In the darkened sky, light flashed once more.

Boom!
A bolt of blue lightning shot out in an instant, striking another priest directly.
Crack! Boom!

"Ugh…!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
Green orbs of light emanating from Jerome's hands relentlessly pursued and struck the priests. His magic was dazzling—flames, ice, and lightning surged through the battlefield.

Boom! Boom! Boom!
Each time the priests were hit directly by the spells, they suffered tremendous damage. Holes tore through their bodies, and bones shattered.
The only reason they were still alive was their desperate attempts to dodge and shield themselves from the attacks. However, even a moment’s carelessness would expose them to fatal strikes.

Crunch!
Another priest was caught in a gravity spell, his body crushed under its force, leaving him lifeless.
Now, only four priests remained. Fear began to creep onto their faces.

If they got too close, they would be struck down. But if they kept their distance to fight safely, their soldiers would fall instead. Neither choice seemed viable.
The mage, who had only been harassing their forces earlier, was now displaying overwhelming might.
Despite their terror, the priests gritted their teeth and endured. They still had a way to deal with Jerome.

"Wow…."
Some allied soldiers stared in awe at the scene.
Jerome, battling amidst flashes of light in the darkened sky, looked like a god.

Even without understanding magic, the sheer pressure of his presence made it clear that mages were in a league of their own.
Jerome, who had been suppressing the priests with his overwhelming skill, frowned.
"What are they up to?"

Even the priest who had just died had scattered his energy into the air before falling. The area around Jerome was growing darker, as though shrouded in storm clouds. Black energy gathered like mist, enveloping the battlefield.
As they fought, the priests continued to spread this black energy. Those who had died had fully released theirs upon death.
Jerome snapped his fingers, releasing a storm of wind from his body.

Whoosh!
The black mist momentarily receded, only to return in greater volume as the battle continued.
"These bastards… they’re scattering energy while retreating?"

It would take time for the dispersed energy to dissipate. The environment around him was becoming like the eerie fog of a Rift.
Anyone else within this space would feel an oppressive force constricting their body.
"They’re weakening… not me, but themselves."

The priests were growing weaker. Fighting while scattering their energy was bound to take a toll.
There was another reason the priests were still alive.
"Why hasn’t he shown up yet?"

Even as he fought, Jerome couldn’t fully focus on the priests.
With this much damage inflicted, the most powerful among them—Gatros—should have appeared by now. Yet, there was no sign of him.
This lingering absence kept Jerome on edge.

"Fall back! Pull back immediately!"
Voices began to rise as the Atrodé forces retreated from the battlefield.
It seemed the priests needed the soldiers out of the way to freely create distance from Jerome.

In other words, the fight was narrowing down to just the transcendent individuals, free of distractions.
"I need to finish off these priests quickly."
While battling the priests, Jerome occasionally fired spells at the retreating Atrodé soldiers. The enemy had undoubtedly taken considerable losses.

With the soldiers withdrawn, Jerome knew he had to kill the drained priests before Gatros appeared.
Swoosh!
Golden mana blades erupted from both of Jerome’s hands. The priests were visibly fatigued, and Jerome planned to close the distance and decapitate them in one swift move.

But then—
Whoooom!
The black mist suddenly surged and concentrated in one area.

The energy began to take the form of a massive humanoid figure, as if stretching after waking from a long slumber. Its upper body emerged from the black mist, appearing like a monstrous entity born from the clouds.
"What in the world…?"
Even Jerome, an 8th-circle mage, had never seen anything like this.

This wasn’t some illusion spell. It was a being with both substance and malevolence.
The black energy rippled as a face became clearer. Jerome instantly recognized it.
"Gatros."

The enormous visage of Gatros, made entirely of black mist, was nothing short of demonic.
Allied soldiers watching Jerome’s battle from the fortress began to tremble.
"W-what is that…?"

"It’s a demon. That’s a demon."
"Oh, goddess, please protect us…."
Even though it was only a torso, the figure was massive enough to blot out the sky.

It looked capable of crushing the fortress with a single hand.
Though the soldiers had grown used to witnessing terrifying monsters, this was beyond anything they had imagined. This enemy defied logic and comprehension.
The towering Gatros-like form grinned, baring its teeth.

"It’s a success…."
The words it spoke echoed across the battlefield, shaking the very space around them and spreading an oppressive aura that gripped the soldiers' souls.
Whoosh…

At the creature's forehead, black energy began to condense rapidly.
Seeing this, Jerome turned toward the fortress and shouted.
"Fall back!"

But the soldiers didn’t respond immediately.
Hearing the voice of Gatros had paralyzed them with fear. They stood frozen in place.
Then, a black beam shot out from Gatros’ forehead, sweeping across the battlefield.

Boom!
The brief but deafening roar signaled disaster as the black beam struck Jerome directly, sending his body plummeting from the sky.