The Regression Of A Grand Mercenary - 73 - Celebrate With Foods, Drinks, Laughs and Love.

Having witnessed their fight, I cannot lie—I was proud.

Pride is a dangerous thing, one I’ve trained myself to resist. It blinds men, makes them think their students are ready long before they are. But standing here, watching these fifty boys survive the impossible… even I cannot deny the swell in my chest.

They stood against a six-meter Frostbound Colossus. A monster even seasoned warriors avoid. Its very presence brought a storm that should have scattered them like leaves in the wind. Yet they held. They adapted. They endured.

I can still see it: Mario rallying them when the storm blinded their sight, Garon’s arrows piercing through the chaos, the shields locking tight against the monster’s earthshaking blows. And Astin… Astin charging forward with his spear, eyes alight not with fear, but with resolve.

Especially him. Out of everyone, his growth is most remarkable. That boy carries weight as if born for it. He reminds me of someone I once knew… someone who could rally men just by standing beside them.

But I must not let pride blind me. Some of the boys are still barely hanging on. Their bodies scream exhaustion. A few are close to collapse. If I do not act now, one or two may not survive the night.

Fortunately, I came prepared. Deep in the forest, I hunted a rare bird whose divine feathers hold the warmth of repair. A phoenix’s feather… a priceless thing. To use it here may seem wasteful to some, but to me, it is the only acceptable choice.

Many would spend hundreds of gold just to claim a single feather…and seeing the value of heir success, it is only right that the boys go home fresh in both blood and flesh.

I promised their families they would return alive. And I will keep that promise.

***

Evelyn’s POV:

The sun sank behind the horizon, painting the snow in hues of dying fire. I sat by my desk, staring at nothing, unable to shake the restless feeling clawing at my chest.

By now, surely, Captain Thill and the boys should be finished. The test had lasted long enough. Every hour that passed without word gnawed at me more.

It has been five days since I found myself in my room. Five days since… since what? That is the question that keeps haunting me.

I could still remember it then— When Thill showed me that he could fly. I remember the storm rolling in, winds that howled like wolves. But after that… nothing.

Like torn pages from a book, my mind cannot process the time passing then.

‘Why can’t I remember? Memories don’t simply vanish like that…’

The thought chills me more than the storm outside ever could.

Throughout my worries…

‘…If anyone can help me figure out my lost memory…surely Thill can explain them to me. After all, he was the one who carried me home.’ I thought deeply…

Yet suddenly, a knock broke my thoughts.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

A maid entered my room, pushing her cart. After she placed it near me, she left a tray of tea and biscuits on the desk, and bowed softly before taking her leave.

Having looked at the maid…it always fills me with an odd curiosity towards her. After all…unlike the rest of the the maids my family hired, she was the one who seems more distant than the rest.

Unlike the rest of the maids who seem to want to be friendly with me whenever I pass by, she alone acts cold and distant…which worries me.

I can’t help but wonder if she has any ulterior motives…after all, my family will sometimes create enemies from all directions for being a rather successful…if not the most successful merchant family in the country. I’m always worried when she comes into my room by herself…

I’m worried that she’ll one day stab me in the back…

I tried pressing this issue to Desmond, but for some reason, he thinks differently from me.

{Miss Evelyn, sometimes not all people are as social as some can imagine. There are those who simply do not know how to express themselves fondly in front of another person. I myself can find it hard to make friends and act friendly towards a stranger…but do not let this get you down miss, she is simply doing her job.} Is what I remember Desmond saying.

So, taking him at his word, I calmly reached for the cup and drank my tea.

As I did, all of a sudden, I found something odd placed beside my tea kettle. Beside it lay an envelope. A letter I had not noticed her place.

“…Hmm?” seeing it, my fear only grew more of her identity.

Yet still, this letter might be important. So I opened it with trembling fingers. My eyes skimmed the words—and froze.

Shock seized me.

“…I-Is this… real?”

The parchment trembled in my hands. I read it again. And again. Each time, the words only seemed heavier, more impossible.

I could not let anyone else see this. With fumbling haste, I shoved the letter into my desk drawer and turned the key, locking it away. My heart thundered in my ears.

Before I could even breathe, the door burst open.

“Miss Evelyn!” Desmond rushed in, cheeks flushed, eyes alight with joy. “They’re back! Sir Thill and the boys—they’ve returned!”

My heart leapt. All of sudden, my attention was somewhere else immediately.

Without hesitation, I left the desk behind, the locked drawer containing its secret. Together, Desmond and I hurried through the halls, down the stairs and out to the walls of my home.

And then I saw them.

From the distance, Fifty of them walked in a marching unison. Their cloaks torn, armor cracked, skin pale with exhaustion. But alive. Every single one.

Their faces told the story—the wild-eyed fear of battle still clinging to them, but over it, something new. A weight. A strength.

A boy stood at the front, his spear still clutched in his hand. His clothes were in tatters, blood—some his, some not—stained his arms and chest. Yet he held himself tall, his back straight, his eyes steady.

***

The road back to the village was quiet at first. No songs, no chatter—just the crunch of boots in snow and the rasp of weary breaths. The boys marched with tired faces, their bodies bearing the weight of battle, but their steps… their steps carried honor.

Behind them, their testament followed.

The corpse of the Frostbound Colossus—six meters of frozen death—drifted above the snow, suspended by currents of invisible wind. Its shattered body, its missing leg, and the spear wound that still gaped in its chest told the story louder than any words could.

When the first villagers spotted them, gasps echoed. Doors opened, shutters creaked, and in moments the road was lined with people. Men, women, and children stared wide-eyed at the sight of their sons, nephews, and neighbors—bloodied but alive—returning from what all believed to be certain death.

And then their eyes rose higher, to the impossible thing drifting behind them.

A dead Colossus.

The awe that fell over the crowd was near reverent. Children clutched their mothers’ skirts, old men pressed trembling hands together in disbelief, and whispers spread like wildfire.

When the boys reached the village square, Thill stepped forward. His cloak rippled with the winds that bore the monstrous corpse, his presence commanding silence. He walked lightly, in presenting himself to be calm.

Yet still, all eyes turned to him. The villagers were ready to heap glory at his feet, to believe that only their legendary captain could have slain such a beast.

But Thill raised his hand, and his voice cut clear over the hushed crowd.

“Do not mistake this victory as mine. It was not me who has slain the colossus…I have simply watched over them as they themselves made the act to fight this beast! In my teachings…and in their decision to act, they have slayed this beast!!”

A murmur rippled through the people.

He gestured—not to the Colossus, but to the boys, standing battered in the snow.

“It was them. Their blades. Their shields. Their courage. Against this monster, they stood together and refused to fall. They fought even when their hearts spoke of running away! When monsters came about in all directions, they fought bravely like a knight against the demons! And through their efforts alone, the Colossus and many more monsters fell! Wolves! Goblins! Ogres! Harpies! Many have fallen by their hands!”

The words hung in the cold air like thunder. For a heartbeat, no one moved. And then—cheers erupted.

The square shook with voices. The villagers raised their fists and cried the boys’ names. Some of the mothers sobbed openly, rushing forward to touch their sons’ faces, to pull them into desperate embraces. Others clapped them on the shoulders, shouting praise. The children, wide-eyed, stared at the boys as if they were already legends.

Astin felt the weight of it. All of them did. For the first time, they weren’t just trainees, or reckless boys pretending at war. They were warriors—acknowledged not only by their captain, but by their people.

In the midst of the jubilation, Evelyn stepped forward. Her dress swept the snow, her voice rising above the roar of the crowd.

“Tonight,” she declared, “we celebrate! To every man and boy who fought for this village, and to every soul who carried his brother home—tonight, the tavern’s drink and food are on the house!”

The announcement sent another wave of cheers through the square. Laughter burst out, men slapped each other on the backs, and already the tavern doors were being flung wide, lanterns lit, fires stoked.

Astin, Mario, Garon, and the rest of the boys stood in the midst of it all—tired beyond words, aching in every limb, but unable to hide the fire of pride in their eyes. They had faced the impossible and returned not only alive, but victorious.

And above them, the dead Colossus hung in the air like a banner of their triumph.

That night, the village would not sleep. That night, they would feast.

And that night, fifty boys became men in the eyes of their people.

***

As the square rang with cheers, and the tavern overflowed with laughter and song, I slipped away. The boys deserved to bask in the warmth of their people, to tell their stories, to boast and laugh and cry all in the same breath.

But me? I wanted only the quiet of home.

By the time I reached the door, the smell of warm stew already met me. The sound of chatter spilled faintly from within, a comfort I hadn’t felt in what felt like years.

Inside, the table was full. My sisters—Theresa, steady as ever, her hands folded neatly; Thalia, bright-eyed, already peppering me with questions the moment she saw me; and little Tilly, bouncing in her seat with unrestrained joy.

“Brother!” she cried, nearly leaping over the table before Theresa caught her sleeve.

“Careful, Tilly. Let him sit down first.”

I smiled despite the exhaustion weighing down my shoulders. Across from me sat Evelyn, her posture elegant as always, yet her eyes softer now, warmer. She had chosen the seat beside me, close enough that our arms brushed whenever we reached for the bread.

The empty chairs of my brothers reminded me they were still out in the city, chasing their ambitions. For tonight, at least, I carried enough of their spirit home with me.

We ate together, bowls of stew steaming in the cold night air that seeped through the walls, bread broken and shared between hands that trembled from excitement more than hunger. The girls listened as I spoke—not of glory, but of struggle. Of the cold. The fear. The weight of it all.

Thalia’s brows furrowed as if she could picture every step. Theresa only watched me quietly, perhaps seeing through the words to the exhaustion beneath. And Tilly—sweet, innocent Tilly—clapped her hands at every mention of monsters, her eyes wide as if I were telling her the greatest story ever told.

Evelyn said little, at first. She simply listened, her gaze never leaving me. But when I faltered, when I hesitated at the memory of the Glacial Dragon’s gaze bearing down on me, she reached beneath the table and set her hand lightly on mine.

A small, steady warmth. A reminder that I was home. That I had made it back. I was at the second chance of my life…a life filled with peace.

For the first time in days, I let out a true breath.

Tonight, the village celebrated.

But here, in the quiet of my home, I remembered why I fought in the first place.

Not for glory. Not for titles.

But for this table, for these faces, for the laughter and warmth that no battle could ever take away.

Unlike my first life where I was lead ahead to survive because of the promise I had to keep under my sister’s dying voice, this life itself was the complete opposite…and I couldn’t help but smile.

Peace…peace at last.

***

After we ate, I walked myself out of my own home and down to the stream where a tree stood by itself. The water’s soft murmur carried through the night, the cold air brushing against my face like a whisper from the stars above. It was quiet here—peaceful—and for once, I felt as though I could finally rest.

But I wasn’t alone.

Minutes after I had settled beneath the tree, I heard voices. Youthful, drunken, full of unrestrained laughter. Two figures stumbled into view, swaying slightly as they teased and nudged one another.

It was obvious they had come from the village’s celebration, their cheeks flushed from drink, their words slurred in playful tones.

“Of all places…” I muttered under my breath, climbing lightly up into the branches of the tree. Hidden in the shadows, I watched, amused.

The boy carried himself with the awkward pride of youth trying too hard to be a man. His laughter was just a touch too loud, his movements just a touch too clumsy. But as the moonlight fell across his face, recognition struck me.

Relin. The Village Elder’s grandson. Seventeen years old, bold enough to sneak off during a festival, and apparently lucky enough to have found himself in this situation.

‘Whoa… Relin, huh? Didn’t think you had it in you.’ I thought, stifling a grin.

The girl beside him was harder to place. A soft face framed by hair that caught the moonlight, her frilly dress fluttering slightly in the night breeze. She had clearly chosen it with care, hoping to catch his eye—and from the way Relin’s gaze lingered on her, it worked.

They leaned against the tree’s roots, their laughter settling into softer tones. Words slipped between them—half-confessions, half-teasing jabs. Relin reached for her hand; she didn’t pull away. Instead, she tilted her head and whispered something that made him flush all the way to his ears.

‘Well, well, Relin… looks like someone’s finally getting lucky tonight.’

I leaned forward a little more, listening in as the two of them exchanged awkward compliments and clumsy flirtations. Relin tried to sound confident, but his voice cracked halfway through a sentence. The girl laughed, not unkindly, and leaned closer.

‘Oh, this is gold,’ I thought, smirking. ‘Captain Thill, commander of boys… reduced to tree-dwelling eavesdropper of young romance.’

And just as Relin leaned in for what was clearly his first kiss—

“Thill.”

The voice was sharp, cold, and very, very familiar.

I froze.

Slowly, I turned my head.

At the base of the tree, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently against the ground, stood Evelyn.

Her eyes narrowed, glinting in the moonlight.

“…What exactly are you doing up there?” she asked.

“Uhh—” I blinked. “…Scouting?”

Her brow twitched. “Scouting… for what? Two teenagers sneaking a kiss under a tree?”

Below me, Relin and the girl whipped around, eyes wide in panic. Relin practically jumped a meter back, stammering nonsense while the poor girl covered her face in embarrassment.

“I—uh—no, it’s not what it looks like,” I tried, scrambling for words. “I was just, uh, making sure no monsters were lurking nearby.”

“Yes. Because the most dangerous thing in this forest,” Evelyn said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “is apparently teenage hormones.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying not to look guilty. “Well…you never know.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Get down, Thill.”

Reluctantly, I climbed down from the branch, landing beside her. She gave me the kind of look that could silence a battlefield.

“Honestly,” she muttered, turning away. “You fight monsters by day and spy on children at night? What am I supposed to do with you?”

Behind us, Relin and his girl bolted into the dark, faces redder than the tavern’s wine.

I scratched my cheek, avoiding Evelyn’s glare. “…Ah…hahaha, I was just—”

“…”

“N-nothing.” It was obvious she was angry… very much so.

But then her expression softened. She let out a breath, her voice quieter. “Geez… I forget sometimes that just because you’re out there fighting monsters and teaching boys your age to fight, that in the end… we’re both just teenagers as well. I’m 18… you’re 18… I guess… we forget that, huh?”

She looked at me, and this time there was no sarcasm in her eyes. Just a faint, almost shy smile.

“…”

Looking at her, I couldn’t help but be drawn in by her blushing face.

“…I’m sorry,” I muttered, trying to offer something, anything, to ease the tension.

But instead of the anger I expected, Evelyn’s expression softened into something gentler—something almost worried.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I can’t really blame you. After all… it has been a while since we’ve done something together.”

Her words lingered in the air, carrying more weight than just the surface meaning. A faint smile tugged at her lips, a blush deepening on her cheeks as she hinted—boldly yet shyly—at the closeness we’d once shared.

The warmth in her eyes pulled me in, dissolving whatever hesitation still lingered in my chest.

Without another thought, I leaned forward—closing the distance—and kissed her.

Seconds later, I drew back just enough to murmur softly against her ear.

“…What do you want to do?”

She didn’t answer with words at first. She only smiled—a knowing, playful, and yes, almost mischievous smile that sent a shiver down my spine. Then, with a glance, she tilted her head toward the direction of her home.

Our eyes met, no more words needed.

I pulled her close, holding her against my chest as I let the wind gather at my back. My wings unfurled, great and unseen currents carrying us skyward. In an instant, we were soaring above the village, lanterns and rooftops falling away beneath us, until her window came into view.

I landed lightly, setting her down as though she were the most precious thing in the world.

And the next thing I knew…

We made love to each other the moment I placed her to her bed.

***

The next morning, the air inside Evelyn’s home smelled faintly of baked bread and spiced tea. I sat at the table, still a little groggy from the night before, while Evelyn hummed quietly beside me, cutting her toast with a knife far too delicate for her mood. She was practically glowing.

Meanwhile, across from us, Desmond sat stiff-backed with his arms crossed, glaring at the both of us as if we were misbehaving children caught sneaking sweets before dinner.

The silence was unbearable. Every scrape of the knife against the plate sounded louder. Every sip of tea felt suspicious. Evelyn tried to ignore him, but I could feel the heat of his stare boring a hole through my forehead.

Finally, I cleared my throat. “…Desmond, you’re staring.”

He didn’t flinch. His eyes narrowed further. “I don’t stare. I observe.”

“Uh-huh.” I muttered, stabbing my bread with unnecessary force.

Beside me, Evelyn let out a soft laugh and patted my hand as though I were the one in trouble. “Oh, Desmond, don’t sulk. You look like an angry grandfather.”

“Angry grandfather?” Desmond huffed, sitting even straighter. “Miss Evelyn, forgive me, but someone has to uphold decorum.” He cut his gaze back to me, eyes sharp as daggers. “Unlike some people.”

I coughed into my tea. “…Look, it’s not what it looks like.”

Evelyn snorted, failing to suppress her laughter.

Desmond shook his head, muttering like a disapproving parent. “Unbelievable. Monsters slain in the forest, honor brought to the village—and this is what follows.”

“…You make it sound like we committed a crime,” I said, scowling.

“Did you?” he shot back.

Evelyn finally broke, laughing openly now, her cheeks red. She leaned against me and smiled. “Desmond, you’ll just have to get used to it. After all…we’re not children anymore.”

Desmond’s face twitched. He grumbled something unintelligible, picked up his teacup, and muttered into it: “Could’ve fooled me.”