The Regression Of A Grand Mercenary

My decision to kill the Devilish clown that roams the alleys and slums of the capital was a logical decision that would surely benefit my future and save the other lives as well.

From what I knew, the clown was able to amass over thousands of dead corpses…and using those corpses, he was able to grow his strength to unmatchalbe levels. It became such a threat that the king himself had to take charge of this incident.

It almost felt like a war between a single demon and nearly half of the army that was available in the kingdom at that time.

The powers that the demons play by don’t follow in the conventional sense that humans use. Their abilities were far apart of that of simple uses of pure cores and magic.

This demon in particular uses the corpses he gathers to not only enlarge his collection, but enlarge his powers as well. The resentment for each piled body made his influence stronger…

So I had to take action and kill the clown…

With that, lives will be saved, but in exchange, uncertainty grows for what next growing enemy will come to develop in the shadows of the kingdom.

But I don’t have to worry…yet.

My worries focuses on the present and right now, standing in front of me was my beautiful partner…Evelyn.

As she walked down the stares towards the carriage, I stood by and gaze at her beauty as she stood ever so glowing.

“How do I look?” she said as she descended the staircase, the morning light caught the shimmer of her gown — a radiant dress of soft gold and orange hues that flowed like petals in the wind. The intricate layers of silk and lace gently swayed with each of her graceful steps, and for a brief moment, Thill forgot to breathe.

She looked like a marigold in full bloom — warm, vibrant, and impossibly captivating. The color of her dress mirrored the golden sheen of her hair, cascading in delicate waves that framed her gentle face. Her amber eyes, glimmering with life and confidence, seemed to echo the same brilliance as the flower itself — the symbol of grace and strength in adversity.

A faint perfume of citrus and honey lingered as she walked, subtle yet enchanting, like the first scent of spring carried by the breeze. Every motion she made seemed deliberate yet effortless, as though elegance was her second nature.

I couldn’t help but smile softly.

“…You look breathtaking.” I said as I expressed this word will full of grace.

“Hmm, your beautiful dear.” said her father as he stood beside me as well by the carriage.

“Thank you father…Thank you Thill.” she said as she looked at me with a gaze only I know all to well.

It was the kind of stare she made when we were both alone in the bed chambers…cuddling through the night. A kind of charming…adult stare.

“You armor looks rugged…and edgy? Is that the right word?” she said as she looked at me wearing the armor from the bottom all the way to my neck.

“Yeah, I know I’m supposed to look inconspicuous during the entire parade, but this kind of armor isn’t really made for not standing out. Still, it’s the strongest armor I own. This can guarantee you safety.” I said.

The armor I had worn this day was the kind of armor I could only make in my free time, using the free materials I claimed from the body of the Armed Hydragon that Oxy was able to provide for me. The leftover parts were mostly after I made the pair of armors for Oxy…and what was left was an inferior version to his armor. Less large in build, less powerful in scale, but the hardness, the defense and abilities of this armor only comes second. With this armor, I am confident in protecting the entire Amber family.

The design itself was almost similar, but I made it less intimidating. Although the scales of the armed hydragon are ink-black…like poison, it looks less like the image of a dragon and more so that of a shadowy knight. With how black the armor was, it will most likely catch the attention of others, but as long as I conceal most of my presence in this entire parade, I doubt anyone will notice me too well.

In fact, I’m more worried about Evelyn because of how beautiful she looked…she might catch the attention of others more than my armor. But it’ll be worth the risk knowing that she can display her beauty outward and freely like so.

“Don’t worry though…I’ll make myself less suspicious and do my job.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you on that. Anyway…father, why are you also wearing armor?” she asked as she turned to her father who was wearing a full metal plated armor.

“Because this is the first time our family was personally invited to festival, I wanted my image to signify the strength I once had during my adventuring days. You might not believe me, but this armor was the one I used to wear back then.”

“It doesn’t look rusted at all.” she commented.

“Hm, I always take care of the things I love. Especially this armor…I visit it once every two weeks in the storage room to polish it myself personally. A man simply can’t abandon his past that easily…especially if it’s as grand as mine.” he said proudly.

“Father, are you sure you can wear this old armor? What did mother say?” asked Evelyn as she looked worried.

But before her father could answer, down came the steps of a woman from the entrance of the mansion.

“I told him he should look formal…this is after all the first parade we’ve been personally invited too. But he refuses to let go.” she said as she looked as elegant as ever.

“Don’t worry dear, just like Thill, I’ll be putting myself up front to protect you.” he said confidently.

“Sigh…okay then, as long as you don’t wear your helmet to cover your face, I won’t complain. This is a parade, so we’re supposed to show ourselves to the people.”

“Hmm, fine it’s a deal.” said Reginald as he finally agreed.

Now that we were all gathered, it was time to make our way to the festival.

While the family rode together inside a large open decorated carriage that flew their family’s banner, I on the other hand was given an armored horse that placed at the front of the carriage to act as the guard.

With my position placed, we moved ahead.

***

The streets were filled with all sorts of people—merchants, travelers, nobles, and peasants alike—all coming together in one vast, jubilant sea of life and sound. From every corner of the capital, voices mixed in laughter, cheers, and songs as confetti rained like petals from the sky.

Bright banners of red, blue, and gold fluttered across tall archways, their edges gleaming under the clear noonday sun. The smell of roasted nuts, baked bread, and spiced meats wafted through the streets, carried by the gentle breeze that brushed past thousands of fluttering flags. It was as if the entire capital itself had come alive.

Children perched on their parents’ shoulders, waving tiny flags of the kingdom, while performers in colorful costumes danced down the cobblestone paths—some juggling flaming batons, others playing flutes and drums that echoed with a rhythm that made even the stillest souls sway to its beat.

Trumpets sounded from the grand avenue ahead, the echo reverberating across every street.

“The parade is starting!” shouted a boy in excitement, tugging his mother’s sleeve.

And as if on cue, the great gates of the royal avenue opened, revealing the grand procession—knights in polished silver armor riding in formation, their lances raised high, followed by banners depicting each of the noble houses. The first to appear was the royal guard, clad in white and gold, their armor so pristine that it reflected the sunlight like divine halos.

Behind them, carriages rolled forward—each one more extravagant than the last. Floral arrangements hung from their sides, petals spilling onto the road as they passed. Musicians sat atop several carriages, playing horns and violins, filling the air with triumphant melodies.

And among them, the Amber family’s carriage gleamed with pride.

Their banner flowed proudly from its corners. The carriage itself was adorned with garlands of fresh flowers and lined with intricate carvings that told the tale of their lineage.

At the front of the procession, I rode on horseback, the sound of its hooves clattering rhythmically against the stone road. My armor, black as the void, caught faint glints of light with each movement, though I kept my presence minimal—avoiding the attention that Evelyn so naturally drew.

“Look! It’s the amber family!” someone from the crowd shouted.

“They finally joined the festival this year. What changed?” said some voices in the crowd.

And like the tide of the sea, thousands of eyes turned toward the carriage as Evelyn appeared from its open side. Her marigold dress shimmered in the sunlight, a living flame of gold and warmth amidst the crowd’s roar. Her smile—graceful yet modest—was enough to send ripples of awe through the people.

“She’s so beautiful!” cried a woman near the front row.

“Is that one of the daughters of the Amber family? She’s radiant.” another voice cheered.

Evelyn waved with gentle poise, her hand gloved in white lace. Each motion carried elegance, her expression calm yet full of warmth—so fitting for the daughter of one of the most respected merchant houses.

Her parents, sitting proudly beside her, acknowledged the crowd with practiced composure. Reginald, ever the imposing figure, sat upright in his old armor, his silver breastplate gleaming despite its age. And beside him, Lady Emilia Amber—Evelyn’s mother—was the image of dignified grace, dressed in a gown of deep burgundy that symbolized both power and beauty.

As we rode slightly forward, the voices continued to rise even more so.

“Lady Evelyn Amber! Over here!”

A voice shouted from the crowd—and then another, and another.

As our carriage rolled forward, cheers erupted all along the road.

I blinked, surprised. So many people…

The Amber family were merchants by blood, not nobles by title. Yet, from the way the crowd called their name, it felt as though they were royalty.

“Amber family!”

“Lady Evelyn! You look radiant!”

“Thank you for the work your family does for the kingdom!”

I turned my head slightly, glancing toward the carriage. Evelyn stood within it, smiling as she waved to the people lining the streets. Her marigold dress shimmered under the sunlight like a living flame, its color catching the golden hue of her hair and the gentle glow of her amber eyes. The cheers only grew louder wherever she passed, like ripples spreading across a lake.

Even from where I sat at the front on horseback, I could hear their voices carrying affection, respect—even admiration.

Despite being a merchant’s daughter, she was beloved by the people.

“Wow…” I muttered under my breath. “I knew that your family was amazing…but I didn’t realize just to what extent your fame precedes you.”

Reginald chuckled behind me, his proud voice carrying through the air. “Our name’s been around for decades, lad. When you’ve been trading goods and helping rebuild half the city’s markets, people tend to remember you.”

“And Evelyn,” Lady Amber added warmly, “People adore her especially…”

Still… seeing it like this, with my own eyes, was something else entirely.

Everywhere we went, people waved handkerchiefs and tossed flower petals toward the carriage. Children ran alongside the road shouting her name, while elderly merchants bowed their heads in respect. The cheers for the family weren’t just loud—they were sincere.

It wasn’t the kind of admiration nobles demanded.

It was the kind that was earned.

***

The cheers grew louder—deafening, almost thunderous—and soon, the sound of golden trumpets echoed from the plaza ahead. And the entire festival’s rhythm changed.

People began to part the streets, lining up along the sides in perfect order. Even the knights stationed along the route straightened their posture, slamming their shields in unison with a metallic thrum that rolled through the air like thunder.

Then came the royal guard—rows upon rows of soldiers dressed in armor that gleamed like sunlight on polished water. Their capes fluttered behind them in unison, dyed in gold and white, the sacred colors of the kingdom.

And at the center of it all, the royal carriage appeared.

Its surface was crafted from ivory and gilded with gold, the sides engraved with the intricate sigil of the Goldensun Family—a radiant sun surrounded by twelve rays, each representing the virtues of the realm. The sight of that banner waving above the carriage drew another roar from the crowd, their voices rising like a single tide of devotion.

“The King! His Majesty, the King!”

“Long live the Goldensuns!”

The air itself seemed to shimmer in reverence as the royal family emerged into view.

The king sat atop his seat with a posture that could only be described as regal yet kind. His gray hair flowed freely beneath a thin crown of made and shaped to look like a crown of thorns, and his eyes burned with the warmth of dawn itself. The man’s very presence radiated authority, not through fear or power, but through the sheer weight of the light that surrounded him.

Beside him sat the queen, her expression gentle and composed. She waved gracefully to the people, her smile serene enough to quiet even the loudest cheers. Her gown shimmered in threads of white silk that seemed to carry the morning sun itself—pure and divine.

Following them were their children—the royal heirs of the Goldensun line.

The moment the royal family appeared, the air of celebration transformed into reverence. The people’s cheers swelled to a thunderous wave as the banner of the Goldensun family—a radiant golden sun emblazoned upon white silk—fluttered high above the royal carriage.

At the front rode Vello Constance Goldensun, the eldest prince, his white-and-gold military uniform gleaming beneath the afternoon sun. Every movement he made exuded nobility; his posture was sharp, his expression calm and resolute. The golden sword at his hip caught the light of his father’s crest, shimmering like a divine symbol. Handsome, disciplined, and dignified—he was the embodiment of a king’s heir.

Beside him stood Princess Velorria, her amethyst hair swaying in the gentle wind as she waved gracefully to the crowd. Her beauty was refined, ethereal even—but behind her calm smile lingered a subtle sorrow, one that no one else seemed to notice. Her eyes, soft and distant, carried the weight of remembrance… for she alone saw this moment as more than ceremony. To her, it was a fragment of déjà vu—something that once belonged to her, now merely replaying itself before her eyes.

Seated just behind the king was the second prince, Vincent Cole Goldensun. In stark contrast to his elder brother’s elegance, Vincent’s presence was raw and commanding. His physique was that of a warrior forged by countless battles, and even while seated, his aura spoke of unyielding might. With his ink-black hair and fierce golden eyes, he looked more like a lion than a prince. The people roared his name as he passed; to them, he was not just royalty—he was their hero.

The third sibling, Princess Verice Goldensun, followed soon after. She was beauty incarnate—poised, serene, and graceful beyond measure. Her smile was the calm flow of a river, her golden eyes radiating warmth like sunlight on water. Her amethyst hair glimmered with a deeper hue than Velorria’s, and her presence carried an almost divine serenity. Known as the voice of the church and a beacon of faith, her influence reached far beyond the palace walls—second only to the queen herself.

Then came Prince Venice, the fourth child, whose refined composure reflected his strong alliances with the merchant guilds. While he lacked the overwhelming presence of his elder brothers, his cunning and charisma had secured his reputation as the royal family’s bridge to the common folk.

Beside him was Princess Valorie Kind, the fifth child, a woman beloved for her compassion and strength. She carried herself with quiet confidence, the blade at her hip a symbol of her skill in swordsmanship. Yet her kindness was what truly made her known—so much so that the people often called her Saint Valorie.

And lastly, at the far end of the procession, was Prince Ven, the sixth child—the kingdom’s black sheep. His disheveled appearance and lazy smirk stood in stark contrast to the pristine image of his siblings. Rumors clung to him like smoke—tales of drunken nights, gambling, and secret lovers hidden throughout the city. There were even rumors of him having a hidden family deep in the kingdom. Yet despite his scandalous reputation, those who knew better whispered of his unmatched genius in magic. A prodigy, buried beneath his vices.

And then… there was Velorria again.

Unlike the others, she did not wave as fervently nor smile as brightly. Instead, she watched the world before her with quiet contemplation. Her influence had grown beyond measure—politically, spiritually, and even among the nobles themselves. Alongside her elder siblings, she was one of the few whose name was spoken as a possible heir to the throne.

Their arrival reshaped the entire atmosphere.

The streets, once alive with simple cheers for merchants and commoners, now burned with golden brilliance and reverent awe. The Goldensun family had arrived—and with them, the very weight of the kingdom’s legacy descended upon the city once more.

Where the cheers for Evelyn and the Ambers were warm and familiar, the cheers for the Goldensuns were almost divine. People didn’t just celebrate them—they worshipped them. The difference was vast, almost chilling.

Every head bowed. Every voice cried in reverence.

Even Reginald straightened up in the carriage beside his family, his earlier grin fading into something more solemn.

Lady Amber clasped her hands together. “His Majesty looks so young still despite the gray hairs… it’s hard to believe he’s ruled for over four decades. ”

Evelyn watched quietly, the sunlight reflecting in her eyes. “You can really tell that…he is king. His presence doesn’t deny this fact.”

She wasn’t wrong.

Even from where I stood, I could feel the warmth emanating from him—the aura of a man who carried the entire kingdom on his shoulders. It wasn’t magic, at least not the kind one could measure. It was something deeper. The kind of power that came only from years of leading, of carrying both light and burden.

As the royal carriage passed, the Amber family’s carriage came to a slow stop to allow the King’s procession to move ahead. The royal banners fluttered gently overhead, the golden sigil gleaming brilliantly against the clear blue sky.

And then, something strange happened.

The King turned his head slightly—just enough for his eyes to meet Evelyn’s.

For a brief second, the air around us stilled.

His golden eyes softened, and he gave a nod. A small, almost imperceptible gesture of acknowledgment.

Evelyn blinked, caught off guard, but managed a respectful bow in return.

The people gasped softly, whispering in excitement. The King acknowledged her… the merchant’s daughter…?

Even I felt the weight of it. That wasn’t something he did for just anyone.

As the royal carriage rolled onward, the music swelled once more, and the crowd erupted into cheers again—only louder, brighter, and more spirited than before.

The Goldensun banner waved proudly in the wind, glinting under the brilliance of the sun.

And for a moment… the world looked perfect.

The people were smiling. The royal family was radiant. The Amber family basked in recognition they’d never known before.

But as I glanced again toward the rooftops… my smile faded.

Between the golden confetti and the flags waving high above, I caught a faint flicker of movement.

A shadow darting between the banners.

And for the briefest second—I swore I saw it.

A painted grin.

Wide. Red. And smiling.

The sound of laughter—too faint for anyone else to hear—echoed in my ears, vanishing just as the next trumpet blared to announce the King’s speech.

“…”

I tightened my grip on the reins, my eyes scanning the rooftops once more.