Chapter 67
Chapter 67
Episode 67
Boom—boom—!
The deep, resonant sound of war drums echoed across the northern plains.
The drums were meant to celebrate the slaying of the Mountain Lord and boost morale—but they also signaled the reorganization of battle lines.
"Eighth Heavy Pike Company—to your positions!"
"You bastards! This is just the beginning!"
"Who the hell is walking?! Move your asses!"
The frontlines, torn apart by the tiger, were now in complete disarray.
A single beast's rampage had done this much damage.
Had its eyes not been blinded, the Empire would have suffered far greater losses.
Aiden couldn't help but feel relieved that things had ended at this level.
Of course, it wasn't truly over yet.
Something far more terrifying still remained.
The Einherjar, who had momentarily faltered, were now charging again.
But ordinary beasts could never easily break through the formations meticulously crafted by humans.
A dense forest of pikes stood unwavering.
The frenzied Einherjar roared as they kicked off the ground, attempting to leap over the formation—only to realize it was impossible.
Second line, third line, fourth line, fifth line...
The spear formations stretched as far as the eye could see.
The expressions of the hundreds of airborne Einherjar stiffened.
The third and fourth lines raised their pikes diagonally.
Six-and-a-half-meter-long blades shot upright in unison.
The beasts had no ability to alter their trajectory midair.
They fell—and were skewered like insects on pins.
The sickening sound of flesh being pierced, agonized screams, the clatter of weapons colliding, the triumphant cheers of soldiers—
All these sounds merged into a grotesque symphony.
The beasts impaled on the pikes convulsed before finally closing their eyes.
Blood trickled down the shafts, splattering onto the soldiers' faces.
The Einherjar charging from behind saw this sight and slowly regained their senses.
Then they looked around.
Iron-clad figures on horseback trampled their kin, while blades rained from the sky like a storm.
Not just that—fireballs and lightning bolts crashed down from the clear heavens, boulders crushed beasts into pulp, and sharp harpoons tore through flesh.
To them, it was no different from a natural disaster.
Humans screamed too, of course, but their suffering paled in comparison.
And yet, the beasts faced an even greater problem.
From the wide-open flanks of the snowy plains, dark lines began to form—slowly advancing.
The Einherjar, with their keen eyesight, immediately recognized what it was.
An endless net of humans—a slaughterhouse crafted just for them.
Some Einherjar finally grasped their situation.
Completely surrounded on all sides.
The encirclement tightened by the second, and human morale soared sky-high.
The fury of losing their gods clashed with their survival instincts, leaving them paralyzed.
The beasts could only desperately search for their chieftains and the White Beast King.
The moment the Beast Kings set foot in the north, the tide of battle would instantly turn.
But that hope would never come to pass.
The chieftains of each tribe would never come here.
They had a duty far more important than hunting humans—
The mission to fill the vacant divine thrones.
The chieftains had likely already left to seek out the bloodlines left behind by the slain gods.
The tiger had been an extreme exception—and Aiden knew its nature well.
Unaware of this truth, the Einherjar frantically searched for their leaders while being slaughtered in real time.
Barring any unforeseen events, most of them would be buried here.
Aiden sat at the rear of the battlefield, watching this spectacle as he waited for Fenrir.
The White Beast King, who would open a path for the beasts.
From Aiden's perspective, Fenrir had to appear and break through this encirclement.
In a way, it was a paradox.
Aiden, who had contributed more than anyone to the slaughter of the Einherjar, was now concerned for their safety.
Of course, there was a reason.
Because he would need them in the future.
Humans had to be the ones to dominate the continent, so crushing them now was unavoidable—but extinction was out of the question.
His plan was to deal them a near-crippling blow and scatter them to the winds.
As Aiden surveyed the battlefield, a scout from the Holy Guard rushed over in haste.
"Urgent report!"
Kneeling on one knee, the scout gasped for breath.
"A pack of Black Wolves has attacked the left flank of the encirclement!"
Aiden responded calmly.
"Did they come from the outside?"
The scout seemed slightly puzzled by Aiden's indifferent reaction but continued.
"Y-yes. They emerged from beyond the encirclement and are sweeping through our lines."
It seemed they had circumvented the canyon and scaled the barricades.
Their goal was likely to collapse the encirclement itself.
Just like in the original timeline, Fenrir was a beast that hadn't lost its reason.
Even if he had killed the Nine-Tails, he wouldn't act recklessly like the tiger.
Thus, he would never willingly enter the encirclement just to capture Gielran.
Gielran, sitting atop a hut's roof, looked at Aiden.
"Well, seems like your plan's hit a snag. The war might be won, but hunting Fenrir just became a distant dream."
As he said, the war itself was likely already won.
The Empire hadn't become the Einherjar's hunting ground, and countless beasts had already been slaughtered.
But the Black Wolf remained—an unresolved threat.
From Gielran's perspective, unless Fenrir entered this battlefield, the Empire had no means to hunt him down.
Aiden spoke.
"We'll pursue the wolf ourselves."
Gielran pondered briefly before shaking his head.
"I'm skeptical. The reason I could guarantee victory was because I trusted in the beast's impulsive nature and the strength of this formation. But from what I see, the wolf isn't impulsive. Moreover, if we chase after it, this frontline loses its purpose. We'd be losing both advantages at once."
Aiden nodded.
"You're right, Elder. However, the number of threats we need to worry about has also decreased. The tiger is dead, and the Einherjar's forces have been greatly diminished. Most importantly, we won't have to face the remaining chieftains."
Gielran frowned in confusion.
"What do you mean? That we won't encounter them?"
"My apologies. I can't explain in detail."
Aiden couldn't reveal the chieftains' duty—it was forbidden knowledge.
He continued calmly.
"It may sound forced, but please trust me. It's entirely possible to hunt him down."
With those words, Aiden headed toward the siege tower.
A 35-meter-tall siege tower positioned at the rearmost part of the frontline.
It served as the command center for non-combatants like the Saintess and the Holy Sons, as well as commanders of each division.
A hymn flowing from its highest point lifted the spirits of the wounded and bolstered morale across the battlefield.
Aiden climbed the ladder and stepped onto the tower's summit.
An enormous octagonal pavilion.
At each corner, the Saintess and Holy Sons sang in unison, while the commanders gathered in the center to discuss strategy.
The infantry chief of staff spoke.
"We've achieved sufficient results. If we pull the frontline back and stretch it horizontally, we can drive the beasts into the canyon."
They, too, had received reports of the encirclement being breached.
The Sacriliere Legion Commander nodded.
"I agree. Rather than focusing on pursuit, preventing the fleeing Einherjar from infiltrating the Empire should be our priority."
Most of the officials nodded in agreement.
For their opinions to align so perfectly—to Aiden, it was slightly unfamiliar.
The Crown Prince noticed Aiden and cleared his throat.
"Ah, you're here?"
His perpetually slumped shoulders were now straightened, his face brimming with confidence.
"Your Highness."
"Yes, haha."
The Prince glanced at his subordinates before turning his gaze back to Aiden.
"I suggested chasing down the beasts and killing them all, but they keep opposing me. What do you think? Wouldn't capturing them as slaves be better than outright slaughter?"
The Prince's lips curled up almost to his ears.
To anyone, it was clear—victory was within grasp, and he was drunk on the thrill of it.
And rightfully so.
The credit for this triumph would go to the commander, and his sister would no longer be able to ignore him.
The infantry chief of staff interjected.
"However, Your Highness, the chieftains and Fenrir are still alive. Rather than recklessly pursuing them, focusing our efforts on driving the beasts out of the north would be wiser."
The Prince's expression soured slightly.
"Ah, no. After seeing my army kill a tiger, you still say that? Weren't you the one who told me not to fear those stinking creatures? Turns out, you're the coward."
The Sacriliere Legion Commander cut in.
"Your Highness, that was only possible because the beast walked into our trap. If we chase them beyond the canyon, we'll end up like the tiger. Humans simply cannot endure the eternal winter's cold."
As the officials each added their piece, the Crown Prince's face darkened further.
He then slumped into his seat.
"Just because there's one hole in the net, you all panic."
Aiden looked at him and spoke.
"My opinion aligns somewhat with Your Highness's. While pursuing the entire Einherjar force is impossible, hunting the Black Wolf alone is well within our capabilities."
The Prince's face brightened again.
"Ah, yes! The hero knows what's what. Killing the enemy commander is the mark of a true victory."
The infantry chief of staff frowned.
"But Sir Aiden, you of all people should know—sending troops into that frozen wasteland would mean annihilation."
Aiden nodded.
"Which is why we should form a pursuit force of only the most elite—a regiment of about a thousand, excluding ordinary soldiers."
The commanders' reactions were less than enthusiastic.
Committing their strongest forces to such a high-risk operation was daunting.
Aiden continued.
"We'll select those capable of enduring the winter's cold. This northern front is already filled with warriors gathered from across the Empire—we'll make use of them."
Just as Aiden was about to speak again, a chilling howl echoed from the distant left horizon.
A sound that spelled disaster for humans—and salvation for beasts.
Fenrir.
The wolf had roared.
Aiden immediately looked down.
The densely packed dots across the snowy plains began sprinting in one direction.
The encirclement had been breached.
The cavalry chased after the fleeing beasts, trampling their rear lines.
Aiden turned back to the officials.
"Look at that. The beasts are responding to the Black Wolf's call. If we let him escape now, the Einherjar will gain a unifying force they've never had before."
Beasts abandoned by their chieftains would wholeheartedly follow the White Beast King who saved them.
And this was precisely the outcome Fenrir sought.
Aiden spoke plainly.
"I believe you all know why humans were able to claim dominance over the Einherjar on this continent."
If the beasts united under organized command like humans, no race on this continent could stop them.
And wolves were exceptionally skilled in pack tactics—the White Beast King was no fool either.
At the very least, he was far smarter than the man before Aiden who would become humanity's king.
(Not that Aiden planned to let that play out.)
In any case, letting Fenrir go would be disastrous.
The Sacriliere Legion Commander spoke.
"But the chieftains are still alive, no? Fenrir alone might be manageable, but what if we have to face all of them?"
Aiden shook his head.
"They won't come. No—they can't come."
"W-what do you—"
"I can only explain it as the backlash of killing divine beasts. If you're truly curious, you may refer to the forbidden texts I brought from Atlantis. You might infer the reason from them."
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances, coughing awkwardly.
The face of the Inquisitor Zeras flashed through their minds.
Once classified as forbidden, merely reading such texts was punishable by burning.
The chief of staff spoke cautiously.
"So you're saying... you acknowledge the contents of those texts as truth?"
"Forbidden texts are often a clever mix of fiction and reality."
"Then... could you explain the reason—"
"Chief of Staff, surely you're not asking me to divulge the contents of forbidden texts? Even I fear my master."
Yuriel, who had been singing hymns, shot Aiden a sidelong glance.
Liar.
There was no such content.
From what she had read, the forbidden texts only covered fragments of the Demon Realm's records.
Aiden swiftly changed the subject, looking at the Crown Prince.
"Regardless, Your Highness, I am confident. Please grant me your permission."
The Prince glanced at his subordinates before clearing his throat.
Then he spoke.
"V-very well. Proceed as you see fit."