Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 35
Chapter Title: Valhalla's Charge
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“What do you mean? Over a hundred?”
“Exactly what I said.”
Carlyle answered Kudo's question, his eyes still gently closed.
“I can feel their presence. Roughly a hundred or more.”
Grimungandr was truly worthy of being the Succession Sword of the Chaos King.
It had detected the bloodlust of the barbarians approaching the fortress, informing its master, Carlyle, of not only their presence but also their approximate numbers.
“Is that really true?”
“Yes.”
Carlyle nodded.
“The distance… what's the distance?”
“They're still far, but they'll be close soon. About five to ten minutes?”
To Carlyle, it felt as if the barbarians were slowly tightening a noose, encircling Bowden Fortress.
He suspected their intention was to eliminate the sentries posted around the perimeter and then storm the fortress like a tidal wave.
“Then we must move. We don't have time to stand around.”
“Ah, yes.”
Kudo pulled Carlyle along.
If what Carlyle said was true, this was an emergency.
A small fortress garrisoned by only about seventy men being attacked by over a hundred enemies meant they might have to prepare for annihilation.
“I'll go wake the reconnaissance team. Sir Carlyle, please inform Lady Helen of the news.”
“I will.”
Following Kudo's instructions, Carlyle immediately ran to Helen's office, which also served as her quarters.
*CRASH!*
*SMASH!*
Without even a moment to knock, Carlyle smashed down the door to Helen's office and quarters.
Helen wasn't asleep.
Perhaps attending to her administrative duties as commander, she was at her old, crude desk, writing something on a piece of parchment.
“Finally showing your true colors, Carlyle van Sigmund.”
Helen growled, grabbing the sword she had placed beside her desk.
“You disgusting beast. No matter how hard it is to control yourself, how could you…”
“It's not like that.”
Carlyle cut Helen off.
“What kind of madman would think of forcing himself on his commander?”
“You're more than capa—”
“The enemy is attacking.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Exactly what I said. The enemy is approaching.”
“And how would you know that?”
“This.”
Carlyle showed Helen Grimungandr.
“As you may know, it's a unique power of my Succession Sword.”
“Ah!”
“There's no time.”
Carlyle closed his eyes gently and listened to Grimungandr's voice.
“They're slowly surrounding us. If this continues, we'll be overrun.”
“I understand for now.”
Helen shot up from her seat.
“I'll trust your Succession Sword for now.”
“As you wish.”
Carlyle didn't care what Helen chose to believe.
Whether she trusted Carlyle van Sigmund or his Succession Sword, what did it matter?
The only important thing was that Helen was taking action.
* * *
“Everyone, quietly and swiftly, prepare for the enemy's attack.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Helen, along with the now-awake reconnaissance team members, woke up the engineers and ordered them to assume combat readiness.
*'So this is what a real war feels like.'*
Watching his allies bustle about, Carlyle finally felt that he had truly arrived on a battlefield.
A place where dozens of battles erupted daily among the scores of large and small fortresses scattered across the vast primeval forest.
This was the reality of Kuberin, the land known as the Blood-Soaked Land.
“Private Carlyle.”
“Yes, Lady Helen.”
“How close are the enemies?”
“Let me check.”
Carlyle gripped Grimungandr and focused his mind.
Through its detection ability, Grimungandr provided a remarkably detailed account of the enemies' location and distance.
“They're still some distance away. About 200 meters.”
“Their speed?”
“Quite slow.”
“How much time do we have?”
“One moment.”
Carlyle took a pocket watch from his coat, estimated their arrival time based on their movement speed, and answered.
“At this pace, we still have about ten minutes.”
“That's a relief.”
Helen nodded and commanded her soldiers.
“All troops, assume full combat readiness and prepare for the enemy attack!”
“Yes, ma'am!”
At Helen's command, the soldiers moved in perfect sync, drawing spears and bows to prepare for the impending raid.
“Hmm.”
With no specific orders, Carlyle stood there blankly for a moment before a sudden thought made him frown.
*'Can we hold out?'*
Bowden Fortress was surrounded by a wooden palisade, so its defensive capabilities were hardly reliable.
The gate was also made of logs lashed together, making it easy to breach.
Besides, the enemy outnumbered them by nearly two to one.
*'The gate will definitely be breached. When they storm in... can the reconnaissance team alone hold them off?'*
In Carlyle's judgment, the vast majority of the troops stationed at Bowden Fortress were non-combat engineers. Even if Helen and the reconnaissance team fought valiantly, it was bound to be a difficult battle.
*'There has to be a way... Ah.'*
An idea flashed through Carlyle's mind, and he turned to Helen.
“Lady Helen.”
“What is it?”
“Traps.”
“Traps…?”
“Let's plant magic stone traps at the fortress entrance.”
“…!”
“We still have some time, so I think it's possible.”
“Are you suggesting we lure the enemy in?”
“Not luring them. The gate is going to be breached anyway.”
“Does your Succession Sword tell you that as well?”
“It's because there are so many of them.”
“Alright, we'll do as you say.”
Helen was not a rigid commander; she readily accepted the tactic Carlyle proposed.
“Engineer Platoon 3. Bring the magic stone traps from the warehouse and set them at the fortress entrance.”
“Yes, ma'am.”
Following Helen's command, the engineers began planting the magic stone traps at the fortress entrance.
“How much longer?”
“About a minute.”
Carlyle answered Helen's question.
He could feel it.
The enemies, who had been approaching slowly, were now picking up speed, charging recklessly toward the fortress.
He wasn't trembling.
Nor was he afraid.
*'Yes, even if I die, I'll take one more of them with me. Just as you wished.'*
Carlyle sneered inwardly at his father, Grand Duke Guntram, who had sent him to Bowden Fortress, and gripped Grimungandr tightly.
* * *
“Valhallaaaaa—!!!”
The barbarian warriors let out a fierce war cry as they charged toward Bowden Fortress.
The "Valhalla" they cried was one of the afterlives the barbarians believed in, a paradise that only those who fell in battle could enter.
The barbarians considered it a great honor to die fighting an enemy, and of all forms of death, death in battle was held as the most noble.
Perhaps for this reason, the barbarian warriors always began their battles with the cry of "Valhalla."
“Kill them all! Leave no one alive! Valhallaaaaa!”
Bjornsen, a centurion of the Butcher Tribe, screamed as he sprinted at full speed toward the continentals' fortress.
“Valhallaaaaa!”
A hundred barbarian warriors charged after Bjornsen.
*FWOOSH!*
As if on cue, a rain of arrows poured down.
“Foolish.”
*THWANG!*
Bjornsen precisely deflected an incoming arrow with his shield and grinned.
“You're quicker on the uptake than I thought, but do you really think that will be enough to protect that pathetic, crumbling shack! Grokan! Open the way!”
“Yes, sir!”
Grokan was a barbarian warrior of immense stature.
“O valiant and cruel ancestors!”
Grokan chanted an incantation of invocation.
It was a racial trait and unique ability of the barbarian warriors.
Through the tattoos inscribed by their shamans, they could commune with the spirits of their ancestors and invoke their power.
“I, Grokan, son of Kardu, require the monstrous strength to shatter the enemy's gate…”
The more he chanted, the larger Grokan's body grew, until he was nearly the size of an ogre.
Considering that an ogre, often called the tyrant and king of the forest, stands three meters tall and weighs around 500 kilograms, he had grown to a size that could no longer be called human.
“Hmph!”
Grokan took a deep breath and charged toward the fortress gate like an enraged ogre.
*THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!*
His charge was so reckless that his heavy footfalls seemed to shake the very earth.
*Ting, twang!*
The arrows aimed at Grokan bounced harmlessly off him.
At that moment, nothing could stop Grokan.
Reaching the fortress gate in the blink of an eye, a thunderous roar erupted from Grokan's lips.
“Val-hallaaaaaaa—!!!”
*KRA-BOOOOM!*
*CRASH!*
Grokan's body slam shattered the log gate into pieces.
Grokan didn't stop.
*THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD-THUD!*
Unable to control his momentum, he only came to a halt after colliding head-on with a stone building inside the fortress.
“Valiant and cruel warriors of the Butcher Tribe! The gate is open! All units, advance!”
“Valhallaaaaa!”
At Bjornsen's cry, the barbarian warriors charged madly toward the wide-open fortress gate.
* * *
*CRASH!*
*RUMBLE!*
“Insane.”
A hollow mutter escaped Carlyle's lips as he watched the wall crumble.
To not only break down the gate but also demolish a stone building inside the fortress…
*'Was the power of Destruction Juggernaut this great?'*
Carlyle knew all too well what skill the barbarian warrior had used to destroy the gate and the building wall.
[Destruction Juggernaut] was a skill usable by 3-star warriors who had three tattoos on their bodies.
During its casting time, the user became unstoppable and immune to crowd control effects like stun, blind, and knockback, making it a substitute for a battering ram for the barbarians, who lacked siege weapons.
However, it had critical weaknesses: it was extremely difficult to steer, and the caster would be stunned for a few seconds after impact.
“I'll take care of him!”
Kudo lunged toward the barbarian warrior who had cast [Destruction Juggernaut].
The way he rushed in showed that he, too, knew of the skill's weakness.
*'He'll handle it.'*
Carlyle turned his head toward the main gate.
The war cries of the barbarian warriors were growing closer.
“All troops, to your positions!”
“To your positions!”
At Helen's shout, the soldiers fell back slightly from the entrance and formed a fan-shaped formation.
*'Three, two, one.'*
Just as Carlyle finished the silent countdown, the barbarian warriors came pouring into the fortress.
The moment a cold smile touched Carlyle's lips…
*BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM!*
Explosions engulfed the enemies, the barbarian warriors.
Just as Carlyle had planned, the magic stone traps they had just planted detonated, triggered by the barbarians' footsteps.
The scene after the explosions was horrific.
“Aaaaaaaargh!”
“My leg, my leeeeg!”
Barbarian warriors with their legs or lower bodies blown off screamed as they rolled on the ground.
Seeing the severed chunks of human flesh strewn everywhere, he couldn't help but think that this was the true horror of war.
Meanwhile, Helen did not miss the opportunity.
“Now!”
“Yes, ma'am!”
At Helen's shout, the soldiers used long spears and arrows to finish off the barbarians caught in the magic stone traps.
Despite this, the barbarian warriors did not retreat.
“An honorable death!”
“Valhallaaaaa!”
Knowing there were magic stone traps at the entrance, the barbarian warriors did not stop their advance.
They simply kept pushing forward, relentlessly, crying out for their "Valhalla."
Just as the last of the buried magic stone traps had been spent.
*'This is...'*
*Swoosh!*
The bracelet on Carlyle's left wrist.
[Whisper of the Earth] began to glow faintly, making its presence known.