Chapter 180
Chapter 180
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 180
Chapter Title: King of the Snowy Mountains
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“Kiek? It really exists?”
“Yeah. But doesn’t that thing look more like a monkey than an ogre?”
“It’s different from an ogre. Very different. It’s also called a snow ogre, but its real name is Yeti. Also known as the Snowman, it’s an upper-tier ice-attribute monster. It’s incredibly rare.”
Huddled together in a narrow hideout camouflaged with snow and branches at the foot of a mountain overlooking the forest, the spirit, vampire, and mage muttered lowly.
“Really? Stronger than an ogre?”
Seeing a monster for the first time in his life, Galpredic’s fighting spirit surged. Taking down a beast like that would be a tremendous feat for a knight.
“About the same, but in a place this cold, the Yeti’s way stronger. Its life force comes from the chill, after all. That’s why it’s known to be hard to approach. Get hit by its breath, and frost forms even on metal, while living things slow to a crawl.”
“Oh ho. That’s impressive.”
Even as he called it impressive, the fire of battle flickered in Galpredic’s eyes as he glared at the Yeti.
At that moment, the Yeti slammed the griffin it had been holding against a massive rock wall, then pounded its chest with its long arms and let out a monstrous roar.
Krwooooh! Krwoooaaargh—!!!
“Keeek!”
“Eek!”
Mirian and Romari hunched their shoulders tight.
The roar of the upper-tier monster reigning as king of the snow mountains carried a peerless intimidation that shook the spirit and mage to their cores.
If those two were like that, the orc warriors and mercenaries directly hit by the fear-laden roar didn’t even need mentioning.
Nearly all the troops, save a tiny handful of bold warriors, staggered back, fell on their asses, or dropped to their knees.
Even those barely managing to stay on their feet trembled faintly in terror.
“Snap out of it, both of you.”
Galpredic, the only one barely affected by the Yeti’s intimidation, soothed Mirian and Romari.
Only then did they regain their senses.
“Kiek? It’s coming down!”
Incredibly fast for its massive three-meter-plus frame, the Yeti began bounding down the steep slope.
Even from afar, they could clearly see the snowfields heaving and the boulders in its path shattering to pieces.
It was an overwhelming charge.
“Queek! Everyone, battle formation!”
Tollo’s orc warriors, having barely overcome the Yeti’s fear-inducing roar, hurriedly formed ranks and raised their weapons.
At the same time, the mercenaries arrayed themselves in a semicircle, drawing assorted throwing weapons.
“Evil spirit, go report the situation to the master.”
“Got it!”
Saluting smartly by slapping his forehead, Mirian flapped off with quick wingbeats.
“Lady Romari, come with me to join our little doggies.”
“Huh? Yes. Wait, what are you doing?”
Romari freaked out at the sight of Galpredic awkwardly squatting with his butt stuck out like a duck.
“What else? Gonna ride or not?”
“Me? Why?”
“You planning to climb that on foot, Lady Romari? Think you can?”
“...”
Looking up at the sheer slope, Romari had no choice but to clamber onto Galpredic’s broad back.
“Hug my neck tight.”
“Right.”
Despite her answer, Romari only lightly gripped the edge of his cloak. With zero experience around men, she had no intention of giving her historic first hug to the vampire who teased her daily.
But she immediately regretted her choice.
Pabababang!
Galpredic, unleashing full vampire strength, shot across the snow like the wind.
“Whaah?!”
A bizarre shriek burst from Romari’s lips.
But her scream was drowned out by the Yeti’s roar and the shouts of Tollo’s warriors.
Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom!
The Yeti closed in on the warriors’ formation at terrifying speed.
“Fuck! Throw!”
Kuaaaargh!
Hot-tempered warriors and mercenaries hurled their wooden spears first.
Mostly strong orcs or half-orcs, they sent dozens of spears flying fiercely at the Yeti.
Krwoooooaaar—!!!
In response, the Yeti bellowed a roar powerful enough to kick up a mini-blizzard, swinging its club as long as its own body.
The spears and following arrows were pitifully deflected or scattered.
A lucky few spears that dodged the club and its wind pressure struck the Yeti’s torso, but they couldn’t pierce its tough hide, let alone its thick, shaggy fur.
“...!”
“Hey, you gap-toothed bastards! What’re you standing around for like idiots? It’s just one! The one who lands a fatal blow on that furball gets three gold coins and three horses!”
Warriors and mercenaries who’d normally charge in eagerly now didn’t budge an inch.
Not on purpose—they just couldn’t muster the will. The monster’s aura of dread and pressure was that paralyzing.
Plus, the Yeti had struck first.
It had already been on edge from intruders trespassing its territory lately.
Some even gave the Snow Mountain King instinctive chills, bruising its pride.
Then mid- to low-tier monsters drawn by corpses swarmed like dogs, pushing its patience to the limit, and now these stinking orcs were crawling up the mountain.
Krwoooaaargh—!!!
Even if they were tough customers, its rage exploding was inevitable.
“Kuaak!”
“Kyaak!”
Every swing of its club turned three or four lightly armed mercenaries into pulp that flew off.
Having climbed the mountain, most carried only swords, axes, or javelins.
Thus, Tollo’s forces couldn’t even close with the Yeti swinging its three-meter club.
Yet their sheer numbers encircled it, and a few managed to reach its back.
“Die!”
“Kuaak!”
Crack!
Two orc warriors stabbed their blades into the Yeti’s massive back with all their might.
But their cheap iron swords barely pierced half a handspan through its thick hide.
In the end, it only enraged the pained Yeti further, making it whip its head around with a roar.
Kruuuuaaaar—!!!
Pale breath billowed from its maw, packed with fangs like iron spikes, washing over the orc warriors.
“Kuaaaak!”
Their faces froze solid in an instant; they clutched them silently and toppled.
Whoosh! Crunch!
The Yeti stomped the fallen warriors flat, then charged forward swinging its club wildly.
Boom boom boom boom boom!
Roars and screams filled the air as those struck by the club launched skyward.
“Th-this…!”
Tollo’s chieftain and elders turned pale at the Snow Mountain King’s one-sided slaughter.
And then, something plunged them deeper into despair.
Kreeee! Kyaaak! Kyak!
Monsters appeared en masse from the mountain’s base, shrieking utterly unlike the Yeti.
“What!?”
Goblins, kobolds, gnolls, harpies—a diverse horde charged madly toward the Yeti’s rampage.
“Huff, retreat! Everyone, flee down the mountain!”
One Yeti was bad enough; with this many roamer monsters piling on, the chieftain had no choice but to run.
But the formation had long collapsed under the Yeti, so the troops couldn’t disengage quickly.
This wasn’t their flat plains stronghold where orcs shone—it was a cold, snow-blanketed mountain.
Monsters adapted to it over generations quickly overtook the fleeing troops, turning the scene into pandemonium.
Krwak! Kyaaaak! Kwok! Kug!
A weird laugh mingled with the monsters’ roars, but in this life-or-death chaos, no one noticed.
Naturally, the laughter came from Galpredic.
He and the Beowulf warriors, transformed into lycanthropes, had used Romari’s magic to herd the monsters.
They’d led them straight to Tollo’s forces amid the Yeti’s chaos.
In the end, facing over a hundred monsters including an upper-tier one, Tollo’s troops shattered and fled back the way they came.
“Khek! Krheok!”
The chieftain and elders who fled first panted raggedly but kept running.
Amid shouts and screams, fewer than a hundred troops followed.
Mostly the hired mercenaries—most clan warriors hadn’t escaped the Yeti fight.
Galpredic and the Beowulfs pursued the routed survivors, a dozen monsters in the lead.
‘M-must turn back! Gather more troops! If not, call on the other tusked ones…’
They could’ve handled the monsters if they’d stopped fleeing and fought properly, but the panicked chieftain had no such presence of mind.
He didn’t even recall his eldest son had crossed that cursed mountain.
Kyaak! Kuaak!
Even knowing stragglers were dying with screams, the chieftain ran on, desperate to escape the damned snow mountain.
By the time they nearly reached the bottom, fewer than fifty troops trailed the chieftain and elders.
“Kwaaa… Kwoak!”
Spotting flat ground at last, Tollo’s chieftain exhaled heavily and paused.
The other exhausted orcs collapsed where they stood. Relief at escaping the hellish mountain sapped their strength.
But unfortunately, their nightmare was still ongoing.
Swoosh!
“Kuit…?”
The chieftain’s eyes widened at a pale figure leaping from a boulder above the slope.
Shrrrrrak!
Like a viper shuddering, it rang out—then the pale shape turned glossy black.
“...!!!”
Head to toe, covered in pitch-black scales—an unknown something.
Only a pair of lava-red eyes marked it as human.
“Wh-who are you!?”
“Kuit!?”
The sprawled troops jolted up in alarm.
Eugene, scales retracted from his lower face, bared his long fangs in a grin.
“Bartolla Duke.”
“Krhat!?”
As the Tollo orcs’ eyes bulged, Eugene unleashed his full vampire powers after so long and charged.
* * *
The fight with the Tollo orcs ended anticlimactically.
Eugene hit them from the front, Galpredic and the Beowulfs from behind—fifty exhausted orcs stood no chance.
Normally, they’d have fought fiercely with intimidation blasts, maybe killing one or two Beowulfs.
But drained from blind flight, they couldn’t even resist properly.
“Krha! As expected, the Dark Lord has a plan!”
“Khuhuhu! Of course. Who’s my master? If we’d fought alone, most would’ve escaped alive.”
Galpredic wasn’t wrong.
Originally, Eugene planned to lure Tollo’s main force near the snow mountain peak.
But doubtful they’d endure the brutal cold that far, and his small group couldn’t wipe them out alone.
So he’d switched to using the mountain’s monsters—and the Yeti’s arrival amplified it perfectly.
“Let’s go deal with the snow ogre and monsters. You kept the mage safe, right?”
“Left our evil spirit and one Beowulf buddy. No need for the monsters below to climb back up.”
“Good. Ah!”
Eugene paused mid-climb, Galpredic and two Beowulfs at his side.
“Why?”
“Feels like I forgot something…”
“Huh? Forgot what?”
Frowning in thought, Eugene looked up.
“…The hunter.”
“Ah ha.”
In that slaughterhouse, Eugene hadn’t expected a mere hunter to survive, leaving him a bit wistful.
No real attachment, but the guy had competently followed orders.
But that thought vanished upon reaching the blood-scent-choked forest edge.
“Hmm?”
“Huh? He survived? Both of them?”
With the Yeti and monsters gone, a trembling Beowulf warrior, Romari, hunter, and half-orc Maxen stood there.