Chapter 75
Chapter 75
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 75
Chapter Title: Change of Hands (3)
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“Damn it all!”
The enraged Serubret ground his teeth and rescinded his order.
“They’re few in number! They can’t defend the entire fortress with so few! Surround them! Don’t retreat—encircle them!”
But both he who gave the command and the rangers who obeyed it knew the truth.
The Furosange stronghold, ‘Tochika Fortress,’ was an invincible bastion.
An impregnable iron fortress that had never once allowed an enemy invasion.
To the north lay a deep moat, far deeper than the walls of most castles, with icy seawater flowing beneath.
To the south rose jagged eternal snow peaks sharp as blades, impassable to any man.
The narrow western path was barely wide enough for two wagons side by side—which was why Tochika Fortress was hailed as the world’s greatest natural stronghold.
“How… how could Tochika fall to those bastards? Why?”
Serubret muttered through bloodshot eyes, over and over.
At that moment, Federback’s voice rang out from atop the walls.
“Surrender.”
The mana-infused voice was soft, yet it echoed clearly in every ear.
It wasn’t the sort of thing one trapped in a fortress should say—but if that fortress was Tochika, it became possible.
Serubret shouted in disbelief.
“You barge into our castle out of nowhere and pull this nonsense?!”
“You struck first at the Meursault convoy.”
“Lies! Got any proof!?”
“Plenty. I’ll lop off your head and lay it all out beneath it.”
“You son of a—!”
Serubret raised his bow.
Boom!
His arrow streaked toward the battlements.
But Tochika’s walls were impossibly high, the winds fierce—the arrow lost power swiftly.
Clang!
It drifted lazily before ricocheting off the dragon-scale shield strapped to Federback’s left arm.
Federback shrugged.
“That’s not how you shoot a bow.”
Soon after, Federback himself hefted a heavy bow.
Twangggg…
The string, drawn to its limit, snapped forward at tremendous speed.
Bang!
An explosive roar unbelievable for an arrow’s launch.
As Serubret startled backward, two rangers beside him bent like bows at the waist.
The arrow pierced the front ranger’s chest, then the one behind through the gut, before embedding in the earth.
Arrows began raining down in response.
At that instant.
Hiss…
Purple mist rose from the snowfield, shrouding the rangers.
Federback turned toward the source, where purple mana flowed.
There stood a mage with light purple hair whipping in the wind.
She flashed Federback a bright smile.
“Stealing so boldly does have a certain charm.”
“Who are you?”
“I’m Shedioldis.”
Federback furrowed his brow.
Shedioldis continued with a wry smile.
“They say Meursault is the bloodline of the Demon King Slayer—and it seems true. Such spirit at your age…”
But she couldn’t finish.
Whoosh—boom!
Federback’s arrow hurtled toward her forehead.
“Gasp!?”
Shedioldis hastily thickened the mist into a barrier, but the arrow punched through.
Crack!
It pierced her left shoulder.
“Kyaaak!?”
She recoiled at the icy bite of the arrowhead burrowing into flesh.
Crackle-crackle-crack!
The flesh around the wound blackened and froze.
Extreme cold seeped in, spreading acute frostbite.
“R-R-Retreat! Retreat now!”
Shedioldis cried desperately.
Serubret reacted at once.
“Everyone, fall back! Regroup at the eastern outpost!”
The Furosange elites, led by their patriarch, were forced to flee in humiliation.
Leaving family, kin, friends, and everything else behind in the heart of their home.
Whiiiiiir…
Blasting winds fiercer than on any mountain range howled over Tochika Fortress’s lofty walls.
Federback leaned against a merlon, his hair tousled by the swirling snow.
‘Shedioldis.’
A name unheard of before his regression.
Yet the aura she exuded was all too familiar.
‘She reeked terribly.’
He’d smelled it so often, he recognized it from a mere brush.
The stench of rotting corpses.
Intensely concentrated.
‘Even the corpse puppets controlled by Zuba Popi stank, but not like that. Worse than the undead in the Meursault dungeon.’
No living human could smell of rotting flesh.
Federback reached his conclusion.
“I’ll hunt her down and kill her.”
Decision made, he moved at once.
He called for Haundid.
Haundid, who’d been organizing the fortress’s new recruits, hurried over.
“You called, Young Master?”
“We’ll pursue the Furosange patriarch who fled east. Select ten elite soldiers.”
“…Ten men to chase the Furosange rangers?”
“Guerrilla tactics. Pick only those who can run ten days through this frozen waste without food or rest.”
“Understood. But Viscount Serubret commands quite a force. There’s an isolated outpost to the east—if their troops join, that’s at least five hundred men, by numbers alone.”
“That’s plenty for me alone.”
“!”
Haundid’s jaw dropped at Federback’s words.
The young Meursault heir, facing five hundred alone.
But this fifteen-year-old boy’s confidence was no bluff.
He’d once slain over three hundred fifty orcs in a single night, after all.
Federback continued in his usual impassive tone.
“Humans are easier prey than orcs. Especially in a place this white and cold.”
“If you say it, Young Master, I’d believe you could grow barley in the snow.”
“First, though, I need your help with something.”
“Anything.”
Haundid thumped his chest.
Federback nodded and issued orders.
“Once I leave Tochika, Viscount Serubret will try to retake it.”
“Can we hold without you?”
“Doubtful. They know the layout inside out. Once regrouped, they’ll push hard.”
“We’ll defend to the death.”
“No need. If they want it, you can just hand it over.”
“…?”
Haundid tilted his head, uncomprehending.
Federback clarified.
“If they want it.”
“Of course they will—it’s their castle.”
“I plan to wreck it a bit first. Make sure they don’t.”
“Ah!”
The quick-witted Haundid caught on.
Tochika’s strength lay not just in its high, sturdy walls.
Massive granaries brimmed with provisions.
Lock the gates, and those stockpiles alone could sustain them for three years—that was the fortress’s backbone.
Federback said,
“Distribute the granary rations to the residents. @(Only what they can carry.)
“Then relocate them to Meursault lands.”
“Have the knights and soldiers escort them—keep the monsters off.”
“Won’t the Furosange attack them?”
“They’ll ignore fleeing peasants. Their families are hostages here, so some might pursue late—but.”
“We’ll move fast before then. Getting the locals to go quietly might be tricky.”
“After handing out food, burn the fortress to the ground. No shelter left—they’ll have to leave.”
“Won’t that sour the people’s hearts?”
“You can’t fight a war fretting over that. Lose the next battle… and there’ll be no ‘people’s hearts’ left.”
“…?”
Haundid didn’t fully grasp it.
But what could he do?
A child born to wealth and peace, delighting in books, music, and riding.
A child born to poverty and war, where theft, beatings, and scavenging corpses were daily routine.
Could they ever understand each other? Impossible.
Thus, one who’d lived an age of ruin and one who hadn’t could never bridge that gap.
Federback had watched humanity dwindle to scraps before the Demon King’s onslaught.
So he knew.
How meaningless ‘public sentiment’ truly was.
In the end, borders, races, genders, generations—all vanished. Humanity huddled as one under a single banner.
Federback ordered,
“Fully ration food and water to the locals, then torch every granary and well.”
“There are vaults stuffed with gold and jewels—what about those?”
“Heavy, useless junk. Burn it all. Keep only what won’t slow mobility.”
“Yes, sir.”
Haundid bowed.
Soon, Tochika would be an empty shell.
Sturdy walls, hollow inside—no reason for the Furosange to strain for it.
If Serubret still lusted after it, cut supplies and besiege until starvation.
‘By now, Father’s main force should be crossing the frozen river.’
Soleil saw Federback as a scout—true war beginning with the main army’s advance.
Federback thought differently.
‘Take ten elites and end it.’
Not the original thirty-three, but ten handpicked from them.
With those ten, he’d exterminate House Furosange.