I Became the Northern Grand Duchess (3)
It happened then.
Woooong— woooong—
A dull, low horn blast shook the territory.
The steam rising from the stew scattered in the vibration that tore through the air.
Evelyn furrowed her brow and let out a deep sigh.
"…Haa… I guess I have to go."
'Speaking of the devil.'
She'd just blabbered about them possibly invading tomorrow, and sure enough, here they came like clockwork.
"Eat slowly and chew thoroughly."
In this situation? She thought it was ridiculous even as the words left her mouth.
She shoved her chair back roughly and stood. Arvin reflexively rose as well.
"…My lady."
He stared at her in an awkward half-standing pose, lips twitching like he had something to say. But she raised her palm to stop him.
He had to know what that horn meant.
But this wasn't his moment yet. He'd only just started his first real meal after dragging his exhausted body here.
"It's fine. Sit down. That's an order."
"…But."
"It happens all the time. Focus on recovering."
She slung a thick fur coat from the rack over her shoulders and spoke indifferently.
"It'll be tough, but eat slowly. You'll get indigestion."
"But…!"
"Arvin. You won't be at your best in that condition anyway."
He'd been treated worse than a beast during that long escort—barely any food or sleep, leaving his body a wreck.
Even if he did step up for the territory, who knew if he'd swing his sword willingly.
'Though knightly instincts seem to be kicking in. He looks concerned.'
"Really, it's okay. Rest."
Leaving him still hesitating, she kicked open the inspection room door and stormed out.
Her strides quickened down the corridor, her mind spinning like gears.
Two blasts meant north.
'Damn it, why the north of all places?'
The north gate's wall had cracks from the recent raid. She'd urgently ordered stone for repairs, but vicious blizzards had stranded the caravan.
"Damn, damn, fucking hell!"
Cursing under her breath, her feet moved even faster.
* * *
The moment she climbed the watchtower, a razor-sharp wind slapped her cheeks.
"My lady! You're here!"
Ally came rushing over in a panic.
"Situation?"
"Three snowfield trolls and an orc horde. At least two hundred by eye alone!"
"…Hah. A lot came this time."
Evelyn leaned on the battlements and peered below.
Shadows writhing like ants in torchlight swarmed the snowfield under the walls.
"Chwiik! Humans! Meat!"
"Chwiik! Kill!"
The orcs' hideous roars filled the air.
Amid the teeming orcs, a house-sized shadow lumbered forward, shaking the ground.
'Snowfield trolls too.'
"Prep the oil!!"
Ally bellowed in her booming voice.
"Pour it on 'em!"
Shwaaaaa—
Boiling oil cauldrons tipped over in unison from the walls.
Dark, viscous oil cascaded like a waterfall onto the orcs scaling the sheer walls.
"Gaaahhh!"
"Chwiik!"
The stench of burnt flesh and foul orc reek vibrated through the air, mingled with agonized screams.
But it didn't last.
The trailing orcs trampled their comrades' corpses, slamming axes into the slick walls to climb.
Tough bastards.
Why did monsters raid so relentlessly?
'What else? Human flesh.'
Northern monsters were always starving mad, fearless of death. The soldiers knew defeat meant becoming fodder, their eyes burning with desperation.
"Fire! Don't let a single one up!"
Papapapang!
Crossbowmen triggered in volley.
A hail of bolts pierced orc hides and skulls.
Thud! Thud!
Then the gate shook violently.
Dust rained from the walls like an earthquake.
"Troll's smashing the gate!!"
At the soldier's frantic shout, she leaned over the railing.
A troll wielding a massive club hammered the gate insanely.
The old wooden gate screamed, splintering with cracks.
"Concentrated fire!! Aim for the troll's eyes!!"
At Evelyn's roar, soldiers trained crossbows on the troll.
But it shielded its face with thick arms, blocking the arrows.
The troll rampaged even fiercer.
Kwaaaang—!!
A massive explosion—the gate's bar shattered.
"It, it's breached…!"
Before the despairing cry finished, the heavy gate groaned inward amid choking dust.
Beyond the cloud, countless starving orc eyes gleamed, foam flecking their maws.
"Hold the line! If they break through, the territory's done!!"
Ally drew her sword and leaped down the tower.
Waiting soldiers formed a shield wall, clashing with the orc wave.
Clang! Thwack!
Metal on metal, flesh tearing—chilling cacophony dominated the battlefield.
Evelyn bit her lip hard.
Varmark's soldiers were strong—veterans forged in this hellish daily grind.
But the pressure of starving monsters pouring through the breach was beyond imagination.
"Gaaahk!"
A shield-bearing soldier's arm flew off under a crude orc axe.
Orcs exploited the gap, infiltrating the line.
Gushing blood soaked the snow, footprints stamping it red.
Soldiers reformed ranks, fighting desperately.
'Damn it…!'
Her gut burned. Each fallen soldier felt like madness-inducing agony.
Here, every one was the territory's lifeblood and defense.
All she could do was trust Ally's command and pray they survived.
"My lady."
A familiar voice from behind.
Turning, she saw Arvin with a guard.
"It's busy now, later…."
Ignoring her, Arvin approached the battlements.
His gaze dropped below.
"……."
His amethyst eyes reflected the brutal scene.
A soldier, arm torn off, clutching an orc's leg for comrades.
Another, spear snapped, smashing an orc's face with a rock.
Corpses trampled underfoot.
A battlefield worlds apart from his imperial knight days—predator vs. prey.
"…Always."
He murmured blankly.
"…You've always survived like this."
His voice trembled faintly.
Evelyn gripped the bloodied railing, replying flatly.
"Yes. This is our daily life."
"……."
"While you lounged by warm fireplaces, we bathed in blood every night to protect our families."
She pointed below.
"They fight desperately because they know a breach means their families become food. Understand now?"
Arvin didn't answer.
He just bit his lips until they bled.
He closed his eyes slowly.
'I knew the north was the front line against monsters.'
When Arvin opened his eyes, the wavering amethyst gaze hardened into chilling steel.
He extended a hand to Evelyn.
"Sword."
"…Pardon?"
"Give me a sword."
The guard beside him waved frantically in horror.
"N-no! Absolutely not!"
"Not for you."
Ignoring the guard, Arvin stared piercingly at her.
"For the nameless soldiers dying… for them."
"…."
"So give me the sword."
Evelyn stared back.
Of course.
A southern knight facing northern reality—overwhelmed by unbearable emotions.
Shame and pity at the harshness and brutality.
His eyes said as much.
She smirked, unbuckling the sheathed sword at her waist.
"My lady! He's a Class 1 prisoner! If you arm him and he turns on you…!"
"Calm down. Forgot?"
She brushed off the guard irritably.
"Prisoners sent here have engravings in their hearts. They die if they draw steel on the Varmark lord or flee the territory."
"B-but… he's a Swordmaster!"
"And."
Evelyn placed the sheath in Arvin's hand.
"If this choice saves even one of them, I'll gamble on it a hundred times."
"……."
Arvin's fingers clenched the hilt.
Familiar weight.
The cold steel he'd gripped lifelong.
His shoulders shuddered.
Evelyn looked at him.
"I know it's a lot to ask… but please, Arvin."
He just nodded once and passed her.
Kiiiiiing—
A chilling scrape as the blade dragged the floor. He lightly vaulted the battlements.
Whirling snow whipped his hair.
He looked down.
Trolls roaring through the shield wall, orcs swarming.
Shoooo—
A bluish haze rose from the plain steel sword in his hand.
'Aura, just like the stories.'
"Going."
With that short word, he leaped into the void without hesitation.
Shwaaaaaak—!
His falling body became a silver streak.
One target in gravity-defying descent: the snowfield troll slaughtering soldiers through the gate.
The troll instinctively sensed danger and looked up.
Slice.
A clean, spine-chilling cut.
Steel sword severed the troll's thick neck like tofu.
Time seemed to freeze in that instant.
Thud!
The massive head hit the ground.
Crimson blood fountained from the neck.
Shwaaack!
Arvin landed on the troll's shoulder, drenched in the spray.
"Chwi, chwiik…?"
Nearby orcs froze in stunned confusion.
Too sudden to process.
Arvin rose slowly.
His ash-gray hair matted red, blood trickling down his pale face.
He flicked his wrist, splattering sword blood, then swept his fierce amethyst gaze over the orcs.
"…Chwiik!"
"St-strong human! Chwiik!"
Orcs recoiled in primal terror.
A feral smile curled his lips.
"All of you."
He growled low.
"Die."
Pop—!
Arvin kicked off.
Faster than the blizzard, a savage human plunged into the fray.
Splat! Crunch!
"Kuek!"
Orc screams echoed anew.
It was one-sided slaughter. One-sided hunt.
From the tower, Evelyn watched, finally exhaling in relief.