Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 103
Chapter Title: 33. Heaven-Defying Army (4)
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Even amid that overwhelming chaos, Vincent did not forget his duties.
"Pour the oil!"
No sooner had the gates opened than the monsters clinging to the walls and causing havoc surged forward. Oil rained down upon the charging horde.
"Light it up!"
Veteran rangers pushed aside the rookies and loosed flaming arrows.
Whoosh!
The flames ignited the oil. In an instant, fire erupted along both sides of the gates.
But it wasn't enough.
A few jars of oil couldn't stop monsters driven completely mad.
"Fire!"
Rangers perilously leaning over the walls unleashed a volley toward the gates' flanks. Hundreds of arrows poured forth at once, turning the monsters into pincushions.
Yet still, the monsters rushed the gates, and the rangers desperately held them back.
"The sortie forces have all cleared the gates!"
"Lower the gates!"
No sooner were the words spoken than the gates boomed as they slammed shut.
Monsters aflame and barreling toward the gates were crushed beneath the massive doors, reduced to bloody pulp.
"All knights remaining in the castle—slaughter the monsters that made it through the gates!"
Vincent kept barking orders, his gaze fixed forward.
In the distance, he spotted the cavalry that had passed through the gates sharply wheeling westward along the snowy plains toward the western walls.
"Hm?"
Gazing at their vanguard, Vincent's eyes widened.
The 1st Prince, who had been charging at the forefront with a sword aglow in blue light, was nowhere to be seen.
All that remained was a riderless white steed galloping alone, pursued by black spearmen.
Vincent frantically searched for the prince. But he was nowhere in the ranks.
"Your Highness, the 1st Prince!"
Whoosh!
As he cried out desperately, a flash erupted from below the walls, catching his eye.
Mesmerized, he peered down.
"Ah..."
There stood the 1st Prince, gripping a brilliantly blue sword with both hands, his back to the flames, accompanied only by his female knight and elven swordsmen cloaked in green mantles.
"Your Highness! Why?!"
The prince made no reply. He merely raised his sword and took a step forward.
Just one step.
But that single step was no small thing.
Thud thud thud.
Dozens of monsters snarling against the walls had their heads severed.
Even as their necks parted, they remained oblivious, their bodies scraping the walls before toppling over. A golden flash followed, shredding the fallen beasts.
That was the beginning.
The 1st Prince dashed along the base of the walls. Golden light and green shadows trailed him.
A gale of blood swept the wall's base.
In the wake of one man and twenty women lay only mangled monster corpses.
"Uwaaaah!"
The soldiers pressed against the walls erupted in cheers.
Shoulders once slumped in dread of the ominous presence at the mountain pass straightened. Faces pale with fear of the monsters below flushed red.
Terror was gone. The soldiers were enraptured by the might of a swordmaster unlike any they'd witnessed, roaring in awe.
But Vincent couldn't simply cheer like the rest.
At first, he too had joined the soldiers in acclaiming the prince's feats.
But upon recalling a forgotten truth, he clenched his jaw to stifle a groan.
He remembered it clearly.
His father, upon reaching that realm, had secluded himself for a time to assimilate his newfound power. He dared not flaunt it carelessly, lest the unrefined energy dissipate.
It was a full year before his father ventured into battle.
Yet the 1st Prince wielded his aurablade recklessly, without time to properly assimilate.
Unaware that the power he should have fully internalized was scattering into the air.
He had to stop him now. Vincent bolted toward the prince's position—then halted abruptly.
Would the prince truly be ignorant of this?
A recent conversation flashed in his mind.
When Vincent had questioned the need to open the gates, the prince replied they must reverse the tide before nightfall, no matter what. Describing battles with the undead, he seemed pressed for time.
Vincent bit his lip, watching the distant prince.
The kingdom's youngest swordmaster was burning himself away, forsaking his infinite potential.
Solely to become the light for soldiers in the encroaching darkness.
It was heartbreaking.
While the prince sacrificed his future, Vincent—the castellan—merely shouted from the safety of the walls.
He yearned to fling open the gates and join them. But he couldn't abandon the walls.
For he was not a knight, but the castellan.
Now he understood why his father had chosen to remain in enemy lines as a knight till the end.
He ground his teeth.
Shaking off self-reproach, he steeled himself as Winter Castle's castellan, not knight Vincent Ballerhard.
The castellan's duty now was to survey the battlefield and lead the soldiers,
"All rangers! From this moment, devote full power to annihilating the monsters below the walls!"
and to support the prodigious young swordmaster so he might swing his sword one fewer time—to urge the rangers to loose even one more arrow.
"Don't hold back—unleash everything!"
Just then, the black spearmen and knights, completing their circuit at the wall's end, began sweeping monsters from the opposite side.
Rangers atop the walls fired in unison.
Vincent stood firm, glaring across the battlefield with bulging eyes.
He watched every swing of the prince's sword, bearing the castell's burden in his stead. He etched the weight within into his eyes, over and over.
*
"Hooah!"
I exhaled deeply.
At last, the bloating sensation ebbed.
But the stuffiness hadn't fully dissipated.
A considerable amount of unassimilated elixir energy lingered in my body. Left unchecked, it could solidify within, blocking mana flow—or worse, clash with my heart's mana, turning me into a cripple.
This oppressive bloating would vanish only after burning it all away. I channeled the elixir's energy into my blade and continued incinerating it.
Along the way, slaying monsters, expelling toxins, and bolstering soldier morale.
Three birds with one stone.
How long had I been venting the energy?
By the time the remaining elixir power posed no threat, Adelia, the sword maidens, and I had reached the midpoint of the eastern walls.
"Your Highness!"
Hoofbeats sounded behind me, followed by the one-eyed cavalry commander's call.
"Fall back!"
His shout was more proclamation than warning. I yanked Adelia's waist, pulling her from the wall.
Black spearmen and knights thundered past in an instant.
Crushing monsters scraping at the walls.
"Your Highness! Are you alright?!"
Kals and royal knights, mixed among the cavalry, galloped to me.
"No injuries?!"
Dismissing Kals's fuss with a wave, I glanced up at the walls.
Rangers drew and loosed repeatedly, glaring below. The passively obedient faces choked with fear were gone.
Bared teeth, eyes blazing with fighting spirit—the soldiers were fully immersed in battle.
"Phew."
The lingering stuffiness finally lifted.
I sighed in relief.
Adelia's struggles in my arms subsided. The battlefield's murderous aura that had driven her wild faded.
Then, abruptly, her flailing stopped.
"Your Highness."
The bloodied one-eyed cavalry commander approached.
I nodded and raised my sword high.
"We have victory!"
And shouted,
"We've crushed the monsters!"
The knights roared.
Rangers lining the walls echoed with victorious cheers.
But there was no time to savor it.
The sun was setting.
"All forces, return to the castle!"
The gates opened.
Knights led the wounded through. I, lingering last to cover their retreat, soon followed.
"Ignite!"
"Light 'em!"
Hundreds of bonfires blazed to life.
Yet hundreds of flames couldn't banish the dark entirely. Night inexorably fell.
And in that moment, the wraiths crouched in the mountain shadows were unleashed.
Swish swish swish.
The snowplains gleaming pale under moonlight swiftly blackened.
Soldiers' faces, flushed with triumph, darkened once more.
I stood at the wall's center and thrust my sword skyward.
Fwosh!
The twilight blazed white.
An aurablade of pure mana—not elixir energy—its searing light illuminated the walls.
Insufficient to dispel the deep night, but enough to spark hope through the long hours.
I gathered more light into the twilight.
Soldiers turned toward the glow. Thousands of eyes fixed on me.
"This night!"
I bellowed to them with fervor.
"Not one among the dead shall cross these walls!"
Encouragement for the soldiers, warning to the wraiths gnashing beyond the light's reach.
"Drop the oil cauldrons below the walls!"
Rangers hastily shoved jars over.
Fwoosh!
Embers below, unquenched, ignited the oil. Fed by monster fat, the flames roared fiercer.
A curtain of fire rose along the walls.
I glared beyond the surging blaze.
Encroaching darkness recoiled from the flickering flames.
But this alone wouldn't suffice for the long night.
"Withdraw the soldiers."
As prearranged, Vincent ordered the retreat without demur. Non-knight soldiers were pulled below the walls entirely; their blades and arms confiscated, sealed in storage.
"Bar the gates and detach the pulley chains."
Not stopping there, I had the gate pulleys' chains removed and stored elsewhere. Still unsatisfied, I replaced the gate guards with handpicked knights.
"No matter what you see or hear—do not be swayed."
"We'll plug our ears and avert our eyes."
The knights' resolute reply—in normal times, I'd trust it implicitly.
But not tonight.
"Watch each other. Report any strange behavior at once."
"We'll say it ten times over."
Even Vincent's jest drew no smile from me.
It could never be enough.
"Steel your minds, all of you."
Tonight would truly be endless.
*
Fueled by monster fat, the flames gradually dwindled, barely illuminating the wall's base.
As light weakened, darkness advanced boldly. Its hissing breath grazed my ears.
And true night began.
"Ugh..."
Moans arose from spots along the walls.
Some rangers gazing at the plains turned bloodshot-eyed. Tears streamed from others.
"Your Highness, what in the world..."
Vincent approached as I watched them.
His face was ashen. Even in those brief moments looking at me, he startled repeatedly as if hearing voices. Gone was his rock-solid demeanor.
"Do not waver."
"N-no, Your Highness, it's not—"
Vincent seized my shoulder roughly, pointing below with his other hand.
"Father! Father's down there!"
His finger pointed into pitch black.
"Father's alive!"
I slapped his cheek.
"Uncle is dead. Get a grip."
I growled through gritted teeth.
"If you, the castellan, falter, this castle falls tonight."
His flickering eyes steadied.
"F-forgive me, Your Highness."
"Rouse your energy to shield your mind. Don't let wraiths possess you."
I didn't blame Vincent.
He wasn't alone.
"Lidobal, you're alive... Wait. I'll save you."
"Snap out of it! Grab this bastard!"
Fellow rangers wrestled one lunging for the wall's edge.
Such scenes unfolded across the walls—no, the entire castle.
Rookies below convulsed in fits, hallucinating en masse. Sane soldiers and knights subdued them. Some dashed madly for the gates, eyes rolled back—knights at the gates beat them down.
I glared into the darkness below.
Wraiths couldn't invade without the living's invitation, so they waited for us to open the door.
『Idrian, my nephew. Open the door at once.』
『The wounds are deep. If not treated soon...』
『Why won't you open the door when I'm returned?』
Whispering endlessly in voices of those the living desperately longed to meet again.
I steadied my breath.
『High places, lofty thrones—none are not mine.』
『None I cannot claim to sit upon.』
I quietly recited the Tyrant's Verse.
Woooooom.
My perfected presence spread across the castle.
Sobs, groans, urgent shouts faded. At last, utter silence fell.
Hiss hiss.
Darkness flicked its tongue, glaring at me.
"Even if the king of the dead descends tonight, what is taken shall not be yielded."
My aurablade my fangs, the verse my roar—I snarled back at the dark.
Through the long night, rooted in place, I relentlessly reminded the darkness of my presence here.
How much time passed?
A cock crowed distantly at dawn.
Slither.
Darkness flicked its tongue once more, then slowly retreated.
The east brightened. Twilight banished night; morning broke.
"Ah..."
Exhausted knights and soldiers slumped, moaning.
"Th-they're retreating?"
Someone sighed in relief. I shook my head instinctively.
I knew.
The true nightmare was just beginning.