Chapter 156
Chapter 156
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 156
Chapter Title: 49. Finally, I Have Returned (1)
-----------------------------------------------------------------
After ending her year-long seclusion and stepping outside, Arwen Kirguyen heard thunderous news.
"Why didn't you tell me! Why on earth didn't you say anything beforehand!"
For someone whose temperament rarely wavered and who had attained an unshakeable mind after reaching her current realm, this outburst of anger was exceptionally rare.
It was unavoidable.
While she had been holed up in her family's castle, the 1st Prince had marched off to the battlefield. Accompanied only by a single sword maiden and five knights, to the Kingdom of Dotrin where war with the Empire raged fiercely.
"What would you have done if I had told you? You would have thrown away every opportunity you could have seized for yourself and rushed out recklessly."
Her father claimed it had all been for her sake.
"His Highness did not wish it."
He also said it was the prince's will.
She could not argue further.
In truth, she knew what was right.
She simply felt regret.
Someone needed to stay by the 1st Prince's side. Someone had to stop the prince—who knew no such thing as "moderation"—from acting recklessly again. If persuasion failed, then at least share the burden beside him.
So that the prince would not return a battered mess, struggling alone on the battlefield once more.
"I'll tell you everything that happened."
She composed herself and listened intently to her father's tale.
Her expression remained calm throughout.
But her heart was anything but.
When she heard how the 1st Prince, who had left behind a letter akin to a last will and testament, had been found in a state little better than a corpse, her composure shattered.
"The sword maidens who accompanied him as escorts were all slaughtered. Only their leader survived, but even she was gravely wounded."
It was all in the past. She knew that.
Yet he would surely blame himself for their deaths.
Just as he had acted as if every death at Winter Castle was his fault.
Just as he had suffered in silence without shedding a tear for his uncle's death.
Acting as if nothing was wrong, tormenting himself alone, unknown to anyone.
Ignoring the pain of the wounds etched into his own body.
She could vividly imagine the emotions the prince must have felt.
"Fortunately, the aftereffects we feared did not manifest. No sooner had His Highness recovered than he set off straight for the Kingdom of Dotrin."
Her father's words continued.
The war between Dotrin and the Empire, the battles in which the young prince had taken part and how they had unfolded and concluded. Being events in a distant land, she had only heard vague outlines.
The 1st Prince's name did not appear in those tales.
Only the name of Ian, leader of the Veil Mercenary Corps. Even that was mentioned only in vague terms like "remarkable exploits" or "great merits."
But Arwen could tell.
She could picture exactly how the young prince had fought as a mere mercenary, as clearly as if she had seen it with her own eyes.
He must have thrown himself into the vanguard, staking his life on every clash.
He would have racked up many achievements. And suffered wounds in equal measure.
For the prince she knew cared nothing for his own well-being.
Her father's story ended. She rose from her seat.
"I'm leaving."
Her father tried to stop her.
"What do you plan to do, heading to Dotrin alone at this point?"
She added one more thing.
"I'm not going to Dotrin."
"I'm going to Winter Castle."
Not long ago, an eclipse-like omen had occurred—far too ominous to call a mere solar eclipse. The darkness had lifted quickly, but the unease lingered in her chest like sediment.
Something was about to happen in the world. Or perhaps it already had.
And if calamity struck this kingdom, it would surely begin at Winter Castle.
So she believed.
Her father did not stop her.
"Lately, the atmosphere beyond the walls in the mountains has been off, so the Lord of Winter Castle issued a mobilization order to the northern lords under his authority as Warden of the Marches, preparing for the worst. You going there will certainly aid them greatly."
With the north—his staunchest supporters—intact, the 1st Prince could handle matters more smoothly, he said, offering to send troops from their house.
But she was not heading to Winter Castle for political reasons.
She did not want to see the prince grieving upon his return.
She led fifty cavalry from her house and galloped north.
And when she finally reached the north, Winter Castle was in the thick of war.
Rooooooo!
The relentless blare of war horns.
"Fire! Fire, I said!"
The rangers' furious shouts.
Winter Castle fought as fiercely as it had during the height of the war against the Warlord.
Boom! Boom!
The only difference was the occasional unfamiliar explosive roars.
She was immediately escorted to the Lord of Winter Castle.
As always, he stood atop the walls.
"I've heard the news. You've become a Silver Lion, have you? Congratulations, though belated."
The Lord of Winter Castle greeted her with eyes blazing despite his exhaustion.
"The situation doesn't look good."
"Aye, it doesn't. There are just too many monsters. They're giving us quite the headache. Ack. Cover your ears."
Mid-sentence, the Lord of Winter Castle suddenly clapped his hands over his ears.
"Cannon fire!"
A ranger's shout followed a beat late.
Boom! Boom!
The thunderous blasts she had heard before the south gate now echoed across the walls.
Arwen froze momentarily, her eardrums nearly rupturing from the deafening roar.
"...!"
The Lord of Winter Castle shouted something at her.
Riiiiing.
But all she heard was a piercing tinnitus.
The lord pointed with his finger toward a spot on the wall.
There, a metallic contraption she had never seen before spewed smoke. Nearby rangers grunted as they shoved blackened iron balls into its muzzle.
The moment she saw its bizarre form, she recalled the weapon of a certain other race that the prince had praised endlessly for its power.
"...The dwarves' iron cannons!"
Yes, that was the name. She circulated her mana once to dispel the shock of the blast.
Then she looked beyond the walls.
She saw monster corpses strewn about, pierced by arrows. Others crushed by cannonballs and torn apart by the ensuing explosions.
And far more still—living monsters.
From right beneath the walls to the distant snowfields, packed so densely there was no room to step.
Even a rough count put them near the thousands—a vast horde.
And of every kind.
Bipeds included orcs, goblins, trolls, kobolds, ogres, trolls—familiar foes. Quadrupeds ranged from owl-bear hybrids to all manner of unknown beasts.
"How long has it been?"
The lord answered her curt question.
"About a month now."
Arwen frowned.
The timing was too coincidental—suspiciously so. A month ago was right after that ominous eclipse.
"Since that day, the monsters have gone berserk."
The Lord of Winter Castle voiced the same thought.
"The big ones don't devour the small, and the small fear not the big. Do you know what that means?"
She replied in a voice stiff with tension.
"Fear has gripped their marrow, or someone is controlling them."
"Or both."
She looked down at the base of the walls.
An ogre and a troll stood shoulder to shoulder, pounding the gate madly.
Boom! Boom!
The gate groaned under the massive blows.
"No need to worry. Even pounding the dwarves' reinforced gate will just tire them out."
The Lord of Winter Castle spoke matter-of-factly.
"Fortunately, we have ample war supplies. We've steadily stockpiled arrows as top priority, and the dwarves periodically resupply us with cannonballs."
It was as he said.
The soldiers of Winter Castle were holding off the monsters remarkably well.
She had thought the loss of veteran soldiers and near-annihilation of knights in the previous war would degrade their forces, but it had been mere worry.
Yet the lord's expression remained grim.
"I have a feeling this is just the beginning."
He could not shake the thought that even this horde was merely a prelude.
Arwen agreed.
"Rest up from your journey first. We'll need your sword soon enough."
At the lord's words, she took respite with her house's cavalry.
But the break was short-lived.
Rooooooo!
An urgent horn blast sent her rushing back to the walls.
"Harpies!"
"Damn it! Griffins too!"
No sooner had she ascended than the rangers' desperate shouts rang out.
"All archers, nock arrows and hold!"
"Do not fire until ordered!"
"What about the ones climbing up?!"
"Ignore them! The knights will handle it!"
Listening to the rangers, Arwen looked to the sky.
Hundreds of black specks. Focusing her eyes revealed their shapes faintly.
Women with bird legs and wings swarmed in a dark mass. Dozens of monsters with lion bodies, eagle heads, and wings followed.
"Can we hold them?"
"We have to."
She asked the Lord of Winter Castle, who replied with a hardened face. He himself gripped a northern greatbow instead of his sword.
"Incoming!"
"Fire!"
"Loose!"
As the winged monsters neared Winter Castle's skies, the ranger commanders bellowed in unison.
A thousand arrows took flight simultaneously.
Kreeeeek!
Harpies struck by arrows screamed as they plummeted.
But few fell. Most dodged with acrobatic maneuvers. Those with no escape hid behind massive griffins.
The griffins bore not a single arrow.
"Keep firing, no respite!"
Rangers reloaded swiftly and loosed again.
But it was still ineffective.
This was the moment their inexperience shone through—something not evident until now.
Pre-war rangers would never miss targets several times the size of birds.
Swooooosh!
A ear-splitting whistle rent the air as a black streak shot skyward.
Kraaaack!
A griffin struck screamed and fell.
"It's the bow expert!"
The rangers cheered. At the end of their gazes stood a woman clutching an especially massive longbow.
Arwen remembered her.
A man and woman who had visited Winter Castle during the frantic recruitment of new recruits. The prince had taken them in, sending the man to the Black Spear Cavalry and the woman to train with the rangers in the mountains.
The man's name was Gallahan, and the woman...
"Lady Boris! Prioritize the griffins!"
...was Boris.
"That last one was luck! Even if luck holds, five at most! You'll handle the other thirty yourselves!"
The woman called Boris snapped back sharply, then felled another griffin.
Meanwhile, rangers diligently shot down harpies.
But it remained insufficient.
Harpies still numbered in the hundreds.
"Damn it! Brace for boulders!"
Finally breaking through the volley, harpies overhead dropped the stones clutched in their talons.
Arwen drew her sword and positioned herself at the wall's center.
Even a Quad Chain knight wielding an Aura Blade could not block every falling boulder.
Perhaps a dozen meters around her at best.
Still, she resolved to do her utmost.
Aura Blade gathered at her sword tip. As she prepared to launch the radiant energy skyward, a strange ripple spread across the walls.
Thud thud!
The harpies' boulders bounced off a translucent barrier that appeared over the walls.
"It's the wizards of the White Night!"
A delayed shout drew her eyes to a corner of the wall.
Dozens of robed figures stood there.
Undoubtedly the mages from the newly formed magic tower.
Arwen frowned. She knew they lacked sufficient training for combat deployment.
Indeed, they collapsed to the ground exhausted after a single spell.
But it was enough.
Each harpy carried at most one or two stones in their talons.
The follow-up barrage would be weaker.
Right then, the Lord of Winter Castle roared.
"Knights, draw swords!"
In that instant, countless blades sang from their sheaths atop the walls.
"Ah..."
Arwen let out an exclamation.
The walls brimmed with flashes of light.
All were the glow of Sword Auras.
Nearly seven knight orders' worth of knights were arrayed there.
Their radiant sword lights blocked every descending boulder.
Arwen watched in a daze.
The seeds the young prince had sown before departing had sprouted and grown this much already.
Her chest swelled with emotion.