Chapter 157
Chapter 157
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 157
Chapter Title: Finally, I Have Returned (2)
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Sword flashes danced wildly as stone fragments scattered in every direction.
"You idiots! What are you standing around staring for? Fire! Shoot already!"
Yorden bellowed at the top of his lungs. Grit crunched between his teeth.
He spat it out with a ptui, then dashed around kicking the rangers' asses.
"Don't just stand there twiddling your thumbs!"
The startled rangers finally grabbed their bows and aimed at the sky.
"Damn it! What's the point of a promotion? It's the same damn job!"
He'd risen from squad leader to ranger company commander, but nothing had really changed.
The only difference was that the number of asses he had to kick had grown from ten to two hundred.
"Is this why they promoted me?!"
Grumbling complaints that didn't fit the situation, he kept urging the rangers on.
The knights were blocking the boulders, but they weren't dealing with the harpies.
So in the end, it was up to the rangers to handle the harpies.
But these rangers were moving like molasses.
"Goddamn rookies! Two winters have passed already, and you haven't improved a bit!"
They had enough experience now that calling them newbies felt off, but in his eyes, the rangers were still fledglings.
Veteran rangers from before would have swept those harpies away before they even got close.
But what could he do?
The survivors were few and far between, and they'd all become commanders.
The thick curses echoing from every corner of the wall came from them.
"Now you get how I feel!"
Thinking of his old squadmates struggling with their own green(?) recruits made him feel a bit better.
But that relief was short-lived. He bulged his eyes.
"Th-that-that!"
Yorden spotted a harpy that had finished hurling stones snatch an orc instead and take flight.
"Crazy bastards!"
He instantly grasped their intent.
They'd decided to use the monsters swarming everywhere instead of hard-to-find boulders in the snow-covered plains.
It was a shift in thinking, a brilliant improvisation.
If that massive hunk of meat wasn't aimed at them, he'd have applauded.
Kwaaaah!
An orc plummeted from the sky.
"Whoa! That scared me!"
He didn't even have time to draw his sword.
Splat.
The orc couldn't withstand the impact and burst into a bloody pulp.
Similar scenes were unfolding everywhere.
Countless monsters dropped by harpies rained down on the wall.
Most were shredded by knights' swords before even touching the wall. The lucky ones that landed where no knights were turned into bloody messes for flying without wings.
The harpies couldn't care less about the monsters' survival.
They kept snatching and dropping them onto the wall relentlessly.
Some survived, though.
The large monsters dropped by griffins.
"Scatter!"
Yorden shouted urgently.
Most dodged nimbly. Except one ranger aiming an arrow that wouldn't pierce the tough hide anyway.
That fool was surely about to be crushed under the monster's bulk, beyond recognition.
"This is why I hate rookies!"
Yorden cursed as he hurled himself toward the rookie.
Boom!
Yorden barely escaped the landing zone, then gripped his sword and stood without a moment to relax.
Grraaah.
The massive lump that had crashed onto the wall shook its head.
"Of all things, an ogre."
On this vast wall, the beast landing right in front of him had to be the ferocious monster called the king of the mountains.
His luck was rotten to the core.
Yorden glanced around briefly.
"Uh, ugh..."
One ranger groaned and collapsed before the ogre's might right in front of him. Another stared blankly, soul seemingly fled.
The knights far off were busy with a pile of trolls and had no attention to spare here.
He looked back at the ogre.
One shoulder collapsed from the fall's impact, it was still shaking its head, not fully recovered.
But it wouldn't take long to snap out of it.
"Ha. This is why I hate rookies."
Sighing, Yorden readjusted his grip on his sword.
His face was resolute. No fear showed.
It wasn't anything special. Just his turn now.
Steeling himself like that, he charged the ogre.
He tossed aside his useless sword that wouldn't pierce and slammed into the ogre with his whole body.
If he could just roll it off the wall, that'd be enough.
The spearmen waiting at the gate would handle the rest.
He sprinted with all his might and rammed the ogre.
Thud.
The ogre staggered.
Ever so slightly.
"Yeah, didn't think it'd be that easy."
Yorden looked up at the ogre with an awkward grin. A fierce glint rose in the ogre's eyes.
Even dazed, instinct sensed the killing intent.
The ogre reached out. Its brutish hand, big enough to crush a man's skull in one grip, filled his vision.
Yorden's eyes widened.
That instant, something flew in.
Bang!
The ogre reeled, stumbling back toward the wall's edge.
"Can't hog all the glory!"
Yorden's eyes rounded. Rangers clutching shields and shoving the ogre were visible. His annoying old squadmates.
"What the hell?!"
"If you can talk, help out! This thing's strong!"
"Think we'd waste an ogre otherwise?!"
Snapping out of it amid the crazy banter, Yorden yelled.
"Why are you here? What about your squads?!"
"They're handling themselves! Unlike some, I'm a pretty competent commander!"
"Shut up and push together!"
At the squad leaders' words, Yorden hurriedly joined in.
Thud.
The ogre, backed to the wall's edge, staggered. One more push, and it'd tumble off.
It should have. It really should have.
Grraaah!
But right then, the ogre came to its senses.
Crunch.
The ogre grabbed a shield. The iron crumpled like paper, and the ranger holding it flew into the air.
"Knew it wouldn't work. Pushing an ogre with raw strength? Makes no sense."
The ranger, whose arm was trapped in the mangled handle, said despondently.
"I'm heading out first. No need to rush after me, take it slo..."
Hurl.
Before he finished, the ogre flung him shield and all.
"You bald-headed bastard!"
Yorden's eyes flipped in rage as he lunged at the ogre. Scaling its body in a flash, he stabbed his dagger into the shoulder crushed by the fall.
A feeble slash that normally wouldn't even scratch, but he skillfully wedged it into the torn flesh.
Grraaah!
The ogre bellowed. More a roar of fury than a scream of pain.
"Die! Die!"
Yorden stabbed wildly with the dagger.
Scrape, scrape.
The blade grated against the ogre's bones.
The ogre thrashed madly.
Unable to withstand the violent shaking, Yorden was flung to the ground.
Grrr.
The ogre growled low.
No longer dazed from the fall, but a true ogre with murderous intent stood before him.
Knights who'd finished with the trolls far off were running over.
Time to pull back.
But he couldn't.
His leg must have snapped when he fell.
"Run, quick!"
His men shouted.
"Can't even if I want to, you fools."
Chuckles escaping, he looked back at the ogre.
It approached with a savage grin.
Yorden grumbled softly.
Wished he'd die pretty, but wouldn't even leave a corpse.
Then he felt relief.
At least not some pathetic orc. Dying honorably against an ogre meant the departed wouldn't lord it over him as veterans. Bracing for the imminent pain, he gritted his teeth.
But no pain came, no matter how long he waited.
He looked at the ogre.
Frozen stiff, unmoving. Its jaws worked futilely, blood gushing from the hideous maw.
A faint line appeared on its neck.
The line thickened, then blood sprayed.
Thud.
The ogre's head fell.
Only then did Yorden see the figure before him.
A knight in full plate. On his chest gleamed a golden lion rampant, permitted only to royal knights. On the pauldrons, a roaring silver lion head, for those who'd reached sublime heights.
Both crests were familiar to him.
And he knew the one who bore both.
"Lady Arwen?"
The prince's knight, Arwen Kirguyen.
Arwen lifted her visor slightly.
Glorious radiance bloomed from her sword tip, haloing her like a halo.
"My respects to your valiant struggle."
A clear voice unfit for the battlefield din of curses and screams.
The knightess lowered her visor again. Then dashed along the wall.
"For Prince Your Highness!"
The silver lion's roar echoed everywhere.
"For Winter Castle!"
The knight order, having cleared the wall's monsters, followed her shout.
Morale soared. The monsters' momentum broke.
Boom!
That moment, the culverins roared again.
"The monsters are retreating!"
The horde swarming below faltered, then fled toward the mountains.
The black swarms of harpies and griffins had already vanished.
"We won!"
"Victory is ours!"
Rangers and knights cheered.
Yorden watched them with grim eyes.
"Survived again."
A dry voice, neither joy nor lament. He shrugged his shoulders.
As if bearing a heavy load, a weary motion.
"Captain."
An old subordinate smacked the back of his head.
"You lunatic!"
Yorden barked.
"Keep throwing your life away like that?!"
"Ramming an ogre with your body? Are you insane?!"
The men nagged.
"Must've caught it from His Highness."
Even Yorden thought he'd gone too far this time, replying sheepishly.
"You'll really die like that. Only three of us left from the 17th Squad. Even all the old-timers combined, we're under thirty."
At that, Yorden replied with rare seriousness.
"Don't worry. I won't die until I've turned these bloody lumps into real Winter Castle rangers worthy of those who went before."
"Yeah, right. Says the guy who barely survived today."
But the veterans didn't indulge his gravity.
"Got time to die? Battle's over doesn't mean you're done! Get back to work!"
"Fine, fine. Captain, go change your pants. Looked like you pissed yourself earlier."
"What do you take your company commander for?!"
The men guffawed.
"Huh? It's the lord."
One ranger, mid-chuckle, pointed stiffly at the approaching Winter Castle lord.
"Why's he so pissed... Ow!"
Yorden, asking about the lord's foul mood, clutched his shin and screamed.
"My leg! It's broken!"
"Wrong leg's broken. And."
The Winter Castle lord—Bail Ballerhard—grew stern.
"Ballerhard Rangers 1st Company Commander."
"1st Company Commander Yorden!"
Overawed by the fierce aura, Yorden forgot the pain and snapped to attention.
"You seem to know you're the company commander. Thought you were just a private, ditching your company to charge the ogre."
"Th-that was because the situation was so urgent... Ack!"
Bail kicked his other leg.
"Don't you know if the company commander falls, the squad leaders' burden skyrockets? Risking the whole company for one ogre? And you call yourself an officer?"
"Couldn't be helped... Sorry!"
Bail lowered his raised foot and scolded Yorden.
"With all that experience, still acting like a rookie? When will you shed the chick feathers?"
"Sorry."
"If you wanna swing that sword so bad, say so. I'll personally toss you off the wall. Fight all you want. Sound fun? Is that what you want?"
The two hundred rangers were no small part of the wall's defense. Nearly losing their commander would've been inexcusable.
"Sorry."
Yorden bowed repeatedly in apology.
"You lot too. If the commander dies, you die, command vacuum leads to ranger massacre—who'll take responsibility?"
"Sorry!"
Bail clicked his tongue at the squad leaders' crisp apologies, then spoke gravely.
"Don't die easy. Survive and carry the share of those gone before. That's our tribute and memorial."
"We'll remember."
Yorden and the squad leaders bowed solemnly.
Bail clicked his tongue once more and turned.
"Think we don't know how to swing a sword? Commanders need that awareness."
Watching Bail grumble away, Yorden muttered.
"Looked like he wanted to fight bad."
Even the squad leaders, who usually nitpicked his words, nodded in agreement this time.
The monsters didn't care for day or night.
Their numbers were horrifying. Winter Castle's rangers fought without rest.
Kill and kill, but no end.
A thousand dead today, more tomorrow.
A war as brutal as the warlord's.
But Winter Castle stood firm.
They weren't alone anymore.
When rangers tired, two legions from the north took the walls.
Seven knight orders rotated with the soldiers.
White Tower mages aided too. Novices with few spells that fizzled after one use, but they prevented major losses many times.
Dwarf culverins were there too.
Plus, reinforcements from the capital should've set out by now.
Hold till then, and counterattacking to annihilate wasn't impossible.
Yet no one was optimistic.
The horde before the castle was immense.
Monsters shoved from the mountains neared 10,000.
Now they didn't retreat to the mountains post-battle.
They lurked beyond arrow range, eyeing the castle.
At first, just clinging to walls and howling. But attacks grew organized over time.
Dozens of monster types assaulted like one army.
Orcs climbed crude goblin ladders and ropes. Ogres and trolls battered gates with rams. Harpies and griffins dropped monsters and stones.
"Something's definitely commanding the monsters."
Arwen Kirguyen was convinced watching their movements.
Otherwise, they'd have torn each other apart long ago, not cooperatively assaulting like this.
The problem was that something's identity.
Another monster king like the warlord?
Or something new?
Unknown.
If the prince were here, he'd know.
The frustration sharpened her sword's edge.
She dashed the walls madly, massacring monsters. Sometimes slaughtering hundreds alone.
Awe-struck Winter Castle rangers called her the 'Steel Knight'.
No grand reason.
Unlike the leather-and-plate knights of Winter Castle, she alone wore full plate.
A simple, crude name.
Arwen loved it.
Always judged by skill over looks or gender, 'Steel Knight' delighted her.
"The Steel Knight!"
When rangers cheered her appearance, she secretly smiled under her helm.
And she repaid the soldiers handsomely for the nickname. With monster blood. Overflowing.
Activity befitting 'Steel Knight'. But monster numbers didn't dwindle.
Stabilized at 10,000, then exploded.
Orc hordes from beyond the mountains joined en masse.
Not rabble, but a properly armed orc war legion.
Seeing crimson legion flags waving across the plains, Arwen frowned.
Unpleasant déjà vu.
The war sweeping the north flashed in her mind.
Dark green waves following the warlord, like phantoms before her eyes.
"No way..."
She denied it repeatedly.
But denial only strengthened the ominous feeling.
And the dread proved true.
When the monster army swelled near 30,000.
GRRAAAAAHH!
A horrific roar echoed from beyond the mountains.
"Lady Arwen!"
The Winter Castle lord called her sharply.
She drew her sword instantly. Raising her aura to the max.
So Ballerhard's still-soft soldiers wouldn't succumb to fear.
Star-like brilliance erupted from her sword.
Hummm.
Clear energy settled over the castle.
Dazed rangers jolted awake.
But that was it.
Awake, yet still in nightmare's heart.
Her aura couldn't fully dispel the beast's howl from deep in the mountains.
She spun her ring fiercer.
GRRAAAAH!
As if mocking her, the presence beyond roared.
Not even visible yet. Just roaring.
Arwen's aura trembled unstably.
As if about to vanish.
"Snow-capped mountains."
Then, a familiar tone's song drifted from somewhere.
"Frozen valleys, blood-soaked walls silent."
A whisper in her ear, her ring resonated.
Hummm.
Her helm burned like fire within.
Unable to bear it, she hurled off her helm and exhaled hot breath.
Her gaze turned below the wall.
There he was.
Sword in hand gleaming like dawn's twilight chasing night.
The 1st Prince whispering war poetry from his lips.
"Dawn's advance horns alone echo."
⟨ War Poem ⟩
The faltering silver lion's aura, Winter Castle's plummeting morale, soared to the heavens.