The Approaching North Wind (3)
It's really coming...
It hadn't even been a few days since I'd finished talking with Lia, and she was already loading me into a carriage and heading straight for the Northern Barrier.
We pushed the horses day and night, galloping without rest, and after about a day of hard riding, Lia and I finally arrived at the wall.
"Just stand here and that's it...?"
She led me to a deserted spot behind the battlements and then left with her knights to inspect the camp.
Her only instruction: keep a close eye on the battlefield.
So now all I had to do was stand here quietly and wait for them to come down.
I passed the time just standing there motionless, but then a sudden commotion beyond the wall caught my ear, drawing my gaze outward.
...It's terrifying.
Warriors mounted on wolves were surging across the snowfields like actual waves.
At their vanguard rode a warrior gripping a massive double-bladed axe that gleamed with blue light, charging ahead more ferociously than any other, leading the horde.
That had to be her—their khan, Skadi, the Ice-Shattering Khan.
This makes it all too real.
Soon, the knights led by Lia would clash with the warriors under Skadi.
To take everything—and to defend everything.
This war isn't the end...
In the original story, the northern wars dragged on for several rounds.
The warriors would retreat into the snowfields after being pushed back, rally monsters, and invade again, repeating the cycle.
Eventually, after losing countless warriors, Skadi joins hands with the shadowy antagonists for one final assault.
It ends in a northern victory, thanks to the heroine's aid after a brutal fight... but...
Lia loses her arm.
Lia loses her right arm, and the north suffers heavy losses in troops and resources.
That fatal damage festers, ultimately dooming the north when the antagonist forces invade.
What a shame.
But I couldn't just outright condemn the snowfield warriors for it.
They were simply starving.
The unrelenting cold had made survival on the tundra impossible, so they sought land to call their own.
If only they could resolve this peacefully.
But that was no easy feat.
The snowfields needed many things right now, and the north couldn't just hand them over.
If I could at least prevent the bloodshed...
No deaths would paint the perfect picture.
The north would remain strong against foreign threats, and the snowfields wouldn't ally with unknown villains.
The problem was, I couldn't make that picture a reality.
I don't have the power for that...
Stopping a conflict required power.
And unfortunately, I didn't have that kind of...
"...Do I?"
My gaze drifted downward without thinking.
There hung a single sword.
Even in this chaos, it casually gleamed with its unassuming gray hue, asserting its presence at my waist.
This sword's ability...
It's incredibly picky, but if you meet its conditions, it delivers overwhelming returns...
Maybe enough to settle all this.
No, I still shouldn't move...
If I just stayed put, nothing would happen to me.
Once I left the north, all this would be someone else's problem.
So if I just kept quiet for a bit...
...I don't even know anymore.
My inner conflict raged, but my feet were already moving as if entranced.
I didn't bother stopping; I just followed where they led, and before I knew it, I'd reached the spot where Lia was holding her meeting.
As I took one more step toward her, a knight guarding the area thrust his spear to block my path.
"I wish to speak with Lady Lia."
Part of me considered turning back, but having come this far, I didn't want to retreat.
Cautiously addressing the knight, he looked flustered and asked,
"You're... one of the wall sentries, aren't you?"
"...Yes. For now."
"Do you think you can just leave your post? Go back at once."
The knight scolded me with a baffled reaction to my response.
Fair enough—from his perspective, I was just some ordinary soldier, and the idea of me wanting to talk to Lia must've seemed absurd.
"No, I mean... you're right, but..."
I had no real counterargument. He was spot on.
I racked my brain for something to say, but drawing a blank, I sighed and stubbornly pressed on.
"Haa... I still need to see her."
"No. Go back."
"Just a moment is all..."
"Are you listening? Leave before I drag you out!"
Our commotion must've annoyed her, because Lia glanced our way.
Our eyes met just then, and I waved at her bewildered expression.
"Enough, Allen. Let him through."
Recognizing the situation, she stopped the knight and permitted my entry.
With her approval, the knight grudgingly withdrew his spear and stepped aside, eyeing me all the while.
"Thank you. I made it in thanks to you."
I gave a slight bow of gratitude toward her.
But ignoring that, the flustered Lia approached and immediately fired off her questions.
"What brings you here? Hadn't you decided to guard the wall?"
"Well... yeah, I did."
I nodded, and she didn't press further, assuming I had my reasons.
Seizing the opening as she fell silent, I hurried to speak.
"...Mind if I ask one thing?"
"Of course."
Lia nodded readily.
But with the enemy nearly upon us, she wasn't exactly relaxed, so I quickly laid out what I'd prepared.
"If I said there's a way to end this war without spilling blood, would you believe me?"
"...That would be ideal, but is there truly such a method?"
She didn't relish a war that demanded sacrifices either.
So she perked up at my words, responding positively. I nodded confidently at her.
"There is."
"Then...!"
"But there are conditions."
"What are they?"
"Declare who I am—before everyone. So both allies and enemies know."
Others might not grasp it, but to Lia, that meant:
Proclaim to all that a new Swordmaster had appeared in the world.
Thus, hearing me, Lia exclaimed in admiration, surprised.
"...I thought that wasn't to your taste?"
"Not thrilled about it, but... we should save who we can, right?"
She seemed to like that line, letting out a small laugh.
"I also need authority."
"How much?"
"Enough to speak for Countess Agehis."
Her reaction shifted sharply at my second demand.
The smile from before was gone, replaced by a grave expression.
And rightly so—representing her as countess carried far more weight.
"...That's a tall order."
"Without it, things get tricky."
I knew full well.
What it meant to wield the considerable authority she held over the north.
Great power came with equal responsibility, so she had to hesitate.
"Everything?"
"I need the power to represent the north's full will."
"No alternatives? That's no simple matter."
"I know how difficult it is."
With that, she sighed and sank into thought.
After a silence that felt eternally long despite being brief, her closed lips parted slowly.
"...If it's a plan with real potential, then so be it."
She nodded slightly, open to hearing it out.
Her authority was a delicate issue, so I chose my words carefully before proceeding.
"They call them barbarians in the empire, but they are true warriors. They revere strength, yet they do not live by it alone."
The snowfields had a culture. Not mere beasts driven by instinct.
Strength was just a means to survive the harsh frozen lands, and war was no welcome prospect for them either.
It meant dialogue was possible—hence, negotiation too.
"It's a simple method."
"I'll go to the battlefield alone."
We couldn't avoid a clash of force entirely. But it didn't have to take the form of war.
War was just the easiest way to force submission—nothing special about it.
"I'll go and make them all kneel."
In short: just make them all submit.