Chapter 35
Chapter 35
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Translator: Ebonarch
Chapter: 035
Chapter Title: On Humanity (3)
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As November set in, the blizzards began.
The bitter cold was a torment for both humans and monsters alike, but those humans hunkered behind the stockade had a slight advantage.
Whoooosh, clunk.
The wind sneaking through the window made the candle flicker, but the fireplace added a cozy warmth.
Scrape, scrape.
Nil scraped up the last of his stew with a hunk of bread and shoveled it into his mouth.
"Chomp, chomp, slurp."
Clink.
Landiv, eating quietly beside him, furrowed his brow—that was all. Nil Carpenter had been knighted and hadn't skipped a single day of scouting since, earning him respect for his dedication alone.
If anything, it was the usually brash Ray Schumacher who was watching his step.
"Hey, keep it down. The Lord's right here."
"Chomp, chomp... Huh?"
Nil, who had been licking his bowl clean, glanced at Arun, Landiv, and Pendersen, then set it down with a dejected look.
"It's fine. No need for formalities among us."
"They say even dogs don't get bothered while they're eating. Couldn't agree more."
Arun chuckled and patted him reassuringly, while Landiv chimed in with his own mildly controversial take. Only Pendersen, silently sipping his soup, pouted where no one could see.
Clunk.
The window rattled again in the wind.
"It's really coming down out there. The bone-chilling cold won't be far behind."
Arun frowned at the blizzard outside but relaxed upon seeing the stack of firewood by the hearth. His gaze shifted to Nil.
"Any word on the orcs?"
"We've set a 100km radius around the fortress as a safe zone and are patrolling the north and east in two squads each, but nothing unusual so far. That said..."
Mid-sentence, Nil eyed Pendersen's plate and snatched the leftover bread crust, popping it into his mouth.
"That's mine."
"Chomp, chomp. Thought you weren't gonna eat it. Sorry. Anyway, there's a report of a small orc band spotted near some ruins on the patrol boundary."
"Stragglers who didn't join the main group?"
"Could be some old ones that bolted to avoid getting eaten."
Ray Schumacher offered his take.
"They looked pretty scrawny, from what I hear."
"So, a small band has holed up in one of the ruined pioneer villages?"
"No big deal."
"I'd like to look at it differently."
Landiv, who had been quietly focused on his meal, set down his fork and knife. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, rinsed with water, and continued.
"Assuming they have a strong central figure, doesn't a small band digging in scream forward outpost?"
"...!"
"Nah, no way."
A hush fell over the room. Reserves, wave-breaking charges, and now forward bases? The window rattled in a gust, sending a chill down their spines.
"Interesting."
"Shall I capture a few once the snow lets up?"
Most agreed communication with orcs was all but impossible. But sometimes, they bridged the gap with brute force.
"Do that. But just so we're clear, I'll lead the next recon."
"No, you won't."
"Please leave the cavalry to us."
Landiv, Nil, and Ray shouted in unison. Pendersen barely held back, looking like he'd just missed his cue.
Despite the pushback, Arun didn't look upset.
"I know this is all for my safety. It's the one thing you lot defy me on."
"We understand your intent, my lord, but please remain the fortress's anchor."
Nil backed Landiv's plea.
"Karl the vice commander said it that day: what we need to protect isn't the stockade—it's Brad Cahill. I failed my captain, but we can't fail you."
"Karl said that, huh."
Arun thought of his old friend for a moment, but the image of dragon's play calmed him.
"But you've forgotten something. Is there anyone here stronger than me?"
"Ah!"
"..."
The resistance evaporated in an instant.
The silence was broken by the head chef wheeling in the dessert cart.
"Wine and cookies for dessert."
"Stick that under someone's nose else—brandy for me."
"Meeting's soon. Just a palate cleanser."
"Yes, sir."
In Arun's command structure, Nil Carpenter and Ray Schumacher had adapted well. Their easygoing natures helped, but Landiv's lack of fussiness played a part too.
'The North isn't high society.'
Landiv sighed shortly, recalling his lord's words.
Soon after finishing dessert, they turned their chairs one way. The meeting began as Arun set down his wine glass.
"Results of the investigation into Sir Yains Main Caminity."
Squire Pendersen read from the wooden tablet.
"First, from questioning the residents: after the eldest young lord took command, the draft age was raised and casualties dropped. Cross-verified with 27 interviews."
"Your take?"
Arun asked, and Nil nodded.
"No major clashes in the past year, that's for sure. Springgarden was the one stirring trouble."
"Same as I recall."
Ray Schumacher agreed.
"Continue."
Arun nodded, and Pendersen picked up another tablet.
"Next, on the soldiers: Northguard had around 3,000 residents and 1,000 troops garrisoned. Verified multiple times."
"What about outposts or branch fortresses?"
"They weren't in positions to handle that intel."
"Fair enough. Impressive either way."
"Their civilian-to-soldier ratio puts us to shame."
Westguard was still in stabilization mode, while Northguard—coming later—had pushed more aggressively.
"And both residents and soldiers complained unanimously about supply woes. Internal command disputes seem likely, but no core docs."
"Complicated over there too."
"We don't know. Grunts have limits anyway."
Arun stroked his chin.
"Succession struggle?"
"Doesn't seem so. Everyone agreed the eldest young lord owned Northguard."
"Guess I'll have to ask him straight."
Nil and Ray's eyes flicked to Arun. 'Then why bother investigating?' their faces said.
"Asking in ignorance is different from pressing when you know enough."
"Ah."
Humans are tricky. Even self-understanding is hard, let alone others'. Yet people never stop prying—it's survival.
"Are you planning to embrace Sir Yains, my lord?"
"Why think that?"
"If I'm out of line, my apologies. You just seem particularly invested..."
"An old friend, you say? I get it."
Arun grinned openly.
"Must look that way to you."
"Isn't it?"
"Childhood memories? You're seeing me too purely. If anything, it's utility value."
"Failed earl's house, stake in northern pioneering, capital connections."
"Ooh."
Landiv listed the points, and Nil and Ray nodded in understanding.
"If keeping him benefits us, no need for blood."
Arun spread his hands.
"Under my protection, his authority becomes mine too—with the caveat of force backing it."
"Fair point. I get it."
"Enough talk. Prep recon once the snow stops."
"After the wind sweeps the drifts, like into rivers and valleys. Give the men rest till then."
"Do it. How's squire candidate recruitment?"
Arun eyed Landiv.
"Selections done yesterday. Ten each to Sir Ray and Sir Nil."
"Heard that? Pick five apiece."
"Yes, sir."
"Gotta be exactly five? I'm swamped—can't the last ones standing just stick?"
Landiv glanced at Arun's face, then nodded.
"Squire authority rests with the individual knight."
"Thanks for everything, anyway."
"My honor as your knight."
Was it the all-around threats of nature and monsters? The new command showed no infighting. Manners and eloquence might lack, but mutual respect shone through.
The fireplace crackled, sparks flying.
The next day, the snow stopped.
But the wind raged on, gale-force blasts sweeping unfrozen snow into lowlands like rivers and valleys. The terrain shifted, but it posed no danger to northern men.
On November's last day, the wind calmed, skies cleared.
Snap!
Mooo.
The whip cracked the ground, and the tamed oxen lumbered forward. Soon, the massive gate turned, chains taut.
Grind.
The huge log gate lifted, cavalry emerging.
Clop, clop.
Neigh!
The thirty-odd riders filed out single-file, splitting into groups of ten at about 100m intervals, then charging off.
Thud thud thud.
"Huff, huff."
To fend off the skin-cutting chill, men and horses alike were bundled head to toe in hides—like hellish demons.
Bringing up the rear at a walk were Arun and company, followed by hay-loaded wagons.
Rattle, creak.
Man and beast alike need feeding. The thrill of the charge had its price.
"One hour walk to match vanguard spacing."
"Tch, thought I'd get a real run in."
"..."
No one reacted to Arun's grumble. Even the polite Landiv didn't turn.
One did, though.
A figure deep in a hood sidled up slyly.
"Heh heh heh."
"What's so funny? Creeps me out."
"Just love how your men adore you."
"Spare me the flattery—ditch the shady hood."
"Fine, fine."
Northguard's former commander Yains threw back his hood.
Soon their horses were side by side, backs bent forward. It looked almost affectionate, comically so.
"That rumor true? You jumped the stockade, cut through orc lines?"
"Think so?"
"Right? No idiot top commander charges enemy formations—that voids tactics study."
"..."
"Am I talking solo? Say something. Mad?"
"You're the same as ever. Back then too—provoke till they swung, then beat 'em claiming self-defense."
"Love hearing I'm unchanged."
Still cherry-picking words like old times.
"Let's spar sometime. Check if your sword arm's still sharp."
"Haha, pass. Forgot? You always had the edge."
"Who knows. Two years changes a lot."
Yains sobered.
"No. Time's been harsher on you—I feel it. Body and mind grown accordingly. Enough I'd entrust myself."
"Your trials look rough too."
"Ask what you want. No lies."
Yains nailed the core in few words, turning his head.
"Interrogation?"
"If you wish."
His gaze stayed fixed ahead.
"Heard you probed my people. Not upset—just saying I'm ready to be straight too."
"My people? Yeah, good rep."
"Normals are. Ease bullying, they thank you."
"So you think they're good folk?"
"Hardly."
Yains laughed atop his horse, bending far back.
"Just guilt for not protecting 'em. But you're after something else, right?"
"I..."
As Arun opened his mouth, Landiv shouted.
"Picking up speed now. Match the wagons."
"Hyah."
Rattle, creak.
The eight hay-mountain wagons—two horses each—sped up. Bundled tight, no spills.
Yains shook his head, falling back; Arun gripped his reins.
The non-stop riders camped that late afternoon at Westguard's northwest, 30km out.
"Forest here?"
Arun played dumb; Nil explained.
"Glacial melt flows summers. Hey! Who said walk? Want me running?"
"Wagons first. Ralph's squad, horses."
"Go, hustle."
Soldiers dashed, forming wagons square, tarp-covered. Snow packed floor gaps.
"More snow. Billy, tarp up top."
Roof on, tent done.
Soldiers kept busy: fires melting snow, boiling hay for horses. Then cavalry ate, curled by mounts, out cold.
"Guards?"
"Monsters night-attacking through this snow?"
"True."
Arun added wood to the fire.