Chapter 1
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 1
Chapter Title: Northernrocks
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"Ugh! It's freezing!"
Someone let out a groan, and a cloud of white breath billowed out.
Lindelmann wrinkled his nose slightly amid the cluster of more than a dozen men huddled tightly around the campfire.
It was the stench from the northern soldiers who didn't bathe often.
Typical garrison troops... Tsk!
Lindelmann, whose handsome face always earned him compliments wherever he went, quickly covered his nose and mouth with one hand and retreated backward.
Whoooosh!
The moment he pulled away from the fire, a blade-like gust of wind slashed across his face.
The stinging pain was secondary; in an instant, the mucous membranes in his nose froze, making it hard to breathe. He rubbed his nose with his gloved hand a few times and turned around.
In the distance, he spotted troops dressed in starkly lighter gear than those nearby.
Men with fierce expressions, clad in thick padded clothes overlaid with chainmail-reinforced leather armor, and crude cloaks pieced together from beast pelts draped over it all.
They didn't foolishly rub their hands together or carelessly remove their boots.
They simply stood silently, warming their bodies, glaring at one spot with murderous eyes that gleamed even as they inspected the weapons at their waists.
Northernrocks soldiers...
Lindelmann eyed the battle-hardened, scarred, and grim-faced men with a hint of tension.
Ever since the founding war had fully ended over a decade ago, they were the empire's only elite troops still engaged in real combat.
Lindelmann's gaze shifted to the object of their watch.
They were all prisoners, their sallow faces devoid of any vitality.
Stretched out in a line, they had set up branches from the coniferous forest as windbreaks between the trees and huddled together for warmth, small hunks of black bread in their hands.
The prisoners devoured the rock-hard black bread—enough to make one's teeth ache just looking at it—like men possessed.
Some chewed voraciously even as blood trickled from their gums, tearing and sucking at it without a care.
Yet even then, they never forgot to glance nervously at the Northernrocks fortress soldiers.
Already, several had been killed for irking them on the way here.
"Hoo."
Gazing at the hundreds of pitiful, fear-stricken wretches—barely fit to be called human—in this bitter cold, a flicker of pity crossed Lindelmann's eyes.
But it was just a flicker. The pity swiftly turned to contempt.
These hundreds of prisoners crammed together were all monstrous scum who had committed not one but two or three heinous crimes like murder, rape, and robbery.
So pitying trash that no one would care about even if they dropped dead on Northway's gray plains was far less worthwhile than pitying himself, who had volunteered for over a month of this ordeal.
"Time to move out. Get the garrison troops ready."
A gravelly voice nearby made Lindelmann whip his head around.
The speaker was Luther Isaac, one of the Northernrocks fortress knights and effectively a staff officer. He had come out with fortress soldiers to escort the prisoners.
"What are you waiting for?"
"Ah, yes! Right away."
A noble he couldn't dare cross despite being a nobody like himself—Lindelmann smacked his lips, then bellowed toward the campfire he'd just left.
"Prepare to depart!"
But the Headgates garrison troops dawdled, pretending to stamp out the fire.
Already irritated, Lindelmann glared and made a show of reaching for his longsword.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing?"
"Yes, sir!"
At his sharp tone, the garrison troops finally scrambled to extinguish the flames, donning gloves and lacing boots.
In contrast, the Northernrocks fortress soldiers moved with swift precision.
Before Lindelmann could even speak, they doused their fire and charged toward the prisoners, instantly pressuring a group ten times their number.
Snow piled up to their ankles on the plain, but it posed no hindrance to their light, rapid movements.
Clang!
With a sharp metallic ring, short swords about eighty centimeters long were drawn in unison.
"You lot! Get ready to move!"
The terrified prisoners hastily formed lines and shuffled into the path cleared by the sword-wielding soldiers.
"Sir Isaac, four aren't moving!"
"Cut down anything that doesn't move, dead or alive."
Slice!
No sooner had he spoken than a gruesome sound followed.
The metallic tang of blood spread through the air.
But the prisoners didn't dare look back, trudging forward desperately.
At least no one died today—they considered it good luck...
"Let's go!"
On the gray expanse where icy winds howled, the eerie clank of iron chains soon echoed across Northway's barren land.
Brutal.
Glancing at the steaming red puddle, Lindelmann shuddered.
He should be used to it by now, but the sight of a man's half-severed head flopping around still unsettled him.
Three seemed truly frozen to death; one had faked it and gotten his throat slit.
He'd tried to slack off, but tricks like that wouldn't work on these inhuman demons.
Devils...!
Shivering, Lindelmann spurred his horse to the front and cautiously asked,
"Sir Isaac, when do we arrive?"
Luther, riding ahead, glanced back.
His wind-swept, icy face made Lindelmann regret asking.
Fortunately, Luther replied calmly.
"We'll arrive before nightfall."
Lindelmann's face brightened a bit.
"Ah, good. The black bread just issued was our last. We have strict orders not to let them starve to death. Plus, if we don't make it by today, we might have to dip into the special provisions His Majesty granted the legion."
"Won't happen, so don't worry. Even if we're late, it's fine. They're to become legion soldiers anyway—I can feed them under my responsibility. But you, Sir Zaroph, and the Headgates garrison aren't legion members, so you'll go hungry."
"..."
His unchanging cold tone made Lindelmann shrink involuntarily.
From what he'd seen so far, Luther was the type to let them starve without hesitation.
"But as I said, it won't come to that."
Luther finished and rode on.
After days together, Lindelmann felt a twinge of hurt.
"Haa..."
But he only let out a quiet sigh.
I've lost my mind. Why volunteer for this hell when I could've just done things normally? What possessed me to choose this path?
He replayed the regret he'd felt these past three days—no, since entering the north—but as always, it was pointless.
The empire's most notorious garrison post, even among its heartlands.
Even now, two decades into the emperor's reign that had pacified the chaos, combat continued unabated on the vast northern plains.
This was Northway and the Northern Great Mountains.
His longing for the true knights battling here for over a decade, and greed for the merit points needed to become an imperial knight, had led to this suffering.
Of course, Lindelmann wasn't fighting—he just had to deliver the prisoners and return.
But the journey here was his first taste of such misery, one he never wanted to repeat.
Especially the last three days since leaving Headgates and entering Northway had been grueling beyond words.
I have to endure. For imperial knighthood! For those merit points!
Kiiiiiing!
"Ugh!"
A gale like the wail of hundreds of horses hit, and Lindelmann shivered, forgetting merit points.
Just a little longer. Just hold on. He said we'd arrive today, so really just a bit more...
The utterly ordinary young knight aspirant, desperate for advancement, ground his teeth and raised his cloak collar again.
Bwoooo!
A long trumpet blast jolted Lindelmann awake from his doze on horseback.
"We're here."
Luther glanced back with his usual curt tone.
"Ah!"
Lindelmann gaped, speechless.
Vast gray clouds stretched like an upturned plain across the enormous sky.
Beneath them, countless towering peaks formed a gigantic rampart like a giant's hand, spanning as far as the eye could see.
"The Northern Great Mountains..."
Awe at the legendary range dazed Lindelmann's eyes.
His gaze naturally shifted to the man-made structure at the mountain pass entrance.
A massive, foreboding fortress with double walls over three hundred meters wide at first glance, its dozen spires piercing the sky.
"That's..."
"Northernrocks."
As Luther replied, the drawbridge inside the fortress slowly lowered.
Thud!
The gates swung open, and a dozen cavalry burst out, galloping toward them.
"Hm?"
Luther reacted with surprise.
Huh? He can be startled too?
Lindelmann pressed his pounding chest, watching the approaching riders curiously—especially the lead man.
A man in his forties, in unrefined armor like Luther's, with a beast-pelt cloak.
High nose, sharp eyes; trim the scruffy beard under his nose and mouth, and he'd look quite dignified.
Luther was clearly shocked to see him.
"Who is that knight..."
"Luther Bonat Isaac, reporting successful completion of the commander's orders and return!"
Luther saluted from horseback—right fist pounding left chest three times, then arm extended upward—and shouted.
"Hup!"
Lindelmann clamped his mouth shut mid-question.
Luther's commanding presence aside, the word "commander" had slipped out.
As far as Lindelmann knew, Northernrocks fortress's commander was...
"Gone a few days and lost your mind? Why the fancy gestures?"
The man reined up and playfully smacked Luther's raised hand.
Luther lowered his arm, a bit embarrassed.
"There's a knight from the capital's Alteria here. Gotta uphold some dignity, right?"
"Dignity? Screw dignity. Hey! You, capital knight—what's your name?"
"Y-Yes? Ah, yes! Lindelmann, third son of the Zaroph family!"
Startled but thrilled, Lindelmann answered, emotion lighting his face.
"Zaroph, eh... Sir Gophrin Zaroph well?"
Knowing his father made Lindelmann's expression even more ecstatic.
"Yes! Father is always loyal to His Majesty the..."
"Good to hear he's fine. Let's head in."
The commander cut him off and turned his horse.
"Listen up, you bastards! This is where you'll live for the next ten years!"
A soldier's hoarse shout rang out.
"W-We made it?"
"Ugh! Finally, some relief."
"Relief? Northern Great Mountains is the Gate of Hell. We're as good as dead now."
"They say it's crawling with savage barbarians like demons."
"And magical beasts that tear humans apart alive..."
"Ugh..."
"Damn it! Scaredy-cats. We were dead men anyway. I'll hack those two-legged bastards here for ten full years and walk out alive."
"Guess we should be grateful for the chance to live, huh."
"Ten years, ten years... *Sob!*"
A few shouted boldly, but most prisoners hung their heads, faces mixed with anxiety and resignation.
Lindelmann snapped out of his daze and yelled,
"L-Let's go too!"
"Yes, sir."
Unlike the excited Lindelmann, the garrison troops passed by with bored looks. He flushed slightly.
The long, harsh march was finally over.
Yet neither the prisoners—who had longed to reach Northernrocks—nor Lindelmann looked particularly joyful.
(To be continued)