Chapter 129
Chapter 129
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 129
Chapter Title: On a Business Trip, the Nightmare Has Come (3)
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Northern warriors are brave.
Their bodies, honed through relentless training amid the blinding snowstorms of the snowy mountains, never cool. Northern warriors are like red-hot iron—fiercely blazing metal that never cools.
To them, defeat is more than mere humiliation.
They learn from it. They gain enlightenment.
"What a shame."
Someone said.
"It couldn't be helped."
Another voice followed.
"We misjudged the opponent's level."
Oyacal lightly shook his head.
He patted the side of his head to dislodge the snow from his ear. Cold water trickled down his cheek.
"We trusted only what we saw. We didn't properly gauge the opponent's strength, so we let our guard down. Of course we lost. It hardly even counts as a defeat."
He cracked his stiff neck as he spoke.
"It wasn't even a proper fight."
It was a fight where they insulted their opponent.
It was deeply shameful. They hadn't given their all, intending only to test the guest. Because of their carelessness, the fight never truly began. They had been rude.
"A shameful affair."
The warriors nodded at Oyacal's words.
"There's still time, Oyacal."
Someone pointed deep into the mountains.
"If we take the shortest path, we can meet the guest once more before the final gate."
Oyacal nodded.
"If we've been rude, we must make amends."
He picked up his weapon and turned around.
Warriors rose to their feet. Some still stared blankly into space, dazed. Oyacal addressed them.
"Warriors who know shame, follow me. I'm going to request a rematch with our guest."
The warriors looked at Oyacal.
His eyes sparkled like roaring flames.
...Defeat is shameful.
The warriors closed and opened their eyes.
It's because it's shameful and humiliating that it's defeat.
Shame and humiliation.
Disgrace and anger.
All those emotions led to one thing.
That's why we crave victory.
The thirst for victory is the driving force of a warrior.
"Haha."
Watching the warriors rise one by one, Oyacal burst into laughter. He bared his white teeth and thumped his chest.
"Now that's the spirit of northern warriors."
They planted their feet firmly on the ground.
They brushed the snow from their bodies and lifted their heads. There was no fear in their eyes. Those who had trembled in fear now burned with fighting spirit.
"I'll go first."
The warriors followed Oyacal.
The snowy mountains were like their front yard. Even in deep snow that sank with every step, their movements were unhindered—unstoppable.
They leaped over trees and jagged rocks, scaling cliffs, then slid down slopes.
Shwaaak!
Snow sprayed into the air.
They landed smoothly and raised their heads.
"Oh."
There stood a single girl.
She had just passed the final checkpoint on the path to White Night Castle and now stared at the warriors, having come to a halt.
"......"
The warriors silently assumed their stances.
No one let their guard down. Silence hung between them across the snowfield. The girl broke it.
Thud. She took a step forward.
What approached was a wall.
Sensing the immense wall, the warriors swallowed dryly. Excitement filled their eyes.
Acknowledge defeat, but challenge endlessly.
The warriors asked themselves.
Until when?
The answer was one.
Northern warriors shared a single mindset.
Until we're convinced.
That was the northern way.
"Raaah!"
The warriors roared and kicked off the ground.
2.
Snow fell endlessly—not just from the sky, but from the ground, spraying upward in all directions.
Shwaaak!
A warrior swung his greatsword, sending snow flying. It was a blunted test blade for safety... but its sheer weight made it threatening nonetheless.
Kwachik.
Yet Raniel caught it barehanded. Gripping the greatsword with one hand, she spun her body. Her ash-gray hair fluttered. From between the whipping strands, a pale white fist shot out.
Kwak.
Raniel seized the warrior's head and leaped into the air, driving her knee into his temple.
"Guhk...!"
The warrior's pupils shook.
But he didn't pass out. He reached out to grab the girl before him. Raniel kicked him away mid-air and launched herself higher.
In the air.
An opening had formed.
"Oyacal!"
The warriors didn't miss it.
Shwaaak!
Oyacal slid across the snowfield, closing the distance. Several others did the same. Not all warriors relied on brute force—some, like Oyacal, were agile.
They calculated her landing spot.
Reading the girl's mid-air spin, they swung and hurled their weapons.
Whoosh!
Raniel tilted her head slightly in the air. An axe whistled past her ear. A long chain connected the axe to its wielder.
Kwak.
Raniel grabbed it.
Chwarararak!
She spun in mid-air, gripping the chain. Her ash-gray hair whipped around as the chain's owner was yanked toward her.
A warrior right beneath her feet.
"Kuhk!"
Raniel stomped his lower back with her heel upon landing. His body convulsed. One warrior neutralized.
One down. Three ahead, five behind.
Raniel assessed the numbers.
She grabbed Oyacal's wrist as he closed in. The moment she tried to throw him, he twisted his stance. With a crack, his shoulder dislocated, slipping free.
He wouldn't fall for the same trick twice.
As if to say exactly that.
Gritting his teeth, Oyacal punched out. It was blocked. But his goal of buying time succeeded. He smirked.
Shwaaak!
Snow erupted.
Through the flying flakes, five warriors lunged at Raniel simultaneously. Their encirclement had no gaps.
To block, she'd have to strike all five at once.
To corner large prey, warriors sometimes cooperated. They were skilled hunters who knew how to trap their quarry.
Whoosh!
Their weapons converged on the girl in unison.
Swords swung almost simultaneously formed a tight net. Deflecting them all was impossible.
Or so Oyacal thought.
Not Raniel.
"Kuhk!"
Raniel elbowed Oyacal's solar plexus and stepped sideways. Using that foot as a pivot, she spun.
Twirl.
Her feet danced intricately across the snowfield. It almost looked like a dance. Mid-spin, she swung her arm.
Kwajik!
One sword deflected.
Four left. Dropping nearly simultaneously, no openings. But openings could be made.
Shwaak.
Raniel lowered her stance, sliding across the snow. She arched her back, drawing a sword down low. They seemed simultaneous, but subtle gaps existed between blades. Raniel seized them.
Flick!
She snapped her arched back upright, extending both arms to smack away two swords. They shattered. An opening formed. She wedged herself into it, widening the gap.
"Kheop!"
"Guk!"
The remaining two shattered as well.
Fully escaped from the assault, Raniel shook out her wrists. She exhaled shortly and raised her head.
"Hoo..."
Her gaze turned to the remaining warriors.
There were many. Even those she'd thought neutralized were staggering to their feet.
Tough bastards.
Raniel inwardly clicked her tongue.
She'd held back... but the force was enough to knock out most knights in one hit. Yet these warriors rose after taking several.
Well, they've always had that unbreakable grit.
Even on the battlefield, northern warriors were like that.
Arms lost, ankles broken, blood pouring—they fought to the end, like berserkers.
"......"
Raniel absently touched her forearm.
Red handprints marked it—the trace of Oyacal grabbing her just before she elbowed his solar plexus.
Guess I can't hold back anymore.
Raniel made her decision.
She abandoned any thought of breaking their will half-heartedly.
Squeeze.
She gripped the tip of her glove and pulled it off.
The glove's folds smoothed out.
"...!"
Several warriors flinched.
They sensed the change. Oyacal did too. He reflexively opened his mouth.
"Bow your heads immedi—!"
The words didn't finish.
Snap. A finger flick echoed. In that instant, Oyacal—with his hawk-like eyes—caught a fleeting glint of light.
A flashing light.
And an invisible shockwave that shook the snowy mountain.
Kwaaaaaang!
The roar battered the mountains.
The snowfield upheaved. Piles of snow blasted into the air. More snow rose than fell.
"......"
The shock passed once.
It hadn't targeted the warriors. But they knew it had merely missed on purpose.
Only then did the warriors realize.
They recalled what they'd briefly forgotten.
...She wasn't a warrior.
A professor at Aphria Academy.
She was a mage.
A mage, not a warrior.
One by one, the warriors lowered their weapons.
One spell. That was enough.
Realizing the overwhelming gap, the warriors accepted defeat. But it wasn't humiliating like before. They'd clashed with full force and lost.
All that remained was to acknowledge the result.
"The test is over."
Oyacal said.
"We'll escort you to White Night Castle."
The welcome was complete.
The warriors showed utmost respect to the esteemed guest who had come to the North.
3.
The lord of the North.
Northern Duke Eryahil van Grace.
He rested his chin on his hand, awaiting his guest. Quite some time had passed since the welcome began. They should arrive soon.
"Are you worried?"
His wife, seated beside him, asked. Eryahil chuckled softly and shook his head.
"Not at all."
"Is that so? I'm a bit concerned."
She said worriedly.
"It's a guest from the capital. If they got hurt in the mountains..."
"That won't happen."
Eryahil said, chin still propped.
"It's someone Rak recommended."
His expression impassive, he continued.
"His knack for spotting the strong is even better than mine—he inherited it perfectly. No way he'd recommend some nobody."
The sixth sense.
His son surpassed him in that one regard. Eryahil trusted Rak's judgment.
"Looks like they've arrived."
Someone knocked on the door.
Soon, the door to White Night Castle creaked open. Looking down from the hall, Eryahil smirked.
Warriors entered through the door.
Bruises covered their bodies; some limped. Another dangled an arm, likely broken. Yet smiles played on their lips.
"We've brought the guest."
Not the victor's smile.
The relieved smile of the defeated, forced to concede.
The warriors parted.
A girl stepped into White Night Castle between them.
"...Hah."
Eryahil let out a hollow laugh, chin still propped.
"What a monster we've got here."
He slowly rose from his seat.
Extending his arm, he waved off the warriors. Meeting the girl's eyes, Eryahil spoke.
"You've had a long journey—well done. We'll prepare a banquet shortly. We'll talk details there."
White Night Castle's stewards guided the girl.
Eryahil headed toward the banquet hall, bustling with food preparations. His son had brought a real heavyweight. A smile spread across his lips.
Two monsters in one season.
An esteemed guest acknowledged by the warriors.
Eryahil trusted their judgment too. A guest they approved was worth honoring.
"Call the warriors too and feed them well. Banquets are more fun the rowdier."
"Yes, understood."
The ordered stewards moved.
"...Hm?"
Heading to the banquet hall, Eryahil paused, tilting his head. Something felt forgotten.
But only briefly.
Probably nothing.
True to a northern duke, he ignored trifles. Eryahil proceeded to the banquet hall.
* * *
Gurgle.
"......"
Celly nibbled at the cookies on the table.
She couldn't eat the portion for the guest, nor what would be left for chatting... so only a little was allowed.
"They're late..."
She'd waited ages, but no sign.
Fiddling with the cold coffee cup, a wave of loneliness hit. Celly sighed deeply.
Creak.
That moment.
At the door opening, Celly straightened up. She brushed back her hair and looked toward it.
"Come in, you're a bit lat—"
Her rehearsed line trailed off as she shut her mouth. It wasn't the expected guest.
"...Uh, White Mage Tower Lord?"
It was a northern warrior.
One of the few reasonable ones: Hawk-Eyed Oyacal. Celly blinked.
Why is Oyacal here?
She guessed the reason.
It wasn't hard. Celly smiled leisurely and nodded.
"A little delayed, huh?"
It made sense.
The North's weather was fickle. An unexpected snowstorm could delay them.
That's why Oyacal, who supervises the test, is here instead. Yeah, possible.
So when would they arrive...?
As Celly opened her mouth to ask—
"Um... They've already arrived."
"Pardon?"
"The test is over, and the banquet's in full swing at White Night Castle. I just stopped by to tidy up..."
Oyacal asked cautiously.
"Did the message not reach you...?"
Celly suddenly felt like crying.
Author's Note
The White Mage Tower Lord, brushed off as 'no big deal'...