Chapter 102
Chapter 102
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 102
Chapter Title: Reunion at the White Gate
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Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop!
A single White-Horned Deer burst out of the long, harrowing canyon of screams.
Before them stretched a vast plain where white and green mingled in perfect balance.
They'd barely escaped one canyon, yet the steam from their breath felt entirely different now.
I hastily adjusted my clothes and urged the snorting deer onward once more.
"Hyah!"
Clop! Clop! Clop! Clop!
The White-Horned Deer, treading snow for the first time in ages, galloped across the plain with lively hoofbeats.
Startled, Black Arrow clung tightly to my waist with both arms and shouted.
"Aren't you going a bit too fast?"
"Hold on tight!"
The Northern Army would have blocked the Second Prince's forces from entering the Canyon of Screams as promised.
But given Snow-Covered's subtly belligerent nature, a real clash might have broken out.
If so, we needed to join them as quickly as possible to bolster their forces and minimize casualties.
Black Arrow and I took only the bare minimum rest as we raced our mount toward the pass.
Clop, clop, clop.
After another two or three hours, the plain began to give way.
In the distance, at the foot of a hill, the White Gate appeared, blanketed in deep snow.
"Hm?"
But contrary to expectations, there was no sign of fierce combat between the two armies anywhere.
Instead, only the Northern Army was visible, casually striking camp in a relaxed formation as they tidied up.
Had the Northern Army repelled the Second Prince's forces alone? And on an open plain without walls?
I'd braced for brutal warfare upon my return to the North, but now I trudged down the hill in bewilderment.
Sure enough, a Northern sentry spotted me from afar and hurried back to camp, soon stirring up a bustle inside.
Clop, clop!
With both sides confirming we were allies, there was no time to waste.
I spurred the White-Horned Deer straight toward the camp's main gate, where banners fluttered.
"Are you Sir Broken Sword, by chance?"
"That's right."
"Please wait just a moment!"
A Northern officer on the watchtower verified my identity and hurriedly signaled.
The barricades blocking the entrance were swiftly cleared, opening the path inward.
"It was an honor to meet you!"
"Safe return, sir!"
Their movements were crisp and disciplined, exuding the aura of true elite soldiers.
I nodded to the saluting troops and pressed on with the deer.
Black Arrow poked my waist.
"They respect you."
"......They're just doing their duty."
"Acting all modest."
Receiving respect for faithfully upholding one's duties was the most rewarding feeling of all.
I tried to hide my rising smile as I crossed the heart of the camp.
"Move it, faster! You wanna stay out here forever?"
"Where're the rookies? Those bastards ditched us!"
The camp's mood was far from grim.
Having successfully repelled one assault, their wounded numbers were low, and the atmosphere suggested they were on the verge of withdrawing to the pass.
Ahem.
If I'd known it'd be like this, maybe I should've taken a quick detour to some eastern sightseeing spots.
A sharp gaze prickling from behind made me cough awkwardly.
"Master!"
At that moment, urgent footsteps brought a terribly familiar voice from right ahead.
Word of my arrival must have spread—the Knight King herself had rushed to the camp, decorum be damned.
Snow-Covered came dashing over, heedless of royal dignity, calling me "Master."
As I dismounted, she threw herself at me, nearly sending us both tumbling onto our rears.
"The troops are watching, Your Majesty."
"Hee hee."
Fortunately, Snow-Covered straightened up with a delighted laugh.
I matched her by dropping to one knee and promptly handed over Richard's personal letter from my bosom.
"Mission accomplished. Reporting back, Your Majesty."
"You've truly suffered for us, sir. Is this a letter from King Richard?"
"Yes, Your Majesty. The Eastern King promised to send an envoy soon."
The East and North were now bound in a shared fate, allies by blood if not birth.
Once their internals solidified, envoys would exchange hands, and the faded Steel Alliance would soon be reforged.
Snow-Covered, smiling warmly as she recalled Prince Richard, carefully stowed the letter and helped me to my feet.
"We couldn't have done it without you. The North and I owe you a debt we can never repay."
Reclaiming the North, retaking the pass, rebuilding the alliance.
Those distant dreams had drawn tantalizingly close.
How much nearer was I now to the late king?
I rose, cherishing that longed-for day in my heart.
"- - - - - - - -."
Behind the beaming Snow-Covered stood our entire assembled party and the reviewed Northern troops, all gazing our way.
How was the journey, squire?
The season was winter, with sleet falling.
Feeling a swell of emotion like never before, I bowed deeply to them from the heart.
You look happy, squire.
With these waiting comrades and a place to return to, I had finally crested the ridge of a life I'd only gazed at longingly.
It was a warm winter.
"Damn that bitch! Arrrgh!"
The Second Prince, whipping his horse into a frenzy, bellowed at the overcast sky.
But no amount of hoarse cursing could dispel his humiliation and rage.
"P-Prince, please calm down. Your wound..."
"Shut your mouth!"
He'd marched to seize the East, only to suffer defeat at the Northern Army's hands on the open plain.
They hadn't even mounted a single counterattack—just fled the field like cowards.
Even if hastily conscripted, was such a blundering rout and loss conceivable?
Faced with utter defeat beyond rationalization, the Second Prince was forced to rethink everything.
The Northern Army's momentum was unnervingly fierce—far beyond what he'd anticipated as winnable.
Especially their first assault under the King's personal command; their fervor bordered on madness.
Were they superior in quality? No.
His prized talents had been mere target practice before the Gray Wolf, and their once-dominant cavalry was now nearly matched.
And that was the end of it?
No!
The Northern Kingdom, allied with the resource-rich East, would only grow stronger with time.
But he, with fronts split in two, would inevitably decline.
Narrow lands, limited troops, scarce supplies.
Having seen everything he possessed gnawed away, the Second Prince faced his final decision.
"......Kurman! Totolino! Head straight for the Third Prince's territory!"
"The Third Prince, sire?"
"Yes. Deliver my letter."
With his forces imbalanced, diplomacy was the only path to recovery.
Arrogant but no fool, the Second Prince accepted reality and decided to bow his head—for now.
His brother Raki, ever resistant to the First Prince, was distracted by the World Tree fruit. But properly persuaded, he'd surely offer some aid.
"Understood, Your Highness!"
The Second Prince watched his departing retainers, enduring the pain as best he could.
As the stinging nape of his neck began to settle, he reached for the reins again.
"Your Highness!!"
Clop! Clop! Clop!
But from the direction of his outpost, a lone rider came galloping in haste.
Please, no. Please, not what I'm thinking! Pale-faced, the Second Prince dropped the reins.
"The western front has been breached! The First Prince leads his full army and is advancing now!"
"Gah!"
"Your Highness!"
In his absence, the western front had crumbled.
His vision whitening, the Second Prince shuddered violently before vomiting blood and collapsing.
Clack, clack, clack.
Thud, thud, thud.
In the deep cave toward the World Tree's roots, lit only by a single candle, the Elf Queen and high priestess walked side by side.
"......It's been ages since I came myself."
"You visit occasionally. The energy here is so pure."
"Spare me the nonsense, priestess."
The World Tree and its roots had once been a holy site for elves.
But after long years, it had become a place visited only by the most devout priests.
Even pilgrims had stopped coming, from what she'd heard.
The Elf Queen sighed deeply at the crestfallen high priestess.
"The nobles? Still resisting?"
"......They're hesitant. The North isn't an immediate threat."
"It's that Third Prince bastard who's urgent, right?"
"That's the main reason..."
The Third Prince, bordering the Great Forest, was an orc of peculiar tastes.
He idolized beautiful elves and yearned for splendid western culture.
But over time, that admiration twisted into perverse lust and greed.
Wanting to be an elf became wanting to dominate them all.
He repeatedly invaded the forest, enslaving countless elves.
And he didn't stop there—he coveted the World Tree and its immortal fruit.
It was maddening for the elves.
A grotesque orc with half-formed features harassing their peaceful lives.
In the end, after deliberations, the Queen and nobles had drawn troops from standing armies and houses.
Most of those forces now faced the Third Prince uneasily in the Great Forest.
"Sigh......"
Peace had lasted too long, it seemed.
Abandoning hopes for noble aid, the Elf Queen planned military expansion—the first in years—and trudged onward heavily.
"We've arrived."
"Ridiculously vast."
"Your Majesty, please mind your words here..."
In the sanctuary beneath the World Tree's roots, countless priests prayed in silence.
But the Elf Queen strode through the center, scoffing indifferently.
The World Tree wasn't a god.
Just a massive mutant tree brimming with energy, a biological machine producing fruit.
Having realized that twisted truth long ago, the Elf Queen extended her hand arrogantly.
The high priestess hurriedly offered a glass vial from her bosom.
"Three portions in total."
"Sufficient."
An elixir crafted in secret from the nobles—concentrated essence of World Tree fruit.
Admiring its sapphire gleam, the Queen knelt on one knee.
"- - - - - - - -."
Beneath the sanctuary where the roots touched lay an eternally pristine underground lake.
The kneeling Elf Queen poured the elixir into it.
Drip, drip, drip.
The lake shimmered where it met the sapphire.
The priests prostrated en masse at the sacred transformation; the high priestess made the sign.
But the Elf Queen alone stared piercingly at one figure at the lake's edge.
A male elf with eyes quietly closed, as if in deep slumber.
"My king."
This elf, in hibernation to heal an irremediable wound from the Knight King, was their progenitor—the living divinity, the Immortal King.
With this elixir sacrificed today, the Elf Queen—who had labored for the Immortal King's revival—closed her eyes with ecstatic joy.
The new era was near. When it dawned, a world for her and the elves alone would unfold.