Chapter 31
Chapter 31
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 31
Chapter Title: Black-Haired Knight King
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"It happened right there, I tell you! Oh, it's nothing...! Haha!"
The patrol captain laughed so hard the building seemed ready to shake apart.
And this was already his twenty-first time reenacting the administrator's antics from that day.
One might think such repeated boasting would grow tiresome.
But given the humiliations the patrol team had endured all this time, not a single member complained about him stopping.
Of course, I found it quite embarrassing to flaunt my reputation like that, but seeing them so delighted made it all worthwhile.
After a long stretch of laughter and bonding, it was time to get down to business.
I turned to the patrol captain.
"Will the administrator just sit idly by?"
"If he doesn't want to die, he will. What he's done so far is enough to warrant exile anyway."
"Then the real issue is before the Gray Wolf returns."
The frustrating power struggles within the village had ended more anticlimactically than expected.
But we couldn't celebrate just yet—our intel on the enemy was still woefully inadequate.
All we'd uncovered was proof of an external threat from that single piece of evidence.
No one knew where they were or how large their force might be.
From here on, it would be a fierce battle of intelligence.
We had to locate them before they found Wolf Village.
I made a polite request to the patrol captain, who now seemed brimming with enthusiasm.
"We need to pressure the administrator into sealing the gates. I know it's peak farming season, but for the village's safety, it's unavoidable."
"Don't worry. Even if I have to grab him by the collar, I'll make sure they're shut tight."
"And no closing the outpost or forming separate scout units. Let's move together so we can respond immediately."
Until the Gray Wolf and Snow-Covered returned, every action had to be cautious.
I pictured the vast mountain range in my mind, chasing after that tantalizing yet elusive puzzle.
Orcs—the archenemies who destroyed the kingdom, the nightmare that oppressed and trampled humanity.
I never imagined the day I'd face them would come so soon.
It would be a lie to say I wasn't worried.
I still didn't know if we could win or if I could protect those dear to me.
But that uncertainty and the formidable foe only steeled my resolve.
Perhaps it was that child.
Snow-Covered, who turned iron-hard only when guarding something, had planted a stirring seed in me during our brief time together.
It was change. Awakening.
The sword in my heart, dulled by years of failure, remained unbroken.
I turned my gaze to the sky heavy with war clouds and prayed for Snow-Covered's safe return.
"...For Mother North."
Mother, watch over your son and daughter.
Huff... huff.
Snow-Covered's breaths came ragged.
Her face was slick with sweat, her long hair damp.
Yet she scaled sheer cliffs and thick trees, leaping through steep airspace like a squirrel.
It was early evening, personal time after a grueling training session.
Normally, she'd read her master's letter and unwind from the day's fatigue.
But today's message held no sweet treats or sage advice—just one crucial update.
The harbinger of an orc invasion.
The moment she received the messenger bird, Snow-Covered bolted toward the Gray Wolf.
Thud!
"Hm? Snow-Covered?"
She arrived at the shabby lodging.
Without hesitation, she flung open the door. The Gray Wolf, who was preparing elixirs for his disciples, looked up in surprise.
Snow-Covered was always cautious and polite.
But today, she'd barged in without knocking and cried out urgently.
"Th-there's trouble in the village!"
"What? What's the administrator doing?"
The Gray Wolf stepped away completely from territory duties during training trips.
This one was no different; he'd delegated all village matters to trusted delegates.
But the letter Snow-Covered handed him was from Broken Sword, not the administrator.
A flicker of unease crossed the Gray Wolf's mind as he hurriedly read it.
'Signs of orc invasion detected. Inform Gray Wolf and return to village immediately.'
"- - - - - - - -!!"
No one in the North knew orcs like Broken Sword did.
If he'd spotted traces, it was undoubtedly a prelude to invasion.
Had the orcs pushed north?
Why?
The Gray Wolf's usual calm shattered; his face and mind churned with turmoil.
The weight of the name "orc" hit Northerners harder than most.
Thud!
"Haha, Master! How about a drink tonight? I brought some when I left..."
"Snow-Covered! Pack your things—now!"
"Yes!"
Barley Stalk entered with a bottle, oblivious.
But the Gray Wolf ignored him and barked orders at Snow-Covered, who was already waiting.
Barley Stalk stood flustered with his bottle as Snow-Covered dashed to her room.
The ongoing aura training ended fruitlessly, before bearing fruit.
Crash!
In a flash, the Gray Wolf and Snow-Covered emerged, bags in hand.
They lit torches and charged into the darkening outdoors.
Barley Stalk, still clueless, fumbled his packing and dropped the bottle.
The village... Master's in danger.
"Hey now! If you block us like this, what about this year's harvest?!"
"Aigoo, sir... There are orcs nearby! You'll get yourself killed!"
"Orcs my foot! I've lived my whole life in this backwater and never seen one!"
The village, built by ex-Huskarl captain Gray Wolf, was a perfect fortress.
But hemmed by mountains, farmland was scarce, forcing fields outside the walls.
Farmers' daily routine: out at dawn, back at dusk.
Today, the main gate rang not with work songs, but shouts.
"You brat, Choron! I've known you since you were a babe— is this how you treat me?!"
"I can't help it!"
The patrol captain, after hounding the administrator half a day, secured gate control.
The next dawn, after outpost recall, we restricted access.
Residents predictably revolted.
Seed-planting season made famine fears outweigh distant threats.
"Where's the administrator?! Get him out here!"
"Aigoo, they're shoving!"
"Your captain lives up top, right?! I'll..."
Shouts and scuffles turned the gate chaotic.
But the patrol knew the stakes and worked silently.
I sighed deeply.
"...This'll be tough on the villagers."
"Haha, no sweat. If that's enough to sour relations, we couldn't have lasted this long. They'll understand in time."
I gave a wry smile and another sigh, watching the struggling team.
Necessary work, yet unappreciated—truly painful.
I murmured softly.
"The messenger bird should have arrived safely."
Three days, and the Gray Wolf would return from training.
Hold out till then, and war prep would smooth out.
I gazed at the overcast sky, then turned to inspect fences and arms discreetly.
But heavy armor clanks silenced the din.
Clank, clank, clank, clank.
"Cease this commotion!"
"Ah...!"
Crowded villagers startled.
They recoiled like fleeing from a beast.
Gruff voice, fierce face, menacing aura, sharp axes.
The uproar drew the Huskarls.
But they weren't alone.
A woman with similar vibe approached slowly behind.
The patrol captain muttered, glancing back.
"What's she doing here...?"
"You know her?"
"That's her. Huskarl vice-captain."
Ah, I'd seen the captain and administrator, but this was my first Huskarl vice-captain.
As he said, the redhead seemed a lazy yet seasoned lioness.
Thud, thud, thud, halt.
Clad in heavy gear, she strode up boldly and stopped before me.
Her fierce eyes scanned me top to bottom.
Intimidation? No, checking something.
I met her gaze steadily, noting her striking tear mole.
Her eyes lingered last on my sword,
confirmed the engraving, and a faint smile formed.
"The administrator was wrong after all. Only one smith makes swords with that crest."
Not all Northern Kingdom veterans knew my face.
But any ex-soldier recognized Red Iron's symbol, the 'Anvil Crest,' on kingdom arms.
"...Red Iron?"
"Forgive my late courtesy. Blue Hand, returned to the village today. An honor, Broken Sword."
This woman—an original Northern Army Huskarl.
Stunned, I blurted,
"Did you fight under the Gray Wolf?"
"I was the rookie then. When the superiors died, I became senior."
Most Huskarls I'd met were Gray Wolf's trainees from village founding.
I hadn't expected a 'real' one among them.
Like me wandering North, she'd circled back to old comrades.
Overjoyed, I instinctively offered my right hand.
Thump.
She gripped it firmly, slamming shoulders in Northern Army camaraderie.
"To see a legend before I die."
"Haha!"
Gray Wolf, you rascal.
If you had old comrades besides yourself, at least introduce them before vanishing.
I cursed absent Gray Wolf while shaking Blue Hand's hand.
The watching patrol captain asked incredulously,
"You two know each other? Then why not visit last week?"
"That administrator reassigned my duties and deliberately buried the reports. Just learned today upon return."
"...He really planned to go all the way. What'll happen when the lord finds out."
Before our messenger clash, the administrator had tried separating me from Huskarl vice-captain Blue Hand.
But fate's twist buried him deeper—no excuses left.
Thanks to Gray Wolf's negligence? Or that same oversight unearthed the rot.
I followed the patrol captain's hollow laugh, eyeing the gate.
"- - - - - - - -."
The noisy gate quieted under Huskarls' influence.
As villagers dispersed, Blue Hand broached the point.
"Heard orcs are coming."
"Mm, Gray Wolf returns soon..."
"Waiting's too late. We'll help—Huskarls too. Just give orders."
Usurping command without authority challenged the lord directly.
That's why I'd avoided mobilizing his direct Huskarls.
But with Blue Hand volunteering, it changed.
Deploying combat-ready Huskarls meant handling scouts, fights—even skirmishes.
The tangled knot of misfortune began unraveling.