Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 44
Chapter Title: White Wind
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"H-Hello."
Prurruk!
Snow-Covered gave a shy greeting.
The leader of the White-Horned Deer herd, which had approached right up to them, let out a quiet snort.
Its horns protruded like massive dead tree trunks, covered in countless scars that bore witness to a brutal life.
The creature we hadn't seen in ages had returned to us in its eternally awe-inspiring form.
But unlike our first encounter, the leader showed no hostility toward us—nor did it gaze at us indifferently, like mere insects.
That was because, while Snow-Covered and I had been away, it had come to recognize Northplomb territory as a neighbor... and a friend in need.
I addressed the leader directly.
"You sent them, didn't you? Those friends of yours."
The Village Chief had told me that when the villagers were suffering from wild bears for quite some time, thirty White-Horned Deer had appeared at the village gates.
Unlike before, they hadn't shied away from human touch or fled in panic. Their demeanor had seemed friendly and reassuring, as if they were comrades come to lend a hand.
And so began the rebirth of the Northern Cavalry, forged in the fires of that joint bear hunt.
Already, more than thirty deer were grazing freely near the village.
They weren't domesticated livestock.
They were steadfast friends who answered any call—and battle comrades who would stand with us on the field.
Prurruk!
In response to my question, the leader gave a small snort, as if to say, Why even ask such an obvious thing?
Then it raised its head high, surveying the deer roaming freely around the village.
It must have descended from the great plains for a moment, worried about its long-separated kin.
Its ears twitched as it focused intently.
Snow-Covered and I exchanged warm smiles and stepped back to give it space.
Clack, clack, clack.
"Hm?"
But rather than rejoining its kin, the leader followed us as we turned back toward the territory.
Its eyes were utterly nonchalant, as if this had been its intention all along.
"Ah!"
The leader extended its moist, soft nose, sniffing at Snow-Covered's scent.
Entranced by the plush, doughy texture—like freshly baked bread—Snow-Covered tentatively reached out a hand.
"Wow..."
She touched its nose, then its face, then its horns.
Far from shying away, the leader closed its eyes in contentment, savoring the gentle caresses.
A tiny child and a massive deer.
The scene was like a masterpiece painting, capturing a tale from legend.
Clack.
"Huh?"
But as they shared that tender moment, the leader did something unexpected.
It gently bent its forelegs to the ground, bowing its head and face in a gesture of profound respect.
The meaning was crystal clear.
Just as it had permitted its kin to bear human friends on their backs—noble backs that no one else had ever mounted—it was now granting that honor to Snow-Covered.
Like a king recognizing another king, it had identified a comrade to charge across battlefields together.
Snow-Covered hesitated for a split second but soon showed her respect by climbing onto the leader's vast back.
Clack, clack.
Prurruk!
As Snow-Covered carefully settled into position, the leader blew a hearty snort.
Then it slowly straightened its legs, rising like a mountain.
A pristine white deer with a pitch-black Snow-Covered atop it.
It looked just like a snowball with a single black bean perched on top.
I called out to her.
"How does it feel?"
"Great!"
This one was twice the size of the other White-Horned Deer.
For tiny Snow-Covered, it must have felt like soaring through the sky.
And the leader didn't seem displeased either—its thick ears flapped happily over and over.
Prurruk!
I'd been worried about the countless battlefields ahead... but with this one around, I could rest easy.
It would surely keep Snow-Covered safe, even in the thick of chaotic melee.
"We should give you a name."
"A name?"
"Yeah. A proper name."
We couldn't keep calling such a precious friend "leader" or "it" forever.
To share many more days together, it needed a Northern name like ours.
Deeming my suggestion reasonable, Snow-Covered mulled it over, her lips pursing in thought.
The tactless leader snorted our way, as if annoyed at us bothering its friend.
It was practically saying:
'Do a good job.'
'You do a good job.'
No free rides here.
I clicked my tongue softly and shot the creature a reproachful glare for already doting on its new pal.
While we waged our wordless battle of wills, Snow-Covered finally decided on a name after much deliberation.
"White Wind... How about White Wind?"
I still remember it vividly.
The majestic sight of the White-Horned Deer herd thundering across vast plains and forests.
It resembled a blizzard sweeping through the North—with a beautiful white wind leading the charge at the forefront.
Lick.
Having named it, Snow-Covered stroked the leader's black nose to seek approval.
White Wind gave her small hand a delighted lick, clearly pleased with the choice.
The North's late autumn is fleeting.
Once the harvest ends, pitch-black rain clouds blanket the sky in an instant, and the breezes from the mountains sharpen to knife's edge.
Winter was approaching once more.
Villagers opening their windows to the dawn air felt the bite of early winter closing in.
Yet Northplomb territory brimmed with fervent heat, putting the cold to shame.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Harder! More!
The village forge run by Red Iron had kept its fires roaring nonstop for two full weeks now.
Numerous smiths had been mobilized to churn out weapons for the soldiers.
Red Iron proudly engraved his signature anvil emblem onto the blades, sweat beading on his brow.
The high-quality arms he and his team produced were distributed fairly, without regard to troop type.
Armor went without saying.
Soldiers received thick leather breastplates to weather the harsh battlefield cold, along with fur-lined helmets for warmth.
'Th-this is ours?'
'It's not quilted rags!'
The soldiers could scarcely believe it at first.
Militia, not elites, usually got equipment for show only.
But Lord Snow-Covered supplied top-tier weapons and armor equally to soldiers and officers alike.
This was all thanks to the hunters who donated hides without asking a penny—and the soldiers' mothers who sewed through the night.
Unified uniforms and superb weaponry.
With the villagers watching their backs, it was more than enough to kindle a sense of duty.
We weren't war fodder.
We were brothers. Comrades.
And so, in that late autumn when all united in hope of Northern unification, Northplomb completed its preparations for the unification war.
But with organization and supplies squared away, one crucial decision remained.
The banner emblem—symbol of our territory, destined to fly high amid the battles ahead.
Red Iron cried out urgently.
"We have to decide now! Even starting production tomorrow will be tight!"
A banner's emblem represented kingdoms, houses, and territories at large.
It had to pack profound meaning—evoke its intent at a glance.
What symbols could truly embody Northplomb territory?
After much deliberation, the leadership began tossing out ideas haphazardly.
"A wolf, obviously?"
"What about a rose? So refined."
"...Hehe, a rabbit would be cute."
Ideas thick with personal bias.
But none suited our territory—and their meanings rang hollow.
It needed to convey a powerful message for the North reborn.
I sat quietly, observing the boisterous debate.
"Uncle Iron."
"Hm?"
The table was littered with sample emblems Red Iron had brought.
Snow-Covered picked one up absentmindedly and asked him about it.
"What's this one?"
All eyes turned.
The cloth she held bore an emblem of flames encircling a broken sword.
It had been ages.
Red Iron, who still remembered that banner vividly, answered with a wistful look.
"It's the one Broken Sword used. Must've gotten mixed in."
I still remember it well.
My foolish youth, when I'd drawn a broken sword without a thought—only to face fierce backlash for symbolizing defeat.
But the Knight King didn't forbid it. Instead, he sketched raging flames around the blade.
'There. Perfect now.'
Fierce destruction... and noble rebirth.
Even a sword broken past its use could rise again, wrapped in searing flames.
With a single brushstroke, he quelled the uproar—and taught me the meaning of pride, for a life spent on battlefields.
"I like this one."
The memory I'd thought buried was stirring to life once more.
Chosen, as if by fate, by the king's own successor: Snow-Covered.
Flustered, I stammered.
"...Hold on, that's—"
"I want this one. Let's go with it."
Snow-Covered was always diligent about hearing everyone out and finding consensus.
But when something truly caught her fancy... she wouldn't budge an inch.
Yes—that face.
Stubbornness etched so deep it had hardened like stone. No coaxing, no pleading, no tantrum could sway it.
I let out a sigh and asked.
"This has to convince everyone. If there's a reason, I'd like to hear it."
Today's banner wasn't for one person or house—it would fly over countless armies and territories.
Chosen without cause, its symbolism would ring empty.
If not caprice, we needed a reason the gathered leaders could grasp.
All eyes turned to Snow-Covered, who sat ramrod straight.
"...I saw it. Not just swords... but broken human hearts."
Snow-Covered had agonized over it.
More than her enslavement or gnawing hunger, she hurt for the hopeless, suffering people.
No reason to live was like a warrior stripped of weapons. No dreams, like firing an arrow without a point.
Born human, eyes opening solely to survive—yet denied that purpose.
In her eyes, every soul bore a broken heart in a shattered world.
"I want to mend those hearts. Like a sword reborn in flames alone."
Everyone fell silent.
Not from any flimsiness in her words—but their profound depth, surpassing any other reason.
"Can't argue with that."
"...Well done. Splendidly done."
Gray Wolf nodded with closed eyes; Red Iron beamed proudly.
Her growing stature and sword arm aside, the child was blossoming into a true king.
"Broken Sword."
"Hm?"
The meeting adjourned; leaders scattered to their duties.
But Gray Wolf didn't head to the barracks. He trailed quietly behind me, face uncertain.
"Lately, Snow-Covered keeps bringing up rabbits whenever she sees me. What's that about? Coincidence?"
"................."
"Craving rabbit meat? Kids' whims are a mystery."
I quickened my pace and fled.