Chapter 61
Chapter 61
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 61
Chapter Title: Charge on Snow Garden
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Gulp.
The forest, where snow-blanketed trees grew thick and dark, provided perfect cover for the White-Horned Deer and the cavalry.
The riders, who had been waiting in position for over two hours now, eyed the firmly shut main gate, hoping it would finally creak open.
'He'll send the signal.'
In truth, they thought it was madness.
To single-handedly open that impenetrable gate, which hadn't fallen for years! Even for the Sword Saint, there were limits to what a human could do.
Would the mission fail outright, and all they'd hear was news of Broken Sword's demise?
The cavalry waited anxiously, stealing glances at the king and knights all the while.
"Mm, back then you made plenty of lame jokes too. It was quite the ordeal playing along."
"Heh heh, that's on you, Master."
But the king and knights carried on regardless, perfectly disguised and quietly swapping trivial old tales.
Don't their hands shake at all?
The riders, crouched beside their deer, licked their lips nervously and let out sighs.
Drip.
"- - - - - -?"
But in that instant, the murmured conversation cut off, and silence fell.
Snow-Covered and the knight, who had been lying still until moments ago, rose to their feet.
The air shifted palpably, like a held breath released.
They gripped their swords as if they'd been waiting for this.
A single plume of black smoke rose from the all-white city and walls.
Snow-Covered swiftly mounted her saddle.
The knights leaped onto their deer in response, and the well-trained cavalry hurried to do the same.
The signal had come for real.
And the king and knights seized their reins as if this outcome was only natural.
The Sword Saint had said it would happen, so it would.
Between them flowed an unshakeable trust beyond the grasp of mere mortals.
Snow-Covered spoke up.
"I'll take the lead."
She was no longer the heir in need of protection.
Snow-Covered drew her sword boldly, mounted the white wind, and spurred her deer forward.
The knights followed suit without hesitation, and the prepared cavalry burst from the forest in scattered groups, swiftly forming ranks.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud - - - -!!
A point becomes a line, a line becomes a column.
The white deer charging from the white forest scattered lightly, then clustered heavily.
No enemy flute signals rang out.
No orc archers drew bows atop the walls anywhere.
Black smoke billowed high into the sky.
The gate remained shut.
Only mighty Snow Garden loomed like a mountain, glaring down at them with fearsome eyes.
Thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud thud - - - -!
But the formation didn't falter.
At the vanguard, Snow-Covered accelerated without a moment's pause, whipping her reins as if to slam the entire force into the gate.
'We absolutely cannot stop.'
Snow-Covered recalled her master's words.
She glared straight at Snow Garden gazing down upon her, channeling her energy.
It was a steadfast pillar of resolve, a flame devouring the heap called fate.
Snow-Covered cried out.
"For Mother North!"
Rumble rumble rumble - - - -!!
The massive gate began to open.
The oppressive pressure on their shoulders vanished like a lie, and the signs of change rippled only along the wind led by the white deer.
Swish.
Snow-Covered dipped her head slightly.
The gate, not yet fully raised, narrowly cleared just above her.
A shiver raced through her.
Raising her head again, Snow-Covered took in a vista entirely new.
Snow Garden.
It was the moment a new king entered the heart and destiny of the North.
Sniff sniff.
A metallic tang of blood wafted in.
The Sword Saint who opened the gate had apparently already cut down several orcs alongside the banner.
But far down the street, a horde of orcs awaiting death came rushing in haste.
"Raise!"
Northern Cavalry, raise your lances!
The knights and riders thrust their spears forward as one, and the white wind roared fiercely as if urging its brothers on.
Neigh!
Thud thud thud thud thud thud - - - !!
Cavalry charge piercing the enemy's heart!
The orcs, who hadn't dreamed of such a death, paled and froze in place.
How could anyone block that charge?
They had neither means to counter nor courage to flee.
Bam! Crunch!
The orc reinforcements racing for the gate collided with the oncoming cavalry and split apart.
Blood and flesh staining the deer’s white fur were the only testament to the clash.
Capital recaptured.
Atop the snow-mantled pristine walls fluttered the Northern Kingdom’s banner.
Bam! Bam!
Crunch! Thud!
White snow, blood, flesh, entrails, screams.
All tangled in one spot, embodying a horrific war beyond recognition.
Miserable, utterly miserable.
The ground was more corpse than earth, frozen blood unscrubbed.
Yet humans fighting to survive raised shields without retreat.
For they were free folk yearning for liberty, not pigs awaiting slaughter.
We will not live as slaves.
We will die as men.
An elderly orc chieftain, aghast at the sight, muttered unwittingly.
"......Ruthless."
The orcs had fought countless wars.
They had slain and subjugated innumerous kin, elves, and humans.
But such desperate resistance was unprecedented.
The Northern forces, having burned their own retreat, differed fundamentally from foes past.
If veteran chieftains reeled, what of the young axe-wielders?
The glory and honor once boiling in their chests had long faded.
Only revulsion clung like congealed grease.
Another orc warrior grasped war's essence and became another corpse atop corpses.
Slash!
Aura rippled over the greatsword.
The Gray Wolf, trampling his own kills, roared like a beast unleashed.
"Raaargh - - - -!!!"
Half a day since battle joined.
Yet orcs pressed the Northern forces without respite.
Aaagh!
My arm! My arm!!
The circle's center brimmed with wounded.
No rotations for exhausted troops, casualties mounting still.
Orc warriors exploiting gaps, arrows raining like downpour.
If hell existed, it was this battlefield's midst, forged of winter and gore.
And as the endless climax neared its end, a desperate cry echoed not far from Gray Wolf.
"Second squad! Second squad's breached!"
They'd held the circle with reserves prepared.
But fatigue accumulated inescapably, one unit cracking at last.
A desperate bind without their sole counter—the deer cavalry.
Whipping his head around, a orc horde slipped through the gap into view.
Instinct hurled Gray Wolf forward.
Boom!
Slash!
His vanished form rocketed back like a cannonball.
The greatsword, wielding speed and power in tandem, cleaved the orc mob in half.
Orcs seizing the chance died screaming not.
Gray Wolf showed exactly who led the North's Huskarls.
"- - - - - -."
And Ogmar sighed ruefully, calmly surveying the war.
From battle's start, his doubts and hunches solidified to certainty.
'No enemy cavalry or Sword Saint?'
Ogmar knew the deer cavalry's might better than any.
Thus he'd husbanded his own horse troops cautiously, preserving strength.
Yet no foe horse appeared even as one flank teetered.
What ploy was this?
Ever cautious, Ogmar struggled to decide.
Then chieftains rushed pleading.
"Governor Ogmar! Sunset nears! Decide now!"
Those dying in the mire were their camp's tribesmen.
Losses already brought tears of blood, yet Northern lines held—no fall, only encroaching dark heralding cold.
Ogmar ground his teeth.
The Sword Saint surely hid some unforeseen twist, yet these chieftains fretted over their troops.
Damn, couldn't ignore outright.
Ogmar reluctantly singled out the rampaging lone Gray Wolf afar.
"Chieftains, send sergeants to pin Gray Wolf. I'll swing around and hit elsewhere!"
"Understood, Governor!"
"Adjutant! Scout surroundings again—confirm no ambushing cavalry!"
"Yes, sir!"
The tireless Gray Wolf bore much Northern reliance now.
But even the finest couldn't block two fronts single-handed.
Ogmar committed, swiftly mustering waiting horse troops.
The climaxing battlefield tinted orange with twilight.
"Charge!"
"Seize him!"
Comprehending, chieftains unleashed valiant sergeant packs at once.
Gray Wolf met them eagerly, aura drawn.
"Cavalry, follow! Hya!"
Now's the chance!
To pierce the foe heart, Ogmar wheeled horse around the circle.
And spurred full tilt toward the direction he'd eyed.
Clop clop clop clop!
Human reserves withdrawing timely from support left a small void.
Perfectly exploiting, Ogmar ordered his cavalry charge.
"Charge! Annihilate the enemy!"
Battle-steeds pounded hooves in frenzy.
Chanting riders leveled keen lances toward the lines.
A Northerner cried desperately.
"C-Cavalry! Cavalry incoming!"
Blue Hand, catching breath and wiping blood, blanched.
The absent orc horse at last charged.
Stakes to halt them mostly crumbled, Gray Wolf unable to aid promptly.
Worse, vanguard was Ogmar himself!
Deadlier than horse charge: his aura and raw destructive might.
His mark—the rearmost archers.
Lips quivering, Blue Hand set aside his bow and drew sword.
"Archers! On my signal, volley at the enemy horse!"
"Captain! Where to?!"
Boom! Crunch!
Aaagh! Gaaah!
Hastily formed shield wall blocked the cavalry front.
But before lead Governor Ogmar, they died defenseless.
Slash!
Whoosh!
Blazing aura like fire, monstrous prowess.
No Northerner dared face mighty Ogmar.
All but one readied for death.
"Ogmarr - - - !!"
Clang!
Sword drawn, Blue Hand launched himself.
Ogmar startled, raised axe to parry and yanked reins to halt.
Skill to rattle the axe.
One of the Northern commanders?
Refining his aura, Ogmar turned to meet Blue Hand barring his path.
"Volley fire!"
But Blue Hand signaled his rear archers without pause.
Ignoring himself in the line of flight, ordering them to loose.
Shoooosh!
Clang clang!
Ogmar recoiled in shock.
Frantically blocking incoming arrows, he tracked the enemy leader.
Time stretched like taffy, vision narrowing.
Blue Hand flew at him, arrows raining on his back.
No guard, no technique—just a strike for life.
"- - - - - - !!"
Clang! Crash!
Ogmar swung his aura axe.
Blue Hand's aura blade shattered outright, a red line slashing his unguarded chest.
Slash!
Blue Hand's heart pierced true.
Ogmar felt a chill at the suicidal assault, then relief.
But Blue Hand hadn't aimed for the axe from the start.
Bypassing blind spot, a keen dagger slipped armor's gap.
Stab!
"Guh!"
Huskarl cunning in dirty tricks, Blue Hand discarded broken sword for dagger.
Trading his life, he inflicted a mortal wound on Ogmar.
Neigh!
Ogmar tumbled from his mount.
No madman would press attack with the supreme commander unhorsed.
"G-Governor!"
Shocked cavalry halted their barrage, converging on Ogmar.
"Saved the Governor! Retreat! Retreat!"
Rescuing Ogmar swiftly, they pulled back; orc infantry assailing the wall followed suit.
Who could've foreseen mighty Ogmar stabbed and unhorsed by a human warrior?
Northerners gawked at panicking orcs, then lowered shields.
What had just happened?
Desperate howls from the rear formation buzzed their ears.
"- - - - - - -."
Chest gashed, Blue Hand knelt in a blood pool with faint smile.
Setting aside his shattered sword, he closed his eyes.
So this was the feeling.
Of death as felt by those gone before.
No pain, no regrets.
Blue Hand, dreaming happy dreams awhile, bowed his head and collapsed.