Chapter 78
Chapter 78
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Translator: Ryuma
Chapter: 78
Chapter Title: Advance on the White Gate
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The joining of Black Arrow and the exiles was like a timely rain quenching the thirst of the Northern Kingdom, starved for reinforcements.
Black Arrow, already rated on par with the Gray Wolves in her youth, and the exiles—each one an elite ranger—formed a force that no amount of training alone could produce.
Moreover, the coastal fortress, worn down by the elves' relentless provocations, had finally gained proper interception vessels: ships.
Of course, those vessels consisted solely of two captured ships, including a swift boat, but having ships at all made a world of difference.
At the very least, it gave the Northern Army, which had been helplessly on the defensive, a real chance to strike back—and that was enough to ignite their fighting spirit.
However, there was an urgent problem that prevented them from simply rejoicing at the arrival of these heroes.
The fateful Gate War, upon which the Northern Kingdom's destiny hung, was nearly upon them.
"For Mother North."
Snow-Covered, clad in her white armor, personally raised Black Arrow, who knelt on one knee before her, and sought her understanding.
"I'm truly sorry to burden you with a mission right upon your arrival. When we win this war, let's all raise a toast together."
Black Arrow still remembered how flustered she'd been at her first meeting with Snow-Covered in the palace.
The queen had hair, demeanor, spirit, and even features eerily similar to the Sword Saint in his youth.
She hadn't gotten married! So why did she have a daughter?!
Forgetting the very fact that she was in the presence of royalty, Black Arrow had broken down in tears like a child.
But the misunderstanding cleared up quickly, and soon she became as meek as a lamb before the new Knight King, Snow-Covered.
A single phrase—"Broken Sword's most cherished disciple, whom he raised like his own daughter"—was all it took.
Black Arrow, who knew better than anyone the sweat and toil a man poured into his efforts, recognized Snow-Covered as the sovereign she would serve.
You've finally succeeded, Sword Saint.
Black Arrow replied with a faint smile.
"...Leave the rear to me, Your Majesty."
"Yes, I trust you completely."
With Black Arrow guarding the coast, the elves' invasions were no longer a threat.
The North could now concentrate all its forces on the Gate, and on the promised date, it assembled its army.
Whoosh.
Snow-Covered drew a deep breath.
Then, passing Black Arrow, who bowed her head, she stepped toward the shimmering light at the terrace's edge.
The little girl was gone now.
Her ever-present master was absent.
Today, there was only the queen—the great Knight King who united all Northerners.
And as she reached that end,
the glare vanished as if by magic.
Step, step, step.
Halt!
"Your Majesty!"
"May you live ten thousand years!"
"Your Majesty!"
"May your glory endure forever!"
Before the palace overlooking the capital stood all the generals, ministers, and the Northern Army.
They raised their swords and spears high, eager to follow their Knight King into battle.
Rooooar—!
The army's morale pierced the heavens.
Their fervor burned hot enough to melt all eyes, their passion thick as the snowdrifts.
Thud! Thud! Thud! Thud!
The previous king had planted the seeds, the Sword Saint had kindled the flame.
Winter had passed, spring had come—now it was her turn to bloom the flower beneath the sky.
Ember to blaze.
Drawing her royal sword, Snow-Covered commanded all who looked up to her.
"March out."
Defense turned to offense.
Years after the Knight King's death, the North finally thrust its blade toward the central continent.
Now was the time to charge like the horn of a rhinoceros.
"Sir, are you alright?"
Rough Oats shook my shoulder roughly.
He seemed worried about what had befallen me, given my inability to focus on the mission since yesterday.
I'd been lost too deep in thought at this critical moment.
I waved him off, assuring him I was fine, and refocused on the situation at hand.
"...I'm fine. Where were we?"
"This is the latest report we received."
"So they've spotted the main force."
All paths to the Gate were sealed.
Scouts roamed the rear constantly, and the White Gate burned with light even at midnight.
What did that mean?
The Northern Army had marched from the capital and reached the vicinity of the White Gate.
Yet the orcs defending the Gate showed no panic, methodically assembling their forces to meet the Northern Army.
They displayed the Orc Empire's might in a league far beyond the third-rate troops we'd faced before.
If we'd charged headlong without a plan, could we have retaken the Gate unscathed?
Even viewing the situation optimistically, impossibility was the only conclusion.
In the end, it all came down to us.
Reaffirming the mission's gravity, my squad and I solemnly welcomed the final day as it arrived.
"Divide the bolts into tens."
"Is there enough oil?"
"Sharpen my blade again."
We split into two teams, as before.
Team 1 would infiltrate the rear as planned, drawing the enemy's eyes with fire and smoke.
Team 2 would slip inside the Gate to release the mechanisms holding the gates.
"Make the biggest blaze you can so we can spot you from anywhere. And when the siege begins, don't even think about regrouping—just run."
"Just us?"
"We'll infiltrate the Gate's center while their attention's split. Once the main gate opens, we'll link up with the Northern Army, so don't worry."
Naturally, I'd lead the Gate team.
For such a perilous mission, with unknown foes lurking, I was the only fitting leader.
Weapons distributed, all that remained was to disperse to our positions.
As if by cue, I gave my squad one final charge as they gazed at me.
"If any of you head to your mothers' sides first, I won't hold it against you. Let's meet again beneath the fields of pure white wheat."
What could a mere human, not fated to live even a century, leave in the annals of eternal history?
If this one day could alter our destined fate, I'd stake my life to etch immortality.
All for the queen and her heirs.
The resolute forty turned as one, melting into the pitch-black darkness.
Rustle, rustle, rustle, rustle.
"Wait."
But I slowed my pace so the others wouldn't notice, then grabbed Richard and Ronald, assigned to the rear infiltration team.
"If the plan goes awry, flee east with Richard. I've already told the other brothers—they'll buy you time."
"What are you saying? We're squadmates, aren't we? We'll all make it together...!"
"I'll be counting on you."
Richard would one day become the king of the east, leading the Steel Alliance.
Regardless of the mission's importance, I couldn't let him die pointlessly here.
"Go."
I pushed Ronald's back with a tone that brooked no reply.
Then, following the squad who'd gone ahead, I looked up at the dark sky.
The moon was especially dim tonight.
But as always, an orange band would streak the horizon, and dawn would illuminate the world.
The queen's army approaches.
I cast aside my fear gladly and hurled myself toward the pitch-black fate ahead.
Rustle, rustle, rustle, rustle!
A band of about twenty burst from the darkness in an instant, vaulting over the high palisade.
Their movements were so stealthy and swift that even the patrolling sentries failed to notice.
The hour was dawn, one hour until daybreak.
Team 1 infiltrated right on schedule and melted back into the shadows.
The rear defenses were tighter than expected.
If the very rearmost was this secure, how formidable would the Gate's guards be?
For Team 2 to infiltrate even a little more easily, Team 1 had to execute flawlessly.
Rough Oats, breathing heavily, quietly pulled a cloth from his bosom.
'Nine targets in total.'
Through perilous scouts and Ronald's memories, they'd mapped every major supply depot.
Setting them all ablaze would crack even the sturdiest Gate defenses.
Rough Oats wet his dry lips.
With a hand signal, he led his tense squad to the first depot.
Chirrrrp—.
The moon had vanished; darkness reigned thick.
To muffle their steps, they went barefoot, feeling damp earth beneath.
One step, another, and yet one more.
The squad advanced, narrowly dodging vigilant sentries.
Gulp.
True to a military hub upholding the Gate, buildings and cargo crammed every corner.
The deeper they went, the more it felt like entering an ant nest with no visible exit.
The suffocating pressure wasn't imagination.
Responsibility crushed their shoulders; humid air bound their arms like chains.
Would something lunge from the dark?
Glancing at the blurring scenery, the squad confirmed their progress.
Ten minutes passed like an hour. Then, Rough Oats at the lead signaled: load crossbows—an attack order.
Horse voices echoed nearby—the orc sentries guarding their first target depot.
"Are those guys still at it?"
"Not moving an inch. Think the commanders are insane? Do they have rotting rations to spare?"
The main force's arrival was confirmed.
Any lingering fear in their hearts vanished; the squad loaded crossbows in unison, aiming at the orcs.
Click.
Targets: two at the front gate, two at the rear patrol.
Rough Oats assigned precisely, mimicking a cricket's chirp.
Chirrrp.
Thwip! Thunk! Thwip!
Perfect headshots all around.
The flawless ambush born of trust complete, the squad slung their crossbows and dashed to the depot.
Slash!
Aura-clad blade severed the lock.
The heavy door swung open, assaulting noses with rancid lubricant stench.
Weapons depot—jackpot.
They dropped their packs, doused the area with oil, set delayed candles to ignite the floor.
No time to dawdle.
Eight more to go—they hustled to secure the rest.
They hid the slain orcs' bodies.
Shouldered packs anew, they threw themselves into the blaze prep.
Thwip!
Sizzle, hiss!
Kill sentry, douse oil, set candle—the cycle repeated.
Like a single machine, the squad synchronized perfectly, steadily priming the fires.
Thirty minutes later, faint dawn tinged the distant horizon.
Fortunately undetected, they'd left only the largest depot.
'One left.'
Rough Oats rallied his weary squad toward the deepest mega-depot.
Or tried to.
But ear-splitting alarms shattered the air as torches flared everywhere.
Dong-dong-dong-dong-dong!
Intruders! The enemy has infiltrated!
Dread washed over the squad's faces.
Of all times, caught just before the crucial final depot.
Flee? No—retreating now would render all prior efforts futile.
Gritting teeth, Rough Oats and the squad charged not for escape, but their last objective.