097. Into the Snowfield
To heroes, demons were like poison to rats.
The Dimensional Interference they wielded existed solely to repel invaders.
A power that served as a hard counter to demons, the primary invaders. That was why demons feared heroes, and why humanity pushed heroes to the front lines against Demon Kings.
Put another way, it meant that Dimensional Interference didn't pack much punch against beings from the same dimension.
That didn't mean a hero's talents vanished, of course. Even without interference, they still boasted superior aptitude and faster growth.
But no one could deny that they lost one major advantage when facing demons.
That was why Pablo Barkat couldn't swiftly end things against Austin Croin—and why the kingdom's forces, getting pushed back relentlessly, received no aid from him.
To be precise, he'd pressed the attack relentlessly but failed to finish it quickly. And in the meantime, his allies had been utterly routed.
"We have to stop them. We must seize back the mines and reclaim what's ours for the alliance."
Pablo Barkat raised his voice to the nobles of the ten nations.
"I saw the mana stone vein with my own two eyes. That's irrefutable fact. They went blind with greed for it and ambushed us! This strikes at the heart of the alliance's dignity!"
"What would Your Highness have us do?"
"Obviously, take it back by force if necessary. How can we overlook intruders on alliance soil siphoning off our resources?"
"Well said!"
Envoys from some nations nodded in agreement. But others wore uneasy expressions.
It was only natural.
Eleven nations had banded together under the banner of the Southern Alliance, but not to birth some grand empire.
Survival. Desperate measures to halt the empire's southward advance and ensure their continued existence—that was the origin.
Most alliance nations craved stability over war. Especially a war where victory was far from guaranteed.
Hesitation was inevitable.
"I know what you're worried about. But letting this slide isn't right."
And Pablo's insistence on war, despite knowing that, was equally inevitable.
It stemmed partly from the humiliations and insults he'd suffered at the empire's hands, but it wasn't mere emotion.
"If that mana stone vein falls into their hands—if they develop the mines and those stones end up with them..."
"It'll make the empire even stronger."
"They'll fatten their bellies on resources stolen from Southern Alliance soil. And that bloated gut will turn into a blade aimed right back at us."
That was the nature of mana stones.
Ores essential to every industry tied to magic.
Natural mana stones far outstripped artificial ones in purity, quality—everything.
A large-scale mana stone mine could sway an entire nation. It made countries prosperous.
"Are you going to stand by and watch? The empire is greedy, always itching to tear into us. Are you saying you're too scared of a war now to avoid annihilation later?"
"And besides!"
"Alliance citizens have fallen to the empire's blades. They shed their blood in vain to that ambush! Who compensates for their deaths?"
"If we don't avenge them, who will fight for the alliance?"
Pablo's veins bulged with fury.
"The Philerium Mountains stand as a natural fortress between the empire and us anyway. They can't drag a massive army all the way to the mines."
Countless monsters would greet them, and more troops would die to those beasts before even facing the enemy.
The empire wouldn't make such a foolish choice.
"We just need to retake and hold the mines. They can't commit large forces either."
It wasn't solely the Philerium issue. The Southern Alliance had only one foe: the empire. But the empire had countless enemies.
"Above all, the empire can't ignore the unrest brewing in the north right now. If we don't act soon, we might never get another shot at reclaiming that vein!"
"Umm..."
They swallowed groans.
Intellectually, they knew the prince was right. But war with the empire wasn't a decision to make lightly.
They couldn't back down, yet defeat seemed more likely than victory.
One noble raised a hand.
"What if the operation fails and the empire launches a full-scale war?"
"Obviously..."
Pablo shouted resolutely.
"We can't retreat. Losing the mana stone mines spells doom for the alliance. But seizing them could overturn our history of cowering before the empire. Whatever the cost, we must claim them."
"Hear, hear!"
"How long are we going to grovel to the empire?!"
"If it's too hard to decide, let's do it the alliance way."
"...Very well."
"In three days, at the kings' banquet, we'll settle it the traditional way."
The kings' banquet was where the eleven alliance monarchs gathered to debate and set the alliance's course.
And it ended with a majority vote.
Three days later. Ten in favor, one against. The operation to retake the mines was greenlit.
"My lord! Help us!"
One message completely derailed Berge's plans to watch the delightful clash between the south and the empire.
"We lost. Gillian Aint lost his right arm, the barbarians suffered massive casualties, and the White Eagle and our forces scattered across the snowfields—everyone's fate uncertain!"
...What the hell is this?
Rumors spread fast.
Berge didn't even stop by the tower, leaving Roger and the elves roughly at the Southern Alliance's outskirts before heading north with Ernan.
After passing through dozens of teleportation circles, the scorching sun gave way to cool winds. That's when the snowfield rumors started trickling into his ears.
"Heard another barbarian tribe got wiped out today."
"Big trouble. That's the fifth one, right?"
"What about the White Eagle? Didn't the Red Hawk join in too?"
"Radio silence. The empire's survey team found traces of a brutal fight but no survivors. At least Hillun Kargil and Gillian Aint's bodies weren't among them..."
"Why are the Demon Kings suddenly acting up? They must've all gone mad..."
"Something's definitely going down."
"Hey, you hear that rumor? Gillian Aint challenged the Frost Demon Tower or something..."
Snowfield talk everywhere. Berge sifted out the most common threads.
The snowfield monsters had suddenly stirred.
The northern tribes fell into crisis from the monster invasions.
The White Eagle and Red Hawk teamed up to protect them.
And vanished.
"There's also suspicion a Demon King got involved."
Ernan whispered quietly.
"I hear it too."
It was a rowdy tavern, buzzing with drifting rumors.
"What'll we do?"
"First, get a clearer picture of what happened."
Does this even make sense?
He couldn't wrap his head around it.
Sure, Reina Sordain was strong. But Hillun Kargil and Gillian Aint were Stars. And Hillun had grown by devouring two Demon Kings already.
He wouldn't have sent Hillun to the snowfields just to fix a bad habit if death was on the table.
'Jason's hand in this?'
Or maybe Reina was stronger than he'd thought.
No clue.
Truth be told, he knew little about Demon Kings.
Pre-regression, he'd had almost no contact. Post-regression, he was just starting to learn.
'Reina Sordain is strong.'
A Demon King Academy graduate who'd endured decades on Alein. Weak? That'd be the real shock.
But unless they stupidly climbed to the tower's peak, they'd never clash with Reina directly.
And the Hillun he knew lusted after honor but wasn't that brainless.
Which made it all the more baffling.
Why had this happened?
Tap tap.
Ernan tapped Berge's shoulder.
"Master."
"What?"
"Merchants just came in saying the imperial army's gearing up to march into the snowfields."
"...!"
"They're talking now."
Berge perked his ears toward where Ernan pointed. Two merchants unloading massive packs.
"...The... north..."
Their voices sharpened amid the noise.
"...The northern army's really heading into the snowfields?"
"That's the word."
"For real? They've ignored it so far."
"There's a limit. Five tribes gone already."
"They're just northern barbarians anyway."
"Barbarians or not, they're imperial subjects. And a necessary evil."
"True. Disgusting lot, but they soften the blow from monsters heading south."
The northern barbarians lived under imperial rule but rejected it. They carved out freedom in the snowfields, guarding their ways—while serving as the empire's first line against invading monsters.
They just wanted to live, but it benefited the empire. So the empire turned a blind eye, keeping the savages fragmented and in check.
"Who's leading?"
"Chernian Border Count himself."
"Lord have mercy."
A new name. Berge asked.
"Chernian Border Count?"
"The border count guarding the imperial north from snowfield monsters. A knight in his fifties, top ten in the empire skill-wise. His personal guard, the White Frost Knights, are called the snowfield's blizzard."
"Got it."
Lately, he'd realized dragging Ernan around was convenient. Like a walking library—answers popped out instantly.
Especially on nobles. Made sense; as royalty, she knew her aristocracy cold.
"If a guy like that's stepping up, maybe I don't need to go? Could just complicate things."
Tangling with imperial regulars rarely ended well.
"Normally, yeah, I'd say that."
"But not now?"
"Hillun's no weakling."
"Damn it, how'd I end up cleaning up after these hero bastards..."
A guy who'd eaten two Demon Kings, reduced to this pathetic state.
It pissed him off, but Hillun couldn't die.
"Still, for both of you to suffer such a crushing defeat... I just don't get it. What happened?"
Fundamentally, Demon King always beat hero. Even so-called Stars hailed by the masses.
Most Demon Kings stuck reasonably to canon, and Reina never left her tower top.
So why the loss?
'They do enter the tower, of course.'
Pre-regression, the White Eagle-Reina war Berge knew was straightforward.
Gather northern tribes, climb the tower. Repeatedly purge the low-floor monsters and beasts.
Eventually, the tower weakened. Magic points were finite; pointless losses drained them.
The Demon King lost the power to repel heroes.
But needing to refill the tower, she squeezed out summons.
Heroes climbed again, hunted easy beasts, grabbed loot.
No peak climb meant no Demon King fight, so damage crept higher.
Vicious cycle. The tower went from terror to hero hunting ground.
But it hinged on one thing.
The Demon King sitting dumbly with no countermeasures.
And hilariously, most did. Canon. Standard.
They never realized they were being whittled down. Too late by the time they did.
Reina had been cornered, then summoned high beasts with Jason's aid to smash them.
But this time was different.
She'd learned their plans via Berge and prepared.
To uncover Hillun and Gillian's failure, he needed her preparations.
'Reina wouldn't leave the tower. So she hit them with subordinates, beasts, monsters...'
He didn't know exact northern tribe numbers, but dozens roughly.
Large ones thousands strong, small hundreds. Not all followed Gillian, but ten tribes meant warriors well over a thousand.
Add White Eagle, Gillian, Red Hawk, Hillun...
'Could they hunt them to annihilation? Even if Reina has the most minions among Demon Kings...'
This was their turf too.
"We'll know once we meet Granada."
"Good thing Granada's safe."
"Yeah."
Granada could contact them because he'd escaped Reina's beasts and survived the snowfields.
Unlike the missing others, he'd fled smartly back to imperial turf.
Granada waited in a fortress city near the snowfields for Berge and Ernan.
"The Red Hawk's different, he said. This time he's outdone himself."
At least in a good way.
Without him, no clear picture.
Berge and Ernan finished eating and pressed north again.
The mood was chaotic from the snowfield unrest.
Days passed. Finally, they reached the northern fortress and met Granada.
"What exactly happened?"
"Right before entering the tower, the doors opened on their own. Demons and beasts poured out, and thousands of monsters swarmed from all sides like they'd been waiting."
"...How many demons?"
Granada's account meant one thing.
'All-in?'
Reina Sordain, of all people?
But the real issue was elsewhere.
"Red Hawk and White Eagle squads have been trickling back the past few days. Barbarians are sheltering with the empire too."
"More survivors than expected?"
"Yes. After a battle like that, way more than you'd think."
Something's off, Granada explained.
But to Berge, it seemed par for the course.
"They went all-out like they meant to finish it, but Reina's still Reina."
Annihilating northern tribes and wiping White Eagle/Red Hawk would just alert the empire and other kingdoms.
Reina craved perfection. Not time to provoke the empire yet—she was avoiding needless slaughter.
Relief washed over him.
"Then Hillun Kargil should return soon."
Berge exhaled in relief.
A bit anticlimactic for the frantic rush, but better that way.
"Well..."
"What else?"
"I asked all the returnees, but no one's seen Hillun."
"Got lost, probably."
"If that's all, great, but..."
Somehow unsettling.
Granada muttered. Berge scowled at the downer vibe.
"Don't sow needless anxiety."
"...Yes."
'...Maybe contact Reina, pretend to check on him?'
Nothing beat hearing it straight from the source.