The Defense of Roholan (1)
Parents rotting in the grip of drug addiction sold their own children for six gold coins.
The noble who bought the siblings coveted the body of a girl not yet fifteen.
And so the boy took the girl by the hand and fled.
They walked barefoot across a world frozen solid.
They pressed forward naked through a merciless winter.
Once the boy stepped out into the world, he stole freedom for the first time—for her sake.
He stole warmth.
He stole fullness.
He stole hope.
And every time he did, the girl smiled.
Even knowing none of it was theirs.
Even sensing that every scrap had once belonged to someone else.
Because she knew what efforts the boy had made, what sacrifices he had paid, she could not help but smile.
So the siblings secretly savored the happiness they had stolen—the happiness that should have been theirs from the start.
But even that did not last long.
Their former master crushed their freedom.
The master of warmth forced the cold upon them.
The master of fullness made them vomit up everything they had taken.
The master of hope shoved despair down their throats.
The world stripped the siblings of everything.
Yet the boy did not break.
To keep his only family alive, he pushed forward again.
Once more he stole warmth, fullness, and hope.
He fled the world and hid among the magic beasts.
The boy covered himself in beast hides.
The girl covered herself in warmth.
The boy tore at the carcasses the beasts had left half-eaten.
The girl bit into bread that was cold, yet fragrant.
The boy gulped down filth.
The girl drank clear water.
With every passing day the boy’s despair grew deeper.
With every passing day the girl lost a little more hope.
Still the siblings smiled.
Because the boy wanted to show the girl light.
Because the girl wanted to give the boy a dream.
Because they wanted to cradle a hope that belonged to them alone.
They smiled without end.
And so the two siblings passed through the biting winter into a gentle spring, and arrived at Hablon Village, ringed by towering walls.
There they found new hope—happiness that was wholly their own.
The village welcomed them.
It washed the beast blood from their skin.
It treated their wounds.
It offered honest work, warm meals, soft beds, and a foothold for the road ahead.
Because the villagers had little, they could share.
Because the siblings had nothing, they could receive.
The siblings were grateful simply to enjoy the things every person ought to enjoy.
They were happy that they no longer had to steal, that they could finally savor happiness that was truly theirs.
Warm spring passed, their foundation settled, and winter returned once more.
Then the boy grew ambitious.
Watching the adventurers who hunted the beasts around the village, he made up his mind.
He wanted power.
He studied the adventurers’ movements, their techniques, their temperaments, their speech—everything—over their shoulders.
Clumsily, yet diligently.
Terrified and in pain, yet steadfastly.
He endured and endured, until the boy—
until Luci—became an adventurer.
He gained the strength he had longed for.
The strength to protect his little sister, Lux.
The venom he had honed for survival became talent.
That talent became light, illuminating Luci’s path.
Following that light, Luci, at the age of twenty-one, had become an unmatched genius who reached Gold rank in a mere three years.
The siblings no longer suffered.
They believed they would never again feel that merciless cold.
They believed they would never again have to seek out the nauseating meat of beasts, the hides, the filth.
Then, one day, a stranger arrived in their peaceful village.
Because the newcomer looked so much like their former selves, they reached out a helping hand—just as the village once had for them.
They offered the stranger warm food, a soft bed, and honest work.
And that very night, a noble and a dozen knights came to the village.
Claiming they sought a thief who had stolen their property, they stepped inside the walls.
In that instant a strange horn blared, and calamity descended upon Hablon.
“Judging by that look on your face, you haven’t forgotten completely.”
“Y-you crazy—!”
The man yanked a dagger from his sleeve and hurled it at Luci.
Luci casually swatted the flying blade aside.
“Your little tricks have improved. First we should do something about those fidgety feet of yours.”
Luci’s sword flashed.
“Gyaaaaah—!”
The man’s right ankle was severed clean through.
“Keep thrashing and I can’t aim properly. I’ve only got one eye left, thanks to someone.”
The blade swept again.
“Y-you crazy bastard… kuh… ghk…”
The man’s left leg was cut away, and he collapsed where he stood.
“Dying now would be inconvenient. I still haven’t heard your reasons.”
Luci stepped up to the fallen man, pulled a potion from his pocket, and poured it over the stumps. The skin that had been gushing blood sealed over in moments.
“You won’t die now. So—why did you do it back then? Let’s hear it.”
Crouching in front of the man, Luci drove his sword through the man’s left hand.
The man convulsed in agony; the horn that had been clutched in his grip clattered to the ground.
“Fuck! You crazy son of a bitch! Fuck, fuuuck!”
The man’s screams rang through Roholan.
People began to emerge one by one to watch.
The village’s adventurers.
The guard.
All of them simply stood there, doing nothing.
I couldn’t understand it.
Heinzel was standing right beside Luci—why wasn’t he stopping him?
And why was Rubia blocking my path?
“Rubia… what on earth… is this? Why are you just standing there? Why isn’t anyone—”
“Noah. I don’t know if a priestess should say this, but… right now, I think it’s best we stay still.”
“What…? What do you mean? That man right now—”
“In the ruins, the day you fell asleep, Luci told me the truth of the massacre.”
Rubia cut me off in a voice gone utterly cold.
“Hablon Village fell not because of the noble, but because of the gnolls.”
“Gnolls…?”
I remembered the towering walls of Hablon I had seen in the ruins—the walls that had collapsed while pouring blood from every stone.
“Th-that doesn’t make sense. How could gnolls bring down those walls? They couldn’t even get inside… And what does that man have to do with gnolls—?”
“They say a thief who had slipped into the village opened the gate while fleeing from the noble… The moment the gate opened, the gnoll leader blew a horn and the pack poured in… The blood of the dying people woke Carpeng—”
“The man opened the gate… and the gnolls flooded in…?”
If the man had opened the gate and the gnolls had come… then Heinzel’s and Rubia’s silence made sense.
But something still felt wrong.
Rubia’s explanation didn’t line up with the knowledge I carried.
Thousands of gnolls couldn’t gather in one place.
Especially not at a single village gate…
It was impossible.
Even if the game and reality differed, those rabid dogs could never wait that long—they couldn’t stand being hungry.
I widened my Qi Sensing and focused on Luci and the man.
Luci was still speaking with him.
And the man—
was quietly stretching a hand toward the horn lying beside him.
A horn…?
“Ru…bia… you said a horn sounded when the gnolls came in, right…?”
“Yes. Luci said that sound, at least, he could never forget—”
A horn… a trumpet… monsters swarming…
“The Horn of Frenzy…! Oh, hell—!”
I spun on my heel, ripped my greatsword free, and sprinted toward the man, shouting at the top of my lungs.
“Uncle Luci! The horn! Don’t let him blow it!”
Hearing me, the man yanked another dagger from his sleeve and slashed at Luci.
Luci swept his arm and knocked the blade aside.
In that same instant the man jammed the horn to his lips.
But before he could blow—
“Ah-ah.”
“Gyaaaaaaaah!!!”
Luci seized the man’s jaw and ripped it clean off.
The mouth that had been torn open with a wet crack could no longer play any horn; the man could only scream in raw agony.
Ignoring the shrieks, Luci looked at me and murmured quietly,
“Noah. Do you know what this is?”
“Y-yes… If you blow that horn… every monster nearby comes running. Hablon in the past… was probably because of this…”
The Horn of Frenzy.
An item that pulled the aggro of every magic beast in the area to a single point.
The gathering effect was outstanding, but it also drove the beasts into a frenzied state that made them far stronger.
That was why parties of six or more usually used it.
I never had any friends, so I’d never needed it…
“Is that so… So this was the thing he stole from the noble…”
Luci’s gaze fell on the horn.
“Hablon fell… because of this worthless old pipe…”
His sword rose slowly.
“Right… I’ve heard enough from you.”
The blade began its downward arc—
and the man, screaming, jammed the horn straight down his own throat.
With a thick, wet crunch the horn lodged in his gullet and let out a blast like the sky itself splitting open—
just as Luci’s sword shattered it to pieces.
And far away—
from the ruins we had crossed,
from the plains that lay ahead—
the howls of magic beasts rose in a single rolling wave.
Heinzel and Rubia rushed over.
“Just now—what was that sound, Noah…?”
“Luci, little one. What the hell just happened?”
I ignored them both and flung my Qi Sensing wide—past Roholan, all the way to the ruins and the plains.
Blood burst from me without fail.
My skull felt ready to crack open; every vessel in my body swelled as if it would rupture.
I downed the potion I kept in my pocket and pushed the sensing even farther.
“Noah! What are you doing?! Blood—you’re bleeding—!”
The endlessly expanding Qi Sensing slammed to a halt.
The magic beasts charging toward Roholan painted themselves inside my mind.
Painted.
And painted.
And painted.
And painted.
And painted.
And painted.
Endlessly.
Without pause.
They filled my head.
I couldn’t count them.
I couldn’t even estimate the number.
At the very least, thousands.
No—tens of thousands of magic beasts were pouring toward Roholan.
Time remaining: roughly fifteen minutes.
If even thirty percent of the villagers died, Carpeng would awaken in the ruins.
I had to stop them.
Somehow—I had to stop them.