Chapter 330: The Collapse of Arcadia (5)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 330: The Collapse of Arcadia (5)
Once, a fierce debate had swept through the Luna Kingdom.
Who was faster on the snow: Jairo, the Swordsman of the Snowfields, or Caden, the White Flying Squirrel? Most sided with Caden. However, because Jairo possessed an incredible presence on the snow, some adamantly argued for his victory.
Ultimately, the two settled it with a duel.
It was a ten-kilometer race, and the results left the spectators utterly shocked.
Just as Jairo crossed the halfway mark, Caden blew past the finish line with overwhelming speed. From that day forward, his reputation as the White Flying Squirrel became absolute. People were certain that, at least in the snowbound lands of Arcadia, there was no being among any race who could outpace Caden.
Therefore, Caden simply could not accept the reality unfolding before his eyes.
He was moving at an incredible speed, yet not a single soldier from Dmitry had fallen behind.
'...How on earth?'
It made no sense.
On snow-covered ground, feet naturally sank. The heavier and sturdier a man was, the slower he was bound to move. Thus, the people of the Luna Kingdom passed down techniques for traversing the snow from generation to generation—specifically, how to step to minimize sinking. Those who wielded Aura, in particular, mastered a technique of skimming lightly across the surface to propel themselves forward explosively. This was not a skill acquired in a day or two. Such precise control demanded grueling, relentless training.
Yet, Roman Dmitry and his soldiers kept up effortlessly.
Glancing back at the ground, Caden saw that they left only the faintest of footprints in their wake.
'They perfectly understand how to move on the snow. Otherwise, they couldn't possibly travel over it leaving so little trace. How is this possible? As far as I know, we never shared Arcadia's methods with Dmitry. Could it be, just as Roman Dmitry said, that Dmitry developed this entirely on their own?'
It was unbelievable.
The footwork Caden used was the culmination of Luna's long history. In a land with four distinct seasons like Dmitry, developing a technique comparable to Luna's should have been impossible.
Furthermore, Roman Dmitry and his soldiers didn't seem particularly bothered by the bitter cold or the blinding blizzard. They hadn't undergone any specialized training to adapt to this freezing environment. Normally, instead of moving at such high speeds, an ordinary person would be shivering violently, desperately searching for a cave to huddle in.
A complex mix of emotions welled up inside him.
While he felt relieved that they were so thoroughly prepared, his pride was undoubtedly wounded.
However, he didn't try to pry for the truth.
'Perhaps...'
Roman Dmitry.
He didn't leave even a single footprint behind. Watching him glide across the snow like a phantom, Caden realized that Roman Dmitry might actually be faster than him. The reason Roman hadn't overtaken him was simple: Caden was the guide, so Roman saw no need to push the pace.
Caden shook the thought away. If he didn't need to worry about Roman Dmitry's forces keeping up, then arriving at Luna's Fortress as quickly as possible was his absolute top priority.
He focused entirely on running.
At this rate, they would reach Luna before the day was out.
* * *
They ran for a long time.
When they were finally nearing their destination, Caden's magic communicator beeped, signaling an incoming message.
Beep.
[Caden. The enemies have come into view. From this moment on, we begin a life-or-death battle.]
Caden came to a sudden halt, his boots digging into the snow.
He froze in his tracks. An ominous sensation washed over him from High Priest Sebastian's message.
[The enemy is jamming our magic communications. I do not know how they saw through our intentions, but they seem to realize that dragging this out will create variables. Tens of thousands of Orcs, led by Graxar, have arrived here. Luna may fall before you even get here.]
His hands trembled.
Jamming magic communications.
Only now did the puzzling silence make sense. From the moment they arrived in Arcadia, magic communications should have been perfectly smooth, yet no reply to his previous messages had come. Graxar had seen through Luna's intentions. Realizing that a delay would allow reinforcements under Roman Dmitry to arrive, Graxar had abandoned his initial plan of striking the supply warehouses and marched straight for Luna's Fortress.
A chill ran down Caden's spine.
Luna was weak. They were utterly powerless against tens of thousands of Orcs.
And then came the final message. The moment he read it, Caden's expression twisted in despair.
[I am sorry. Abandon this place, and save yourself.]
It was certain.
Luna had already fallen into the hands of the enemy.
* * *
There is a common misconception people hold regarding Orcs.
Because they possess the faces of pigs—livestock raised by humans—they are assumed to be a barbaric and stupid race. Perhaps Jairo's complacent plan had stemmed from this exact prejudice. While the Orcs did indeed display a brutal recklessness that disregarded consequences, their leader, Graxar, was far more cautious than his appearance suggested.
After dealing with Jairo, Graxar had immediately interrogated the prisoners.
Faced with the horror of being eaten alive, the driven-mad soldiers had no choice but to spill everything they knew.
"R-Roman Dmitry! Dmitry has agreed to help us!"
"Dmitry's numbers are very small! Because they are only sending thirty reinforcements, Sir Jairo set a trap to turn the tide using only Luna's strength. Please, I beg of you! I won't ask you to spare my life. Just make it quick, without pain!"
Graxar calmly assessed the situation.
Roman Dmitry.
It was an unfamiliar name. While the Luna Kingdom had received news of the Salamander Continent through Isabelle, Graxar had absolutely no idea who this Roman Dmitry was. However, one thing was certain: he could hear the desperate anticipation for this man in the soldiers' voices. This Roman was clearly no ordinary being, and Graxar judged that even with a mere thirty men, he could introduce dangerous variables to the war.
"Chwiik. Kalot. We head straight for Luna's Fortress."
"Chwiik. Understood."
He changed his strategy on the spot.
If the enemy was waiting for reinforcements, then he simply had to wipe out their main force at Luna's Fortress first. No matter how strong this Roman Dmitry was, he could not overturn the tides of war once Luna's core forces were annihilated.
He also added one crucial detail.
He mobilized his Shamans to jam their magic communications.
Finally, the towering walls of Luna came into view.
Without hesitation, Graxar ordered his soldiers forward.
"Chwiik. Follow me."
"Kuaaak!"
"Grrrrrr!"
The attack came far earlier than Luna had expected.
As Graxar and his Orcs charged, terrified soldiers scrambled atop Luna's walls. They quickly took their positions and unleashed volleys of arrows. They poured boiling water over the ladders hooked to the ramparts to halt the ascent, while others dumped oil and hurled torches. Flames flared up fiercely. No matter how heavily the snow fell, the oil-fueled inferno mercilessly consumed the Orcs' bodies.
Rumble.
Ruuuumble.
Graxar unleashed his Aura.
A crimson light flared as he struck the castle gate, but the result was vastly different from when he had attacked the seventh supply warehouse.
Crash!
It did not break.
No matter how hard he struck, not a single scratch appeared on the heavy iron doors.
"Bless."
Atop the wall stood High Priest Sebastian, his hands clasped tightly together in prayer.
The Luna Kingdom was generally weak in national power, and its military was small. However, the reason they had been so formidable when Isabelle was present was precisely because of the divine blessing. Sebastian infused the gate with this holy power, rendering it harder than steel, and the radiant energy cascaded outward, enveloping all the soldiers.
"Die!"
"O God! Grant me strength!"
The soldiers rallied.
Plunging their weapons into the vital points of the Orcs scaling the walls, they displayed strength far greater than they had ever possessed.
Luna.
This was the true potential of the Holy Kingdom. It was the absolute power that had allowed them to survive as the sole human nation in Arcadia. When Queen Isabelle's blessing was manifested, even ordinary soldiers exhibited monstrous strength. Though not as potent as hers, Sebastian's divine power was still formidable. The holy blessing enveloped the soldiers. No matter how fiercely they fought, their stamina did not deplete. Even as they bled profusely from the Orcs' brutal attacks, they cried out to God and dragged their enemies down the walls with them.
The battle was incredibly fierce.
Even as tens of thousands of Orcs pushed forward like a dark tide, a mere few thousand soldiers held the line, refusing to let them breach the walls.
If only...
If only Jairo had been there. Or if Royal Knight Commander Leo had not followed Isabelle, they might have held out a little longer.
Graxar scaled a ladder himself.
The moment his boots hit the ramparts, he cut down the charging soldiers in a single, devastating sweep. Seeing over a dozen of their comrades collapse in a spray of blood, the remaining soldiers froze in terror. He was an existence that even the divine blessing could not overcome. The suffocating bloodlust radiating from Graxar forced the soldiers of Luna to face their grim reality.
"Chwiik. The history of Luna ends today."
Graxar unleashed an absolute slaughter.
And then—
Crash!
He severed the massive chains supporting the castle gate.
As the steel links snapped and the gate crashed open, a black swarm of Orcs surged inside like a tidal wave.
It was over.
High Priest Sebastian closed his eyes tightly as he watched the horrific scene unfold.
"...O God."
That was... a tragedy that had occurred just one day ago, right before Caden had arrived back in Arcadia.
* * *
Crackle, crackle.
Luna's Fortress burned.
Only the agonizing screams of its people echoed across the ruined land.
"Kyaaa!"
"P-please spare me! Just once, spare— Argh!"
Thud.
A heavy club slammed into a skull.
The man who had been begging while desperately clutching an Orc's trouser leg lost focus in his eyes and collapsed face-first onto the frozen ground. Blood pooled beneath him.
The Orc, Kalot, scowled.
"Chwiik. Annoying pests. We plan to keep you alive. So do not court death."
Those who died during the battle had already been secured as food.
While the massive pile of corpses stored in the ice warehouse would feed them for a long time, Graxar wanted to secure as many living captives as possible. This was not out of mercy. Since the end of this war would ultimately result in the extermination of all other races, he fully intended to raise humans like livestock to prepare for the future.
Luna's Fortress had simply become their new storage facility.
Graxar had already departed to attack the other races, leaving Kalot and a whopping ten thousand Orcs behind to manage the fortress and clean up the aftermath. They hauled the corpses to the ice warehouse. The living were thrown into areas designated as livestock pens. And, anticipating that Dmitry's reinforcements might arrive later, they hastily repaired the gate and disguised the exterior to make it look as though Luna was still standing strong.
It was a trap.
If a soldier whose family was held hostage was forced to put on an act atop the walls, the foolish humans would highly likely be deceived.
"...Luna is finished."
One of the prisoners, a man named Smith, muttered with a look of absolute despair.
Jairo, who had proudly vowed to subjugate the Orcs, had been reduced to livestock just like them. High Priest Sebastian had been dragged away by Graxar after putting up a fierce resistance. The fates of their key figures were entirely unknown. Since Queen Isabelle and Royal Knight Commander Leo had been out of contact for a long time, Smith believed there was no hope left for the Luna Kingdom.
Of course, he had heard the news that Caden had successfully persuaded Roman Dmitry.
But it was too late.
With a mere thirty people, including Roman Dmitry himself, they wouldn't be able to deal with Graxar, let alone do anything about Luna's Fortress while Kalot held it. After all, a staggering ten thousand Orcs were guarding this place. Looking at his friend bleeding out on the cold ground, Smith shed silent tears, his expression dazed and broken.
It was then.
"Chwiik. Lord Kalot! Humans have appeared!"
"Chwiik. Roman Dmitry. It must be him!"
Atop the wall, a scouting Orc eagerly reported the situation.
With a sinister smirk, Kalot grabbed the scruff of a pre-selected soldier and dragged him forward.
"Chwiik. Human. You will act from now on. Make them come as close to the wall as possible, as if this place has not yet fallen to the enemy. Do that, and chwiik, I will spare you and your family."
"U-understood."
Kalot strode forward.
Perhaps, despite the magic jamming, the situation here had somehow been transmitted through magic communications.
It didn't matter either way.
If the humans approached foolishly, the Orcs would simply rain down attacks and wipe them out from atop the walls. Even if they realized it was a trap, there was no way thirty people could breach Luna's Fortress while it was guarded by ten thousand troops. Kalot felt a surge of dark excitement. Wondering what a human from the Salamander Continent would taste like, he couldn't hide his anticipation as he headed toward the ramparts.
From now on, it was time to enjoy the victor's privilege.