The Pact in the Canyon
Whoooosh!
Amid the howling blizzard, a suffocating tension crushed the canyon.
And at its very center—
Swoosh!
Lucael’s sword carved a straight blue line through the air.
“Kraah!”
Even drawing every last drop of mana, Iryakle could not block the strike. He barely saved his arm from being severed, yet blood still dripped steadily from the tattered ruin of his hand.
“Huff… huff…”
Iryakle’s breath came ragged as he stared at Lucael. He had known the man was strong, but he had never imagined the gulf between them would be this vast.
“……”
Lucael said nothing. He simply watched, then stepped forward. Under normal circumstances he could have ended the fight in fewer than ten exchanges, yet he dared not unleash his full power. A careless release of aura, an explosive shockwave, and the canyon walls would shudder. The snow piled high above would come down in a single catastrophic avalanche, burying every special-unit soldier who had entered the gorge.
“Hoo.”
Lucael exhaled a plume of cold air and raised his blade.
“If that’s all you have, you die here.”
“Kugh…!”
Unable even to retreat, Iryakle glared with bitter frustration. If he failed to stop them here, he could no longer guarantee the safety of his daughter held hostage by the Kar Tribe. He could neither fall back nor charge. Raising his bloodied hand, he once more bared his razor claws.
“You will never pass this place.”
“Die.”
Fwit!
Lucael’s form seemed to vanish into the storm. Iryakle melted into the blizzard after him.
Watching from a short distance, Arteon felt quiet admiration rise in his chest.
…Strong.
The rumors had understated him. Every single stroke of Lucael’s sword was devastating—so perfect it bordered on beautiful. Where Arteon’s own Vargas Northern Spearmanship was direct and crushing, Lucael’s blade never broke its flow. It simply continued, relentless, until the opponent could do nothing at all.
Yet Arteon soon sharpened his senses and turned his gaze elsewhere.
There was only one reason Lucael had stepped forward first.
There has to be another one watching.
The Chebilk cherished their own with fierce loyalty. They would never stand idle while a comrade was being cut down. Better to finish both of them cleanly here than endure their harassment all the way to the canyon’s end.
Arteon’s eyes narrowed. It was time for the second one to show.
Sssk.
“……!”
A faint presence flickered beyond the white curtain. Arteon launched himself toward it without hesitation.
Pabat!
His movement was urgent—and for good reason. The Chebilk locked with Lucael was already a blood-soaked wreck, steadily giving ground. No matter how tough their bodies, further wounds in this cold would kill them.
The second figure had been creeping toward Lucael’s back through the storm. Arteon closed the distance spear-first.
“Got you.”
“……!”
The Chebilk woman spun in shock and struck on pure instinct. The surge of mana and raw power behind the blow were enough to threaten most men—but not Arteon.
Swaek!
He slipped past her claws with ease and tightened his grip on the spear. The moment her body twisted with the attack, he saw her face clearly.
…A woman?
Surprise did not slow him. His left hand clamped around her throat and slammed her into the canyon wall.
Kwaang!
The impact shook the stone. A few clumps of snow tumbled from above, but nothing more.
“Keok!”
She cried out, yet her eyes still burned with defiance as they locked on him.
Chuck.
Arteon shortened his grip and set the spearpoint against her neck. She flinched and went still.
“Chebilk Tribe?”
“……”
Her pupils trembled. She had not expected any Imperial soldier to know that name.
“What’s your name?”
“……Pweril.”
“Besides that man and you—any other comrades? Speak plainly. We lose nothing by simply killing the two of you and moving on.”
Pweril swallowed hard. The calm certainty in his voice was far more terrifying than any empty threat.
“W-we’re all there is. We were ordered to stop you. We’ve been holding this place.”
“……I see.”
That single answer told him everything he needed. She would keep talking.
“First we stop that fight. Resist and you die on the spot. Don’t give me any reason to doubt you.”
Pweril nodded. Arteon bound her wrists with the rope he carried and hurried toward Lucael.
Lucael had already sensed the capture. He was merely pressing Iryakle now, never intending to kill. Still, a quiet doubt lingered.
Whether this plan will actually work… I can’t say.
If it failed, they would simply fall back on the original solution: death.
“Are you toying with me?”
“Perhaps. We have a plan already in place.”
“……What?”
Lucael tilted his chin and pointed behind Iryakle. The Chebilk warrior frowned and turned.
“……!”
His face twisted into the most shocked expression he had shown all day.
“Pweriiiiil!”
Iryakle roared and looked ready to hurl himself at Arteon that instant. Arteon pressed the spear a fraction deeper into Pweril’s throat.
“One step and she dies.”
He disliked hostage tactics, but nothing else would restrain a man like this so effectively. To pass the canyon safely and enter the Kar formation, this was necessary.
“You bastard… do you think you’ll die cleanly after this?!”
Killing intent exploded from Iryakle’s battered body. He looked ready to collapse, yet the aura pouring off him seemed ready to defy death itself. Arteon took it full on without flinching.
“I want to talk. Promise you won’t fight, and I’ll release her.”
“You expect me to trust the word of Empire dogs?”
“As if the Kar keep their promises any better. And…”
Arteon’s eyes went cold. Until now there had been no need to show his true presence.
Suaaaaaak!
Mana surged. Iryakle flinched and took an involuntary step back. He had dismissed the boy as a worthless young Imperial soldier.
How… at that age…
A chill raced down his spine. Even at the lowest estimate the boy stood equal to him—no, higher.
Iryakle glanced at the Imperial soldiers boxing him in front and rear. Struggle as he might, escape was impossible. The only remaining option was to signal failure and trigger an avalanche on the opposite wall—an act that would also mean their own deaths.
He squeezed his eyes shut, then opened them and met Arteon’s gaze.
“That promise—if we don’t fight, you spare us. Is it true?”
“I don’t lie. I can’t set you free, but I will not kill you right now.”
“Typical Empire word games. So you’ll kill us later?”
“If you prove worthless. Help us, however, and I guarantee you will not come out the loser.”
“……”
Iryakle fell silent, mind racing. In this position he had no other real choice.
But can I truly trust him?
The decision hung heavy—until Pweril, still held by Arteon, slowly nodded. Iryakle’s head dropped.
“……I will not resist.”
The killing aura vanished completely. Even his mana withdrew. Lucael watched with a calm, almost surprised expression.
It actually worked.
After such fierce resistance, the man had simply bowed his head. To them, clan—no, family—meant everything.
“I will speak with that human. Whatever demand you mean to make… I will hear it first, then decide.”
“Fine.”
Arteon could have pressed harder and forced total submission, yet he did not. The only reason this warrior was listening to an Imperial soldier at all was the long oppression he had suffered under the Kar.
Arteon glanced at Lucael. The swordsman nodded.
“I’ll take the woman.”
“Please.”
Arteon handed Pweril over and followed Iryakle a short distance to a small cave that offered shelter from the storm.
“Can we talk here?”
“Of course.”
Iryakle remained standing, eyes still wary, ready to fight at the slightest wrong move.
“What do you want from me?”
No point circling.
Arteon went straight to the heart of it.
“Simple. Guide me into the Kar stronghold.”
“……What?”
“While I draw their eyes and hold them, you free your people.”
“You think that’s possible? That other human, maybe—but you…”
Iryakle’s mouth snapped shut. The power this boy had just displayed still burned in his memory—an intensity no one would expect from that youthful face. Perhaps an Imperial like this was exactly the kind of unexpected blade that could cut the Kar where they least expected it.
His expression settled. He could not fully trust the words, yet compared to the Kar the plan was worth the risk. Even if everything ended, the Kar would never simply release them. He had already resigned himself to dying in battle against them. Before that, though…
It should be fine to try another path once.
Strangely, looking at the boy brought a measure of calm. Something deep and unshakable lived in those eyes that did not yet look fully adult.
“……I’ll trust you for now. When do we move?”
“Tomorrow. Immediately. It’s rushed, but there are preparations to make.”
Once the first words were spoken, the rest of the conversation flowed without obstruction. Every detail of the plan already lived inside Arteon’s head.
There is no guarantee of success.
Still—
I will do everything that can be done.
He knew no other path that offered a real chance. In the past, when the Kar had invaded this place, the final choice had always been the same: shatter the canyon walls and bury everything under an avalanche. The Kar would do no different now. Therefore they had to enter the heart of the enemy formation completely—and finish them before any such trick could be played.
If the operation succeeded, the Empire would claim the Aicled Canyon intact.
Then—
“……”
A sudden chill crawled over Iryakle’s skin. The boy opposite him had not moved or spoken, yet his eyes flashed with a sharpness that raised every hair on the warrior’s body.
How can eyes like that exist…
Arteon met his gaze.
“Then tomorrow. We begin.”
Iryakle nodded. Instinct told him the truth.
Perhaps…
Tomorrow, something decisive would finally break the long stalemate of the Aicled Canyon.