The Final Gateway
The border point between the Northwest and the Northeast.
Aikulred was not a particularly important stronghold.
The path was so narrow that moving supplies between north and south was hardly convenient, and troop movements were no freer. Expanding the road was out of the question besides — with critical battlefields on either flank, no one had the leisure to spare it any attention.
To the west lay Helikel Canyon.
To the east, Elbarphiel Lake.
Seizing those two first had been the highest priority for both the Kar Tribe and the Empire.
But once Helikel Canyon in the Northwest and Elbarphiel Lake in the Northeast had both fallen into Imperial hands, the atmosphere shifted entirely.
From the Empire's perspective, with both strongholds already secured, taking Aikulred alone would complete a perfect route linking the entire North. And for that very reason, it had become a place the Kar Tribe could never afford to surrender.
"…Rugged."
Arriving in the vicinity of Aikulred, Lucael murmured under his breath as he studied the stronghold in the distance.
The final outpost they would have to break open lay right before their eyes — and the terrain was far harsher than he had expected.
Still, if they took this place, the road into the North would open completely.
Helikel Canyon had already finished constructing its forward positions; they could advance at any time. At Elbarphiel Lake, Imperial forces had pushed all the way to the northern edge and would begin fortification work shortly. There had been a few skirmishes in the meantime, but the Empire's troops, already formed up in proper battle order, had driven the Kar back without serious trouble and held the lake.
At this rate…
"Within a year, the foundation for a northern advance will be complete."
All they needed was to take Aikulred inside that year. And yet…
"You were here, sir?"
Isaac, serving as deputy commander of the special unit for this operation, approached Lucael and asked. He too frowned as he took in Aikulred's distant fortifications.
"Not an easy place to enter."
"Which is why we're moving with so few men."
"Even a hundred would have trouble getting in."
The rough ground was only half the problem. The path was simply too narrow. Worse, a road that ran in a single straight line was fatally vulnerable to ambush.
"So we may have to… swing around to the side and scale the walls where there's no path at all."
"…The way we did at Helikel Canyon?"
"Exactly. But it won't be easy. Unlike the canyon walls, this place is thick with brush and obstacles. And the ice walls that haven't fully frozen could become traps of their own. Slip once and you're dead."
Lucael studied the terrain that would become their battlefield in silence. In his mind he sketched out countless scenarios — and not one of them looked simple.
Then, suddenly—
"Come to think of it, you know a soldier named Arteon, don't you? I heard he carried out an operation with you at Helikel Canyon."
"…Arteon, sir? I know him, but why do you ask?"
"A letter came directly from the Corps Commander. That soldier will be joining the special unit for this operation."
"What?"
Isaac's face lit up at once. At the sight of it, Lucael let out a short laugh.
"Judging by that expression, his skill must be the real thing. I wondered why the Corps Commander would send a letter himself. Now I understand."
"Arteon is really coming?"
"I was told he'll join us in a month. Apparently he earned major distinction at Elbarphiel Lake and went on leave."
In any case, devising a plan around this terrain would take considerable time. Given everything still ahead of them, a month was not so long that it mattered.
"…Arteon."
Isaac recalled the first time he had met him — a man who had calmly pulled off things so reckless they defied all reason. The image of him crossing a deep, raging river with nothing but a single rope still burned vivid in his mind.
That bastard… joining this unit.
But Isaac felt no surprise at all. The special unit assembled for Aikulred was the cream of the North, handpicked from the absolute best. Of course a man of his caliber would make the cut.
It was simply that…
"A month."
Anticipation swelled at the thought of seeing him again.
Before long, Isaac fell into step behind Lucael as he turned and headed back toward the main camp.
Late into the small hours.
A deep darkness had swallowed Almers whole. A chill stillness settled over the corridor, so quiet not even a breath could be heard.
A single shadow slid toward the room where Arteon was staying. Its footsteps were light as wind, as secret as the dark outside.
Click.
The masked figure unlocked the door with a key prepared in advance, eased it open a fraction, and looked inside.
Arteon lay on the bed, his breathing even — seemingly still deep in sleep.
Creak.
The door opened just wide enough for a single body to slip through, and a thread of cold air seeped in through the narrow gap. The masked figure slowly bent forward, studying Arteon where he lay.
Ssshk.
Before long a dagger rested in the figure's hand, its keen killing edge lifted toward the ceiling. And just as the blade was about to plunge toward Arteon's heart—
Flash!
A spearpoint shot out from beneath the thick blankets and, in an instant, locked onto the masked figure's throat. The tip had torn through the bedding like lightning; the masked figure froze, unable even to react.
"What is this supposed to be, Lisiven?"
Arteon opened his eyes and looked at the masked figure. His gaze was ice-cold, and a faint killing intent wound around her body like a spider's web.
But then—
"L-Lord Arteon!"
She dropped to her knees at once and bowed her head. As Arteon sat up, Lisiven let out a small breath and confessed everything.
"I… I wanted to see with my own eyes whether it was truly all right for you to take the field yourself in this operation. I overstepped. I'm sorry."
Arteon looked down at her in silence for a moment, then asked quietly,
"Have you got a lead on them?"
"Yes. They're actually reverse-tracking us right now. For some reason they're moving quite aggressively… I believe we can set the board the way you wanted."
But Lisiven's gaze wavered with unease.
"It's just that their movements are more aggressive than expected, and the resistance will be fierce… I'm worried for your safety, my lord."
By her estimate, Nocturne was likely to deploy mid-rank assassins or higher over this affair.
"I can't give an exact number, but… there will be at least a dozen of them."
No matter how much her people helped Arteon, the gap in raw power was clear. Unlike them — who scraped information together from the back alleys — those people had been trained from the start to kill opponents stronger than themselves.
The longer Lisiven spoke, the better Arteon understood why she had done this. And yet—
"I don't think the outcome changes just because I pass a test staged by someone who used to scrape by in the alleys."
"…"
Lisiven only bit down hard on her lip. It stung, but there was not a single flaw in what he had said.
Arteon paid her feelings no mind and continued.
"But we each have our own specialties. Just as you have yours, I have mine — so you don't need to keep fretting over this."
For a moment, Arteon's eyes reflected the past.
For more than ten years he had survived this hellish northern battlefield. He had killed hundreds of Kar warriors, and along the way he had faced countless assassination attempts. The Kar preferred open battle, but the threat of their assassins had been dangerous beyond imagination.
And he had survived all of that. Against assassins of merely this caliber…?
Besides, he had already reached the 4-Star realm. He had even finished training to master the power that had once been unstable after his sudden breakthrough. Unless a 5-Star assassin showed up—
There's no reason I can't handle them.
Arteon settled the thought with firm resolve and spoke to Lisiven.
"Get everything ready as quickly as you can."
His voice rolled low.
"Once we catch them, we'll need to extract information… and that work won't go smoothly. They're all trained."
"I've already recruited someone skilled in interrogation. Trained or not… I'll make them spit out things that never even happened."
Arteon nodded.
"Then let's begin."
At those words, Lisiven nodded in silence.
"…Almers?"
"Yes. Their base of operations seems to be over that way… but when we looked into them, they turned out to be nobodies."
At his subordinate's report, Kaltes's brow furrowed.
He was supposed to take this kind of beating from trash like that?
Kaltes swallowed his anger, recalling the blistering reprimand Jaekle had dropped on him, and looked at his subordinate.
"How large do they look?"
"The ones moving behind the scenes number roughly thirty to forty."
"Back-alley types are always the same. Handle it yourselves. I'll give you all the support you need."
"Then I'll take twenty lower-ranks and five mid-ranks. We need to crush them thoroughly so nothing like this happens again."
Nowhere did rumors travel faster than the back alleys. They needed to make it unmistakably clear what the price was for touching them.
Kaltes nodded at his subordinate's words. But then—
"…Wait."
Something felt subtly off, and Kaltes spoke up.
If a pack of alley rats who spent their days digging up information had truly chosen to pick a fight with them…
Kaltes's eyes narrowed.
It was unlikely — but what if there was some other intent behind it?
After a moment's deliberation, Kaltes seemed to reach a decision and looked at his subordinate.
"Take Bashnel with you."
"Bashnel…?"
The subordinate's pupils wavered. Bashnel was an upper assassin of considerable skill even among his peers. To bother sending him just to clean up a handful of alley scum…
But the subordinate nodded soon enough.
"Understood."
"Report to me the moment it's done."
"Yes."
Once the subordinate left the room, Kaltes stared after him in silence.