The Snowfield War: Defying the Beast
The barbarian tribes, once fractured by endless cycles of fratricidal bloodshed, had finally forged an alliance. They had at last grasped a winning hand—a chance to slaughter both the terrifying witch of the Frozen Lands and the arrogant civilized folk once and for all.
Jormungandr. The apex predator of the Frozen Lands. A colossal sea serpent cloaked in a harsh frost-storm. A monstrous beast that ravaged the snowfields, spitting frozen lightning. The shamans who worshipped the evil god had successfully subjugated this great sea serpent. Though its brainwashing and obedience were not yet absolute, it was more than ready to be unleashed in actual combat.
Creeeeaaak—! A beam of brilliant jade light shot out in a straight line. A gale-force wind battered the snowfields. The scattering of jade light was so dazzling it practically blinded the eyes. Simultaneously, the frost-storm surrounding the massive sea serpent whipped up into a violent vortex.
"Gronashi! Gronashi!"
"The great authority of the Demon God shall tear down this cursed wall!"
"Tremble, arrogant civilized fools! Fall to your knees, bow your heads, and fear the Demon God!"
To the barbarians, the wall was an absurd oppression that hindered their valiant charge. Had it not been for that pitch-black barrier—the very embodiment of winter's darkness—they would have long since plundered and burned the civilized world to ashes.
Smash it. Shatter it like ice. This absurd oppression, the hopes and expectations the civilized people clung to—with the power of Jormungandr, subjugated by the authority of the Demon God, the wall would crumble in an instant.
Boom—! A resounding, ear-splitting crack echoed through the air. At that exact moment, the ecstatic faces of the barbarians froze. The jade light unleashed by Jormungandr, which had struck the wall, bounced right back with a deafening boom. The barbarians, who had been eagerly anticipating the wall's collapse, were suddenly faced with the absurd reality of being directly hit by Jormungandr's reflected bombardment, as if it had struck a mirror.
"Ugh...! Aaaargh!"
"Aaargh! Great Gronashi!"
The torrent of jade light fired by Jormungandr was a beam carrying a freezing breath. There was no way they could withstand it. It was impossible to regenerate bodies that had been reduced to tattered rags. Dozens of barbarians caught in the jade torrent vanished without a trace.
—Krrraaaaakh!
Its own strike had been reflected. Coiled upon the snow-covered mountain ridge, the sea serpent let out a piercing shriek. Was it out of pride as an apex predator? Or was it a fear that threatened its very instincts? Jormungandr unhinged its lower jaw once more, beginning to concentrate the jade light. The frozen mana scattered in the freezing gale gathered like an incoming tide, dyeing the pure white world in shades of jade.
However, the outcome did not change. The wall remained perfectly intact despite multiple bombardments. And the scattered, reflected torrents of jade light swept through the barbarian forces. It was like trying to hunt a ferocious, quill-covered porcupine only to end up tattered and bleeding all over. After turning hundreds of barbarians into unwilling sacrifices, Jormungandr's continuous bombardment was forcibly halted when a reflected blast struck its own massive body.
—Kihyaaaaakh!
Covered in pitch-black scale armor reminiscent of obsidian, Jormungandr boasted superior resistance to freezing cold. However, it seemed even the serpent could not withstand the full force of its own reflected jade torrent, suffering fatal damage. The scales cloaked in the frost-storm shattered. Its mangled flesh froze instantly. Coiled on the mountain ridge, the sea serpent thrashed violently, crashing down upon the Frost Wraiths that were holding the line. Skeletons prepared for a war of attrition, along with high-level undead meant for the main vanguard, were swept away by its massive weight.
"Something is falling from the wall!"
"It's just one person...! Raise your weapons!"
"Kill him! He is the culprit! The great Demon God commands it!"
As if to threaten the barbarians gripped by fear and despair, a white-hot flash of destruction flared. The brilliant white light, originating from high atop the wall, plummeted like a meteor toward the undead besieging the Iron Bastion.
His heart hammered frantically. The blood vessels in his eyes ruptured, dyeing them crimson. With every breath he exhaled, a freezing jade mist escaped his lips.
Overload. Or perhaps a rampage. He had absorbed far too much mana at once. Leaving such a vast amount of mana unchecked inside his body would surely lead to a severe disruption of his qi and blood.
Releasing the turbulent, frozen mana of Jormungandr from within him, Kailen threw himself off the wall. Gripping the White Night Sword and the Black Star Sword in his hands, he plunged toward the siege towers threatening the fortress.
"Commander! You mustn't!"
"Commander Wallenstein jumped from the wall!"
*Craaaash!* The twin blades sliced through the massive siege tower. Simultaneously, Kailen emerged from amidst the countless flying splinters.
"How brave of you to jump from the wall."
"Bwahahaha! I will rip out and devour your bold heart!"
"Brothers of the Frozen Valley! Kill this brave hero of the wall!"
Admiring the courage it took to leap directly into the fray, the barbarians charged. Showing absolutely no intention of mercy, they lunged at Kailen from all directions with a barrage of vicious axes, maces, and other weapons.
Slash! He thrust the pure white blade forward. The shockwave of the White Night Sword slammed down, crushing the barbarians beneath its weight.
"Aaargh!" "The Demon God's authority...! Gronashi's power is gone!"
The white-hot storm extinguished the Demon God's authority. Suppressed by the shockwave, the barbarians realized that their tattoos of Gronashi, which had been radiating a dazzling light, had lost their power and gone dark.
The power that had been boiling within them vanished. The near-immortal vitality they possessed met the same fate. Every time Kailen swung the White Night Sword and the Black Star Sword, barbarians collapsed, spilling blood and entrails onto the snow. Yet, as if their reckless ferocity and hymns to valor remained unbroken, they did not stop throwing themselves at him.
Clang! "Even with the power of Gronashi or whatever gone... you still want to fight?"
"Of course, Champion of the Wall! The brothers of the Frozen Valley do not fear death! The great Demon God desires eternal struggle and bloodshed!"
They did not fear death. No, they actively craved it. Every single barbarian raised their weapons, seeking a glorious end. Gripping their maces and axes, they charged with thunderous roars. To answer their display of valor, Kailen granted them spectacular deaths, tearing their bodies apart without a shred of mercy.
"The evil spirits are screaming...!"
"We will not let you live. The spirits shall burn you to ashes!"
"Even if we have temporarily lost our authority, to slaughter so many of our warriors...! You must not be allowed to live!"
With a dizzying ignition, numerous dark green pits of fire manifested. Shamans. They were the shamans who worshipped the Demon God. The hunchbacked shamans raised their staffs and chanted spells. Utilizing the power of evil spirits, they unleashed a barrage of dark green fireballs like a shower of arrows. However, just like the jade beam fired by Jormungandr, the countless fireballs lost their trajectory and were sucked into the blade of the Black Star Sword.
"Burn to death in your own flames, old men."
The blade of the Black Star Sword became shrouded in dark green fire. *Whoosh!* Kailen swung the Black Star Sword downward, releasing the spirits' flames back at them. The shamans, who had been staring at the scene with eyes wide with shock and bewilderment, were instantly engulfed in the fiery pits.
Strange... Even after rampaging like this, my strength hasn't depleted at all.
Infinite power. One might call it a "full stack" state. The reason was clear. He had absorbed Jormungandr's power. Every time he withstood the jade beam, it had gradually accumulated within his body. The mana he had absorbed with the Black Star Sword in the past was crude and insignificant. In contrast, the jade torrent spat out by the sea serpent that swallowed the snowfields was pure energy, a direct concentration of the Frozen Lands' frozen mana.
If only I can reach the rank of Sword Master through some kind of miraculous opportunity...
Thinking of the Black Lion who protected the Holy Empire—the male protagonist he absolutely had to defeat to win over the female protagonist—he furrowed his brow. He took a step forward. Countless barbarians still bared their teeth, their fighting spirit unextinguished. Kailen unleashed a sword qi dyed in frozen jade, answering their challenge.
Three days. The Iron Bastion did not fall. The barbarians and undead who had sought to bring down the impregnable fortress had merely been repelled. The wall stood tall, and the knights of the Frozen Lands held their ground. The countless corpses and debris scattered around the fortress spoke volumes of the one-sided outcome of the siege.
"Sigh... To think that the human wave tactics we fought day and night for three days, relying on the fortress walls, was merely a vanguard sent to gauge our strength and numbers."
Joy and hope evaporated as fleetingly as tiny droplets of water. A vanguard. They were nothing more than expendable forces. They realized that the barbarians and undead who had assaulted the Iron Bastion were but a fraction of the enemy's total numbers.
*Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.* The ground began to vibrate. It was a chilling metallic sound that carried an overwhelming sense of dread. Thick dark clouds gathered. An ominous, dark green shroud, the hallmark of the demon race, unfurled. Wraith knights with glowing blue eyes parted the dark green shroud, revealing their hideous forms. There was no mistake. It was the main army of the Frost Wraiths threatening the Frozen Lands.
Skeletal horses, reduced to bare bones, formed ranks with bizarre, clicking sounds. Mounted upon these phantom steeds, the wraith knights lowered their longswords and lances, which were infused with dark green sword qi, and awaited their orders. Their numbers reached into the tens of thousands. Furthermore, they consisted entirely of high-level undead. Heavily armored death knights, wraith knights, and liches clad in tattered robes. It was a massive force, more than capable of trampling the Iron Bastion in a single sweep.
"Listen, Wallenstein detachment and knights of the fortress. We will fight to the very end. If we can just hold out for one more day... No, just half a day more, Her Excellency Leonora will arrive with the grand army of Nilfheim."
"Understood."
Four days. That was the deadline Leonora had promised. One day. They only needed to hold out for one more day. Looking at the knights covered in dust and grime, they spoke of hope. But realistically, it was impossible. A day? Half a day? They wouldn't even last an hour. They would be crushed like a mantis trying to stop a carriage wheel. He recalled the residents of the Frozen Lands trembling in fear of death inside the fortress shelters. Remembering the children praying for a sliver of hope amidst violent despair, he prepared himself to face death.
We will fight to the last man and die. Just as he was about to utter the command alongside a puff of white breath—*Boooooooo—!* The heavy, deep sound of a horn blasted through the freezing air.
A pure white bird of prey soared through the sky. It was the crest of the Edelgard family of the Frozen Lands. Clad in silver barding, the knights of Nilfheim entered the battlefield crawling with cursed beings, their sharp lances raised high.
"Don't tell me... they intend to face the undead head-on? Truly, they live up to their name as the executioners of the Frozen Lands."
The forces of Nilfheim had sallied forth from the wall, taking up positions on the flanks of the Frost Wraiths. Their intention was clear: to break through the undead, who boasted overwhelming power and numbers, in a single, decisive charge.
The Wallenstein detachment would join the fray. Gripping his hilts with hands worn raw from the continuous, rapid use of the White Night Sword and the Black Star Sword, Kailen ordered his men to charge.