The North Defies All Rumors
This was nothing like what they'd heard. The northern reaches of the empire. Silver-rank adventurer Gail and his party had finally arrived at the Wintervalt Grand Duchy—sometimes riding in a carriage, sometimes trudging through blizzards on foot.
"H-H-Hey, boss. We're gonna freeze to death for real at this rate!"
"Damn it all, it's spring—why the hell is there a blizzard like this? The locals are probably all skin and bones, shivering their asses off."
Having come from the warm southern continent, they stuck out their tongues at Wintervalt's harsh environment. It had to be a hellhole where the residents were starving and collapsing in the streets.
"Boss... I think we made the wrong choice."
"We don't know that yet."
"Huh?"
"I've seen plenty of adventurers heading north, but never one who turned back."
"R-Right you are, when you put it like that!"
With a majestic creak, the gates of the castle walls swung open, and they passed through into the territory. They'd walked some distance, thinking the streets seemed surprisingly lively, when—
"...Boss?"
Gail came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the road, staring at the locals going about their day.
"Hey, move that cart! We gotta haul these wolf pelts and meat before the day's out!"
"Hahaha! Hey, honey! Guess how many Dire Wolves I bagged today~? Dinner's on the town tonight! Meat slicing time!"
"Ugh, meat again?"
Far from emaciated refugees, the streets teemed with burly men whose arms were thicker than an average orc's. They all shouldered massive sacks, laughing heartily.
Those sacks are stuffed with magic stones and wolf hides?
The shopping district wafted with the aroma of freshly baked meat pies and stews, and not a trace of cold or despair marred the locals' faces. If anything, they looked healthier than southerners.
"Boss... this isn't all some scam, right?"
"You think anyone builds muscles like that just to rob broke adventurers...?"
Gail had some pride in his own physique after ten years grinding in the south, but facing the brutal, battle-hardened bulk of these northerners deflated him instantly. In a place where monsters like these moonlighted as adventurers, would his modest sword skills even cut it?
Shuffling sheepishly into the guild hall, Gail's party froze once more. Hulking men were grabbing each other by the collars, brawling over the quest board on the wall.
"Hey! We called dibs on the goblin village extermination first!"
"You got dementia or what!? Last time we let you have it, you swore you'd hand over your liver and gall bladder—and now you're playing dumb?"
A whole goblin village extermination? They were fighting over who got to risk their necks on that?
Gail swallowed dryly and approached the reception desk cautiously. The staffer, upon hearing they were from the south, kindly slid over a parchment.
Gail's group read it meticulously before signing.
"Welcome, adventurers! Your registration is complete. We'll handle the free weapon loans and medical mutual aid right away. Oh, would you like the beginner-only free training as well?"
"Beginners?" Gail's eyebrow twitched, pride wounded. "Listen here. We're veterans who've rolled through the south for ten years. Wild stallions whose blades have tasted blood daily. You telling us to go back to basics at the training grounds?"
The staffer just smiled at Gail's growl.
"It's entirely optional. Sign up now, and you'll get complimentary 'Princess's Special Meat Stew' during training. Post-training, you're required to join a wall defense quest once—but it's more like observation duty."
Wall defense quest!? Showing their true colors already.
Of course. No free rides. Some devious finance minister had to be pulling the guild's strings.
"Hmph! We ain't falling for cheap tricks like—"
"B-Boss!"
At that moment, Rick—Gail's closest thing to a little brother in the party—whispered desperately, eyes pleading.
"I heard on the way here: the stew's brewed with the princess's own magic. It's divine! Other places charge top coin and still can't match it!"
"You lunatic. Are we beggars?! Selling our lives for a bowl of stew?!"
They were flat broke, sure—but as long as pride held, they weren't true beggars, Gail figured.
"Boss, didn't we survive three days on a few hunks of rye bread? And look at those giants outside. Training might be safer for us...."
Gail shut his mouth at Rick's words. Through the window, a ragged local split a log barehanded.
"...Ahem."
Gail cleared his throat awkwardly. "Fine. We'll take a peek at this training."
I've lost my mind! Walking into hell myself for a scrap of meat!
At Wintervalt's First Training Grounds, self-proclaimed southern wild stallions Gail and his party rolled on the frozen parade ground, sobbing.
After mindless laps hauling logs, they got no breather before wooden sword spars.
Thwack! Thud!
"Gaaah! Boss! Save me! This old bastard's killing us!"
"Quit whining over wooden swords! A wolf's claws will shred your thin hides without mercy!"
Under the one-eyed guild master's relentless regime, adventurers from across the empire screamed. Gail was no exception. His street-honed techniques crumbled before raw northern brute force. Legs buckling, he slumped, awestruck by the stoic northerners swinging away. They looked miserable too—but their baseline stamina was worlds apart.
Why are freaks like these rotting in this backwater...!
When training hell ended and steaming meat stew was served, Gail understood why northerners endured without complaint.
Nom nom... gulp.
One sip, and tears welled unbidden. He slapped a palm over his face.
Thick pork melting silkily on the tongue, solar mana-infused broth warming to the marrow.
"Sniff... Mom..."
Gail bit back the whimper, but his comrades blurted it out. Battle-hardened vets who'd survived a decade on southern frontlines clutched their bowls, bawling like kids.
For food like this, Gail would've signed life servitude—not just one wall defense.
Three weeks after surviving the ordeal of basic training:
"You southerners have average stamina, but nothing more to teach. Early graduation approved! Deploy to combat immediately!"
With the one-eyed instructor's bellow, Gail's party earned official silver-rank status in the Wintervalt Direct Guild.
"Real action at last!"
"Boss, let's sweep goblin stones and snag the inn's suite tonight!"
Warmed by stew and training, their lost confidence surged. Chuckling, they headed for the quest board.
Then—
BOOM!!
A herald knight with a red banner burst through the guild doors like he meant to smash them.
"Emergency! Emergency! Red signal from the northwest watchtower!"
"Massive monster wave inbound!! Mixed pack of Dire Wolves and Ice Goblins! At least six hundred strong! Hitting the wall in one hour!!"
Gail froze, face draining white.
"Six hundred... plus?"
This was national disaster territory for a knight order. The guild master clapped the dazed Gail's shoulder with a grin.
"What're you standing around for, rookies!? Gear up and follow! Talk about good timing—you're lucky bastards."
Gail gripped his greatsword's hilt with trembling hands.
Damn it, just one mandatory... Is today my funeral?
As he scanned with resignation—
"Kyaaah!!"
"It's here at last!!"
The northern adventurers—who'd been grimacing over princess stew and nursing beers—hoisted weapons, roaring in frenzy.
"Time to rake it in!! This is my house fund day!!"
"Want a tiny stone? Hustle! His Grace'll snatch 'em all again!"
"To princess stew, gazua!!"
Gail doubted his ears. A monster wave—harbinger of doom—felt like a festival announcement.
Even as the wall gates opened, Gail's party stood stunned, unsure what to do amid the chaos.
"G-Guild master. What do we do?"
The guild master just snorted nasally, as if to say: Feed yourself.
Moments later, gates fully open, guild members—salivating—charged in formation. Monster waves crashing like tides? They didn't give a damn.
I used to charge blind like that before I got hurt...
Gail reminisced from afar when Rick, his sworn brother, surged forward eagerly.
"Boss! A vet adventurer's rep is on the line! Potions provided—let's fight like hell!"
Swept by the mood, Gail's party bolted beyond the wall.
Rumble rumble!
On the snowy plains outside, earth-shaking hordes surged like black waves—more horrific than imagined. Wolf howls and goblin shrieks bleached Gail's mind white.
Ah, fuck. Why the hell am I running?
His little sister's snot-nosed face from childhood—separated by poverty—flickered in the air. Life flashing before his eyes?
A wolf's fangs lunged—
Shing!
The Dire Wolf cleaved in half. No—the oncoming monster tide split miraculously.
Neigh!
A black-haired knight on a black steed thundered through hundreds of guild members, striking the battlefield's heart like lightning.
The North's ruler. Swordmaster. Kailan Wintervalt.
Black cloak billowing, he plunged into the densest monster cluster.
"His Grace has arrived!!"
"Wooo!!"
The troops' morale soared at their lord charging ahead selflessly. Gail lost himself in the overwhelming charisma.
"Ugh. Sick of paperwork..."
Muttering, the northern duke advanced on the enemy ranks.
"Woo! Let's hustle!"
"Grab even one stone—run!"
BOOM!!
Each sweeping greatsword swing shattered the monsters' formation; they tucked tail and fled.
Gail had seen talents in ten southern years. But never a man defying nature itself.
Waves... crashing unstoppably... suddenly reversing mid-tide.
Gail's jaw dropped at the sheer force.
"...Dude. This North ain't like the rumors at all."
"Y-Yeah, boss."
Such a place on the continent. The southern adventurers marveled at the world's vastness.