Snowfield Defense Battle - 2: The Valkyrie's Command
To boost the barbarians' morale, I mentioned Valhalla, the warriors' paradise.
The effect was tremendous. The warriors let out roars like they'd swallowed burning coals, whipping themselves into a frenzy of passionate excitement.
They no longer feared death, brimming with the ferocity to smash the enemies' heads with their sturdy axes right then and there.
I'd provoked them into becoming berserkers who defied death itself—but I had zero intention of marching them to their graves.
It was all just to lift their spirits.
In stark contrast to the heated atmosphere, my mind stayed ice-cold, devising smarter ways to fight.
'It'd be ideal if they could safely hurl spears from atop the barrier to take out the monsters... but that's probably too much to hope for.'
Every barbarian in the game charged headlong without a second thought.
Even on the brink of death from wounds, they'd hurl themselves forward, sparing no regard for their lives.
If Hines was the first to bite the dust in the story, then in gameplay, it was the barbarians.
They were the ultimate nuisance allies—most users despised them.
'But that doesn't mean there are no tactics tailored for barbarians.'
Of course, there were users who loved barbarians.
They constantly researched barbarian strategies and posted guides on community forums.
There were some ingenious ones, but hardly anyone followed them.
No point twisting yourself into knots when you had perfectly good allies available.
But who am I?
A grizzled veteran of the Aslan Chronicles, who's sampled every flavor from sweet to bitter to spicy.
I'd tried every strategy centering barbarians as mains—even written my own guides.
I had full confidence I could lead these barbarians and dominate the battlefield.
That said, I first had to solve the biggest hurdle.
"Lord Hines, what's your plan from here?"
"I'll command the barbarians and lead us to victory."
"Will they obey your orders nicely? They might pretend to at first, but they'll go rogue in no time."
Barbarians were infamous for their mule-headed stubbornness.
No matter if I called myself king—if it clashed with their beliefs, the odds of defiance were sky-high.
We weren't comrades who'd shared decades of trials either, so resentment was guaranteed.
Especially the tribes without leaders, aside from the Frost Bear and Frost Fang—controlling them would be a nightmare.
So how to handle it?
"There's a special way to make those stubborn fools compliant."
"You're going to force them with overwhelming power?"
"Nah, that'd require beating them hundreds of times over. How could I?"
Barbarians weren't the type to bow to tyrants.
And if the oppression wasn't from my raw personal strength? Utterly pointless.
The way to win them over short-term wasn't brawn—it was jawboning.
"Not a single one left means they're all itching for Valhalla, right?"
"Of course!"
"What warrior doesn't crave Valhalla?!"
"If you're scared, king, hang back! We'll handle the enemy!"
Laughter bordering on mockery erupted from all around in response to that jab.
Not every barbarian was friendly toward me, it seemed.
Maribel and Cress's faces darkened ominously, but I just flashed a smile.
'Oh, playing it like that, huh?'
The situation was veering off strangely, but my goal on this journey was to win over the barbarians.
I'd prepared a slew of plans to make them follow me.
The Donetoungk Trial was one of them.
Even so, I figured some wouldn't submit even after passing it.
"Warriors, behold!"
I pulled a sheet of parchment from my pouch and held it high.
A magic scroll that manifests the caster's imagined image as an illusion.
But to hide that it was a magic scroll, I bellowed at the top of my lungs.
"This is a letter from Lord Donetoungk to a great warrior! A blessing bestowed upon me after conquering the trial and reaching the summit!"
I lied, framing it as an exclusive perk for grand warriors who'd cleared every trial.
No evidence whatsoever, yet the warriors reacted with fervor.
A few shot suspicious glances, but none spoke up.
I was the only one who'd ever summited the snow mountain—how could they call it a lie?
"I intend to share the contents of this letter with you brave warriors!"
"Share a divine letter?"
"A blessing given only to those acknowledged by the god?"
"Is that for real?!"
"Of course. But...!"
Riiip—!
As the excited barbarians watched, I tore the parchment clean in half.
Screams of horror burst out everywhere at once.
Destroying something bestowed by a god? Unthinkable.
I didn't care—I shredded it into confetti and laughed merrily.
"I'm not just handing it over!"
I tapped my temple as if the contents were etched in my mind, then let the scraps flutter away on the wind.
Defiling and destroying a divine artifact on a whim.
Resentment toward me swelled among the barbarians, but it didn't matter.
"Destroying a divine blessing—unforgivable!"
"Explain your crime!"
"Blasphemy!"
Hiss, whoosh.
Amid the boiling accusations, I took a short breath to seize control of the mood.
A being you could encounter only by the slimmest odds in the game.
I recalled its image perfectly, rehearsing the lines in my head.
Then, eyes blazing, I bellowed with utter conviction to devour all dissent.
"Silence───!!"
My voice alone echoed across the entire snowfield.
But it wasn't over. I struck a domineering pose and glared down the barbarians.
"How lamentable that the fearless warriors of the North debase themselves so hideously!"
"Wh-what...?"
⟨ Valkyrie Landgrid ⟩
"Shut your mouths!! I am the arbiter and shepherd of warriors—Valkyrie Landgrid! I have manifested upon this land in response to the call of a great warrior!"
My shout triggered the illusion magic, conjuring a massive female warrior's silhouette behind me.
A divine soldier of gleaming black wings—Valhalla's angel.
Awe and terror swept through them.
No warrior in this world could withstand the Valkyrie's majestic presence; all dropped to their knees.
Even those who'd scorned or doubted me were utterly overwhelmed by the setup and atmosphere I'd fabricated.
"To doubt, slander, and belittle the warrior chosen by the gods, when you yourselves cannot follow! How dare you call yourselves warriors?!"
"V-Valkyrie! We merely serve Lord Donetoungk...!"
"Silence that foul mouth—do not sully the holy name of the god!!"
Another thunderous rebuke, and the barbarian trying to argue bowed his head.
I mimicked the Valkyrie from the game to perfection.
My acting was spot-on—even my assassins seemed to catch on that it was all theater, but they played along flawlessly.
They knelt or lowered their heads in reverence, backing me up as my chorus.
"As the one who guides warriors' souls, I declare: There is no place for you lot in Valhalla!"
"N-No way!"
"Valkyrie! Please, withdraw your wrath!"
"We'll prove our valor in death. Grant us the chance!"
I furrowed my brow, reacting as if their words were incomprehensible.
Staying in full Valkyrie character, I shattered and reshaped the "common sense" they took for granted.
"Have your brains fossilized to the point of crumbling? Death is no proof! Only paths walked with true worth lead to Valhalla! An empty death leaves nothing but void!"
"Then how do we prove our worth?!"
"Please, grant us your teachings!"
"Topple the foes before you, again and again—prove your value to the heavens! Do that, and one day, I shall come for you!"
I wanted to ham it up as the Valkyrie a bit longer, but sadly, time was up.
Even so, with her spirit now "possessing" my body, I was certain the barbarians would heed my words.
'And I'm not exactly sweating divine retribution.'
I'd impersonated her without permission, but the in-game Valkyrie had griped to the protagonist about warriors twisting the meaning of death.
She'd probably be nodding along right now, giving a standing ovation from Valhalla.
If not, divine punishment would've smited me ages ago.
"That was Lady Landgrid's final proclamation."
"......"
The barbarians fell deathly silent in unison.
Even single-celled meatheads like them must've had their heads spinning.
But I couldn't give them room for doubt.
I had to make them swallow it as ironclad truth—and present choices that left following me as their only option.
No one made a peep, but I tossed them the pitch anyway.
"I have an operation where you can prove your worth as warriors. Anyone interested, raise your hand."
The moment I made the offer, every last barbarian shot their hands skyward without exception.
All preparations complete.