Chapter 157 - I Have Finally Returned (2)

Sword light danced wildly, and stone fragments scattered into the air.

"You idiots! What are you just staring blankly for! Shoot! Just shoot!"

Yorden screamed at the top of his lungs. Stone dust crunched between his teeth.

Spitting it out with a ptui, he went around kicking the Rangers' asses.

"Don't let your hands stay idle!"

Startled, the Rangers finally grabbed their bows and aimed at the sky.

"Damn it! What's the point of a promotion! The work is exactly the same!"

He had shed the rank of platoon leader and been promoted to Ranger Company Commander, but his duties were not much different.

Kicking his subordinate Rangers' asses—the only difference was that the number of asses he had to kick had increased from ten to two hundred.

"Is this why they promoted me!"

Despite complaining unfittingly for the situation, he continued to press the Rangers.

The knights blocked the falling boulders, but they did not deal with the harpies.

In the end, dealing with the harpies was the Rangers' job.

However, those Rangers were just completely sluggish.

"These fucking recruit bastards! Two winters have already passed, but they haven't improved at all!"

They had built up enough experience that they could no longer be called rookies, but in his eyes, the Rangers were still nothing but chicks.

If it were the Rangers of old, they would have wiped out harpies like those before they could even approach.

But what could be done?

The surviving veterans were extremely few, and they had all become commanders.

The thick curses echoing from all over the wall belonged precisely to them.

"Now they'll probably understand how I felt!"

Thinking that his former platoon members were also struggling with clueless recruits(?) just like him made him feel a little better.

But that was only for a moment; his eyes shot wide open.

"Tha-tha-that!"

In Yorden's eyes, he saw a harpy that had finished dropping rocks snatch up an Orc instead of a boulder and take flight.

"Crazy!"

He instantly realized the harpies' intentions.

Instead of boulders that were hard to find in the snow-covered fields, they seemed to have decided to use the monsters that were overflowing everywhere.

It was a paradigm shift if one could call it that, and an astounding improvisation if one could call it that.

If the targets of those massive lumps weren't them, he would have even applauded.

KUEEEGH!

An Orc plummeted from the sky.

"Whoa! That startled me!"

There wasn't even time to draw a sword.

SPLAT.

The Orc could not withstand the impact of the fall and turned into a bloody paste.

Similar scenes were unfolding all around.

Countless monsters dropped by the harpies plummeted onto the wall.

Most of them were hacked to death by the knights' swords before they even touched the wall. The monsters that luckily fell where there were no knights paid the price for flying without wings by turning into a bloody paste.

The harpies didn't care in the slightest whether the monsters lived or died.

They endlessly snatched up monsters and dropped them onto the wall.

Among them, there were also those that survived.

They were the large monsters dropped by the griffons.

"Dodge!"

Yorden shouted urgently.

Most quickly moved out of the way. Except for one Ranger who aimed an arrow that wouldn't even pierce that tough body.

If left like that, nine times out of ten, he would be crushed by the massive monster's body and mashed without leaving even a trace.

"This is why I hate recruits!"

Hurling curses, Yorden threw his body toward the recruit.

CRASH!

Narrowly escaping the monster's drop zone, Yorden grabbed his sword and stood up without even a moment to feel relieved.

GUWOOOOH.

The massive lump that fell onto the wall shook its head back and forth.

"Of all things, it's an ogre."

On this vast wall, to think that the one to fall right in front of him, of all things, was the ferocious monster called the king of the mountains.

His luck wasn't just bad; it was terribly so.

Yorden briefly looked around.

"Uh, uuuuuh..."

Some Rangers slumped down with groans at the imposing sight of the ogre right in front of their noses, while others merely stared blankly at the ogre as if their souls had left them.

The knights seemed to have no capacity to pay attention to this side, as they were busy dealing with the Trolls that had fallen in piles far away.

He looked at the ogre again.

The ogre, with one shoulder slumped from the impact of the fall, had yet to fully regain its senses and kept shaking its head.

But it didn't seem like it would take that long for it to snap out of it.

"Hah. This is why I hate recruits."

Lamenting as such, Yorden adjusted his grip on his sword.

A solemn determination flowed in his expression. No fear was visible.

It wasn't anything special. It was merely his turn now.

Comforting himself like that, he charged at the ogre.

Tossing aside the sword that wouldn't pierce it anyway even if he stabbed, he slammed into the ogre with his entire body.

If he could just roll it off the wall, that would be enough.

Because the cavalry waiting in front of the gate would handle the aftermath.

He ran with all his might and rammed into the ogre.

THUD.

The ogre's body staggered.

Very, very slightly.

"As expected, it doesn't go as planned."

Yorden looked at the ogre with an awkward expression. An eerie light filled the ogre's eyes.

Even amidst its daze, it seemed to have instinctively sensed murderous intent.

The bastard reached out its hand. Its rough grip, capable of crushing an average person's head in a single breath, completely filled his vision.

Yorden's eyes shot wide open.

At that moment, something flew in.

CRASH!

The ogre staggered and stumbled backward toward the edge of the wall.

"Trying to look cool all by yourself!"

Yorden's eyes grew round. He saw Rangers gripping shields and pushing the ogre. They were his damn former platoon members.

"What are you doing!"

"If you have the energy to chatter, lend a hand! This guy's strength is immense!"

"Do you think it's an ogre for nothing!"

At the crazy conversation, Yorden suddenly snapped back to reality and shouted.

"Why are you guys here! What about your platoon members!"

"They're fighting well on their own! Unlike someone, I'm quite a competent commander!"

"Stop chattering and let's just push together for now!"

At the platoon leaders' words, Yorden hastily joined in.

THUD.

Pushed to the very edge of the wall, the ogre staggered. Now, if they pushed it just one more step, they could drop it down below.

They were about to, they definitely were about to.

GUWOOOOH!

Of all moments, the ogre came to its senses right then.

GRAB.

The ogre gripped the shield. The iron shield crumpled like a piece of paper, and the Ranger holding the shield was lifted into the air.

"Ah, I knew it wouldn't work. Pushing an ogre with strength, does that even make sense?"

The Ranger, whose forearm was stuck as the handle crumpled, spoke despondently.

"I'll go on ahead. No need to follow early, so come slow..."

SWOOSH.

Before he could even finish speaking, the ogre threw the Ranger along with his shield.

"You fucking bald bastard!"

With his eyes rolled back in fury, Yorden clung to the ogre. Scrambling up its body in an instant, he drove his dagger into the shoulder that had been mashed by the impact of the fall.

Normally, it would have been a weak stab that couldn't even leave a scratch, but he skillfully drove the blade between the torn skin.

GUWOOOOOH!

The ogre let out a bizarre roar. Rather than a scream of pain, it was closer to a shout bellowed in rage.

"Die! Die!"

Yorden frantically stabbed with his dagger.

SCRAPE, SCRAPE.

The dagger scraped against the ogre's bone.

The ogre threw a fit like crazy.

Unable to overcome that violent thrashing, Yorden was flung to the ground.

GRRRRR.

The ogre growled low in its throat.

It was not an ogre dazed from the impact of a fall, but a real ogre with its ferocity fully roused that stood before him.

In the distance, he could see the knights who had dealt with the Trolls rushing over.

Now was the time to pull back.

However, he couldn't pull back.

It seemed his leg had broken when he fell to the floor.

"Hurry and run away!"

His subordinates shouted.

"I can't go even if I wanted to, you punks."

Giggling softly, he looked at the ogre again.

The ogre approached with a ferocious grin.

Yorden complained quietly.

'If possible, I wanted to die looking good, but it seems I won't even leave a corpse behind.'

And he felt relieved.

Relieved that his opponent wasn't some petty Orc. If he said he died a heroic death fighting an ogre, even those who went before him wouldn't be able to act like seniors. Bracing himself for the impending pain, he gritted his teeth.

But no matter how long he waited, there was no pain.

He looked at the ogre.

The ogre stood stiff and unmoving. It gaped its mouth open, but blood surged and poured out from between its vicious jaws.

A faint line appeared on its neck.

The line gradually thickened until it gushed out crimson blood.

THUMP.

The ogre's head fell off.

Only then could Yorden see the someone standing in front of him.

A knight clad in iron armor. On her chest was drawn a crouching golden lion, and on her pauldron was engraved the head of a roaring silver lion.

Both crests were familiar to him.

The golden lion on the chest was permitted only to a royal knight, and the silver lion head on the pauldron could only be engraved by knights who had reached a supreme state.

And Yorden knew someone who possessed both of those qualifications at the same time.

"Dame Arwen?"

It was the Prince's knight, Arwen Kirgayen.

Arwen slightly lifted her helmet's visor.

The brilliant light blooming at the tip of her sword illuminated her like a halo.

"My respects to your brave struggle."

A clear voice that did not suit the noisy battlefield filled with curses and screams.

The female knight lowered her visor again. And then she began to run along the wall.

"For His Highness the Prince!"

The roar of the Silver Lion echoed everywhere.

"For Winter Castle!"

The knighthood, having already cleared the monsters on the wall, shouted after her.

Morale soared. The monsters' momentum was broken.

BOOM!

At that moment, the iron cannons began to spew fire once again.

"The monsters are retreating!"

The monsters swarming beneath the wall faltered and backed away before starting to flee toward the mountain range.

The flock of harpies and the pack of griffons that had crowded in pitch-black swarms were also gone before anyone realized.

"We won!"

"We are victorious!"

The Rangers and knights cheered.

Yorden looked at them with gloomy eyes.

"I survived again."

With a dry voice that was neither joy nor lament, he shook his shoulders.

It was a weary movement, as if he were carrying a heavy burden.

"Captain."

A former subordinate standing next to him smacked the back of his head.

"You crazy bastard!"

Yorden yelled fiercely.

"Are you going to keep fighting with your life on the line like that!"

"Pushing an ogre with your body, are you out of your mind!"

His subordinates nagged him.

"I guess I caught it from His Highness."

Thinking even to himself that he had gone a bit too far, Yorden replied with an awkward expression.

"You'll really die if you keep doing that. There are only three of us left from the 17th Platoon now. Even if you combine all the old guys, there aren't even thirty of us left."

At those words, Yorden replied with a rarely serious face.

"Don't worry. I won't die before I turn those greenhorns into real Rangers befitting Winter Castle on behalf of the guys who went first."

"You're full of it. You barely survived today."

However, the senior Rangers did not humor his seriousness.

"You guys have too much free time, don't you? Huh? Do you think the work is done just because the battle is over! Hurry up and go work!"

"We got it. You should go change your pants too, Captain. Looked like you pissed yourself earlier."

"What do you punks take your Company Commander for!"

The men chuckled and laughed.

"Huh? It's the lord."

One Ranger who had been giggling for a long while pointed at the lord of Winter Castle approaching with a stiff face.

"Why are you so angry... Ack!"

Asking for the reason behind the lord's unusual mood, Yorden grabbed his shin and screamed.

"My leg! My leg is broken!"

"The broken one is the other leg. And."

The lord of Winter Castle put on a stern face.

"1st Company Commander of the Ballorhard Rangers."

"1st Ranger Company Commander Yorden!"

Overwhelmed by that fierce momentum, Yorden forgot his pain and stood at attention.

"It seems you do know you're a Company Commander. Seeing you abandon your company members and charge at an ogre, I thought you were just a regular member."

"Th-That was because the situation was so urgent... Ack!"

The lord of Winter Castle kicked Vincent's leg again.

"Do you not know that if a Company Commander falls in battle, the burden on the platoon leaders increases? You put your entire company at risk just to catch one ogre? Are you still an officer after doing that?"

"It couldn't be help... I am sorry!"

Lowering the foot he had raised again, the lord of Winter Castle scolded Yorden.

"You've eaten military rations for so long, yet you still act like a rookie? Just when are you going to break out of being a chick?"

"I am sorry."

"If you want to swing your sword that much, just say so. I will personally throw you down below the wall. You'll be able to fight to your heart's content. Exciting, isn't it? Is that really what you want?"

The proportion of wall defense handled by over two hundred Rangers was by no means small. Because such a force had almost been left without a commander, he wouldn't have an excuse even if he had ten mouths.

"I am sorry."

Yorden continuously bowed his head and apologized.

"It's the same for you all. If the Company Commander dies, and you guys die, creating a leadership vacuum that gets the Rangers annihilated, are you going to take responsibility?"

"We are sorry!"

At the strictly disciplined apologies of the Ranger platoon leaders, the lord of Winter Castle clicked his tongue before speaking in a heavy tone.

"Do not die easily. Survive and do the share of those who went first. That is our mourning and our memorial."

"We will keep it in mind."

A solemn Yorden and the Ranger platoon leaders bowed their heads.

Clicking his tongue once more, the lord of Winter Castle turned around.

"Does he think some of us don't swing swords because we don't know how? You must have awareness as a commander, for goodness' sake."

Watching the lord of Winter Castle disappear while grumbling, Yorden spoke quietly.

"Looks like he really wanted to fight."

Even if his words were right, the Ranger platoon leaders—who usually opposed him out of habit—nodded and expressed their agreement this one time.

* * *

The monsters did not distinguish between day and night.

The number of monsters was horrifyingly large. The Rangers of Winter Castle had to fight day and night.

They killed and killed, but there was no end.

Even if they killed a thousand today, an even greater number would flock in tomorrow.

It was a grueling war that reminded them of the war with the Warlord.

However, Winter Castle stood firm.

They were no longer alone.

When the Rangers grew tired, the troops of two legions gathered from the North climbed the wall.

Seven knighthoods took turns standing together with the soldiers.

The Mages of the White Night Tower also helped defend Winter Castle. Even though they were merely novice Mages who could only cast a few spells and completely passed out after using them once. Because they were there, massive damage could be prevented on multiple occasions.

There were also the iron cannons provided by the Dwarves.

Furthermore, reinforcements should have departed from The Capital by now.

If they could just hold out until then, it wouldn't be entirely impossible to go beyond defending the castle and open the gates to annihilate the monsters.

Nevertheless, absolutely no one was optimistic about the war situation.

The number of monsters gathered in front of the castle was far too massive for that.

The monsters that had ceaselessly pushed their way in from the mountain range had grown into a massive army nearing 10,000 before anyone realized.

Now, the monsters did not return to the mountain range even when the battle ended.

They stayed at a distance out of arrow range, constantly eyeing the castle.

At first, they merely clung to the wall and shrieked furiously. But as time passed, the monsters' attacks were becoming organized.

Dozens of species of monsters attacked the castle as if they were a single army.

Orcs climbed the wall using crude ladders and flimsy ropes made by goblins. Ogres and Trolls became battering rams and pounded on the castle gate. Flocks of harpies and packs of griffons frequently appeared to drop monsters or boulders onto the wall.

"It's certain that something is controlling the monsters."

Arwen Kirgayen was certain as she watched those monsters' movements.

If that weren't the case, there was no way the monsters—who should have already torn each other apart and self-destructed—would be attacking the castle while amicably dividing their roles like that.

The problem was the identity of that something.

Had a king of monsters like the Warlord been born once again?

Or was it an entirely new entity altogether?

She could not know.

If the Prince were here, he would have told them something.

The more her frustration grew, the sharper her sword became.

She sprinted across the wall like a madwoman, massacring the monsters. Sometimes, she slaughtered hundreds of monsters all by herself.

Impressed by her astonishing performance, the Rangers of Winter Castle praised her by calling her the 'Knight of Steel'.

There was no grand reason.

Unlike the knights of Winter Castle, who wore leather armor patched with iron plates here and there, the name was given because she alone wore full iron armor.

An incredibly simple reason, and a naming that was downright crude.

Arwen rather liked that name.

For her, who always wanted to be evaluated solely on her skill rather than her appearance or gender, the name Knight of Steel was more than welcome.

"It's the Knight of Steel!"

Whenever the Rangers cheered like that upon seeing her appear on the wall, she would secretly curl up the corners of her mouth inside her helmet.

And she paid a sufficient price to the soldiers who gave her such a pleasing nickname. With the blood of monsters. She paid and paid again, overflowing.

A performance worthy of the name Knight of Steel, but the number of monsters simply would not decrease.

The number of monsters, which had been maintained at around 10,000, suddenly began to increase explosively at some point.

A horde of Orcs appearing from beyond the mountain range had joined the monsters' army en masse.

And it wasn't just any horde of Orcs, but a properly armed Orc combat legion.

Seeing the red legion flags fluttering everywhere on the snowy fields, Arwen frowned.

An unpleasant sense of déjà vu.

The war that had swept through the North flashed across her mind.

The dark green wave following the Warlord rose before her eyes like an illusion.

"Don't tell me..."

She denied it again and again.

But the more she denied it, the stronger the ominous premonition grew.

And that ominous premonition was unfailingly proven right.

When the monsters' army swarming Winter Castle approached a staggering 30,000.

GUWOOOOOOOOOOH.

A horrifying roar was heard from beyond the mountain range.

"Dame Arwen!"

The lord of Winter Castle called Arwen in a stiff voice.

She immediately drew her sword. And then she roused her momentum to the maximum.

So that Ballorhard's soldiers—who were still soft compared to the soldiers of old—would not be devoured by fear.

A radiant cluster of light, like starlight, burst forth from her sword.

GOOOOOOOOH.

A clear and bright energy descended upon the entire castle.

The Rangers, who looked as if their souls had left them, flinched and snapped out of it.

But that was all.

They had awakened, but they were still in the middle of a nightmare.

Arwen's momentum and energy could not completely drive away the momentum of the beast howling deep within the mountain range.

She rotated her ring even more fiercely.

GUWOOOOOH!

As if mocking her, the entity beyond the mountain range howled.

The enemy had not even revealed itself yet. It had merely howled.

The momentum Arwen roused trembled anxiously.

As if it would disappear at any moment.

"The snow-covered mountains."

Right then, the sound of a song with a familiar tune could be heard from somewhere.

"The frozen valleys, the walls seeped in crimson blood are silent,"

A low voice like a whisper in the ear; her ring began to resonate.

WOOOOONG.

The inside of her helmet was hot as if it had caught fire.

Unable to endure it, she threw off her helmet and let out a feverish breath.

Her gaze headed far below the wall.

He was there.

In his hand, he gripped a sword shining as brilliantly as the dawn twilight driving away the night.

The First Prince, whispering a War Poem with his lips.

"Only the sound of the horn of advance blowing in the dawn echoes out."

The precarious energy of the Silver Lion, the plummeting morale of Winter Castle, soared to the very edge of the sky.