Chapter 97 - To the Snowfields

To demons, heroes were like rat poison. Their dimensional interference existed to repel invaders—a power that directly countered demons, the principal invaders. That was why demons were wary of heroes, and why humanity put heroes at the forefront of its struggle against Demon Kings.

Conversely, this meant dimensional interference had little effect on beings from the same dimension. That did not rob heroes of their talent. Even without interference, they enjoyed superior aptitude and rapid growth. Still, there was no denying that they lost one major advantage they enjoyed when fighting demons.

That was why Pablo Barkat had been unable to settle his fight against Austin Kroin quickly, and why he had been powerless to help as the royal army was driven back mercilessly. More precisely, he had pressed Austin throughout the fight but failed to finish him off in time. Meanwhile, his allies had been swept aside.

“We must stop them. We must seize the mine and reclaim what belongs to the alliance.”

Pablo Barkat raised his voice before the nobles of ten nations.

“I discovered the mana stone deposit with my own eyes. That is an indisputable fact. And, blinded by greed for the deposit, they ambushed us! This is a matter that directly affects the alliance’s prestige!”

“What would you have us do, Your Highness?”

“Naturally, we must take it back, by force if necessary. How can we tolerate their intrusion into alliance territory and theft of alliance resources?”

“You are absolutely right!”

Envoys from some nations nodded in agreement. Others, however, looked uneasy.

That was only natural. Eleven nations had gathered under the name of the southern alliance, but not to bring a great nation into being. Survival was their purpose. It had begun as a desperate struggle to halt the Empire’s southward advance and survive.

Most alliance nations wanted stability rather than war, particularly a war they had no assurance of winning. Their hesitation was only natural.

“I understand your concerns. But that does not make it right to let this pass.”

And it was equally natural that Pablo should call for war despite knowing their concerns. The humiliation and insults he had suffered at the hands of those imperial bastards were part of it, but this was not merely a matter of emotion.

“If that mana stone deposit falls into their hands—if they develop the mine and take possession of the stones it produces—those mana stones will make the Empire richer and stronger.

“They will fatten themselves on alliance resources stolen from southern alliance territory. And that wealth will come back to us as a blade aimed at the alliance.”

That was the nature of mana stones: an ore essential to every industry involving magic. Natural mana stones surpassed artificially produced ones in purity, quality, and every other respect. A single large mana stone mine could affect an entire nation, making it wealthy and powerful.

“Will you stand by and watch? The Empire is greedy, and they are always looking for a chance to tear into us. Will you accept destruction in the future because you fear war today?”

“Furthermore!

“People of the alliance have fallen to imperial blades. Their ambush spilled blood for nothing! Who will make amends for their deaths?

“If we do not avenge them, who will fight for the alliance?”

The veins stood out on Pablo’s neck.

“In any case, the Philerium Mountains stand between us and the Empire as a natural fortress. There is no way to bring a large army to the mine.”

Countless monsters would greet them, and more soldiers would die to those monsters before ever facing the enemy. The Empire would never make such a foolish choice.

“We need only reclaim the mine and hold it. The Empire cannot commit a large army either.”

It was not simply a matter of Philerium. The southern alliance had only one enemy, the Empire, but the Empire had countless enemies.

“Above all, the Empire cannot ignore the unrest currently unfolding in the north. If we do not act now, we may never have another chance to reclaim the deposit!”

“Hmm...”

They stifled groans. Intellectually, they knew the prince was right. But plunging into war with the Empire was not a decision they could make lightly. They knew they could not back down, yet defeat was more likely than victory.

One noble raised a hand and asked, “What if the operation fails and the Empire launches an all-out war?”

“Naturally...”

Pablo declared resolutely, “We cannot back down. If we lose the mana stone mine, the alliance is finished. Conversely, if we gain it, we may overturn our shameful history of suffering at the Empire’s hands. We must secure it, whatever the cost.”

“Well said!”

“How long must we go on groveling before the Empire?”

“If you find it difficult to decide, let us follow the alliance’s procedure.”

“... Very well. In three days, we will decide in the traditional manner at the Banquet of Kings.”

The Banquet of Kings was a council where the kings of the alliance’s eleven nations gathered to debate and determine its course. The final decision was made by majority vote.

Three days later, with ten votes in favor and one against, an operation to reclaim the mine was drawn up.

* * *

『My lord! Please help us!』

A single message completely derailed Berge’s plan to enjoy watching the clash between the southern alliance and the Empire.

『We were defeated. Gillian Aint lost his right arm, the barbarians suffered enormous losses, and the White Eagles and our group were scattered across the snowfields. We do not know who is alive or dead!』

... What the hell was this now?

* * *

Rumors traveled remarkably fast.

Without even time to stop at his tower, Berge hastily left Logger and the elves on the outskirts of the southern alliance and headed north with Ernyan. After passing through dozens of teleportation circles, as cool winds replaced the blazing sun, rumors from the snowfields began reaching his ears one by one.

“I hear another tribe of savages disappeared today.”

“This is serious. Does that make five now?”

“What about the White Eagles? Didn’t they say even the Red Hawk had stepped in?”

“No word from them. The imperial investigation team found signs of a fierce battle, but no survivors. The one bit of good news is that they didn’t find Hillen Cargill’s or Gillian Aint’s bodies...”

“Why are the Demon Kings suddenly acting like this? Unless they’ve all gone mad...”

“Something is happening, that much is certain.”

“But have you heard that rumor? Gillian Aint was doing something to the Tower of Bitter Cold...”

Everywhere he went, people spoke of nothing but the snowfields. Berge sifted out the most frequently repeated points.

The monsters in the snowfields had suddenly begun to stir. Their invasion had placed the northern tribes in peril. The White Eagles and the Red Hawk had joined forces to defend them.

Then they had disappeared.

“There’s also speculation that a Demon King intervened,” Ernyan whispered softly.

“I can hear them too.”

They were in a bustling tavern, a treasure trove of circulating rumors.

“What are you going to do?”

“First, I’ll have to establish more clearly what happened.”

Did any of this make sense? No matter how he considered it, he could not understand.

Reina Sordein was strong, of course. But Hillen Cargill and Gillian Aint were Stars. Moreover, Hillen Cargill had hunted down two Demon Kings and was growing stronger by the day. If there had been any risk of Hillen dying, Berge would never have sent him to the snowfields merely to teach him some manners.

‘Did Jason intervene?’

Or was Reina stronger than he thought? He did not know. In truth, there was little he really knew about the other Demon Kings. Before his regression, he had scarcely interacted with them, and since then, he had only just begun getting to know them.

‘Reina Sordein is strong.’

She was a Demon King who had completed the Demon King Military Academy and survived for decades in Arain. It would have been stranger if she were weak.

But unless they foolishly climbed all the way to the top of the tower, they should never have faced Reina Sordein. And the Hillen he knew, though hungry for glory, was by no means that much of an idiot.

That made it all the more puzzling. Why had this happened?

TAP TAP

Ernyan tapped Berge’s shoulder.

“Master Pale.”

“What is it?”

“The merchants who just came in say the imperial army is preparing to march into the snowfields.”

“...!”

“They’re still talking about it.”

Berge listened in the direction Ernyan indicated. Two merchants had set down enormous bundles on either side of them.

“... That...north...”

The voices, buried beneath the noise, gradually grew clearer.

“... The northern army is really heading into the snowfields?”

“So they say.”

“Really? They’ve stayed out of it until now.”

“There’s a limit to that. Five tribes have already disappeared, haven’t they?”

“They’re only northern savages, though.”

“Savages or not, they’re still imperial subjects. And a necessary evil.”

“True. Disgusting bastards, but having them around means less damage to the Empire.”

The northern barbarians lived under imperial rule but refused to submit to it. Dwelling in the snowfields, they preserved their freedom and their own way of life, while also serving as the first line of defense against monsters entering the Empire.

They merely sought to survive, but that benefited the Empire. Thus, the Empire had left the disobedient savages alone, intervening only to prevent them from uniting.

“Then who’s taking the field?”

“Margrave Chernian will command them personally, apparently.”

“Good heavens.”

It was a name Berge had never heard before.

“Margrave Chernian?” he asked.

“He’s the margrave who protects the northern Empire from monsters coming out of the snowfields. A knight in his fifties, and one of the ten best in the Empire in terms of ability. His personal guard, the White Frost Knights, are also called the Blizzard of the Snowfields.”

“I see.”

Lately, Berge had been thinking how convenient it was to have Ernyan along. She was like a library that promptly supplied whatever answers he wanted. Especially when it came to nobles. Being royalty, she must have known the nobility inside out.

“If someone like that is going, perhaps I don’t need to go myself. I might only complicate matters.”

Little good could come from getting entangled with the Empire’s regular army.

“Well, ordinarily I would agree with you.”

“But this time is different?”

“Sir Hillen isn’t weak, after all.”

“Damn it. How did I end up cleaning up after a bloody hero...?”

How could a bastard who had devoured two Demon Kings be so pitifully weak? It infuriated him, but Hillen absolutely could not be allowed to die.

“Still, for the two of them to suffer such a crushing defeat... I really don’t understand. What could have happened?”

As a rule, when a hero faced a Demon King, the Demon King was stronger. That held true even for the heroes others exalted as Stars. But most Demon Kings followed the Guide reasonably well, and Reina was not the sort of demon to leave the top of her tower.

So why had they lost?

‘Of course, they do enter the tower.’

Before his regression, the war between the White Eagles and Reina Sordein, as Berge knew it, had been relatively simple. They gathered the northern tribes and climbed the tower, repeatedly slaughtering the monsters and demonic creatures occupying its lower floors before leaving.

As that continued, the tower inevitably weakened. Demonic energy points were finite, especially when the tower suffered only losses without producing meaningful results. Eventually, the Demon King lost the strength to repel the heroes.

Yet the tower had to be filled, so the Demon King scraped together enough to summon something. The heroes climbed again, hunted the easy prey, and claimed the spoils. As long as they stayed away from the top, they would never have to fight the Demon King, and the damage spread to higher and higher floors.

The vicious cycle repeated until the tower ceased to be an object of terror and became nothing more than a hunting ground for those hero bastards.

But all of that required one condition: the Demon King had to sit foolishly idle without taking any countermeasures.

Ridiculously enough, most Demon Kings maintained that foolishness. Because it followed the Guide. Because it was normal. They failed to realize they were being eaten away, and by the time they noticed, it was already too late.

That was why Reina had nearly been cornered before finally receiving Jason’s help, summoning high-ranking demonic creatures all at once, and smashing those bastards.

But this time was different. Through Berge, she had learned of their plans beforehand and prepared. To discover why Hillen and Gillian had failed, he needed to know what those preparations had been.

‘Reina probably didn’t leave the tower. That means she overwhelmed them with her subordinate demons, demonic creatures, and monsters...’

He did not know the exact number of northern tribes, but he knew there were roughly several dozen. Large tribes numbered in the thousands, small ones in the hundreds. Not every tribe would support Gillian Aint’s cause, but even ten tribes participating would provide well over a thousand warriors.

And if the White Eagles and Gillian Aint, the Red Hawk and Hillen Cargill joined them...

‘Could she wipe them out completely, rather than merely hunt them? Reina does have the most servants of any Demon King, but...’

Weren’t the snowfields their territory too?

“We’ll know once we meet Granada.”

“I’m glad at least Master Granada is safe.”

“Yes.”

Granada had been able to contact him because he had escaped Reina’s clutches and survived the snowfields. Unlike the others who had gone missing, he had chosen the right direction in which to flee and made it back to imperial territory.

He was currently waiting for Berge and Ernyan in a fortress city near the snowfields.

“He claimed he was different from the Red Hawk, but this time he’s outdone them.”

At least this time, it was in a good way. Without him, Berge would not have learned the precise circumstances.

After finishing their meal, Berge and Ernyan resumed their journey north. The atmosphere was unsettled, perhaps because of the unrest in the snowfields.

Several more days passed before they finally reached the northern fortress and met Granada.

“Tell me exactly what happened.”

“Just before we entered the tower, its doors opened on their own. Demons and demonic creatures began pouring out, and thousands of monsters attacked us from every direction as though they had been waiting.”

“... How many demons?”

Granada’s explanation meant one thing.

‘All in?’

Surely not Reina Sordein?

But the real problem lay elsewhere.

“Members of the Red Hawk and the White Eagles began returning a few days ago. The barbarians are also seeking refuge with the Empire.”

“There are more survivors than expected?”

“Yes. Far more than I expected after a battle like that.”

Granada explained that something seemed strange. But to Berge, there was nothing strange about it.

“She seemed determined to finish them off, but Reina is still Reina.”

Utterly destroying the northern tribes and annihilating the White Eagles and the Red Hawk would only put the Empire and the other kingdoms on alert. Reina liked perfection. She believed it was not yet time to provoke the Empire further, so she was avoiding unnecessary slaughter.

That was fortunate.

“Then Hillen Cargill should return soon too.”

Berge sighed with relief. It was a somewhat anticlimactic conclusion after his frantic rush here, but he preferred it that way.

“About that...”

“What else is there?”

“I asked everyone who returned alive, but not one of them had seen Hillen.”

“He must have lost his way.”

“I hope that’s all it is, but... I feel strangely uneasy,” Granada muttered.

Berge’s face twisted into a scowl at those dispiriting words.

“Don’t stir up needless anxiety.”

“... Yes, my lord.”

‘... Should I contact Reina and pretend I’m just asking how she is?’

Nothing would be better than hearing directly from the person involved.