Ch.161Chapter 161

It was just one section of the wall that had collapsed, but the soldiers couldn’t help being shaken.

Anyone with eyes and ears could see the Wendigo rampaging next to them, slaughtering soldiers and knights.

How could ordinary soldiers remain composed when even knights—tempered by a lifetime of honor and loyalty—were trembling in fear?

“Shit, nobody said we’d be fighting monsters like that!”

“It-it’s coming this way. It’s coming!!!”

Of course they couldn’t handle it.

As the Wendigo crossed over to their section of the wall, the soldiers struggled to focus on the warriors climbing up ladders and siege towers.

The Wendigo walking right beside them seemed ready to pounce like an enraged beast at any moment.

“Captain, this isn’t what we were told! You said we just needed to hold the wall!”

“Damn it, who could have predicted a monster would scale the walls? I’ve seen ogres break down gates before, but never a monster climbing walls!”

“Would they accept our surrender now?”

The mercenaries were the first to entertain such thoughts.

True to their reputation as capable fighters recognized by the Dencan clan—who wielded significant influence over mercenary work in the northern Empire—these mercenaries were indeed skilled.

Being skilled didn’t just mean they were good at fighting; it also meant they were perceptive.

For a mercenary who could die at any moment, being “experienced” necessarily included having good instincts.

And these perceptive mercenaries vaguely sensed that the Wendigo’s appearance had dramatically shifted the battle’s momentum.

The mercenary captains glanced at the knights behind them.

‘Damn, this situation looks really bad no matter how I look at it.’

‘Even those self-important knights died in droves. Can’t see their faces well because of their helmets… but they don’t seem confident about facing that monster either.’

‘Those useless mages blocked the catapults, so why can’t they stop the monster?’

Mercenaries fundamentally lack loyalty, and mercenary captains tend to be the least loyal of all.

Why bother with loyalty when it only causes discontent among subordinates and doesn’t earn money?

If they saw a way out, they might sacrifice a few of their men in consideration of the trust they’d built, but they couldn’t see any escape route.

The scales in the mercenary captains’ hearts tipped heavily toward betrayal.

With the weight of the Wendigo added to the already heavy weight of their lives, rewards and trust meant little.

And the knights were well aware of what the mercenaries were thinking.

“If you have time to look sideways, kill one more enemy! Push back the ladders and destroy the bridges of the siege towers!”

“Remember the mercy and grace Lord Dencan has shown you. Have you forgotten who allowed you to operate in the Empire?”

But there was little the knights could do.

If they stopped commanding to deal with the Wendigo, these disloyal mercenaries would obviously scurry away like rats.

The battle line was barely holding only because the knights’ personally trained soldiers were guarding the mercenaries’ rear.

The knights hoped the Wendigo wouldn’t notice their division.

However…

“The smell of fear, anger, and doubt… I can smell the mercenaries’ agitation.”

“It’s no wonder they’re shaken when the adjacent wall collapsed so suddenly.”

Through the pungent smell filling the wall, the Wendigo was well aware of how precarious their situation was.

Honestly, this was a stroke of luck for the Wendigo, who had expected to need two or three more wall breaches.

The reason the mercenaries hadn’t betrayed them yet was all too clear.

He stopped walking, planted his ice sword like a staff, and announced to the mercenaries:

“I am Wendigo, King of Manheimr. Some of you may already know who I am, while others are just learning.”

“King?”

“So it’s true that a Djin is king. The merchants and wanderers weren’t just boasting.”

The mercenaries didn’t find it strange that the monster—no, the Wendigo—called himself king. By the logic of power, if the Wendigo wanted to be king, then king he was.

Skadi’s presence also had a significant impact. Among the dozens of boasts and rumors circulating in the north, the one about a snow-white witch serving the King of Manheimr was quite famous.

The sight of Skadi perched proudly on the Wendigo’s shoulder lent credibility to the rumors.

‘Men are hopeless even in the midst of war.’

The Wendigo looked disdainfully at the mercenaries who stared at Skadi as if entranced, then continued:

“Those who surrender now may keep their lives in exchange for their weapons and armor. This I guarantee on my honor as the King of Manheimr.”

The Wendigo’s voice, carried by magic, echoed throughout the castle. Even on other sections of the wall where fighting had been fierce, the battle paused as mercenaries and warriors looked at each other.

Then the mercenaries’ gazes turned to the knights behind them.

A knight who met their eyes exclaimed in horror:

“Don’t listen to him! Have you forgotten how Djin have deceived and manipulated humans throughout history?”

But the knight’s words carried no weight. For those seeking survival, nothing was more important.

The mercenaries laid down their weapons and knelt. The warriors pushed past them, climbing onto the wall and shouting triumphantly.

But the battle wasn’t over. For the knights with their loyalty and circumstances, surrender was not an option.

The knights’ reactions fell into roughly three categories:

“We’ll hold the stairs—you head toward the inner castle!”

“Damn it… retreat to the inner castle! Demolish buildings to block the path!”

The knights who maintained their composure acknowledged they couldn’t hold the wall and chose to withdraw to the inner castle. With so many mercenaries surrendering, defending the wall was impossible.

But not all knights were level-headed. Most valued courage as a virtue and were far from cool-headed.

They swung their weapons at the surrendering mercenaries, showing their determination to fight to the death, but…

“Put that down! I’ll kill all you worm-like mercenaries!”

“Sir Knight, Sir Knight! Please calm yourself! If you’re not careful, these mercenaries might attack you! I think you should retreat now!”

“Y-you dare!? Let go, I said let go!”

“Quickly, get the knight to the rear!”

The servants and soldiers attending the knights pulled their masters back and headed down from the wall. With families and houses serving the knights, they couldn’t stand by while the knights rushed to their deaths.

Thus, for various reasons, most knights descended. Those who remained at their posts were the ones who had given up.

They glared at the Wendigo with venomous eyes.

“How… how can we surrender the wall so pathetically!”

“I’ll offer my life to cut out your bewitching tongue and present it to my ancestors!”

The remaining knights pushed aside the mercenaries blocking their path and charged as one. Their momentum was like that of wounded beasts, causing Skadi to frown as she raised her ice bow.

But she never drew it.

As the Wendigo’s ice sword emitted a blinding light and traced a crescent, the knights died with their waists severed before they could even feel pain.

The Wendigo didn’t spare a glance at the corpses and looked down from the wall.

With a sound like twisting wood, the gate collapsed, and Manheimr’s warriors poured into the castle.

With the wall breached and the gate broken, reaching the inner castle would be instantaneous, and yet…

‘What are they doing that they’re not responding?’

The Wendigo looked at the inner castle with puzzled eyes.

* * *

Even the Manheimr warriors, who had been unfamiliar with siege warfare, had gained considerable experience after plundering—no, conquering—other castles.

When the gate collapsed, the wolf riders leaped over the rubble and entered the castle.

“His Majesty said to spare those who abandon their weapons. Kill everyone holding a weapon!”

“This isn’t a weapon, it’s a shield! A shield!”

“Can’t a shield kill people? If you want to live, don’t hold anything!”

Though something seemed off about this logic, the Wendigo didn’t particularly care. There wasn’t much difference between the wolf riders’ words and his orders.

The obstacles—buildings demolished by the clan’s knights and debris piled up to block the advance—couldn’t stop the wolf riders.

The wolves leaped over the barriers and charged at the knights. The knights, who had formed ranks for a last stand, were either mauled by wolves or killed by the riders’ swords.

Apart from some minor resistance, everything was going smoothly. The Wendigo found this concerning.

After all, in his experience, things rarely went smoothly.

Whether unfortunate or simply unlucky, his suspicions proved justified.

As the warriors approached the inner castle, its doors opened and knights rushed out. Though it might have seemed like a last desperate act, their momentum was formidable.

Knights in gold-plated armor formed a formation and began to charge.

The large knight at the front shouted in a resonant voice:

“By the Emperor’s command, exterminate these barbarians. Glory to the Empire!”

“Hmph, I heard they were receiving Imperial support, and now they finally show their hand.”

Following the golden knights were heavy cavalry no less impressive than the knights themselves. The sight of horses in iron armor charging forward resembled a wave of steel.

The wolf riders, who hadn’t expected cavalry to emerge from the inner castle, were quite surprised but didn’t retreat.

After all, even in armor and on armored horses, the riders were still human like themselves.

The two cavalry forces charged at each other without hesitation.

But…

“…The wolf riders are being pushed back.”

Though from the outside it appeared the two cavalry forces were evenly matched, the Wendigo could clearly see three knights excelling within the fray.

They cut down wolf riders, broke through their lines, and…

“That one is the King of Manheimr. Kill him!”

“I know without you telling me!”

They wheeled around and charged not at the wolf riders again but directly at the Wendigo. There was not a hint of hesitation in their actions.

They radiated an almost unnatural confidence and courage.

The Wendigo could easily discern the reason.

‘I sense an energy similar to Jermy’s.’

Just as Skadi wasn’t the only witch in the world, “heroes” with bodies stronger than ordinary humans weren’t limited to Jermy.

Three knights—no, aspiring heroes—charged toward the Wendigo.

* * *

Kuuuung!

“For vibrations to reach this deep underground… the battle above must be quite fierce.”

“Isn’t that obvious? But don’t worry too much. His Imperial Majesty has graciously dispatched knights he personally appointed.”

In the underground chambers of Dencan’s castle, two old men were conversing.

One, as befitting an elder of the clan, worried about the knights who had gone to battle, while the other dismissed the elder’s concerns with an arrogant air.

The old man with an elegantly groomed mustache stroked it as he addressed the elder:

“No matter how impressive a Djin might be, facing knights selected by His Majesty would be difficult. Thanks to being granted weapons of ancient heroes, their skills are worthy of being called heroic.”

“But Viscount Belgastin…”

“Ho ho, just because you’ve suffered consecutive defeats against your enemies, do you think we’ll fare the same?”

Imperial Emperor’s confidant, Viscount Belgastin, frowned and glared at the elder. The elder bit his lip, suppressing his burning anger.

‘These bastards… they finally move their lazy bodies when they sense the clan weakening, and yet they have such loose tongues!’

It was an open secret that Dencan received support from the Imperial Emperor. It was a rumor that had circulated even before Dario was detained, so it was hardly a secret.

However, the Emperor had only provided weapons and resources. The fact that he sent troops only after the clan was backed into a corner made his intentions obvious.

The Emperor clearly wanted to weaken Dencan’s power and establish a clear hierarchy to ensure submission.

Otherwise, there would be no reason to dispatch someone like Viscount Belgastin, whom the elder wanted to tear apart.

When the elder remained silent, swallowing his anger, Viscount Belgastin smiled maliciously and asked:

“I apologize. My inability to lie makes me too direct. Are you perhaps angry at my words?”

“…Not at all. How could we harbor resentment toward His Majesty who sent precious knights for our sake? I was merely curious about how impressive these knights sent by His Majesty are.”

The elder threw bait to divert Belgastin’s attention elsewhere. Sycophants who cling to power typically enjoy discussing the strength possessed by their patrons.

Sure enough, Viscount Belgastin took the bait. He praised the Emperor in a honeyed voice:

“His Imperial Majesty has always wanted to recreate the grandeur of the ancient empire. Indeed, who but a superman like His Majesty could revive the majesty of the ancient empire on this earth!”

The imperial emperors had always tried to pass the throne to their children. How thrilling would it be to make this vast territory their family’s possession?

Of course, the electors wouldn’t allow such a thing. When an emperor dreaming of absolute power appeared, the electors would unite to depose him.

So to inherit the imperial throne, military power to subdue the electors was essential…

In that sense, the current Emperor was quite fortunate.

With the return of the gods causing great changes in the world, heroes of common birth began to appear.

Most nobles, fearing these commoners with special powers would overthrow the existing power structure, tried to kill them, but the Emperor focused on recruiting them.

He knew from mythology that heroes killed the powerful and seized power not because they resented social injustice, but because they were denied privileges.

The Emperor’s judgment was correct. Commoners with powerful abilities became nobles with the Emperor’s help, and they became his loyal knights.

The nobles, shocked by this radical approach, also began recruiting heroes, but they couldn’t match the numbers of the Emperor, who had already recruited many world-ignorant heroes.

The Emperor deployed these heroes as needed to increase the number of loyal nobles, and the heroes dispatched this time belonged to that category.

“Three heroes have been dispatched for your sake. Hafen the Giant, Dave the Black Hawk, and Lance the Golden…”

Hafen the Giant stood over 2 meters tall and was strong enough to kill a bear with his bare hands.

His tendency to harm people over minor misunderstandings due to his dullness was troublesome, but since a hero’s pride was in killing people well, it wasn’t a significant drawback.

Dave the Black Hawk was a black-haired man with excellent spear skills and quick movements, making enemies die without realizing they’d been stabbed.

His habit of picking fights and killing people—perhaps due to suffering because of his hair color—was a flaw, but his skills made up for it.

Finally, Lance the Golden was one of the Emperor’s most cherished heroes.

With his handsome face, magnanimous personality, and brilliant golden hair, he was slated to lead the Golden Cavalry the Emperor was planning.

Though his skills were mediocre compared to the other two, there was no better figurehead. His slight womanizing was a flaw, but there’s a saying about heroes being womanizers, so…

“What do you think? Quite reliable, aren’t they?”

“Hahaha…”

The clan elder couldn’t help but laugh at such a long-winded description of what were essentially overnight success stories of ruffians.

Yet the harsh reality was that they had to rely on these ruffians.

The elder forced a smile, trying to humor Viscount Belgastin, when…

Suddenly, with a tremor, dirt showered down from the ceiling. Belgastin, who happened to be directly below, spat out the soil that entered his mouth and raged:

“What the… ptui! How shoddily was this basement constructed for dirt to fall like this from mere vibrations! I wasn’t going to say this, but—”

“Wait, I don’t think the dirt is falling because of vibrations!”

“…What?”

When the elder interrupted with an alarmed expression, Viscount Belgastin frowned and looked up at the ceiling.

The elder was right. Belgastin was startled to see plant roots forcing their way between the ceiling bricks.

There was no time to ask what they were. More dirt and bricks showered down as the ceiling collapsed.

The basement instantly became chaotic with dust.

The viscount coughed and looked up. If the ceiling had indeed collapsed, he expected to see the sun in the sky.

But what the viscount saw wasn’t the sun. The last thing he saw was something falling toward him.

“What is that—”

CRASH!

The viscount never realized what was falling on him.

The Wendigo looked down curiously at the wet sensation beneath his feet. The viscount, with his waist broken, lay dead under his feet with a blank expression.

“Judging by his appearance, he doesn’t look like a northerner… must be an Imperial. Since he was hiding underground, he must be an enemy. No harm in his death.”

“Y-you! How did you get here?!”

As the dust settled, the clan elder pointed at the Wendigo in shock.

Instead of answering, the Wendigo threw what he was holding at the elder.

A large knight with his arm torn off, a black-haired knight with ice arrows piercing his limbs, and a golden-haired knight with his face torn…

The elder collapsed at the sight of these corpses.

“The blond knight told me. Information he got by seducing a noblewoman of the castle… I didn’t expect it to be true.”

“……”

The elder looked at the dead Viscount Belgastin with contempt. Had he really just introduced such a lustful dog to him as a hero?

The elder wished he could resurrect Belgastin just to kill him with his own hands.

The Wendigo decided to send the elder to join Viscount Belgastin.

“Any last words?”

“…I’ll commend you for finding this place earlier than expected. But it’s already too late. Lord Dencan—”

“You talk too much. Go join that man you were glaring at so intently.”

Finding the elder more talkative than expected, the Wendigo showed his annoyance by striking him with his hand, smashing him against the wall.

Unlike the knights fighting for their lives outside, there was no respect to be shown to an elder hiding underground.