Ch.66. The Wolf Crossing the Northern Mountains

“Are you saying you’ll wait?”

In response to my words, Skral let out a perplexed voice. To him, who was acting as if he hadn’t considered this at all, I answered indifferently.

“If the leader of the foreign tribe is who I think she is, Darius won’t hold out long and will come down from the ridge to wage another defensive battle in downtown Norsweden.”

[But if that happens, the safety of the citizens…]

“He won’t have the capacity to care about that.”

If he fails to stop the foreign tribe from crossing over, the entire family will be shaken.

For a family that has survived solely on military might, when that foundation is threatened, they’ll likely try to hold on by sucking even the lifeblood of citizens.

“He’ll be back soon. The only way to learn that what you thought was a ground dog is actually a wolf is to get bitten.”

Though I’d only observed him for a short period of three months, the Darius I saw wasn’t particularly great as a general.

He might become an excellent warrior, but he could never become an outstanding commander.

That type usually could never defeat someone with superior combat ability.

‘He will certainly return after his defeat.’

Until then, I would quietly wait and prepare my negotiation cards.

* * *

“Raise your shields! If we surrender this position, downtown Norsweden is next! Are the warriors of the North such fools that they can’t even protect their families?”

Darius’s rage-filled shout erupts. In normal times, the soldiers would have been thoroughly intimidated and promptly followed his orders.

But now, they didn’t even have the strength for that.

They had fully utilized the geographical advantage of the mountain ridge.

Even with some difference in weapon quality due to technological gaps, our magic was not at all inferior.

Our side had well-established roads from the village to the ridge, making supplies easy to deliver.

We weren’t short on personnel, and the soldiers hadn’t neglected their training.

The giants of the North, living on the frontier, had always trained their soldiers.

In terms of morale, there was no comparison. For the soldiers, if this line broke, their families’ homeland was right behind them.

They were fighting desperately to hold the line, but.

“Kuh!”

A sharp, dense smoke smell.

Not the gunpowder smell from the foreign tribe’s guns, but a harsh, strong tobacco scent.

A wolf-like woman charging down the snowy slope, exhaling not breath but tobacco smoke.

Her eyes were dyed a deep red, as if they had absorbed countless deaths.

Pak!

The raised axe precisely splits a Norsweden soldier in half like firewood. He slides down the mountainside, not even realizing he’s dead.

“She’s coming, she’s coming again!”

“The White Wolf is charging!”

Crunch.

“I’ll face her myself!”

With veins popping out from clenching his teeth so hard, Darius finally charged forward.

He couldn’t be dominated by that woman again.

As her coat tails fluttered past, only the harsh tobacco scent remained, as she extinguished all life while climbing the mountain.

Mana gathers at Darius’s feet as he runs downhill.

With each heavy step forward, surrounding trees shake as if screaming, shedding accumulated snow.

“Oh?”

The foreign tribe woman called the White Wolf, Findenai, spotted the man charging at her like a tank and pulled back her axe-wielding hand.

“Finally, you’ve graced us with your presence! Margrave Darius!”

“My name is not for your vulgar mouth to utter!”

Darius’s sword and Findenai’s axe clash.

Darius had the advantage in strength. Thinking he would kill Findenai with one strike, Darius continued pushing forward, but.

“Kuk kuk, just a muscle-bound nobody?”

“You wench!”

“I heard you became the family head recently? Too bad. All vigor but no experience.”

Findenai twisted her axe sideways to change its trajectory from the sword. Simultaneously, her body slid across the snow, evading Darius’s sword.

“Look how the blood’s rushed to your head. Fighting like that would get you killed in the Republic of Clark.”

“How dare you casually discuss my age and temperament. You’re clearly just a girl barely over twenty.”

“Hmm, I’m exactly twenty-seven. I just look young for my age.”

Findenai, tapping her shoulder with the back of her axe, exhales tobacco smoke and sneers.

“Still, I bet I have far more experience than you.”

“Nonsense! I’ve been holding a sword since I was ten, following my father and protecting these mountains. I’m not to be compared with foreign tribes like you!”

Darius, seething and gathering mana to cut in half the Findenai who had disrespected him.

The snow beneath his feet began to violently blow away.

“Yes, I suppose so. Since you were just 10, you’ve been hiding in safe outposts on mountain ridges, killing my people who were just trying to cross over to survive.”

“…”

“Young master pretending to be tough. That’s not called battle. It’s called hunting. No different from catching rabbits or foxes. You’re not a warrior, just a hunter.”

“I won’t tolerate any more insults.”

“Insults? You’re the one insulting. Lukewarm bastard mistaking massacre for battle.”

Thud.

Findenai spat out the tobacco she had been smoking. Her blood-red eyes were overflowing with burning killing intent.

“I’ve been desperately running since birth, and killing people to survive since I was 3 years old.”

Crack!

“Kugh!”

He couldn’t even track the flying axe with his eyes. The shoulder armor shattered as the axe embedded itself in Darius’s right shoulder.

“Kuuugh!”

The threatening mana that had been rising instantly scattered, hiding its form as it was pushed back by the cold.

Before Darius’s pain-stricken eyes, Findenai’s foot was already reaching his face.

Thwack!

A kick that accurately struck his face.

Darius’s body began to tilt backward.

But Findenai didn’t stop there.

From the space where she delivered her first blow, she spun her body and drove a back kick into his chest.

Crack!

With the sound of ribs breaking through his armor, Darius collapsed onto the cold snow.

“Kuh, ugh!”

The pain was so intense he couldn’t even breathe properly, let alone scream.

“Suits you perfectly.”

Findenai looked down at Darius as she pulled the axe from his shoulder.

“AAAAARGH!”

He screamed loud enough to shake the mountain, but Findenai just giggled as she wiped the blood from her axe with snow.

Behind her, another member of the foreign tribe who had followed her aimed a hunting rifle at Darius, but.

“That’s enough, let him go.”

“What? Leader, what do you mean?”

Mercy?

A mere foreign tribesperson showing me mercy?

People who lived like slaves in the Republic of Clark showing mercy to me, the Margrave of Griffin?

It felt like his insides were twisting, but Findenai had no intention of showing mercy.

“Keeping him alive prevents some other competent person from taking the Margrave position.”

“Ah.”

“…!”

Darius’s eyes became bloodshot. It felt like blood would rush to his head, but it only increased the bleeding from his shoulder.

“Lord Margrave, can you report that our line has been breached? The moment you do, your family will lose all the privileges they’ve enjoyed until now.”

“Grrrr!”

“I’ll spare your life. Think carefully. Will you request support for the kingdom, or will you keep silent for your family’s sake?”

Cackling, Findenai headed toward the outpost, leaving Darius trembling with humiliation as he watched her back.

The sky was pure white even without snow falling.

Only the dense tobacco scent remained beside Darius.

*

Exactly two days later.

Family head Darius returned to the mansion while bedridden.

His soldiers walked with heavy steps, heads bowed low, their expressions hidden by helmets—the very picture of a defeated army.

[Your foresight is truly remarkable.]

“…”

Skral exclaimed in admiration at how accurately my judgment had been, but to me it was so obvious that I felt nothing special.

The interior of the mansion became chaotic, and the citizens of Norsweden, having witnessed the return of the defeated soldiers, trembled in fear that the foreign tribe might come to plunder, demanding answers from our family.

I suppose it’s only natural since they paid taxes for times like this.

I take in the view of downtown Norsweden through the window. Though there’s commotion inside, not a single carriage is seen leaving.

“No one is leaving, I see.”

[The northerners have always been strongly attached to their homeland.]

Like icicles frozen to the ground, they had no thought of leaving despite the foreign tribe’s invasion, determined only to endure in place.

Urgent footsteps could be heard from outside. I turned my gaze from the window and put on my coat.

“Time to go out.”

Skral bowed deeply to see me off.

The door that had remained firmly shut except during meal times these past few days swung wide open.

It urged me to come out, as if demanding answers.