episode_0118

Chewing on a soggy piece of bread soaked in river water to replenish our strength, we crossed the broken bridge and the collapsed fortress walls, stepping into the interior of the bandit’s lair.

Crunch.

Frozen weeds crumbled underfoot, and small gravel and ice shards clung to our toes, flicking away as we walked.

The scattered gravel struck rusted and shattered armor pieces, producing faint metallic sounds, while the cold wind howled through the debris, creating a mournful sound reminiscent of an eerie melody.

Indeed, it seemed fitting to call this place ruins.

Up close, the scenery of the bandit’s lair felt more desolate and ancient, rather than the grandeur one might expect from afar.

To be honest, it had an atmosphere that seemed perfect for ghosts to appear. With just a camera, it could easily double as a set for a horror movie.

Of course, if one were to bring a camera and a film crew, instead of a set for a horror movie, it would likely become the scene of a terrible disaster.

“……”

Following my advice, Freide drew the holy sword, her nerves taut, while I retrieved a vial of holy oil from my hip bag and applied it to the blade.

Similar to the holy water, it was an expendable item containing the blessing of the goddess, effective against undead foes. While holy water was overwhelmingly effective for resisting curses or as a weapon to throw, when considering a long-term solution, it was necessary to use holy oil instead of holy water.

Well, that’s obvious. It’s like the difference between water and oil.

Inexperienced adventurers often poured holy water onto their blades, but I had never seen such individuals survive for long.

Logically, if you apply water to a blade and swing it, would the water remain? Of course not; it would splash everywhere and dissipate.

What should be applied to a blade is oil, not water.

Of course, oil also has the disadvantage of slightly dulling the blade, but if the situation calls for applying holy oil to a sword, it’s not the time to worry about sharpness.

After properly applying the holy oil to the blade, we continued walking along the desolate path for about five minutes when…

“Oops…! Miss Hilde!”

Freide, who shook her shoulders like a rabbit meeting its natural enemy, urgently turned to look at me and leaped up, swinging her greatsword.

Behind my head, a golden line cut through the empty space diagonally.

Kaaah!

In the next moment, the blade of the greatsword, which should have clearly cut through only the empty space, clashed with something, producing a clear echo.

“Huh…?! What… strength…!”

Startled by the opponent’s strength, Freide groaned and was thrown back. I quickly turned my body to catch Freide and looked up into the empty space.

“Lifandi…manneskju….”

Just a moment ago, there was nothing in the empty space. A black and blue entity was floating there, looking down at us.

A woman in armor with translucent long hair. No, should I say a being that used to be a woman?

She might have been somewhat beautiful in her lifetime, but even now, no one would call that thing a human being.

With wing decorations on both sides of her helmet, and only the lower part of her face visible under the metal plate.

“Huhhhh….”

It opened its mouth and let out a faint breath.

A grayish breath flowed out like mist. Inside the translucent lower part of the helmet made of ice, from within the clearly visible skull.

Yes. The enemy in front of us seemed to have a form covered in flesh made of ice over a human skeleton.

Even if the ice part had the appearance of a beautiful woman, it wouldn’t look human. Because the inside – no, the bones were clearly visible due to the ice’s extreme transparency.

Unless you’re a bone enthusiast, there’s no way you’d find that attractive or exciting.

Well, maybe you could feel excited. Not sexually, but perhaps due to anticipation or a sense of danger.

“…As expected, it exists.”

I lifted Freide straight up without taking my eyes off the enemy.

“Uh, th-thank you for catching me, Hillde.”

“No, I should be thanking you. I really didn’t notice anything.”

It was sincere.

If it weren’t for Freide’s , which provided almost precognitive intuition limited to combat situations, I would have been completely oblivious and nearly had my head pierced.

By the spear wielded by the ice-fleshed knight.

“Endless… cold….”

The undead ice mage, who had been floating in the air, aimed her staff at us and muttered something.

Thanks to Brundhilld’s brain, even though it wasn’t the kingdom’s common language, I could roughly understand what she meant.

At first, she clearly said “to die.” And now she muttered “endless cold.”

With no context in her words and being unable to pronounce more than two words, her vocabulary seemed truly dismal, befitting an undead. I wondered if her brain was still inside that helmet.

No, as a creature closer to a specter than a being with a body, it seemed unlikely that her brain remained.

“Miss Hilde, is that…?”

Friede asked, clutching the holy sword, looking at me for confirmation.

“Yes, that thing I mentioned earlier. The sentinels guarding this fortress… No, the sentinels.”

I nodded, raising the sword anointed with holy oil. I kept my eyes on the undead ice mage, who held a lance, slightly tilting her head.

A winged helmet covering her nose and ornate plate armor engraved with intricate designs.

The full-body armor, with chains added at the joints of the plates, was excessively ornate, almost to the point of extravagance, especially designed for women.

A breastplate that boldly emphasized the curves of the waist and chest, and a cape fluttering like wings behind the back.

In the center of the protruding chest part, a strange pattern was engraved on a humming triangular metal plate emitting a chilling magical red light.

That, what was it again… a runic integrated circuit board?

In theory, it was probably a magical power source that emitted magic on its own, similar to a magician’s grimoire, and served as the power source of the armor.

Yes, in her lifetime, it must have served such a purpose. Now, it was nothing more than a shackle binding their souls within this ruin.

“To manipulate the souls of the dead into specters… It’s terribly wicked.”

Friede expressed disdain, furrowing her brow. Her face showed clear disapproval, as if it were an act only fit for a vile priest or sorcerer.

“Oh, that, that’s not to insult Miss Hilde’s lineage, I mean…”

Of course, realizing that saying so would be like cursing my ancestors, I tried to hurriedly make excuses.

“No need to backtrack. I think the same way. So, it’s ruined for nothing, isn’t it? They’re truly despicable.”

I slightly shook my head and replied that there was no need for an apology. From my perspective, those old Einschteinians were indeed the worst of the worst.

Considering the fact that they perished at the hands of the heroes of that time, they were no different from the abyss priests or demons.

Nowadays, aside from Freide, those so-called heroes are nothing but a bunch of morally deficient lunatics, but the heroes of old were true heroes in both deeds and character.

“Anyway, we just need to bring them down, right?”

“More precisely, those things. The undead, it probably won’t end with just one.”

My memory is a bit hazy, but there might be around ten in total. No, was it twenty?

The original work often omitted details, so I was a bit unsure.

Well, whether it’s ten or twenty, it doesn’t really matter. Either way, since they’re enemies that need to be thoroughly eradicated as they emerge from within this fortress.

Ignoring the untouchable Valfreya, we’ll just take down all of them and collect the loot before making our escape.

That’s the proper way to make use of this hidden piece.

Unlike the esteemed Valfreya, these beings weren’t sealed; they’ve fallen into wraiths after death, so they are significantly weaker than they were in life.

Except for Valfreya, the rest can be dealt with by just me and Freide.

According to the possessed character in the original novel, it was a dungeon designed with that intention from the start.

Mixing mediocre foes with absurd boss monsters, it’s a trap dungeon that misleads players about its difficulty, leading them to awaken the boss and perish.

Whoever designed it had a truly malicious structure. Perhaps they were someone who excessively worshipped the idea of “if you don’t know, you die.”

“So, what was the name of that thing again? Valci? What was it called…?”

Valkyria. No, should I call them the specters of Valkyria? They were the knights of my lineage. Just like me.

The messengers of the battlefield led by Valfreyja, the Valkyria of Eisenstein.

Knights of the ice heart.

“Hatursfull hetja, Kvenhetja…!”

For a while, the Valkyria, who had been silently looking down at us, finally seemed to make up her mind as she raised her spear over her shoulder, revealing intense hatred upon seeing Freyja.

Like the ancestral spear techniques of Eisenstein, she contained the power of steel within the grasped spear.

The statement “Just like me” was not a metaphor but a solemn truth. The Valkyries, like those of Brunhilde, were knights with hearts of ice and steel.

No, strictly speaking, they are the originals. Brunhilde inherited their characteristics in a similar manner to genetic inheritance.

“Be careful! Here it comes!”

In the next moment, the flying spear of ice exploded, tearing through the ground like a flash.

With the resounding boom, the shattered shards of ice swept around, completely overturning everything. It was literally a projectile-like force—no, it was a projectile itself.