NOVEL WEB Ch. 78
Chapter 78: The Old Man of the Snowy Mountain. (1)
Atop a high ridge overlooking the Ruslan Fortress.
In this quiet place, more than a dozen people in white robes sat, looking down below.
Their partially exposed faces and hands were covered in mysterious tattoos.
As they held their breath and silently observed the Ruslan Fortress—
“Khugh!”
“Damn it...”
Blood suddenly trickled down from the noses of two or three people standing nearby, staining the white snow and their clothes red.
Then, the old man standing in the middle of the group, with a beard long enough to touch the ground, frowned and pulled out a telescope from his robes, gazing into the distance.
In his view, the corpse of the Cyclops that had been pierced through lay staining the ground blue.
“Hoho, that bastard... was shot down accurately from this distance.”
As expected, was it because of Princess Medeia?
The old man stroked his beard and nodded.
‘The first button was sewn on wrong.’
He had thought it would be enough, but unfortunately, it wasn’t.
The old man shut his eyes tightly and let out a sigh.
The time he had predicted for the fall of the Ruslan Fortress had long since passed.
If they delayed any longer, it would be enough to upset their client.
“Hmmm... What should I do with this matter?”
As the old man pondered, the men standing beside him cautiously asked,
“Guru, shall we prepare another Cyclops? It might take a bit of time, but...”
“How about replacing it with something else...?”
The old man shook his head and replied with a bitter smile.
“There’s no need to give time to a cornered rat.”
“...Are you planning to use that right away?”
“That’s the plan.”
Using a bear-hunting weapon to catch a rat, was it?
The old man took out a gem emitting a dark red light from his robes.
The hand holding the gem turned black, and so did the area around his eyes and arms.
The white-robed men's faces grew tense as they watched this, and some began swallowing dryly.
“Everyone, prepare the ritual.”
“Yes.”
At the old man’s command, the men quickly bit their fingertips and began drawing a crimson magic circle in the snow with the blood that seeped out.
By the time the circle was complete—
Thud!
More than a dozen people sat around it at regular intervals.
Sitting at the center, the old man tightly gripped the dark red stone and spoke.
“Let’s begin. We’ll throw those bastards... a grand party.”
“Yes.”
In that moment, everyone closed their eyes and brought their hands together as if in prayer.
“Beramahahomnia...”
“...Lanamildacost Mileo.”
From their mouths flowed strange words in a language unknown.
Then...
Crackle! Crackle-crack!
Light burst forth from the magic circle, and sparks began to fly atop it. Crimson-black cracks spread across the faces of the old man and his disciples, making their bodies tremble.
A disturbing and grotesque sight.
As the light from the magic circle reached its peak—
“Krughk!”
The old man opened his mouth wide and shoved the dark red stone into it.
It looked almost like a bizarre performance, with his jaw opening so wide it seemed about to rip apart.
Eventually, the stone passed fully down his throat, and scarlet light beamed from his eyes... his beard and white robe whipped violently in the wind.
The letters inscribed on the magic circle began spinning chaotically, and from its center, dozens—hundreds—of thin red lines stretched out in every direction.
The old man closed his eyes for a moment.
“Huuuuuh... Yes, yes... I can feel it.”
His body quivered, and his consciousness and senses became connected to the hundreds of lines.
The crimson-black lines became his eyes and ears, transmitting countless pieces of information from everywhere they passed.
And as this power stretched across the snowy plains...
Grrrrraaaaah!
Rrrrrrrgh...
Like zombies rising from their graves, the Frost Ghouls began to lift themselves up in droves.
That wasn't all.
The moment the monsters near the red lines' paths were exposed to the aura—
“Wanderers who have lost their way, come unto me...”
The old man muttered.
Kyeeehh?
Krrruuuuugh...
Ice Hogs, White Fangs, Scar Bears, and even Cyclopes.
Crimson-black energy swirled in the monsters' eyes, their faces contorted, and their bodies twisted grotesquely.
It was as if they had been possessed by evil spirits.
As the dense red aura spread from the magic circle like a spiderweb across the entire Ruslan Mountains—
“Huoooh!”
Flash!
The old man’s eyes snapped open, now fully dyed in blood-red as though soaked in blood.
His skin appeared firmer, and his appearance had transformed, looking decades younger.
As he grinned slyly, sharp, shark-like fangs were revealed between his lips.
It was a stark contrast to his previously toothless and ghastly appearance.
The old man clenched his fist tightly.
“Now, let’s go. We’ll trample that princess and that fortress.”
Then...
Ruuuuumble!
The ground throughout the Ruslan Mountains began to shake, and the once clear sky was quickly overrun with storm clouds.
---
Atop the Ruslan Fortress’s wall, people were gathered en masse.
To the left stood Princess Medeia, Benjamin, and the fortress knights at the forefront.
To the right stood Hardin, Malion, and the Maw Mercenaries, facing them.
The first to speak was Princess Medeia.
“Hardin, what is going on here?”
“Isn’t it obvious? Someone tried to wreck the fortress, and I stopped it.”
Hardin grinned and patted his chest with his palm.
At that, Benjamin, standing nearby, furrowed his brow deeply and glared at Hardin as he asked,
“How did you predict it?”
“Come on, isn’t it obvious? After months of constant attacks suddenly stopped... Nine times out of ten, it means there’s a trap.”
“You’re saying someone is controlling the monsters’ attacks?”
“What else would it be?”
Hardin countered as if it were only natural.
‘Someone’s targeting us?’
Benjamin and the fortress knights’ eyes trembled.
‘Could it be...’
‘Is that what’s happening.’
They had all vaguely felt it in their hearts.
Why had this happened just as Princess Medeia arrived at the fortress?
Why had the blizzard raged nonstop all day, and why had the supplies sent from the Imperial Capital never arrived, not even once?
They had all sensed something was off, but hadn’t dared voice it. Now, with Hardin’s words, those suspicions surfaced all at once.
As confusion deepened across everyone’s faces, Benjamin asked again,
“Who the hell is it? And why would they do something like this?”
“Well, I wouldn’t know. It’s not like I’m a fortune teller or anything...”
Hardin shrugged and turned his head slightly as he continued.
“But I’d guess Her Highness knows more than I do.”
“…”
The moment their eyes met, Medeia turned her gaze aside and slightly moved her lips.
She looked like she had something to say, but didn’t want to say it.
Sensing the mood, Benjamin scratched the back of his head roughly and spoke in a rush.
“Princess Medeia. D-do you think we should move quickly, even now?”
“You mean... escape the fortress?”
“Yes. A Cyclops may have appeared, but there’s been no other sign so far. Before the monsters gather again, we should make a decision…”
The knights nodded in agreement with Benjamin’s suggestion.
“I think we should follow Vice-Captain Benjamin’s advice as well.”
Was it desperation, or the weight of the situation?
Everyone’s voices now carried a sense of urgency.
Then Hardin spoke up.
“Well, I wouldn’t recommend that.”
“What do you mean?”
“If the enemies know exactly what we’re thinking, and we crawl out of the fortress now, it’s basically telling them ‘come and eat us.’ You only need to think a little to realize it’s a trap.”
“...But still.”
Benjamin and the knights' expressions darkened.
“Then what do you suggest? That we hole up in this fortress?”
“Staying put doesn’t guarantee a solution either, does it? But we need to try something…”
As anxiety washed over the knights and their faces stiffened, Hardin leisurely scratched his chin.
“Well. If we do that, not just the refugees, but we’d all probably get wiped out in one sweep.”
“And how can you say that so confidently?”
“Just feels like the kind of thing our opponent would do.”
Sorry, but in my previous life... this isn’t my first time dealing with this sort of thing.
Though Hardin’s face brimmed with confidence, that was all.
“…”
Even Princess Medeia, Malion behind her, and the faces of the Maw Mercenaries still bore expressions of confusion and doubt.
‘Brother, what are you thinking?’
‘Shouldn’t we be following the knights’ advice right now?’
‘It seems like the sooner we get out, the better...’
As the stalemate continued—
Ruuuuumble!
Suddenly, the ground began to shake.
“W-what was that?”
“This is...”
Just as everyone blinked in surprise—
Hardin grinned and looked over the wall.
“See? Told you I was right.”
Everyone turned their eyes past the fortress wall, and soon, they saw a thick, white mist rolling in from the snowy plains.
“An avalanche?”
“That’s...”
Just as confusion took hold of their faces, Princess Medeia shut her eyes tightly, then opened them, speaking in a low voice.
“It’s a monster wave.”
“…”
Perhaps because of those words—
Everyone finally noticed what was charging beneath the avalanche.
Kiiieeehk! Kiehk!
Keh-heh-hehhng!
At the very front were hundreds of Ice Hogs, with White Fangs racing alongside them.
Grrraaaaaah...
Easily over a thousand Frost Ghouls filled their vision.
Kiehhk!
Mixed among them were three Cyclopes identical to the one Princess Medeia had shot down moments ago.
“…”
“Wh...what...?”
Everyone suddenly froze in place like stone.
The scene before them was utterly overwhelming.
At that moment, Princess Medeia shouted urgently.
“Everyone to defensive positions! Regroup at the west wall!”
“Daaamn it!”
“Defensive formation! Defensive formation! Assemble at the west wall!”
Tatadak!
The knights scattered in all directions, gathering the soldiers.
Soldiers from the other walls began rushing toward the western wall.
At that moment, a terrifying thought flashed through Medeia’s mind.
‘If the wall had collapsed...’
If it weren’t for Hardin’s countermeasures, those monsters would’ve stormed into the fortress without any resistance.
The mere thought of it sent chills down her spine, goosebumps erupting all over her body.
“Uuh... wh-what is this...”
“This is insane.”
The faces of the soldiers who had now gathered and finally saw past the wall turned deathly pale.
“Mom, the ground’s shaking.”
“Elin! Come over here quickly!”
The refugees, terrified, had huddled into the corners of the fortress, clinging tightly to one another and shivering with fear.
“Knights, target the Ice Hogs and Cyclopes first! Delay them so the walls don’t get breached!”
“Yes!”
As forces were swiftly repositioned,
Medeia paused for a moment, gazing intently toward the top of the tall mountain where the Cyclops had stood.
She couldn’t see it, but she could definitely feel it.
A powerful energy was radiating from behind that mountain, spreading outward in all directions.
‘Something’s... going on over there.’
At that moment, someone poked her shoulder with a fingertip.
She turned her head, and there stood Hardin, grinning as he said,
“Princess, why don’t you and I handle a little job together?”
“...What are you talking about?”
“You know what I mean.”
Hardin’s gaze shifted toward the mountaintop.
‘So he’s sensed it too.’
It was clear—he meant to go after whoever was behind the mountain.
But...
Kieeehk!
Thousands of monsters were surging in.
Just looking at them made it hard to breathe.
‘If I leave my post, this fortress...’
Medeia’s face twisted as she replied,
“I can’t go.”
“Why not?”
“If I’m not here, this fortress will fall.”
Just then, as Medeia slightly bowed her head and bit her lower lip—
“What do you mean by that?”
Benjamin, standing nearby, narrowed his eyes and asked.
“Brother, are you... are you planning to leave the fortress?”
Malion asked, mouth agape as he looked at Hardin.
Hardin answered in a relaxed tone, as if there was no other choice.
“What’s the point of sitting here doing nothing? I figure it’s better to try something than to just wait for death.”
A voice filled with conviction.
Everyone’s expressions grew grave at once. At that moment, Medeia spoke again.
“No. If you do that... this fortress is finished.”
If she were to take such action, the chain of command would collapse, and a hole would be punched into their fighting strength.
It would be no different from a suicide mission.
As a commander, it was the one thing she must never do.
Medeia repeated this to herself, trying to steel her resolve. But then Hardin casually dropped a line.
“Wow, you really don’t trust your subordinates, do you.”
“What?”
“Well, isn’t that what it is? You won’t leave because you don’t trust your people.”
“What would you know about that?”
“What I know? That even without the princess... the fine folks here can at least hold this fortress.”
Hardin walked up to Vice-Captain Benjamin and clapped a hand on his shoulder, causing Medeia’s brow to furrow deeply.
‘...That mouth of his.’
She lightly trembled as her fingers toyed with the bracelet on her wrist—one that had belonged to her great-aunt.
That man knows nothing.
Nothing of the weight of command.
What would happen if Medeia left her post now...
Just as her eyes swirled with uncertainty, Benjamin, as if mulling something over, shut his eyes tight for a moment before opening them and speaking in a grave voice.
“Princess.”
“...?”
“If you go out there... can you end this?”
“…”
For an instant, Medeia’s eyes trembled.
But Benjamin, seeming unfazed, continued with a look of confidence.
“If that’s something you can do, if it’s truly possible—leave it to us. I... we will protect this fortress.”
Hardin grinned and said,
“See? I told you they could handle it.”
Medeia looked at Benjamin and the knights with a complex expression, then let out a shallow sigh. She clenched her fist tightly and spoke again.
“...Hardin Daphne.”
“Yes?”
“Tell me. What exactly do I need to do now?”
Determination began to shine across everyone’s faces.