Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 79: The Old Man of the Snowy Mountain. (2)

Ruslan Mountain Range area.

Just moments ago, the sky had been clear, but now dark clouds began to gather again, and the snow thickened, slowly scattering through the air.

 Kkiieeeek!

 Chwijijik! Chwijijik!

On the steep snowfield, thousands of monsters thundered across the ground.

Snow from the ground scattered and formed a fog-like shape, giving the illusion from afar that an avalanche was crashing down.

“Fire, fireee!”

“Damn it… Bring all the arrows! Now!”

“If it’s heavy, bring it all! Stack it behind the wall!”

“Yes, sir!”

At that moment, inside Ruslan Fortress.

Soldiers and knights... even refugees were mobilized to prepare for battle, desperately stacking everything they could behind the half-crumbled wall to prevent its collapse.

One side trying to smash the fortress, the other trying to defend it.

While the distance between the two sides gradually closed—

Taaat!

Two shadows leapt over the wall.

...

With silver hair fluttering, Princess Medeia dashed forward in a low stance, gripping a bastard sword with both hands pointed downward...

“Alright then, let’s goooo.”

Hardin Daphne stepped out in large strides, resting his longsword on his shoulder.

As the two of them charged side by side toward the horde of monsters, Hardin glanced slightly sideways.

‘She’s nervous.’

Despite her expressionless face, Princess Medeia’s subtle tension and concern were blatantly evident.

Hardin let out a sharp breath through his nose and said,

“Your Highness.”

“What is it.”

“Let’s keep calm. The fortress will be fine.”

“Are you being optimistic, or just thoughtless.”

While Medeia’s expression stiffened at the approaching wave of monsters, Hardin instead raised the corners of his mouth and said,

“Hasn’t Your Highness ever heard that the best defense is a good offense?”

“...Nonsense.”

At that moment, the distance between them and the monsters shrank to just a few steps.

 Kkieeeek!

 Chwijijijik!

The leading Ice Hogs thrust their sharp, blue-glowing tusks forward with great force.

Kwaaazzzik!

Hardin and Medeia’s sword strikes simultaneously drew blue arcs through the air.

 Kkieeeek!

The Ice Hog blocking Princess Medeia’s path was sliced vertically in half, spraying blue blood in every direction.

Kwachik!

“Well now, that’s quite flashy.”

When Hardin’s blade sliced lightly between another Ice Hog’s brows, its eyes rolled back and its legs gave out, sending it tumbling forward.

 Kkieeeek!

“Hyat-cha!”

Thud! Thump!

Hardin stepped on the tumbling creature like a snowball and vaulted over it.

“Let’s hurry up.”

Taaat!

With the sound of earth being stomped, the figures of the two plunged into the horde of monsters.

 Kkieeeek!

 Kururururur!

The bodies of the Frost Ghouls turned to powder and scattered endlessly into the air.

The Ice Hogs collapsed here and there, obstructing the monsters' advance.

Amidst the horde, an uninterrupted flurry of sword strikes continued—Hardin immersed in his trance-like flow—while Medeia’s eyes kept darting toward his movements below.

“Uratchachacha!”

Without a single wasted motion, using only the bare minimum of swordplay, Hardin cut down the monsters.

‘How the hell is he…’

The mana emanating from his body was far below the average level of the knights under Medeia’s command, and even his physique didn’t appear to be particularly trained.

Knight to knight, by all objective standards, Hardin should be utterly inferior to Medeia.

…That should have been the case.

It should have been the natural order and law of things, and yet, Hardin was keeping pace with Medeia without falling behind in the slightest.

‘No, in fact… he’s ahead.’

Starting from when he sliced through the boulder hurled by the Cyclops… to pinpointing the exact path of the javelin, and even creating waves with his sword.

All of it blurred Princess Medeia’s judgment.

Just then, while swinging his sword, Hardin shouted,

“Get your head straight. We need to start finding the path soon.”

“…”

Medeia silently nodded.

By the time the number of monsters they had slain surpassed a hundred—

Time seemed to slow for a moment… and in Hardin’s eyes, faint crimson particles drifted toward them.

So subtle and alien a force that others couldn’t even perceive its presence.

But Hardin… he knew exactly what that power was.

His eyebrow twitched, and he quickly turned his head and shouted,

“This way!”

Taat!

Then he leapt forward, bounding atop the heads of the incoming monsters, using them as stepping stones.

Medeia, seeing this, followed right after him across the top.

They sprinted for several dozen meters, heading northwest.

“Jump!”

Hardin stomped hard on the head of an Ice Hog.

 Kkieeeek!

The excited beast flung its head upward with a sharp jerk, launching Hardin’s body forward like a cannonball—and Medeia’s as well.

As the two soared into the sky—

“Let’s goooo!”

“…”

When Medeia looked down, the vast monster horde below came into sharp view, and she instinctively swallowed hard.

Taat!

Soon, the two of them landed in an arc on a steep hill.

“This way!”

“…”

The moment he landed, Hardin sprinted up the mountain, while Medeia followed behind, casting anxious glances back at the fortress.

Seeing this, Hardin shook his head in frustration.

“Ah, there you go again with your paranoia.”

“What are you talking about.”

“I told you, the fortress can hold out just fine.”

“And how can you guarantee that…”

It was then.

 Kkieeeek!

 Guoooh!

The monstrous shrieks from behind made Medeia instinctively turn her head sideways.

And then her eyes widened in shock.

‘That is…’

At the very front of the monster wave, Ice Hogs were charging wildly.

 Ggueeeek!

 Kkieeek!

They were being sucked into a long, horizontal trench dug in front of the fortress.

At the bottom of it, sharpened wooden spikes had been planted.

Kwajijik! Kwajik!

The spikes pierced through the bodies of the Ice Hogs, killing them instantly.

 Ggueeek!

 Kkieek!

Monsters following behind tried to halt their advance to avoid falling into the trench, but those behind them shoved them forward, pushing them straight into the trap.

As this repeated, the monsters became tangled and piled up around the trench.

“Fire! Fiiire!”

“Reduce their numbers as much as possible!”

From the fortress, the defenders seized the opportunity and launched a barrage of arrows and throwing spears.

“Where do you think you're going!”

“You’re not getting through!”

Kwajik! Kwajik!

Some of the Maw mercenaries even rushed to the front lines to hold back the advancing monsters.

 Kkieek! Ggueeeek!

A long mountain of corpses started forming around the trench.

It naturally became a wall-like barrier, and although the monsters tried to climb over it somehow—

Each time, they were riddled with arrows and spears, spilling blue blood everywhere.

‘That…’

As Medeia’s eyes filled with shock, Hardin said,

“See? I told you—it all works out somehow.”

“…”

A look of disbelief and confusion settled on Medeia’s face as she stared at Hardin’s back.

---

At that moment, atop the fortress wall.

“Ahahahaha! How do you like that, you bastards! Taste the genius traps designed by none other than Mikkelsen!”

Excited by the performance of the traps he built, Mikkelsen boldly pointed his middle finger beyond the wall and shouted triumphantly.

Of course, the Maw mercenaries watching from behind him…

“Quit fooling around and throw another spear!”

“Anyone watching would think he built it all by himself!”

“Eyy! Give credit where it’s due, come on!”

They shouted as they ceaselessly fired arrows and hurled spears.

Watching the Maw mercenaries while throwing his own spear, Benjamin felt as though he were dreaming.

‘What the hell are these guys.’

Not only had they anticipated the fortress's collapse and prepared in advance, but they even set up traps like that?

And on top of that…

‘These guys aren’t new to battle.’

Compared to themselves, the people of Daphne had far lower levels of mana and physical conditioning.

Most tellingly, their movements revealed that they hadn’t properly trained in swordsmanship.

Even so, despite being like that, they were now playing a greater role than anyone else.

Their movements showed not only precise coordination and swift judgment, but above all, they displayed no fear in a crisis where being annihilated on the spot wouldn’t have been surprising. They moved without hesitation.

Of course, the source of that courage was…

‘Aooohh, how long are we supposed to keep doing this crap!’

‘Right after getting dragged in, it was a territorial war, then the Kreveion subjugation, and now… a monster wave!?’

‘Isn’t this seriously too much!?’

…all thanks to being mercilessly drilled by Hardin.

Among them, what stood out especially to Benjamin was…

“Hey, let me use that boulder too!”

“Uh, sure.”

“Uratchachachacha!”

Beryl, who hurled anything he could get his hands on to shoot down monsters. (In fact, everyone nearby thought Beryl looked more like a monster than the monsters themselves.)

And—

“Refugees! Move the children and elderly to the back, and the rest of you grab arrows and anything throwable—get them up to the wall! Move it!”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

Malion, running everywhere giving instructions to both refugees and soldiers.

‘If it weren’t for those guys…’

Screeeeech! Kwajik!

 Kkieeeek!

Benjamin hurled a spear, lodging it in the forehead of an Ice Hog, his clenched jaw tight with effort.

Princess Medeia’s words from earlier echoed in his mind.

 Benjamin, I’m leaving the fortress in your hands until I return.

 What? But that’s...

 I’ll come back. I swear it.

Truthfully… the moment Princess Medeia left the fortress, he thought it was over.

From the beginning, everyone in the fortress had moved around her as their center of gravity.

He believed they couldn’t possibly hold out on their own. He thought Princess Medeia was making a meaningless gamble.

But now, seeing the scene unfold before his eyes, something inside him began to stir.

‘We can do it. No—we must.’

That Princess Medeia would truly resolve the situation and return to the fortress.

That until then, they would hold this place.

Faint but glittering belief began to simmer within Lieutenant Benjamin’s chest.

Meanwhile…

 Kkieeeek!

Kuuung! Kuuung! Kuuung!

One Cyclops from the front barreled over the pile of corpses, charging violently toward the fortress.

The ground shook, and nearby monsters were trampled and flung aside by its advance.

It was an overwhelming sight just to look at.

And yet, somehow, he wasn’t afraid.

Srrring.

With trembling hands, Benjamin drew the longsword from his waist.

Then he stepped onto the fortress wall, gripped the sword tightly in both hands, and shouted.

“Uaaaahhhhhhhh!”

His eyes and blade emitted a bluish light.

And Benjamin charged straight toward the oncoming Cyclops.

From atop the magic circle, white-robed men with eyes burning bright red glared down the mountainside.

“Cough! Cough!”

“…Guru, the resistance is far greater than expected.”

Some among them coughed up blood, while others voiced their concerns.

And understandably so—Ruslan Fortress was taking much longer to fall than anticipated…

‘The princess… she’s coming this way.’

‘How the hell does she know our location?’

They had spotted Princess Medeia (and Hardin) rapidly climbing the mountainside below, heading directly toward them.

As long as the fortress was under attack, Princess Medeia wasn’t supposed to leave.

And those people down there weren’t supposed to hold off the monster wave for long without her.

That’s how it was supposed to go—but all those assumptions had crumbled.

Princess Medeia had abandoned the fortress and was charging up toward them… and Ruslan Fortress, even without her, was holding back the monster wave splendidly.

All of it—completely outside the predictions of the “Blackthorn Society.”

As the eyes of the demons rolled nervously—

“Do not waver. This, too, is but trial and training.”

“…F-Forgive us!”

An old man seated at the center of the magic circle stroked his beard and slowly rose to his feet.

Then, as he looked out at Medeia and Hardin rapidly approaching from afar, he sneered.

“The prey… walks willingly into the jaws of the beast.”

“Wouldn’t letting them come here be dangerous? Shouldn’t we redirect the monsters toward them now?”

“It’s fine.”

“But, Guru! This really isn’t the time for—”

One disciple turned to the old man with an anxious voice, but the old man glared at him with his blood-red eyes and spoke coldly,

“You talk too much. What is done or not done is for me to decide.”

As the old man stretched out his hand, a red light leaked from his fingertips—and the disciple’s body floated helplessly into the air.

“W-What? G-Guru? W-Why are you doing this?”

“This is… my lesson to you.”

The old man grinned viciously and clenched his palm.

Kwajijik!

“Gahurk!”

From the ground, dozens of dark red tentacles shot up and pierced straight through the disciple’s body.

“Kyaaaaaagh!”

The more the man struggled, the more bright red blood gushed from his body, pooling on the ground into a puddle.

“Ughhh…”

“Wh-What in the world is this…”

The other disciples, overcome with fear, lost strength in their legs as their bodies trembled uncontrollably.

“Foolish ones, do not doubt me.”

As the old man swiped his tightly clenched hand to the side—

Shraaack!

“Gyaaaaahhhhh!”

The body of the man pierced by tentacles was ripped apart, spraying a crimson mist of blood into the air as his dying scream echoed.

“…”

All color drained from the disciples’ faces.

Their bodies trembled beyond control, and one of them even wet themselves.

The old man looked down at them, shook his head with a face full of contempt, and pointed down the mountainside.

“Enough with those disgraceful expressions. Get up.”

“Y-Yes, sir!”

“Go down at once and personally welcome Her Highness the Princess.”

“U-Understood!”

At his command, the disciples standing around the magic circle quickly rushed down the slope.

‘Let’s see how long you can squirm, you half-wit princess.’

The old man’s face twisted into a lecherous grin as he watched the backs of the departing disciples.