Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Chapter 80: The Old Man of the Snowy Mountain. (3)

 Kkuoooh!

Crash, crackle!

Hardin and Medeia climbed the steep mountainside, slashing their swords.

Behind them, monsters that had split off from the wave were chasing them, while in front, Frost Ghouls occasionally rose from the snow to block their path.

Of course...

“Out of the way, out of the way!”

Most of the monsters couldn’t even properly grab their ankles.

By the time the two had climbed about seventy percent of the mountain—

Hardin spoke with a deepened gaze.

“They’re coming.”

“…”

As Medeia nodded—

Fwapwapwap!

From the ridge above, six or seven shadows leapt down.

In that moment, Medeia’s eyes sharpened.

“Those are…”

Men clad in white robes.

Their eyes glowed red, and their faces were distorted with dark red veins like hideous scars.

Hardin curled the corner of his lips into a smirk.

‘Familiar faces.’

With a stinging sensation prickling his skin, a scent sickeningly sweet enough to cloud the mind pierced his nose.

The scent of Black Lotus.

If someone had that scent all over their body, there was only one type of being it could be.

‘Demonkind.’

Literally, beings who wielded demonic power.

Those who, in some form, had accepted demonic energy into their bodies to strengthen their original power—apostates.

Back in the days when Shagrath reigned, they were so numerous one could trip over them.

Depending on the powers they originally held, they went by grandiose titles like Dark Knight or Dark Mage, but...

To Hardin, they all looked the same.

‘Weaklings, all of them.’

Whatever the reason, the fact that they had turned to that power meant—at their core, they didn’t trust their own strength.

In the end, they were trash. Nothing more.

At that moment—

“Hyaaaahhh!”

“Gaaaargh!”

The Demonkind screamed in agony.

Their robes tore open from behind, and from within, dozens of tentacles burst forth.

Figures resembling upright spiders.

“They’re coming!”

At Hardin’s shout, Medeia picked up speed.

Nearly a hundred tentacles in total.

Hardin and Medeia dodged them with hair’s-breadth precision.

Boom! Boom!

Each time the tentacles struck the ground ahead, massive snow pillars rose vertically with deafening roars, closing the distance between them.

It was a fearsome power at a glance.

But Hardin, expressionless, said lightly—

“Let’s go straight through.”

“…”

Medeia gave a silent nod.

Almost simultaneously, several thin blue lines appeared in front of them.

Shraaaaak!

The dark red tentacles were shredded and scattered, staining the surrounding snowfield, and through the gaps they carved, the two slipped through and approached rapidly.

The Demonkind furrowed their brows.

“Iiieeek!”

They… blocked that?

What the hell are these people?

Just as the Demonkind were about to extend their tentacles again—

“Hyatcha.”

Hardin casually picked up a pebble lying at his feet and flicked his wrist to throw it.

Sreeeeek!

The pebble, glowing blue, flew fast.

Crackle!

“Agh!”

It burst one of the Demonkind’s heads open, sending the remaining body rolling down the mountainside.

The dark red energy that had enveloped the body dissipated, and the headless corpse painted a red streak across the snow.

The faces of the other nearby Demonkind twisted in shock.

“Y-You bastaaaards!”

Were they panicking? Or terrified?

They stumbled backward and extended their tentacles again.

The moment Hardin saw that brief hesitation, he let out a long sigh.

‘Amateurs.’

Very much so.

He knew well—he’d fought many Demonkind before.

These ones weren’t used to handling demonic energy, nor were they familiar with this style of combat.

In the first place… they were the types who attacked from a distance by controlling monsters. It made sense.

‘If you don’t know what you’re doing, you die.’

Just as Hardin reached out again to grab another pebble—

Thwack!

“Hm?”

Medeia’s hand swiftly shot out and snatched it away.

Sreeeek!

She immediately infused it with mana and threw it violently.

Thud!

“Urgh!”

Another Demonkind’s head burst open.

When Hardin glanced sideways, Medeia spoke with a fierce look on her face.

“Is… is this how it’s done?”

“Well, yes, very nicely done.”

He was a little disappointed she’d stolen his stone, but… still, credit where credit’s due.

In any case, watching the princess grow thanks to his excellent instruction(?) made Hardin curl his lips upward.

After that, it was a clean sweep.

“Hyatcha.”

“Aaaargh!”

The Demonkind tried throwing tentacles and hurling spells like energy bolts from their hands.

But their attacks couldn’t even land properly, let alone hurt the two.

“Aaagh!”

“Gah!”

Sreeek!

By the time four of the Demonkind were lying lifeless, rolling down the slope—

“R-Run!”

“Screw thiiiiiis!”

Gripped by fear, they turned tail and ran up the same slope they had come down from.

They knew full well—

Staying here would only lead to meaningless death.

“Hey, stop right there!”

“Stay away!”

Hardin and Medeia quickly gave chase, but even as they fled, the tentacles that continued to shoot from their bodies hindered pursuit.

Crack! Crack!

As Hardin swung his sword, a sigh escaped his lips.

‘Annoying.’

Unlike when they had attacked head-on, now that they were running with their backs turned, he couldn’t find an opening.

He tried throwing stones again like before several times, but the extending tentacles blocked them each time.

“Hey, stop right there!”

“We must hurry.”

“Yeah, I’d love to!”

As the chase dragged on, annoyance crept onto Hardin’s face, while anxiety grew on Medeia’s.

Though the fortress was holding up for now, there was no guarantee how much longer it would last. They needed to finish this as soon as possible.

Then… just as the pursuit continued near the ridgeline of the mountain—

“G-Guru!”

“P-Please help us!”

As the demonic energy around them thinned, exposing patches of their bodies, the Demonkind cried out desperately toward the top.

“How pathetic… truly pathetic. You understood none of my teachings.”

The old man they had awaited stroked his beard and shook his head in disappointment.

Then—

Skrraaash!

“Hm?”

From the mountain peak, hundreds of tentacles suddenly shot up into the sky, casting a massive shadow.

The Demonkind’s faces were filled with surprise, and Princess Medeia frowned slightly.

And then—

Skrraaaash!

The tentacles rapidly came crashing down.

Crack! Crack!

Hardin and Medeia slashed through them while weaving between the gaps.

“Gahh!”

“G-Guru! W-Why?!”

The defenseless Demonkind were skewered by the tentacles and lifted into the air.

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Screeeeeaaaagh!”

The sound of flesh being torn apart rang out, accompanied by agonizing screams.

Taking advantage of the chaos, Hardin and Medeia pushed forward and climbed to the peak.

And then...

“…What is that.”

Medeia’s face twisted in disgust.

An old man in a white robe with a long beard.

The skin exposed beyond the robe was entirely blackened, and an ominous energy radiated from his entire body.

Furthermore… the blood smeared around his mouth and on his robe added an extra layer of horror to the scene.

The old man let out a bizarre chuckle and spoke.

“A pleasure to meet you, Princess Medeia. So… we finally meet face to face.”

The shark-like, razor-sharp teeth revealed between his lips made it clear—he was not human.

Medeia responded with a deeply displeased expression.

“Who are you?”

“Heh heh, what does the identity of someone as lowly as me matter now? This place will be your grave anyway.”

At that moment, Hardin, scratching his chin beside her, casually said—

“You’re a sorcerer from Santea, aren’t you?”

For a moment, the old man slightly furrowed his brow and asked back—

“Hmph… and who might you be, young master, to know of my ancestral land?”

Hardin exhaled sharply through his nose.

Santea.

The name of an empire that once existed far in the east—so far that one would have to ride eastward for several months without rest from the Fabian Empire to reach it.

When Shagrath emerged, the entire Empire had been shattered, and the descendants of those lands became infamous wanderers, surviving by taking on mercenary contracts across the continent.

Their specialty, without question, was using demonic energy in sorcery. (According to my eldest brother, it was due to their long history of being invaded by demonic beasts that such techniques developed. Not that I care.)

That power they were displaying now was likely one of those techniques.

Hardin pointed his sword forward and asked—

“Well, no need for names. But you… who hired you?”

“Hire? I haven’t the faintest idea what you mean.”

“Don’t play dumb. Someone ordered you to go after our princess. Name them.”

At those words, the old man narrowed his eyes—then burst into laughter.

“Ohohoho! Now this… this is quite the amusing situation. Ohohohoho!”

Who knows how long he went on laughing.

Eventually, the old man wiped the grin off his face and flicked out his tongue.

A massive crimson tongue, nearly the size of a forearm, slithered like a snake—disgusting enough just to look at.

He retracted it and spoke again.

“Seems Her Highness didn’t come all this way without a plan. With such a capable companion by her side, no wonder she made it this far. Fascinating… truly fascinating…”

Then—

Shraaash!

Medeia hurled her Bastard Sword straight forward.

It was so fast that even most seasoned warriors wouldn’t have been able to react.

But—

Thwack!

Dozens of tentacles sprouted from behind the old man and grabbed the flying sword, halting it mid-air.

“A sneak attack? That’s rather low, especially for a princess. As royalty, one must act with dignity befitting the bloodline.”

Medeia’s face hardened.

‘He’s fast.’

At that moment—

“Dignity, my ass.”

Shraaash!

Hardin, already having approached, squinted as he slashed through the tentacles gripping Medeia’s sword.

The Bastard Sword spun backward through the air…

Thunk!

Medeia calmly caught it and gripped it with both hands, pointing it at her opponent.

“…”

A brief standoff followed.

“…Looks like now’s not the time to be playing around.”

Crackcrackcrack!

Tentacles sprouted from the old man’s body and began slamming into the ground.

Red energy spread out rapidly over the white snow like veins.

Rumble rumble rumble!

The ground began to crack and tremble violently.

‘Goddamn it…’

Hardin and Medeia instinctively charged forward at the same time—

“Blaaargh!”

The old man opened his mouth unnaturally wide and spewed something without restraint.

From within…

“P-Please… save me…”

“Guru… please…”

Black smoke surged out, accompanied by screaming voices, and lunged at the two.

Human-like figures clung to Hardin and Medeia, dragging at their limbs.

They were the old man’s disciples—the ones he had devoured just moments ago.

“Ugh! This is getting annoying!”

“What are these things?!”

“I don’t know! Some half-baked sorcery from who-knows-where, probably!”

While Hardin and Medeia were momentarily restrained—

Rumble rumble rumble rumble!

Swaaash!

Giant pillars of ice erupted from the ground, and a fierce blizzard swept violently through the area.

It was so intense, it was hard to even keep their eyes open.

The two retreated a few steps, increasing the distance between them.

Swaaash—

And just like that, the blizzard stopped, as if nothing had happened.

As the snow settled and the view cleared, Medeia’s face filled with deep confusion.

“What on earth is that…?”

“…Good question.”

Hardin also frowned, fixing his gaze on the figure revealed.

‘Of course it wouldn’t end easily.’

A giant in human form, its entire body made of translucent ice.

It stood about 4 to 5 meters tall—slightly larger than the cyclops Medeia had taken down earlier.

A thick ice shield was layered across its chest, and at its center, the old man sat cross-legged, looking down on them.

“Your Highness, let’s end the entertainment here. Even this old man has a busy schedule, you see.”

Inside the ice, the old man’s tongue flicked grotesquely.