1097. What is needed is courage and possibility
People and supplies are pouring into the southern front. It was only natural.
For this fight would determine the future of the continent.
This is all we can do, but please accept even this.
First, it was some southern lord who arrived laden with food.
Next came the King of Naurilia.
However, he was disguised as a mere soldier and pretended to be a mercenary, and both Cypress and Sinar knew this but let him be.
Krang moved among the soldiers as if nothing were wrong. He
carried stones, prepared food, and took on all the menial tasks. Naturally, the number of eyes around him recognizing his work increased.
“You said you couldn’t fight, so did you come here to do something like this?”
There are people who say this, too.
Don’t go out of your way to die here. You’re still young. This place isn’t really right, so get out.
Some people expressed concern, but generally, everyone liked him.
If this could be called a talent, it was one. Something like the ability to be loved by everyone. He
hadn’t done a single thing to gain favor or force a smile.
He simply decided that it was better to carry even one more rock for the sake of everyone fighting here than to pretend to be deep in thought from the safe rear.
In the meantime, he also performed various duties expected of a king. Being a king, it was true that he was busy.
So why was he acting this way? To be honest, he was doing it to put his own mind at ease.
He couldn’t even sleep peacefully if he just stood by and watched.
Yet, strangely enough, everything he did—his actions, his attitude, his tone of voice—had an impact on those around him. So, it really was a talent.
If Crys had seen it from the side, he would have said, “This must be why one is king.”
“Krang? You can join our side once this job is over.”
Then, I also received this proposal from a mercenary captain.
“I would do that if I really had nowhere else to go.”
Krang answered nonchalantly and continued moving as usual. He carried stones and iron, prepared food, and helped organize the supplies coming in from behind.
He rolled stones to the side of the catapults, and since he was unskilled at cooking, he took on all the menial tasks besides the actual cooking.
He moved until his body ached, yet he wasn’t exhausted to the point of death.
His physical strength hadn’t been bad even before he became king, and he never skipped physical training afterward. After all,
a sound mind settles in a solid body.
Krang was a man who upheld the truths he knew.
Meanwhile, the monster army grew larger and larger. The thought spread that it was becoming unbearable to watch any longer.
However, surprisingly, morale did not plummet.
This was thanks to a word that occasionally spread among the soldiers.
The higher-ups will take care of it. We just have to do the work assigned to us.
It was Krang who said this. He genuinely and sincerely shifted the blame to the higher-ups.
Wasn’t that exactly why the higher-ups formulated strategies and prepared for the fight?
If it fails, it is the King’s responsibility.
He went around speaking so nonchalantly, and it spread like a trend. It essentially created a belief that even if a monster army gathered, there would be some means to deal with it, and that they would respond in some way or another.
This, too, was not exactly intentional. Krang simply said it sincerely.
He truly believed that everyone who died here was his responsibility.
Then, he readily got involved in the affairs of those around him, and that peaceful part of his daily life served as a mechanism to maintain his morale.
Of course, this was not intentional either.
In the midst of all this, Krang even offered advice regarding the love story between a female mercenary named Delma and a male mercenary named Drito.
“If you don’t want to die fighting, isn’t it better to back out?”
This remark came about because two mercenaries who fell in love were fighting over how many children they would have. “You bastards, shouldn’t you be talking about that in the rear?”
It was a natural thing to say to Krang, but Delma replied to the suggestion to step back completely.
I don’t like that.
Seeing that Drito didn’t really get involved, this bastard felt the same way.
“why?”
Krang asked. He was speaking while weaving straw and making a bedding mat right where he was sitting. Although
there were plenty of supplies, various other items were needed for a group of this size to stay.
It was only natural that anything missing had to be made on the spot.
The mercenaries with spare hands were also joining in, asking what else they could do if they just sat around doing nothing.
“I may be a clueless swordsman, but I know one thing. If we back down now, it means we’ll have to live like this for the rest of our lives.”
Thelma looked at the bundle of straw I had made and pushed it aside. It seemed that with my skills, I was only wasting straw, so I thought I should stop.
“Yeah, we need to let our child live a comfortable life. To do that, we’re going to have to grit our teeth right now.”
Drito continued speaking. The straw mat he had made was reasonably usable. If he made it roughly, a skilled woman would finish it.
His words were unrefined. His will was also unrefined.
However, in Krang’s eyes, there were many people like this.
In the first place, there had never been any coercion to recruit mercenaries or assemble an army on the southern front. Yet, these were the people who had gathered.
“Fine, if things go wrong, let’s just curse the king to our heart’s content for making things this way.”
This is what Krang repeatedly said himself.
Three days later, Krang cast off his soldier’s uniform, put on his own cloak, and climbed onto the castle wall.
Parararak.
His cloak fluttered in the wind. He stood against the backdrop of a bonfire crackling and sparks flying in the cold breeze. No one could fail to recognize the three swords, shield, and the symbol of the Sun Tree emblazoned on his cloak.
Even if one wasn’t a master shepherd who had memorized every noble family’s crest, few would be unfamiliar with the royal family’s crest.
In reality, the time up until now had been a period of steeling his resolve as he watched the monsters gather.
Since the start of this battle, Krang had pondered whether it was truly right to put them at the forefront.
He still lacked confidence. Yet, he knew that if it was a time when he had to fight, and if there was something he had to sacrifice to protect his back, then so was it.
Hadn’t Delma and Drito told him with their unrefined will?
Krang was moved by that as well. He could not tell those who had gathered of their own free will to simply live by breathing.
“If you fail to defend this land, curse me.”
His speech was short and brief. He spoke while looking down from atop the castle wall. Some of the lined-up soldiers and supply officers recognized him.
“…Our king is a bit of a unique person.”
Thelma muttered. What kind of king would hang out by her side doing things like weaving straw bales?
“I know.”
Drito replied.
When would the battle take place? It was a time when the cool season had arrived before anyone realized it. One could say it was just before the cold set in. Just
as he was beginning to feel a bit uneasy about sleeping without a fire at night, the dwarf clan that had established diplomatic relations with the royal family arrived.
Krang was joining the army and mingling because it was his time to rest, yet he had not neglected his duties as a king.
He would do whatever was necessary before the battle.
And that was how it was accomplished.
Light a fire.
Some dwarves skilled in hammering iron formed a group behind the southern front.
It was initiated by Crys, but it came to pass because Krang had deliberately met with the Dwarf King and secured a promise of aid. Of course, this was known only to a select few. Perhaps
only Marcus Vaisar and his close associates remaining in the royal castle knew.
Marcus Vaisar would become the Regent if anything were to happen to the King. Naturally, he did not want that, but he could not break his King’s stubbornness.
That was the reason he could not come to the battlefield.
“If everyone comes and dies, who will restore the kingdom? Duke Baisar, you must take on some heavy responsibility.”
“Why are you dumping the King’s duties on me?”
“It is a royal command. Well, let’s just pass the unpleasant work on to you.”
This was the conclusion of such a conversation.
Instead, they simply took the entire Royal Guard, whose identities were concealed, along.
In any case, behind the southern front, structures were built one after another, rather than just tents.
Whoosh.
So, he built a makeshift blacksmith’s forge and hammered iron on the spot. He anticipated that this battle would be prolonged.
He constructed catapults, made some large arrows, and even built ballistas. He was
preparing for the spring, when the real fighting would begin.
Holding out until then was the responsibility of the guardian spirits and fairies of the South. Sinardo Cyprus was also fully aware of his position.
Gardenia.
One night, Sinar spoke, and Cyprus agreed.
It was a night of pitch-black darkness, with thin clouds covering the sky and even the moonlight dim.
The two informed only a few close associates and stepped outside the walls. That night, unlike usual, the wooden walls opened silently.
“Watch out, Queen.”
These are the words of Woodgard Bran as he sees them off on their way out.
Who are you worried about?
Sinar stepped forward with a smile.
The gate, barely wide
enough for one person to pass through, vanished immediately after the two of them stepped out. Using their Fairy Tale abilities to conceal themselves, they approached the area where the monsters were gathered and launched an attack.
A chilling air settled in. As they approached the horde of monsters, the acrid smell of burnt food and rotten eggs stung their noses.
“To hold out until spring, reducing their numbers here is not important.”
Sinar was as seasoned as Cyprus. That is why he saw right through to the point.
Cyprus, having spent his entire life on the battlefield, understood those words perfectly.
“What is needed is courage and.”
“Possibility.”
She makes it known to everyone that the monsters gathered here are nothing. She reminds herself of this whenever she is about to forget, so that military discipline does not waver.
The two exchanged a few words and parted ways. Sinar immediately concealed her presence completely. Although it was not her specialty, it was not difficult, as she had learned it by observing a human named Saxon Vensino, and being a fairy, she was very adept at hiding her presence.
She slipped straight into the darkness. Her dark green cloak clung tightly to her back.
After avoiding the scent-sensitive herd of monsters without a sound, she reached roughly the interior and drew her sword upon seeing a floating creature called a Beholder.
The leaf-shaped sword, drawn silently, sliced through the darkness, tracing a vertical green line.
A monster caught in it was split in two with a crack. The Beholder casts a petrification curse with its eyes, having neither a mouth nor a nose. However, that only worked on those lacking Will.
Sinar looked straight into the Beholder’s eyes and slashed again and again.
Since monsters don’t sleep, a reaction came immediately. The surrounding creatures targeted Sinar and extended their tentacles.
They freeze with their eyes and extend their tentacles to suck out life force. It is a Beholder’s technique. He lightly dodged and swung his sword, causing the severed tentacles to flap and fall to the ground.
This is good enough.
It’s going to be a bit noisy.
That’s what I was thinking, but the commotion over here was nothing compared to this.
Kieeek, Kaaak, Ugh!
Amidst the screams exchanged, a deafening roar erupted in the distance. The ground shook sharply, and a fierce energy spread.
Along with this, a very clear shout also burst out.
“My name is Cypress Everhold. No one can cross here until they kill me.”
He instantly draws the attention of those around him. No, I should correct that.
Cypress drew not attention, but murderous intent. Laughing heartily, he shouts again.
“Bring it on, all of you! Hahaha!”
He set out with determination. Even for a knight, it is arrogant to expect to survive fighting among monsters of this caliber.
Yet, he succeeded. He fought in a manner befitting his reputation of somehow succeeding.
Meanwhile, Sinar found his target.
Guys worthy of being called big names.
That night, Cypress let out a yell, and Sinar killed one of the werewolf leaders with bright red fur.
Wooooh.
As I retreated, leaving the howling of wolves behind, a portion of the monster pack charged at me.
This, too, was part of my calculation. My intention was to circle around to the castle walls and wear down their strength.
It wasn’t a grand strategy or tactic; it was simply a judgment that fighting along the walls was better than wasting time like this. My plan
was to appropriately deplete the enemy’s power while allowing my allies to gain the experience of victory.
Flutter.
As Cypress and Sinar pulled themselves away, they noticed the murderous intent they had felt behind their backs vanish in an instant.
When they turned around, the creature flapping its usual black wings high in the sky was looking down at them.
It is a petty act.
At a single word from him, the horde of monsters chasing the two came to a halt.
Had they returned to a stalemate? That was not the case. They could not attack recklessly the next day. The place where the monsters had set up camp was heavily littered with traps.
No matter how much of a knight they were, exhausting themselves there would have been foolish.
Three days passed, and it was now morning. As soon as the sun rose, the horde of monsters attacked.
The monster legion approached, battling the sunlight as the blue light of dawn vanished. They stormed in with the sunlight, replacing the gloominess of the Demon Realm.
“Fight!”
“Defend the walls!”
Arrows were shot, and the wizard chanted spells in between.
With the moat as the boundary, arrows, fireballs, and invisible arrows pierced the monsters. Yet, hundreds of troops eventually managed to cross the moat.
The walls of the fairy castle are made of wood. It is difficult to pour oil on them and set them on fire.
That is why the hidden forces of Kirhais, the city of the fairies, were deployed.
For the City of Fairies.
It is a characteristic of fairies to feel no emotion. Dryuers and a few members of Woodguard merely murmured it, pouring their hearts into it.
That was the battle cry embodying their resolve.
A green mist rose in front of the monsters, enveloping the horde, and tree roots forming a fortress wall rose up to snatch the monsters’ ankles.
The mist shattered the monsters’ respiratory systems. Small granules of dust traveled straight up their nasal passages and crushed their lungs.
It was an astonishing spell, yet several members of Dryuers who used it collapsed. It was due to the strain.
Witnessing this scene, several commanders on the Southern Front shouted.
“Shoot, shoot more!”
With the mindset that he would be fine even if he poured out every arrow he had for the day, the archer pulled the bowstring until the thimble tore.
Dudududung!
The battle on the first day came to a halt as the horde of monsters retreated from a stalemate.
They invaded right up to the castle walls, leaving behind hundreds of corpses before withdrawing. The stench of rotting flesh permeated beyond the walls and assaulted the noses.
It seemed as though they were attacking with smell as well as sound.
The smell of rotten urine was so strong it was enough to sting the eyes. Although some of the Druers used their spiritual energy to disperse the stench, restoring cleanliness was twice as difficult as defiling it, effectively draining the power of the Fairy City.
One day, two days, three days, four days.
Days of fighting and fighting. Many grew weary as time passed, yet the horde of monsters could not easily cross the line.
In reality, should they expend more strength here? Or should they wait and conserve?
The army of the Demon Realm employed a simple strategy: to relentlessly send out hordes of monsters and beasts.
