Chapter 171
A massive horde of barbarians was marching toward the canyon.
Their numbers were so great that the very ground seemed to tremble beneath them.
Leading the Watch, who were squaring up against such an overwhelming force, was Grant.
He opened his mouth slowly, his face heavy with worry.
"... In the end, the lord commander wasn't able to arrive in time."
"Then, Grant, as Fortress 1's commander, you should lead."
"Me?"
At Hern's words, Grant, the First Fortress Commander, made a troubled expression.
"Even if I were to act as the temporary lord commander right now, nothing would change, Hern."
"Weren't you the one always wanting to retreat? You keep wearing that same expression."
Hern smirked.
Grant had been repeatedly suggesting a retreat.
The closer Erich's arrival date got, the slimmer their chances of withdrawing safely became.
Of course, Grant had never intended to abandon Erich; he only meant that they should be prepared in advance.
However...
"That was back when the enemy hadn't already approached this close. It's already too late."
Grant refused Hern's suggestion. Retreat was something to be done when possible.
The enemy had converged much faster than expected, and now their numbers were such that an assault could be launched at any moment.
Honestly, Grant admitted to himself that he'd misjudged the situation.
Ungrim's army, each unit organized in detachments, had led Grant to believe it would take time for them to assemble.
But he'd been wrong. Whatever Ungrim meant to those people, it was clear—countless barbarians flocked at his call in an instant.
This was unmistakable evidence of Ungrim's charisma and influence over them.
Grant quietly observed the state of the members arranged in formation.
After continuous rest, their condition was decent, but fear was etched across their faces.
"The members are unsettled, since the commander hasn't returned yet."
"Fortress 3 doesn't have any cowards like that."
"Not everyone here is one of your members."
Grant snapped back quickly.
The members from Fortress 3 seemed almost as if Hern had handpicked those just like him—headstrong, reckless, sometimes displaying the might of a formidable general.
But not everyone here was like that.
Aside from the Watch, there were also members from headquarters and even subordinates of the fortress commanders who had once rebelled.
Considering all the various groups, members of Hern's Fortress 3 made up only a small portion of the Watch.
"Besides, it isn't only Watchmen here."
Next, Grant looked over the imperial forces. They seemed fully adapted to the northern cold, their armor patched and reinforced.
It probably slowed them down, but their efforts to withstand the cold were noteworthy.
Yet, of everyone present, it was the imperial lords who looked most uneasy.
They and their men were here solely because they trusted Erich's name.
It was thanks to that trust that Erich, as commander, could fully control this force.
But now, in his absence, they were the ones most rattled.
Guenter then laid his hand slowly atop his sword. His lethargic expression seemed to carry a faint sigh.
"... At this point, it's meaningless to say anything."
Grant couldn't bring himself to argue.
The reality was that Ungrim's army was now at their doorstep, a threat that could come crashing down at any moment.
All that was left was to hold their ground as best as possible.
The option to retreat no longer existed.
If they wanted to retreat, someone would have to stay and pay with their life.
Otherwise, they would only end up fleeing together and getting their skulls crushed from behind.
The one to break the silence, however, was Richter.
"The lord commander will definitely come, commander Grant."
"...."
Grant gazed over at Richter. He hadn't used to be like this... Whatever had happened with the current commander, he seemed deeply moved.
Nowadays, whenever Erich's name was mentioned, Richter showed an extraordinarily strong trust—almost suspiciously so.
Still, Grant couldn't stake his soldiers' lives on blind faith like that.
Grant fiddled with the pommel of his sword before speaking.
"Haratakan isn't a place one can climb easily. And even if one goes in, coming back out is nearly impossible."
"Sometimes, someone appears who exceeds the imagination of people like us."
"And you're saying that someone is the commander?"
Richter offered only a faint smile at Grant's words.
Grant knew that Richter's body was at its limit.
He had used the dead's blood, and the aftereffects left him in a state where he might die any moment.
Lately, the symptoms had worsened to the point that, it was said, he'd even taken to eating raw meat.
Although so far, Richter clearly remained mentally lucid...
Grant mulled over these worries for a moment, but decided to focus on the present.
Anyway, it was now too late to consider any other options. He turned to the assembled members and spoke.
"Lieutenant, sound the horn. Arrange the formation and prepare for the enemy's assault."
"Yes, chief."
― BOOOOOO.
The sound of the horn began near Grant, spreading in waves far into the distance.
Soon, the noise filled the canyon, echoing off the cliffs, making an even greater din.
Yet, there was something that drowned even that mighty noise in an instant.
― KWAAAAANG! KWAANG!
Both Ungrim's army, which was charging in, and the Watchmen organizing their ranks, froze in place—
"Th-the mountain is collapsing!"
"My G-god!"
From beyond the Great Wall, it was possible to see the colossal Haratakan anywhere.
Now, that soaring peak was collapsing in a golden flash with an earth-shaking roar.
What kind of power could possibly bring down a mountain?
Yet here, right before their eyes, an unimaginable event was taking place.
The roar and tremors swept in all directions, like an earthquake; both the Watch and the advancing barbarians had their formations disrupted.
"Kh!"
Even the most resilient swordsmen were not immune—Grant himself staggered.
But what he saw as he steadied himself was the barbarians' formation.
"... Lieutenant! Blow the horn and re-form!"
"What?!"
"Hurry!"
Grant shouted urgently. The Watch would respond to the horn almost automatically, but the enemy would not.
Barbarians had never fought a battle of this scale with such discipline.
― BOOOO! BOOOOO!
The members were still dazed from the ground trembling, but soon they got back into formation.
To them, the line had only wavered slightly.
However, confusion was spreading amongst the barbarians. Spotting the opportunity, Grant shouted quickly.
"Sound the horn for an advance!"
The lieutenant hesitated, wondering if this was the right moment for such an order.
But out of habit, he obeyed Grant.
― BOO! BOOOOO!
The ground was still shaking underfoot, but with the advance horn call, the members let out a roar and charged forward.
The barbarians, their lines already broken, were immediately hit head-on by the Watch.
― KWAZZIK! KWADUK!
The sound of armor and bones breaking echoed everywhere.
In that narrow canyon, the clash of so many soldiers was enough to raise goosebumps.
In the midst of it all, Grant glanced to the rear.
The fortress commanders, recognizing his signal, all drew their swords.
Everyone instinctively realized—this was the moment for a counterattack.
*
― KWAZZIK!
Grant drove his sword into a barbarian rushing toward him.
There weren't many members left escorting him on the front line now.
― WAAAAAAH!
But faintly, he could tell that the other fortress commanders were still fighting hard.
They'd attempted a breakthrough, and it had actually worked quite well.
A charge that targeted the moment the barbarians were thrown into confusion was highly effective.
The problem was the sheer size of Ungrim's force overwhelmed that very effectiveness.
Just how far did they have to break through to see the other side? Grant didn't know.
But still, he swung his sword as hard as he could.
― KWADUDEUDUK!
On such a chaotic battlefield, the moment you let go of your sword, you died.
Grant knew this better than anyone, by experience.
But then, Grant's eyes flashed. Off in the distance, there was a change among the barbarians.
He realized they were hesitating and no longer launched at them with their previous ferocity.
"... What the?"
But Grant did not let down his guard. Perhaps the barbarians were scheming something.
However, in the next moment, Grant froze, sword still in hand.
― CHWAAAAAK.
The enemy lines split open. All of Ungrim's barbarians parted, like the sea, all at once.
And from between them, someone appeared.
It was a man Grant knew well.
"It's been a while, commander Grant. You've handled my duties well in my stead."
"C-commander..."
Grant's eyes widened in astonishment. It was Erich who appeared, parting the ranks of the barbarians.
But Grant couldn't make any sense of the situation.
Why were the barbarians making way for Erich? And why had their numbers increased since before?
And lastly, Grant's biggest question—why had the barbarians stopped their attack?
Grant slowly got to his feet, braced himself on his sword, and waited for Erich's explanation.
He desperately hoped for an explanation of what on earth was going on.