Chapter 106: Abnormality
Over the course of the next week, the situation in the valley did not stabilize. Instead, the number of wild beasts pouring out of the rift kept increasing day by day.
It was rapidly becoming a massive crisis.
Even Giles and the Church mages formally reported the anomaly to Jack. Naturally, being trained mages under the Holy Church, James, Nathen, Carla, and Banty possessed a solid understanding of the continent’s geography and history. Because winter beast tides were a common phenomenon, they had extensive theoretical knowledge of how the rifts operated.
Yet, as they stood in the Great Hall, their faces were pale with concern.
“My Lord, we have never heard of a situation where this many beasts cross over in a single tide,” Banty explained. “The volume is entirely unprecedented. There is definitely something wrong here. The ecological balance is completely shattered.”
“I am aware,” Jack replied, looking over Giles’s written report.
Giles’s ledger was deeply concerning. The resources dedicated to the defense were depleting at a terrifying rate. If the current volume of attacks continued, their ammunition would be completely exhausted in just two weeks.
And even more terrifying thing was: the main tide hadn’t even arrived yet.
The heaviest losses were the heavy ballista bolts. They were carved from solid timber, and manufacturing them perfectly straight was a tough, time-consuming process. While they were incredibly lethal—capable of impaling several beasts in a single, devastating shot—they had a fatal flaw. If the operators missed their target in the dark and the heavy wooden bolt struck the frozen, solid ground directly, the shaft would violently snap, rendering it completely unusable.
The villagers diligently ran out every morning to collect the splintered shafts, bringing them back to the village to be whittled down into standard crossbow arrows. But standard arrows simply didn’t possess the stopping power of a ballista bolt. Roland had designed several other ingenious traps, but even utilizing all of them, the raw volume of monsters threatened to overwhelm Jack.
Unable to comprehend exactly why the tide was so massive this year, Jack had no choice but to rely on brute-force logistics. He enacted the only solution available.
“Giles,” Jack commanded. “Gather your men. You are marching back out to the forest edges in the daylight to fell more timber.”
Giles swallowed hard but nodded firmly. “Yes, My Lord.”
Jack turned to the four Church mages. “And you will accompany them. Your duty is to form a defensive perimeter around the logging crews and ensure their safety.”
Jack was still fiercely unwilling to ask the Church for official reinforcements. He wanted his valley to grow independently, and he desperately needed to avoid drawing the Church’s gaze to his Necromancy. Even though the tide was vaster than ever, Jack remained confident. If the situation devolved into total chaos, he could easily deploy Elias and Sylvia to slaughter hundreds of beasts at once. Furthermore, once his Iron Core broke through to Layer 3, he had a preserved Layer 3 mage waiting in the crypts, which would skyrocket his military power. He just needed to survive until then.
Thanks to Jack’s recent steel production, the logging went incredibly fast. The lumberjacks were now swinging perfectly balanced, razor-sharp steel axes that bit through the frozen trunks with ease. Since most of the villagers had nothing to do during the day due to winter, dozens of men lacking specialized skills eagerly volunteered for the logging crew to earn their daily wages.
The depleted ammunition reserves were quickly replenished.
Naturally, the noise of falling timber attracted starving beasts even during the day. Small packs of winter wolves and frost-boars charged from the tree line, but the Church mages efficiently incinerated and crushed them with their elemental magic, perfectly executing their guard duties.
Like that, the days bled into one another.
Because of the relentless slaughter, the quantity of butchered beast meat in the village storage skyrocketed. The volume of raw flesh threatened to rot, forcing the villagers to hastily construct several new smoking sheds just to preserve the massive influx of meat.
Finally, the night arrived.
Through his relentless scouting using Grim, Jack saw the horde gathering. The density of glowing eyes in the dark forest was suffocating. Tonight, the main tide was coming for the villagers’ flesh.
Knowing the defenses would buckle under the weight of the incoming horde, Jack made a decisive tactical adjustment. Tonight, he was deploying Elias and Sylvia to the front lines.
Controlling two undead mages simultaneously in the middle of a chaotic battle was going to be a difficult task, but against mindless beasts, Jack was confident he could manage the strain.
Down in the village, the atmosphere was electric with tension.
“Everyone, hold your positions!” Giles’s rough voice echoed across the snowy village, the streets faintly illuminated by the flickering torches mounted on the palisade walls. “Lord Jack has sent word! Tonight is the main tide! This is the final, massive hurdle we must persevere through! Hold the line, and the spring is ours!”
A roar of determination went up from the villagers as they locked their crossbows and cranked the heavy steel winches of the ballistas.
Outside the palisade walls, standing several dozen yards away from the lethal trench, were two armored figures. Elias and Sylvia stood like silent, steel statues in the falling snow, directly facing the dark tree line.
Up on one of the corner watchtowers, Banty, James, Carla, and Nathen stood together, leaning over the wooden railing. They were eager to finally watch the Lord’s mysterious, silent retainers unleash their magic.
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At Jack’s explicit order, all the ballistas and crossbowmen had been completely removed from this side of the wall where the mages stood. Firstly, he didn’t want stray friendly fire hitting his undead. Secondly, because the incoming horde was going to be enormous, the other sides of the hexagonal palisade desperately needed the extra firepower and manpower.
Meanwhile, up in the castle, Jack stood on the high stone balcony of his bedchambers. The biting, freezing wind whipped at his already reddened cheeks. He stared down at the illuminated ring of the village, his hands gripping the freezing stone railing. Tonight, any beast killed by Elias or Sylvia would be scorched or shredded by magic, rendering the meat tainted and unusable. It was a big economic loss, but survival took absolute precedence over profit.
Inside the bedchambers, the door clicked open.
Karen stepped in carrying a silver tray, but found the room empty. Spotting the open balcony doors, she walked out into the freezing wind.
“Lord Jack, forgive my intrusion,” Karen said softly, her voice catching his attention. “The kitchens reported that you asked for your dinner to be delayed.”
“Ah, Karen,” Jack murmured, not turning away from the view of the valley. “Yes. I didn’t tell you, did I? This year’s beast tide is… highly unusual.”
“Unusual, My Lord?” Karen asked, stepping up beside him, her brow furrowing with concern.
Jack let out a faint sigh. “Yes. Since you already know exactly what I am, and the dark history of my family, there is no reason to hide things from you. I have been using Grim—the skeletal wolf I retrieved from the crypts—to keep a permanent eye on the forest and the rift.”
He narrowed his eyes at the dark tree line in the distance. “Compared to last year, or any historical average I could find, the numbers are astronomical. I had to force the men out into the woods during daylight hours just to hoard enough wood to keep our weapons loaded. And tonight… tonight is the main tide. Hundreds of beasts are going to hit those walls at once.”
“Hundreds, My Lord?” Karen gasped, her eyes widening in terror. She remembered the nightmare of last year, and they hadn’t faced anywhere near the number which was coming.
“Yes, hundreds,” Jack confirmed coldly. “That is why I have placed my two undead mages on the battlefield. There is nothing to be overly worried about. They are just mindless, starving animals; they will be eradicated easily. However…”
Jack rolled his shoulders, preparing for the strain. “…I will have to dedicate my absolute, undivided mental concentration to orchestrating their spells from up here. The mental and magical strain will be severe. That is why I ordered the maids to hold my food until the this is finished.”
Karen looked at Jack’s pale profile, her heart aching for the young man who carried the entire valley on his shoulders. “If you are that confident, My Lord, then I believe in you implicitly. But please, do not push yourself to the breaking point. You have been working for hours every single day for months. You are always managing the ledgers, the construction, the mines… it is not good for your health. You must rest.”
She bowed deeply, the tray trembling slightly in her hands. “If you will excuse me, I will keep your meal warm by the hearth.”
Jack let out a long, heavy sigh as he listened to her footsteps retreat. Karen was the only servant who hadn’t abandoned the original John Frost Grip when he was on his deathbed. A small pang of guilt echoed in Jack’s chest for constantly weaponizing her loyalty, but he couldn’t afford weakness now.
Once we survive tonight, the hardest part is over, Jack promised himself.
An hour later, the darkness beneath the trees began to shift.
It started as a low, vibrating rumble that shook the snow from the branches. Then, countless glowing eyes pierced the gloom. Hundreds of massive winter wolves, huge boars, and hulking bears charged out of the tree line, driven mad by the scent of warm human flesh.
The moment they crossed the range markers, the village erupted.
Swoosh! Swoosh! THWACK!
On five sides of the palisade, a relentless rain of crossbow arrows and massive ballista bolts tore into the horde. Beasts howled in agony as they were pinned to the snow. The vanguard that survived the volley blindly charged forward, only to have their legs shattered by the hundreds of caltrops buried in the snow. Those that limped past the caltrops plummeted into the deep, wide trench, impaling themselves on the spikes beneath.
But on the wall mages were stationed, the scene was fundamentally different. It was a magical massacre.
As a massive wave of wolves bounded toward the two lone, armored figures, Jack’s eyes flared on the balcony. He tightened his mental grip on his retainers.
Sylvia stepped forward, raising her heavy steel gauntlets. A localized hurricane of razor-sharp wind erupted from her palms. The compressed air blades sliced cleanly through the charging beasts, severing limbs and tossing massive wolves backward through the air like broken toys.
Before the horde could recover, Elias slammed his boot into the snow. A roaring, super heated wave of pure fire magic rolled outward in a wide arc. The flames caught the howling beasts, instantly incinerating their fur and boiling their blood. The snow instantly vaporized into a thick, blinding hiss of steam, carrying the horrific stench of scorched flesh.
Jack didn’t just leave them standing there. Acting like a supreme battlefield commander playing a real-time strategy game, he monitored the entire perimeter from his high vantage point. Whenever a specific section of the wall seemed overwhelmed by the sheer volume of bodies piling up in the trench, Jack mentally marched Elias or Sylvia over to that flank.
A barrage of fireballs shattered the ice, and localized tornadoes ripped the charging boars off their feet. The Church mages on the watchtowers watched in stunned, awe-struck silence as the two silent knights effortlessly controlled the battlefield, slaughtering everything in their path with terrifying efficiency.
It took nearly two full hours of relentless violence.
Finally, the last few surviving beasts, realizing the futility of their charge, turned and fled back into the woods, whimpering into the dark.
Silence fell over the blood-soaked, scorched snow.
“We did it!” a villager screamed from the walls, raising his crossbow into the air. “WE DID IT!”
The entire village erupted into loud cheers. Men and women hugged each other in the snow. Their hearts pounded violently against their ribs. The volume of beasts they had just witnessed was beyond anything they had ever imagined. They all knew that if it hadn’t been for their Lord’s personal mages, the walls would have splintered under the weight of the corpses, and they would have all been devoured.
Up on the balcony, Jack didn’t cheer.
His knees buckled, and he collapsed heavily against the freezing stone railing, gasping for air. His vision swam with black spots. The mental strain of controlling the mages was something he was accustomed to from the steel forge, but the raw drain on his Iron Core was agonizing. He had never pushed his mana capacity this hard, rapidly cycling vast amounts of fire and wind magic for two continuous hours.
His core felt like it was physically burning inside his chest.
Gritting his teeth, Jack sent a final command down the mental threads. Elias and Sylvia turned and marched silently up the hill, entering the castle and returning to the his meeting room.
The moment they were secure, Jack severed the connection completely.
He stumbled away from the balcony, his limbs feeling like twigs. He didn’t even have the energy to eat his dinner. He dragged himself to his bed and collapsed face-first onto the mattress, instantly blacking out from exhaustion caused by the strain on his core.
Down in the valley, the village celebrated their impossible victory till the early hours of the morning.
Yet, deep in the frozen wilderness, the magical rift connecting this region to the unknown continent began to pulse. It rippled with a strange, violent, and highly abnormal energy—a phenomenon that no one in the Frost Grip valley, not even Jack, knew was happening.