Chapter 45: Ice Castle, My Longed-For Home (4)
45
A dark snowfield where I couldn’t see even an inch ahead.
Somewhere within the Ice Castle towering in that bleak, bitter cold, screams were spilling out.
“Kwaaak?!”
“What the hell, an ambush?! Just who the hell would come to a place like this…!”
“Where are they shooting from?! Find them! Hurry, find the enemy…!”
Kwach-!
The head of a Necromancer who had been barking orders while clutching his muddled consciousness burst apart.
“Looks like all that time spent designing it paid off.”
An overwhelming power that couldn’t even be compared to a bow.
Watching the quarrel carve chunks out of the frozen Undead bodies, Klein nodded his head.
“First rank, reload. Second rank, fire.”
At his command, thirty Skeletons pulled the triggers of the crossbows in their hands.
Pushushushuk-!
Along with the tearing sound through the air, screams rang out once more.
Klein tore into a piece of stiff, hardened jerky as he looked down at their panic-stricken figures.
Sniping that continued in the darkness, with visibility ruined by the falling snow.
They wouldn’t even be able to respond, let alone figure out where the Skeletons were hiding.
“Uh, uuaaaah—!”
A Necromancer who had been sending Undead charging aimlessly into the air broke from the formation.
“Let’s see, that direction is….”
The direction he fled in, and the way the snow had piled up.
After measuring it briefly, Klein soon lost interest in him.
And then, a moment later.
Peoseok-!
The body of the Necromancer who had been fleeing just moments ago suddenly sank straight down.
“What is it?! U, uuaaaaaah…!”
His startled voice faded away as it plunged into the ground.
A crevice hidden beneath the thickly piled snow, a Crevasse.
Unlike last time, when he had advanced with Undead in front of him, this was the price of walking across the glacier with nothing but his own body.
“Without Undead support, you’re nothing but stranded scholars on an iceberg.”
Long ago, even the seasoned rangers and knights of the Alliance had hesitated to set foot on this ice plain.
Snow piled all the way to the horizon.
Because they knew of the countless dangers hidden within it.
“If you want to run, go ahead and try. This ice plain will kill you.”
Looking at the Undead who were unable to move as they defended against the quarrels, Klein spoke.
It was a single remark from the very man who had roamed this snowfield for decades and created the Ice Castle.
“This should clean up the small fry to some extent, but….”
After confirming that all the Undead had been dealt with,
I stood before the Ice Castle’s outer wall, staring at the blue gate in front of my eyes.
Even if some Necromancers had survived and escaped, they wouldn’t be able to endure the cold here.
They would either fall into a crevasse and die, or freeze to death.
Those were the only two endings waiting for them.
“Only one person left.”
A bishop named Jill.
Recalling his face, I placed my hand against the castle wall blocking my way.
Open.
The Voice of the Dead heading toward the gate coiled around the massive pillars.
And then, a moment later.
Kurururur…!
In response to the voice of its master who had returned after 200 years, the tightly shut gate moved, opening a small gap.
“Haa…!”
Slowly stepping forward, I headed into the interior of the Ice Castle.
The place I entered was one of the five towers that sustained the Ice Castle, ‘Spear of Wailing.’
As I stepped onto the transparent, crystal-like shining walls and floor, my eyes trembled.
Two hundred years.
Crossing that long span of time.
Crossing beyond a single human life.
“In the end…. I really did come back here.”
The Ice Castle.
My longed-for home.
A coffin of vengeful spirits created by a Necromancer driven mad with rage, a factory that endlessly spewed forth Undead.
…And also a place that served as a gravestone for the countless innocents who had died unjustly.
Goooooo…!
Though one might think I would have forgotten, painful memories lingered in one corner of my chest like scars, stirring my heart.
Forcing down the tears that surged up, I hurriedly scanned the surroundings.
Akimond’s base, clean without a speck of dust.
Yet something alien caught my eye there.
“…A corpse?”
There was a corpse.
Not one I had created, but one created by someone else.
Judging by the circumstances, it must have belonged to the Necromancer named Jill who had invaded this place.
“Does that mean there was a battle? Just who in the world…?”
Rather than discomfort, confusion and questions came first.
With my death as a Necromancer, the Undead guarding the Ice Castle should have either passed on or gone feral.
If so, there was no reason for them to protect this place.
‘And besides, these traces….’
Looking at the condition of the corpses only deepened my doubts.
Every single one of them had clean cut surfaces, as if they’d been sliced by something.
Rather than a brawl between Undead, it looked as though they’d fought knights.
“What is this? I clearly told them to wait outside.”
As I was examining the corpses with those doubts in mind,
I stood up at the familiar voice that reached my ears.
The middle-aged voice I had heard when peering into the Necromancer’s memories.
“Master Klein…?”
From beside one of the pillars, Bishop Jill in a black robe was walking toward me.
“…….”
I saw the one responsible for the bizarre traces scattered around this place.
Jill approached me with a face full of shock.
Yet on that face of his, I couldn’t find even a hint of fear.
‘…Damn it, I’m one step too late.’
After confirming his appearance, I cursed inwardly.
“H, haha! To think I could be this, this happy!”
Bishop Jill looked at me with a face that seemed unable to contain his joy, far from fearful.
His brows furrowed immediately at the ominous demonic energy flowing out of his body.
The source of that demonic energy was the black ring worn on the index finger of his right hand.
An artifact that gathered and crystallized the demonic energy of Akimond the Necromancer—the Obsidian Ring.
“Did you also come here in search of Lord Akimond’s power?”
“No. I came here to kill you.”
When I said that without lowering my guard, the smile on his face as he looked at me deepened further.
“Kill me? Me?”
Bishop Jill asked back like that, and then…
“Ha! Hahaha! Hahahahahaha! Yes! You came to kill me?! Me?! Hahahahahaha—!”
As if intoxicated by drugs, his eyes completely unfocused, he laughed like a madman.
‘You shouldn’t be able to fully control all the demonic energy dwelling in that ring yet….’
I ground my teeth as I looked at the ring he was wearing.
That was one of the five rings created in haste to replenish demonic energy during the height of the Great War.
‘Even compared to other Necromancers, its wavelength is alien, so it won’t be easy to handle. But….’
Even as I continued analyzing it in my head, I couldn’t erase the sliver of unease.
More precisely, the traces of the battle I had just seen.
To a Necromancer, what those implied was only one thing.
“How dare the likes of you claim you’ll kill me?! I, Jill Rahelin, who has been granted His grace and power—!”
Laughing, then raging, and now he was outright convulsing.
As if afflicted by madness, Jill’s uncontrolled outburst rang out, and a group of Undead revealed themselves behind his back.
…Wait a second.
What is that?
“Unbelievable…. Insane…?”
My expression twisted as I looked at them.
It wasn’t those rags with grotesque appearances that always caught my eye.
The one thing that made me recoil in shock—
Was the single presence walking out from among that group of Undead.
Step— step—
Along with the sound of old armor scraping against the floor, it slowly revealed itself.
“Hehehe…! This couldn’t have come at a better time.”
Rusty iron plates hidden beneath tattered cloth.
And carved into them, a familiar raven emblem.
What was slowly walking toward this place was a Death Knight.
The essence of half-soul sorcery created using the corpse of a knight.
“……!”
“What is it? Seeing my new power, have you forgotten how to speak?”
Seeing me frozen in place at the sight of the rusted knight, Jill sneered.
But to me right now, whatever he said wasn’t particularly important.
“How could this happen….”
Unable to believe it, I looked at the armor once more.
I looked at the old emblem engraved on that armor.
“Why are you here…?”
I forced myself to ask an Undead that had no reason to answer.
The twelve knights who gathered beneath the banner of Leinrant.
Among them, the very first to share Berkel’s will, the very first one.
And in later generations, the one whose name was honored, becoming the origin of the knight order that guarded the wall.
“Raven…. Foldring…!”
The Death Knight standing before me was one of Berkel’s Twelve Knights.
The Knight of the Great Raven—Raven Foldring.
“Huk…! Huk…!”
“Berkel! This way! Hurry!”
“Hraaah—!”
KuKwaaaang—!
Along with a sword strike brilliantly shining with mana, the cursed Undead spirit shattered into pieces.
“Where’s Akimond?!”
Leaving behind five Death Knights whose upper bodies had been completely blown away, Berkel asked the red-haired knight running ahead.
“He already headed for the inner depths! Once he activates the key, it’s over!”
“Damn it…!”
Just as Berkel muttered through clenched teeth and tried to pick up speed—
Boom—!
Kwoooooo—!
A giant easily over five meters tall blocked their path, swinging its fist.
“A Shadow Golem?! That bastard Akimond, to the very end…!”
Seeing it, the red-haired knight, Mercaine, urgently called out to his partner.
“Aigin!”
“I know without you saying it. Get ready!”
At the short signal, the two knights hurled themselves toward the onrushing golem’s fist.
Kwaaang—!
When the giant’s fist smashed into the ground, the two knights were already charging forward, using the giant’s arm as a foothold.
Kiiiiiiing—!
Two different mana signatures resonated, and the mana clinging to the two swords formed a double helix.
And at the same time, it overwhelmed the giant’s body like a raging torrent, piercing straight through its chest.
Kheooooo…!
The massive Shadow Golem collapsed, losing its balance.
Even after taking down a siege weapon capable of grinding down a fortress wall on its own, Berkel’s expression as he watched was far from bright.
“They’re already chasing us this far…!”
Countless Undead surged in from behind.
At that overwhelming force that seemed close enough to grasp, despair flickered in the knights’ eyes.
Is this it?
In the end, are we unable to stop the destruction of this world?
It was at that moment.
Click!
One knight who had been following them at the very rear came to a stop.
“Raven?!“
“What are you doing! If you don’t move now, you’ll die here—!”
“No.”
The knight with long black hair turned his back on his comrades and drew his sword with a single short word.
“……!”
The scabbard had already been removed from his waist and thrown far away.
Seeing that, Berkel locked eyes with him and fell silent for a moment.
“This is the best option.”
A line so short it was almost plain.
Looking back and forth between the approaching Undead horde and Raven, Berkel finally turned his back on him.
“Don’t die, Raven. That’s an order.”
“As you command.”
When the familiar response reached his ears, Berkel immediately began running toward the depths of the Ice Castle.
“B, Berkel?!”
“Damn it, protect the battle mages! Increase speed!”
“Don’t die, senior! You hear me?! If you die, I’ll kill you—!”
Having grasped the situation, the other knights didn’t hesitate for long either.
Kiiiiii!
Kraaah—!
After all his comrades had left.
The lone knight recalled the final order left to him.
‘Don’t die.’
The order of his benefactor who had saved him, and the request of his first friend in life.
Facing the Undead horde advancing toward him, he slowly opened his mouth.
“Raven Foldring, Knight of the Great Raven.”
A clear smile hung on Raven’s lips as he poured all his remaining mana into his sword.
“You will not pass beyond this point.”
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