[Are you ready?]

[You seem tense, Erich.]

Erich gave a wry smile. If he had regained more of his strength, there would have been no need for this kind of cunning, which made him all the more regretful.

‘This’ll work against the small fry…’

But to those who possess Frost, it means little. A paltry blaze like this was useless against them. Erich, who had faced them during the Great War, knew this better than anyone.

‘Still, it’s quite handy for clearing away the nuisance rabble.’

Clutching his flint tightly, Erich nodded to Hrung-ga. Hrung-ga strode into the darkness, and scattered along the path he took, white solid lumps were strewn.

‘Corpses of the dead make excellent firewood.’

The true nature of the white solids was fat, harvested from the dead and corpses. That was why Erich had earlier torn off body parts from the corpses.

Normally, flesh attached to a corpse quickly rots, but fat takes an unimaginably long time to decompose. That made this type of firewood collection possible.

At any rate, a loud shout rang out from where Hrung-ga had disappeared into the darkness.

― THUD! THUD THUD!

He came back, making a noisy commotion.

[Now!]

As Erich watched, he turned his gaze to the darkness. Faint shadows were writhing within.

The repugnant dead were chasing after Hrung-ga’s tail.

“Disgusting corpse bastards.”

― Snap!-

Erich struck the flint, and the spark landed on the heap of carefully piled fat.

― Fwoosh!-

Was it moved by food for the first time in centuries? As if starving, the crimson flame spread at a tremendous speed. It engulfed the dead who were pursuing Hrung-ga.

[Craaagh!]

Hrung-ga, too, couldn’t help but be affected by the flames. But he had learned how to use an aura shield by now. His grumbling showed he’d done as instructed.

‘Are steel nerves a racial trait, I wonder.’

Erich watched Hrung-ga’s barrier with silent admiration. An aura’s manifestation is most influenced by one’s mental state. In that sense, Hrung-ga’s unwavering barrier revealed his resolute spirit.

But right after, Erich looked at the blaze with renewed tension. He was conscious of the presence beyond the flames.

[Did the one with Frost follow as well?]

[Hard to say, we’ll have to wait and see.]

Erich scanned sharply past the blaze. In the worst case, the enemy might just leisurely wait for the fire to die down.

‘Back then, there were no auras or anything like that.’

He remembered the early days of fighting the dead, when he was ignorant of those enveloped in Frost.

Back then, research into ways to fight the dead was insufficient, and everyone was confused.

Only one thing proved to be an effective counter—fire. No one understood the reason, but the dead shrouded in fire became incredibly weak.

However, fire was rarely an effective overall strategy. If just one commander among the dead was present, they would simply wait out the flames, rendering it meaningless most of the time.

Fortunately,

‘There doesn’t appear to be such a commander here.’

Just as Erich smirked at this, the dead emerged through the flames.

― Sizzle!-

Those that had passed through the flames were now soft and weakened. Their necks fell easily to Erich’s sword.

― Thud.

Hrung-ga also swung his massive sword forcefully, beheading them.

[Kahahah! Pathetic small fry!]

The dead, bodies saturated with burning oil, were no match for the two of them anymore.

Then, even the elite ones with giant bodies appeared.

Hrung-ga, recalling his previous experience, tensed for a moment, only to quickly realize it was unnecessary.

― Clang!-

Hrung-ga swept his greatsword, this time causing the massive body of the deceased to stagger with little effort. A grin spread across Hrung-ga’s face.

[Were they always this weak!]

With those words, Hrung-ga intensified his attack. The elite dead trying to push through the fire instead fell back under Hrung-ga’s assault, losing their balance and being consumed by the flames.

― Krunch!-

His greatsword crushed the enemy’s head. Even without being clad in aura, the sword smashed its skull—proof of how much the fire had weakened them. But when Hrung-ga turned his head with confidence:

[Took quite a while.]

[… Monster of a dwarf.]

There was Erich, already finished and waiting amongst the flames for the next foe. As Hrung-ga showed disappointment, Erich chided him.

[There’s still one with Frost left.]

[Hmm, I was looking forward to that… hngh.]

But despite his words, as soon as he felt the aura of Frost, Hrung-ga’s body became rigid. Even surrounded in aura, an intense chill attacked him.

As the foe revealed its form beyond the flames, the fire there started to fade. The chill was quenching the flames. The enemy approached to a visible distance.

A monster wearing a massive horned helmet, surrounded by a fog-like aura. It dwarfed the previous elites in size. Where it stepped, there wasn’t just no flame, but—

― Ssssssssk.

Frost was forming. Erich quickly calculated. Was this a winnable fight?

‘I have saved most of my aura…’

With Hrung-ga’s support, it wasn’t impossible. But Erich couldn’t confidently claim victory, either.

So he had tried to thin the numbers by any means possible… would it be enough? As the foe drew nearer, Hrung-ga trembled. He exhaled a frosty breath.

[I wonder if I’m truly being protected by the sacred weapon.]

[… If you’re curious, try removing it…]

Erich, too, was surrounded by refined aura. Still, the intense chill was impossible to resist. A chilling thought flashed through Erich’s mind.

‘… It’s not far. Death, that is.’

After his regression, he had unconsciously assumed that death was no longer a possibility—even for himself. After all, as a former commander, nothing about today’s events felt truly threatening.

But when facing the Frost-shrouded monster, he remembered just how easily Watchmen had died.

And he reflected on how it could just as easily have been him.

His mind rushed with memories of shattered comrades, their faces contorted in horror.

― Sizzle! Clang!

As if to cast off those visions, Erich lunged in attack. His sword sparked as he clashed with the enemy’s frost and exchanged repeated blows with his own blue aura.

But he had no intention of forcefully crossing blades with the death knight. Slipping past the monster’s sword, Erich pressed the attack relentlessly.

― Clang! Clang!-

His aura-drenched sword left trails of blue afterimages throughout the gloomy cavern. The flickering flames cast restless shadows that chased after Erich’s rapid movements.

― BOOM!-

But even with Hrung-ga’s support, time was on the death knight’s side. The flames were dwindling under its frost, and as humans with limited stamina, Erich and Hrung-ga’s auras were running out.

Yet the white frost swirling around the death knight showed no sign of fading. It seemed to grow only stronger with time.

Perhaps, in truth, it was just that Erich’s aura was growing weaker… but regardless.

― BANG!-

A resounding crash as Hrung-ga was slammed repeatedly into the wall. Still, he rose and swung his greatsword. He stood no chance, but refused to give up.

In that desperate moment, Erich’s instincts screamed.

At this rate, defeat was certain. Who in their right mind would grind down the Dead in a battle of attrition?

Still, he repeated to himself,

‘Don’t waver…!’

The moment you waver is when it’s all over. In that instant, he recalled—

The teachings of Mikhail, the Watch’s legendary swordsman.

*

― Smack!-

“Your mind’s wavering, boy!”

“Ugh.”

Erich clutched both sides of his head. He was well past thirty, his beard bristling.

But the old man, Mikhail, mercilessly rapped his head with his sword’s scabbard, looking at his disciple with a cold smile.

“With swordplay like that, you couldn’t pierce a steak with a fork, let alone slice with a blade.”

“… Me, sir?”

Erich looked at the blue aura flickering around his blade. Rough, but undeniably vivid. With a shrug, he swung his sword.

― Swish!-

A great tree toppled with a whistle. But Mikhail clicked his tongue.

“Tsk, tsk. Not that, lad. I’m not just talking about the power of aura.”

The old man rose with effort. His trembling legs spoke of his advanced age.

He slowly raised his sword over a log.

And then—

― Thwack.

With a faint sound, the log split cleanly in two. Erich’s eyes widened as he realized there was something fundamentally different from his own cut. He couldn’t explain exactly what it was, but as the old man sat back down, he said:

“You’re a good swordsman. Born with a fine body and fine senses. But because of that, you don’t yet understand what truly matters.”

“And what would that be… sir?”

“You abandoned your roots and came here, didn’t you? You probably didn’t come willingly, nor was it out of your original intention. Nor did you have another choice.

Because of that, your mind is scattered, like a tree’s branches splitting a thousand ways.

Without gathering your will together, you waver when the wind blows, and crumble as soon as things get difficult.

That’s why your aura is the way it is.”

Scratching his head, Erich complained,

“… And knowing that is supposed to help?”

― Smack!-

Mikhail’s fist struck his head again.

“Ugh.”

“Remember these words, you rascal.

One day, you’ll meet an enemy you can’t overcome. And when that time comes, if your resolve is the same as it is now, you’ll find yourself flat on your back, remembering these words.

Do not waver. Under any circumstances. Only then will you never break, even facing a mortal foe.”

A smile played on Erich’s lips. But in the next moment, the memory scattered like dust.

The sky blazed red; the fields ran with blood. A white snowscape. Lying in the snow, covered in blood, was a man—his master, Mikhail—mumbling softly.

‘If only I’d realized sooner.’

‘If only then, how many lives could I have saved?’

‘It’s… far too late.’

‘If only I had one more chance…!’

But the next moment,

Erich realized. His second chance had already been given, and there was no excuse if he failed again.

Erich’s mind resurfaced, icy-clear.

He exhaled deeply. The aura that cloaked him was now so depleted that the frost seeped in. He didn’t need to look to know.

Glancing over, Hrung-ga was barely clinging to his sword, his aura faint, his body seemingly half-frozen and immobile.

Erich muttered,

[Sorry, Hrung-ga.]

Hrung-ga gave a rough nod.

― Vwoom!-

Upon his return, Erich realized he’d been far duller than he imagined.

Even after the miracle of regression, he had only enjoyed the blessing instead of fully reclaiming everything from his last moments as commander—as if reading about someone else’s fate, not his own.

Now Erich understood what he lost after his regression, the thing that had made him strong as a commander but left him so weak now.

It was his will—his resolute, steel-edged determination.

His body was young, his energy untamed but full as in those days, but his heart was no longer that of Commander Erich before regression. Until his mind, body, and spirit were unified, he couldn’t have regained his full power.

But now—

― Ziinnng.-

He understood. Not only what he was missing, but how to restore it.

Erich coolly closed his eyes. His sword, calm and steady, cut toward the death knight’s blade, advancing. Then—

― Thwack.

Erich’s sword split the enemy’s blade clean in half, then the head, which dropped to the ground. At the same time, the enveloping chill vanished as if it had never been.

[…!]

Hrung-ga stared at him, astonished. Erich, exhausted, looked back.

[How long are you going to lie around?]

[What are you…?]

Complex emotions flickered in Hrung-ga’s eyes: surprise, awe, and a hint of fear. Rising, he continued.

[… You fight like a different man. Why did you keep that hidden?]

[It wasn’t hidden. If anything, you could say I just regained what I’d lost.]

[You seemed to lose consciousness for a moment; did something inspire you?]

[… You could say that.]

Erich recalled the stubborn old man’s face—Mikhail, as he’d known him in youth.

[… Is it time to go on ahead, then?]

[Yes. Are you the first from your tribe?]

[Now that you mention it, I am.]

Erich walked to the fallen death knight’s body. Hrung-ga asked suspiciously,

[Intending to finish it off again?]

[No, I have something better in mind.]

Erich picked up its severed head and hung it from his belt. Hrung-ga’s eyes narrowed at the dangling monstrosity.

[… Do you really need to do that? You folk have strange tastes.]

[It’ll be useful. What better proof of a dangerous dead could there be if I need to convince someone?]

Erich glanced at the massive barbarian bones scattered around. They had surely died fighting the death knight.

[Still, some impressive folk made it this far.]

[They were great warriors, too. Likely already in the Goddess’s embrace.]

[That damn Goddess. Guess I’ll finally get a look at her face.]

The two of them moved on. At the place the dead had guarded, there was a small passage leading somewhere. Barely large enough for a few people to squeeze through.

[The light points this way.]

They followed it. Along the long corridor, they saw countless scattered bones.

[Black cloaks… aren’t these your people?]

[Looks like it. There are some barbarians, too. Different times, perhaps?]

Hrung-ga furrowed his brow, flitting his gaze. As Erich noted, among the black-cloaked skeletons, there were also huge barbarian bones. But if Hrung-ga’s instincts were correct, these burials were not all from different eras. He was perplexed.

[I don’t understand. I just can’t make sense of it.]

[… Let’s see what’s at the end.]

Thus, they reached the corridor’s end. There, radiant light beamed so fiercely it hurt their eyes.

And finally—

[G-Goddess!]

Stepping outside the passage, Hrung-ga suddenly fell to his knees. There, a small altar stood. Several torches were placed, with bones of Watchmen scattered all about.

[… No “Goddess” here, though.]

Hrung-ga bowed his head in reverence, then rose.

[This is a sacred altar. Any tribesman must bow their head before it.]

[An altar, huh?]

Erich narrowed his eyes, checking its shape.

‘No matter how I look at it, this is just like the altars used by the Incensus Church.’

He made no effort to tell Hrung-ga that. The expression on Hrung-ga’s face was just too devout. As if awe-struck, he spoke,

[Any altar in any tribe… all are but imitations of this sacred altar. Truly, it’s holy.]

[If you say so.]

Erich gave a nonchalant look at the altar again. There, a body shone with powerful light. And in that light, he felt a strong sense of déjà vu.

‘… If I touch this, I’ll get dragged into another memory, won’t I?’

Judging from before, that memory would be an interesting one. In the past, for some reason, the Watch’s commander had to come here—and there was a traitor.

‘Perhaps in this memory, the traitor’s identity will be revealed.’

Erich glanced at the still-moved Hrung-ga. Then, he reached out to touch the shining corpse.

————-= Clacky’s Corner ————-=

Tiberius and Titus…

【ദ്ദി(⩌ᴗ⩌)】

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep