Chapter 325: The Wrath of the North

Hode stood there in a daze, as if he had not reacted yet.

Aureus remained silent as well, only standing quietly, his hand still kept in the posture of pointing at Cooper.

With a dull thud, Cooper’s headless corpse collapsed limply onto its knees, then fell forward.

Even without lowering his head, Hode could clearly see Cooper’s headless corpse.

It was too sudden—Hode had not expected Aureus to suddenly strike and kill Cooper.

And to kill him in such a simple way.

There was no battle, no roar, no clash of weapons, no tearing of flesh and splattering of blood.

It was just a single finger, and Cooper was dead.

Hode’s mind was in chaos; he did not even know whether he should feel anger or fear.

His body trembled slightly as he spoke, “You killed Cooper.”

Even his voice trembled.

Aureus’s voice was still as cold as the northern wind, his tone calm as he replied, “Yes, I killed him.”

As he spoke, cold white breath puffed from his mouth.

Such a calm response caused a surge of anger to rise in Hode’s heart.

Suppressing the tremor in his voice, he said, “He was not your enemy.”

Aureus’s voice remained flat. “Yes, he was not my enemy.”

Hode gripped his double-headed axe tightly, clenching his teeth as he shouted, “Then why did you kill him!”

Aureus lowered his hand and said, “I am the King of the North. Everything in the North belongs to me. Tell me then, do I need a reason to kill a man of the North? Or rather, do I need a reason to kill anyone?”

“In the past, when you and he returned from the Exile Lands to the North, you killed and plundered. Did you need a reason then? You could have chosen to steal, to work, to accept employment as you do now, or even beg those people for food. But still, you killed.”

Hode’s anger faltered.

During that time, Cooper had been forcing him to awaken the Northern bloodline. Only by igniting that bloodline could he truly become strong like a Northern Warrior. And so, during that time, his actions with Cooper had been truly ‘Northern.’

The Northern Warriors were strong. If expressed in the monastery’s numerical terms, the starting point of the fourth tier was 40; a knight granted knighthood would usually fall between 43 and 47, while a Northern Warrior who completed the trial would be between 45 and 48.

It was precisely those experiences along the way that had allowed Hode to truly become a Northern Warrior. And with his noble bloodline, he was destined to be even stronger.

Aureus continued, “And the reason you dared to act that way, naturally, was because you thought yourselves strong. Killing could achieve your goals more quickly, so you killed.”

Aureus suddenly asked, “Are you angry?”

Hode answered, “Of course I’m angry—you killed Cooper just like that.”

Aureus said, “This is your anger? To me, it is like watching a wild dog bark furiously at me, yet too afraid to lunge forward and bite.”

Fear?

Yes, I am afraid!

Hode’s pupils contracted and relaxed repeatedly. He breathed heavily, his hands trembling. He felt that he did not even dare to roar at Aureus, nor swing his axe at him.

Even though Cooper had aged, he was still a true Northern Warrior. Yet with only a finger, Aureus had blown his head apart.

Aureus’s strength was beyond comprehension. Could he really raise his axe against him?

Or perhaps, was he simply afraid of death?

Hode could hear the pounding of his own heart. His blood seemed to boil, and it felt as though a thin veil of blood had covered everything before his eyes.

Clenching his teeth, he growled like a wild dog, just as Aureus had said, “You want to see my anger?”

Aureus let out a hoarse laugh. “Is this all the anger you can muster?”

Then he raised his hand again, this time pointing at Zeke.

Unable to restrain himself, Hode stepped forward and roared at Aureus, “You even want to kill Zeke?”

Aureus said, “Are you afraid? Cooper could help you, but in the end, he was just another brainless Northerner. Compared to him, Zeke should be far more important to you, shouldn’t he?”

Zeke only knelt on the ground with his head lowered, as if he had not heard the two men speaking.

Hode gave no reply. He simply hurled his axe at Aureus.

But Aureus caught it between two fingers.

“Heh, is this your anger?” Aureus sneered. “I could spit with more force than that.”

“Haah!” Hode let out a roar and charged at Aureus. “What are you trying to do!”

His eyes were bloodshot, as if a faint mist of blood hung around them. Raising his fist, he swung it at Aureus.

Aureus merely twisted his dry fingers slightly, as if unaffected by the axe’s weight, and easily swung the double-headed axe, striking Hode in the face. The blow sent him flying, blood spraying in mid-air.

Then Aureus flicked his finger, sending the axe flying toward Hode.

“Not enough, still not enough. Your anger is far too weak!” Aureus’s hoarse voice resounded. “If this is all, then watch as Zeke dies before your eyes.”

“Even with my body as it is now, killing Zeke and then moving east to slaughter everyone in the Comrades Group would still be no problem.”

“And if, after I kill them all, this is still the extent of your anger, then you have no reason to live. Perhaps the last bloodline of the Hoover Family will end at my hands.”

Lying on the ground, Hode pushed himself up with his arms as the axe crashed before him.

He heard Aureus’s words. His heartbeat thundered like war drums. His blood surged hotter and hotter. His vision was dyed crimson. His breathing grew heavy, like steaming heat being exhaled.

His family was gone. His elder brother had entered the Exile Lands and never returned. He himself had been expelled by the Church. Cooper, who had accompanied him for three years, had been killed. The curse of the Rat Path had left him unable to sire descendants. Zeke, who had helped him establish the Comrades Group, was now under the threat of death. And even the Comrades Group itself was being used against him.

Hode knew Aureus was serious. As the King of the North, Aureus did not need a reason to kill. If he wanted to kill, he would kill without hesitation.

Hode had not forgotten—on the second day of meeting Aureus, the man had slaughtered half his blood kin.

The name Comrades’ Home was chosen by him, because there he could gaze at the Hoover Territory from afar, surrounded by those who followed him. To him, that place felt like home.

Thus, Comrades’ Home was born.

And now, it was the last ‘home’ he still had.

So Hode roared like a wild beast.

“Graahhh—roar!” He rose to his feet, grabbed his battle axe, and swung it at Aureus.

Aureus tilted his head slightly. His raised index finger blocked Hode’s furious strike, as if an immovable iceberg had jammed the axe in place.

Aureus saw that Hode’s body was now flushed red, his eyes shrouded in a bloody mist, veins bulging on his forehead and hands. If one listened closely, they could hear the pounding of his heart.

“Is this all?” Aureus asked.

Behind his throne, pale-blue liquid seeped outwards, spreading quietly across the ground.

Hode glared at Aureus, roaring as he pressed down with the axe, trying to sweep it at Aureus’s head.

But Aureus’s withered left hand rose and grabbed the axe’s haft, stopping it.

Hode’s body did not halt. He rammed his head fiercely against Aureus.

Aureus did not dodge. His skull-like head met Hode’s head-on.

Their foreheads collided with a heavy bang.

Aureus did not move, but Hode staggered backward from the impact.

Blood trickled from a gash on his head. Ice crystals spread along the axe from where it met Aureus’s hand.

“If this is all, you will not be able to protect Zeke, nor the Comrades Group, nor the North,” Aureus said, stepping forward.

Blood stained his forehead. Slowly, long-handled axe and warhammer appeared in his hands.

As if too old to hold them properly, he dragged them along the ground, producing a grating screech.

“Rooaarrr!!!” Hode howled as if losing his sanity, hacking down once more.

Aureus swung his battle axe with tremendous force, flinging Hode against the wall. The power shattered the wooden crate behind him, revealing the Hunting Fang, pressed against Hode’s back.

“Anger, anger, anger,” Aureus intoned as he strode forward past kneeling Zeke, his warhammer crackling with lightning.

“The true Northern Warrior only reaches his strongest state in anger. Only anger can release all the power within him.”

Pinned against the wall, Hode bared his teeth at Aureus like a beast, saliva dripping between them. His fingers thickened, nails sharpening. His muscles swelled, splitting his fine leather armor and revealing his flushed body.

“The Church’s Holy Relic, the Hunting Fang—its predecessor was once a Sacred Relic,” Aureus said slowly. “To break through the true limits of the body and reach the fifth tier spoken of in Greenwood is difficult. But with the aid of a Sacred Relic, one can reach that level far more easily.”

“Then what difference is there compared to the fourth tier? Naturally, it is that physique surpassing ordinary men, that strength surpassing ordinary men, that will surpassing ordinary men.”

Crack! The double-headed axe in Hode’s hands was finally covered in frost, and under his strength, the axe was crushed into fragments, falling in pieces to the ground.

“I have seen the Church’s Guardian Knights. Beneath their unshakable will, they should be stronger than Northern Warriors, perhaps even able to reach the fifth tier through sheer will alone. And you were once a Punishing Knight of the Church, once even their captain, and were granted a Holy Relic. You should have been able to become a Grand Knight long ago.”

“Ha, perhaps it was because you were not pure enough.”

“As a knight of the Church, not pure enough. As a Northern Warrior, not pure enough. As a noble’s son, not pure enough. As commander of the Comrades Group, not pure enough.”

Pinned against the wall, Hode let out a low growl. He brushed the frost from his hands and gripped the axe that pinned him. On his bare torso, thick black fur slowly sprouted, like that of a wolf, or a bear.

Aureus stood before him, tilting his head upward to look at Hode, his warhammer suddenly erupting with violent thunder.

“But forget all identities, forget all responsibilities. Return to the instinct of a son of the North, and rage! Rage! Rage! Pure anger, the purest anger—rage together with the North itself!”

By the end, Aureus’s voice had risen to a thunderous roar, deafening like a storm.

He seemed to have returned to his youth, bellowing a high, fierce battle cry.

He raised the warhammer in his hand, crackling with lightning.

At that moment, Hode finally tore the axe free from the wall. His body pressed close to the stone, his legs bent, ten clawed toes digging tightly into the surface.

He raised the axe, the blade faintly radiating a twisted ripple.

With a kick of his back legs, he lunged down toward Aureus.

“This is the true Wrath of the North!” Aureus roared, swinging the hammer.

Boom! An explosion shook the underground chamber as immense force erupted. Zeke staggered, barely able to remain on his feet.

He looked at Cooper’s headless corpse, the body twisting under the shockwaves, the faint cracking of bones audible amid the tremors.

Feeling the pain surging through his body, Zeke did not hesitate. He grabbed Cooper’s corpse and hid behind Aureus’s throne.

Leaning against the throne, he could feel the dreadful power erupting behind him. Before his eyes, pale-blue lines spread across the ground.

The axe blade and the warhammer clashed at their peak, their power exploding, tearing open the depths of the earth, and becoming a thunderbolt that shot straight to the heavens.

Rivers Territory.

Although the lordship had already passed to Aen, he had not yet changed the name of the land.

He did not dare truly see himself as a free lord, daring to rename the land.

He feared forgetting that it was Greenwood that had made him a lord.

Every night, he reminded himself in his heart:

Aen, you are just a lucky merchant. It was only because Bishop Jeven recognized you that you had the chance to become a noble. You must not forget your origins.

He dared not stop warning himself.

The power of a lord was too great. If he demanded a new city be built, then the more than twenty thousand people in his territory would have to labor for that decision. Even if he said they would be fed only two meals a day and paid ten York copper coins, the commoners still praised his mercy.

He even thought that, were he not to pay them at all, they would still call him a merciful lord.

In the chaos of the west, his territory had swelled to over twenty thousand people, and the number was still growing.

For the North, that was already the population of a powerful viscounty.

Among them, he had recruited more than eight hundred warriors.

Though none were trial-completed fourth-tier Northern Warriors, they were still true Northern warriors.

In sheer strength, even without armor, Northern warriors of equal tier could beat Greenwood warriors into the ground.

And that was why Northerners proudly called them Greenwood cowards.

Now, these eight hundred warriors would crush his enemies at a single word.

Aen admitted that, even though the senators and Bishop Jeven had told him in advance that they would support him as a Northern noble, it still felt like a dream.

At times, he even wondered about competing for business with merchants under the name of lord…

No, no, no, Aen. Remember, you are a lord now. Do not shame yourself like a merchant.

He slapped himself twice and took a deep breath before reviewing the affairs of the territory.

But at a glance, his shock made him leap to his feet.

On the parchment were the words: “The commander of the Comrades Group will launch an attack on the west, slay the marquises, and quell the chaos of the North!”

Aen admitted that his first thought was to take his family and flee to Greenwood.

His second thought was whether this was the Senate’s plan.

But after thinking, he dismissed the notion.

Though the Senate had not said it outright, he could guess that the chaos in the North was engineered by them. And the North’s chaos was exactly what they wanted.

Since the Church was not intervening in the North, strategy there was naturally for the Senate to decide.

As for why Bishop Jeven had made him a Northern lord, that was partly political—to activate the Diocese of Rod—and partly out of mercy.

At least with him as lord, some commoners would be sheltered.

Understanding the Senate’s will, he was certain that quelling the North’s chaos was not their plan.

So, after some thought, he dared not act rashly. He released the white dove from its cage.

It was given to him by Bishop Jeven.

Since there was no clergy assigned in the North, Jeven had left him the dove for emergencies.

He wrote of the situation and sent the dove flying back to Bishop Jeven.

Watching it vanish into the distance, Aen sighed.

Power was tempting, but being caught in the middle was indeed dangerous.

And yet, he was absolutely unwilling to give it up.

The reply came quickly. On the third day, Aen received Jeven’s letter.

“Gather the army. March west. Quell the North. Greenwood will not give you support beyond food and gold. This time, aside from four Virtue Knights guarding you, those two Greenwood Knights and twenty-four Greenwood warriors will stay behind. You will lead only Northern warriors for the western campaign.”

Aen wondered if the letter had been sent by mistake.

The dove took a day and a half to fly to the Great Cathedral of Rod, and another day and a half to return. Did this mean the message was only Jeven’s will?

Or had they used magic to communicate?

After hesitation, he clenched his teeth and resolved to obey Bishop Jeven’s command.

No matter what political game was behind it, with Bishop Jeven at his back, he would act on Jeven’s will. At worst, he would flee back to the Great Cathedral of Rod.

He did not believe the Senate would dare clash with the Church.

The Great Cathedral of Rod.

Bishop Jeven anxiously awaited the reply.

He had received Aen’s letter, and at the same time, an Oracle. The reply he sent was his interpretation of that Oracle.

Otherwise, with such sparse words as “With the power of the North, pacify the North,” he feared Aen would misunderstand.

But though he had conveyed the Oracle to Aen, the Senate remained unaware.

In the past, nobles had to equip and feed their own armies. But that was in the past. Now, during times of service under the Church’s protection, soldiers were always paid—let alone for war.

Yet the Diocese of Rod was one of the poorest regions in Greenwood.

Even if its grain production had recovered, supplying Aen for a kingdom-scale war was impossible. In the end, he had to rely on the Senate.

Within the Senate, the atmosphere was grim.

Besides the five original senators, the three newly appointed ones were also present.

“Bishop Jeven seeks to pacify the North, and we are to gather food and gold to aid Lord Aen,” Piero said. “This is the will conveyed by Priest Agamemnon.”

No one spoke.

Puniel glanced at the three new senators, disappointed.

They all stared down at the table before them as if hoping to find gold coins on its surface.

If some hothead had stood up to oppose the measure, Puniel thought, he might have been able to shoulder more of the burden for His Holiness the Pope and His Majesty the King, who remained absent.

But of course, these three had been nominated by the Senate, reviewed by Piero, and confirmed by Agamemnon. None of them were fools.

At last, Puniel spoke. “Food and gold can be provided. But afterwards, once the North is pacified, then what? Will the North belong to the Kingdom of Greenwood, or to Aen, who pacified it?”

Aen was a free noble. By the old rules, if he subdued the North, he could proclaim himself King of the North and found a nation.

Yet Aen was their puppet, and this move was initiated by the Church. Moreover, it had been declared openly: the North would be pacified by the power of the North. That left the ownership of the North undecided.

They knew well enough: Greenwood was Greenwood, the Kingdom of Lundex was the Kingdom of Lundex, and the Church was the Church.

And now, given the Church’s stance, they could not be sure it did not intend to foster a new kingdom outside Lundex.

They were seasoned politicians. They understood that if the Church’s true aim was to become an empire, then when the Kingdom of Lundex reached its peak, a split between Church and kingdom would be inevitable.

For those who wielded power, they knew well: without external crises, the speed with which power corrupted men’s hearts was beyond imagination.

Even with Greenwood unified, the Church produced only a handful of priests each month.

And by the doctrine of the Holy Scriptures, priests naturally stood in opposition to worldly rulers.

Piero understood this as well. But would he dare voice opposition?

He did not even dare delay.

In fact, before calling the Senate into session, he had already dispatched gold and supplies to Aen’s territory. This meeting was only a formality.

Thus, in the end he said, “This point, I will confirm with Priest Agamemnon.”

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