Chapter 65: (1)

(1)

“I’m standing next to a bastard and I’ve been drenched in shit.”

Bernardo Eli thought that this was the perfect phrase to describe his current predicament. He stood beside the eldest son of the Count, the very man who had uttered those words. He had at first thought it to be an overreaction to being splattered by some mud, yet it did not take long for him to realize that it had been blood, not dirt. Bernardo had brought his sins with him, as he had been exiled due to the other nobles’ resentment. That was why he had stood with the other sinners, the other exiles.

The fall of his family had been regrettable, as had been the royal family’s desire to appease noble hearts, for this desire had led to him becoming a political sacrifice. But what could he do? To be powerless was a sin as well. He was surely not going to have a quiet life in his new home. As if this would be atonement for all his wrongdoings!

The north was bloodier than he had expected. Once every four days, the Orcs besieged them. The north was a place where one couldn’t tell when, where, and how death would strike.

Half of the infantry had died in the first two weeks after arriving. Some had their heads had cleaved open by axes while others had tumbled to their deaths from the walls. No one seemed to care about these deaths. Youths who had once been nobles were thrown onto corpse piles alongside monsters, their bodies incinerated and turned to ash. Sinners still had the urge to survive, yet the north demanded more than willpower when survival was concerned.

After a month, all the exiled nobles had perished.

Bernardo was the only survivor.

The Mana Heart training and sword skills drilled into him by his family had saved his life. These things were his only lifeline, and he refused to give up despite his family’s fall from grace. He even held a hope that he could safely end his exile. However, this thrice-damned frozen land was a place that trampled human hopes by default. This brutal truth was more evident now that a new monster, a King of the Orcs, had besieged the castle with 20,000 Orcs. When faced with the mighty presence of that beast, he felt as if the pressure was crushing his soul. When the Warlord’s banner had struck the spire, his despair had deepened, and his future seemed grim and ominous.

It was then that he saw a familiar boy climbing the tower. He had braved the frozen stones in his ascent, severed the Orcish banner, and raised it high for all to see. In the instant that Bernardo had seen this brave display, hope had bloomed to displace his despair. The sound of a victory horn had rung out, and the knights had begun to sing a strange song. Mana flowed freely through the air, and the terror that had been squashing his soul had gradually receded.

It was only then that Bernardo realized that the boy who had given him hope had been the one who had exiled him to this bloody place. His resentment had flared up, then. Here he was, struggling for life and death on the wall, and no one even cared.

What a vile and twisted world. What a damnable life.

Complaining never helped anyone, though. The Orcs were advancing. The Rangers had fired volley after volley into them, yet this did nothing to stem the great green tide that swept over the snow. Orcs on wolves had gained the wall, and many of their ladders were still in place.

“Arrows!” Shouted the Ranger before him. Bernardo made to hand him the arrows, but the Ranger suddenly stiffened. A spear was protruding from the man’s back, and he plunged over the walls. A giant Orc’s head appeared where the Ranger had so recently been. Bernardo drew his sword and channeled mana into it. He swung at the Orc, who blocked his strike with its own redly glowing sword. The Orc now prepared to strike at him, and Bernardo realized that he had no space to dodge among the clamor of bodies. The exile was in trouble and desperately looked around for someone who could help him.

Suddenly, a Ranger lacking one arm and with his eyes gouged out slammed into the Orc, plunging a dagger into its chest. Both tumbled from the wall. Bernardo then saw a knight surrounded by Orcs, three spears protruding from his back.

Bernardo despised death. He bared his teeth and struck at the Orc once more, and once more, his strike was parried. Bernardo gave up then and closed his eyes. He wished that his death would be painless.

A squelching sound battered his ears. Had he been decapitated? Was he stabbed through the chest or stomach? Countless such scenarios pulsed through his mind, yet he felt no pain. Perhaps his death had been instantaneous, and he felt relieved at this. He was glad that his had been a clean death.

“What!? Why are your eyes closed, soldier? Just where do you think you are, the bloody beach?” A hand smacked into the back of his head, and he opened his eyes in shock. “Are you with the Wire Knights? Someone has sent an untrained whelp onto the walls!” Prince Adrian, drenched in blood, was yelling at him, his face contorted in anger.

“I… Well, Your Majesty!”

“Wake up! Ready your sword! If you can’t fight, leave the wall! You’re only getting in our way,” the Prince chided him, already moving on. As the First Prince made his way along the wall, Orcs were felled in droves before him.

“Pour it!”

Rangers upended great cauldrons of oil over the monsters, and flaming arrows ignited the fuel. The fire raged beneath the walls. Bernardo knew that if he had such cauldrons, he would have used them from the start. As the last Orc to gain the wall got beheaded, he backed away.

He could see Prince Adrian talk with the Count and his son some distance away. The Prince had not recognized him. The unfairness of this was felt stronger than his relief at having survived. He had been hovering around the Prince for some time now, hoping to be recognized. It was a really stupid idea, seeing as the Prince was normally found in the most perilous areas of any battle. Perhaps he was childish, though he could always make a comeback, and Prince Adrian always pushed through, refusing to give up.

The Orcs claimed the eastern wall, with countless people having died and more dying every minute. The eastern wall had become a realm of the dead and dying.

The Prince rushed into that terrible carnage.

“Fall back! Those who can, tend to the wounded!” Adrian cried out as he cut down Orcs, left and right. Rangers who could not run away stumbled into the battle. The Prince moved ever on as the number of Orcs increased. The First Prince became more wounded, yet more and more soldiers were saved by his blade as he did.

“You fools, don’t fight, fall back!” Even as he said this, the Rangers, seeming to have lost any semblance of common sense, continued to fight the Orcs despite their bruised and battered bodies. Many Rangers grabbed onto Orcs and pushed themselves over the walls in a last desperate attempt at killing the monsters. Bernardo could not help but wonder at their selfless sacrifice.

Why were these men so desperate? Many other men would discard all that they stood for, all their values, to survive. “Keep at it!” Bernardo shouted. Suddenly, he got shoved to one side, sprawling onto the ground as he groaned his confusion.

“This stupid child again!” Adrian shouted, and it took only a moment for Bernardo to realize who had saved him once again from certain death. “If you are going to stand about idling, I’d rather you put your head down!” Once more, the exiled feeling felt more prominent than the relief, for Prince Adrian had still not recognized him. ‘I came to this hell because of you,’ Bernardo thought as he grabbed his sword and clenched his jaw.

“If you’re going to fight, then do it right, Eli!”

“Hu… Huh!?” Bernardo turned to the Prince, but he had already moved on. “You remembered me…” he muttered.

“He has known you since he saw you. He just chose to say nothing on the matter.” The clear, calm voice was at odds with the chaos of battle. The man who had spoken stood beside the exile. “If you wish to fight, then fight. Otherwise, flee to the courtyard,” the high priest said as he readied his sword and went after the Prince. Orcs were swarming like angry hornets around the two men and two women.

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“Damn them, why do they keep telling me to run away!?” Bernardo set his jaw and readied his blade. “I shall follow the First Prince to the very ends of the deepest hells! Even if I die, I would still follow!” Bernardo bellowed. His heart thundered in his chest, and he knew that a new chapter had begun in his life. New aspirations that even he had been unaware of flowed from his words.

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Bernardo Eli and his extraordinarily bright blade rushed into the Orcs.

* * *

“Ah… oh…”

Bernardo was utterly exhausted, not even being able to lift his hand. If an Orc appeared at that very moment to rush at his throat, he wouldn’t even have the energy to scream. Fortunately, not a single Orc remained upon the walls. Not a living Orc, at least.

As Bernardo bent forward to catch his breath, he stared straight into a pair of bloodied boots. He looked into the face of their bloodied owner as the Prince stared down at him in turn.

“You say that you shall follow me, even into death?”

It seemed that even in the tumult of battle, Adrian had heard Bernardo’s cry.

“Wherever you go, I shall follow.”

The Prince nodded and turned around. “Let’s go over there, then.”

Bernardo stared blankly before him for a few seconds before the voice broke into is his ear canals. A woman possessing great beauty even under the layers of sweat, blood, and filth that covered her body followed the Prince along with Bernardo.

“From this day on, you have chosen to be in service to His Majesty the First Prince. You are no longer part of the royal army. If you don’t like that, tell me now. His Majesty has stated that he would never force someone into his service,” the woman instructed him. He now recognized her as the woman who had been harassed by a drunkard the other day. It had been the eldest son of Baron Balson, who the Prince had summarily discharged. He had eventually died from a weak and anxious heart, remaining a cheap and uncouth bastard to the very end.

If he still lived, Bernardo himself would have plunged a blade through his throat.

So there was Bernardo: A Scion of the Eli line, a family who had stubbornly clung to the use of Mana Hearts throughout the centuries. In Winter Castle, he had found a master to whom he had pledged his blade. He had also found a partner who he grew to love instantly, though that love would remain unrequited to the end.

* * *

The following is an account of the siege of Winter Castle. The author, Niccolo Marchiadel, had tried his best to give an objective account after witnessing the siege with his own eyes:

『The 1st day of siege: The King of the Orcs, named the Warlord, had led a large force of 20,000 Orcs to the fields around the castle. Even veteran mercenaries downed their weapons when faced with the overbearing presence of the beast. The Warlord had sundered the banner of Balahard with his own. He had thrust it onto the highest tower of the castle. First Prince Adrian Leonberger had ascended this tower and claimed the Orcish banner as his own. He had then blown the horn of victory. Soldiers entered into a battle song after taking heart at the Prince’s display.

The Orcs charged, and the siege began in full when Wolf Riders gained the battlements and attached ladders. This first wave of Orcs was driven off after a brave display by the soldiers. 50 cauldrons of oil had been set alight to ravage the enemy further.』

『Total Casualties Report: Deaths-89, including seven apprenticed knights / Wounded-114』

『The 2nd day of siege: Orcs attacked just before dawn. Their siege tactics were the same as before. The Winter Knights and Wire Knights had used their rings and were able to drive the Orcs off. However, the number of Orcs that yet remained was great indeed.』

『Total Casualties report: Deaths-114 / Wounded-240』

『The 3rd day of siege: Orcs constantly climbed and gained the walls. The Silver Fox mercenaries and the troops of the royal army fought on this day, giving the forces of Balahard time for some much-needed rest. However, these men struggled to hold the walls, and so easily had they been beaten back, the castle almost fell. After this poor display, the Rangers remained on the walls every day of the siege.』

『Total Casualties report: Deaths-294 / Wounded-None, for the Orcs killed them to a man』

Only

『The 4th day of siege: The Orcs captured the eastern wall. It was regained at the cost of the lives of many Rangers. The first knight lost his life on this day. Sir Lidoval Arnaim had been a cheerful knight that I had met personally on a few occasions. The Rangers were all exhausted after this day, and the number of defenders greatly lessened.』

『Total Casualties report: Deaths-371, mostly Rangers / Wounded-114』

『The 6th day of siege: Today, His Majesty, the Second Prince, had sustained wounds in battle. The call for a retreat from the wall had been rung, yet Prince Maximilian had remained until the end. His Majesty, the First Prince, had also suffered major and minor injuries. No one had advised him to retreat. I had asked why, and they had told me that he would not have listened to their sage advice.

The scions of the Leonberger line were fighting like young lions, true soldiers. The morale of the knights soared in the face of the resolve that the Princes showed. However, the number of foes was too great to remedy the breach in full.

『Total Casualties report: Deaths-224 / Wounded-199』

『The 13th day of siege: Talk of retreat had been heard for the first time during the council’s sitting. Count Balahard had strongly objected to such talk』

『More than 300 warriors had died, too many to count』

『The 15th day of siege: No sign of reinforcements. We are truly alone.』

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