237 Side Story Chapter Riftan seized the opportunity. He charged his mount at an ogre, slicing off its leg. When the fifteen-kevette giant lurched and toppled to the ground, one of the knights riding behind him immediately plunged his spear into the ogre’s heart. After barking orders at the soldiers inside the barrier to retrieve the javelins, Riftan immediately charged another monster. The burly creature twice his size rushed toward him with cannonball-like speed. He narrowly ducked the mace flying at his head and jabbed his sword between the ogre’s ribs. The ogre let out a deafening roar and swung its fist in the air. Before the monster’s attack could land, its gigantic head flew off its neck. “Can’t let you have all the fun, Captain!” Hebaron shouted, brandishing his claymore, which towered as tall as its owner. Riftan dodged out of the collapsing ogre’s path. A deep rumble shook the ground as it landed, causing rock fragments to pour down the cliff. Riftan hastily steered Talon away from the rockslide and assessed the situation. Having yanked out all the javelins from the monster carcasses, the soldiers had the crossbows ready once more. He ordered the knights to disperse. “Fire!” Dozens of javelins shot through the air and pierced the monsters rushing down the mountain. When their giant forms staggered and began tumbling down the slope, the knights galloped forward. They severed the monsters’ heads in single strokes. When the stomping and earth-trembling roars finally ceased, the giant corpses of thirty-four ogres lay strewn over chunks of rock. Riftan pulled off his blood-drenched helmet and peered over the silent valley. Though he felt no other presence nearby, it was only a matter of time before the carnage attracted other predators. “Gather the weapons!” he bellowed. “We leave this place at once!” The knights stood guard as the soldiers loaded the crossbows into the wagons. Some went to retrieve the javelins, iron maces, and steel bolas. Riftan frowned as he gazed up at the cloudy sky. The volatile mountain weather was impossible to predict. Rain would have allowed them a moment’s rest without having to worry about monster attacks. Despite the overcast, humid few days, however, a downpour did not materialize. He inhaled a lungful of the damp, icy wind and sheathed his sword. Talon appeared to be similarly exhausted from the constant march. The horse stood irritably stomping his hooves. After pacifying him, Riftan once again set out with his men. The soldiers silently followed behind. An oppressive air fell over the party. Months had passed since they had started searching for the dragon’s lair, but the only progress they had made was using up their provisions. Riftan counted the remaining baggage wagons, doing his best to conceal any anxiousness. Having lost a portion of their supplies to endless monster attacks, the campaign party was facing a crisis. It was impossible to tell how long it would take the supply party to reach them despite the marks they had left for ease of tracking. Something had to be done. In an authoritative voice, Riftan encouraged the soldiers along. “We will rest once we are out of this valley! Hold strong until then!” Riftan frowned as he sensed the decline in the men’s morale. Though the soldiers were getting by admirably, no man could endure hunger and exhaustion forever. There was little game this high in the Lexos Mountains. The men had fought fifteen skirmishes in the past few weeks on only rock-hard bread, cheese, and jerky. They were scarcely able to get more than five hours of uninterrupted sleep. When they did manage it, it was always over cold ground, battered by icy winds. Whenever they had to bury a comrade felled by monsters, the men would murmur, “May you rest in peace” in voices heavy with envy and sadness. Despite Riftan’s hopes for rain, the sky gradually cleared. Sunlight streamed over them as if in scorn of his wish. Cursing, he sped Talon on. Elliot came galloping up from his post at the rear. “Commander! The men are falling behind back there.” “They will have to keep up until we’re out of this valley,” Riftan said firmly before thundering away through the rocks. They pressed on for a few more hours until they reached a cliff that offered unobstructed views of the terrain. As they ventured out to the edge, the sky seemed to peel back. Gray boulders and dark green conifers cluttered the mountain range. They were at such a high elevation that fog as thick as clouds covered the ground like a woolen carpet. Above them, the rugged mountains seemed carved with a chisel. How much blood had they shed while marching across those peaks? “How much farther to go, Commander?” “Rally the men. We will rest over there,” Riftan said, pointing to a forest across the open path. Gabel squinted ahead, gauging the distance, and steered his horse back to his unit. When they finally reached a safe spot, Riftan ordered the soldiers to rest while the knights scouted the area. “We found no signs of monsters.” “Assign guards while the rest set up camp. We will spend the rest of the day here.” “Will that be all right?” “A further search would be impossible anyway. Right now, our primary concern is to hold out until we replenish our supplies.” While the knights set traps and bells around the perimeter as a precaution, the soldiers unloaded poles and tar-coated cloth from the wagon to begin setting up a temporary camp. After thoroughly scouting the area, Riftan dismounted and unsaddled Talon. The horse snorted loudly and shook his head as if glad to be rid of the load. “You’re doing well,” Riftan murmured. He stroked the warhorse’s muscled neck before leading him to fresh grass. This was their first moment of reprieve in weeks. The soldiers shucked off their heavy armor and settled around campfires, chatting merrily. They made a stew by dumping herbs, jerky, dried potatoes, and stale bread into a large pot and boiling it over a slow fire. Soon, wrapped in their filthy blankets, they began wolfing down their meals. Hebaron was shoveling stew into his mouth by the fire. He croakily called out, “Join us, Captain. You deserve a good rest as much as us.” “It’s Commander,” said Ursuline, who was eating beside him. “When will you stop calling him Captain?” “Commander, Captain — sounds the same to me,” Hebaron grumbled, burying his head in his bowl. Riftan sat between them and accepted his ration. As the hot soup traveled down his throat, he felt his wind-chilled body melt in the warmth. They devoured their bland food as if it were a rich meal. A bell tolled in the distance. Riftan shot to his feet, his hand reaching for his sword. The other knights followed suit. “Goddammit, they just can’t let us rest, can they? These bloody mountains!” Hebaron continued to curse as he put on his helmet. After giving the order to prepare for battle, Riftan hopped onto Talon without bothering with a saddle and galloped in the direction of the sound. To his surprise, what awaited them between the trees was not a monster but soldiers bearing the insignia of the Wedonian crown. Relief coursed through him. Spotting Riftan, the soldiers cried out to the rear, “We found the scout party!” Riftan rode past the trees and looked down to the bottom of the bleak mountain. Soldiers carrying the flag of Wedon were marching up in a long procession. The supply party had finally arrived. “I guess we can breathe a little easier now,” Elliot said, letting out a long sigh. Riftan nodded as he slid his bastard sword into its sheath. “Let us go meet them.” The soldiers gladly gave up their respite to help ferry the provisions. Leading the army was Princess Agnes, who rode up to Riftan and the knights, her dark green cloak fluttering in the wind. “Long time no see.” The princess swept her eyes over the knights, a relieved smile playing on her lips. “I must have arrived in the nick of time, seeing as everyone is all right.” “We were expecting you earlier,” Riftan said curtly as he dismounted. “Were our marks difficult to trace?” “The eastern search party sent a message while we were tracking you. We had to investigate a few things on our way here, hence the delay.” “Did they discover something?” Gabel asked. The princess nodded. “We may have found the location of the rune responsible for the barrier surrounding the mountains.” Riftan narrowed his eyes at the princess’s choice of words. “May have?” “The Temple Knights discovered the rune that forms the eastern half of the barrier,” the princess hastily explained as she hopped down from her chestnut warhorse. “According to the Arexian mages who studied them, there is a high chance that the other half is located in an area that is symmetrical with the eastern rune’s. It took us longer to get here as we had to meet with the Osiriyan knights to deduce the remaining rune’s location.” Riftan’s expression grew serious. They had been aimlessly wandering the Lexos Mountains for two years. Hearing that they were closer to finding the dragon’s lair, he felt imbued with newfound energy. Once the barrier was gone, the mages would be able to track the dragon’s magic and thus its location. It also meant they would soon have to face the formidable monster. ... As if reading his grim thoughts, the princess said with a light smile, “Let us discuss this further while we rest. I must say, the long journey has worn us out as well.” Riftan stared down at the princess’s flushed, damp face before turning away. The sky overhead was a sea of purple. Princess Agnes and the other mages cast a barrier around the camp to protect it from monsters, then ordered her men to set up the tents. Soldiers ferried the provisions from the supply party for what seemed like an age. Liquor casks, dried fruits, chunks of meat, flour, and butter — the sight of such luxuries they had not seen for a long time left the knights grinning ear to ear. “Drink at last!” Hebaron bellowed, his gruff voice ringing across the camp. Riftan was about to yell that there would be no carousing when he stopped himself. The brutal march through the mountains under constant threat of monster attacks had plunged the men’s morale to rock bottom. A small reward would bolster their spirits. After assigning soldiers to stand watch, Riftan allowed the men to feast on the liquor and greasy food. “Make sure not to drink yourselves into a stupor. I trust that none of you are foolish enough to render yourself incapable of fending off an ambush.” The stern warning did little to dent the men’s smiles. It was not entirely surprising. After all, they had led the ascetic lives of monks for the past two years. To be allowed sparkling ale, greasy meat, and buttered bread was akin to entering heaven. Sitting by the fire, Riftan felt a twinge of bitterness. Princess Agnes eased herself onto the ground opposite him and inquired about their search efforts. “We found a labyrinth during the march, but nothing besides that,” Riftan said, taking a sip of wine. “Our mage believes the dragon is using its powers of compulsion to breed monsters of lesser intelligence. This area is teeming with ogres, golems, and the undead.” Princess Agnes flicked a glance at Ruth, who was crouched in the corner poking at the campfire. She scoffed. “Are you sure your mage didn’t miss anything? Who knows? You might have found something in the labyrinth had you inspected it more thoroughly.” “Now you are just being mean, Your Highness.” Hebaron walked over to them with a large cask balanced on his shoulder and plopped down by the fire. “Our mage would be nothing if not for his skills.” ... “You forget about my lithe frame, winsome face, and brilliant mind!” Ruth cried. Princess Agnes shot him a cold, disdainful glare before turning her back as if writing off his presence entirely. Accepting the cup of liquor Hebaron proffered him, Riftan asked the princess, “Where is the location of the remaining rune?” The princess pulled out a map and spread it on the ground. “We think it’s likely located halfway up this mountain, at the western end.” “Looks like we’ll have to go around the mountains to get there.” Studying the map, Riftan tried to draw up a rough route in his head. It would take them at least two weeks. “As soon as the barrier is broken, all of the kingdoms will send reinforcements. The Mage Tower has also promised to send high mages. They will cast a new barrier to seal off the Lexos Mountains to prevent the dragon’s escape.” The princess pointed to various spots on the map with a tree branch. “The mages of the Mage Tower are trying to weaken Sektor’s magic as we speak. They are setting up runes that disrupt the flow of mana all over the mountains. The plan is for the allied forces to slay the dragon while it’s weakened.” The princess’s blue eyes grew dark. “I’m sure you know the dragon subspecies are highly resistant to magic. It makes most magical offensives useless. Imagine how much greater resistance a dragon would possess. Once the battle commences, the mages will have to fall back, leaving the swordmasters and holy magic-wielding hierarchs to lead the fight. The Remdragon Knights will likely have to battle on the frontlines as well.” “We are prepared for that,” Riftan replied before downing his ale in a single swig. “How many reinforcements can we expect?” “About twelve hundred men.” “So, about half that number will make it to the dragon’s lair.” The princess’s eyes grew clouded at his cynical remark. Exorbitant sums of money and soldiers were needed to fund a long-term campaign. Kingdoms could not spare the entirety of their trained forces, so each monarch was trying to make up for inadequate numbers with mercenaries and prisoners. The majority of such men either deserted because of the harsh conditions or died in battle due to inadequate skills. Fewer than half were truly helpful. Well aware of this fact, Agnes muttered, “The landed nobles are also having a hard time containing the monsters. Demanding more taxes or conscripts could cause them to rebel.” “And if we fail to defeat this dragon, the Western Continent will be thrown into turmoil.” Unable to argue, Princess Agnes pursed her lips. Riftan’s face hardened. The fact that the princess had personally led an army to the campaign was evidence that Wedon’s royal family was already doing everything they could. The problem lay with the landed nobles, who were too busy trying to pass their responsibilities over. Riftan gritted his teeth as the Duke of Croyso’s conniving face sprung to mind. A second later, as it always did whenever he thought of the snake, another face followed. His anger quelled, and a strange emptiness took its place. He suppressed the urge to ask the princess about her. The only news he had gotten since departing for the campaign was word that she was not with child.