186. Ragnarok (1)
*
Javelins, arrows, and axes flew through the air. Kirhas deflected the projectiles aimed at her and her horse as she charged forward. Not everyone could do what she did, so by the time the cavalry following her reached the wooden ramparts, their numbers had halved.
-Thud thud thud thud
“Ughhh!”
The horse foamed at the mouth as it galloped. Horses are timid creatures, sensitive to the numbers in their group. With each axe that struck, the surrounding mounted warriors crumbled and fell, causing the surviving horses to panic—some charging, some fleeing, and others breaking into a frenzy.
The number of cavalry was dwindling rapidly. The enemy’s resistance was fierce. The wooden ramparts loomed ahead. A warrior running beside her gasped and shouted.
“Captain! We need to flank!”
“If we turn back, we die! Charge!”
“Damn it! These bastards can’t breach that wall! Are we supposed to smash into it and die?”
“Spear!”
At her command, the warrior pulled a cavalry spear from the saddle and threw it. Kirhas caught the shaft mid-air with one hand, adjusted her grip, and pulled her arm back.
“Charge! Don’t stop!”
Kirhas shouted roughly as she gripped the spear. The northern cavalry spear was no different from a sturdy infantry spear. Due to the lack of developed mounted spear techniques, it wasn’t designed for lance charging.
So, keeping the spear from slipping relied solely on her grip strength, balance, and combat sense.
-Crash!
Kirhas slammed into the hastily constructed wooden ramparts. Her flexible waist absorbed the impact cleanly, transferring the full force of the charging horse into the ramparts.
“Ugh…!”
But human flesh, no matter how well-trained, is still human flesh. The heavy, frozen wooden ramparts shattered under her strike, but she was thrown from her horse and rolled onto the ground.
Her vision blurred. Kirhas groped for her numb right arm and scanned her surroundings with shaky eyes. The ramparts were destroyed, and her cavalry charged past her through the breach.
“Good… Not too late.”
The warriors on the ramparts scattered in panic, and resistance forces inside the camp rushed out to form a defensive line. However, hastily assembled infantry couldn’t stop cavalry in open terrain.
Her cavalry had spent the past few days training with her, becoming somewhat skilled in cavalry tactics. They couldn’t compare to the beastman cavalry of the Great Wilderness or the mounted warriors of the White Kingdom, but being proficient in “cavalry tactics” in the north was a significant advantage.
“Huff… It’s fine, it’s fine. Your Excellency endured worse injuries than this…”
Her right arm was twisted, and her shoulder dislocated. The excruciating pain sharpened her focus. She adjusted her limp right arm, dusted herself off, and stood up. It wasn’t time to fall yet.
“So, I’m still fine. I’m fine. There’s work to do.”
She needed to lure out the turtle’s head and buy time for Your Excellency to hunt. Kirhas jumped down from the ramparts and faced the warriors rushing toward her, crouching slightly.
Fear was etched in the warriors’ eyes—not fear of battle or death, but despair and dread for what loomed behind them.
This is what a world ruled by demons looks like, Kirhas thought as she observed their eyes. Was this scene an everyday occurrence in the other world where Fernandez had triumphed?
-Swish.
She couldn’t let it be. Your Excellency was nothing like the person he described from his past. To her, he was the only just figure in this filthy, despicable world. So, the world he wanted to create would at least be brighter and warmer than that one.
Her longsword rang clear as she drew it. She wasn’t used to fighting with her left arm, but having one arm intact was still a big win. If she could fight, she’d bite through the enemy’s throat even with just a pair of molars left.
Fernandez always said that the body is expendable. So… it’s still fine. Even if she had to end her life as a tool thrown into the battlefield, she’d do it with a smile to create the world he desired.
So, it’s still fine.
*
“Abel.”
Fernandez looked at Abel standing beside him. Abel was staring fixedly at the battlefield.
“It’s dangerous.”
Where she pointed, the warriors led by Kirhas were charging. The cavalry, rushing toward the defensive line, were met by demons emerging from within, causing a stalemate.
A halted cavalry was no different from a tall warrior. A skilled cavalry unit might have tactics to break through such a situation, but these men didn’t. The demons were growing in number.
“Still, still time.”
It was a battle of time. The enemy’s numbers were clearly dwindling. It wasn’t just due to casualties in battle. They were indiscriminately slaughtering their own to summon more demons.
So, it was a battle of time. Demons were a powerful asymmetric force, but their numbers were limited, and their firepower range was clear. Aeren’s forces avoided direct confrontation with demons, so more enemies were falling to their own hands than to the demons.
In the chaos of the battlefield, the only rule was numbers. Strong military power influenced the battlefield more from the outside. In a battlefield descending into utter chaos beyond the commander’s control, only the number of troops determined victory or defeat.
Thus, it was a stalemate. Erik’s leadership was summoning demons to gain an edge in Freya’s information warfare, sacrificing warriors to replenish their dwindling forces.
A vicious cycle. The enemy was reinforcing their self-destructive moves with more self-destruction. Erik must have known this.
-But it’s a battle of time.
The tide of the battle was slowly turning in Aeren’s favor. The dual frontlines created by Kirhas had completely surrounded the enemy camp, forcing them to disperse their forces.
However, it wasn’t a complete victory that could be sealed overnight. And when dawn came, Erik’s scattered forces—his main army—would arrive at this camp…
‘The encircling forces would be encircled, and the slaughter would begin.’
Fernandez looked at Kirhas’s forces. They had shaken the enemy, but the impact wasn’t fatal. They needed to be sharper, heavier. The enemy had to be thrown into irreversible chaos.
Disperse the enemy as much as possible, and at the very end, turn the remaining forces’ attention to the last of Erik’s troops—his personal guard and the corrupted northern god.
To open the gateway, Erik still needed to be alive. But the threat was enough to make it clear that if the gateway wasn’t opened, everything would fail.
“Enough already.”
“Abel. Help Kirhas. That front must not fall yet.”
“I’ve been waiting!”
Abel dashed out like a bolt of lightning. Unless she transformed into a dragon, her influence would be limited. Fernandez also didn’t expect more from her than saving Kirhas.
However, he still had one last tool.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a flare. Inside the shell was a magically treated explosive substance. It was the kind of device that would explode three seconds after ignition, emitting a massive flash.
-*Click.*
Fernandez flicked his fingers, striking a flint. The dry fuse caught fire with a *hiss*. He stretched his arm and hurled it high into the sky.
-*Boom!*
The shell shot across the night sky. For a moment, a red flame burned in the sky above the camp before fading. The warriors on the frontline had no time to notice the night sky, but anyone observing from outside the frontline would have seen that light.
“Do it, brother.”
This was the last threat he had prepared for Erik.
*
-*Boom!*
The flare dyed the sky red before fading. The figures watching from the nearby forest silently gazed at the night sky. Long shadows fell over their faces.
-*Clank.*
The visor of the helmet lowered with a heavy sound. The man at the front quickly checked the joints of his armor and then slightly moved his wrist to pull out a rosary.
-*Clink.* The sound of steel chains wrapping around gauntlets echoed coldly. The man held the rosary before his eyes, made the sign of the cross, and whispered.
“When falsehood and deceit, the temptations and trials of the world come upon us.”
“*We only ask for this.*”
The men behind him joined in unison. They too checked their weapons and stared ahead.
“When we wander amidst the powers of the world and the hatred of the wicked.”
“*We only ask for this.*”
The whispers became prayers, and the prayers grew heavier, boiling over.
“We are not peace, but we bring sword and fire.”
“*The repentance of this evil will be by Your side.*”
“Until the lighthouse of this life burns out, we only ask for this.”
“We will burn the demons, the heretics, the witches.”
In the darkness beneath the visor, a fiery light flashed. A mission with little chance of survival. It meant a greater threat than what was visible, and Fernandez had briefed that a gateway to Hell would surely open.
They finished their short prayer and made the sign of the cross. They had left their lives in the secular world, and since joining the Church’s secret order, death had become synonymous with martyrdom.
An Inquisition Officer could never close their eyes on a peaceful midday bed. The old Inquisition Officer was heading to a Hell filled with more experienced and cunning demons.
With that in mind, they began charging toward the enemy.
*
Erik stood before his military encampment on the highest ground of the camp, watching the collapsing frontline. Attempting information warfare was meaningless now. It was a battle where victory was certain if they could just hold out for one more day.
The enemies were threatening, but that was because they were spewing their last ounce of venom. Even if they won this battle, they had no future. The demons scattered in the north would engage in a power struggle the moment they lost their center, and northern civilization would inevitably fall, with Sadarkelisa becoming the final victor.
Therefore, the enemies’ desperate struggle was meaningless and thus unpredictable. It was a reckless move. They were no different from moths rushing to their glorious deaths.
And those ‘men’ were equally unpredictable.
“There are no more troops left, kid.”
Bard frowned as he spoke. All the demons that could be drawn from the frontline had been exhausted. There were no reserves left. Even if there were, would it matter? Erik frowned as he looked at them.
“Why didn’t they deploy such beings if they existed? Why not send them into the frontline from the start?”
“…What?”
“If they had such powerful beings, troops capable of slaughtering demons, why didn’t they deploy them from the beginning of the war? Why do you think?”
Erik’s words made Bard frown. What nonsense was he spouting?
“It’s not Freya. This is my thought.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I thought their leader was Freya. She’s a goddess, and she had clear reasons and motives to hinder us.”
Erik watched a group of warriors charging in this direction, slaughtering demons blocking their path. Five minutes left? Maybe even less.
“No. Freya was just the ‘eyes.’ Their leader… I don’t know who, but ‘they’ were digging a trap deeper, more meticulously, waiting for this moment.”
“What are you talking about, brat? It’s time to get out of here. If we escape alive, those humans won’t last more than a week no matter how fierce they are now.”
“Where do you plan to escape to?”
Erik looked at Bard with disdain. Surrounded by enemies, there was no escape route. Dawn was still far off, and they would be annihilated before his legion arrived.
Those warriors. Suddenly appearing… terrifying warriors like the Einherjar. Why deploy them at this moment, in this battlefield? Why weren’t they visible at the start of the war…
“They must have understood us terrifyingly well. Our strategy… our goals.”
“Shut up. If you’re not going, I’ll go alone. Their target must be these fools. Then it’s even better. You stay here and die to those mortals!”
“You must have been waiting for this moment. Waiting for my complete downfall. Impressive. A dead end. I lost.”
Erik ignored Bard’s words and turned his gaze toward somewhere in the bushes, where ‘they’ must be watching this battlefield. And then—
-*Swish.*
An axe struck Bard’s neck.
“Keuk… ugh?”
“I will open the gate.”
“Fool… you! That… that…”
“Yes. If we unleash uncontrollable demons onto this earth… the end awaiting us will be nothing like what you desire. Our failure, Bard.”
“You… you…”
Bard’s head fell, his bloodshot eyes staring at Erik. The countless blessings he had received shattered one by one, being sucked into some part of Erik’s body.
“Jörmungandr…!!”
[But isn’t this more fitting for Ragnarok, Bard?]
A snake-like pattern coiled in Erik’s eyes. Bard’s consciousness faded as he felt his divinity being completely drained.
-*Crack. Crunch.*
His headless body twisted and scattered, beginning to take on a certain form. Bones shattered, organs scattered, muscles twisted, and it began to resemble a gate made of flesh.
-*Whoosh…*
A lukewarm, sticky wind licked the hollow space of the flesh. Soon, darkness settled within. Slowly, dark green smoke seeped through the darkness. The gate grew larger, now on the verge of swallowing even Erik.
Erik’s tent shattered as the twisted flesh gate revealed itself above. A massive gate, completely replacing a living god in the material world, began to activate.
[Ah… I can feel the sensation of being alive.]
Beneath the gate, Erik laughed, resting the axe on his shoulder.
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