As the first light of dawn appeared, the exhausted caravan finally reached the middle of Scarville Mountain.
In the distance, nestled amidst shrubs and meadows, a small river flowed down the mountainside. In the deep winter, the river was completely frozen, and the snow-covered mountain and pristine sky made it seem as if a river from the heavens had descended to the earth. A mountain fortress stood there, consisting of two layers, looking quite imposing from afar.
"I hope this fortress welcomes us," Ryan said, riding his horse. The night's battle and the continuous journey had left him fatigued.
"Whether there's anyone inside or not, our job was to escort you here. The rest is up to you!" Grayblade Birger, with dark circles under his eyes, abandoned the group, leading the remaining dozen members of the Grayblade Mercenary Corps in another direction.
Last night's negotiations unsurprisingly broke down. The Grayblade Mercenary Corps demanded a share too high for the merchants to accept, wanting 30% of the profit from selling Heartstones.
Similarly, several wandering knights also demanded 30% of the profits.
After private discussions, Oliver and Mats decided that 30% of the profits from selling Heartstones would be evenly split between White Wolf Knight Ryan and Councilwoman Theresa Trovick.
As for the Grayblade Mercenaries and the wandering knights, they wouldn't get a penny.
The Bloodaxe Mercenary Corps, being directly hired by Theresa, would not share in the profits either.
Facing the prospect of easy money, Ryan saw no reason to refuse. He vaguely sensed that this situation might have arisen because of him. The beasts seemed well-prepared, not merely raiding the caravan but launching a premeditated attack.
Out of a sense of knightly duty and responsibility, Ryan felt compelled to help Oliver and Mats complete this transaction. Even if he did nothing, he wouldn't be blamed, but certain principles he needed to uphold voluntarily.
One must have principles.
"You wait outside; Esther and I will go in first." In the daylight, the mountain fortress was eerily quiet. Despite repeated calls from the caravan, there was no response from within.
The fortress's interior had partially collapsed, with many sections of the stone walls crumbling due to lack of maintenance. This led Ryan to conclude that bandits did not permanently occupy the exterior. If bandits were settled here, they would at least repair the outer walls.
Whether it was a trap, Ryan couldn't say. They would only know by going inside.
"I'll go in with Esther; you stay outside and wait," Ryan instructed the others before heading towards the fortress with Esther. The rest set up camp and rested, awaiting news.
With Emilia's help, Theresa managed to dismount and find a place to sit. The sorceress, pale and unwell, leaned against a rock but remained conscious.
The weather was gloomy, with a slight dampness in the morning air that seemed to seep into the bones. Emilia shivered slightly, her clothing not very thick—just a simple robe, leather armor, brown tight leather pants, and boots. Yet, her eyes were full of determination, unaffected by the cold.
"Emilia?" The sorceress suddenly spoke to the mercenary. Emilia's heart skipped a beat, and she subtly shrank back. "Miss Trovick, do you have any orders? Please tell me."
"No orders. I just thought your name was... special. What did you do before?" The sorceress forced herself to shift her focus from her discomfort, thinking she'd rather be carried by Ryan for the rest of the journey than endure the jolting of the horse or carriage any longer.
"Me? I was a merchant's daughter. During one of our trading journeys, our caravan was attacked by those damned beastmen. My father and uncle died in the battle, leaving me alone. Knowing that selling all our assets wouldn't cover the losses, I fled and became a mercenary," Emilia said, her head down, recounting a common story. The sorceress didn't think much of it and turned her attention to Emilia's swords.
The female mercenary carried two swords: a thin sword about 2.5 to 3 centimeters wide, which she often used, and a larger sword with the hilt and scabbard wrapped in thick burlap. The larger sword looked like a one-handed longsword, with a silver skull pommel similar to Ryan's sword.
"Your swords look special. Why do you carry two, like those Witch Hunters?" the sorceress asked.
Witch Hunters usually carried two swords: a silver sword for Chaos creatures and a steel sword for humanoids, beasts, or humans.
"This sword? This thin sword is ceremonial, not for combat. I grabbed it while escaping. As a woman, I lack the wrist strength of men, so I can't use those big two-handed swords. I ended up using this one," Emilia explained quietly. "The longsword is a family heirloom, once owned by an old empire noble. After the emperor's purges, its lands and titles were confiscated, and my ancestor bought the sword for a high price. I took it when I fled."
"I see," Theresa said, adjusting her position for more comfort. Seeing that Emilia had no intention of continuing the conversation, she said no more.
Inside the mountain fortress.
This fortress, built into the mountain, had high walls surrounding a courtyard and several towers three to four stories tall. A river from the mountain flowed through the middle, now frozen.
Ryan held his war hammer, the golden griffon-headed hammer gleaming in the dim fortress light. The half-elf followed closely, an arrow nocked and ready, watching the fortress intently.
The ground inside was covered with dead lichens and alpine moss, making a sound under Ryan's boots. Sunlight filtered through cracks and gaps, illuminating the empty entrance hall filled with stones, dirt, and weeds.
"There are signs of battle, but they seem old," Ryan said, examining the marks. "Esther, anything on your side?"
"It doesn't look like the fortress was breached. There are no signs of battle at the main gate," the half-elf noted, inspecting the walls and pillars. "The enemy didn't come from outside."
"Internal conflict? Aren't they afraid of the kingdom's justice? Let's check elsewhere," Ryan suggested, finding nothing in the hall and deciding to explore the towers.
"The door's blocked. We can't get in," the half-elf said, trying to force open a wooden door. "It's not just barred; something is blocking it."
"Stand back." Ryan raised his hammer, and the half-elf stepped aside, knowing what Ryan intended. He almost protested, but seeing the White Wolf Knight badge, he held his tongue.
"Boom!" The sound of the hammer striking echoed through the hall.
At the same time, there was a commotion behind the door. Ryan signaled to Esther: prepare for battle.
"Boom!" Another strike, and the door began to crack. Esther readied his bow. "Barbaric and violent."
"We don't have a locksmith. Birger is gone, dear Esther," Ryan said, raising the hammer again. "So we keep it simple."
"Boom!" The third strike shattered the door, and a horde of green creatures surged out, wielding swords and charging.
"Waaaaagh!"
"Waaaaagh!"
Dozens of goblins poured out like a green tide. Among them was a burly orc, wearing ragged armor and wielding a large blade, emitting a foul odor as it charged at Ryan. "I'm gonna bash you good, human!"
It's a greenskin grunt! The basic soldiers of the orc hordes!
"Eat shit!" Ryan spat, sweeping his hammer and sending the first wave of goblins flying. He grabbed one by the head and crushed it, tossing it aside.
Ryan took a step back, meeting the orc's charge. The orc's heavy slash was met with Ryan's hammer, and with a powerful counterattack, he struck the orc's right shoulder.
"Argh!" The wounded orc became more ferocious, its left hand swinging the blade with greater force. Ryan hesitated briefly before blocking the blow. He grabbed a goblin attempting to backstab him, flinging it at the orc. The goblin collided with the orc, getting its head stuck in the orc's mouth.
A flash of white psychic energy cut through the goblin and orc, severing both heads.
"Ryan! Help me!" Esther was struggling against the goblins, his close combat skills lacking. He fumbled with his daggers, barely defending himself.
Goblins ranged from ordinary to elite levels, while Esther, an elite ranger, was having trouble. Ryan found it amusing but also realized something.
The half-elf was terrible at close combat. While rangers weren't usually experts in melee, they weren't this clumsy. His leather armor had several cuts.
Ryan threw a goblin head, hitting another goblin. Seeing their leader dead, the goblins panicked and fled.
"Run away!"
The remaining goblins retreated into the tower, leaving their dead behind.
"Your advanced class is Jungle Archer, right?" Ryan asked, helping Esther up.
"Such barbaric, crude fighting. These greenskins are always so disgusting, like their stench. The best way is to burn them with fire!" the half-elf grumbled, covered in dust. "Looks like there are greenskins here."
"So we must act quickly," Ryan said, heading further into the tower.
Feeling embarrassed, the half-elf quickly followed.
Descending the tower's spiral staircase, they found a scene of horror. The basement was filled with human and greenskin skeletons. A large hole in the wall told the story of the battle. The soldiers had fought valiantly, all facing the hole, none turning their backs.
"It's the greenskins. They tunneled into the tower's basement. The soldiers fought to the death, but were overwhelmed. Perhaps some retreated, perhaps not. In any case, Lord Velarde or another noble decided not to reclaim this place. Once the underground tunnels were breached, who knows how many greenskins could pour in? Today it's goblins, tomorrow it might be orc warriors, and eventually, a full greenskin horde," Ryan surmised, examining the deep, dark pit.
The sheer darkness of the tunnel exuded a chilling aura. Ryan attempted to block it with some materials, but he knew it wouldn't hold the greenskins back.
"We can't stay here tonight. We need to rest outside and move on immediately," Ryan decided, understanding that the fortress was unsafe due to the tunnel.
"Let's check upstairs," he suggested.
The two climbed the tower, finding more evidence of the fierce battle. The upper floors were better preserved, with intact furniture and less damage. Ryan and Esther searched each room carefully.
In one of the rooms, they discovered a stash of old weapons and armor, remnants of the garrison that once defended the fortress. The equipment, though aged, was of good quality and could be useful in the upcoming battles.
"We should take some of these. They might come in handy," Ryan suggested, picking up a finely crafted sword and testing its balance.
Esther nodded, gathering some arrows and a dagger. "Agreed. These are still in good condition."
As they continued their search, they found a small chest hidden under a bed. Inside, there were a few gold coins and a map showing the nearby region, including potential safe routes and hideouts.
"This could be useful. Let's bring it back to the others," Ryan said, folding the map and placing it in his pouch.
They finished their search and returned to the camp outside the fortress. The rest of the group was resting, tending to their injuries and preparing for the next leg of their journey.
Ryan and Esther shared what they had found, and the decision was made to move out as soon as possible. The discovery of the underground tunnel meant that the fortress was no longer a safe haven.
As they packed up and prepared to leave, Theresa approached Ryan. "Did you find anything useful inside?"
Ryan handed her the map. "We found this. It shows some safe routes and hideouts. We should be able to use it to avoid further encounters with the greenskins."
Theresa examined the map and nodded. "Good. We need to move quickly. The longer we stay here, the greater the risk."
The group set off, following the path indicated on the map. The journey was challenging, with rough terrain and the constant threat of greenskin ambushes. But with Ryan's leadership and the valuable information from the map, they managed to navigate through the dangerous territory.
As night fell, they found a sheltered spot to set up camp. The mood was tense, but there was a sense of determination among the group. They knew they had to stay vigilant and work together to survive the journey ahead.
Around the campfire, they shared their rations and discussed their plans. Theresa, though still weak, contributed to the discussion, her strategic insights proving valuable.
Ryan took the first watch, his senses alert for any signs of danger. The events of the day weighed heavily on his mind, but he knew they had to keep moving forward. The mountain fortress had been a stark reminder of the perils they faced, but it had also provided them with the tools they needed to continue their journey.
As the night wore on, the group took turns keeping watch, ensuring that they would not be caught off guard. Despite the challenges, they were determined to reach their destination and complete their mission. The journey was far from over, but they were ready to face whatever lay ahead.