"Gaaaah! Who are these bastards?"
"Regroup! Everyone, regroup now!"
"Where did they come from?"
The barbarians, who had been gleefully enjoying their raid, were suddenly ambushed by knights and thrown into chaos.
Confident that their main force had pinned down the northern fortress's troops, they had failed to set up proper defenses.
Obsessed with their plundering, they were caught off guard and completely overwhelmed.
Knights emerged from every direction. The barbarians tried to respond, but their opponents were far too powerful.
Each knight wielded mana, and when the barbarians tried to block with their axes, the axes shattered, and their heads flew off.
Barbarian warriors were undoubtedly strong. It was often said that a single warrior could handle three or more soldiers.
But even ten soldiers couldn't stop a single knight.
"Y-you bastards!"
A panicked barbarian warrior, scanning his surroundings, raised his axe to strike the neck of a hostage he was holding.
It was their brutal instinct to take out their rage on the nearest person.
Boom!
But before the axe could be swung, the warrior's head was smashed by a spear that flew out of nowhere.
Ghislain, who had thrown the spear, drew the sword from his waist and shouted.
"Don't leave a single one alive!"
"Understood!"
Lucas, responding the loudest, leapt off his horse and charged toward the barbarians like a bolt of lightning.
Boom! Boom!
"Gah!"
Every time Lucas thrust his spear, the barbarians' helmets and heads were crushed completely.
With each step he took, another barbarian warrior fell.
"Don't bully the weak! Fight me instead!"
Lucas's thunderous shout echoed above the flames.
Under Ghislain's leadership, his skills were improving at a tremendous pace.
As expected of someone who had become a master with a spear in his previous life, his talent was extraordinary.
"W-what the hell! Why is this bastard so strong?"
The barbarian warriors were shocked by Lucas's prowess. His spear moved so quickly that it pierced their axes and bodies before they could even attempt to block.
Lucas, who loved showing off, wasn't about to miss such an opportunity. He fought with all his might to save the villagers.
The other knights also rushed through the village, taking down the barbarian warriors.
Driven by urgency, they didn't hold back on their mana. Too many lives had already been lost.
Though the barbarians fought desperately to survive, they couldn't withstand the ambush of over a hundred knights.
"Gaaaaah!"
"I curse you all!"
"Our comrades will avenge us!"
The barbarians fell one by one, screaming. The raiding party, already small in number, didn't take long to be wiped out.
Even after killing all the barbarians, the knights couldn't feel any joy. The village was a scene of utter devastation.
"Waaaaah! Mom!"
"Honey, honey! Please open your eyes!"
"No! This can't be happening! Please!"
The survivors clung to the bodies of their loved ones, wailing.
Fires raged across the village, consuming their homes. The survivors would now have to either rebuild their village over a long time or join another village and live as outsiders.
This was the harsh reality of the North.
In addition to the barren land, the people constantly faced threats from monsters and barbarians.
Perdium held back most of the barbarians, but it was impossible to stop them all.
When the barbarians united, or managed to sneak past the watch, villages inevitably suffered.
Ghislain surveyed the scene with a bitter expression.
'For them to come this far south, they must be desperate for food as well.'
The villages had been relocated further south compared to the past, thanks to Zwalter's resettlement policies aimed at reducing the impact of raids.
The villages attacked this time had narrowly been excluded from those policies.
While it would have been ideal to relocate them as well, moving an entire village required significant resources. Finding livable land in the harsh North wasn't easy either.
Poor territories couldn't provide much support, and Perdium itself had only recently begun improving its situation.
The villagers couldn't easily abandon their homes, and even if they did, they had nowhere else to go. It wasn't as simple as it sounded.
Neighboring territories, also struggling with poverty, offered little to no cooperation against the barbarian threat.
'I'll need to send more workers to support them.'
Fenris was relocating all its outlying villages closer to its castles and fortresses, not just for war but also to prepare for future tribulations.
Ghislain planned to slowly transform Perdium into something similar. Workers were already building roads and facilities in key locations.
There was still much to prepare, but given the number of villages affected this time, he decided to increase the scale of support.
"Let's go back. We'll take the survivors to the fortress."
Leaving them here would mean certain death. They wouldn't survive even a day.
For now, they would stay at the fortress, and later, they would be sent to suitable villages along with aid supplies.
As Ghislain mounted his horse and prepared to leave, a boy stepped in front of him.
It was the boy Ghislain had saved earlier.
Looking at the boy, Ghislain asked.
"Do you have something to say?"
"You said… you would protect us, right?"
"Yes. What happened today is unfortunate, but I promise this won't happen again in the future."
At Ghislain's resolute answer, the boy hesitated briefly before speaking.
"You don't have to protect me."
"What do you mean?"
"I… I want to fight alongside you."
"How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
Ghislain silently studied the boy.
At fifteen, he was almost an adult, but he looked younger due to his small frame—likely from malnourishment.
"You're not ready. I'll provide you with food and, once you've grown stronger, you can join Perdium's soldiers…."
Ghislain paused mid-sentence as he looked into the boy's eyes.
Those eyes seemed familiar.
Though the boy was still trembling, his tears welling, and fear lingering, Ghislain recognized the emotions hidden behind them.
Guilt for being powerless.
Helplessness at having no strength.
Regret for failing to protect loved ones.
Despair and remorse, knowing there was no going back.
And…
"What is it that you want?"
"Revenge."
"What kind of revenge?"
"The death of all barbarians."
"..."
Ghislain knew those eyes and that emotion all too well.
The murderous intent to ensure one's enemies were destroyed.
The burning hatred so consuming it would sacrifice everything.
A madness that fed on suffering, driving one to destruction—whether it be the enemy or oneself.
It was the same look and feeling Ghislain had when he watched his territory perish in his previous life.
Drip.
A tear fell from the boy's wide, unblinking eyes.
But he didn't close them. He kept staring at Ghislain, as if he knew that the man before him was the only one who could fulfill his wish.
He silently, desperately begged for help in achieving his revenge.
Drip.
Another tear fell.
Ghislain looked at the boy in silence.
People react to tragedies in different ways, and their methods of coping or resolving their pain vary.
Most who experienced such an event consoled themselves with the belief that it couldn't be helped.
But this boy's attitude was eerily similar to Ghislain's own.
If guided poorly, he would become a notorious murderer. But if properly directed…
He could become an unavoidable terror for his enemies.
The boy's madness would only end when either he or his targets were gone.
Even without Ghislain's help, the boy had already chosen the path of blood.
He had resolved to live that way.
"When I return to the territory, I'll take you with me. I'll personally train you."
"Thank you!"
"You'll think it'd be better to die."
"I don't care. If I can't endure even that, I'd rather die."
At those words, Ghislain smirked, as if seeing his past self.
"What's your name?"
"Arel."
Ghislain's eyes widened momentarily in surprise before he chuckled softly.
Arel.
It was a name as familiar as the boy's determined gaze.
***
Thanks to the hard work of many, the barbarian raiding parties were completely found and eradicated.
The enraged Perdium army tracked down the tribes that had lost their warriors, but by the time they arrived, the tribes had already fled, likely having heard the news.
Returning to the fortress, Zwalter collapsed into a chair, muttering to himself. His face was marked with visible exhaustion.
"There were losses, but it's truly fortunate that we managed to stop them at this point."
Though his words expressed relief, his expression said otherwise.
Over the years, despite difficult and trying circumstances, they had managed to hold the line.
As a result, northern villages had rarely been raided. Even when attacks occurred, the Perdium army's swift pursuit had kept the damage minimal.
But now, unlike before, many lives have been lost. Zwalter could not feel at ease.
"Still, thanks to you, we were able to end it at this point. Thank you."
Seeing his father's pallid face, worsened in just a few days from the mental toll, Ghislain felt conflicted.
He had always fulfilled his responsibilities diligently, even at the cost of his own life. No matter how much those responsibilities shackled and tormented him, he never abandoned them.
As a son, it was impossible for Ghislain to feel entirely comfortable watching such a father.
"Soon, my territory will be able to produce more equipment. I'll send additional support. I'll also dispatch resources and workers to help rebuild the villages destroyed this time."
Currently, the fortress is crowded with refugees from the ravaged villages. The plan was to build new villages in suitable locations so they could resettle.
"Alright, thank you. You're giving great support to the territory."
Zwalter no longer reacted with the enthusiasm and joy he once had. He was simply too exhausted for that now.
A wolf, aging with its fur thinning and teeth dulled, looked pitiful. Zwalter had grown old, weighed down by decades of unending duty.
After taking a moment to collect himself, he asked,
"You said you came to secure horses? With the attack, we've gained quite a lot, so there should be plenty. Take as many as you need."
Since the victory was thanks to Ghislain, it was only right for him to claim the spoils. While they had fought together, Zwalter had no intention of being greedy and was prepared to hand over everything.
After all, Perdium had received far more from Ghislain over the years.
Besides, with their limited forces, Perdium wasn't particularly short on horses yet.
Listening nearby, Claude spoke to Ghislain.
"We've secured over 2,000 horses. That should be more than enough for immediate use. This ended quicker than I expected."
Two thousand horses was an impressive number, even across the entire kingdom of Lutania. It was an immense haul, a testament to the strength of the six tribes that had united.
Had the barbarians not banded together to attack, acquiring such a quantity wouldn't have been possible.
Of course, that was only possible because they had won.
Zwalter agreed with Claude's assessment and added,
"The tribes that united this time were located relatively close to the fortress. Now that they're gone, it should be safe for a while. We can use this time to regroup and recover."
While Lutania often referred to them collectively as barbarians, the truth was that they were divided into countless tribes.
Because of this, the tribes frequently fought among themselves to protect their respective territories.
With six tribes eliminated in this battle, the others would inevitably fight over their lands.
Until a new tribe established itself nearby, attacks on the fortress would naturally become far less frequent.
This granted the northern fortress a rare opportunity to rest and reorganize. But Ghislain still had unfinished business.
"I'm not planning to return just yet."
"Why? Do you have other matters to attend to?"
"Yes, I do. It's nothing significant."
The major battle was already over. Hearing Ghislain's comment that it was "nothing significant," Zwalter nodded lightly.
"Alright, what is it? Are you planning to help with the reorganization here? Or assist in rebuilding the villages? Whatever it is, having your forces assist will be a huge help."
Ghislain shook his head and replied,
"Before those bastards come back, we must strike first."
[T/L: Please support me and read 245 extra chapters: https://ko-fi.com/revengerscans ]