Overwhelming Firepower

While Lucen was messing around with his system, the people of the fortress had finished gathering up the bodies of the fallen.

Once the soldiers were done with their own dead, they turned to the monsters. The stench of ruptured entrails and frozen gore was rancid, thick enough to sting the eyes, yet the men endured.

Knives rasped against bone, their shrill scrape echoing in the frosted silence. Axes came down with dull, wet cracks, splitting hide and sinew alike.

Men worked methodically, hands numb yet unyielding, prying free every usable fang, every patch of leathery hide, every jagged claw glistening with half-frozen gore.

Each sound, the wrench of tendons, the thud of cleavers, mingled with the sickly perfume of blood and frost until the courtyard itself seemed like a butcher's hall.

The greatest prize, of course, was the Frost Titan. Its sheer bulk loomed like a toppled statue, radiating a cold that prickled the skin. Its materials were something they hadn't seen before.

Robert was the first one to examine the body of the Frost Titan. This was a being from legend, something that primitive humans thought was a Deity.

Unlike the legends thought, this Frost Titan was relatively small. Robert started thinking that this might be a younger Frost Titan, or the legends were exaggerating the size, but Robert believed the former to be true rather than the latter.

The proportions, the faint lines of growth still visible in its bones... Obviously, a juvenile. The legends had spoken of Titans that blotted out the sky. If this one was still so young, then the stories might not have been exaggerations after all.

Robert knelt beside the frozen corpse, his gloved hands brushing away sheets of brittle ice that clung stubbornly to its pale-blue hide.

Its skin felt like chiselled granite beneath Robert's gloves, cold enough to bite even through the leather.

Pale-blue flesh shimmered faintly beneath a glaze of rime, and thin wisps of frost drifted upward, curling like reluctant spirits leaving the body.

Even in death, the giant seemed unwilling to surrender its dominion, as though winter itself clung to its form in defiance.

"Fascinating..." He muttered, eyes gleaming behind the beak mask he was wearing.

Robert then stared at the dead Frost Titan and sensed the flow of mana, and was surprised. He had already sensed it before as he copied its mana flow, but to think it was something like this.

"Hohoho, this is an incredible finding. I guess there was a reason this being was once worshipped. Its flow of mana is in perfect sync with the flow of the environment's mana. It's like this being is part of nature itself. It's as if ice and snow became sentient."

Robert was becoming even more excited as he checked each part of the Frost Titan; just assessing one area was already taking a long time.

While he lost himself in discovery, others in the fortress had no such luxury. Death demanded attention elsewhere.

***

In another area, the members of Thornefang were helping with the deceased soldiers. As they were doing that, Greg asked Harlik a question.

"Ya think the little leader will be alright?"

When the question was asked, most of the Thornefang members looked at Harlik. Seeing the reaction of the others, Harlik showed a smile.

"Of course, he's alright. That's just the side-effect of the technique he used."

The older members of Thornefang who had been with Lucen for longer knew that he was not someone to go down so easily.

"So let's stop thinking about the little leader, and get back to work."

***

Vardon, who had exhausted himself from using the family's secret technique, was sitting on a chair on the high vantage point within the fortress, watching the soldiers work.

Thalos, who was with him, had drained every ounce of his arua and also needed some time to restore it.

"This was the hardest first wave I have ever experienced," Vardon spoke to Thalos.

"I want to say that you're exaggerating, my lord, but... This truly was something else. Normally, a being like that Frost Titan would only show up at the end of the waves, but to show up at the very beginning isn't really a good sign." Thalos answered with a frown on his face.

"Yes, something is changing... It was a good thing that I brought my son and his people this time. Because of those weapons of his, the outcome was better than I could have hoped for."

"Heh, that boy is full of surprises. I must admit his weapon was of great help."

"Still, even with these new powerful weapons, the next waves might get rougher. Since a Frost Titan showed up this early, in the later waves, something much worse might come." Vardon looked at the distance and sighed.

"That is true. The later waves might bring something that couldn't even be heard in the old songs."

Vardon's gaze didn't leave the field, his expression hard as the steel of his armor. "It doesn't matter what comes. We must do what we have always done, be the shield that protects Norvaegard and its people from any harm."

The moment Thalos heard what Vardon said, a vicious smile appeared on his face.

"It is as you say, my lord. We are the unbreakable shield of Norvaegard. It doesn't matter what foul ghouls or monsters come our way; we will protect our homeland and its people from all harm."

The two then looked at one another, and a slight curl of Vardon's lips appeared.

"It's good that you are here, my friend."

"It's been a while since you called me that, my lord."

"There's no need for such formalities when it's just the two of us."

"If you say so, Ardy," Thalos spoke with a chuckle.

"That nickname I haven't heard since... Veyra passed away..." Vardon, who was like steel, felt so vulnerable at this moment. For a moment, silence hung heavier than the snowfall.

Thalos's jaw tightened. His massive hands, encased in dented gauntlets, slowly clenched. The iron plates rasped against each other, grinding with a sound that cut through the quiet.

Those gauntlets had smashed through monster hides, splintered shields, and shattered stone walls, yet all their strength had been useless when it truly mattered.

Seeing Vardon like that, Thalos scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, I did not mean to bring back those memories."

"No..." Vardon answered, eyes still fixed on the blood-stained snow. "It's alright. You and I... We've both lost pieces of ourselves. My grief does not outweigh yours."

"... Heh, it seems like I have soured our conversation with such melancholy. Still... Despite all that, remembering the past, not just the bad parts but the good parts as well... It doesn't seem all that bad." Thalos showed a weak smile as he spoke.

"... I guess you're right... Even though the ending was not good, the other parts were great; they were the best. Even now, I could remember our times together, you and I alongside Veyra and Anita going out playing in the snow."

"Yeah... Even back then, I knew that I was in love with her. It was the greatest time of my life being her husband and having a child together... My lovely little Tala... If she were alive now, she would have been twenty-one. I bet she would be a knight just like her father." Thalos closed his eyes, remembering the face of his little girl. "She would be here fighting side by side with us."

His shoulders trembled once, then stilled. Suddenly, he slammed his gauntleted fist into the stone beside him. The impact rang like a war drum, stone cracking under the blow. Frost and dust shook loose from the wall.

"If I had this strength back then..."

Vardon turned to him sharply, and Thalos sighed.

"... If I had it, my daughter would still be alive."

The sound of the strike seemed to echo long after the fist had withdrawn, rolling over the fortress like thunder. When it finally faded, the silence it left behind pressed heavier than armor.

A jagged crack spread across the stone, thin and cruel, as though the fortress itself had been forced to share in Thalos's grief.

Vardon's eyes softened. He reached out, resting a scarred hand against Thalos's back, not as a duke commanding his knight, but as a man steadying his friend.

"We cannot bring back what is lost. Wallowing in what ifs... Will only bring more grief." Vardon patted Thalos's back.

"I'm sure that Veyra, Anita, and Tala are all in Velmira's gentle embrace. Even though they're not with us physically, their memories are with us. Isn't that what you said to me all those years ago?"

Thalos couldn't help but smile a bit.

"Heh, to think you would use my own words against me..." Thalos quickly got his spirits back up. "You've gotten a little bit more cunning now that you're older, Ardy."

"Well, I guess I did learn a little thing or two from those clowns in Caelhart."

The two then looked at each other with a slight smile on each of their faces. The quiet between them didn't last.

From the courtyard below came the clamor of hammers, saws, and shouted orders as the fortress worked feverishly to prepare for the next wave. The air stank of blood and smoke, and the wounded still cried out for clerics.

Vardon's smile faded, his eyes narrowing as he looked beyond the gorge. "We can reminisce some more later, but for now, we need to prepare for the next wave."

Thalos flexed his gauntleted hands, the muscles in his body tightening. "Then let it come. I will smash those monsters back to the abyss they came from."