Reincarnated as the Descendant of a Fallen Noble

Episode 82: The Old Man of the Snowy Mountain. (5)

Ka-ga-ga-gang! Ka-ga-gang!

Hardin deflected the ice spikes.

Wounds, both large and small, formed on the back of his hands, wrists, and face, with blood seeping out.

But still.

“Let’s go, let’s go!”

There was no fear or terror on Hardin’s face as he charged forward.

No—in fact, he even looked as if he was enjoying himself.

Where in the world did such confidence come from?

And right behind Hardin.

Woooooong!

“……”

Princess Medeia followed closely with a serious expression, clutching a sword glowing with an orange hue.

She didn’t even turn her head.

Step by step, she advanced, her eyes fixed solely on Hardin’s back.

It felt as if a massive shield had been placed before her.

Ka-ga-ga-gang! Ka-ga-gang!

The surrounding scenery and even the noise disappeared, leaving only the sound of Hardin slicing through the ice spikes echoing in the air.

Her grip on the sword tightened, and the resolve in her eyes grew firmer.

It felt like only Hardin, herself, and the ice giant beyond remained in this world.

Taat!

She stretched out her leg—and the distance closed.

Taaat! Taaat!

The more she extended her stride, the faster the gap narrowed.

The distance to the giant.

The final strike to put an end to this battle.

Just as the two of them reached the giant.

“Iiiiiiik!”

The old man’s elongated shout rang out, and at the same time, the ice giant extended its fist toward them.

In that instant, Hardin tilted his head slightly to the side.

Medeia flinched and frowned as she saw his face scratched and bloodied by ice fragments.

But she wasn’t shaken.

His eyes spoke clearly.

‘Go.’

Kki-gik! Kki-gik!

“Ura-cha-cha-cha!”

The blue blade Hardin thrust clashed with the giant’s fist, creating a metallic screech that pierced the ears.

The end of the giant’s fist shattered, and fragments scattered through the air.

Kaaang!

At the same moment, Hardin’s sword snapped and flew through the air, the broken blade grazing and slicing his cheek.

But Hardin didn’t even flinch.

Rather, as if he had expected this all along, he stood firm and shouted boldly.

“Now!”

Medeia didn’t miss that opening.

Without breaking her stride, she rolled her foot forward.

Tadat! Taaat!

Leaping off the snow, Medeia stepped on Hardin’s shoulder and jumped once more.

Her body soared high and shot straight toward the giant’s chest.

“Medeia… Princess!”

Beyond the wall of ice, the twisted face of the old man met Medeia’s gaze.

He quickly moved his hands, controlling the giant.

Spikes sprouted from the giant’s body, and its remaining fist swung toward Medeia.

However, Medeia's body surged forward even faster.

‘Hardin Daphne.’

She gripped her sword tighter.

A strike infused with light as fierce as the sun—drawn from all of her mana and forged through Hardin’s sacrifice.

As if pouring everything out, Medeia thrust both arms forward.

Kwa-ji-jik! Kwa-ji-ji-ji-jik!

The orange-hued sword pierced through the ice barrier of the giant and drove deep inside.

“Thanks to you.”

Medeia muttered quietly and clenched her teeth.

Immediately after—

Kwaaaang!

An intense explosion erupted with a burst of orange light, tearing the giant apart.

Thick smoke billowed as Medeia’s body was thrown back.

“Khuh!”

She barely managed to land using a rolling fall.

Biiiiiiii.

A ringing pierced her ears, and her vision wavered.

A flood of thoughts rushed in all at once.

‘Did I do it?’

What about Hardin Daphne?

What happened to the ice giant?

The smoke made it impossible to discern anything.

As Medeia turned her gaze around in confusion—

“Haeeek… haeeek… I’m so damn exhausted.”

To the side, she saw Hardin sprawled flat on his back.

He looked drained, but fortunately, his life didn’t seem to be in danger.

Medeia let out a long breath, the tension on her face easing slightly.

Soon, the smoke gradually dispersed.

“Cough! Cough! Couuugh!”

Where the giant had stood—on the deeply sunken ground—the old man could be seen slumped down.

His white robe had burned away, and half his body had turned into a charred lump, emitting a foul stench.

Seeing him cough up blood, it was clear he had sustained fatal wounds.

The fact that he was even alive was a miracle.

“Uhehehe… uhehehehe… Impressive, Princess Medeia. You broke through my defense.”

Had he resigned himself to death? Or did he still have composure?

The old man let out a hollow laugh and looked her way.

Medeia propped herself up using her sword.

‘I’ll finish this.’

Staggering.

Medeia steadied her sword and stepped forward one foot at a time.

She had to end that old man’s life.

And she wanted to know who had ordered him… to carve that name into her memory.

Cheok!

Medeia stepped right up to him, thrusting her sword toward his neck, and said,

“Answer my question. Then… at least I’ll send you off without pain.”

“…Hehehe, what could you be so curious about? Cough! Couuugh!”

“Who gave you your orders?”

Then the old man flashed a sinister smile and replied,

“Why ask me that? You already know the answer, don’t you?”

“……”

So it was as she suspected.

Medeia closed her eyes tightly for a moment, then opened them and raised her sword.

And just as the sword fell—

“Hey, no!”

Hardin’s shout rang out from behind.

Kwa-ji-ji-jik!

But it was already too late. Medeia’s sword had already sliced through the old man’s neck and struck the ground.

The light vanished from his eyes, and his body collapsed forward, lifeless.

‘It’s over.’

Medeia let out a deep sigh and dropped the sword she had been gripping to the ground.

She steadied her breath and released the tension in her body, closing her eyes tightly.

That’s when it happened.

“Princess… a battle isn’t over until it’s truly over.”

“…?”

A chilling voice echoed from below.

When Medeia opened her eyes and looked down—

The severed head of the old man was staring up at her with glowing red eyes.

‘What in the world…’

Startled, Medeia’s body froze.

“Uhehehehehehe!”

The severed head let out a maniacal laugh.

At that moment, the old man’s fallen body began to tremble violently.

Chwaaaaak!

It suddenly shot out dozens of tendrils like arrows.

There was no time or distance to dodge or block it.

‘I’ve been had.’

…was what she instinctively realized at that moment.

Kwa-ji-ji-jik!

“You really are a handful.”

A familiar back appeared before Medeia’s eyes.

Blonde hair, a worn noble’s uniform—the back of a man she knew well.

“A-are you alright?”

As Medeia hurried over in a panic—

She saw Hardin, bleeding heavily from his shoulder and thigh, while in front of him, the tendrils had been shredded and were now writhing weakly.

“Can’t you see? Do I… look alright to you?”

“S-sorry. I didn’t expect this at all…”

Medeia stood awkwardly, unsure of what to do, only twitching her hands.

Fssshhh!

A spurt of blood shot from the top of Hardin’s head.

With that, Hardin scrunched his brow tightly.

“I told you not to do it, you damn human…”

He drew out the last word as he stared at Medeia—

Kuuung!

And then collapsed face-first.

“H-Hardin!”

A scream-like cry echoed across the snowy mountains.

‘What the hell… what a damn ordeal.’

Taking care of a brat isn’t easy… not easy at all.

As his eyes shut, Hardin cursed endlessly in his heart.

---

At that moment, roughly one or two minutes away from where Hardin had fallen, on a snowy plain—

Tadadat! Tadadadat!

Something with spider-like legs sprouting from beneath the old man’s severed head scurried rapidly across the snow.

His face, twisted in rage.

‘Damn it… that was dangerously close.’

He had tightened the noose around Princess Medeia’s neck, almost to the end, but thanks to that unexpected intruder, the whole plan had unraveled.

All his disciples were dead, and he’d even lost the magic stone.

It was the first time in his life that Rashanti, the sorcerer and Guru of the Blackthorn Society, had tasted such disgrace and humiliation.

His severed head briefly paused in place and turned to look behind him.

Toward the direction where Hardin and Medeia would be.

His face was full of rage and irritation.

“Vengeance… will have to wait.”

For now, reporting to that person took priority.

Tadadadat!

Suppressing his fury, Rashanti—or rather, Rashanti’s head—raced off in the opposite direction once more.

---

In front of the gates of Ruslan Fortress.

“W-what is this?”

“Huhhh…?”

The soldiers atop the walls and the knights who had been battling fiercely just moments ago all stared in shock.

And understandably so…

—Kkieeek! Kkueeek!

The monsters that had been charging toward Ruslan Fortress as if guided by a single will had suddenly turned on each other, tangled in a chaotic brawl.

Many of them even scattered and fled the area altogether.

—Kkuoooo…

Furthermore, the Frost Ghouls that had previously surrounded the fortress now lay crushed and shattered across the ground, as if they had never posed a threat.

“What kind of sorcery is this, Lieutenant?”

“I’m not… quite sure myself.”

Before the corpse of a cyclops—

Kwa-jik!

Benjamin pulled out the sword embedded in its chest and responded to the knights’ questions.

His entire body, drenched in blood and sweat, told the tale of how brutal the battle had been here.

Meanwhile, in front of the blue-stained ground piled high with the corpses of Ice Hogs like a mountain—

Mikkelsen and Beryl blinked at each other.

“Could it be… that thing?”

“Probably.”

“But how? I didn’t think that guy could even use magic.”

“How would I know?”

Both of them glanced toward the snowy plains beyond, as if guessing what might’ve happened.

After all, every unbelievable event they had experienced since arriving in Daphne had involved ‘that guy’ in some way… so their reaction was only natural.

“……”

Even amidst this unexpected spectacle, none of them had yet loosened their grip on their weapons, tension still thick in the air.

—Kkieeeeeeek!

“Get lost!”

Kwa-jik! Kwa-ji-ji-jik!

There were still a few monsters who had lost their way or couldn’t control their excitement and charged in.

At that moment, atop the fortress wall—

“Cough! Cough! Hyungnim…”

Among the archers stood Malion, sword in hand, coughing as he parted his dry, cracked lips.

From leading the refugees to barking orders at the soldiers without pause… his throat had gone completely hoarse.

A look of concern had crept onto Malion’s face.

‘Why isn’t he coming?’

The monster wave had stopped, and the immediate crisis seemed to be over.

Nine times out of ten, Hardin and Princess Medeia must’ve done something.

But no matter how much time passed, Hardin didn’t show his face.

He was the type who’d claw his way back even if thrown into lava, but now that so much time had passed without a sign of him…

The cold wind chilled the sweat on his back, and an uneasy worry began to settle in Malion’s chest.

That was when—

“Th-they’re coming!”

“Huh?”

A soldier atop the wall pointed toward the snowy plain and shouted.

Everyone’s eyes followed the direction of his finger.

“Hy-hyungnim?”

“Princess!”

The two figures could be seen trudging slowly across the snow toward them.

“Hold on tighter.”

The silver-haired woman bent over and walking with effort was Princess Medeia.

“Ah, could you go easy? Just a little?”

“Are you sure you’re not exaggerating?”

“Exaggerating?! That’s rich coming from you! Who do you think got me into this mess?!”

“…I’m sorry.”

The blonde man carried on her back, his face scrunched with irritation, was Hardin Daphne.

Though he was covered in blood, his expression was still filled with fiery intensity.

‘What the hell? What happened?’

‘Why is Her Highness… carrying that guy?’

‘She even apologized?’

Just as everyone stared wide-eyed—

“Your Highness!”

“Hardin hyungnim!”

Lieutenant Benjamin and Malion.

The two of them rushed over as fast as they could.