CHAPTER 18……………….
018. The Time of the Sword
Vice-Captain of the Combat Unit, Gardener.
I had already guessed he was strong.
He gave off the same aura as knights of remarkable skill.
The look in his eyes, the tone of his voice, the movement of his hands and feet… none of that could be faked.
The only regret was that he, too, bore an engraving.
Wooong.
A silvery-grey mana shimmered faintly along his blade.
Not only Gardener, but every member of the Combat Unit that had rushed forward carried the same mark.
All of them had engravings carved onto their bodies, and they wrapped their blades with that mana.
But that only meant they could simply imbue their swords, enhancing their natural traits. Nothing more.
“Shame.”
Clicking my tongue, I watched Gardener and the others dive into the swarm of snow worms.
“With that level of skill, he could have become a knight…”
Still, it bought us time.
“Everyone, recharge your mana!”
“They’re holding the line for us! Hurry!”
“Those with any energy left, to the gate! Fire!”
The Magic Unit gasped for breath as they hurled spell after spell.
The battle had already dragged on for hours.
No one in the Magic Unit could even remember how many times they had charged their mana and fired.
Carving spells into an engraving, recharging mana—it all consumed stamina.
Even if they weren’t clashing in melee, the mages, too, were nearing their limits.
I myself had fired without ever filling even a single circle completely.
All while Gardener and the Combat Unit bought us time.
Wooong.
I filled my mana, preparing for the end.
The battlefield was drowning in snow, blood, and death.
Gardener never ceased swinging his blade.
His engravings were unstable—
but he was the fortress’s only Triple Chain.
Of the three spells inscribed, not one was usable, but his sheer mana capacity outstripped everyone else.
Wooong.
The silvery-grey mana honed his blade sharper still.
Schraaak—!
The sword cut down snow worms with frightening ease.
“Backs together! Don’t stop moving!”
Whenever he could draw breath, Gardener shouted at his men.
“If the line falters, we’re done for!”
“Understood!”
“Do we really need to shout back?!”
Some responded with firm voices, others even with laughter.
They still had spirit left.
Gardener glanced up at the watchtower, where Esric stood.
All thanks to him.
Last year, 118 rookies had joined.
Not one survived the winter.
That was the norm—each winter claimed about that many lives.
But now?
Thanks to Esric’s magic, and the Magic Unit’s transformed firepower, the battle was far easier.
Their spells rained down even now, letting the soldiers fight with confidence.
As long as they weren’t surrounded, they could hold.
The veterans who still fought here had survived Ice Rock for years, some over a decade.
Given enough room to maneuver, worms were nothing but bugs.
Survival itself was proof of strength.
“Stay sharp!”
Gardener drew a deep breath and dashed forward again.
He raised his blade high.
The mana in his engraving burst forth in a single explosive wave.
The energy running along his sword stretched longer and sharper than steel.
Schraaak, schraaaak! The silver-grey arc cut through the swarm, leaving streaks of light.
Kreeeeiik!
Worms split apart, scattering in pieces.
He pushed his blade faster, stopped his breath, tightened every muscle, squeezing out even the last traces of mana.
Each swing crackled with silvery flashes like lightning.
The battlefield turned silver-grey, as dozens of worms were carved apart and flung into the air.
“Haaah.”
He stopped his blade to catch his breath, while the others guarded his sides.
Blades shone with colored flashes, and worms were cut down mercilessly.
“Already resting, Captain?”
“You’re still good to go, right?”
“Catch your breath before talking!”
Gardener looked at the men at his side and chuckled.
This was the first time.
Every winter, when he stood here, the ground around him was always piled with comrades’ corpses.
Blood soaked the snow red, squelching under every step.
But this winter felt almost… pleasant.
How could he not laugh?
“Raise shields again!”
At his shout, those in reserve stepped forward with square shields.
Thud, thud, thud. They planted them firmly into the ground, forming a shield wall.
Gardener and the veterans stepped back behind the formation, standing shoulder to shoulder with the spearmen.
With a scrape, he raised his blade once more.
Kreeeee—eeek!
Through the wall of flames, endless snow worms pressed forward.
“Hold the line!”
“Raise shields!”
“Stand firm! Endure!”
The flood surged once more.
Disgust turned to hatred.
“This is endless…”
I clicked my tongue.
Each time the formation broke, Gardener and the veterans would rush out, hold the breach, then rebuild the wall.
Five times? No, six?
After sundown, I’d lost count.
“Light the fires!”
“Keep visibility clear!”
“Bring the oil jars, hurry!”
Our stamina had reached its limit.
The breaches came faster.
The Magic Unit’s volleys came slower.
Darkness fell, obscuring how many were left.
All we could do was keep fighting.
“Backs together! Don’t scatter!”
“Just die already, damn it!”
“Stop charging out on your own!”
Even Gardener and his veterans, who’d seemed so steady, slowed.
Their once-keen blades were now caked with flesh and blood, losing their edge.
Without mana, they were little more than clubs.
Even minimal repairs had reached their limits.
“Shield wall! Reform!”
“We’re not retreating here!”
“Uaaaagh!”
Cries of rage rang out.
Or maybe they were screams.
…Is this it?
I had fully charged one circle.
The second was barely half.
I’d fired too often whenever things seemed dire.
I had wanted to save it for the very end…
“Planning to kill them all? That won’t do. To defeat calamity, we need every hand alive.”
Siruela’s words were right.
We couldn’t afford to lose anyone.
If the line broke once, who knew how many would die?
Maybe it was better to unleash it now…
“H-huh?”
“They’re retreating!”
“Don’t get swept away! Steady!”
Confused voices rose.
Then a shout:
“They’re starting to swarm!”
The ground churned as if alive.
The snow bubbled outward—
No. Not snow.
Bugs.
Tiny insects crawled out from between the snow.
The shattered remains of snow worms crumbled, spilling them out.
The bugs flowed like liquid, gathering beyond the wall.
The snow boiled like a cauldron.
Each tiny insect was the true snow worm.
They infested corpses, devouring them to grow, multiply, and seize control.
That was the snow worms we had been fighting.
When so many died in one place, the remnants gathered together.
They infested each other, birthing a single organism anew.
A swarm.
The snow worm born from this was no longer the same creature.
Grooo—grrrrk.
It took the shape of a single monstrous insect.
“What the hell…”
Seeing the swarm congeal beyond the wall, I let out a hollow laugh.
“Looks like a dragon.”
Its sheer size could swallow even the crescent moon above.
The wall might as well not exist.
Its massive head, if lowered, could topple it easily.
Skreeeee—eeeaagh!
The swollen head split open, revealing layers of sawlike teeth.
A single graze would shred us, and to be swallowed meant annihilation.
“So saving my mana really was the right call.”
I raised my spellbook.
A circle and a half’s worth of mana.
Not enough alone—but with the traps laid beforehand, maybe just enough.
I drew in a long breath, summoning the incantation.
“Open the way.”
“…?!”
Siruela moved.
Until now, he hadn’t budged from his place.
The men, dumbstruck by the monstrous worm, parted in panic as he passed.
Calm, steady steps carried him outside the fortress.
As he passed beneath the watchtower, his green eyes briefly met mine.
Watch, they seemed to say.
…What should I do?
Should I be the one to finish this, to prove my strength and carve my existence into their memory?
My gaze drifted, and I caught sight of Ronan among the soldiers.
So…
“The last bite is always the sweetest…”
I shut my book.
“This time, I’ll let him have it.”
Though he couldn’t hear, Siruela seemed to answer.
Shrrrk.
He drew his sword.
From each step, faint green light sparkled.
Elf mana, absorbed from the earth.
The glow gathered brighter, flowing into his blade.
Like fireflies, the soft green mana clung to the sword.
The sharp silver blade began to glow green.
Mana covered not just the blade, but the entire weapon.
Then his arm.
His whole body.
Siruela’s figure shone with light.
And then—
Like a flame snuffed out, the glow vanished.
All of it condensed into the single blade in his hand, flashing brilliantly.
The green mana flowing along the sword was no mere energy.
It was not shaped by rules or spells, but by sheer willpower.
The true mark of a knight.
Aura.
The swarm seemed to sense the threat.
Grrrrr—Kyaaaagh!
The monstrous worm roared, twisting its body.
Its gaping maw opened wide, swallowing the night air as it lunged.
A writhing tongue stretched out, rows of sawlike fangs glinting within the wet darkness.
But Siruela did not move.
He simply watched it fall upon him.
Only when the jaws were about to crush the ground—
Did he grip his blade tight—
And swing upward.
Kwaaaang—!
The massive jaws seemed to engulf him whole.
Or so it appeared.
In that instant, a green flash erupted skyward.
Light streamed up the worm’s body as it fell upon the fortress.
Shraaaak—!
Only then came the sound.
Neither loud nor soft.
But sharp.
The massive form split apart.
Through the cleaving body, Siruela appeared.
Without pause, he brought his blade down again.
It was neither night, nor dawn.
It was the Time of the Sword.
