Chapter 46: Voices from Normor

Chapter 46: Voices from Normor

The mayor gave a short reprieve to the hunters who had been attacking the formation. Fjorn immediately fell into a deep meditation. Emilia also meditated briefly, as her mana was stable.

Once finished, she started examining the different lines and glyphs. At one point, however, the mayor asked her to draw a few talismans of strength. Her success rate was highest with those.

While the hunters rested, the three scouts patrolling in the distance returned. Without taking a break, they immediately reported to the mayor. A brief call on the war horn followed, and everyone began to retreat into the fortification.

While Emilia was still trying to figure out what was happening, a large group of Echidrids slowly emerged from the nearby woods.

Emilia immediately recalled their history, recorded in the sacred books. They told the tale of Normor—an eternal ice field, home to ancient races and spirits created at the very genesis of the world by the primordial titans. These forces, however, rarely left Normor.

The most common inhabitants there were the Echidrids themselves—descendants of Echidna. They were hybrids of snakes and ice giants, standing about three meters tall, their bodies covered in thick white fur. Beneath the fur was a part of their serpentine skin, which Echidna had altered to insulate them from the perpetual cold. Thanks to the ice giants' strength and their ability to withstand the frigid temperatures, they quickly became one of the dominant races in Normor.

Echidna had tried to involve them in the battles on Gaia's side, but the god Helios had offered them a drop of blood from the heart of Kronos, the leader of the titans.

Thus, they betrayed Echidna and instead maintained neutrality during the war. In the end, however, they were forced to choose a side, as both camps began to attack them. They chose the side of Prometheus and, thanks to the blood of Kronos, managed to avoid Gaia's curses.

As they approached the fortification, a small group separated and advanced, waving a white flag for negotiations. The Echidrids reached almost the fort’s gate, and one individual with sky-blue eyes stepped forward and addressed the gathered people inside in a loud voice.

"My name is too complicated for your primitive human tongue, but you may call me Douglas." As he spoke, Douglas elongated the 's' sounds with his forked serpentine tongue. His eyes sharply contrasted with the cold yellow eyes of the other Echidrids—a sure sign of the purity of his bloodline. "We are here to destroy these ruins and free the dark forest from yet another of Gaia's weapons."

"How interesting, we have the same goal," the mayor's son shouted back.
"Excellent, then you can leave in peace. We will finish what you started."

"Aren't you too far from Normor to be concerned with events in the dark forest?" Fjorn asked, drawing a glyph to reinforce the wall.

"We, too, have our commercial interests in this part of the world. But more importantly, our group is stronger than your... sss... hastily organized militia. Ssss."

"Hah, whether you are stronger remains to be seen. We are here, behind the walls of the fortification, and you are out in the open. Furthermore, we are already familiar with the defensive formations of the ruins. So, we are in a more advantageous position!"

"Sss... perhaps you are well-hidden behind these quickly erected wooden... sss... defenses... sss. But we can easily set them ablaze... ssss."

"You can try. There was a group of minotaurs here, much larger than yours, and now their dust is fertilizing the nearby trees," the mayor's son chimed in.

"Maybe... maybe... ssss," Douglas paused for a few moments, then pulled out a small chest. He opened it and lifted it so everyone could see inside.

"These are the Ice Crystals of Final Hope. If an ice storm persists for three days, a few of these crystals can sometimes be found at its center. For us—the ice races—they simply contain a great quantity of mana. But for you, the warm-blooded races, they offer a chance to unlock one's mana! Here are three such crystals. Leave, and they are yours!"

Emilia involuntarily gasped at the sight of the crystals. This was the first time she had ever heard of such miraculous treasures. "Uncle Fjorn, perhaps... perhaps... how would these crystals be distributed if we were to retreat?" Emilia was powerfully drawn by the thought of such a treasure. What if she could unlock the mana of her mother? Her brother? Her father? And how much money would the nobles be willing to pay for such a thing?

"Don't be so quick to rejoice. These crystals are not that simple. They are called the crystals of 'final' hope for a reason. The mana within them is extremely unstable—like an ice storm. If the user fails to unlock their mana, there is a high chance of death. Not to mention, the success rate is under ten percent."

"A high chance of death?!" Emilia's interest immediately turned to disappointment. “Then who would take them?”

"Ha-ha-ha... there are many desperate people in this world. Besides, the price of a human life is sometimes quite cheap. One can always buy a slave child and have such a crystal injected directly into their heart. This raises the chance of unlocking mana by a few percent, but failure means certain death!"

Emilia put a hand to her head. "A cruel world," she recalled the goddess's words.

The mayor began negotiating with the Echidrid leader. He wanted to test what price they were willing to pay, as well as secure more time.

However, as the sun began to dip in the sky and the Echidrids grew impatient, a multitude of evil creatures began to pour out of the dark forest. At the forefront were the satyrs who had survived the battle with the village, followed by numerous forest hobgoblins. There were small groups of other wicked races, and countless tiny goblins trailed behind them all.

Soon, the goblins were cruelly forced to the very front to attack both groups.

The Echidrids, who had clearly been preparing for something, hurried closer to the fortification, and Douglas quickly spoke with the mayor. A temporary agreement was almost instantly reached. The Echidrids formed a triple battle line with their backs to the wooden walls of the fort, while the archers and crossbowmen took their positions above.

The small number of traps laid in the previous days were activated one by one, but they were wasted on the bodies of the harmless goblins. They were an extremely fearful race, and as they got close enough to the Echidrids, they suddenly scattered in all directions. Whatever evil magic had been used to compel them to attack, their fear managed to overcome it. They had, however, done their job: they had given the attacking evil creatures time to approach undisturbed.

At that moment, the first volley of arrows flew from the fort's walls. They soared high into the sky and then began to descend slowly, pulled by gravity. But suddenly, a strange blue-and-orange light activated and stopped most of the arrows. Clearly, the evil races had raised a magical defense.

"Shamans... ssss!" Douglas roared with hatred, his eyes beginning to glow. He and three other Echidrids started a slow chant filled with strange, soft tones. Soon, the tempo increased, and the sounds began to rage and swirl. "Like a blizzard's heart," Emilia thought.

The sky dimmed slightly, and the air began to churn. The temperature dropped sharply. The mana in front of the attacking evil races became extremely unstable, and Douglas shouted, "Archers, fire! Their shields are shattered!"

The hunters had only been waiting for this—they unleashed a genuine hail of arrows and crossbow bolts. Fjorn also sent several fireballs with the help of a small, crude formation. "Emilia, give me your mana." Emilia instantly moved closer and began channeling energy into the formation. More fireballs erupted, but the formation’s two eyes, crafted from Level 2 monster cores, endured for only five minutes before shattering.

Fjorn cursed and redirected Emilia's mana to the defensive formation, frantically drawing new lines onto the wood.

In addition to the multitude of casualties, these volleys of arrows and fire forced the attacking forces to break their formation. They did not attack as a unified line; instead, each creature ran at a different speed. Some charged with all their might to reach the battle quickly, hoping to deny the archers time for another shot.

Others ran more slowly to preserve their lives, hidden behind their larger comrades.

Still others simply could not keep up with the front line and lagged behind.

A similar phenomenon had occurred countless times in battles on Earth. One of the main reasons well-trained troops built vast empires was precisely because many battles started this way. If these had been ancient veterans, when they neared the clash line, they would have paused for a moment to catch their breath and wait for the rest.

But fortunately, that did not happen. Instead, the disciplined ranks of the Echidrids met the fragmented attack with a wall of steel, staining their weapons with the blood of their fallen opponents.

The song of steel echoed through the quiet forest. The ancient trees rustled softly with their leaves, and the birds, disturbed by the battle, froze in their nests. The fighting was long and bloody. The enemies outnumbered the combined defenders three to one.

Soon, the Echidrids were forced to retreat before the relentless push of the evil races, who were maddened by curses. The humans immediately opened the gate and let the Echidrids inside. After that, the two races were in a slightly more advantageous position, protected by the wooden walls.

The walls had special openings through which the archers and crossbowmen continuously fired... but soon, one of the walls fell under the merciless pressure of the enraged evil races. For a second time, the Echidrids surged forward and halted the momentum of the attacking monsters.

This time, however, their enemies were exhausted, and the Echidrids' flanks were protected within the fortification. The archers relentlessly supported them with focused fire, and the strongest of the evil races had already lost their lives in the first assaults. Now, only the more numerous, but far weaker and disorganized groups remained.

The fields became littered with blood. The green color of the trampled grasses was often lost in a sea of red blood, body parts, and entrails. Countless bodies covered the clearing in front of the walls, and within the fortification itself, the fighting was ruthless and exceptionally fierce. The defenders had nowhere left to retreat, arrows were running low, and the evil creatures had fallen into a deep battle trance. The minutes crawled by slowly, like a herd of celestial tortoises in the early afternoon.

Half an hour later, unable to breach the fort's defense, the morale of the surviving evil races collapsed, and they began to withdraw. First, one by one, and finally, entire groups threw down their weapons and started fleeing toward the nearby forest.

The archers struck them down with well-aimed shots into their unprotected backs, and half the Echidrids abandoned the battle formation to chase their fleeing enemies, tearing apart their bodies with powerful swings of their huge, heavy swords.