Chapter 295

The Frost Snake Tribe, Olga’s home, was a small tribe of just a few hundred people.

Located in the northwest, the Frost Snake Tribe's climate was dry and cool. Growing up in the biting winds, Olga's skin became thick like a wild animal's, and his arms were longer than most, making him adept with a spear.

‘I’ve practically lived my life like an evil spirit.’

While all western tribes valued survival above all, the Frost Snake Tribe engaged in particularly fierce survival competition. During the time when small tribes in the northwest were competing for resources, the monstrous entity known as the Alliance appeared.

‘We had no choice but to submit for the survival of the tribe.’

The scale of the Alliance was larger than any tribe Olga had seen. Thousands of warriors roaming the wastelands as one was truly a magnificent spectacle.

‘Unification of the tribes.’

The Alliance accomplished something that no one had even thought of. They subjugated all the tribes they met on their journey to the westernmost end on foot.

After such achievements in conquest, one would think satisfaction would follow. But the conquests were just the beginning. The true goal was to fight and win against the humans beyond the mountains.

‘Our worldview has expanded. Our neighbors were no longer the tribes around us. The concept of ‘us’ changed to encompass the entire tribal society, and ‘neighbor’ came to refer to civilized people.’

Even tribes once considered enemies called each other brothers, standing shoulder to shoulder in battle. It was a great revolution. Long-standing traditions and values crumbled in the blink of an eye, and new orders infiltrated the Alliance daily.

A lot of things changed. Some adapted to the changes led by Urich, while others, like Olga, resisted.

Olga envied Urich and Samikan for their achievements. How many who are born a man wouldn’t want to spread their name across the world?

“Olga, Kurugak is dead,” a warrior acting as an adjutant said.

The warrior named Kurugak was lying face down in the sewage, already a lifeless body. He had walked with his brothers until the end, but his soul had left his body.

The warriors collected Kurugak's weapons. If they survived this battle, they planned to give him a proper funeral.

“We're all going to die,” a warrior at the back muttered. Initially, everyone pretended not to hear and continued walking in silence.

“You all heard what Urich said. The protection of the heavens is no longer ours. Urich rejected it himself.”

“Shut up.”

“You all feel it too. We're going to die here for no reason. We won't even achieve victory.”

“I said shut up!”

The voices grew louder. Hearing the commotion, Olga glanced back.

Schluck.

Olga's spear pierced the throat of the warrior stirring up ominous feelings.

“If you... are a co...ward..., die.”

Olga was ruthless. In terms of cruelty, Olga was among the top within the Alliance.

“I don’t care if... your opinion is different... from mine..., but I will... not tolerate cowards.”

The Frost Snake Tribe lived in one of the harshest environments in the west, so harsh that their population was on a decline rather than prospering. To Olga, it was only natural for those who were not useful to die. His approach was strictly based on survival.

‘The weak die and the strong survive.’

Urich was strong. He was stronger than anyone, so even when he brought about change, the warriors endured. No one had the right to oppose the change unless they were stronger than him.

“We’re almost there,” the Serpentine guide said. An interpreter who spoke Hamelian conveyed the message to Olga.

“Good.”

Soon, a dead-end appeared with a ladder leading up to the surface.

Creak.

The warriors climbed the ladder one by one, cautiously surveying the surroundings. There was no sign of traffic as it was still the dead of night.

Rustle.

The warriors were either unarmored or in leather armor. They moved carefully, holding their weapons to avoid making any noise.

“Keep going. Guide us until we get there.”

Olga nudged the guide forward, who seemed uneasy.

‘These men are our allies. They have come to change the world...’

The guide tried to shake off the unease. The alleyways, which existed before Hamel grew into an empire, were incredibly complex and disorganized due to a lack of planned layouts.

“H-huh?”

A vagrant squatting in the alleyway opened his mouth wide upon seeing the warriors.

“Kill him.”

Olga ran his thumb across his throat. A warrior covered the vagrant’s mouth and stabbed a blade into his heart. Olga only left blood in his wake as they killed every vagrant they encountered, even cutting the throats of those sleeping.

“T-there it is.”

The frightened guide pointed to a large warehouse.

“They don’t have as many guards as I expected.”

Olga tilted his head in confusion. Contrary to the description, the security didn’t seem heavy at all.

‘If this is a warehouse storing something like flame oil, shouldn’t there be more guards than this?’

The guards they could see were no more than ten. If they struck quickly, they could deal with them before reinforcements arrived.

“Hanu, you take three... warriors and cover... the rear.”

Olga gestured as he gave the order. The warriors took their positions according to his command.

“

Huuup

.”

Olga took a deep breath. He held a spear in one hand and lightly bounced in place.

“

Hup!

”

Olga stepped forward and hurled the spear forcefully.

Thwack!

Olga's spear struck a guard in the back. The warriors then silently moved in, taking down the guards one by one. In an instant, seven guards were down on the ground.

‘What incredible skill.’

The guide couldn’t pick his jaw off the floor from the astonishment. He had never seen people fight so well. The warriors ended the lives of their enemies mercilessly, yet silently.

“Are you sure this is the place?” Olga asked the guide again. The guide nodded after the words were translated.

“There are fewer guards than expected, but this is definitely the place,” the guide replied uneasily. The warriors hid the bodies in the shadows and grabbed torches.

Creak.

Olga opened the door to the warehouse first and stepped inside. A pungent, volatile smell pricked his nose.

‘This is the smell of flame oil.’

It was the same deathly smell he encountered in the sewers.

“Be careful with the torches. One wrong move, and we all die.”

The warriors gripped their torches tightly and illuminated the inside of the warehouse.

“Olga, there’s nothing here.”

A warrior who had gone to the farthest end spoke.

“The warehouse is empty.”

Olga's eyes wavered. He knew his fate.

‘I was destined to perish with the fire.’

But his fate was not here. The empty warehouse was hollow, leaving only the smell behind.

The empire had exhausted most of the flame oil in a single night to confront Urich and the warriors, using an amount equivalent to half a year's budget of the Porcana Kingdom. The only remaining flame oil was deployed on the city walls.

That was how much the empire and the emperor desperately wanted to drive Urich out of the sewers. With no flame oil to guard, there was no need for many men around the warehouse.

“Olga.”

The warriors waited for Olga's instructions, but Olga, for once, was also at a loss. Hamel was an unfamiliar land that he had almost no information about.

‘We have to attract attention somehow.’

Hamel had many stone buildings, and water was easily accessible everywhere, making arson ineffective. Even if that weren’t the case, Olga and the warriors didn't know effective arson methods, and simply setting a fire wouldn't spread it to the buildings.

‘There’s no flame oil...’

Olga gripped the cracks in the stone wall and climbed onto the warehouse roof in a swift, agile movement like that of a jaguar.

‘How can we shake up the Imperial Army? I need to create an opportunity for Urich to attack the gate.’

Olga gazed at the imperial palace standing tall at the edge of the city.

“

Hooo.

”

Olga exhaled and jumped down from the roof. He looked at the warriors and then tapped the guide’s shoulder with his spear shaft.

“Is there a way... to get over... there?”

The warriors widened their eyes as they heard Olga’s words and saw him pointing at the distant palace. It was obvious what he was thinking.

“T-the imperial palace?”

Olga closed his eyes and then opened them.

“We’re going to go assassinate... the ‘emperor.’ Even if we fail, all the guards... will come after... us. It might even be better... than the original plan...”

“The heavens are no longer on our side, so I guess we have no choice,” a warrior said as if he had let go of all expectations.

The other warriors chuckled bitterly. Even if Olga’s plan succeeded, there was no chance that any of them would make it out alive from breaking into the imperial palace.

“If we had known this was going to happen, I would have followed Urich.”

“Right? I thought this would be easier and safer, but it’s actually the complete opposite.”

The warriors exchanged glances and jokes. Even warriors who had survived countless arrows and blades knew that it would be hard to avoid death this time.

“...I will not accept ob...jections. Die... with me.”

Olga declared, raising his spear blade, and the warriors gathered their weapons and moved.

As the torches died out, the warriors blended into the dark alleys.

* * *

The Imperial Army was intoxicated by the small victory they got from burning down all the invading barbarians.

The Imperial Army's high command propagated widely that Urich was dead to boost morale, and the lower-ranking soldiers believed it. It wasn’t entirely a lie, as the possibility of Urich's death was high.

“The maid who serves Sir Garter is my lover, and she said the high command believes the war will end soon. They say that the demon is dead, so the enemy won't fight anymore.”

“Sir Garter is that lecherous guy, right? You should be careful.”

“Hey, who cares about that right now? The important thing is that the war is ending!”

The palace guards chatted. They were mostly formed of low-quality recruits as many seasoned soldiers had died in the battle against the barbarians.

“When this war ends, I’m leaving the army.”

“Where would you even go? Isn’t this the only thing you’re decent at?”

“I’m leaving to make use of that. The golden age of mercenaries is coming. Gerald and Bucket have already agreed to form a mercenary squad with me. Since we’ll be a mercenary squad with former imperial soldiers, we’ll be able to make some good money! When a war starts, mercenary prices easily skyrocket three to four times.”

The other soldier, enticed by the words, flinched. There were already rumors that mercenaries in the barbarian army were earning enormous wages. With increasing military movements between kingdoms and the scent of war in the air, mercenaries' prices were rising daily.

“Is that true? T-then count me in.”

“Do you have any savings? If you want to join us, you need to buy into the squad. We have to build our force with our own money first.”

Their guard duty had become a secondary concern.

Wartimes allowed mercenaries to easily rise to prominence, and with the empire's power waning, more soldiers entertained such thoughts. If successful, one could even become a noble with land.

“Mark my words. Just three years as a mercenary will set you up for life.”

The soldier who found a new comrade smiled broadly.

The two guard soldiers pictured their futures after the war, and it was a dashing one. Everyone liked to dream of wealth and glory.

Rustle, rustle.

The wind felt unsettlingly unstable.

“So, do you have a plan? If I’m going to invest, I need to hear what you have planned. And how many could we even gather with just our money?”

“Apparently Bucket is actually a noble's illegitimate son. He said the Lord of Hoscaro is his brother, so we’ll get investment from there. If we gather about ten former Imperial soldiers, they’ll invest in a heartbeat.”

“Really?”

“You heard that the Giskin and Caselmaroni Kingdoms are at war, right? Soon a full-scale war will start. Since the Giskin Kingdom falls under the pro-imperial faction, they’ll accept a mercenary squad of former imperial soldiers with open arms. We’ll start from there.”

Heads started to nod. The excited soldiers began making plans for the future, and their stories progressed until they imagined receiving titles as war heroes.

“You’re completely right. Even if you serve in the Imperial Army for life, you’ll only earn a pittance in the end... My father always said to have big dreams like a real man. W-wait, w-what’s that?!”

Everyone’s got their own plans.

Thunk.

But most cannot put them into action for various reasons.

Blood splattered. The soldier with aspirations of forming a mercenary squad staggered. He looked incredulously at the spear tip that had pierced his neck.

The remaining soldier instinctively raised his spear forward. He saw the barbarians emerging from the darkness, approaching steadily.

“

A-ahhh...

”

The soldier opened his mouth in fear. He couldn’t understand why the barbarians were here.

Olga and the warriors cut through the darkness and approached the palace’s side gate. Their eyes gleamed fiercely in the torchlight.

“V-very well, then. I’ll b-be on my w-way!”

The Serpentine guide tried to flee but was caught by the Olga who slit his throat with a dagger.

Slash.

Olga smeared the blood from the guide’s neck all over his body. The guide collapsed without even getting to say his final words.

“Olga, didn’t you say this was an assassination? Why are you making so much noise already?

Hup!

Die, you bastard!”

A warrior grumbled as he threw his axe. As the axe embedded itself in the guard’s face, the two soldiers, who had shared a dream for a brief moment, lay dead side by side.

“If we kill them all, that’s an assas...sination, is it not?”

Olga said, pulling the spear from the dead soldier’s head with a powerful yank. He smiled lightly, shaking his head.

Deng, deng, deng.

The sound of the bell shattered the palace’s tranquility.