Toward the Snowfields
For the demons, a Hero is like deadly poison.
The dimensional interference they wield exists solely to repel invaders.
A force that is the natural counter to demons—the primary invaders.
That is why demons fear Heroes, and why humanity places Heroes at the forefront against the Demon King.
Which also meant the opposite: dimensional interference held little power against beings of the same dimension.
That did not mean a Hero's talents vanished.
Aside from interference, they possessed superior aptitude and far faster growth than ordinary humans.
However, compared to fighting demons, one of their greatest advantages as Heroes was undeniably gone.
That was why Pablo Barkat could not quickly finish Austin Croin, and why he was unable to do anything when the kingdom's army was being mercilessly pushed back.
More precisely, he did suppress Austin the entire time, but could not end it easily.
And during that time, his allies were completely routed.
"We must stop them. We must retake the mine and reclaim what belongs to the Alliance."
Pablo Barkat raised his voice toward the nobles of the ten nations.
"I witnessed the mana stone vein with my own eyes. That is undeniable fact. And blinded by greed for that vein, they ambushed us! This is an issue tied directly to the dignity of the Alliance!"
"What does Your Highness wish us to do?"
"Of course we must take it back—even by force. How can we overlook them invading Alliance territory and siphoning off our resources?"
"Correct!"
Some envoys nodded in agreement.
But others made uneasy faces.
Naturally so.
Though eleven nations had gathered under the name of the Southern Alliance, their purpose was not to found some glorious new nation.
It was survival.
A desperate attempt to block the Empire's advance and keep living—that was the origin.
Most member states desired stability over war.
Especially when victory in such a war could never be guaranteed.
Hesitation was natural.
"I know what you fear. But letting this go is absolutely wrong."
And it was equally natural that Pablo insisted on war—despite knowing what they feared.
Partly because of the humiliation and insults they suffered from the Empire, but it was not mere emotion.
"If that mana stone vein falls into their hands—if they develop the mine and the extracted mana stones go to them…"
"Those mana stones will make the Empire even stronger."
"They will fatten themselves with Alliance resources they stole from Alliance land. And that full belly will become the blade pointed right back at us."
Such was the nature of mana stones.
The essential ore for every magic-related industry.
Natural mana stones surpassed artificial ones in purity, quality—everything.
A single large mana stone mine could influence an entire nation.
Strengthen it.
"Will you simply allow that? The Empire is greedy, and they are always waiting for a chance to tear us apart. And you wish to choose future ruin just because today's war frightens you?"
"Furthermore!"
"Alliance citizens were cut down by the Empire's blades. Their ambush shed pointless blood! Who will answer for their deaths?"
"If we do not avenge them, who will fight for the Alliance?"
Pablo's voice rang with fury.
"In any case, the Philerium Mountain Range—a natural fortress—lies between the Empire and us. They cannot bring a large army to the mine."
Countless monsters would greet them, and more soldiers would die to monsters than to enemies before the two sides even met.
The Empire would never make such a foolish choice.
"We only need to retake the mine and hold it. The Empire cannot deploy a large force either."
And it was not merely the problem of Philerium.
The Southern Alliance had only one enemy—the Empire.
But the Empire had countless enemies.
"Most importantly, the Empire cannot ignore the unrest breaking out in the North. If we miss this moment, we may never again have the chance to reclaim the vein!"
"Mm…"
The nobles swallowed groans.
Their minds understood the prince's reasoning.
But war with the Empire was not something one could decide lightly.
They knew they could not back down—yet the probability of defeat outweighed victory.
One noble raised his hand.
"And if the operation fails, and the Empire launches a full-scale war, what then?"
"Of course…"
Pablo declared firmly:
"We cannot back down. If we lose the mana stone mine, the Alliance is finished. But if we seize it, we may overturn the humiliating history of suffering under the Empire. No matter the cost, we must claim it."
"Well said!"
"How long must we grovel before the Empire!"
"If it is difficult to decide, let us follow the Alliance's established method."
"…Very well."
"Three days from now, at the Banquet of Kings, we will decide by our traditional means."
The Banquet of Kings was a gathering where the eleven rulers of the Alliance met to debate and determine the Alliance's future direction.
And the final decision was made by majority vote.
Three days later, by a vote of ten to one, an operation to reclaim the mine was approved.
***
『Demon King! Please help us!』
A single distress message completely shattered Berze's pleasant plan to watch the conflict between the South and the Empire unfold.
『We were defeated. Gillian Aint lost his right arm, the Barbarians suffered catastrophic damage, and the White Eagle and our forces were scattered across the snowfields—none of our lives are certain!』
…What the hell is this now?
***
Rumors travel fast.
Without even stopping by the tower, Berze abandoned Logar and the elves somewhere near the outskirts of the Southern Alliance and headed north with Ernan.
After passing dozens of teleportation circles, and once the blazing sun gave way to cold winds, rumors of the snowfields began reaching his ears one by one.
"They say another barbarian tribe vanished today."
"That makes five now, doesn't it?"
"What about the White Eagle? Didn't even the Red Hawk join the fight?"
"No contact. The Empire's investigation team found traces of a fierce battle, but no survivors. The only good news is that Hillen Cargill and Gillian Aint's bodies weren't among the dead…"
"Why are the Demon Kings suddenly acting like this? They'd have to be insane…"
"One thing's certain—something is happening."
"And have you heard the rumor? That Gillian Aint did something to the Tower of Bitter Cold…"
Everywhere he went, only rumors of the snowfields filled the air.
From them, Berze extracted the parts most commonly repeated.
Monsters in the snowfields had abruptly begun rampaging.
Northern tribes were in danger from the monster onslaught.
The White Eagle and Red Hawk joined forces to protect them.
And then vanished.
"There are also suspicions that a Demon King intervened."
Ernan whispered softly.
"I'm hearing that too."
It was a noisy tavern—reports of rumors drifting in all directions.
"What will you do?"
"We need to verify exactly what happened first."
Could this even be real?
No matter how he thought about it, he couldn't understand.
Of course, Reina Sordein was strong.
But Hillen Cargill and Gillian Aint were stars.
Hillen in particular had been growing day by day, hunting Demon Kings.
If Hillen Cargill's life had truly been in danger, the king would not have sent him to the snowfields just to 'fix his attitude.'
'Did Jayson intervene?'
Or was Reina far stronger than he'd thought?
He didn't know.
Truthfully, he didn't know much about Demon Kings at all.
Before regression, he had almost no dealings with them.
After regression, he had only just begun learning.
'Reina Sordein is strong.'
She was a Demon King who had survived for decades after graduating from the Demon King Academy.
It would be stranger if she were weak.
But unless they were foolish enough to climb the summit of the tower, Hillen and the others had no reason to clash with Reina Sordein.
And the Hillen he knew was obsessed with honor, but not such a complete idiot.
Which made it all the more puzzling.
Why had all this happened?
Tap, tap—
Ernan tapped Berze's shoulder.
"Lord Pale."
"What is it?"
"The merchants who just arrived said the Imperial Army is preparing to advance into the Snowfields."
"...!"
"They're still talking."
Berze tilted his ear toward the direction Ernan pointed. Two merchants had set down huge bundles on either side of them.
"…Th–the… north…"
The voices that had been drowned out by the noise slowly became clearer.
"…Is it true the Northern Army is really heading into the Snowfields?"
"So they say."
"Really? They've been ignoring everything until now."
"There's a limit to that. Five tribes have already disappeared, haven't they?"
"They're just northern barbarians anyway."
"Barbarians or not, they're still subjects of the Empire. And a necessary evil."
"Well, they're revolting scum, but having them around reduces the Empire's casualties."
The northern Barbarians lived under the Empire's domain but rejected Imperial rule.
They lived in the Snowfields, preserving their freedom and their own way of life—yet they also served as the first defensive line stopping monsters from crossing into Imperial territory.
They only wished to survive, but that inadvertently benefitted the Empire.
Thus the Empire left the disobedient barbarians alone, merely ensuring they never unified under one banner.
"So who's leading the expedition?"
"They say the Margrave of Chernian is commanding personally."
"Good heavens."
Hearing an unfamiliar name, Berze asked:
"The Margrave of Chernian?"
"He's the border lord who protects the Empire's North from the monsters crossing the Snowfields. Among the fifty knights under him, his skill ranks within the top ten in the Empire. And his personal guard, the White Frost Knights, are called the Blizzard of the Snowfields."
"I see."
Lately, Berze found that having Ernan around was surprisingly convenient.
Like carrying a walking library—especially regarding nobility.
Understandable, since royalty were well-versed in noble affairs.
"If someone like that is going, maybe I don't need to get involved. It might only complicate things."
Nothing good would come from getting tangled with Imperial regulars.
"Well… normally I would agree."
"But this time is different?"
"Lord Hillen isn't a weak man."
"Damn it… how did I end up cleaning up after that Hero brat…?"
For someone who devoured two Demon Kings, to be this weak—it was infuriating.
He was pissed, but Hillen absolutely could not be allowed to die.
"But how could those two suffer such a crushing defeat? I really don't understand. What could have happened?"
When a Hero and a Demon King clashed, the Demon King was usually stronger.
The Heroes praised as "stars" were no exception.
But most Demon Kings followed the usual formula, and Reina was not a Demon King who left the top of the tower.
So why had they lost?
'Of course, they do eventually enter the tower.'
Before regression, the war between the White Eagle and Reina Sordein was relatively simple in Berze's memory.
They gathered northern tribes and climbed the tower.
They repeatedly hunted the monsters and magical beasts occupying the lower floors.
As this continued, the tower inevitably weakened.
Magic points were finite; sustaining losses without meaningful gains drained it.
Eventually, the Demon King lost the strength to defeat the Heroes.
But because she still had to replenish the tower, she forcibly summoned something.
The Heroes climbed again, slaughtered the weak creatures, and harvested the spoils.
As long as they did not reach the top, they never had to face the Demon King.
Thus the damage kept spreading upward.
Through that vicious cycle, the tower ceased being feared and turned into nothing more than a hunting ground for Heroes.
But all of that rested on one premise:
The Demon King did nothing and stayed stupidly passive.
And ridiculously, most Demon Kings did stay stupid.
Because that was the "proper way."
Because that was "normal."
They didn't realize they were being eaten away.
And when they finally did, it was too late.
Thus Reina was pushed into a corner and eventually used Jayson's help to instantly summon high-ranking magical beasts and obliterate them.
But this time was different.
She had learned of their plan in advance through Berze and prepared accordingly.
To find the cause of Hillen and Gillian's failure, he needed to understand that preparation.
'Reina wouldn't leave the tower. That means she drove them back using her subordinates, magical beasts, and monsters…'
He didn't know the exact number of northern tribes, but he knew there were dozens.
Large tribes numbered in the thousands, small ones in the hundreds.
Not all of them would obey Gillian Aint, but even if only ten joined, the number of warriors would exceed a thousand easily.
And with the White Eagle, Gillian Aint, the Red Hawk, and Hillen Cargill added to that—
'Could they really have been annihilated completely? Even if Reina had the most numerous vassals among the Demon Kings…'
And the Snowfields were their domain too.
"We'll know when we meet Granada."
"It's a relief Lord Granada survived."
"Yes."
Granada had been able to send a message because he escaped Reina's grasp and survived in the Snowfields.
Unlike the others who went missing, he chose the right direction to flee and managed to return to Imperial territory.
Granada was currently waiting for Berze and Ernan in a fortress city near the Snowfields.
"He said he was different from the Red Hawk, but this time he surpassed even the Red Hawk."
At least this time, it was in a good way.
If not for him, they wouldn't know the situation at all.
After finishing their meal, Berze and Ernan resumed heading north.
Perhaps due to the unrest in the Snowfields, the atmosphere all around felt tense.
Several days passed, and finally, they arrived at the northern fortress and met Granada.
"What exactly happened?"
"Just before we entered the tower, the tower's doors opened on their own. Demons and magical beasts poured out, and as if waiting for us, thousands of monsters attacked from all directions."
"…How many demons?"
Granada's explanation implied only one thing.
All-in?
Would Reina Sordein really do that?
But the real issue lay elsewhere.
"In the past few days, members of the Red Hawk and the White Eagle have been returning. The barbarians are also seeking refuge in the Empire."
"There were more survivors than expected?"
"Yes. Considering the scale of the battle, there are far more than one would expect."
Granada said something felt off.
But to Berze, it didn't seem strange.
"She acted like she wanted total annihilation, but she's still Reina."
Destroying the northern tribes completely and wiping out the White Eagle and Red Hawk would only alarm the Empire and the other kingdoms.
Reina preferred perfection.
And she likely judged it was not yet time to provoke the Empire further—thus avoiding unnecessary slaughter.
Good.
"Then Hillen Cargill should return soon."
Berze let out a relieved sigh.
A bit anticlimactic given how urgently he'd rushed here—but for him, that was a good outcome.
"Well… about that…"
"What now?"
"I asked every survivor, but not one saw Hillen."
"He probably just got lost."
"I hope it's just that…"
I feel uneasy.
Granada muttered.
Berze grimaced at the dispirited tone.
"Don't create unnecessary anxiety."
"…Yes."
'…Should I contact Reina under the pretext of checking in?'
Nothing beats hearing it from the person involved.
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