Chapter 25: The Wall (1)

The monster incursions continued. Given their aim of preventing repairs to the wall, that was only natural. Yet even though the defenders were prepared for it, their losses kept mounting.

Their enemies were monsters from the Outside. However few came, casualties were unavoidable. And simply watching another person die right beside them gradually ate away at their hearts.

Above all, these people had been fighting since before Frondier arrived. Their exhaustion had already peaked, and their minds were crumbling. Yet those who looked ready to collapse at any moment were still holding on.

The reason was Frondier.

“Hold your ground! Focus only on what’s in front of you! Forget about the ‘birds’! All you’ve got to face are those packs of dogs!”

Frondier’s participation had changed the course of battle, most noticeably in the air. Unlike the slaves, the knights and soldiers had suffered their heaviest losses from the ‘winged ones.’ Those creatures could fly over the wall to attack.

Ordinary arrows could not easily pierce the monsters’ tough hides, and even hitting them was difficult. When those creatures attacked the knights and soldiers stationed atop the wall, everything above and below descended into utter chaos.

Even if they brought every last one down before it reached the wall, there was no guarantee they could always do so. In other words, everyone fighting had to face the monsters before them while the fear of an attack swooping down at any moment gnawed at their nerves.

THUD! THUD-THUD!

But Frondier single-handedly crushed those troublesome wings. He dealt with nearly all the flying monsters himself, and even if any slipped through, the remaining defenders could handle that many easily enough.

“Frondier! Move left! Try to bring them down where there are monsters below!”

“I’ll try.”

With things going this way, Sanders began giving Frondier separate orders outright. It was an acknowledgment of his abilities, but Sanders also shouted those orders so the prisoners and soldiers below could hear. Giving Frondier orders meant he was still alive and well.

Before they knew it, the troops fighting on the ground had gained a certain conviction: at least while Frondier was in the battle, no attacks would come from above.

And there was something else.

[“While I’m in Teibeon, not a single knight will die.”]

That declaration had given the knights far more strength than expected.

Prisoners accounted for most of the deaths in these battles, but a single knight’s life mattered more than all of theirs combined. Knights could command groups of prisoners and soldiers, face numerous monsters alone, and hold their morale on the battlefield more readily than either. A gap in the knights’ ranks meant the very balance of the battle would be shaken.

Yet, astonishingly, Frondier was still keeping the promise that had begun with a wager. It was his tenth day in Teibeon. The number of knights killed so far remained zero.

‘Hmm. That boy snapped the knights out of it.’

So thought Hector, who had once chattered incessantly beside Frondier.

Before Frondier arrived, even the knights’ thoughts had been turning toward despair. They had taken it for granted that some of them would die.

Then Frondier had said:

[“Who here do you think will die? Is any of you that desperate to get himself killed?”]

Someone would die. Inevitably, on this battlefield.

Then who would it be?

Faced with that question, they had to realize, whether they liked it or not, that the someone could be them.

“Kill them! Cut them down, every last one! Outside monsters are good at tricking you!”

But today, too—

“Crush the heads of all the fallen ones! Don’t turn your backs on them carelessly!”

Even now—

“Wounded who can walk, over here! Clear those carcasses away, quickly! Find anyone who’s still alive!”

Not a single knight had died.

* * *

A meeting of the knight order was held with family head Lidwe and Imperial Princess Aten in attendance.

“All that talk about the ‘Outside,’ and they’re nothing special!”

“We used to hold them off at the gate, but this time we were almost pushing them back!”

“I thought we’d gone on the offensive!”

“Hahaha!”

Before the meeting, of course, the excited knights talked animatedly about the latest battle.

“Frondier was incredible. He took care of every one of those pests!”

“At first I wondered what some wet-behind-the-ears boy was doing here.”

“Well, he is wet behind the ears. Maybe that’s why he fights so well! All that young blood pumping through him!”

Praise for Frondier continued to pour forth.

Fewer people had died since Frondier arrived. That simple fact alone was enough to reverse their opinion of him. He was still winning the wager, though by now the wager hardly mattered.

“... Hmm, yes. We can call today’s defense a success. What do you think, Frondier?”

After quietly listening to the knights, Sanders turned the question to Frondier. Until now, he had merely sat there; at last, he was given the floor. This, too, was an acknowledgment of his achievements over the past ten days.

He had kept casualties among the prisoners and soldiers to a minimum, and not one knight had suffered a serious injury, let alone died. It had been a difficult fight, but these results were not bad at all.

Facing the men whose spirits were soaring, Frondier, the man responsible for those distinguished achievements, slowly spoke.

“The situation is bad.”

“...”

With that one remark, Frondier threw cold water over the room, killed the mood, and spoiled everything. Yet his expression was far too grave to dismiss it as mere tactlessness.

“On Commander Sanders’s orders, I surveyed the entire wall from the left flank.”

Frondier pointed to the map on the central table.

“Here. The far-right section is already past the point where it can hold.”

He had examined it with Analysis, so he was almost certain. The right side of the wall was now as precarious as a Jenga tower with only its last supporting block left.

“You’re saying you checked the wall for damage in the middle of that hectic battle? With your eyes alone?”

“Yes.”

Frondier answered calmly. But his claim was so difficult to believe that Sanders turned to Aten.

“Your Highness, what do you think? You inspected the wall, didn’t you?”

Aten furrowed her brow and brought a hand to her mouth. In a way, she, too, was astonished by Frondier.

“... It is true that the section Fron—Sir Roah has indicated is the wall’s weakest point. But whether it is in such imminent danger of collapse as he says...”

Her answer made the atmosphere even graver. Even if imminent collapse was not certain, Frondier and Aten were pointing to the same location, lending his words greater credibility.

Lidwe spoke.

“Then we’ll just have to lure the monsters to one side. Gather the prisoners there. That’s how we’ve done it so far.”

Lure the monsters away from the wall’s weak section. Position the archers on the opposite side, open the gate, and send the prisoners outside; that should avert the immediate crisis.

But once again, Frondier shook his head.

“That won’t be easy.”

“What’s that?”

“The section I called unstable is in an entirely different condition from the weak points elsewhere in the wall.”

“Different? Just how unstable is it?”

“... Well. To put it this way...”

Frondier rubbed his whole hand across his mouth, seemingly considering how to explain.

“A blow anywhere on the wall now will bring the right side down.”

“...!”

A chill fell over the gathering. Several people’s eyes flew wide as they understood what that meant. Like a sandcastle that would collapse entirely if a wave touched even one pillar, the wall had reached its limit.

The collapse would begin on the right.

“... Aren’t you being too pessimistic? Couldn’t you have been mistaken?” Sanders asked.

“The sharp drop in casualties made me complacent. I neglected to check the wall.”

At Frondier’s words, everyone recalled the past ten days. He blamed himself, but in truth, they all bore responsibility. It was all the knights who had grown complacent and neglected their duties.

“... But in actual combat...” Sanders began again.

He kept objecting because, regardless of the facts, there was the question of morale. All the knights were listening to Frondier. Their morale could be shattered before the next battle even began. Even if he was telling the truth, they had to let it pass for now.

Understanding his intent, Frondier nodded.

“Of course, I have a countermeasure.”

“A countermeasure?”

“You have a countermeasure?”

Sanders and Lidwe asked at the same time. From what Frondier had said so far, they could see no possible solution.

“Yes. If the wall is in danger of collapse, we must build it back up. Even if only temporarily.”

Then he looked at Aten.

“First, I’ll need your help, Your Highness.”

“... Ice, then.”

Aten had guessed his answer.

Given enough time to deploy her spell formula, covering part of the wall in ice was possible. Moreover, this place was exceptionally cold even for the north. Getting the ice to adhere should pose no problem.

... The problem, however, was mana.

“... Thirty minutes at most, I would say.”

Aten gave her answer after making her own calculations. As expected, the knights’ faces failed to brighten much. Thirty minutes was far too short to withstand the monsters’ assault.

“Yes. That’s why we need one more person.”

“One more?”

“Yes. They needn’t be able to cast magic from scratch as you can, Your Highness. It will be enough if they can add mana to a spell that’s already been cast.”

“... Is there someone who can do that?”

Frondier made it sound easy, but merely being able to add mana to another person’s spell meant one had already graduated beyond novice mage status.

“Not yet, but there’s someone who can get there in a short time.”

“Someone like that... Oh.”

Aten guessed it as she spoke. Frondier gave a small nod to confirm she was right.

“Saibel. She should be able to do it. She can probably learn in about five days.”

“Hah.” Unable to contain his disbelief, Lidwe interrupted.

“Five days? Is that Saibel girl some once-in-a-generation genius? An ordinary person might take months just to sense and handle mana, and you’re saying she’ll go beyond that to channeling it into a spell in five days?”

Of course, to someone like Lidwe, who understood what magic required and possessed perfectly ordinary common sense, it was absurd.

But there was only one answer I could give.

“‘Once-in-a-generation genius’ is far too meager a description for Saibel.”

“...”

Lidwe stared blankly at me, blinking, then looked at Aten. She nodded without any expression at all, as though what I had said was perfectly obvious.

“Assuming that’s possible, what about the five days until then?”

This time it was Hector who spoke. The intervals between monster incursions were growing shorter and shorter. Hoping none would come in those five days went beyond optimism into delusion.

Of course, my answer to that was entirely obvious.

“I’ll handle them.”

“... Uh, what?”

Hector’s question was utterly guileless.

So I explained a little more helpfully.

“I’ll eliminate every last monster before they reach the wall.”