The icy blow of the hammer stopped cold, never reaching its target. Radiating steel light, the fast-moving sword erupted with hundreds of ghostly blades. In a heartbeat, the beast’s attack turned into a snowstorm that got swept away somewhere under the dome.
Hadjar was breathing heavily as he stared at his foe. The ape was wounded, but it still looked much better than the General currently felt. What was a small wound on its chest and a lost eye to this huge monster? Just a minor inconvenience, nothing more.
Hadjar could hardly stand, and his latest actions had taken most of his remaining energy and strength. According to his neural network, he had enough power left for one more stance of the ‘Light Breeze’ Technique or one ‘step’ of the ‘Ten Ravens’ and that was it.
The General could’ve sworn that, after assessing his condition, the ape was laughing at him. Its intermittent, deep roaring certainly sounded like laughter, at any rate.
It raised its hammer and swung it, sending a tornado of ice and snow flying toward Hadjar. The Alpha didn’t want to engage the bug up close. It was going to exhaust the insolent man from a distance, then sink its fangs into his flesh and tear, tear, tear…
[Threat level: lethal!]
Hadjar looked at the tornado approaching him. It left behind a trail of ice in the snow and shot large icicles out in many different directions.
If the General dodged, his army would no doubt suffer great losses, and he would be left defenseless against any attacks that came after. He wasn’t able to meet it head-on because he wasn’t sure that even his strongest stance of the ‘Spring Wind’ would be enough to completely dispel the tornado.
All he could do was face it. A calm wind facing a rock piercing the sky…
At that moment, something clicked in the General’s mind. Something that was the result of his last battle and the year of training he’d spent with the Shadow of the Immortal. He’d already used some of the knowledge he had gained to remove the stone from his heart, but that had been his heart, not his sword.
He was beginning to realize what the Immortal had been pointing to while Hadjar had been trying to cut into the stone statue.
The Alpha ape was already celebrating its victory and preparing for a bloody feast as the bug assumed a strange stance. It brought its blade behind its back and stood there calmly, looking relaxed. Its furs and skins fluttered gently in the wind.
“Calm Wind,” Hadjar said, invoking the remnants of his energy and embodying the second stance of the ‘Light Breeze’ Technique.
As soon as he performed the second stance... nothing happened. No spinning cocoon of wind sprung up around him, no snow spiraled underneath his feet.
A moment later, the tornado of ice struck its target... or at least that’s what the ape thought happened. In reality, the tornado moved around the General and flew back at the Alpha.
Roaring, the ape put its hammer out in front of it to meet the full force and power of its own attack. Then the Alpha saw a brief flash of steel and felt a chill that started spreading from its forehead and covered its whole body.
It fell to its knees, dropped its weapon, and collapsed in the snow, never even knowing what had killed it. Hadjar pulled Moon Beam out of his foe’s forehead and swung it upward to flick the blue blood off it.
He fell onto the giant’s carcass, too exhausted to keep going. His injured leg was already turning blue, and clouds of steam drifted out of his mouth.
Lacking a leader, the apes weren’t able to keep up with the enthusiastic soldiers.
A few minutes later, the battle was over.
Chapter 152
“Damn it,” Hadjar hissed.
He was sitting in his tent and trying to ease the pain in his leg—which he still couldn’t put any weight on. Sitting beside him, Nero carefully crushed some powders and roots that Serra had left him in a bowl. He then smeared the mixture onto the wound on Hadjar’s leg. The General growled as he felt a burning sensation accompanied by lots of pain.
He saw the terrible wound slowly scab over, turning into a horrific scar.
“I think she specifically picked these remedies for us,” Nero said as he coated the wound with a liberal amount of the salve.
Hadjar once again recalled the nastiest curses he’d ever heard.
“Have you done something to upset her?” Hadjar asked through gritted teeth.
He didn’t hear Nero’s answer. The pain got so bad he lost consciousness. The General collapsed on the spread-out skins and began to tremble. He didn’t hear Nero’s panicked cry or him ordering the soldiers to bring in the firewood and furs that had been prepared.
The warriors lit bonfires and wrapped their General up, trying to keep him warm and, more importantly, alive. All night, Nero sat next to his friend. He changed the cold bandage on Hadjar’s forehead, made him drink specially prepared potions, and changed the skins when a yellow substance that was leaking out of the wounds on Hadjar’s body soiled them.
Apparently, the apes’ fangs weren’t quite so innocuous, so Nero had given the order to cut their skins off as carefully as possible. It had taken half a day just to break down the ice wall. Then it had taken just as much time to dig out the apes’ bodies from under the avalanche.
The next day was devoted to the apes’ carcasses that had remained inside the dome. It hadn’t taken much time to remove some skins, fangs and claws. All of it was completed while fifteen funeral fires burned. That’s how many soldiers hadn’t survived the final battle. The men who’d survived, even if they’d been green before, now had the same air about them as their previously more experienced comrades did. They were calm and confident in their abilities—as if they now knew something that ordinary people didn’t.
They sang dirges for their dead comrades as Hadjar thrashed around in his delirium. He kept muttering something about ‘a white witch from the Islands’. Nero knew who his friend was raving about, but he didn’t understand why. The General was usually never sentimental.
On the third day, they finished their work. By the evening of that same day, the General’s fever had finally subsided. The only trace left of the battle was on Hadjar’s body, in the form of a terrible scar across his right calf. It would always remain there, even though the beast’s fangs had only punched through the flesh.
No one argued as Nero assumed control of the squad. He ordered the soldiers to erect several tombstones. It took half the night to complete, and then, in the morning, the squad took off.
They returned home victorious, with almost four hundred cores from the white apes. In Lidus and Balium, this was undoubtedly a fortune that could buy a few castles and fortresses. Even in the border cities of the Empire, a person could use this hoard to buy a good house or become a disciple of the outer circle in a small martial arts school.
None of the soldiers even thought about doing that. No one even glanced at the bales full of cores, and there was neither greed nor the desire to snatch a piece of loot for themselves in their eyes. For the sake of attaining these cores, many of their comrades had given their lives, and for their sake, the famous General had risked his own. It had been like a dragon fighting the giant ape, not allowing its attacks to reach the rest of its squad.
“Dragon... dragon... dragon...” The soldiers whispered the word repeatedly, giving birth to the General’s nickname. It was just an echo of the nickname, but still.
Dragon’s Tooth and Moon Leen had once received their second names and now it was Hadjar’s turn to get his. One that he’d earned with his sword, not through birth.
“Do you feel like a nobleman?” Nero asked, noticing that his friend had finally woken up.
The General was being carried on a stretcher made from ape bones. Covered with animal skins, he really looked like a resting nobleman being dragged along on his servants’ backs. The difference was that Hadjar wasn’t a nobleman at all, and each of the soldiers carrying him was more than honored to have been given the task.
“What... is this?” Ha
djar asked.
He was covered with a heavy white skin.
“We’ve flayed the Alpha ape,” Nero said. “That’ll make a nice cloak for you. It only needs to be tanned. We’ve cleared all the meat off it and smeared it with dirt so it doesn’t stink, but, you know…”
Hadjar only nodded in understanding.
He looked up at the sky and prayed that the next storm wouldn’t come soon. Hadjar didn’t feel like he had a drop of strength remaining in his body, and he doubted that he could survive any more bad weather. Of course, his warriors wouldn’t let their General die, but who knew what sort of dangers could be lurking inside a snowstorm.
Hadjar wasn’t planning to become a burden on his squad.
“What... with... cores?” Speaking was difficult for Hadjar. He didn’t even have enough strength left to move his tongue.
The ape which the General had fought had been as powerful as a Heaven Soldier at the second Stage. If it’d had the same knowledge and skills as a true cultivator, it would’ve killed not only Hadjar but his whole squad as well.
“We’ve gathered them all.”
“How many?”
“Enough,” Nero said, patting the bales that were tied to the stretcher, “to squander them on your damned ice fortress.”
Hadjar nodded and fell asleep again. The next few days were fairly routine. They marched, avoiding the places that were exuding the auras of strong and evil animals, and carrying the stretcher with the General on it. Every day, the camp got closer, and Hadjar felt more of his strength returning.
Thank the gods or perhaps good fortune that no snowstorm waylaid them.
When the three pillars that marked the entrance to the pavilion appeared on the horizon, Hadjar demanded that they let him dismount from the stretcher. He wasn’t going to show his current weakness to any of the spies that he knew would be hiding among his army.
As they approached the golden dome, Nero gave a signal, releasing a pre-prepared flare into the sky. It erupted with golden and green sparks. Five minutes later, an arch appeared in the dome and the battered and bruised squad entered through it.
But there were no joyous cries or cheers to greet them. The entire army had gathered at the northern entrance to the pavilion in full armor and heavily armed.
Breathless, Serra ran toward the soldiers. She looked very worried.
“What’s happ-” Nero tried to get out.
“General,” the witch interrupted, staring at Hadjar, “for two days now, a sectarian has been standing near the entrance to the dome, holding the witch from the village hostage. He says you need to-”
Hadjar didn’t listen to Serra any longer. He wanted to run, but he ended up just stumbling. His friend’s timely intervention prevented him from falling. Moving carefully, he soon reached the North passage.
Hadjar tried to hold onto Nero inconspicuously, but crafty people noticed the General’s weakness and currently incapacitated state.
The army parted before him. Tuur, who had been leading the commanders, gave Hadjar the medallion back. He put it on and stopped in front of the dome.
On the other side was the assassin whose life he hadn’t been able to end. His face was still hidden under his hood. He held Nehen in front of him with a dagger to her throat.
The woman’s back was straight, and there was no fear in her black eyes, only fatigue.
“Why haven’t you dealt with him already?” Hadjar asked, detaching his sheath from his belt.
“It could be a trap, my Gene-”
Tuur didn’t manage to finish speaking. A powerful wave of Hadjar’s hand stopped him. The General looked at Serra, and she shook her head. She’d seen her friend’s condition and wasn’t going to let him go to his death. She didn’t care what sort of medallion was on Hadjar’s chest. First and foremost, he was her friend.
Who knew what would’ve happened if Nero’s hand hadn’t rested on his beloved’s shoulder at that moment. In the blond warrior’s eyes, Serra read everything that she needed to know. If she raised the dome, Hadjar would probably die, but if she forced him to remain inside, she would kill him as a warrior, trampling on his honor.
Hadjar went through the arch which immediately closed behind him.
“I’ve been waiting a long time for you to return,” the assassin said. “I see you aren’t surprised by me being here.”
Hadjar was silent. He inhaled the scent of Nehen’s skin, brought to him on the wind.
“It wasn’t difficult to find out who you’d spent that night with. But I hadn’t expected that I would need to hang around for two days to have the honor of ending your life, valiant General.”
Hadjar still didn’t answer.
Nehen smiled at him. It was a warm and kind smile. It had been a long time since anyone had looked at him like that.
“You know, I’d planned to let her go. Honest. But you made me wait. When a man waits for something, all sorts of bad thoughts tend to enter his head.”
Her skin smelled like the forest, the snow, and the sea. Her black hair fluttered in the wind, and her light dress was stained with mud, but even that didn’t detract from her beauty.
“You killed my brother!” The assassin let out an inhuman shriek, full of barely hidden pain. “You killed my brother... And now we’re even, General!”
The assassin drew his dagger.
They were almost twenty yards apart. Hadjar couldn’t bare his blade because it might harm Nehen as well. He couldn’t stop the dagger in time. He just looked into those deep, dark eyes.
The people looked at their General. Or rather, at the place where he’d been standing just a moment ago.
The next thing they saw was Hadjar’s shadow turning into the ghostly silhouette of a dragon. The dragon slammed into the assassin’s face with its paws and then the assassin and the dragon fell over the edge of the cliff.
Only Nehen remained.
A thin trickle of blood ran down her neck. Behind her, over the precipice, two people had disappeared from view.
The commanders shouted something; Serra opened the arch. A soldier holding some rope ran toward the cliff. They tied the rope around themselves, fastened the other end around a rock near the edge, and jumped down fearlessly after the General.
Nehen stood motionless, ignoring what was happening around her.
With her sharp, almost inhuman eyes, she saw a man hanging onto a rock somewhere below, on the cliff face. He’d plunged his blade into the rock and was holding on to it with all his remaining strength. He wasn’t looking down nor to the side. Only into her eyes.
Below, at the foot of the cliff, the assassin lay dead. His pink hair was fanned out around him and his face showed only one emotion—peace.
Chapter 153
“One, two, heave!” Hadjar pulled the rope. “One, two, heave!”
He was working alongside a thousand soldiers as they placed another ice block on the massive wall. The last two months had flown by as quickly as an arrow fired from a bow. Thanks to the advice the neural network provided and Tuur’s plans, it had been possible to construct a real ice fort.
Such a construction required a few basic components. The first one was labor. They easily had enough of that in the ever-expanding Moon Army—even if it was now more like the army of the Commonwealth of Balium and Lidus because the Baliumians made up over seventy percent of their numbers. The second and most important thing was having enough construction material.
The wall that now surrounded the sixth sect pavilion was twelve feet thick and nearly seventy feet tall. One block, which the soldiers and the General had just dragged on top of it, weighed at least 10 tons. Any Knight of the Spirit could’ve lifted such a block and effortlessly thrown it onto the wall, but there were no Knights of the Spirit in their army.
The blocks were made outside the pavilion’s grounds. Tuur and his team had invented strange devices that looked like oval mirrors. In the center of these mirrors, in a special box, the core of a white ape would be load
ed, then the device would be activated by using the handle. This released a blue beam that froze the very droplets of water in the air, creating these huge ice blocks.
The terrible cold still persisted all around them. Hadjar had ordered that the warmest clothes and furs be given to the workers who were producing the ice blocks. They were also paid a triple rate. None of the soldiers complained about this. Everyone could get that job, but there were fewer and fewer volunteers coming forward every day.
Hadjar had heard a story about one particular axe wielder who’d used the work to advance his Techniques. They’d had something to do with ice. Well, Hadjar wasn’t going to complain. The more strong practitioners they had in the army, the better.
The librarian probably wouldn’t have agreed with him. The Darnassian was becoming more annoying by the day. Frowning with anger, he often wanted to meet with Hadjar, but the General wasn’t keen on obliging the cultivator’s every whim. Besides, he no longer had any fear of the Heaven Soldier.
“We can handle this, General,” Helion said.
The cavalryman wasn’t just good in the saddle, but he was also impressive at building. In fact, he’d led the construction of the wall—which had turned out very well indeed. It was now possible to stand on the wide parapet he had constructed, and dozens of quivers and siege crossbows had been put on the walls in anticipation of the assault to come.
They’d also built a wide platform for a trebuchet. The artillery piece was guarded day and night and kept warm so that the cold wouldn’t chip away at the fragile wood.
Besides the walls and icy cliffs, they also had the steel multi-barrel cannons made by Tuur and the blacksmiths to defend themselves with. Hadjar had personally seen one of these weapons successfully turn a rocky ledge into mere dust. Unfortunately, at the end of the demonstration, it had exploded, injuring the operator severely. As bad as that sounded, it was still worth it.
Dragon Heart: Iron Will. LitRPG Wuxia Series: Book 2 Page 40