Chapter 19

“I see them.”

Raising his head at the hunter’s voice, Jarl Austrberg peered into the distance.

“Where?” He asked.

“Where the scouts said they were coming from,” the hunter answered. “That’s why we’re here, right?”

His long white moustache twitched at the hunter’s flippant answer.

“How many made it up here?”

“They just appeared,” the hunter replied, “and it looks like there’s plenty more coming.”

Jarl Austrberg’s eyes narrowed further, trying to figure out what he was looking at. Still…damn hunters – what were they doing?

“How did so many get by all the chutes?” He asked, “We did send people up there, didn’t we?”

“They should’ve been in position over a day ago,” the hunter said, “but I haven’t heard anything at all.”

Jarl Austrberg looked up along the slopes of the steep valley that the glacier had carved out. There were no visible signs of any avalanches being set off; no clouds of powder or tremors in the air.

“Those Undead from the Dwarven road don’t climb up mountains, do they?”

“They’ve been there for weeks now,” the hunter replied, “and all they did was stand there watching the sledges go back and forth.”

It didn’t add up. His mind went down a list of possibilities. The hunters that they sent couldn’t have all just failed to scale the peaks. Any of these Undead trying to climb up after them would simply be picked off by boulders…

“Could it be Frost Dragons? The Dwarves, these Undead, the Dragons…they’re all under the same, new master now, aren’t they?”

“Could be,” the hunter nodded slightly. “The hunters would stand no chance against a Frost Dragon if they were caught mid-climb. We wouldn’t have noticed the fighting either.”

Jarl Austrberg let out an annoyed breath, scanning the slopes once again. Giants and Dragons might be considered large by the standards of other races, but they were still mere specks against a mountain. Well, no matter the reason, the fact was that the hazards that they had intended on using lay unused.

A dull murmur arose from the Frost Giant line. In the distance, about halfway down the glacier, a crimson something appeared. The something grew until it divided in his vision to become two. They became more distinct shortly after and could be seen fluttering in the wind beside one another: flags or banners of some sort. Below them, a column marched forward, black figures nearly flush with the rocks and dirt of the glacier’s moraine.

As the minutes passed, individual members of the enemy army could be seen, their armour gleaming in the morning sun. Dozens, then hundreds snaked their way up in a column that brought to mind tales of the great, venomous Dragon that would appear from the seas at the end of the world. The column split, spreading out into a line below them. He furrowed his brow; it was beyond the effective range of most of their hunters.

“Should we begin?” The hunter who had first spotted the enemy asked, placing a hand on a pile of boulders, “Our best can still hit them easily from here – especially when they’re all nicely lined up like that.”

Jarl Austrberg nodded and gave the signal to commence the attack. Shouts rose from all along the line. Within moments, dozens of boulders hurtled down the slope.

The conditions of the day were not ideal, but their position was still overwhelmingly advantageous. Three hundred warriors and two hundred hunters were lined along the rim of the wide bowl that fed into the glacier below. The enemy arranged before them would have to weather a storm of attacks as they attempted to advance nearly a kilometre up the slope between the two battle lines. It would have been better if clouds or a blizzard concealed the Frost Giant forces, but worse if they had come at night. The limited range of their Darkvision meant that the enemy would have been able to come much closer unnoticed.

No retaliation rose from the black figures below, and Jarl Austrberg nodded in satisfaction. He was more than happy to accept this sort of confrontation. Dull clunks issued from below as boulders struck the enemy lines. A few of the projectiles could be seen flying high into the air as they bounced off of their marks.

“Fifty, or one hundred?” He asked.

“Fifty,” the hunter grunted as he hurled another boulder.

Fifty kilograms…roughly. They had boulders of varying weights collected in a veritable wall before them, and they were currently using the lightest to make the distance to the enemy force. Though they were the ‘lightest’, one thrown by a powerful hunter was enough to instantly destroy almost any target that wasn’t a Giant, a Dragon, or some powerful monster. The enemy line, however, continued to form, seemingly unperturbed by the assault.

“Are they being harmed at all?” Jarl Austrberg frowned as he watched.

“They should be,” the hunter said, “but it’s hard to tell. The Undead just keep going until they’re destroyed. One thing’s for certain: they’re a lot tougher than the Skeletons that pop up once in a while.”

“We can do this all day,” Jarl Austrberg said. “Grind them to dust.”

Clunk. Clunk, clunk. Clunk. Clang. Clunk.

Boulders continued to rain down the slope. The enemy formation remained pristine, but if what the hunter said was correct, they would remain like that until they suddenly fell apart. A nearby warrior yawned loudly. The hunter raised his next boulder, then paused.

“Something’s happening.”

“Are they finally going down?”

The answer came when sections of the enemy line broke away to come forward.

"What are they doing?" He muttered.

Five distinct groups came forward, each assuming a formation that resembled a blunted diamond.

“One hundred!”

The Hunter’s call was relayed up and down the line, and their attack resumed again. As the enemy formation came closer, he saw that each member had drawn tightly against the next, locking their shields together. Even the 100 Kilogram boulders that struck them were deflected away.

“Two hundred!”

Their assault intensified. More hunters started to join in. The diamond formations increased their pace in perfect unison, causing many of the attacks to overreach.

“Four hundred!”

Boulders the size of elk smashed into the wall of shields. He had never seen the like before. The lowland tribes that they raided in the valleys and forests below could not withstand even one small boulder, never mind so many large ones. Those who were foolish enough to raise their pitiful shields in an attempt to block were crushed as if they had no protection at all.

“Six hundred!”

The warriors joined, doubling the volume of the torrent of stone. As unshakable as they appeared to be from a distance, he could now see the formations being jostled by the attacks that assailed them. Within fifty metres of the line, they stopped from the sheer force of the Frost Giants’ combined assault.

Jarl Austrberg barked out a laugh amidst the clamour of stone and ice striking metal. The other Jarls had been too timid and opted to stay out of the battle. The honour and glory for this victory would be his alone.

“Looks like that’s as far as they go!” He crowed, “Pound them to–”

As one, the Frost Giant army collapsed to the ground. Two hundred metres behind the Death Knight lines, Cocytus expelled a breath. The Dwarf beside him shuddered.

“Did...did I do that?”

The Commander-in-Chief was aghast, his face turned ashen grey. Cocytus glanced down at him.

The Dwarf had come to personally witness the battle, and Cocytus had granted him the privilege of carrying out the plan that he had put together with the rest of the war council. This was not simply to give credit where it was due, or serve as a diplomatic gesture, but an experiment to confirm the presence of certain abilities that Commander classes should have.

In Yggdrasil, Commander classes branched out into two paths that could be loosely defined as ‘Generals’ and ‘Captains’.

‘Generals’ were the support type, who provided their benefits from the rear. Their active skills affected a large number of subordinates under their command. The passive effects they conferred to those subordinates was also greater than that of a ‘Captain’.

‘Captains’ were durable combatants who led from the front. They had extremely powerful active skills that affected a small number of subordinates, but their army-wide effects were weaker than that of a ‘General’.

One was far easier to pick off than the other, especially when the locals were so weak that they could die before supporting forces could react. That being said, having both was optimal. Powerful – by the standards of this world – escorts and equipment were simple enough to provide for General types while they commanded a division made up of contingents led by Captain types. If all else failed, there was always resurrection.

Examples of both ‘Generals’ and ‘Captains’ could be found in this new world, but, like many things, things were not exactly the same. One might mistake the job and racial classes of this world’s natives as identical to those of Yggdrasil – most of Nazarick’s denizens did just that in the period following their arrival – but as time went by, it was clear that they were not.

According to Pandora’s Actor, classes in this world were seemingly formed out of ideas – the manifestation of a society’s lore and traditions. Skills, Abilities, Spells and Martial Arts were the product of purposeful development, and not guaranteed to be uniformly practised by those that possessed what appeared to be the same class. He even went so far as to present the possibility that each person’s – or at least culture’s – classes were unique to them: a product of one’s journey through life and how the systems of this world seemingly facilitated the conceptualization of identity. They only appeared to be the same because each person tended to adhere to the standards of their respective cultures.

Even balance was seemingly nonexistent; many classes were inordinately weak and seemingly incomplete. Some existed that would be considered absurdly powerful if not for the generally low level of the native population. Mechanical restrictions, requirements and prerequisites that one from Yggdrasil was accustomed to often did not exist, while new ones formulated from societal perceptions appeared in their place.

It was both confusing and confounding, especially considering that Cocytus and his general staff were now exploring the possibility of recruiting local commanders.

An ability that appeared commonly enough amongst Commanders of this world was the ability to freely communicate over long distances in a way that was akin to an advanced Message spell. As it happened, it was also an ability that all Commanders had in Yggdrasil. By gaining in classes with Commander skillsets, the range of the ability increased. With enough levels, a Commander could match the range of Message, and communicate with entire armies.

This was the main reason why he had the Dwarf Commander-in-Chief issue the orders for the war council’s plan, and he appeared to do so without questioning whether it was possible or not. Between other cases observed both within the Sorcerous Kingdom’s borders and beyond, it meant that it should at least be common knowledge where Commanders were utilized. It would be one of the first things that the army’s field commanders would be trained to do – everything else would come in time as they gained experience.

“This tactic,” Cocytus said, “displeases you?”

“I-I’m not sure what to think, really,” the Commander-in-Chief replied. “When we put it together, it sounded so unbelievably simple. And it was…disgustingly simple. Even if they’re the enemy, I can’t help but feel for them.”

Cocytus issued a grunt as he slowly nodded in agreement. As a creation of the Supreme Beings, he had been blessed with power that was in no way an achievement of his own. But he was instilled with the mindset of a warrior, and his way of thinking was often out of alignment with the other Guardians. They mostly treated what they had been bestowed with as a matter of course, and the toil and effort of others as unworthy of note.

He, on the other hand, recognized a warrior’s spirit – the hard work, resolve and meaning that one placed in their existence – regardless of their strength. Cocytus thought that perhaps, as his colleagues built up their own achievements over time, they would also come to develop an appreciation of the strange beings that they had come to rule over in their Master’s name.

The reaction of the Commander-in-Chief reflected his feelings on the sheer waste that came with the fall of hundreds of Frost Giants – the time, effort and resolve that had just been callously cast into oblivion. There were those amongst the other NPCs that might enjoy such scenes, but he did not.

“By my request,” Cocytus told him, “did you carry this out. The burden of responsibility…is the Sorcerous Kingdom’s. Your tactic: sound. The inspiration – from where did it come?”

“Our Kingdom’s been on the back foot for over a century,” the Commander-in-Chief said, “so we have plenty of defensive tactics like this. Shield walls protecting mages or crossbowmen, or just defending the walls. I saw how well these Death Knights could block Frost Giant boulders, so I figured the same thing could be done. Wasn’t sure if you had any mages, but then one of your vassals – the short brown one – said that we should stick in a Soul Eater.”

His tactic was simple enough to understand once it was presented. Death Knights would use a defensive formation structured to defeat incoming ranged attacks from the Frost Giants. To mitigate the knockback from the boulders, the ranks of the formation would be set five deep. In the middle of the protective wall of shields was a single Soul Eater, and they would all advance up towards the enemy line. Once they got into range…

Cocytus looked up towards the huge semi-circle of dead Frost Giants. Their position was a strong one, but ultimately ineffective against wide-area Death effects. Of the hundreds of Giants that stood defiant against them, perhaps two dozen remained standing. They were either strong enough to reliably resist the Soul Eaters, or just lucky. Some stood looking about in confusion while others charged down at the Death Knight formations, perhaps understanding that a hidden threat lay behind the wall of shields.

The Commander-in-Chief let out a sigh.

“Poor fools,” he said. “Only people as strong as these Frost Giants can fight so hard that their whole damn race runs headfirst into oblivion. They’ve never had to fight something so much stronger than themselves before, and they don’t know the meaning of surrender.”

“Indeed,” Cocytus replied. “It is…a shame. In the world beyond, others may exist. Like this. But…what can be done?”

“I don’t know,” the Commander-in-Chief said. “A gentleman like yourself might be able to bring them to heel through force alone, but that probably won’t do anything about how a culture based on their overwhelming strength interacts with others. Something like that would require an act of divine intervention.”