Chapter 171 — The Battle of the Riverbank
Airien stood at the river's edge.
The current flowed as lazily as ever. Only the color of the water was black. Dead fish and human corpses drifted here and there across the surface, and a faint stench of rot rose from below.
The elves waded in one by one, ankle-deep. They whispered in low voices, like wind. Ancient words carried on the breeze, scattering in all directions.
"Stirring up the river—is that truly possible?"
Gregor voiced the question on everyone's mind.
Calix, too, had been full of skepticism at first. But before long, he felt something change in the ripples lapping at his feet. The beating of his heart gradually fell into rhythm with the natural flow.
Ssshhh.
At first, it was no more than a faint shift. The Rodir River, which had been holding its breath in silence, trembled softly—as though listening to an invisible force.
Then the small waves collided and broke, drawing circles, and those rings overlapped and were pulled inward. On the surface, no great surge had yet risen. But at some point the current went still, and every sound around them ceased completely.
Boom—
In an instant, the middle of the river caved inward—then surged upward in a sudden, serpentine writhe. The smooth surface split apart, silver foam burst outward, and the sand and stones of the riverbed heaved.
In a heartbeat, the wind blew backward. The current swirled and rushed toward the downstream. Willow roots submerged beneath the water bent in fright, and the reeds that had been floating snapped and were swept away.
Before Calix's eyes, the Rodir River changed its face.
The dark, brooding surface flipped over violently, like the rough hide of an enraged beast. Sand clawed up from the riverbed and beat against the bank, and deeply embedded rocks tilted slowly, unable to hold any longer.
Crash— with a thunderous roar, the river surged and hurled spray into the air.
"……Truly remarkable."
Master Sevi Belgrado murmured to himself.
"To think you'd been hiding something this spectacular all along!"
Gregor exclaimed in admiration once more—but Calix's gaze was fixed on the elves. Airien's complexion had gone pale, and cold sweat ran down her face without pause. Her fingers trembled finely, and her breathing had fallen into great disarray.
"Enough. That's as far as we go."
At those words, the elves broke off the ritual and stepped back from the river's edge as though they had been waiting for just that. When Airien's eyes met Calix's, she whispered quietly.
"……We can strengthen the force of the current like this, but we cannot greatly warp the flow itself. Nor can it be sustained for long. The tainted river already carries fury within it."
"The strain looks immense—are you alright?"
At the question that followed, she steadied her breath with effort.
"The longer you bind the flow of nature, the more it slips beyond control. It always claims its price from the one who made the request. Even so…… yes, this much I can still manage."
Calix supported Airien while quietly watching the spot where the waves were dissipating. The width of the river's course was on the narrow side, but this would be force enough.
Hadiya seemed to be thinking the same thing.
"It'll definitely help. There's a stretch downstream where the water runs shallow. If they cross, that's where it'll be. If we unleash it then—"
He gave a short nod.
"It'll work. The key is not missing that moment."
Once the battle broke out with the main force, they would need to hold out long enough for the elves to act. It was dangerous, but it would yield a certain reward.
"Give the order, Calix."
With that, Airien spoke her final words, her expression full of conviction. That night, the Rodir River reclaimed its calm—but that stillness did not last long.
The vanguard of Verhas was advancing, flying the standard of the legion commander.
* * *
Dawn mist blanketed the riverbank. The wind was not cold, but the river water was enough to freeze the joints of one's fingers.
The Alliance soldiers prepared for battle, each at their post. The clergy of the Order had recited their prayers long since, and the knights knelt in silence, reaffirming their honor.
As blades were drawn across whetstones, the grain of the iron emerged along every stroke. Spears and swords caught the faint light and glinted silver.
Near the riverbank, crates filled with javelins were lined up in rows. The banners drooped heavy with mist, and the sound of tightening shield straps broke the stillness of the early morning.
Vice-captain Marik had climbed to a high piece of ground together with Calix. In preparation for battle, key members of the Mountain Rabbits—Royce, Basim, and others—had gathered in one place.
Below the hill, the enemy's forces were visible at a glance.
"No different from an ant colony."
"They say it borders on arrogance. Well, even so—this isn't a fight they win with numbers."
As expected, Verhas's vanguard had split in two. Half came down along the river's course, and the rest had taken the rugged mountain terrain.
Mage Yelayen spoke in a low voice.
"A foul aura is spreading."
Calix saw the same thing. Not quite at the level of a legion commander, but there were two powerful warriors—on par with Growl, whom they had clashed with not long ago. One was moving along the riverbank, the other had entered the mountains.
"As expected—do the enemy this time actually think?"
"They have always been capable of thought. Until now, they simply had no need for it."
Should he go out personally, even now?
Calix forced the worry in his chest aside. He couldn't hold both sides at once regardless. He had to trust his comrades.
"Coordination is what matters. If one side collapses, our line of retreat gets cut off."
Basim snorted and shot back.
"So if our retreat somehow does get cut off, I can blame our allies as I die?"
"……"
"Joking. But what's certain is that Marik will have no cause to curse my name. We Dwarves are never late. The preparations to bring down the gorge were finished long ago."
A small thread of laughter wound through the taut tension.
With that, preparations to clash on both fronts were complete, and Calix had to hold firm as the center between them.
Shortly after, Marik returned to the defensive line along the riverbank. Zahira and Adrian held to his flanks, but there was no sign of Calix.
He slowly drew a long breath and rubbed his fingertips together. Turning to look behind him, the veteran soldiers carrying shields had already formed their ranks.
From somewhere far off, the sound of drums came faintly through the air.
‘If I fail to hold it, everything ends in that moment.’
A desperate resolve settled in the man's eyes. At least one thing was certain. When the time came he would fall back—but he had no intention of leaving as though he were fleeing.
* * *
Just before the battle, only silence drifted over the riverbank.
Marik stood at the front of the shield wall, reading the flow of the battlefield. The soldiers' breaths trembled shallow with tension, and the sound of shields knocking together spread across the water.
The mud of the riverbank had been soaked through the night. The sky was overcast and ash-grey, veiling the sun, and the mist wrapped around the embankment, revealing only blurred silhouettes.
Skreeeeeee!!
Then, from the far side, the screech of a monster rang out. The vanguard led by wolf-riders came into view. They smashed through the shallows where the current ran low and charged forward.
"Shield wall, hold position!"
When Marik's command rang out, the veteran soldiers of the Silver Shield Legion gripped the center of the front line. Their ankles sank into the mud of the riverbank, but they bent their knees and dug in to keep from being driven back further.
Behind them, the priests recited their prayers in haste. Soon a sacred light spread, and the tips of spears and blades glimmered faintly silver.
But there was no time to feel Kriya's blessing—the first wave crashed in.
Rite-Stone weapons hammered against shield faces, and momentum-laden weight drove into the gaps of the front line. As though silence had never hung in the air, the clash of metal erupted and screams rang out everywhere.
Marik pushed straight forward.
In his hand was nothing but a single longsword. But the arc that iron rod carved out anchored comrades who looked on the verge of collapse. He drove the tip into a wolf's throat, drew the dagger at his hip to take the rider's life, then retrieved the sword and swung it toward the next enemy. Countless Corrupted fell, cut down by Marik's blade.
"Zahira!!"
Just then, a dull crash sounded to his left.
Volga swung his iron club and crushed outright two Corrupted who had been going for Zahira's back. His movements were rough and heavy, but the raw power of a single moment was something no one could dismiss.
"Hold the line! Don't give another step back!"
Marik darted between the gaps of the shield wall at once, rallying the soldiers. Even so, the chaos of the battlefield could not be fully contained.
Crash!!
One Corrupted forced its way through a gap and detonated itself. The body swelled, then with a thunderous roar tore dozens of soldiers to shreds.
"Don't flinch! Fill the gap!!"
He moved swiftly and blocked the center from being breached. Wolf cavalry tried to exploit the opening and pour through, but Ella's sacred-law spells arrived just in time.
"The, the Tunnel Worms—"
"The ground is too soft here for them to break through! Get up!"
And so they held out through the first collision. And in Marik's experience, if you could hold out just once, the army's morale held.
Sure enough, the rear of the Alliance forces began hurling javelins, and balance was restored to the battlefield. Someone among the soldiers shouted, raw with fury.
"You bastards—we haven't lost a single time yet!"
The enemy's numbers were great, but they were an army that had never known defeat.
Yet it was far too soon to feel at ease.
Thud…… thud……
From within the mist, a large shadow approached slowly. It was no footstep that made that sound. The wave of power carried the commanding presence of an enemy officer plainly through the air.
What emerged through the mist was the form of a human being—even more brutish than a beast. Rough breath burst out in white plumes of steam, and with every step the mud of the riverbank sank down.
[This body—Brawk—has arrived.]
The monster clad in copper-colored armor raised an enormous axe in both hands. The moisture-laden edge flashed, pointed at the shield wall bunched together.
"……No!"
Marik snatched up a shield someone had dropped and launched himself forward.
The instant Brawk's axe came down, shards of metal flew and a tremendous shockwave erupted. The mist was blown back in an instant, and the field of vision cleared sharply.
[You……]
And he held it.
Lowering his knees and leaning his body deep, he endured the enemy's blow to the last. In that moment, three or four soldiers pressed their shields against his flanks and braced his sides. In the gap that bought, other soldiers drove their spears forward—but the monster's hide sent every spearhead bouncing off like stone.
Brawk bore down on the opposing shield, pushing with sheer muscle. Just as the rite-stone axe took on an ominous sheen—Marik tilted the shield to the side and seized a comrade's spear shaft with his other hand.
Thunk—
A mana-imbued spear blade drove into Brawk's collarbone and buried itself deep. Instead of blood, a dark reddish pus oozed out freely. But Brawk only snarled in response and swung his axe again, pressing the assault.
"Vice-captain!"
Volga struck from the side with his club, batting Brawk's arm away. The axe's arc was thrown off and it gouged a hollow into the ground. In that opening, Marik pulled clear and raised his shield once more.
Then, three Mountain Rabbits stood side by side.
Marik. Volga. Zahira.
The Order's priests, seeming to sense that this fight would decide the battle's course, poured their sacred spells in.
At that moment, a faint silver pattern traced across Marik's arm. Zahira caught it out of the corner of her eye and swallowed a breath—but the man himself did not notice, and pushed his shield forward.
[Ca—alix!! Human who brought down the Legion Commander—I have come to take your head!]
Brawk roared the name of a young man and unleashed his fury. He brought the axe crashing down on the shield, swung his arm and sent Volga flying, and at Zahira—who pestered him with javelins—he launched a bolt of dark mana.
In the clash that followed, Marik played his role as the fulcrum flawlessly. He seized whatever weapons lay scattered on the ground and aimed for the monster's chest.
Though pushed back throughout the battle, he never ceded a clear advantage.
‘I hold. For the sake of those I hold dear.’
Seeing that, the soldiers in the rear raised a battle cry and pressed forward. The gaps were filled, and the river's current along the bank ran that much redder.
The line was on the verge of wavering—but Marik stepped forward and steadied it.
Then from far off, another horn sounded faintly. Near the foot of the mountains, the shadow of a larger mass was moving slowly.
Marik tightened his grip on his shield and drew a long, slow breath.
‘Focus, Marik.’
His gaze did not waver. At the gorge stood Captain Royce—and that was enough. For now, he had only to give everything he had to the enemy before him.
The Rodir River flowed on behind them in silence, bearing witness to it all. The battle had come on with ferocity from the very start—but an even fiercer current was drawing near.