Chapter 324: The True Northern Warriors
But Cooper still had not caught any slaves.
It was not that he failed to find anyone, nor that some sudden Northern Warrior had leapt out and knocked him down.
Rather, it was because he brought news.
“Marquis Cohen is dead.” Cooper’s expression looked somewhat strange, his gaze shifting back and forth between Hode and Zeke. “They say it was the leader of the Comrades Group who could not bear to watch Marquis Cohen slaughter and persecute Northerners at will, so he struck and killed him.”
“The vast stretch of dark forest on the battlefield belongs to the leader of the Comrades Group, Hode. It is the power of the Holy Relic Heart of Frost, capable of making new life bloom upon the frozen soil of the North.”
Of course, Hode and Zeke noticed Cooper’s eyes. The two glanced at each other.
Zeke asked in a questioning tone, “A Holy Relic?”
Hode was the same, “The Heart of Frost?”
Zeke then asked, “Not from the Church?”
Hode replied, “Anything used by the Church would only be called a Holy Relic.”
Zeke hesitated, “So…”
Hode spoke decisively, “It must be Aureus. He truly has not died! Moreover, he is watching me right now!”
As he spoke, Hode lifted his head and looked toward the sky.
The northern sky was clear, with hardly a cloud to be seen.
“So, do we still go?” Cooper asked. “Now that the Marquis no longer stands in our way, we don’t need to capture slaves as a disguise anymore.”
“Go!” Hode and Zeke answered together.
Cooper then asked again, “Then, what about the people who came along with me? They only followed me because they revered the leader of the Comrades Group, the one who killed Marquis Cohen.”
Though Cooper tried his best to restrain the contempt that instinctively leaked from his Northern nature, and even tried to speak as calmly as possible, Hode and Zeke still detected a trace of strangeness.
Hode looked a little embarrassed, but Zeke’s expression remained calm as he said, “Send them to Sir Aen’s territory. We must go to Frozen Furnace Fortress. If we don’t pass through quickly, once the other high nobles realize what happened and start invading Marquis Cohen’s lands, then that will be new trouble for us.”
“The leader of the Comrades Group who killed a Marquis is far more provocative than just the leader of the Comrades Group.”
Hode very much wanted to say he had not done it.
But at this point, even he understood that people only believed what they wanted to believe. With the high nobles having torn the North into tatters, even common Northerners bore grievances in their hearts.
In such circumstances, aside from the Marquises and their close confidants, there was no one who would not want to hear news of a Marquis being slain.
Especially when the man in question was already known as the leader of the Comrades Group who had killed nobles before.
Look at Cooper—after just one outing, merely under the name of the Comrades Group leader, he had gathered twenty to thirty followers.
Even from fifty meters away, Hode could see the reverence in their eyes.
Hode thought of the Church of the Sanctuary.
Though he knew in his heart that to compare himself, who had already been stripped of his knighthood, with the Church of the Sanctuary was a kind of blasphemy—
He still could not help but wonder: when the Church of the Sanctuary first gained footing in the Diocese of York, was it something like this?
When nobles oppressed commoners, and the numbed people suddenly saw a beam of light, would they not have followed it without hesitation?
But unlike the Church of the Sanctuary, which truly allowed all under the Lord’s protection to rise and live as real human beings—
Hode had merely established a Comrades Group under the manipulation of Greenwood’s people and Aureus. At most, he simply restrained his men from bullying the weak, for he believed such was not the behavior of true warriors.
He preached that true warriors should challenge the strong, protect the weak, and be praised by their foes.
That until the final moment of life, they should fight with clenched fists, battle until death, and in the end, as true warriors, enter the glorious Hall of Heroes.
Hode thought such things were hardly worth much.
He did not know if, among the hundred members of the Comrades Group, even five truly believed in this path of the warrior and were willing to follow it.
At the very least, he, the leader, could not bring himself to believe it.
At the very least, most of these tales being spread now were not his doing, but rather arranged by those behind the scenes—whether Greenwood or Aureus—they had simply put it all upon him.
Still, Hode did not say much more. He only said, “Let’s do as Zeke says. The most important thing now is to meet Aureus.”
Zeke nodded and said, “Since Vice-Leader Cooper brought them here, then let Vice-Leader Cooper go tell them. Have them head to Sir Aen’s territory.”
“Just tell them like that?” Cooper asked.
“Of course…” Zeke paused, glanced at him, and then added, “Tell them the leader of the Comrades Group is going to Frozen Furnace City to handle something important, and has no spare strength to protect them. So they must go to Sir Aen’s territory, which is the Comrades Group’s base and under the Lord’s protection. There, they will be safe.”
In the end, he could not trust Cooper to improvise.
Cooper nodded, then relayed the words to the group exactly as they were.
The people exchanged glances until the oldest among them stepped forward and asked, “What great matter is the mighty Leader Hode going to Frozen Furnace City to handle? Though we are useless folk, there are two young men with some strength. They can help the mighty Leader Hode carry his battleaxe.”
Though called the oldest, he was only in his thirties, even younger than Cooper. Yet compared to Cooper, who had survived the Northern Trial of the Snowfield Berserk Bear and was built like iron, he looked ordinary.
The two young men he spoke of looked tender-faced, perhaps sixteen years old. Their so-called strength was only relative to the rest of these refugee commoners.
In Cooper’s eyes as vice-leader of the Comrades Group, neither even met the standard of a third rank warrior, the minimum for official members.
So he said, “If you are told to go to Sir Aen, then go. Why waste words?”
The group looked uneasy, but the older man still spoke, “The two of them revere the mighty Leader Hode. They believe only someone like him is a true Northern Warrior. They are quick-witted, they will not trouble you, and they are even willing to die for Leader Hode.”
The two boys quickly stepped forward, eyes filled with both fear and reverence, nodding rapidly.
Cooper could see clearly that no one had prompted them. They had stepped out on their own.
Cooper chuckled—not mockingly, but with encouragement softening his voice.
He said, “A man only has one life, and yet I see light in your eyes. I truly believe you will one day become true warriors. But for now, you are not yet true warriors, and you cannot help us. If you follow, you will only leave the North with two fewer true warriors.”
The two boys looked at each other, and one gathered his courage to ask, “Then… may we join the Comrades Group?”
“Of course,” Cooper replied. “The Comrades Group welcomes every true Northern Warrior.”
After a moment’s thought, he took out a York Gold Coin, its surface dented.
Handing it to the boy, he said, “This coin once saved my life in Hoover Territory. A fiend archer shot at me, and this coin blocked the arrow. Without it, I would have died there. Of course, I caught that fiend in the end. That was also the first fiend ever captured by the Comrades Group.”
“Now I give this to you. When you reach the Comrades Group, show it to the others. Those brats will know you are ones I have recognized. They will accept you as comrades.”
“But official members are all third rank. You two must work hard. Don’t shame the Comrades Group when it comes to real missions.”
The boy carefully held the coin with both hands, cherishing it, his face full of joy as was his companion’s. Around them, even the adults could not help but smile.
“We will,” the boy said firmly. “We will definitely become true warriors of the Comrades Group!”
Cooper laughed. He could not understand, nor did he wish to understand, what Hode and Zeke were scheming. He only felt that for the Comrades Group to become the aspiration of Northern youths was a great achievement.
Just as he once believed that so long as he could follow in his master’s footsteps, he was a true warrior—
These boys now believed that so long as they could truly become members of the Comrades Group, they too would be true warriors.
Perhaps, in the future, he himself would also be revered as a warrior by the Northern youth.
After all, he was vice-leader of the Comrades Group.
So Cooper thought suddenly.
Then he shook his head and said, “Enough with the grand words. In my life, I’ve heard countless people claim they would become true Northern Warriors, yet few ever did.”
“And you all—go on now, to Sir Aen’s territory. Don’t follow us. You won’t keep up with our pace.”
He turned and left.
But the boy clutching the coin suddenly called out, “My lord, what great matter are you going west to handle?”
Cooper did not look back. He only chuckled and said, “Ha, we’re just the Comrades Group. What great matter could we possibly handle?”
Behind him, the group murmured Cooper’s words.
“The Comrades Group… handle what…”
Suddenly, the boy with the coin hesitated before saying, “Those of the Comrades Group… they are true warriors. They challenge the strong, they protect the weak…”
The dented York Gold Coin in his hands gleamed brightly under the Morning Star’s light.
His companion’s eyes suddenly lit up with excitement.
“Are they going west to end the chaos of those nobles, and protect the oppressed commoners?”
The oldest man thought for a moment, then spoke as if he had just understood something.
“Yes! In the North, who is stronger than the Comrades Group? Only the nobles. And we commoners oppressed by the nobles—aren’t we the weak ones?”
Thus, piecing their thoughts together, they all believed that the Comrades Group was heading west to slay the other nobles—just like they had slain Marquis Cohen—and to end the Northern chaos!
“This is what a true Northern Warrior should be!” someone in the crowd suddenly shouted.
At once, silence fell—then they all burst into cries.
“Comrades Group! Comrades Group! Comrades Group!…”
…
Cooper had already met up with Hode and Zeke. They were packing food and arranging their equipment.
Or rather, only Hode truly needed to prepare.
He had to carry the wooden box of the Hunting Fang, and also shoulder his weapon—that double-headed axe.
As they prepared, they heard the distant shouts of the people.
Zeke asked Cooper, “What did you tell them? Why are they so excited?”
“I only told them what you told me to say,” Cooper replied.
Then, after a moment’s thought, he added uncertainly, “Perhaps because I promised two of those boys that they could join the Comrades Group?”
“They’re not even of age yet, are they?” Zeke asked. “And isn’t the minimum entry requirement for the Comrades Group at least third rank?”
Cooper chuckled, “Oh, my dear Vice-Leader Zeke, who was it that once said, ‘The Comrades Group welcomes any true warrior’?”
There was no attempt to hide the sarcasm in his tone.
Zeke ignored it and stressed, “It’s not because they are weak, but you know what the Comrades Group does. If they’re not strong enough, they will be in danger.”
“I know,” Cooper said. “But I believe those two truly are warriors.”
As he spoke, he glanced at Hode, who was standing by watching.
“They’re willing to die for the man they revere—you, the leader of the Comrades Group.”
Hode felt stifled. Others might not know the truth of the situation, but how could Cooper not?
After all, his every move these past years had been with Cooper.
Yet Hode could sense that Cooper was not mocking him—he was genuinely praising those two boys.
Cooper was the purest Northerner among the three. If he truly meant sarcasm, no matter how he tried to restrain it, it would inevitably leak into his words.
So in the end, Hode only said, “Cooper, you are the vice-leader of the Comrades Group. If you acknowledge them, then naturally they have the right to join. But The Ring is the core of the Comrades Group. Only by passing the Trial and becoming true fourth-rank Northern Warriors can they enter.”
“Of course, I know the importance of The Ring,” Cooper replied. “It’s just like the knights of Greenwood who swear fealty to nobles, or the Northern Warriors who swear to their lords. If they don’t reach the fourth rank, they’ll remain ordinary members. I only admire their courage to die for you, not that I actually want them to die.”
Hode nodded. “Yes, that is exactly it. I trust your judgment.”
Cooper grinned. “Of course—you can absolutely trust me.”
Then he shot a glance at Zeke.
Zeke shifted uncomfortably. “Enough. If we’re all packed, we should leave. The sooner we reach Frozen Furnace City, the more we can avoid crossing paths with those Marquises.”
The image of Marquis Cohen roaring into the storm of arrows flashed in their minds, and the three of them shuddered.
But once it passed, Hode and Cooper—both now certain that Aureus was behind Marquis Cohen’s death—could not help but wonder: just how powerful was King Aureus?
…
When they truly laid eyes on King Aureus, both men were shaken.
This was beneath Frozen Furnace Fortress.
After Marquis Cohen’s death, the three encountered no obstacles, and in six days of travel they reached Frozen Furnace City.
By then, Frozen Furnace City was a ruin. Its walls had collapsed, its houses shattered, and even the fortress at its core had half crumbled.
Yet following Zeke, they found a secluded spot with a passage leading underground—its entrance clearly cleared by someone’s hand.
They knew they had found the right place.
Descending the passage, they entered a vast underground chamber.
The entire space was cloaked in ice and snow. Their fur boots crunched against the frozen ground, and they could feel the cold seeping up from the depths.
But they were Northerners—this chill could not yet hinder them. They only stood in stunned silence, staring at the figure upon a throne.
No, not a figure—more like a skeleton wrapped in skin. In the frozen wound across its chest, there was no blood, its organs long withered.
The only trace of red was at the corner of its mouth.
Zeke fell to his knees, weeping bitterly.
Hode’s feelings were tangled. Even when he had last seen Aureus frail and wasted, he still seemed alive. But now, before his eyes, was only the appearance of one long dead—like a corpse dug out from an iceberg.
Then Aureus stirred. His eyes opened, glowing with a ghastly green light. He looked at the weeping Zeke, and his voice rasped like a frigid, cutting wind.
“Zeke, you have done well. I am proud of you. You, Joaquin, Quinn, Calon, Aric, and the others—you are like my children. But alas, I cannot leave you all that I once planned.”
Through tears, Zeke answered, “You have already given us the best. It is only we who cannot fulfill your vow.”
“No, do not regret it,” Aureus said. “As the Lord has said, each person has their own mission. I have mine, and you must have your future.”
“To free the North from its curse—that was my vow. Your willingness to aid me is what I should be grateful for.”
Zeke lowered his head, saying nothing more.
Aureus turned to Hode. “So, have you come to give me your answer?”
“You should already know my answer,” Hode said.
Aureus chuckled. “Then I already know it. But my life is running out. Even Cohen’s mighty heart could only let me linger, breathing faintly.”
He shifted, propping himself against the throne, sighing.
“I thought I could last a few more years, to clash with the Lord of Annihilation when he invades, to test his strength for you. But the blood of the North made me reckless one last time, and I have spent the last of my vitality.”
“After this, I cannot help you continue.”
“Perhaps it has already been fulfilled,” Hode said.
“Greenwood’s Aen has already become a Northern noble. The chaos among the nobles drives the Northerners into his lands, and that buffer zone has space enough to house them. The Comrades Group has his recognition. He has not built a new Mercenary Tavern in his lands.”
“And since Greenwood has already made his men nobles in the North, they will not stand by as the Lords of Annihilation destroy it. Sir Aen’s land faces the Fiends of Annihilation directly.”
“Heh-heh-heh.” Aureus laughed. “But they are Greenwood’s people, not Northerners.”
“And when I once fought Greenwood’s future king, my instincts told me—the so-called Lord of Annihilation is not even worthy of Greenwood’s true attention. His invasion is destined to be crushed.”
“Isn’t that what we wish for?” Hode asked. “For the North to survive, for the spirit of the Northern Warriors to be passed on through the Comrades Group?”
“No,” Aureus said. “That is only what you wish. What I wish, what the North wishes, is to end the invasion with our own Northern strength.”
“That is impossible,” Hode replied. “Sir Aen already revealed that Greenwood has at least seven fifth-rank Great Knights equal to marquises and earls, and at least two Heroes beyond them. Even their knights rival Northern Warriors. Some of their Oath Knights are stronger than most Northerners.”
“But the North? After your death, only four fifth-rank nobles remain. I don’t believe that is enough to resist the Knights of Annihilation.”
“The Comrades Group has captured some fiends recently, but they were strong. So far we have only captured a few, and even then it was Ring Warriors who led those hunts…”
Aureus cut him off. “You are afraid of the Church of the Sanctuary, where you once served.”
Hode fell silent.
“Yes, of course you fear them,” Aureus continued. “I went there once. I know how powerful they are.”
“You must know this now. Within the structure speculated by the monasteries under the Church of the Sanctuary, Castag was likely an eighth-rank existence. And eighth rank is truly divine.”
“But Castag was still slain in Greenwood. That proves they can kill a true god—and did so without a sound.”
“Castag! Even if witless, his dying strike could have changed half of Greenwood, turning it into a frozen North. But he still died. His death even brought a miracle in Greenwood. How can one not fear such power?”
Then Aureus rose, bracing on the throne, his bent frame suddenly straightened, standing tall on the steps, looking down upon Hode.
“You fear Greenwood. Your fear of Annihilation is not as deep as your fear of them. They are too powerful. That is why you cling to them—just as this past year, you have been pushed along by me and by Greenwood alike.”
“That is your aid, your strength. You should not be ashamed. Learn to wield it, and it will be yours.”
“But never forget: a true Northern Warrior does not fear the strong. He does not rely on others. He roars in fury against whatever he must face.”
Then he raised a hand and pointed at Cooper.
With a sudden boom, Cooper’s head exploded. Blood sprayed, drenching Hode.