Clop clop clop...
Nidhogg rode Torrent like the wind, racing through the deep night across the barren wilderness. He followed the course of a raging river, gazing at the towering silhouette of Doldrey in the distance—a city of layered walls and fortifications.
This river was where Griffith would fight his final battle. The plain ahead was where Guts would wield his massive sword and successfully behead General Boscogn.
Nidhogg had come here as if on a pilgrimage to a holy site.
Of course, his real purpose was to reconnoiter the area around Doldrey.
By day, there was no cover. The defenders on the city walls would spot him instantly. Now was not the time for reconnaissance. At least at night, there was darkness to hide him. From this distance, he wouldn't be seen.
Nidhogg circled Doldrey at a distance on Torrent, then climbed to the summit of a nearby mountain. From this vantage point, he studied the city's defenses and confirmed what he already suspected: getting Torrent to leap the walls was impossible.
Torrent was incredibly agile, but he couldn't fly. And the defenders patrolled the walls day and night. The moment they touched down on the battlements, horns would sound, alerting the entire city.
Sneaking through the gates during the day was equally impossible. As Laban had said, the gates were rigorously checked by the defenders.
But if it were that easy to enter, the Kingdom of Midland would have retaken Doldrey centuries ago. Instead, the city remained a staging ground for the Tudor Empire's invasions.
However, that didn't mean there was no way in.
Nidhogg spotted cavalry in the distance, bearing the banner of the Tudor Empire, hurrying toward Doldrey.
The iron gates slowly rose. The cavalry crossed the drawbridge and entered the city.
Today was the perfect moment. A time of chaos.
The Tudor Empire had just won a great victory. The cavalry regiments sent to pursue the broken Midland army were returning to the city one after another, intermingled with the wounded, mercenary bands, prisoners, and plunder...
The gate guards were probably overwhelmed. Enforcing strict protocols every single time would be nearly impossible, even for modern soldiers—let alone this lot.
Nidhogg had a plan. He was going to try it.
"Torrent, you'll drop me off here. We'll have to separate for a while. I need to find a set of Tudor soldier's armor and blend into the crowd. You'd be too conspicuous."
The spirit steed raised his head and whinnied softly, as if in acknowledgment.
---
Early the next morning, another cavalry regiment hurried back to the gates of Doldrey. But these soldiers looked terrified.
They were the Black Iron Boar Lancers.
Last night, they had followed their commander in pursuit of the Midland noble knight Laban. But their hunt had been interrupted by a terrifying warrior who had cut a swath of slaughter through their ranks.
In the end, not only had they failed to capture Laban, but their commander had been killed by this fearsome knight. Their regiment had suffered heavy casualties.
For a time, the leaderless Black Iron Boar Lancers had scattered. Some had fled back to Doldrey. Others, afraid of being blamed for failing to protect their general, had simply deserted. Still others, unaware that their commander was dead, continued following orders, searching the forest for Laban.
This particular group had witnessed their commander's death at the hands of the mysterious knight. They could only wrap their commander's body in cloth and escort it back to Doldrey.
When the gate guards, still yawning with boredom, lifted the grey cloth and saw the commander's gruesome remains, they were horrified. They couldn't help but ask again and again:
"A single man did this? One man broke through your hundred-man cavalry, rescued Laban, killed your commander, and escaped?"
The temporary captain of this cavalry unit was slightly wounded, a bloody bandage wrapped around his ear. He hung his head in shame. "Yes... this man was a terror. He was no ordinary human..."
"Enough!" The guards thought they were just making excuses. "Save your stories for Governor Gennon and General Boscogn. Though I doubt they'll find them very useful."
The temporary captain's face went pale.
The guard looked at the other cavalrymen following behind. "These are the Black Iron Boar Lancers who followed your commander last night?"
"Y-yes," the temporary captain stammered.
Their captain and vice-captain had both been killed by that knight. He had been forced to take command, and with little experience, he was nervous even speaking.
"Move along." The guards waved them through. They squinted, struggling to stay awake after a night on watch. They were already thinking about where they would go to sleep once relieved.
And so the cavalry regiment, with its many wounded, crossed the drawbridge and entered the outer city of Doldrey.
The outer city was crowded with Tudor soldiers, most in heavy armor, noisy as a marketplace.
Nidhogg had blended in.
He had targeted this cavalry regiment during the night.
The group had quarreled around their campfire, then split up. Some had escorted the body of the commander he had killed back to the city. Others had vanished into the night.
Nidhogg hadn't missed his chance. During their argument, he had seized the moment, silently killed one of the most isolated Tudor cavalrymen, and stripped off his armor.
He had also taken a bandage, wrapped it around the upper part of his face to appear wounded, and then "returned to his position." No one had noticed.
After that, he had simply followed the cavalry as they rode back to the city.
In the darkness, with everyone in chaos, desperate only to get back to the city and end this nightmare, no one had noticed that one cavalryman had been replaced.
Nidhogg had seized the opportunity. He was finally inside Doldrey.
Just as he was following the cavalry, thinking about how to slip away unnoticed, he heard a loud shout from ahead.
"Halt!"
The cavalry stopped, looking somewhat dejected.
The temporary captain, seeing who had shouted, nervously dropped to his knees. Everyone quickly followed suit.
The temporary captain asked, "Captain Adam, do you have business with us?"
Nidhogg looked up and saw a tall knight in a grotesque whale-shaped helmet. He was heavily armored and slowly stepped forward.
This was Adam, the leader who had attacked the knights in the super-heavy armor of the Green Tiger Rampaging Knights?
Beside Adam stood another figure—a knight in a fish-shaped lantern helmet, even taller than Adam, like a humanoid chariot.
This was Adam's younger brother, Samson, the vice-commander of the Green Tiger Rampaging Knights.
Adam walked over, his younger brother Samson following silently behind.
"Is this... the Black Boar commander's body?" Adam asked. Receiving confirmation, he lifted his helmet and laughed heartily. "So you've finally met your end, have you? Always trying to steal my credit, hahahaha..."
"I shot Laban myself. He must be dead by now. That credit is mine too. You Black Boars were always greedy, but unfortunately, you couldn't take it from me. And now you've faced your judgment, hahahaha..."
Only then did the Black Iron Boar Lancers realize Adam had come to mock them. They exchanged glances, not daring to show anger, not daring to speak, and certainly not daring to leave. They could only stand there and let Adam laugh at them.