Seeing the soldiers looking so energized, Frieren couldn't help but wonder, Isn't distributing spoils of war natural and right?
Ah, right.
Long lifespans were common in the Lands Between, yet the world was dilapidated. The upper class didn't emphasize rewarding common soldiers. Why bother when you're so cheap and durable?
Rather than rewarding them in hopes of sparking a tiny bit more combat effectiveness, it was better to minimize costs.
It was understandable, but certainly harsh for the exploited rank-and-file troops. However, Frieren brought her real-world experience to the Lands Between: if soldiers fight, they should naturally be rewarded.
After tidying up, the group continued forward.
There was no time to clean up the battlefield; that would be left to the support forces. The urgent task now was to reach Castle Morne as quickly as possible.
Along the way, they cleared out every Misbegotten within sight.
Advancing with overwhelming force, they crushed any monster that dared attack, regardless of number. See them, eliminate them. Cumulatively, they killed hundreds, and according to Irina, the total number of rioting Misbegotten was less than a thousand.
Army at the city gates.
The moment they arrived, Frieren sensed a stench of blood and rot. The castle gate stood open, wind sweeping through, carrying the sounds of flames and slaughter.
Castle Morne had officially fallen. Through the iron gate bars, countless Misbegotten were clearly visible, engaged in a killing spree, frantically gnawing on lifeless bodies. Then, they turned their heads, looking at the visitors, utterly surprised anyone else would dare approach.
Good, very good. The more food, the better. With this thought, they threw back their heads and laughed, even dismembering corpses for entertainment, waving severed limbs about.
It was a ghastly sight. Even Irina, unable to see, trembled and clung to Frieren. The roaring sounds were filled with resentment – the sorrowful wails of the souls of slain humans.
"...Is my home gone?"
"Don't worry. We'll take it back right now—annihilate the enemy!"
Frieren raised her staff high. A Glintstone Arc spanning tens of meters swept forward, unstoppable. Any Misbegotten it touched was instantly severed. The fan-shaped spread of blue energy cut through all obstacles.
The previously rampant Misbegotten didn't even have time to react before being cut in half at the waist.
Thump!
As their upper bodies fell to the ground, they still looked dazed, disbelieving, before screaming in pain and quickly expiring from exhaustion.
The cutting edge of the Glintstone Arc continued, sharp enough to even leave marks on the castle walls, making one wonder if it could slice off a large chunk of the gate itself.
Actually, Frieren struck out in anger.
Even elves get angry sometimes. These Misbegotten's actions were no less atrocious than the Demon race's, and they were even more stupid and impossible to communicate with. They had to be thoroughly eradicated, also for the sake of capturing Castle Morne.
She dismounted, holding Irina with one hand while suppressing the enemy with magic firepower in the other.
Less suppression, more annihilation, as the mere Misbegotten were no match for a single blow. The Glintstone Arc swept through, killing every enemy in sight.
Even those in hiding weren't spared.
With her magic sense fully active, Frieren covered the central gate area. Any enemy presence detected was met with a precision shot of Glintstone Pebble.
Within moments, countless monsters were dismembered or blasted to pulp. A rain of blood dyed the surroundings. This time, Misbegotten corpses dotted the battlefield; not a single whole one remained in sight.
The noble soldiers, poised to strike, exchanged glances.
Three hundred men had just formed ranks, ready to charge, only for the enemy to utterly collapse in the blink of an eye.
They watched as the Spirit Ash legion followed the silver-haired girl's steps, searching through nooks and crannies, already in the mop-up phase.
Initially, they lacked understanding of the name "Funeral Spellblade," only knowing the area around Fort Haight was scorched earth. Now they understood Frieren possessed supreme battlefield dominance, utterly invincible.
ROAR!
Suddenly, a winged Misbegotten holding a greatblade leaped down from above, aiming straight for Frieren.
However, the next moment, her staff extended into a massive Carian Greatsword-like blade of magic, reaching higher than the castle walls, piercing straight through the target in mid-air. More accurately, it was annihilated; not even bone fragments remained.
The entire Castle Morne battlefield witnessed that astonishing magical pressure.
The battle-hardened sorceress displayed the profound depth gained across several worlds – an unfathomable magical resonance.
Dominating all directions.
A gust of wind spread out from her.
The previously active Misbegotten became silent out of fear, some even covering their heads, afraid to move. As lesser beings, they could perceive the absolute terror; this magic contained the souls of countless vanquished foes, compelling submission.
Edgar, resting in the highest tower of the castle, scrambled to his feet, sweat pouring like rain, his entire body trembling.
The unmistakable bearing of a true monarch! Impossible to mistake – a leader forged in hardship, steadfast and unyielding, integrated into that unique magic.
And it was an unfamiliar face, definitely not Godrick.
"Reinforcements?"
He instantly breathed a sigh of relief. After holding out for so long, a ray of hope finally arrived. His personal guard cheered joyfully, firing a signal flare in response, confirming each other's positions.
"Commander Edgar, we're saved! We've defended Castle Morne!"
"Unfortunately, the Grafted Blade Greatsword fell into the hands of the Leonine Misbegotten. Moreover, I have caused such great losses and lost my honor. If I am fortunate enough to survive, I must atone for my failure." Hearing this, the men couldn't help but lower their heads.
Who didn't understand that if Stormveil Castle had sent reinforcements earlier, even just dispatching the bridge garrison, things might have been better?
But the result was the fortress nearly falling. They felt indignant for their commander, hoping the reinforcement leader would judge wisely and not impose too harsh a punishment.
Edgar announced loudly, "The battle continues! Let's rendezvous with the reinforcements!"
Morale soaring, the group charged down from the tower. This time, they weren't besieged but were breaking through the enemy all at once. Coincidentally, the Misbegotten were in disarray under Frieren's pressure, easily offering their heads to be killed.
Battle cries from above echoed into the distance.
The contingent of three hundred soldiers, having broken through to the Castle Morne courtyard, observed their allies through a spyglass. Their own advance was even smoother, pushing forward easily under the cover of top-tier battlefield magic.
"Oh? Edgar is still alive? He won't be easy to persuade," the captain stated, not hiding his disappointment.
"I can arrange a heroic sacrifice, allowing other nobles to take his place."
The Black Knife Assassin offered her professional assessment. With just a word from Frieren, she could manufacture an accident, allowing the nobles, who valued inheritance laws, to save face. Everyone's happy.
The Undead Legion remained silent, wiping their greatswords while gazing towards the castellan's direction. He was a skilled Banished Knight.
Everyone's a villain?
Sensing the uncomfortable atmosphere, Irina looked flustered and quickly explained, "I will persuade Father! He will understand that Lady Frieren possesses superior qualifications for kingship. What do you think? Please give me more time."
All eyes turned to the decision-maker, but the silver-haired girl seemed to be communicating with someone unseen – that special spectral Maiden.
Frieren was focused on something else.
Melina materialized and pointed remotely towards the coastline at the end of the castle walls.
"It's the signature of the Frenzied Flame. It hasn't given up. It's merging with a large Misbegotten."
____
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