FL - Chapter 75: The Reaping

Silence settled over the canyon after the explosions.

Then broken cries rose from the ruins.

"Save me..."

"My legs!"

"Stay away from the black mist!"

The terrified voices drifted through the smoke.

The air reeked of charred flesh, blood, sulfur, and decay.

Some knights had armor melted into their bodies. Unable to scream, they coughed foam and blood.

Others crawled with half their bodies burned and the other half frostbitten. Skin peeled away to expose muscle and bone.

A war wolf lay with half its body destroyed and its entrails trailing through the snow. Its legs still twitched, searching for a master already burned away.

The valley had become hell.

Every detail was the product of Louis's intelligence and careful planning.

Bond stared down from the high ground, his throat tight and mind blank.

He had fought in many wars and seen battlefields piled with corpses. He had witnessed more powerful Mana Blast Bombs explode.

But he had never seen them combined with traps so precisely and efficiently that almost no one survived.

"Is this hell?"

This wasn't merely an explosion. It was a planned execution, with every corpse's resting place decided before the battle began.

Bond turned toward its architect.

Louis stood calmly beside him, studying the valley with faint amusement.

"What is this?" Bond asked.

"Mana Blast Bombs."

Louis's tone was light. "I call it Frost & Flame."

Bond swallowed. "An impressive Frost & Flame."

His gaze remained fixed on the burning earth below.

This mild-looking young noble was terrifying.

Jon stood rooted in place as well, unable to accept the sight.

Eight hundred Snowsworn elites had become charred bones and scattered flesh within minutes.

"This is insane..."

Cold sweat ran down his back.

Behind his shock rose overwhelming gratitude.

*Thank goodness I followed Louis.*

Jon remembered the reports from Snowhawk City—the mountains of corpses, heads hanging from the walls, and countless screams.

He hadn't witnessed the city himself, but the stories had already given him nightmares.

Without Louis, and without his own instinctive decision to follow him to Clearfeather Ridge, Jon would have become another corpse in the city.

He stared at Louis's back, resolve hardening in his heart.

*I'll spend my life repaying Boss's kindness.*

He would never let go of Louis's support.

The surrounding knights and soldiers were also silent. The way they looked at Louis had changed forever.

It was no longer simple obedience or ordinary respect.

It was absolute awe, born from witnessing a miracle.

When the poison thinned, Louis stood at the valley entrance and looked over the ruined snowfield.

"Put on your protective leather masks and clear the battlefield. Watch for poison and survivors."

"Yes, my lord!"

The Crimson Tide Knights donned masks sewn from beast hide and medicinal herbs.

They spread out with long-handled weapons and entered the valley in formation.

Explosions had cratered the ground. Charcoal and clotted blood formed a layer of black sludge beneath their boots.

The cleanup proceeded efficiently.

Once renowned for mobility and coordination, the eight hundred Snowsworn were now panicked survivors fleeing without direction.

Fewer than one hundred could still stand. Every one was exhausted and broken in spirit.

Some tried to fight.

A handful gathered, raised their blades, and staggered toward the Crimson Tide line.

"Charge!"

"For the Oath—"

Lances pierced their throats before the cries ended.

Without command or resolve, their disorganized attacks shattered against the Crimson Tide formation.

"I surrender!"

"Please..."

No one answered their pleas.

The Crimson Tide Knights advanced methodically and eliminated every remaining threat.

Many enemies had been driven mad by the explosions. They sat curled on the ground, muttering with vacant eyes.

The knights gave them no mercy. A single stroke ended each life.

After a final charge, the battlefield fell silent.

Half an hour of killing ended when the last enemy collapsed.

"Cleanup complete!"

"Enemy force annihilated!"

Hoarse cheers erupted through the smoke. Soldiers raised their weapons.

"We won!"

"Long live Lord Calvin!"

They crowded around Louis with reverence blazing in their eyes.

They had expected a suicide mission: eight hundred Snowsworn elites against two hundred defenders.

Even fighting to the death hadn't seemed enough to hold the pass.

Instead, the desperate battle ended with astonishing ease.

The enemy died so quickly that victory felt unreal.

But the wreckage and drifting poison proved the truth.

They had survived and won.

The young baron standing calmly above the valley had made it possible.

Louis Calvin.