Spitzenberg has functioned as a city for quite a long time.
However, for an even longer period, Spitzenberg existed more as a fortress to ward off external enemies rather than a city.
In the era before the northern region was incorporated into the empire’s domain after the fall of the ancient dwarven empire and during the time when the Eastern Kingdom, the predecessor of the empire, was establishing itself in the midst of chaos people already lived beyond the mountain ranges and in the northern permafrost.
These were barbarians who constantly raided and occasionally invaded the Eastern Kingdom.
There was a time when those barbarians united and surged southward.
The church referred to that era as the Time of the Great Pillage.
Countless barbarians banded together to plunder both the Eastern and Western Kingdoms, even setting their sights on the lands of the Latium people in the south.
“They worshipped wicked, shamanic idols, unaware that they were remnants of the devil.”
Brother Marcus had said this, but to Keldric, it seemed more likely that they were revering ancestral spirits or shamanistic entities.
Then, as now, the church did not hesitate to denounce the gods worshipped by other religions.
To the church, the deities of other faiths were not gods but demons, and those who followed them were doomed to hell.
“Once, during its time as a fortress, Spitzenberg also suffered an attack from such barbarians.”
“I know. My ancestor repelled them.”
The Baron of Spitzenberg gave a dignified nod.
His was a family with a long history of defending Spitzenberg, and he seemed to take great pride in that legacy.
“The barbarians attacked Spitzenberg for days and nights. However, the fortress did not fall.”
The northern barbarians tried every possible means to bring down the fortress of Spitzenberg.
With the primitive siege weapons of the time, they attempted to breach the walls, while others recklessly climbed up with ladders or sought alternative routes leading into Spitzenberg.
“This next part, my lord, you may not be aware of.”
“And what would that be?”
“Spitzenberg came close to being captured once.”
It was through the last method the ‘alternative route to Spitzenberg.’
Spitzenberg, at its core, was a city built upon an ancient dwarven fortress, with new additions made over time.
While the walled space limited large-scale construction, demolishing old buildings and erecting new ones was always an option.
However, not even the Baron’s family, who had ruled Spitzenberg for generations, knew every passage or function hidden within the city.
The barbarians had discovered a secret tunnel leading up to Spitzenberg from a valley beneath the mountain peaks.
“They found a cave in the valley, which, by sheer coincidence, turned out to be an old passage dug by ancient dwarves leading into the city.”
“Such a thing…! How could I not have known about this? A threat to my city, right under my nose!”
“Because that passage was already sealed off.”
When the barbarians attempted to infiltrate through the ancient dwarven tunnel, the soldiers of Spitzenberg belatedly realized the danger and scrambled to block it.
But collapsing the tunnel was no simple task.
It was a matter of technological limitations.
How could they possibly bring down a spiral passage that wound its way up from the valley floor?
It would take ages just to carve through it with pickaxes, and sealing the entrance was nearly impossible since the barbarians were already swarming outside the city walls.
As they struggled to find a solution, an unexpected force came to Spitzenberg’s aid nature itself.
“When it rains, the valley swells, and water fills the tunnel.”
“Then…”
“The passage was rendered useless in an instant.”
Spitzenberg had functioned as a city for quite some time.
However, for an even longer period, Spitzenberg had existed more as a fortress to fend off invaders than as a city.
In the era before the northern region was incorporated into the empire’s domain after the ancient Dwarven empire had fallen and during the turbulent times when the Eastern Kingdom, the precursor to the empire, was establishing itself there were still people living beyond the mountains and in the northern permafrost.
These were barbarians who constantly raided the Eastern Kingdom and occasionally attempted full-scale invasions.
There was a time when these barbarians united and surged southward.
The Church called this period The Great Pillaging.
It was a grim time when countless barbarians banded together to plunder both the Eastern and Western Kingdoms, even setting their sights on the lands of the Latium people far to the south.
“They worshiped evil, shamanistic idols. Unaware that they were remnants of the Devil himself.”
That was what Brother Marcus claimed, but to Keldric, it seemed more likely that they had revered ancestral spirits or shamanistic entities.
In the past, as in the present, the Church had never hesitated to denounce the gods worshiped by other religions.
Any deity not of the Church was considered a demon, and those who believed in such false gods were condemned to hell.
“At one time, when Spitzenberg was still a fortress, it too suffered an attack from these barbarians.”
“I know. My ancestors defended it.”
The Baron of Spitzenberg nodded solemnly. His family had protected Spitzenberg for generations, and he took great pride in that legacy.
“For days and nights, the barbarians assaulted Spitzenberg. But the fortress never fell.”
The northern barbarians tried every means to breach the Spitzenberg stronghold.
Some used what were primitive siege engines by today’s standards, while others simply propped ladders against the walls and climbed with brute force. Some even sought out hidden paths leading into the fortress.
“This part of the story, Spitzenberg Baron, you may not yet know.”
“And what would that be?”
“ Spitzenberg was nearly overrun.”
The final method the ‘hidden path to Spitzenberg’ had almost led to its downfall.
Spitzenberg was, at its core, a fortress built by ancient Dwarves, with additional structures added over time to expand the city.
Within the confines of the fortress walls, large-scale construction was limited, but tearing down old buildings to replace them with new ones was always an option.
However, not even the ruling Baron’s family knew every passage or function within Spitzenberg.
It was in this obscurity that the barbarians discovered a secret tunnel leading up from a ravine at the mountain’s base.
They had stumbled upon an ancient Dwarven passage.
“In the ravine below, they found a cave. By pure chance, it turned out to be a tunnel that the ancient Dwarves had carved into the city.”
“What…?! How could I not have known? That tunnel could have been a threat to my city!”
“Because the tunnel had already been sealed.”
When the barbarians attempted to use the ancient Dwarven passage to infiltrate Spitzenberg, the city’s defenders belatedly realized the danger and scrambled to block it.
However, sealing the tunnel proved to be a challenge.
The technology of the time simply wasn’t sufficient to collapse a spiraling tunnel that wound its way up from the ravine.
Digging through the stone with pickaxes would have taken years, and sealing the entrance was impossible the barbarians had already surrounded the outer walls.
Just when it seemed hopeless, fate unexpectedly came to Spitzenberg’s aid.
“When it rained, the ravine flooded, and water filled the tunnel.”
“Then…”
“The passage was rendered useless in an instant.”
There was no way the barbarians could have known what even past generations of Spitzenberg’s rulers did not.
Trapped inside the tunnel, they were all drowned en masse.
As the water receded, their corpses clogged the passage, permanently cutting off any further infiltration.
Spitzenberg did not fall.
“No problem, then. Spitzenberg is an impregnable fortress.”
“The problem was the evil, shamanistic idol they worshiped.”
The Baron of Spitzenberg, who had been basking in his family’s achievements, fell silent.
Even if they were heathens, it was only proper to bury the dead or at least grant them some form of funeral rite.
Otherwise, their souls would not find peace.
Though the Church believed that heathens’ souls were destined for hell regardless, leaving their unburied remains to fester in a sealed-off space was unsettling.
According to Brother Marcus, the idol the barbarians worshiped fed on their souls in exchange for infernal power.
This, he claimed, was the origin of the legend of the monstrous wolf that had haunted Spitzenberg for generations.
“That passageway… where is its entrance?”
“Beneath the Church. Behind the very door we examined earlier, Sir Keldric.”
Tales of unburied corpses resting beneath churches and monasteries were common enough.
But if the rumors were based on real events and worse, if the bodies belonged to heathen barbarians it was a serious matter.
People’s first fear would be the restless spirits of these unburied heretics.
Their second fear would be the possibility that, deep underground, some demon or shamanistic entity had descended into their midst.
So, the Church had sealed the passage with utmost care.
They had sprinkled holy water and salt, hung crosses, and performed various religious rites to ensure it remained undisturbed.
Furthermore, all records concerning the evil lurking beneath Spitzenberg were erased including any mention of the barbarian idol.
“How do you know all this, Brother Marcus?”
“The Lichten Monastery was granted special permission to keep records on the darkness lurking beneath Spitzenberg.”
“Why only the Lichten Monastery…?”
“Because even if everyone else forgets, there must always be those prepared to fight.”
That was the very reason the Lichten Monastery was founded.
If the secret of Spitzenberg’s underground was erased from history, at the very least, it could not be exploited.
But in a world where nothing was truly absolute, someone still had to be ready in case the Church’s precautions failed.
Brother Marcus turned to the Baron of Spitzenberg, his gaze firm and resolute.
“Baron, I implore you. The evil lurking beyond that door must be eradicated.”
“Then ughh…”
The Baron let out a low groan. Brother Marcus’ words made sense undeniably so.
His reasoning was solid. The intent behind his request was noble.
And yet…
“That werewolf… No, that so-called shamanistic idol… you’re saying it’s inside that passage?”
“To be precise, it has likely possessed someone.”
“That damnable, accursed bastard! That thing has already killed eight of my people!”
The Baron’s fury was justified.
At first, he had felt a mixture of fear and concern upon hearing Brother Marcus’ tale.
But upon reflecting on it, all he felt now was rage.
“If that idol possessed someone, it must have happened after they entered the passage, correct?”
“Well… yes.”
“That goddamned devil-spawn! I swear, I will hunt that fiend down no matter what!”
A solemn vow to hunt the monster that had borrowed the power of demons.
To Keldric, it sounded far less than promising.
‘Why do I have the feeling I’ll be the one doing all the work?’
Baron Spitzenberg would surely provide a proper reward. With things having become this complicated, it no longer made sense for this to be just a matter of siding with Count Bogenberg’s faction.
However, putting out the immediate fire came first, so Keldric refrained from making any tactless remarks about suddenly revising the terms of the contract.
“Sir Keldric! Lead my soldiers and rid us of that fiend!”
“Of course. I will do my best.”
He didn’t give an absolute confirmation. If he confidently said he’d handle it but ended up letting the creature escape again, it would be the ultimate humiliation.
As Baron Spitzenberg’s fury gradually subsided, Priest Markus quietly spoke up.
“So then, Lord Spitzenberg, I have a suggestion for you.”
“Haa… very well, let’s hear it.”
“Rather than recklessly entering through the door, how about waiting for the creature to come out?”
Markus argued that opening the door and stepping inside might lead to them being bewitched by the demon.
Keldric found it hard to agree with such a notion, but in a world where magic and monsters existed, he supposed demons could be real too.
“Very well. We’ll wait for it to come out.”
With that, and Baron Spitzenberg’s assurance that he would spare no support, their makeshift meeting came to an end.
A new approach to capturing the monster had begun to take shape.
From that day on, Keldric made every preparation to join the hunt at any moment, but the creature refused to appear.
Even after he visited a dwarven craftsman and received a perfectly restored chainmail, even after draping himself in a fine wolf-fur cloak, perfectly equipped for battle still, there was no sign of the monster.
“Could it have already died?”
Its jaw had been utterly shattered by Keldric’s mace. If it couldn’t eat and couldn’t regenerate, perhaps it had simply starved or bled to death.
Alyssa’s words made sense. But there was no certainty.
And certainty was exactly what Keldric needed. He needed the assurance that he had truly slain the creature, or, if it had died, that he could at least find its corpse.
Then, three nights after they had decided to wait, Keldric finally received the news he had been longing for.
“The monster has appeared! The soldiers have it tied up behind the church!”
“I’m on my way!”
The monster wasn’t invincible. No matter how extraordinary its regenerative abilities were, it needed to consume something in order to heal and move.
That was why it had reappeared so late it was no different from a beast descending from the mountains in search of prey.
Keldric grabbed Alyssa, who was already awake, and mounted Aveline.
Arno and Helga were in no condition to run there on foot, so they each climbed onto Keldric and Alyssa’s horses.
“Aveline! Run faster!”
The jet-black horse streaked through the midnight streets of Spitzenberg like a bolt of lightning.
The fierce wind lashed at Keldric’s ears. Arno, seated in front of him, was already struggling to stay conscious.
As he drove Aveline forward at full speed, the church soon came into view.
“Alyssa! Prepare your magic immediately!”
Without waiting for a response, Keldric drew his longsword. Not the one he had used before, but a newly acquired meteoric iron longsword, it’s dark blade now unveiled to the world.
A commotion erupted in the church’s backyard.
The black-furred beast he had encountered before was rampaging like a bloodthirsty animal, throwing soldiers aside and tearing into them.
Keldric kicked off the ground and charged toward the creature. His meteoric iron longsword rose without a glint of light.
“Out of the way—!!”
With a thunderous voice, Keldric’s command startled the soldiers, making them step back. The very next moment, he lunged forward, thrusting his longsword at the monster, which hastily turned its head toward him.
Slash!
A chilling sound rang out. The corner of Keldric’s mouth twitched.
‘The blade works.’
That crisp sensation his sword slicing cleanly through the monster’s hide, the fat beneath, and the flesh it had concealed so well.
The creature let out a low growl and staggered back, its wrist half-severed.
Keldric held his stance, then closed the distance without hesitation. If the longsword could wound it, then there was nothing to fear.
For the monster, only a gruesome fate remained. Baron Spitzenberg would no doubt rejoice, holding up the creature’s head in triumph.
Yes, this was a hunt, through and through.