Whispers of the Crypt

The Vale, Gulltown, nightfall was about to descend.

The largest square near the Gulltown docks had its bonfires lit earlier than usual.

A multitude of singers gathered here, joining their voices in a song with an unfamiliar melody. The scale of the chorus was unprecedented; the rippling song encompassed nearly the entire harbor area, and the crowd drawn by the music grew larger and larger.

Some began to ask for the name of the strange song, only to learn it was called Whispers of the Crypt, said to originate from Crackclaw Point across the southern strait.

As the night deepened, the crowd finally began to disperse, still lingering in the afterglow, though the melody seemed to continue drifting in their ears.

Suddenly, bursts of startled cries erupted from the crowd.

In the western part of Gulltown, a raging fire soared into the sky, illuminating half the heavens in a crimson glow.

The next day, everyone in Gulltown knew that the manor of the merchant Ursur Meka had caught fire, and not a single soul within the entire estate had survived.

Crackclaw Point, Crabb's Lands battlefield.

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

"Roar! Roar! Roar!"

Chanting their rhythmic slogans, the Wildlings, under the command of Dyre Den's House Brune, began to advance slowly toward Gryn's phalanx.

At a distance of 300 yards, Gryn raised his bow and nocked an arrow. With a sharp whistle, a knight tumbled from his horse.

Amparo spurred her mount, moving back and forth before the lines, shouting, "Hold! Hold! Wait for the order!"

Gryn loosed a second arrow, and another knight was smashed to the ground, swallowed by the advancing formation.

After Gryn struck down five knights in succession, the enemy knights dismounted, leading their horses as they merged into the infantry ranks.

At this moment, the two sides were just over 200 yards apart.

Gryn shot down the standard-bearer holding the House Brune flag, then nodded slightly toward Amparo.

"Retreat!"

"Retreat!"

"Retreat!"

Amparo executed the order. Led by the Crabb Clan Soldiers, the "troops" turned in unison, retreating toward the entrance of Crescent Valley.

The movement on Gryn's side immediately drew the enemy's attention, and they quickened their pace.

Everything was proceeding according to the plan Gryn had devised.

Just as Gryn prepared to spur his horse and join the "fleeing" ranks, a small accident occurred.

A figure as round as a meatball suddenly joined the battlefield. Bearing a round shield and brandishing a warhammer, he launched a running charge toward the army of House Brune and the Wildlings.

The enemy, seeing Gryn and his men fleeing, had broken their formation in their haste to pursue.

The charging meatball quickly collided with the fastest part of the enemy vanguard.

The meatball's bulky frame slammed into two men with his shield, and his raised warhammer smashed the head of the nearest Wildling.

The meatball did not stop; he swung his hammer again, ruthlessly cracking open the skull of another Wildling.

Contrary to his obese physique, the meatball was remarkably agile. His shield blocked every attack, and his warhammer effortlessly crushed one head after another.

The meatball seemed to possess the instincts of a beast. After killing several men in a row, he sensed something was wrong and, in the lull of the battle, glanced toward where Gryn had been.

Where were the people?

Why was there only one knight left?

I remember there being a huge crowd, did I misremember?

The meatball finally panicked a little; no matter how brave he was, he couldn't kill them all. He began to retreat with purpose.

Gryn tentatively judged the mysterious powerhouse who had suddenly charged into the battlefield to be a friend rather than a foe.

Gryn spurred his horse forward, firing rapidly while in motion, and the Wildlings near the mysterious powerhouse were struck down one by one.

Gryn locked onto a knight who was spurring his horse to accelerate toward the powerhouse, shot him from his saddle, and shouted, "Mount up!"

The powerhouse heard Gryn's voice, slammed into an enemy with his shield, and ran to the side of the riderless warhorse, leaping onto it with surprising agility for his size.

Gryn continued to fire, providing cover.

The powerhouse urged the warhorse forward, approaching Gryn, and said in a simple, honest tone, "Lord Gryn, your fame is widespread, I have long admired—uh, uh. I forgot my lines!"

"I heard the summons for the Crabb's Lands, and I hoped to serve you, but I am a bastard, so I dared not approach you directly."

"I found out about this battlefield, and I wanted to show my worth first to earn your favor!"

Is this a wild general voluntarily defecting?

Gryn spurred his horse to retreat, shouting, "Stranger, tell me your name!"

"Oh, oh, sorry, excuse me, my name is Mutton Waters."

As the warhorse galloped, Mutton Waters' belly, round as a giant watermelon, wobbled up and down like flowing water.

Gryn's lips curled upward: "Welcome, my warrior!"

Hearing Gryn's affirmative reply, Mutton Waters' honest voice actually carried a hint of a sob: "You are too kind, I sincerely thank you. I swear to fight for you forever—er, er, I forgot the lines again. I, I, I will try to eat a little less?!"

"My warrior, you shall have your fill. Eat to your heart's content!"

Mutton Waters turned his head to look at Gryn's profile and froze.

Coming back to his senses, Mutton Waters lifted his head slightly, a simple-minded smile blooming beneath his resolute gaze. The weather today was truly wonderful!

[Gryn's first adorable general, Mutton Waters, makes his debut]

Discovering more and more weapons and equipment discarded on the ground by the Crabb Soldiers, the Brune Family and the Wildlings clamored and cursed as they swarmed into Crescent Valley.

Once the enemy had fully entered Crescent Valley, they were met with fierce fires that suddenly erupted from both the front and the rear.

Surrounded by the merciless flames, screams and wails seemed ready to burst out of Crescent Valley.

Although Gryn had done his best to prepare, time had been insufficient, and coupled with the heavy rains from the previous days, the intensity of the fire was still affected.

Even so, more than 3,000 people remained in Crescent Valley forever.

The remaining enemies managed to charge out of the valley with great difficulty, but they had exhausted all their strength, and most became Gryn's captives.

Five days later, near Dyre Den.

What the hell!

Gryn, atop his warhorse, gazed at the Dyre Den that seemed to tower into the clouds, speechless for a long time.