Overwhelming Firepower

The tavern that many of the original Thornefang members frequent had grown larger and was now larger than any other tavern.

The smell of ale, roasted meat, and smoke clung to the air, soaking into clothes and hair alike.

Benches scraped against the floor as people shifted, mugs clinked constantly, and someone near the back kept laughing a little too loudly for no clear reason.

It has now become the place to go if you want to hear stories from Thornefang members about their exploits.

It was just a few days away from the upcoming Styrhord, and many of the Thornefang members came to have a good drink and meal.

”Hey, Brina, another one!” Greg raised his mug, asking for more ale. Brina was carrying several other mugs and placed one down in front of Greg.

Brina flashed him a grin as sharp as a blade, setting the mug down with a solid thud.

”Careful,” she said. ”Drink too much, and you might miss the Styrhord. That’d be a shame, dying sober is bad luck.” Laughter rolled through the tavern.

Greg snorted as he gulped down the ale in the mug. ”If I do die, I’d rather not remember much of how it happened. So that when I wake up in the Varkun’s hall of heroes, it won’t hurt as much.”

Sarah let out a short laugh, already turning back to the counter. ”Good thinking. Varkun might think you’re not worthy if you show up whining about pain.” That earned another round of laughter.

Mark leaned back in his chair, boots hooked over the rung, mug balanced lazily in one hand. ”Well, when death does come, I’ll make sure the other guy comes with me.”

Liger, who took a big bite of the meat he was eating, started chewing as he spoke. ”Just one? Aim higher. If I’m going down, I’m dragging at least three with me. Any less and it’s a waste of effort.”

”That’s big talk for a greenhorn.” Renz joined the conversation.

”Well, that isn’t going to happen to me. I plan to stick around for a lot longer. The grand dream the leader promised to show us is finally taking shape. I want to be there to actually see it.” Harlik spoke after drinking more ale than the others.

”I don’t really care if this will be our end or not. I will just continue to prove my loyalty to everyone and to the leader who gave me a second chance.” Mark spoke while shrugging his shoulders.

”Still, if we do fall in this battle. I hope it will be heroic and glorious that the bards will sing of the day until the end of time.” Veronica spoke her opinion on the matter. ”I need to make sure that my name resounds in the entire kingdom, to fulfill Erwin’s dream as well,” Veronica murmured the second part of what she said to herself.

Milos, hands wrapped around his drink, raised his mug awkwardly. ”I’ll drink to that! If our story ends with this, then let it end with an epic worth remembering!”

”Are you sure about this? Don’t you have a sweetheart waiting for you back in your city?” Nick, the one sitting beside him, asked.

”... I’m not the only one who has people they’re leaving behind for this battle. I heard a few of the seniors have started families here in Ironhold, and didn’t Sir Brian’s wife recently give birth? Yet all of them plan to head into battle,” Milos replied.

Nick awkwardly scratched his head. ”Yeah, I apologize for asking such an idiotic question.”

Seeing the mood was slowly feeling weird, Renz spoke up louder than ever. ”Come on, let’s drink some more! Let’s drink and eat until our bellies are full, so we may fight with honor and glory! For Thornefang! For the leader!”

The second Renz shouted for Thornefang, the entire tavern, even those who weren’t part of Thornefang, raised their mugs and shouted.

”For Thornefang!”

”For the leader!”

”To the Dragon slayers!”

A few other chants joined in, but the mood returned to what it was before. Daniel, who was forced to join in, felt his head aching from all the noise. He just wanted to continue to sleep before the Styrhord. But Harlik came to his room and pulled him out.

’Well, I guess if I get lucky enough, I’ll be able to reach Velmira’s embrace in this battle.’

Thrall, who was sitting beside Daniel, did not bother to join the conversation as he continued to fill his belly with meat. This was normal for him, since before a great hunt that could end with death, one must do their utmost to be at their best during the hunt.

Bram, who was sitting in the corner of the tavern, ate and drank silently as he wondered if staying here to die with them would be the right choice for him.

Among the many places he had been to, Ironhold, despite its cold weather, felt the warmest to him.

’I guess dying for such a place isn’t too bad a deal.’ Bram’s lips curved up ever so slightly.

Brina watched the scene from behind the counter, wiping a mug that didn’t really need wiping.

In Ironhold, there were many who went to fight but never returned. So she knew that even these people who had been to many battles were trying their best to be louder and warmer. Like everyone was trying to burn the moment into themselves.

She slid another round down the counter without being asked. This was the only thing someone like her could do. Fill the bellies with great food and good ale.

It was like what Harlik told her before, this was the place that the members of Thornefang could return to. With smiles on their faces and epic stories to tell.

It’s not like Thornefang hasn’t lost people over the years. In fact, they had lost a few people to monsters and sometimes even to bandits.

Still, those were only a few despite how hard some of those missions were. Some only died because of a momentary mistake, a slip of footing, a misjudged strike.

Yet overall, Thornefang had a hundred percent success rate since its creation, showing how well trained and well armed they were.

But they all knew this upcoming battle was not something like the others. The laughter, the shouting, the clashing of mugs. None of it could fully drown the fear they’re feeling inside.

This wasn’t a hunt, or a skirmish, or a raid where skill and preparation tilted the scales just enough in their favor. This was something different; this was war. Armies, sieges, names that would be written into history, whether in ink or blood.

Somewhere beyond Ironhold’s walls, twenty thousand soldiers were gathering. Siege engines were being assembled.

Mercenaries sharpened their blades, and mages prepared spells meant to erase lives by the dozen.

The night pressed on, mugs were refilled without counting, and voices grew rougher from shouting over one another.

They simply drank, ate, and laughed to strengthen their resolve. As the laughter grew louder, Lucen arrived with Durik and a few dwarves.

”Leader! So you finally came! Come on, let’s drink!” One of the Thornefang members shouted.

”Hey, Durik, we haven’t finished our match. This time I’ll outdrink you.” Harlik spoke, lifting his mug.

”Sure you can, lad. Come on then, let’s see how many drinks we can drown ourselves in.” Durik responded while taking one of the mugs from a nearby table and drinking it down already.

Lucen, watching the scene inside the tavern, couldn’t help but smile warmly. This reminded him of the many scenes in anime and games he had seen. To see and experience such a sight in reality was quite the pleasure.

Cheers erupted around him as he was given a mug of ale. Lucen found a seat right beside Milos and started drinking.

”Hey, leader.” Milos quietly spoke to Lucen.

”Hm, what is it?”

”... If I die in this upcoming battle. Will you finish the book I’ve been writing?”

”A book?”

”Yeah... I know that I’m not as talented as you, but I wrote about you and Thornefang’s adventures.” Milos scratched his head, sounding a little embarrassed.

”I wrote about how you and the others met in the mountains. They were hired to capture, but in the end, you all helped each other and slayed a dragon. How Thornefang came to be. I asked everyone about their experiences and wrote them down.” Milos spoke a little excitedly.

”I wrote about how you saved us from those bandits. How Thornefang defeated the bloodhounds. How we survived the monster waves. I wrote about your victory in the Royal Academy Tournament. I wrote down how we saved people from monsters and bandits.”

It was at this moment that Milos paused for several seconds before speaking again.

”I’m unsure if I will be able to survive the upcoming battle, but I’m sure the leader would.”

”Why?... Why are you so sure I would survive?” Lucen couldn’t help but ask.

”Not just me, but everyone here believes that you will continue to survive, leader. You are someone who is meant to become a legend. There’s no way your story ends here. So please, if I do die, can you continue writing that story, and can you make my ending sound a little more heroic?”

Lucen stared at Milos for a long moment. The tavern was still loud around them, laughter, mugs slamming, Durik roaring as he challenged someone else to drink, but for a brief instant, it all felt distant. Like the world had narrowed down to just the two of them and the words that had been spoken.

Lucen felt his heart stirring a little. This was a rather emotional moment, but he could not help but think about how much those lines would have affected the players in his past life if they saw this kind of scene.

Lucen drank his ale and placed his mug down before answering. ”I don’t want to do that. You finish that book of yours, yourself. Don’t think of dying, there will be many more of our adventures that would need to be written in that book of yours. You need to see those things with your own eyes.”

Milos blinked several times, clearly caught off guard by the answer. He then smiled a little before speaking.

”Heh, as expected of your leader. Even in this situation, you truly believe that victory is ours to take.”

”... If you don’t even believe in your own victory, then it will never come to you. I know you guys are listening in, so listen well.”

The entire tavern suddenly turned quiet as all eyes were now on Lucen.

”I know that many of you think that this would be our final battle. That even with all the weapons, even with my Father by our side, victory against an army of Twenty Thousand, with many of them being aura users and mages seem impossible.”

Lucen looked at everyone looking at him with a confident smile on his face. ”But trust me. As long as you follow me, victory might not always be certain, but there will always be a chance to get it.”

Lucen then stood up from his chair. ”This battle will not be the end of us. There are still grander sights to see! So come on, Thornefang, let us show those who think this will be our end, that it is not!”

The entire tavern roared in cheers as they raised their mugs.

”To the ever-victorious!”

”To Lucen Thornehart!”

The tavern was once again energized by Lucen’s speech as they drank, ate, and a few started singing.

The fear most of them were feeling had gradually disappeared. After hearing what Lucen said there were once again reminded why they followed this young man.

As long as they follow Lucen to battle, no matter the circumstance, they feel like they will always find the way to victory.