Frostnova followed Patriot through the forest, keeping close to him.
"Andrey?"
"Yes?"
"Did you cast your Arts? I saw no sign of them."
"They have no effect on these corrupted beasts, or whatever they are. The wolves are no longer acting of their own accord, and their minds are mere puppets. And my Arts only function effectively after a long wait, so I was only able to attack effectively once." Andrey replied. "These Arts are best suited towards targeting individual leaders, rather than large groups."
"Any specialized Arts are worthless against these wolves," Frostnova noted. "Brute force and Patriot's Arts appear to be the only solution."
"They're effective enough."
"Not against swarms."
"Those seem unlikely," Andrey countered.
"We know nothing. Anything is possible, so we must prepare for everything."
"Fair enough." As they walked, Patriot simply pushed forwards through the brambles and shrubs with his shield, leaving flattened grass and plants in his wake. Frostnova was thankful for that – it meant she wouldn't have to dodge branches every moment – but again, she was worried. They were too easily traceable, though she supposed the three-meter-tall Wendigo was easily traceable whatever they did.
Not to mention the cart behind them – which she quickly checked, making sure the mule was still following them.
The Guerillas fought differently compared to the Yetis; brute force and tactics rather than stealth and ambushes, relying on a strength matching the Army to win battles. She wasn't particularly fond of that strategy, but it worked, despite the casualties.
Again, Andrey probed the environment around them as they moved. The wolves felt different than humans and uncorrupted animals, though nothing of the sort was present at the moment.
The forest was strangely beautiful, just a sea of gray-black, spots of white where the snow was showing. It was almost like an ink painting, in a sense, exuding a cold, deadly beauty. And just like a painting, it was almost too clean, too simple. Yet it still felt alive – there were no signs of rot or death around them, just cold snow and blackened trees.
It was the corruption, Andrey reminded himself. And corruption was in no way beautiful, except perhaps as a sadistic, taunting beauty.
Hours passed as they walked forwards, just keeping watch.
It was almost night when Andrey sent out his twentieth probing wave of Arts – surprised for a moment when he found a group of Ursine troops, moving their way. That surprise soon gave way to caution, as he reported it to Frostnova. "At least ten Ursine troops, following tracks."
Probing again, he found four particularly Arts-resistant members of the group. "Four Casters. Army standard would dictate one or less, for a group of this size."
"Four. Perhaps to use Arts to flush out the corruption?" Frostnova guessed, relaying the information to Patriot. "Ten Ursine following our tracks, four Casters."
"Likely."
None of them were expecting Patriot to simply keep walking forwards. "Information, from Andrey? I will, believe it, when I, see it."
"H-" Frostnova stopped midway through protesting. No amount of protest would cause Patriot to change his mind, as she had found out in the past. Nonetheless, she turned backwards, towards where Patriot had flattened the darkened snow and grass as they had passed.
"I'll try and use my Arts to spy on them," Andrey said – and then he was gone.
Activating his Arts, Andrey felt a brief stretch, almost as if his mind was being extended and split – before he saw through an Ursine soldier's eyes. Feeling around for a moment, he confirmed his suspicions; all he could sense was a blurry view and muffled sound. Mind Arts were heavily limited, even in the best of cases.
"Sir, what do you think this is?" The soldier turned to his leader – a tall, muscular bearded man, wearing an Ursus Army uniform, wand at the ready. Main Army, Andrey realized with a shock – far more deadly than the Suppressor troops they had fought, well-organized and even better trained and equipped.
"Likely some corrupted beast. We'll eliminate it and continue our patrol." The leader pointed to the tracks. "Or perhaps some Sarkaz. These tracks are far too wide and deep for standard Sami or Ursus troops. They're dangerous, if they've gone so far into these forests."
The troops raised their weapons. Quickly, Andrey counted them – four swordsmen, four crossbowmen, four Casters. A dozen in total, closing in. Andrey cut off his Arts and returned to Frostnova. He had enough information; it was time to report.
"A dozen in total. Four swordsmen, crossbowmen and Casters. Main Army." Frostnova noticeably balked at the end. Andrey had given her a quick crash course on the Ursus Army a few days prior; she had remembered it, it seemed.
"Border guard should be Suppressor divisions instead," Frostnova noted.
"Perhaps they view this area as too dangerous for Suppressor divisions. After all, the Suppressor Army groups barely have any Casters to fight this corruption."
"Standard Casters are likely also worthless against this," Frostnova added. "Hm… we cannot kill them."
"Why not?"
"They'll trace their bodies down after they find them missing. And we cannot confront fifty Army troops."
They had no time to continue conversing, however, as the Army troops soon found them, weapons raised – before they soon lowered them at the sight of Patriot.
"A Cautus…" their leader started, before turning to see Patriot, halberd raised and ready. "And a Wendigo? I haven't even heard of your kind in years."
Quickly, Andrey checked the badge on his uniform. Army lieutenant. Often capable of wielding Arts, and difficult to fight. He was confident Patriot or Frostnova could kill him, but it was risky.
"Sir, are they allied?" Another soldier asked.
"Potentially. Sir, how long have you been fighting?"
"Centuries," Patriot simply said. "This girl, is important. Further information, classified."
"Classified." The leader repeated for a moment, almost as if mulling it over. Nodding, he turned to his troops, gesturing back for a moment – and for a moment, Frostnova almost relaxed.
"Explain, then, why this girl is Infected?"
Almost immediately, the soldiers fanned out, forming a near-perfect circle around Patriot and Frostnova – weapons unsheathed and held in their hands.
"Attack? I may be able to subdue their leader," Andrey said.
"We attack when Patriot does. Their bodies are too easy to track down if we kill them."
"Understood."
"Complex Arts, held within body. Wendigos, must study." Patriot said, halberd raised and pointed towards the lieutenant. "Let us pass."
"Not possible. You are Patriot, yes? The rebel Wendigo, last pure-blood? You are too powerful, yet your armor is ancient. No Army Wendigo would-"
The lieutenant would never get the chance to finish his sentence, Patriot's thrown halberd impaling him against a nearby tree, killing him. The soldiers jumped into action, crossbows and wands raised; and firing, moments later.
The halberd flew back into his hands, and Patriot raised his shield to block the Arts and bolts. Projectile after projectile struck his shield and armor, metal flaking off but the ancient equipment holding.
A critical mistake – Frostnova now had free reign over the battlefield.
She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the familiar numb bite of the Arts surrounding her – and unchaining it. A wave of freezing Arts rushed out, and she smiled in grim satisfaction as she saw the soldiers fall to their knees – Patriot rushing forwards and executing them blow by blow as they were crippled by the ice chaining them down.
A soldier raised his crossbow, pointing it towards Frostnova – before falling like a lifeless puppet just moments later.
"Got him," Andrey said.
"Good job." Noticing some of the soldiers slowly struggling free, Frostnova fired off another burst of Arts, locking them down to the ground.
"Filthy Infected! Even if we do not kill you, the forest will!" A soldier shouted, rushing forwards at Frostnova, sword swinging wildly. Frostnova turned, jabbing her wand into his stomach – sending him keeling back. A blast of Arts, and he was frozen to the ground again. Behind her, Patriot was finishing off the other soldiers, seemingly unstoppable as he walked forwards.
"Will it?" Raising a pillar of Arts, Frostnova watched as he weakly struck at the ice quickly consuming him. Forcing another wave of Arts through her body, the ice grew even colder, freezing the man – before he was left a frozen block of ice, eternally locked in the forest.
"That was cruel," Andrey commented, "and very inefficient."
"Mhm, but it was the first attack that came to mind." Frostnova felt her legs start to give way, post-Arts fatigue kicking in. Stubbornly, she held on, taking a few staggering steps forwards before regaining her balance. It would pass, in a few moments.
"Ice aura, new Arts." Patriot simply said, walking over. "Do not, use on, allies. I can, resist, but other troops, can not."
"Yes, Father." Frostnova nodded. She was well aware of how her Arts were often indiscriminate, killing both friend and foe every cast. But it was far more efficient to simply cast such a wave of Arts rather then pick off the Army soldiers one by one – and much safer.
"Burn bodies. Reduce risk." Patriot commanded, beginning to haul the bodies into a large pile. Frostnova doubted it would help, but anything could help.
While Patriot hauled the bodies, she instead began attempting to start a fire. With Andrey's help, she quickly found their cart and the accompanying mule, coaxing it back to where Patriot was.
Picking up some tinder and firewood, she walked over to the pile of bodies, sitting down cross-legged and beginning to try to make a fire. Infuriatingly enough, her Arts were running amok again after that skirmish, and the freezing winds building up around her made it hard to nourish even the brightest spark.
"Try standing further away," Andrey suggested. "And don't worry about attacks, I'm keeping watch."
That didn't help. The sparks still refused to grow into fires, and Frostnova eventually gave up – only to feel a slight heat on her back. Turning around, she found Patriot standing in front of the burning bonfire, smoke flying off into the sky.
"You, had difficulty, so I, started the fire, myself." Patriot said, and she swore it felt like the old man was laughing at her.
"Thank you, Father," she simply replied, before throwing her remaining tinder into the fire. It wouldn't do to leave any traces. The flammable wood scraps quickly burned, sending out a shower of sparks – a miniature fire growing in the grass, dancing in the wind.
Frostnova walked over and crushed it, before walking back to the cart.
"Keep moving." Patriot said, and they began walking forwards again, the forest parting in his wake. The bodies were left to burn, the short battle fading away in her mind; just one, of far too many.
AN: I keep forgetting that they have a cart. Feel free to leave reviews if you have anything to say, and thanks for the reviews so far!
To SagittiPottenta: You are right that the knowledge looks to be misleading. However, isekai'd characters wouldn't have information about the wolves in Ursus or the Army's organization, or any of the other fancy stuff Andrey knows. As for the romance, that probably isn't going to be a major point of focus until far later (if at all) – as you said, there's no foundation for a romance here. Thanks for reviewing!
To Patatas-Potato: Yep, the corruption takes control after the wolves' minds get killed. Good catch. Thanks for reviewing!