The cold had intensified to a point where the simple act of breathing made lungs burn, but William walked through the castle corridors feeling strangely untouchable.
After dumping a staggering one hundred and sixty System credits purely into his Endurance attribute, his body had undergone an invisible metamorphosis. His bones felt forged from iron bars, his muscle fibers had densified, and the cold that previously made him shiver now felt like nothing more than a cool autumn breeze. He was, for all practical purposes, a walking cyborg.
He stopped in the main hall and spotted one of the young castle maids cleaning soot from the large fireplace.
— "Excuse me," — William called out, his voice sounding deep and controlled.
The girl jumped, dropping her cleaning cloth, and gave a hasty, clumsy bow, visibly intimidated by the stature of the noble who had killed mercenaries with his bare hands.
— "Y-Yes, my lord? What do you wish?" — she stammered, not daring to look directly into his eyes.
— "Go to the armory or look for Sir Carter Lannis," — instructed William calmly. — "Tell him that Commander William requires a tempered steel shield, the sturdiest kind the infantry possesses. Furthermore, find the thickest and firmest climbing rope we have in the storehouses and bring it all immediately to the stairs of the eastern sector of the wall. If you please." —
— "R-Right away, my lord!" — the girl nodded and ran off, her skirts rustling against the stone.
William cracked his neck, adjusting the leather belt over his padded doublet. He didn't intend to stay in the castle while the winter's first attack tested their defenses. He needed to know what awaited them. More importantly: he needed to test the limits of his own newly enhanced body.
When William climbed the wooden steps and stepped onto the cement walkway of Border Town's new wall, the wind hit him with full force. The scenery ahead was bleak; the forest at the foot of the Impassable Mountain Range was submerged in a dark, freezing mist. Along the parapet, dozens of patrolmen and militiamen were in position, gripping their pikes with trembling hands and their muskets still lowered.
At the central point of the eastern sector, as impenetrable as a stone pillar, stood Trevor. The bodyguard kept his eyes fixed on the forest, snow accumulating on his broad shoulders without him even blinking. Beside Trevor, three young militiamen tried to maintain a military posture, though the chattering of their teeth was audible.
William walked up to them. Out of pure instinct, he activated the System. The blue interface blinked, revealing small text boxes floating above the heads of the three unknown soldiers.
Status: Rick
Strength: 8
Speed: 7
...
Status: Saldon
Strength: 7
Speed: 9
...
Status: Zuler
Strength: 7
Speed: 7
...
William smiled internally. The System was an absurd tool for a commander. Interestingly, he had noticed earlier that this "status reading" ability had a serious flaw: it didn't work on witches. When he looked at Nightingale or Anna, the System screen only displayed static and illegible characters, as if their very magic interfered with the coding of his power. But for reading the attributes of ordinary men, it was infallible.
— "Trevor," — William greeted, stopping beside his right-hand man. Then, he looked directly at the three frightened militiamen and nodded solemnly. — "Rick. Saldon. Zuler. How is your line of sight in the blizzard? Are your hands steady enough to wield those spears?" —
The three men almost dropped their weapons in pure shock. Their eyes widened, and their fear of the demonic miasma was momentarily crushed by absolute disbelief.
— "Does... D-does the Co-commander know our names?" — Rick muttered, his voice cracking, looking at Saldon for confirmation.
— "He remembered me... I'm just a miner from the southern sector..." — Zuler whispered, his chest puffing out instinctively, his chin rising.
To men who were treated as numbers and cannon fodder by the old nobles of Border Town and Fortress Longsong, having a warrior Lord — the very man who walked side-by-side with the Prince — call them by their names with such respect was something that ignited an indescribable fire of loyalty in their souls. They didn't feel as cold anymore. They gripped their weapon shafts with renewed strength.
— "Our line of sight is clear to the edge of the forest, Lord William!" — Saldon answered firmly, saluting. — "We will not retreat a single inch!" —
— "Excellent," — William replied, maintaining his untouchable protagonist aura.
At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed up the wooden stairs. The maid arrived, panting, carrying a huge, heavy coil of naval hemp rope and a gleaming steel shield in the shape of an inverted asymmetrical teardrop, forged to withstand blows from battle axes.
William took the equipment. The shield was heavy for a normal man, but in his hands, it felt as light as a pot lid.
Before Trevor could question what the shield and rope were for, the sound of a warning horn blew in the distance, from the main watchtower. The sound was followed by howls. They were not the normal howls of wild wolves seeking shelter. They were hoarse, distorted sounds, laden with a demonic aggression that chilled the blood.
— "Here they come!" — shouted Rick, pointing with his spear.
From the shadows of the forest at the edge of the snow, shapes began to emerge. They were demonic beasts. The first group of scouts from the winter horde was not composed of giant beasts or mutant turtles, but of something faster and equally lethal: gray foxes. However, their size was pure aberration; each fox was the size of a fully grown earthlings wolf, with bristling fur that looked like steel needles and eyes glowing with a sickly blood-red hue. Dark slime dripped from their fangs — the infamous black blood corrupted by the miasma.
The militiamen swallowed hard. Van'er and his team further down began to ready their weapons, the bows scraping in unison.
— "Attention shooters! Aim at..." — Trevor began to shout his orders.
— "Hold!" — William's voice cut through the air like thunder, imposing silence. — "Shooters, hold your arrows! Spearmen, hold your positions on the wall. Don't waste arrows on these first ones. They are mine." —
Without wasting a second, William tossed one end of the thick rope to Trevor and began tying the other end tightly around his own waist.
Trevor looked at the rope in his hands and then at the Lord, confusion and worry stamped on his scarred face.
— "My lord? What exactly do you think you are doing?" — Trevor took a step forward, grabbing the edge of the shield. — "You can't go down there! It's suicide! If you want to fight on the ground, I'll go down with you. I am your shield, remember my oath?" —
— "And you are honoring that oath just by being here, Trevor." — William pulled the final knot tight at his waist and faced his bodyguard with a tense but determined smile. — "But I am not going down there to die. I need to test my real physical capabilities before much worse monsters appear in the coming weeks. If I don't know how much my own body can handle, I won't be useful as a vanguard. Your only mission right now is to plant your feet on this concrete and ensure this rope doesn't break or slip. Do you trust me?" —
Trevor hesitated, but the authority in William's gaze was unquestionable. With a sigh that exhaled a cloud of vapor into the freezing air, the man with Super Strength and excellent Endurance wrapped the thick rope around his forearms and assumed a perfect anchoring stance.
— "The rope won't give, my lord. You can jump," — Trevor growled.
William nodded. He vaulted over the cement parapet and began to rappel rapidly down the face of the wall, using the rope for support.
As his feet struck the freezing stones on the way down, William's heart began to beat faster. The adrenaline of an isekai warrior mixed with the underlying panic of a modern man. He exuded confidence up there, but the truth in his mind was slightly different.
— "Alright, William, focus. Don't panic now," — he whispered to himself, his eyes fixed on the approaching ground. — "You can do this. The only things you've ever faced in life were Mrs. Maria's stray caramel dogs chasing your bicycle. This can't be that much worse... right? They're just angry big foxes... big foxes the size of wolves filled with black magic." —
He touched the snowy ground beyond the wall. The impact was soft. The smell of the miasma was nauseating up close — it smelled like rotting meat and burnt ozone — but, interestingly, the relentless cold punishing the men on the wall didn't even give him goosebumps. His new endurance was working beyond his expectations.
Up above, Trevor, Rick, Saldon, Zuler, and six other patrolmen craned their necks over the parapet, watching the solitary noble standing in the snowfield like some mad demigod.
The gray foxes, about five in the front line, stopped advancing. They sniffed the air. The presence of a lone human, isolated beyond the protection of the wall, was an irresistible invitation for carnage. They snarled, and the first of the pack took the initiative.
The beast pushed off its hind legs with a force that threw snow into the air and leaped. The fox's speed was terrifying; in less than a blink of an eye, it covered the distance and aimed straight for William's throat, its sharp claws extended, its fangs dripping with the black fluid.
William widened his eyes slightly, but his body acted faster than fear. He planted his feet on the ground, bent his knees, and raised the heavy tempered steel shield right in front of his face.
BAM!
The impact of the demonic beast colliding with the steel sounded like the crash of two speeding carriages. The fox's fangs scraped violently against the metal, producing a deafening screech and sparks. The kinetic force of an attack from an animal that size should have been enough to throw a grown man several meters backward, dislocating his shoulders in the process.
However, William merely slid a few inches in the snow. He felt the impact through his arm, yes, but the pain was zero. The one hundred and sixty points invested had armored his bones and tendons to such an extent that the shock felt like a mere friendly shove. He was a wall of flesh and steel.
— "My turn," — muttered William.
Before the stunned fox could retreat or try to attack his legs, William lowered the guard of the shield, opening space, twisted his hips with perfect technique, and fired a straight punch with his free right fist.
His colossal strength exploded through his knuckles. The punch struck the demonic fox's skull in mid-air.
The sound that followed wasn't a dull thud, but of bones being pulverized to dust. The absurd force of William's punch caved the animal's snout and skull inward. The demonic beast wasn't just thrown backward; its entire body spun violently in the air like a broken toy, landing five meters away in a pool of black blood, dead instantly before it even touched the ground.
On the wall, the silence was absolute. Rick, Saldon, and Zuler had their mouths hanging open in perfect "O"s. No one had ever seen a human kill a winter hybrid beast with a single punch without using any tricks with traps or spears.
But the battle wasn't over.
The smell of black blood enraged the rest of the pack. A second gray fox, demonstrating a sinister tactical intelligence, did not attack head-on. It ran along the flank, moving almost like a gray blur over the white snow, trying to flank William on his blind spot, on the side of his unarmed arm.
It leaped, aiming for the Lord's ribs.
— "Lord William! To your right!" — roared Trevor from above, his tense muscles gripping the rope in case the Lord was knocked down.
But William didn't need the warning. His fighting instincts, refined by his enormous strength, had already mapped the danger. Without bothering to turn his whole body, William simply twisted his torso toward the attack. He ignored the shield. As the fox tried to snap at his right arm, William raised his fist and delivered a downward strike, a hammer of flesh and bone, falling directly onto the animal's back in mid-leap.
CRACK!
The sound of the fox's spine snapping in half echoed clear and macabre across the open field. William's brutal blow crushed the animal against the snowy ground, sinking the carcass into the hard earth beneath the snow. The beast let out a sharp, pathetic yelp that was cut off almost immediately, its spasms ceasing in seconds. A single blow. Another instant kill.
William stood up, shaking off the black blood that had splattered onto his leather gloves. He looked at the three remaining foxes. The demonic beasts, creatures that supposedly knew no fear, stopped. The beasts' primal survival instinct spoke louder upon seeing the alpha predator standing before them. With low whimpers, the three turned around and fled into the safety of the forest mist.
The field returned to freezing silence.
Slowly, William turned back toward the wall, raising his thumb in a thumbs-up and giving two tugs on the rope tied around his waist.
— "You can pull me back up, Trevor. The test is over!" — shouted William, his voice exuding a charismatic, unwavering confidence.
On top of the parapet, Trevor began to pull the rope, a smile of fierce pride and absolute admiration stretching across his face. He looked at the militiamen around him. Rick, Saldon, Zuler, and Van'er's shooters were still slack-jawed, their eyes wide with astonishment bordering on religious fanaticism.
— "By the good and ancient gods..." — whispered Zuler, barely able to hold his spear. — "That... that is not human strength. That man is a god of war." —
— "I told you," — Trevor replied with a hoarse voice, coiling the rope as the Lord climbed back to safety. — "That right there is the man who will guide us through this winter. If the demonic beasts want to get past this wall, they are going to have to step over him first." —
William hopped back onto the walkway, knocking the snow off his boots. He handed the shield back to one of the nearby soldiers. His heart was already returning to its normal rhythm. His hands were no longer shaking. The memories of caramel dogs chasing bicycles were officially buried beneath black-blood-stained glory. He was now the Brave Guardian of Border Town, and he was more than ready to obliterate any creature that dared to cross his wall.