Chapter 123

I will translate the provided text into English using first-person point of view as requested, while maintaining the narrative flow and content. Here is the translation:

—

The unwavering rule that only seasonal snow should accompany was shattered by the colossal thunderous aura enveloping the dark clouds, which dissipated almost instantly as soon as Asulin lost consciousness and collapsed.

The intricate restraints applied to Asulin were secured much faster than the time it took for those ominous clouds to dissipate, even though she had been subdued.

Four figures, appearing at Dominus’ behest, swiftly revealed themselves, finishing the preparation to restrain and transport Asulin in an instant.

“It’s better to move her to my tent immediately. I need to keep an eye on her.”

With displeased expressions, they all donned pitch-black plate armor as per Dominus’ command.

The heavy black iron armor covering every part of their bodies, including their faces, exuded a formidable presence and bulkiness that made it difficult to discern who was inside, even for someone with keen observational skills.

If one were to speak in response to Dominus’ orders, there might still be a chance of identification; otherwise, there was no way to tell.

“You troublesome little thing, I won’t tolerate rough handling.”

As the silent black knights finished restraining Asulin and vanished just like before, without a sound, Dominus gave his order once more in a chilling voice.

No sound could be heard from them, not even the rustling of armor or the breath of life moving within the heavy armor.

Not even the clanking sounds of their movements could be heard as they carried out their task.

Their presence was unmistakably visible, yet their existence barely left any trace. Their nimbleness was so extraordinary that it seemed almost unnatural to observe them.

“The spirits of these rumors… They have been well-trained.”

The elderly man on the mountain, upon witnessing this, let out a faint sigh of admiration.

“Spirits,” a term devoid of any positive connotations, also referred to the knives Dominus had kept hidden when he was the head of the Caroldburg family, selecting secret members from the Bright Wing Knights to perform unsavory deeds for his ambitions.

The black armor they wore indicated that they belonged to the Black Wing Knights, a group renowned for their prowess, on par with the elite Bright Wing Knights.

Given how quickly they appeared and disappeared at a single call, it was natural for the elderly man to refer to them as “spirits.”

They would eliminate anyone who knew too much before they could react, and those unaware of their existence would remain oblivious until their final moments.

Based solely on fragmented glimpses, the elderly man had to rely on instinct to deduce their identity.

Had Dominus, still harboring resentment, chosen to feign ignorance or deny their existence upon hearing such inquiries, it would have been easy for him to conceal their presence. However,

“Adorable little ones, they are trained so well that they would die right here if I were to pass away.”

He did not seem intent on concealing their existence, and his words acknowledged their presence directly.

Considering the elderly man’s penchant for showing off in front of others, despite his lifelong career as an assassin, he would typically revel in such confirmation. Yet,

“Such heavy armor and yet they move with the grace of assassins… It’s remarkable, but also strangely awkward.”

Instead of expressing joy, he focused on the paradoxical nature of their movements.

For an assassin leader, overseeing operatives who moved so stealthily despite their flamboyant armor must have seemed bizarre.

…An assassin leader known for his many appearances, whose operations had become so public that he could not openly act.

This contradiction puzzled Dominus, leading him to sneer viciously at the old man.

Already irritable due to having to reveal his most trusted methods in front of others to prevent Asulin’s escape, he was on edge.

But instead of resorting to profanity, he merely muttered under his breath, his tone a mix of resignation and acceptance.

“Do you see? Life doesn’t always follow the natural order. We, you, and these children, we are proof of that disorder.”

Dominus, who had remained cold and unyielding throughout the chaos, finally softened his expression slightly.

His dry tone conveyed no emotion, yet his words hinted at a deeper resignation.

“…Now, such disorder no longer concerns me…”

His voice, now resigned, carried a sense of defeat.

—

The tumultuous aftermath of Asulin’s failed escape attempt settled down after some time.

Due to Asulin’s powerful lightning strikes, which scattered energy akin to volcanic eruptions, the barbarian tribe’s makeshift encampment, barely holding together against the cold, was left in ruins.

Most of the tents meant for shelter had vanished without a trace, and some barbarians, scorched by the lightning, screamed indistinguishably between cries of pain and despair, rolling around on the icy ground.

Without proper medical knowledge, the barbarians could do nothing for their fallen comrades, and the cries of agony grew louder with each passing moment.

The encampment was a chaotic mess, comparable only to pandemonium. However, there were a few silver linings.

Firstly, the troops from the Frostmoor Fortress, clearly visible from afar, had not been dispatched to attack them.

Even if the fortress’s defenders had seen the commotion, they would have rushed to intervene, despite the risks.

The fortress remained eerily silent inside.

While the immediate danger had passed, uncertainty loomed over the future.

“Even if we return to our original homes, what’s the point? We’re destined to die either way. This is our best chance to live a bit longer.”

Some barbarians voiced their resignation, a sentiment spreading like poison.

Though their inner thoughts remained unknown, their reactions were predictable given their dire situation.

Certainly, there were barbarians who felt fortunate that preparations for the final battle could proceed undisturbed.

Secondly, the lightning unleashed by Asulin brought an unintended consequence.

“…We didn’t expect to face flames when we couldn’t even find kindling to start a fire.”

“Should we consider this good luck, or are we supposed to survive by being cut down?”

“Idiot, stop spouting nonsense. Being cut down is better than freezing to death.”

“Warmth makes me crave alcohol.”

“There are stories of endless alcohol even after dying from a knife wound. That’s what we should hope for.”

Despite the chaos caused by Asulin’s lightning, the small fires ignited by the remnants of kindling melted the ice and thawed the hearts and bodies of the barbarians.

…It was similar to offering a deadly disease and then the cure only at the brink of death.

Yet, for the barbarians who valued survival over a death in combat, Asulin’s fires raised their morale in a twisted manner.

Perhaps, once the sun rises, these barbarians will shout war cries and charge towards the fortress, aiming to leap over it and venture further.

They wouldn’t know,

“Idiots, we won’t have to fight for a while…”

The mastermind behind their plight no longer intended to use them to attack the fortress.

No, he didn’t plan to attack the fortress at all.

“Make the best of your time and serve as fodder for the ritual.”

His intention was to use them merely as expendable resources during the ceremony.

“Simple-minded fools…”

Dominus, muttering ambiguously while observing the barbarians below, slowly walked toward his tent.

Usually, he would have needed rest to prepare for the ritual, but

“…I may have been too harsh.”

Dominus, speaking about the sacrifice with a peculiar expression that betrayed no emotion, seemed lost in thought.