Chapter 138: Ice Mausoleum

Chapter 138: Ice MausoleumThe discussion about support for the Iron Sand Bandit Hunt continued for another hour. Grandpa William and Father John negotiated skillfully, securing commitments from the nobles for many soldiers and resources.

Finally, the meeting ended. The nobles, needing to prepare their forces for the upcoming battle, quietly left Fletcher Castle. As they departed, Apollo stood by a window, watching them.

Baron Sam, in particular, caught his attention. Sam’s face was contorted in frustration, his teeth grinding audibly as he walked away. Apollo couldn’t help but feel a mix of satisfaction and caution. He knew that the baron’s resentment could lead to further complications, but for now, he was confident in his strength, whether it was the baron or the count. He could handle them.

As the last of the nobles left, Grandpa William approached Apollo, placing a hand on his shoulder. "You did well today, Apollo."

Apollo nodded. "Thank you, Grandpa. But we must stay vigilant. Baron Sam won’t forget this easily. After clearing the Iron Sand Bandits, I will visit Count Stuart directly."

"Why go directly to the count?" His father, John, couldn’t help but ask. "Isn’t that too much?"

"It’s nothing," Apollo replied. "It’s just a hassle. If we beat the little brother, the big brother will eventually come. So, it’s better to beat the big brother directly. I just don’t want to waste my time, that’s all."

Grandpa William and his father nodded their heads in understanding, as they felt this was right.

John joined them, his expression serious. "We should prepare for the hunt immediately. The Iron Sand Bandits are a real threat, and we need to eliminate them swiftly to secure our territory."

"Anyway, Grandpa, how much do we know about them and their strength that can make so many nobles afraid?" Apollo asked with interest, as they hadn’t had many encounters with them.

Grandpa William sighed, his eyes reflecting a mix of concern and determination. "The Iron Sand Bandits are no ordinary group of thieves. They’ve been a thorn in the side of many nobles for years. They are well organized, highly trained, and possess a significant number of skilled fighters. They have three or four third-rank warriors, and their leader, known as Ironclad, is a formidable warrior, rumoured to be a peak third-rank master himself."

"They are famous throughout the northern region of the kingdom, with thousands of bandits spread across many small strongholds in the region. But their main stronghold is hidden deep within the Iron Sand Dunes, a treacherous area that provides them with natural defences. Many attempts to flush them out have failed, resulting in heavy casualties for those who tried."

"But for now, we only need to address the branches within our territory, so we can still handle it," Grandpa William said reassuringly.

Apollo nodded thoughtfully, absorbing the information. "Indeed, taking on the main stronghold would be difficult, but let’s focus on securing our territory first."

John added, "We’ll need to coordinate with the nobles who have pledged their support. Their soldiers and resources will be crucial in this effort. We should also ensure our territory is well-defended while we’re engaging the bandits."

"Right, John. Have the soldiers prepare for the raid. Within two days, we’ll gather news about their branches, and then we’ll launch an immediate attack with support from the other nobles." Grandpa William ordered.

With that, Apollo and his father left, but Grandpa William remained to discuss business with the merchants, recognizing their importance for the territory’s development.

Two days passed swiftly as scouts gathered intelligence on the Iron Sand Bandits’ branches within their territory.

Two hundred soldiers, along with Apollo, his father, and his grandfather, sat astride imposing white beast-blood horses, gathered and ready for battle.

"Let’s go. We already know the location of the nearby stronghold of the Iron Sand Bandits. Other reinforcements will join us near the stronghold," Grandpa William ordered.

The soldiers began their march toward the destination. With their fast pace, it took them only a day to arrive near the stronghold.

As the Fletcher forces arrived near the stronghold of the Iron Sand Bandits, they found reinforcements of more than three hundred soldiers already waiting for them. They paused to take stock of their surroundings. The stronghold was nestled in a dense forest, surrounded by natural barriers that made it difficult to approach.

The atmosphere was tense as Apollo, his father, and Grandpa William surveyed the area. The bandits had chosen their location well, taking advantage of the natural defences the forest provided.

They dismounted their horses and moved closer after surveying the area.

"We’ll need to be strategic about this. A frontal assault might result in heavy casualties. We should consider a multi-pronged approach to catch them off guard," Grandpa William concluded after careful consideration.

"Hmm, then let me go first and take a look," Apollo spoke calmly with confidence as he seemed to see the distant stronghold of bandits in the forest.

Apollo’s calm confidence was a reassuring presence for both his father and Grandpa William. As the strongest among them, they knew that even if something unexpected arose within the bandit stronghold, he could leave without difficulty. They exchanged glances and nodded, trusting in his abilities.

"Alright, Apollo," Grandpa William agreed. "But be careful. We’ll be right behind you."

As Apollo approached the bandit stronghold, the forest around him seemed to part in deference to his presence. His footsteps were steady and unhurried, and his aura emanated an undeniable confidence. The bandits, hidden within their stronghold, were completely unaware of the true extent of the danger approaching them.

With each step, Apollo’s senses sharpened. He could feel the faintest rustle of leaves, the distant chatter of the bandits, and even the subtle shifts in the natural energy around him. It was as if the world itself was whispering secrets to him.

This change was due to his significant increase in spiritual strength. He could now see and hear everything within a two-kilometre radius with his eyes closed.

Apollo approached the stronghold with a sense of serene purpose. As he neared the front, he was met with a series of crude barricades and makeshift defences. The bandits, confidently assuming their stronghold was secure, were unaware of the approaching storm.

Without hesitation, Apollo summoned his Ice Life Force. The front gate, a reinforced wooden structure, instantly froze and shattered like glass as he pointed a finger at it. The bandits were startled by the sound of shattering ice.

Hundreds of bandits emerged from their huts, their eyes fixed on Apollo, who stood calmly with his shining crystal eyes, indifferent to the hundreds of glares filled with killing intent.

"Who are you, and what are you doing here?" A large, sturdy bandit with cuts on his face demanded loudly.

Apollo’s eyes remained cold and focused as the large bandit confronted him. He stood amid the chaos of the broken gate, the shards of ice glistening like diamonds in the sunlight. The bandit’s voice, though demanding, was laced with a hint of trepidation.

"I am Apollo Fletcher," he announced with a calm authority that cut through the tension in the air. His tone was tinged with annoyance. "As for why I’m here—do I need to spell it out for you idiots? Given that I’ve already destroyed your gate and made a dramatic entrance, it’s clear I didn’t come here just for a drink."

"Even if you idiots still didn’t understand, in short, I am here to f**k you all up."

The bandits exchanged uneasy glances, their initial bravado wavering in the face of Apollo’s calm and bone-chilling cold demeanour.

The sturdy bandit, clearly the leader of this small group, tried to regain his composure. He puffed out his chest, attempting to project confidence. "You think you can take us all on by yourself? This is our territory."

Apollo didn’t even glance at the sturdy bandit. After entering the stronghold, he scanned the area with his powerful spirit, finding nothing of interest. He had expected to encounter something intriguing or meet a formidable warrior, but it seemed there was nothing remarkable.

Even the bandit leader was merely an early second-rank warrior with unstable energy—someone even Grandpa William could easily handle. Among the hundreds of bandits, only four were first-rank warriors.

"Brother, attack! Don’t leave this cocky guy alive!"

"Ahh! Yeah, kill him! Kill him! ..."

Instantly, hundreds of bandits charged at Apollo, driven by bloodlust and killing intent.

Apollo’s expression remained impassive as he faced the gathered bandits. With a deliberate motion, he summoned his Ice Life Force, and an aura of chilling cold spread through the air, instantly dropping the temperature below zero degrees Celsius. The bandits, who had been brimming with bravado, were now overtaken by a palpable sense of dread.

In an instant, Apollo unleashed a wave of frost that swept across the stronghold. His control over the Ice Life Force was so precise that every bandit was immediately encased in solid ice. The freezing effect was both instantaneous and absolute. The bandits’ attempts to resist were futile as the temperature plummeted, and their movements were completely immobilized.

As the frost spread, the once-confident bandits were transformed into statues of ice. Their expressions were frozen in a mix of shock and terror, and their weapons and cries of defiance were now trapped in crystalline tombs. The stronghold, once filled with loud noises, fell eerily silent, save for the soft sound of ice cracking and settling.

The entire stronghold was quickly enveloped in ice, transforming it into an Ice Mausoleum. Hundreds of bandits were frozen alive, their shocked expressions preserved even in the moment of their deaths.