33 – 8. Starry Night (7)

“Drop your weapons and surrender!”

Behind, a carriage. No intention of coming out until the situation was resolved.

In front, numerous elves. Menacingly brandishing weapons and growling.

Nowhere to escape but the vast sky. Falling would mean utter destruction.

“Well, it’s a good day to die.”

Eugene joked with a melancholic face. He raised his shield and sword, adjusted his posture, and suddenly pushed Yuri forward.

“Huh…?”

“Go, Yuri Frank! Jansc University, Knight Department, top of the class!”

“Uh…?”

Yuri stepped forward with a bewildered expression.

“Um, I-I’m a frontline fighter. Really, all alone?”

“I’ve never fought in a battle since coming from the 21st century!”

“I was an illustrator, for goodness’ sake!”

“You studied knightly arts!”

“This is for self-defense!”

As the two began bickering, the elves surrounding them looked on with perplexed eyes.

They seemed like students. How did they end up here, and why?

Moreover, armed and ready for a surprise attack?

“What’s going on?”

“It seems like human nobles are out for a stroll. Handle them with care. Don’t kill them.”

University students were essentially nobles; they had to endure a murderous tuition. Therefore, capturing them could lead to a favorable deal with the king of griffins.

The arena sighed, and the crew raised their weapons with uneasy expressions.

Fortunately, the opponents appeared to be inexperienced young humans with no will to fight.

Behind the two intruders, a tall man in a hood flipped his hood and sighed deeply, raising his hand.

“How foolish. What kind of party is it with one in the front and two in the back? Haven’t you played a game?”

Oswald waved his hand, weaving a spell. Violet magic shimmered, creating intricate patterns in response to his gestures.

[Grant Courage]. It was a low-level spell, but he knew from experience that Eugene, in particular, had no resistance to mental magic.

Perhaps it was only natural. Those who had just crossed over from the 21st century would hardly resist mental magic that required ‘willpower.’

-Kiiing—!

“Eugh.”

Eugene’s head, under the influence of the spell, drooped.

“W-what did you do?”

“I instilled a bit of courage. I’ll support you, so buy some time at the front. Until Mr. Ivan arrives.”

“Uh, y-yes. Uh, Eugene?”

Eugene mumbled with bowed head.

“Yes? Are you okay?”

“Y-yes.”

“…Yes?”

“My name is Yevgeny Nobikov Karamzin.”

With the hand holding the knife, Eugene traced the insignia lightly, touching his lips to the blade, whispering softly.

“May the Lord watch over our battle today.”

“Um, Oswald, did you cast the wrong spell?”

“No way. I used ‘Valor Bestowal’…?”

Ignoring the puzzled voices of his bewildered companions, Eugene calmly opened his eyes.

The determination gleamed in his deep blue eyes as he raised his sword high.

“Praise the glory of the Lord. You who bring peace to this land by upholding virtue and justice.”

“Uh… um…”

“Mixing the Priest class with the Paladin class might have caused some conflict.”

“This is… incredibly, incredibly strange. Please don’t do this to me. I can handle it on my own.”

Had she lost consciousness? Yuri trembled in fear.

From Noble mtl dot com

Imagine losing oneself completely in role-play while immersed in a game setting.

Then, if she delved into role-playing at the Academy of Combat Arts, what would her true self look like?

In that case, it’s better to wield a sword and fight. Luckily, Yuri excelled in swordsmanship, being the top student in Knight Studies.

“Heretics!! Hear the holy words of our Lord!! Worship and praise!!”

Eugene yelled as he dashed forward, swinging his sword abruptly. Clang! A rough explosion accompanied by a bright white light burst from his blade.

“Divine Strike…!”

“What a fool. He should have learned healing skills instead.”

Yuri and Oswald grumbled as they followed Eugene ahead.

The three players succeeded in causing chaos on the deck. Everything was going according to Ivan’s plan.

*

Walking through the dark corridors with flashing warning lights, Ivan listened intently.

Beep, beep. Amidst the blaring sirens, he tuned into faint, subtle sounds one by one.

The repetitive noise echoing through the narrow space could serve as a clue for echo location if one could distinguish the origin of the noise.

Not as sharp as the elves, but a well-trained agent’s hearing could identify targets through the residual time difference of echoes bouncing off objects.

In that manner, Ivan sensed the presence of two individuals just before turning the corner of the corridor.

-Boom!

Almost simultaneously revealing himself in the corridor, shots were fired. The opponent startled, swiftly twisting to evade the gunfire.

Seems there’s a flank detection.

Ivan nodded and drew his axe.

“Who goes there?”

The question was misguided. It was an indicator of these guys’ training status.

After neutralizing the opponent with gunfire, questioning their identity was a foolish inquiry unless the opponent clearly showed hostility.

So, instead of answering, Ivan leaped. The inexperienced elf crewman had to pay the price for the wrong question.

-Whoong

-Kwaang!

“Ugh!”

The axe whirled in the air, striking the elf’s neck. A clean trajectory marked the powerful blow. The elf, gasping for breath, was impaled on the wall with a thud.

Simultaneously, he aimed his gun at the approaching figure. Without aiming, he fired.

-Twang—

“This bastard!”

Naturally, he evaded. He was someone with angle detection. However, in that moment when he avoided the angle and turned his body, that brief instant was all Ivan needed.

When he turned back, Ivan was already swinging the axe beneath his chin.

-Kwaang—

With his jaw turned, the elf collapsed without even uttering a groan.

Due to the wrong angle of attack, it was more of a blunt hit with a short mace than an axe, but as long as he didn’t die, it was enough.

Ivan kicked the elf with a broken jaw aside and moved on.

-Wheee!

-Wheee!!

The sirens loudly echoed through the corridor.

Amid the noisy corridor with red warning lights flashing, Ivan closed his eyes and continued walking.

Whee, whee. Calculating the time difference of ultrasonic reflections in every nook and cranny of the corridor.

*

Onest, the captain of the ‘Boil’s Glory,’ a Volpstal-class aerial battleship of the Kaleon military, frowned in his captain’s quarters.

The last report clearly stated, ‘Unidentified students attempted an assault and are currently being neutralized.’

It happened at the very moment when they were preparing for the arrival of Prince Alexander’s envoy and the concoction.

It was indeed a bit sensitive, but it was just that much.

Wasn’t it a mistake to dock the ship above the university in the first place?

If those youths in their prime wanted to prove their courage and daring, it was ordinary for them to have a drink or attempt infiltration with some buoyancy magic.

However, however.

“Why is there no additional report?”

I heard that it was three young students.

Since all students at the Jansk University are either nobles or at least from influential families, he ordered their capture.

No matter how arrogant an elf may be, it is not their place to assassinate students from another country on foreign soil.

But even if that’s the case, they are still just students. Despite their depth of knowledge, at their age, they are daring, but it only means “student level.”

So, whether they succeeded in capturing them or managed to escape under the deck, if it’s been 10 minutes since the attack, there should be some additional report.

“Is anyone there? Lookout! Check the situation on the deck and report back!”

He shouted nervously. He couldn’t go to the deck himself.

On the deck, there might be envoys of Prince Alexander arriving. It’s not good for the captain to personally go out to greet them, and in this situation, appearing weak in front of the diplomatic agreement between nations would be the end.

“Is anyone there? What are you all doing? Even that damn siren, shut it off! Can we live with this noise?”

Finally, Ernest stood up from his seat.

With a solemn attitude, he crossed the captain’s quarters and forcefully opened the door.

“Wheee!”

“Wheee!”

In the corridor where the noisy sirens could be heard, however, no lights were visible.

Did it break down? The thought crossed his mind briefly. But he quickly shook his head.

It couldn’t have broken down. This is an attack.

“Damn!”

He gritted his teeth and quickly hid behind the door, pulling out the ceremonial sword hanging on the wall. He took a deep breath.

“Is this from Elizabeth?”

“….”

“Damn it, answer me! An attack by students. Ridiculous. Using a two-pronged strategy and even involving students!?”

The confrontation on the deck could be in any situation, but at least the situation hadn’t ended yet.

No matter how formidable the forces they brought, they wouldn’t be able to kill all the crew members in 10 minutes with just three people.

So, they endure for now. If Prince Alexander understands the situation, he might consider deploying military forces.

Neither Ernest nor Alexander would want to be exposed to Elizabeth at this point.

Then, a voice echoed.

“The palace minister must have clearly said.”

“What…?”

Ernest turned his head at the faint sound echoing down the corridor.

It was a distance away, likely at the end of the passage leading to the Captain’s quarters. At such a range, even if he cast a major destructive spell, the damage wouldn’t reach as far as the Captain’s room.

Nodding to himself, he intertwined his fingers, channeling the magic that surged vividly, weaving through his fingertips.

Then, it happened.

“Boooooom—!!”

A thunderous noise ripped through the air.

“Kwaaang!!”

Something rushed past the open doorway, striking the Captain’s table with force.

A spell? A destructive enchantment? Ernest urgently turned his head, preparing defensive spells in case of an explosion-type magic.

“…An axe…?”

One axe, tied with ropes, was half-embedded in the wreckage of the Captain’s table.

Ernest muttered in disbelief.

“The lumberjack… was real?”

Such a straightforward expression, devoid of any twisted metaphor or malice.

Ernest chuckled in bewilderment.

The rope tightened around the axe with a ping sound.

“Kwajik!”

The axe was yanked out along the rope, its momentum spinning around and striking Ernest’s leg.

“Argh!”

Luckily, it hit his back, not his leg directly. Ernest rolled away, his ankle possibly sprained, escaping the axe’s range.

The axe seemed to vanish into the darkness at the end of the corridor. Using his sword as a cane, Ernest struggled to stand up when, from within the darkness, he heard slow, deliberate footsteps.

A glint of azure shone amid the shadows.

Soon, a rugged beard came into view.

Muscular, serpent-like veins on his arms, and the sharp edge of the axe firmly grasped in his hand.

Even a gun aimed at him.

“Let’s negotiate.”

“That wasn’t the order I received.”

“Tang—!”

A spark flew from the end of the pistol in the darkened corridor.

*

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