30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue

43 – 9. An assault always occurs during academy field training. (7)

*

Extend the magical power, spreading it thoroughly through every corner of the nerves.

Hold the breath, adjusting the sensation of magical power flowing through the veins.

-Click.

Sensations that would normally go unnoticed awaken. The intervals of time, the fingertip on the trigger pulling it, and even the subtle friction as the internal spring of the firearm twists are all perceived.

This is the battlefield of the supernaturals.

-Boom—!!

Fire. Simultaneously, eyes opened.

The flames bursting from the muzzle momentarily illuminated the dark tunnel.

The reason for raising the sensitivity was this. To prevent sudden brightness from causing visual impairment to the nerve endings adapted to darkness.

Although the stimulated nerves make the eyes sting, it’s okay. It’s familiar enough.

The images of three figures were etched like scars on Ivan’s retina.

“Gun! Who else is there?!”

“Damn it, where were they hiding?!”

The figure leaning against the wall was Oscar. The two small figures walking slowly across the tunnel were dwarves.

Confirmed the sparks flying near the dwarf’s head at the same time as the shot.

Wearing standard dwarf infantry equipment.

Ivan immediately shifted the aiming line and rushed forward.

“He’s coming! Get ready!”

The dwarf at the forefront shouted loudly. Considering the lingering traces still present on the retina, this guy was armed with a two-handed axe.

Dwarf infantry standard equipment is essentially a brute full-body plate armor. A thick and formidable armor that provides almost absolute defense against external attacks, not yielding even to most real gold.

‘So that’s why it’s a sword.’

The reason for not wielding an axe is precisely that. No matter how much you chop with an axe, it won’t cut through the gold. These people, even buried under the mountains during past wartime, survived.

They endured even when crushed by giant rocks, thanks to the robustness of their armor.

There was a developed martial art to deal with such beings.

-Skak!

“Ha! Human! Impossible!”

The blade scratched the surface of the plate armor, sparks flying. A long whistling sound accompanied the deflecting sword.

-Whooong!

Detecting the direction and speed, he immediately lowered his waist. A massive axe blade passed over Ivan’s head as the sword was deflected.

Letting it flow, he raised his left hand and fired again.

-Twang!

This time, he aimed at another dwarf behind the one before. Sparks flew from the muzzle, revealing the figure again.

Posture, balance, vulnerabilities in the armor, the smirking face of the stubborn one, and even the long ashen beard below the chin.

Ivan held the sword straight and struck quickly.

-Crack!

“You!”

The dwarf’s roar echoed. A strike precisely aimed at the joint, executed with an unbelievable precision in the darkness.

But this was not enough. The dwarf thought so as he swung the axe again.

-Whooong—!

Dodge again, crack. Striking the same spot. A mechanical repetition of this process.

The vulnerable points in the armor were the joint areas covered by chainmail and gambeson. It provided enough protection against regular sword attacks, but not enough to withstand the strikes of an extraordinary sword.

So, once again, crack!

“This technique… Were you on the battlefield ten years ago?”

“Is that all?”

He answered almost unconsciously. Ivan smirked. The reason being the scream of Kim Sunwoo inside, who had been 20 years old.

Emotions aside, both hands had work to do.

-Twang!

Firing again. Securing a momentary view, he stepped back to avoid the approaching dwarf from behind, swirling the sword. Crack, breaking the chain.

The one who first devised this tactic was none other than Lieutenant Ivan Petrovich. At that time, he was a lieutenant, not a major.

The name of this technique was ‘Dwarf Dissection.’

“This…!”

Crack, clang!

Finally, the dwarf’s shoulder guard was torn off. With the blade bouncing off in the shock and naturally releasing the hilt, he reached for his waist.

From the hip holster, he drew a short dagger and, without hesitation, thrust it into the exposed bare shoulder until it was embedded.

*Swoosh!*

“aaargh!”

Shoulder injuries were fatal to a warrior, almost equivalent to losing one arm. The movements of the guy wielding dual axes became noticeably sluggish.

But there were only two enemies. The approaching dwarf warrior finally swung his weapon.

“Stop!”

*Swing!*

Once again, he dodged the weapon and raised the left-hand revolver. This shot was fired with precise aim and controlled breath.

*Bang!*

“aaargh!”

Aiming for the dagger embedded in the shoulder, he precisely fired a shot. The dagger bounced off, disappearing into the darkness of the gangway. The dwarf, with his torn shoulder, screamed and hesitated, sitting down.

Now, he spun his body to readjust his position. Putting away the revolver, he once again pulled out a short dagger from the hip holster.

*Swish.*

The dagger that was first thrown into the air now began its descent. Catching the hilt precisely in midair, he swung it again.

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*Clang!*

He struck the newly appeared dwarf once more with a precise ‘parrying strike,’ taking advantage of the moment of breath and time.

In a whirlwind, he stabbed the blade, twisted the armor layer by layer.

As if conducting surgery, with the precision of a surgeon, one drop at a time.

In the deep darkness where nothing could be seen, facing two dwarves with obscured vision, he dealt with them simultaneously, wielding both hands.

Disassembling each other’s armor, thrusting the dagger into the exposed flesh, throwing the dagger into the air, firing the revolver, catching the falling dagger, and swinging it again.

*

“What is this…?”

Oscar opened his mouth wide, swallowing his groans.

He had just vowed to fight with his life and bring honor to the knighthood.

But right in front of him, a giant appeared, slaughtering unknown enemies.

“The sounds, they almost overlap.”

This was beyond common sense. The sound of swinging swords almost overlapped. In other words, the gap between each sword strike was extremely tight.

How on earth was such movement possible? Oscar chuckled in disbelief.

If the attacker was that guy, there was no choice but to die.

The battle ended in an instant. The moment the first shot was heard, the unidentified man who had rushed in returned, accompanied by the strong scent of blood, before two breaths could even pass.

“Can you see anything?”

Humans have no night vision. At best, they are a species limited to dwarves or demons when it comes to possessing such ability. So, the question also carried the meaning of whether he was human.

“It’s not like seeing will help in a fight.”

“Sigh…”

“Is your leg injured?”

“Yes, embarrassingly, it broke when I got tangled in the roots.”

“Do you have the bead?”

“Yes.”

“Then wait quietly here. Silently.”

The man turned and walked away. Oscar hastily raised his head.

“Wait! Just a moment! Could I at least hear your name?”

“Ivan Petrovich.”

“Where are you going? Where are you heading? If I can help, I’ll help!”

“A student should focus on his studies.”

In the darkness, the man’s laughter sounded.

The departing footsteps, clunking away, came back, and the man placed his hand on Oscar’s head.

“You never liked your father, but the child’s education seems to have succeeded. Jurij Berg’s son, Oscar. Your actions were excellent.”

“Do you know my father?”

“If that man hasn’t forgotten me yet, then we’re friends.”

The man turned away again. This time, without looking back, he left silently.

Somewhere beyond the tunnel, clunk, clunk. The rhythmic footsteps gradually faded away.

*

Isabel sat quietly in the darkness.

Fortunately, she had come down without major injuries, but she wasn’t foolish enough to move her body recklessly in a place where nothing was visible.

“The exam will be canceled, right? I won’t fail just like this, will I?”

That was her only worry. Four hours seemed to have already passed, but she couldn’t even guess how much time had actually passed.

-Clunk, clunk.

Isabel’s head suddenly lifted. The sound of footsteps echoed.

Had the rescue team finally arrived? Isabel stood up abruptly and shouted.

“Here! There’s someone here!”

“What’s your name?”

“Isabel! Or, do you prefer going by people’s names?!”

“Found her! Target secured!! Call the Commander!”

“Huh?”

Target? Commander?

Isabel’s head spun for a moment, startled.

Suddenly crumbling ground, rushing soil, and a cave that seemed to stretch into the unknown.

And there, ‘target,’ ‘commander.’ Could it be…?

“Seriously! This is getting annoying!”

Again! Another terror in this forest, and it was aimed at her.

How many fell victim to this terror? How many sacrificed themselves amidst all this?

Isabel gritted her teeth.

Judging by the way they claimed to have found the target, and considering how it took them a while to appear after she fell into the trap, this was undoubtedly more than just an incident involving one or two people.

Soon, the heavy footsteps echoed throughout the entire cave beyond.

-Thud, thud, thud.

A group was approaching her in silence. Trained soldiers. And they must have cast a spell like ‘Dark Vision’ or something equivalent, given the need for such in this dark cave to move as a group.

Isabel raised her sword high. Her eyes burned with anger.

She was done with others sacrificing themselves in her place.

Living with the guilt of those sacrifices had become tiresome.

So, to release this boundless anger, she took a deep breath.

“I am Isabelle, daughter of Maxmilien and Marie, a knight of Tilles. State your names!”

“Indeed, you’ve got some spirit.”

A deep voice resonated in the distance.

“3rd Company, 5th Battalion under the direct command of the 5th Dragon Commander, ‘Webmaker’ Combat Corps. I am Asturk, a Senior Lieutenant. In your terms, I suppose, roughly equivalent to a Commander of a thousand men.”

Upon hearing those words, Isabel recalled Iphelos, the White Commander. The demonic officer Iphelos had captured.

The fight she had with him was a matter of life and death. If we assume the logic of his rank being the White Commander, given that the demonic hierarchy is based on the strength of power…

“Stronger than that guy back then.”

Isabel clenched her teeth. While a Commander of a thousand men might not be ten times stronger than a White Commander, the difference in power was evident.

And he wasn’t alone. A series of figures were approaching with him.

And the field of vision is extremely limited. It’s not just a matter of restriction; it’s at a level where nothing can be seen.

“Is this really how I die…?”

There is no fear. The moment the sword is raised, death is an expected event.

She thought of her father. Maximilian would not have shown fear even in such a situation.

So, at least, she must not show fear in the face of death in front of the demons.

She is a knight of Tilles. And the daughter of a warrior. Among the many privileges she enjoyed, there was no right to feel fear.

Only duty. Duty to be resolute even in the face of death.

“Come. I, Isabelle of Tilles, will stand here and die today!”

“…Comrade. How old is that kid?”

“Yes, Commander! That little one is turning twenty this year!”

“Adjust the plan. Make sure to kill. Leave no survivors.”

Any demon of the rank of a celestial commander remembers the warrior party. Even if they haven’t encountered them directly, warriors to demons were a personification of ‘death.’

Encounter them, and you die. Approach them, and you die. The moment the rumors spread, if you don’t run away, you die.

It’s like a natural disaster. Moreover, it belongs to an unpredictable disaster. The movement route of the warrior party was a top-secret matter of the Allied Kingdom, so the warrior party always ‘raided’ enemy territory.

No matter how many tracking teams were dispatched, none returned. They were thorough in concealing their location.

The warrior party, reigning in the terror of the demons, eventually exterminated the Demon King. And the war ended. Unfortunately for the demons, there was no chance to overcome the ‘warrior trauma.’

So, this little one showing courage that shouldn’t be possible at that age.

That kid must be killed. They must take that supply.

They have to inform their comrades in the homeland that even the ‘symbol of terror’ can’t escape death….

“Yeah, go ahead and kill. A knight of Tilles doesn’t fall alone!”

Isabelle wanted to run away. She wanted to sit down. She was just a girl who had recently turned twenty.

But she couldn’t.

When she thinks of the countless people sacrificed in the train terror that day and her comrades entangled in the current terror.

She had no right to despair in the face of impending death.

‘That’s a bit lingering.’

The regret of not being able to go on a date with the gentleman does linger. Thinking about it now, the emotions she felt when thinking about him weren’t just goodwill.

So, it’s regrettable. She could have expressed it a little more.

*

-Tap, tap, tap.

“…?”

Beyond the cave, a rhythmic sound could be heard.

Chik, chik. The short noise of a tongue and front teeth rubbing together.

What is this sound? Asturk narrowed his eyes in thought. The tension before battle and the silence were interrupted by this sound. Somehow, it felt familiar.

It seems like I’ve heard this somewhere before…

“A regular sound of tongue clicking…? Humans, echolocation!?”

As memories surfaced, a series of assumptions followed.

“There’s only one human group skilled enough in echolocation to use it in battle.”

“That group was secretly cultivated by the Krasiloph royal regime during the last war.”

“And this place is Krasiloph….”

Asturk was astonished as he tightly gripped his weapon.

If the hero party embodied the fear of death,

‘That group’ embodied the ‘terror of the night’ that even the shadow-sighted creatures, the mages, feared. They were the assassins meticulously trained by Shadowblade Enrique.

‘When,’ ‘where,’ and ‘how’ were meaningless questions for them.

Literally, at ‘any time,’ ‘anywhere,’ and ‘by any means,’ they accomplished their objectives and vanished like shadows in the night.

“Annihilation Unit!! The accursed ones are still here?! Comrades, raise your weapons! Be on guard!”

-Chik, chik, chik….

The rhythmic noise echoed through the cave and abruptly stopped.

Silence descended heavily. The dwarves, who seemed ready to charge at any moment, were now firmly in place, huddled behind their makeshift barricades.

Isabel swallowed hard, scanning her surroundings. Nothing was visible, but she could sense that something was off about the enemies.

‘Annihilation Unit…? What is that…?’

It was a name she had never heard before. However, they seemed infamous to the others. The calm demeanor that had prevailed just moments ago during their casual stroll through the village was now frozen in an instant.

And then,

-Chek.

With a heavy, grinding noise of metal,

-Taang—

There was light.

*