Chapter 103
Chapter 103
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 103
>Chapter Title: Real Combat is a Given (8)
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*
If the enemy hadn't sent a strike team specifically to ambush the Hero's Party, but had instead simply encountered them by chance during a ‘patrol’...
From that moment on, the roles of attacker and attacked would be reversed. Now, the prey would hunt the hunter. Tense, Isabelle clutched the hilt of her sword with a sweaty palm as she lay in wait.
-Rustle.
A loud noise came from the bushes. It was the sound of someone forcing their way through the dense tree trunks.
Soon, the clanking of metal followed. The sound of heavy armor and a pole periodically striking the ground.
*Ah, so this is why the old man stressed focusing on sound.*
Isabelle finally understood. That's right. The overwhelming superiority that superhumans held over other ‘humans’ wasn't just because they were faster and stronger.
Hearing, sight, touch, spatial awareness, cognitive ability. The moment one enhanced their nerves with mana, all sensory systems transcended human limits.
In the realm of superhumans, no non-superhuman could ever ‘ambush’ them.
Pinpointing an opponent's location through sound and smell was ‘common sense’ for superhumans.
-Snap.
Isabelle calmly made a hand signal they had planned in advance. An open palm, shaken twice. It meant [Wait].
Soon after, four orcs appeared in their line of sight.
*Four of them.*
Two more than last time. They must have reinforced their numbers as their ‘patrols’ kept disappearing. It made sense.
If this had been their first encounter, it would have been a tough fight. But not anymore. They had experienced plenty of close-quarters combat with orcs.
What was it he said?
Ah.
*"A well-trained agent doesn't struggle in the same situation twice."*
Recalling Ivan's voice, Isabelle tightened her grip on her sword.
A little closer. Just a little more.
An invisible ‘line’ that the orcs couldn't see from their angle. The moment they crossed it.
*Now!*
Isabelle clenched her open hand into a fist and pumped it back and forth three times.
-Fwoosh—!!
With a thin sound that cut through the air, a small, invisible dagger flew out and broke the ‘line’. Elfihera's shot.
The orcs reacted the instant they heard the sound, gripping their spears. They were quick. Definitely tricky opponents to face head-on.
These were elite soldiers, capable of infiltrating deep into Krasilov territory. Isabelle swallowed hard and rose to her feet.
“Oskar!”
“Yes!!”
From different directions, Isabelle and Oskar charged simultaneously. She could see the orcs raising their spears, letting out screams in a bizarre language.
And between them.
-CRAAASH—!!
A thick log dropped like a stamp. One orc was crushed flat, and the other three, startled, leaped in different directions.
“Essie!!”
Isabelle shouted as she swung her sword at the orc leaping toward her. A moment later, Esidis, who had been crouched behind a shrub, sprang out and struck the orc's back.
-CLANG—!!
“Khuuk?!”
The orc staggered in mid-air, losing its balance. Isabelle quickly thrust her sword into a gap in its armor, then twisted her body away.
What about Oskar? Isabelle and Esidis immediately turned their gazes in the direction he had charged.
-FWOOSH!!
They saw a fist-sized fireball slam into the head of the orc that had been bringing its poleaxe down on Oskar's shield.
“Is it finished?”
“Already done over there!”
“Good.”
The fleeing orc had fallen into a trap prepared by Esidis and was dead. At least it couldn't complain, since the trap was made from its own comrades' spears.
Wiping away beads of sweat, Isabelle looked over her party members as they gathered.
“Anyone hurt?”
“If anyone got hurt after all this preparation, they wouldn't even be human.”
“Weren't you in a safe spot, Miss Elfihera?”
“In this forest? Safe?”
“That's true. In any case, it seems no one is injured, Miss Isabelle.”
Isabelle smiled with satisfaction as she surveyed the party. Their coordination was getting better and better. Their division of roles was seamless, and their timing was excellent.
*Maybe this is why my parents adventured together.*
She felt a little proud.
Wiping the blood from her blade, Isabelle gave a bright smile.
“A trap where they'd land to avoid another trap. That's some impressive application, Miss Esidis.”
“Hehe, that's just ‘common sense’! And just call me Essie, Oskar.”
“For the record, I'd prefer you not use nicknames for me. And if you could, please address me properly as Lady Grikenkos, not with a familiar title like ‘Miss Elfihera’.”
“Can someone please punch her for me?”
Elfihera was giggling even as she said it. Seeing her, Isabelle and the rest of the party chuckled along.
In a forest filled with traps and enemies. Even while unraveling the plot of demons whose identity and purpose were unknown.
The fact that they were all gathered with a single purpose—to drive out the demons who had set foot on human land and to rescue the mentor to whom they were indebted—felt a little awkward, but not bad at all.
*
“An eye?”
Ivan asked, setting down the hacksaw. The orc (what was left of it) was gasping for breath, looking up at Ivan with unfocused eyes.
*Pop.* The sound of a bottle cap being twisted off. The orc trembled violently, foam gathering at its mouth.
“It's true! I swear! Put that... put that down!! J-just... just kill me!!”
“Such disappointing words. I still have so many questions.”
“I told you everything! Everything I know! It's true. Please, spare me. No, no, kill me! I really don't know anything else!”
“I must commend your loyalty and endurance.”
Ivan said, slowly pouring a healing potion over the orc's wounds.
“The very fact that you refuse to talk despite such harsh treatment is proof that you're better than most of the trash back in my country.”
“What kind of bullshit is that?! I really told you everything I know!!”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
Ivan gestured with his chin toward a long staff lying next to the orc.
It was a magical implement that looked extremely suspicious at a glance, with a crystal sphere that looked like polished obsidian embedded at its tip.
Naturally, one should never touch or move such an object directly. This was due to the wicked wisdom the demons had gained during their long war with humanity.
Humans had a habit of collecting mysterious or peculiar-looking items.
As soon as they realized this trait, the demons began mass-producing ‘items that only looked impressive’ and embedding all sorts of curses in them.
With the front lines already being pushed back, the nation exhausted, and the poorly educated and starving conscripts, they could hardly resist the temptation of such ‘treasures’.
Even Ivan himself had once lost his sight for three days. It happened right after he picked up an astonishingly sharp steel axe. Fortunately, back then, Ivan was able to substitute his hearing for sight, so he got through the crisis unscathed. (Though Enrique had lamented, "Why in the world did you get cursed by picking up something so stupid?")
In any case, the most important lesson from the countless battles of that era was this:
Never touch a suspicious artifact dropped by a demon without a detailed appraisal.
“It's real. I'm telling you. That thing... just try holding it once...”
“You think a trick like that will work on me?”
“I'm seriously going to lose my mind. Just kill me.”
The orc seemed to have given up. It appeared that not even the terror of healing potions could make this steadfast warrior talk.
Ivan inwardly paid his respects. The amount of healing potion he had poured onto this demi-human's body had already exceeded a lethal dose. (Since healing potions are not poison, the concept of a lethal dose does not apply. They are good for the body.)
*Seriously, he should at least say something that makes sense.*
This artifact, the ‘Eye’ on the end of the staff, had suddenly ordered him to bring an army to this location.
And this artifact provided a route for infiltration, avoiding the notice of the Krasilov military by showing glimpses of the ‘future’?
Did he really think anyone in the world would believe such a story? Especially after enduring all that torture... that ‘rapport-building’ process?
The ‘rapport-building’ process of the Counter-Intelligence Command, especially one conducted by a member of the Annihilation Squad, was not something one could endure with a sane mind.
“Here's what I think, orc.”
“...?”
“Someone in the Krasilov military, or perhaps a high-ranking noble—or maybe multiple nobles—harbors resentment against the royal family. The reason is likely a grudge from the last purge, or a check against royal authority.”
“...?”
Ivan continued, slowly looking down into the orc's eyes.
“In the process, they must have thought of using you as mercenaries. Using humans would leave a trail, but demons would just be targets for subjugation. Even if you were captured and forced to testify, a demon's testimony can't be used as evidence in a human court. How clean.”
“...???”
“But they couldn't possibly attack Pritchenkaya with such a small force, so they must have thought: *we need a bigger army*. But how to bring one in? The answer is simple. Assassinate the children of the Hero's Party.”
“The... the children of the Hero's Party...? Wh-what... does that...???”
*How detestable.*
Ivan frowned, watching the orc attempt the advanced act of ‘lying’. It was even acting quite well, putting on a genuinely wronged expression.
However, a trained agent never judges a situation based on outward emotions.
All matters must be resolved rationally, through common sense and evidence.
“What you didn't know, or... what your employers hid from you, was that my subordinates and I were here. So tell me. Who was it?”
At this point, the orc shaman squeezed his eyes shut and gave up on answering.
Ivan nodded and granted this loyal demon a peaceful end.
-CRUNCH!!
Ivan let the blood-soaked axe hang loose and turned his head.
There were still four living orcs here. He had specifically kidnapped the ones who looked far too strong for Isabelle's party to defeat in their current state.
And in demon society, where strength equals authority, a strong individual was synonymous with a high-ranking one.
In other words, the commander-level individuals of this ‘assault team’ were gathered here. Unlike the other warrior-class orcs, these ones were highly likely to know something.
-Thud!
The headless shaman collapsed into the bushes. At the sound, the gagged orcs flinched in unison.
Ivan walked over to them and spoke.
“One.”
Ivan placed his hand on the gag of the nearest orc.
“Only one needs to live. Just one who can testify.”
“Mmph...! Mmmph...!”
“I want you to live. Do you?”
“Mmph! Mmph!!”
“We'll see.”
Ivan removed the gag as he laid out several completely harmless tools in front of the orc's eyes.
The trousers of the other orcs waiting their turn began to darken.
*
“The Demon King's Eye... you say...?”
“Y-yes! The Demon King's... no, that horned bastard's eyeball, sir! Sir! Master!! Th-that's the artifact it's known as! I-it shows the future...! Yes, yes!!”
“This shows the future.”
“Yes! Yes! That's right!!”
“And it told you to come here.”
“Yes!!”
“The reason?”
“Th-th-that... we also...”
After clearing away the three corpses, Ivan was lost in thought.
If all five of them said the same thing, even after undergoing the ‘rapport-building’ process, it became evidence supporting the information's reliability.
Testimony was like a blurry image; even if its resolution was degraded by torture, layering the same testimony multiple times would eventually improve the overall picture quality.
In short, when the same testimony was gathered from different individuals, it meant they were approaching a ‘believable truth’.
“The Demon King's Eye sees the future.”
It was possible. Though he couldn't understand the principle, if it was *that* ‘Demon King’, seeing the future might well have been within his power.
But for the ones possessing such a grand artifact as the Demon King's Eye to be nothing more than this rabble...
*'No.'*
Individually, each one was at a level that would be slightly challenging but beatable for an average knight.
But these guys succeeded in infiltrating the heart of Krasilov. That was the more important fact. If mere orcs, such idiots with no business in an infiltration operation, had managed to sneak in without being detected by anyone.
If there was no inside collaborator, then it was due to their own skill. These guys might have been an elite unit from an organization called the Orc Infiltration Team.
In fact, if they had encountered Isabelle's party without any interference, they could have easily guaranteed their victory.
*'The stage's difficulty curve is too steep.'*
And Isabelle's party was still too fragile. If he hadn't actively engaged in ‘level design’, they wouldn't have even survived this long.
On top of that.
*'The Demon King's Eye... if this artifact is truly the Demon King's eye. If the dead Demon King can still project some kind of 'will' onto his subordinates.'*
What could he possibly hope to achieve by orchestrating such a complicated and pointless act?
For a moment, Ivan shuddered as a certain ‘common sense’ came to mind.
*'It wanted the main party to grow...?'*
The Demon King. Or whichever demon created that artifact.
It wanted the main party to grow...?
As if it were saying this to Ivan.
*'I'll provide the ingredients. You just prepare them and feed them to the main party.'*
It was as if... as if it had anticipated that Ivan would lead and train the main party. Selecting troops that were just difficult enough to be a challenge, but beatable.
Carefully balancing the numbers, providing enough to account for attrition, yet keeping the force small and elite enough to avoid the notice of the Krasilov military.
Ivan felt a chill run down his spine as he glared at the staff embedded with the ‘Demon King's Eye’.
He pressed a finger behind his ear and whispered.
“Command. This is O1.”
-Command receiving.
“I need a mage capable of curse removal and mental protection.”
-Curse removal, mental protection. Acknowledging situation.
“ETA?”
-Three hours. Can be deployed to Command and Control Center at 2130 hours.
“Copy.”
-Acknowledged.
After the short exchange, Ivan cut the ropes binding the orc.
The orc flinched in terror as Ivan's axe swung through the air, then forced itself to look up.
In the darkness of the forest, with the moonlight behind him, Ivan's expression was hidden.
His piercing blue eyes gleamed from beneath the shadows.
“From now on, you're the boss of this stage.”
“...?”
*