Chapter 114
Chapter 114
-----------------------------------------------------------------
>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 114
>Chapter Title: The Antlion's Pit
>-----------------------------------------------------------------
*
Andgrund Feint Operation, Day Three.
03:50.
“How much time has passed?”
“Exactly three hours. Are you sure you didn't use an alarm spell? How can a person sleep with a margin of error measured in seconds?”
“Training. Repetition. Mastery.”
Ivan replied as he opened his eyes.
Northern Closed Tunnel No. 12. Since it had no intersections with other tunnels on the map, it was outside the patrol routes. It was quite suitable for a hideout.
Ivan clenched his fists and circulated mana through his muscles, tuning his condition. It felt no different from tightening the strings of a loose instrument.
By controlling his neural acceleration with extreme delicacy, he could induce a forced 'awakened state'. Barring the indispensable sleep required for life, fatigue was nothing more than a sensory disturbance.
Only after completely shaking off the sticky fatigue lingering in his mind did he stand up. Lucia was watching him with worried eyes.
“Shouldn't we rest a little more before we leave...? From today on... you'll be going through hell.”
Lucia trailed off, recalling the mission brief.
The Feint Operation. The core of this plan was that those in charge of each front had to draw the enemy's attention with their maximum capabilities.
The main dwarven force didn't need to try too hard. Simply arming themselves and marching toward the enemy lines would be a sufficient show of force.
But Ivan and Enrique were different. They each had to single-handedly cause a commotion on the same scale as an entire legion.
Enrique, with the 'infamy of the Hero's Party'.
Ivan, with the infamy of the 'Black Spider'.
While Enrique was well-known enough, for Ivan, who was considered a dead man, an ordinary level of combat was nowhere near enough to announce his infamy in enemy territory.
Therefore, Ivan's operation, starting at dawn on the third day, was filled with nothing but combat plans until its conclusion.
“I've rested enough.”
Ivan crunched on the nutrition bar Lucia handed him, swallowed, and silently rolled up his sleeve, extending his arm to her.
For a long moment, Lucia studied the dark circles under Ivan's eyes with a sad expression before finally sighing and muttering.
“Men, I swear.”
-*Crunch.*
Her fangs sank into Ivan's forearm. He felt a tingling pain as his blood was drawn out.
Lucia could replenish her energy with food as well as blood, but in an infiltration mission, the less bulky the combat rations, the better. And as long as one was healthy, blood could always be replenished.
Ivan regulated his mana to constrict his heartbeat and raise his blood pressure. The amount of blood being drawn through his forearm surged.
After the short break, Ivan took a bottle of healing potion from his coat.
“…”
He hesitated for a moment, staring at the transparent glass bottle, then quickly turned his head and twisted off the cap.
A good agent, when necessary, pours a healing potion with their own hands, even onto their own arm. With a sizzling sound, the bleeding wound closed.
“Let's move.”
“Yes… Tell me if you get tired.”
“Quiet.”
“Yes… Senior.”
*
Not even half a day later, a total of 8 outposts, 25 guard posts, and 47 tunnels had fallen silent.
This all occurred in the rear areas north of the northern industrial zone where the Andgrund rebels were headquartered, bordering the outskirts of the Sky Mountains.
Not even the news that the sentries had vanished reached the central command post. This lack of information was like the Black Death, darkening a portion of the tactical map.
The command headquarters, already on edge from the threat of an all-out war brewing in the southern engagement zone, only began to grasp the situation that afternoon, thanks to the news brought by a single dwarf.
“He’s here! He is! He’s come back!”
The sentry, who had run in bleeding from below a severed shoulder, breathed his last after those words.
The command post's question—*So who is this 'he'?*—was answered by another sentry who arrived thirty minutes later.
“He’s… still alive…! At the northern gate… there’s no one left alive at the northern gate…!”
That sentry also died from the blood loss from his severed shoulder.
It took another ten minutes to investigate and realize that the two sentries with the same injury were troops dispatched to Outpost 17, also known as the ‘Northern Fifth Gate.’
An hour to confirm that there were no survivors among the other troops urgently dispatched to Outpost 17.
Another hour for the news of the disappearance of the troops sent to Outpost 15 to arrive.
And finally, after thirty minutes, they realized that all contact had been lost with everyone who had ventured north, outside the city.
Only after the last survivor from a dispatched unit collapsed, foaming at the mouth while crying, “The bodies… the bodies…!”
did the command headquarters of the northern munitions factory zone finally recall a past lesson from a very similar situation.
This tactic of deliberately cutting off intelligence assets, of paralyzing an entire sector so completely that even the loss of information goes unnoticed.
This tactic, which extremely stimulated fear and slowly eroded the enemy's ability to conduct field operations... was strikingly similar to ‘theirs’.
“But they should all be dead…?”
The command staff muttered lowly in their fear. Until they remembered that the first report they had received was, ‘He’s come back.’
“Available forces… what are our available forces?!”
“Excluding the slaves, the entire army has marched to the front lines! There are only engineers left in this city!”
The war wasn't forgiving enough to leave combat troops in the rearmost area, on the complete opposite side of the front.
Staring at the long railway leading from the munitions factory to the front lines, the command staff, though terrified, made the most accurate judgment they could.
“Send a dispatch to the necromancers! Tell them the Black Spider is here!”
“B-but we’re not certain, are we?”
“And if we’re not certain? Are you telling me to wait until we confirm if he's the real Black Spider before sending the dispatch?!”
Only after the dispatch rider had left did the command staff manage to feign composure and successfully gather the engineers of the factory zone.
“The enemy is small in number.”
Of course. For a force of any significant size to pass through the outside of the mountain range and infiltrate the rear was beyond Krasilov's logistical capabilities.
If they had truly wanted an all-out war, there would have been no need to initiate a rear infiltration. They could have simply dispatched the stationed Northern Army to advance alongside Andgrund's forces.
The ones lurking beyond this darkness of information could be no more than a small strike team.
“This isn't something only the Annihilation Squad can do. Get a grip! It means that when a small force infiltrates the rear, this is their only option!”
The information control and isolation they were experiencing was not some special stratagem that only the fearsome Annihilation Squad could pull off.
Rather, it was closer to the fact that even the great Annihilation Squad had no other tactical means to choose from.
Sufficient numbers are, in themselves, a means to shake the very foundations of tactics. Most great strategies and tactics in history begin with deploying 'sufficient numbers' at the 'right time' and 'in their entirety'.
Therefore, for a small strike team to threaten a large force, there is no other solution than a tactic like this one. If one thought about it in reverse, the situation became much simpler.
To clash with a large force head-on and overwhelm the enemy with sheer numbers.
Unless one possessed human resources on the level of the Seven Dragon Generals, above a certain scale, the quantity of troops overwhelms their quality.
So.
“Prepare for a pitched battle. Clear the city outskirts and open the gates. All armed personnel, excluding goblins, are to gather with all available firearms!”
The enemy's specialty lay in 'whittling down' their foes.
And the dwarves' most preferred tactic was 'bunching up so tightly they couldn't be whittled down'.
If they just waited, the necromancers, their eyes bloodshot at the news of the Black Spider's appearance, would arrive. All they had to do was hold out for long enough.
A stratagem, after all, must be countered with standard tactics.
This time, they would kill the Black Spider for sure. The dwarves here stood up, wearing courage like a mask over their fear.
*
Andgrund Feint Operation, Day Four.
13:20.
“Wow…”
Lucia whispered in awe, lying prone at the edge of the cliff.
Countless railings were installed, and stairs stretched between the tunnels that filled the cliff face like a honeycomb.
She could see goblin slaves, each pulling a load, scurrying like ants along the lower levels of the stairs.
*Fwoosh—.* Black smoke billowed up from the depths of the earth. The dwarven munitions factory zone lay below them.
Andgrund is often described as an underground city. This is a common mistake made by those who live on the surface. This wasn't a city; it was a world unto itself.
Unlike humans, who build structures upon the ground, the denizens of the underground have no limits to vertical construction.
No matter how high a tower they built, it could never compare to the dwarves, who excavated the earth to erect their structures. The 'city districts', completed in the era when earth-web excavators were common, each boasted a scale no less than Pritzenkaya.
The tunnels, stretching out like a complex maze, spread from the city district like a kind of root system. In the tunnels where mining was still active, countless goblins swarmed.
The vast underground cavity, the countless other races visible within it, the machinery making deafening noises, the massive rails, and the heat from the factories producing munitions.
Lucia stared down at the scene, her mouth agape, before turning to look at Ivan.
“A-are we really going in there? The-the difference in numbers is a bit... a bit extreme, isn't it?”
“We don't need to fight them all.”
Ivan looked down at the city district and checked his weapons one more time.
The number of dwarves he had slaughtered to get here was already well over several dozen. Enough to be counted in the triple digits. And that was just from dealing with the detachments. The number of dwarves he had intentionally allowed to survive and escape the engagements was about ten, he recalled.
Having sent that many back, the enemy would have realized it by now. That the radio silence near the northern gate was induced by an enemy infiltration team.
“It’s a trap… isn’t it?”
“Mm.”
Ivan's assigned objective for this operation was to assassinate the 'remnants of Aviditas'.
In a situation where he didn't know where they were holed up, the most certain method Ivan could choose was 'grudge'.
The remnants of Aviditas hated Ivan more than anyone else in this world. For he was the one who had killed their master.
So, to those who were likely gathering forces with the intent of desecrating even Ivan's dead body, he would make a sudden declaration.
-I am still alive.
-I am here.
They would never be able to resist. The minions who served the Lord of Desire could never resist this temptation.
Part of the grand strategy was not for Ivan to go to them, but to make them come to Ivan.
And, what was necessary in that process was enough fear to make their rear guard units request support from those necromancers.
That fear would make them cower. Just like now.
“If the odds of victory are certain, a trap can sometimes become an opportunity.”
“…Huh?”
“Setting a trap means gathering all your available forces in one place. Lucia. Stratagems like traps carry a fatal risk if they fail. From their perspective, it's an all-or-nothing gamble.”
In Ivan's eyes, the city of munitions factories looked like a beast that had curled up like a turtle and raised its spines. Growling in fear. Desperately hiding its terror with a show of flamboyant bravery.
If the enemy were scattered, it would have been a problem. Engaging in urban warfare amidst dispersed, ambushing local forces would have been a nightmare for him.
So he had to force them into a 'pitched battle'. The fear his reputation commanded would make that possible.
The tactics the dwarves of that city would choose were not, in fact, of their own volition. Emotions induced by an external will were narrowing their options.
As he had once recalled, encirclement is sometimes a viable tactic even for a small force. If one could control the information the troops on the ground received in real-time to an appropriate degree.
Ivan clicked open his pocket watch and checked the time. By now, Enrique would be in the middle of a full-scale search for the scribe's son.
There were a total of five locations where the scribe's son was presumed to be held captive. Assuming they searched all those sectors, it would take about three days.
The minions of Aviditas could not be annihilated within that time. And at the same time, Enrique's rescue operation could not take place while the minions of Aviditas were still alive.
It was a mission where two agents, operating on opposite sides of the mountain, had to achieve their objectives at the exact same time, without any margin of error.
The difficulty was comparable to running a three-legged race while blindfolded and doing a handstand. But of course, Ivan and Enrique were the kind of people who could do a handstand and walk in unison even while blindfolded.
“Transmit to Enrique. Point C7-A. ‘Antlion's Pit’ has begun. Estimated time of conclusion is seventy-two hours.”
“Yes, Senior. Message sent. Any other orders?”
“Don't fall behind me. Be quiet.”
And, if possible, don't die today.
Ivan swallowed the last words and threw himself off the cliff.
When the minions of Aviditas arrived, facing all of them at once would be next to impossible, even for Ivan.
Therefore, from this point on, he had to reduce the enemy's numbers as much as possible. But at the same time, he had to conserve his strength for the final battle to come.
It was a difficult task.
And it was also something he had done before.
After all, a properly trained agent should not feel burdened by repeating something they have already experienced.
*