Chapter 38
Chapter 38
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 38
>Chapter Title: A Lesson in Ambush (2)
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*
The Annihilation Squad’s training for responding to ambushes follows a varied curriculum.
For instance, how to react to killing intent.
Or, the optimal response after successfully detecting a line of fire.
Assessing the terrain, analyzing the number of enemies and their armaments. Numerous other field doctrines remain from countless tales of valor.
But in the end, the training Ivan had prepared for Isabelle was singular. The simplest, most fundamental principle of all.
[Ambush until they respond.]
Therefore, Ivan now sat in a tree, quietly raising his rifle.
Isabelle came into view beyond the sights. She still looked as confident as ever, with no thought of taking cover.
-Click.
He lined up the sights, then shifted his aim just before pulling the trigger.
-Tang!
The problem with a newly blossomed sense for lines of fire is the inability to fully trust it.
Detecting a line of fire is, after all, a sense close to a sixth sense. If swayed by sight and sound, a proper reaction is impossible.
“Aah!”
“…Wrong.”
Ivan sighed as he watched Isabelle scream in the distance and hastily duck her head.
Even though the shot was clearly off-target, Isabelle had tried to dodge. It threw off her balance, leaving her exposed.
-Click, Tang—!!
Seizing the opening, he took aim right between her eyes this time and fired.
Isabelle, who barely managed to dodge, stared at the bullet hole in the tree and trembled.
“Live rounds! You’re shooting at my head! Really?!”
Then she opened her eyes. A piercing blue gaze, blazing with light, stared precisely at the spot where Ivan was hiding.
‘She’s getting better.’
Like any reasonable instructor, Ivan felt a sense of pride and nodded.
He quickly vacated his hiding spot.
*
“Haha, ahaha. I’m really going to kill him.”
Isabelle walked on, trembling, her hand gripping the hilt of her sword tightly.
A live round to the head…?
Was I a little excited because he said we’d train in the forest where ‘that incident’ happened?
Was I happy because he readily agreed to help, dropping everything else, even though I asked so suddenly?
Yeah, it’s all my fault.
I thought we’d swing swords a few times, he’d smile, give me some feedback…
Maybe reminisce about what happened that day.
I even prepared some sandwiches to share when we did, put on my favorite outfit, and even bothered with makeup I rarely wear at the palace.
Yep.
I’m a complete and utter fool.
-Click.
She gripped the hilt tighter and took another step forward.
-Shing.
Drawing her sword, she glanced at the cold, sharp blade, then held it in a quiet but firm grasp.
-Tang—!
>-Clang!
She perfectly bisected the line of fire and deflected the bullet.
“You’re… you’re… dead! You are!!”
The Hero’s righteous fury ignited. She deflected every incoming bullet and charged straight toward the direction the shots were coming from.
Because where there are bullets, there must be a shooter.
Bullets don’t matter if they don’t hit you. So really, just once.
I’ll just land one hit. That was her thought.
*
That is what she must be thinking.
Ivan, quietly retreating, watched Isabelle charge toward him.
Finding an agent perfectly concealed within the forest’s shadows is an arduous task. Even with the ability to detect lines of fire, nothing changes.
Since there is always a shooter at the end of the line of fire, one must assume the shooter is well aware of that fact.
“Time for the second lesson.”
Being an excellent instructor, Ivan finished preparing his considerate lesson.
Charging forward while brandishing a sword in a blind rage was, of course, impressive in its ferocity, but it was by no means a good choice.
He decided to teach her that it was the worst possible choice, especially in an ‘ambush’ situation.
-BOOOOOM!!
Ivan watched Isabelle step on a booby trap and get caught in the explosion, and a faint smile touched his lips.
*
“Alright.”
Isabelle, having narrowly avoided the blast, brushed off the dirt that had rained down on her and grinned.
“No, I’m definitely killing him.”
Just one hit? Such a naive thought had created this situation.
She was reminded once again that she had to be completely serious when dealing with this madman. Without even looking, Isabelle deflected an incoming bullet.
“Do you understand now why I said the forest is more difficult?”
A perfectly calm voice reached her ears.
*Grind.* Her grip on the sword hilt tightened.
“Sewers or tunnels take the form of linear mazes. Artificial structures have their own distinct patterns. This means there are fixed points where one can set traps or launch an ambush.”
The lesson continued. Of course, they were precious words of advice that would be of great help to her.
“But a forest possesses multiple features simultaneously. It offers easy concealment and cover, with countless places to set traps, making them nearly impossible to detect beforehand. Since it functions like a non-linear maze, it’s also easier to guide a target’s path of movement.”
This was the principle behind using a small force to encircle a larger one.
Contrary to common misconception, encirclement, on a tactical level, is the act of restricting information. The encirclement itself doesn’t need to be dense, nor does the assault need to be fierce.
A few well-timed exchanges are sufficient. The basis of encirclement is to force the opponent to misjudge while holding an informational advantage.
-Countless enemies are hiding beyond those woods.
>-Approaching those woods will lead to an assault.
>-There are no allies beyond those woods.
The moment such misjudgments accumulate and crack the field commander’s leadership, the encirclement by the few is complete.
Ivan continued speaking quietly, then suddenly stopped.
Isabelle was trembling, her head bowed.
“Mister.”
>“Hm?”
>“Hoo… Thank you. My head feels clearer now.”
>“…Hm?”
Isabelle looked up with a vibrant smile, her eyes on the spot where she thought he was.
Considering the direction of the sound and the direction from which she’d sensed the line of fire, it had to be over here.
She nodded and raised her sword.
-Take up your sword.
-Take up your sword not for your strength, but for your virtue.
-Look upon those like us through the eyes of the weak.
“Yes, I will.”
As if mesmerized, Isabelle gripped her sword and took a stance. A brilliant blue mana swirled around her, its sparkling light illuminating the dark forest.
A refreshing breeze swept through the late spring woods.
“Don’t move!!”
>“Oh.”
Ivan’s eyes gleamed as he watched her. The structure of her mana, the way it circulated—it was different, but… somehow, the sheer force of it reminded him of Maximilian.
He might have had more of a talent for teaching than he’d thought. (An educator’s quality is, after all, determined by their student’s achievements.)
Ivan nodded readily and lowered his rifle.
Isabelle’s senses had fully blossomed. At this level, deceptive double shots meant to fool her line-of-fire detection would no longer work.
She had reached the state of accelerating her nerves with mana, honing her entire body’s reaction speed to its absolute limit. She had reached the threshold of what was known as the ‘Battleground of Superhumans.’
For those who reached this point, projectile weapons were no longer effective. Their ability to sense lines of fire developed to a level nearing premonition.
Therefore.
-Shing….
He raised his axe.
*
“I’m… really… gonna… kill… you…”
On the train back to Fritzenkaya, Ivan looked down at the sleeping Isabelle and smiled.
Though she was disheveled with dirt, minor cuts, and tattered clothes, she looked rather noble. Her golden hair, spread out like a wheat field, shimmered under the moonlight pouring through the window.
With soft, even breaths, Isabelle slept with her head buried in his shoulder, looking just like a small child her age.
“Maximilian.”
Each time the train rattled along the tracks, Ivan gently steadied Isabelle’s swaying head and whispered.
“You’ve raised a fine daughter.”
*
-You’ve raised a fine daughter.
Isabelle squeezed the hand hidden in her sleeve, forcing her lips to stay shut as a smile threatened to break free.
She carefully, so as not to be noticed, pressed her cheek against his broad shoulder.
*Clatter, clatter.* The train ran along the tracks.
The warm air inside the car flowed gently. When she stealthily opened her eyes, the dim interior came into faint view.
Moonlight poured in through the window. In the distance, the forest where they had trained today stretched out before her.
He was a fool who knew nothing of romance or common sense, a madman who covered his handsome face with a beard.
But still, still. It was bearable. After all, he was the one who had saved her life. Just that much. Not some rash affection, but really, just that.
Common sense can be taught, and the beard can be trimmed someday.
Right. Yes.
It’s like I’m shaping a person. If not for me, who would take in this pitiful man? This is… a Hero’s spirit of ‘service.’ That’s what it is.
*
The 7th Engineer Platoon, 12th Company, 3rd Battalion, under the command of the Fifth Dragon General. This was a unit with a long history and glorious tradition from a bygone era.
They cracked their whips to urge on their slaves, then quietly raised their binoculars.
“Why the hell were they fighting?”
>“A difference of opinion, Comrade!”
>“Do you, Comrade, settle your differences of opinion by setting off explosives and firing bullets?”
>“No, Comrade!”
Because of the target’s unexpected visit and the ensuing battle, three of their ambush points had collapsed, foundations and all. Ah, when the great Fifth Dragon General, His Excellency, was alive, there was no such shoddy construction! The platoon leader was disappointed.
When most X-leaders are disappointed, they tend to look for the problem within their own unit.
And in most cases, that attempt always yields the appropriate effect. The beautiful culture of ‘love flowing downwards’ was common to all armies, even those of demons and dwarves.
“The Shadowblade’s little game is in one week, Comrades. Rebuild the collapsed strongpoints and make sure all preparations are complete!”
>“Yes, Comrade!!”
A dwarf with a gray beard snapped a salute and trudged away.
Dwarves are masters of civil engineering. Civil engineering includes the excavation of underground tunnels. And according to the law of syllogism, the following proposition is true.
Wherever there is ground, a dwarf can hide.
This is why Ivan called them rats.
A week before Enrique’s test, Fritzenkaya remained as peaceful as ever.
*