Chapter 43
Chapter 43
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 43
>Chapter Title: Night's Terror
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*
I extended my mana, spreading it evenly through every nerve.
I held my breath, tuning the sensation of mana flowing through my blood vessels.
-Click.
A sense I wouldn't normally perceive awakened. The segmentation of time, the tip of my index finger pulling the trigger, even the faint friction of the spring coiling inside the gun—I could sense it all.
This was the battlefield of superhumans.
-BANG—!
The shot rang out. I opened my eyes at the same moment.
The flame bursting from the muzzle flashed, illuminating the dark tunnel for an instant.
This was why I had heightened my senses: to prevent the sudden burst of light from blinding my dark-adapted optic nerves.
My eyes stung from the stimulation, but it was fine. I was used to this much.
The silhouettes of three figures were imprinted on my retinas like afterimages.
"A gun! There's someone else!"
"Dammit, where were they hiding?!"
The figure leaning against the wall was Oskar. The two short figures walking slowly from deeper in the tunnel were dwarves.
I confirmed a spark fly near one dwarf's head the moment I fired.
*They're wearing standard-issue dwarf infantry gear.*
I immediately shifted my aim and ran forward.
"He's coming! Get ready!"
The dwarf in the lead shrieked. Judging by the afterimage still lingering on my retina, this one was armed with a two-handed axe.
Standard dwarf infantry gear meant ridiculously thick plate armor that covered the entire body like a golem's. It was heavy, grotesque equipment that most attacks wouldn't even scratch.
Aside from a few weak points like the eye slits and joints, it offered almost absolute defense against external blows.
*Which is why I use a sword.*
That was the reason I didn't carry an axe. No matter how hard you swung an axe, you couldn't even dent their armor. These people had once survived being buried under a mountain range during a past war.
They had endured the crushing weight of massive rocks thanks to the sturdiness of their armor.
A martial art had been developed specifically to deal with them.
-Screech!
"Hah! Human! Not a chance!"
The blade scraped against the surface of the plate armor, sending sparks flying. As the sword was deflected, I heard the long whoosh of something cutting through the air.
-Swoosh!
Instantly sensing its direction and speed, I ducked. A large axe blade sliced through the air right above my head.
Letting it pass, I raised my left hand and fired again.
-BANG—!!
This time, I shot at the other dwarf behind this one. The muzzle flashed, and I saw him again.
His stance, his balance, the weak points in his armor, the smirk on his face, even the gray beard that grew long beneath his chin.
I immediately straightened my sword and stabbed forward swiftly.
-Clang!!
"You bastard!"
I heard the dwarf's roar. A precise strike aimed squarely at a joint—a level of accuracy unbelievable to have achieved in the darkness.
But this wasn't enough. The dwarf thought so, and swung his axe again.
-Swoosh—!
Dodge again, then *clang*. I struck the same spot. It was a mechanical repetition of this process.
The armor's weak points were the joints, reinforced with chainmail and gambeson. While they provided sufficient protection against swords on their own, they weren't strong enough to block the strike of a superhuman.
So, *clang* again!
"This technique…! Were you on the battlefield ten years ago?"
"Is that all?"
The answer slipped out before I knew it. I let out a wry smile. The Kim Seon-woo inside me had screamed that it had been twenty years.
Regardless of my feelings, my hands did what they had to do.
-BANG—!
Another shot. I secured a momentary glimpse of my surroundings, took a step back to avoid the approaching dwarf, and swung my sword. *Clang*, I severed the chain.
The one who had first devised this technique was none other than me. Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Petrovich. Back then, I was a captain.
The name of this technique was the 'Dwarf Skinner'.
"Grrr…!!"
*Clang, clank!*
Finally, his pauldron was torn off. As the impact sent my blade flying upward, I naturally released the hilt and immediately reached for my waist.
It didn't even take a full breath to draw a dagger from its sheath and plunge it into his exposed shoulder.
-Thwack!
"Guaaaargh!!"
A shoulder wound is fatal for a warrior. It's no different from losing an arm. The movements of the dwarf with the two-handed axe became noticeably sluggish.
But there were two enemies. The other dwarf warrior finally closed in and swung his weapon.
"Stop!!"
-Swoosh—!!
I dodged the weapon again and raised the pistol in my left hand. This time, I aimed precisely, steadied my breath, and fired.
-BANG—!
"Guaaaaargh!!"
One precise shot aimed at the hilt of the dagger embedded in his shoulder. The dagger was sent flying, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel. The dwarf, his shoulder forcibly torn open, screamed and collapsed.
Now, I spun around to reposition myself. As I holstered the pistol and drew another dagger from my waist…
-Swoosh.
The sword I had first tossed into the air was just beginning to fall. I snatched the hilt in mid-air and swung again.
-Clang!
I began to use the 'Skinner' on the newly arrived dwarf. In this moment where I dissected breath and time.
Like a whirlwind, I drove the blade in, twisting to peel off the armor, one layer at a time.
With the precision of a surgeon performing an operation. Meticulously. Stitch by stitch.
In the pitch-black darkness, against two dwarves who possessed night vision. Using both hands simultaneously.
Dismantling their respective armors, plunging daggers into their exposed flesh, tossing my sword into the air, firing my pistol, then catching the falling sword and swinging it again.
*
"What… is this…"
Oskar's jaw dropped as he swallowed a groan.
Just moments ago, he had resolved to fight for his life and die without shame to his knighthood.
Now, a monster had appeared before his very eyes and was slaughtering the unknown enemies.
"The sounds… they almost overlap."
This was beyond common sense. The sounds of the sword strikes were almost overlapping. It meant the interval between each strike was extremely short.
How was such movement even possible? Oskar laughed in disbelief.
*If that man were my attacker, I'd have no choice but to die.*
The battle was over in an instant. The unknown man, who had charged in the moment the first gunshot was heard, returned amidst the thick smell of blood before two breaths were over.
"Can you see anything, by any chance?"
Humans don't have night vision. Only races like dwarves or demons possessed it. So, the question was also asking if he was human.
"You don't need to see to be able to fight."
"Ha…"
"Is your leg injured?"
"Yes, shamefully, it was broken when I was caught in the landslide."
"You have the bead, I assume?"
"Yes."
"Then wait here quietly. Don't make a sound."
The man turned and walked away. Oskar quickly raised his head.
"Wait! Just a moment! May I at least have your name?"
"Ivan Petrovich."
"Where… where are you going? If I can help, I will!"
"A student should focus on his studies."
Oskar heard the man chuckle in the darkness.
His departing footsteps stopped, then crunched back toward him. A hand came to rest on Oskar's head.
"I never liked your father, but it seems he succeeded in raising his son. Oskar, son of Gilles Vert. Your actions were admirable."
"…You know my father?"
"If that bastard hasn't forgotten me yet, we're friends."
The man turned and left again. This time, he didn't look back, just walked on in silence.
Toward somewhere beyond the tunnel, his rhythmic footsteps gradually faded away.
*
Isabelle sat quietly in the darkness.
Fortunately, she had landed without any serious injuries, but she wasn't foolish enough to move recklessly in a place where she couldn't see.
"The test will be canceled, right? I won't fail because of this, will I?"
That was her only concern. It felt like four hours had already passed, but she had no way of knowing how much time had actually gone by.
-Thump, thump.
Isabelle's head shot up. She heard footsteps.
*Has the rescue team finally arrived?* Isabelle jumped to her feet and shouted.
"Over here! Someone's here!"
"What's your name?"
"Isabelle! Wait, are you rescuing people based on their names?!"
"Found her! Target acquired!! Get the captain!"
"Huh?"
*Target? Captain?*
Isabelle's mind reeled as she froze in shock.
The sudden collapse of the ground, the rush of earth, and a cave where she couldn't see an inch in front of her.
And now, 'target,' 'captain.' Could it be…?
"Seriously! I'm so sick of this!"
Again! Another terrorist attack in this forest, and it was aimed at her.
How many people had been caught up in this? How many had been sacrificed?
Isabelle gritted her teeth.
Hearing them say they found the target, and the fact that they appeared long after she fell into the trap, meant this was no small incident involving just one or two people.
Soon, the sound of heavy footsteps filled the entire cavern.
-Thump, thump, thump.
A group was approaching her. Silently, without a single murmur.
*Trained soldiers. And they must have 'night vision' or an equivalent spell cast on them. They'd need at least that much to move as a group in this dark cave.*
Isabelle raised her sword. Her eyes burned with fury.
She was done with others sacrificing themselves for her.
She was sick of living with the guilt for those who had died.
So, to unleash this directionless rage, she took a deep breath.
"I am Isabelle, daughter of Maximilian and Marie, a knight of Tilles. State your names!"
"Such spirit, indeed."
A heavy voice echoed from the distance.
"3rd Battalion, 'Webmaker' Engineering Corps, directly under the 5th Dragon General. I am Senior Captain Astuk. In your terms, yes. That would be a Commander of a Thousand."
The moment she heard that, Isabelle thought of the centurion, Aiphelos. The demon officer Ivan had taken in.
The fight against him had been a true battle of life and death. If his rank was centurion, and assuming the demons' hierarchy was based on strength…
*He's stronger than that man was.*
Isabelle clenched her jaw. A commander of a thousand might not be exactly ten times stronger than a centurion, but it was clear the difference in power would be significant.
And he wasn't alone. A group was approaching with him.
Furthermore, her vision was extremely limited. No, it wasn't limited; she couldn't see a thing.
*Am I really going to die like this…?*
She felt no fear. The moment she took up a sword, hadn't she always expected death?
She thought of her father. Maximilian would not have shown fear in a situation like this.
Therefore, she must not show fear of death, at least not in front of demons.
She was a knight of Tilles. And the Hero's daughter. The price for the many privileges she had enjoyed did not include the right to feel fear.
There was only duty. The duty to remain composed even in the face of death.
"Come. I, Isabelle of Tilles, will die standing today!"
"…Comrade. How old did you say that girl was?"
"Yes, Captain-Comrade! The little one is twenty this year!"
"Change of plans. She must be killed. We cannot afford to leave any future threats."
Any demon of a chiliarch's rank remembered the Hero's Party. Even if they had never faced them directly, to demons, the Hero was the personification of 'death'.
*Encounter them, and you die. Get close, and you die. Fail to flee the moment you hear rumors of them, and you die.*
They were a veritable force of nature. And an unpredictable one at that. The Hero's Party's movements were a top-secret matter of the highest classification in the Allied Kingdoms, so they had always 'raided' enemy territory.
No matter how many tracking parties were sent, none ever returned. They had been utterly meticulous in concealing their location.
The Hero's Party, which had reigned as the demons' terror, eventually slew the Demon King. And the war ended. Unfortunately for the demons, this meant they never had a chance to overcome their 'Hero trauma'.
Therefore, this little girl, displaying a bravery impossible for her age.
She had to be killed. They must take her head and return.
They had to show their comrades back home that even a 'symbol of fear' could not escape death….
"Fine, then. Try and kill me. A knight of Tilles does not fall alone!"
Isabelle wanted to run. She wanted to collapse. She was just a girl who had barely turned twenty.
But she couldn't.
Not when she thought of the many people who had died in the train terror attack, and of her peers who were caught up in this current attack.
She had no right to despair in the face of her own death.
*That is one small regret, though.*
She definitely regretted not being able to go on a date with the old man. Thinking about it now, the feelings she had when she thought of him were clearly more than just fondness.
So, it was a shame. She could have expressed herself more.
*
-Tsk, tsk, tsk.
"…?"
A rhythmic sound came from beyond the cave.
*Tsk, tsk.* A short, sharp noise made by rubbing the tongue against the front teeth.
What was that sound? Astuk narrowed his eyes, thinking. This sound, echoing in the tense silence just before battle. It was somehow familiar.
It was as if he had heard it somewhere before….
*A rhythmic tongue-clicking sound…? A human, using echolocation?!*
The moment the memory surfaced, a series of assumptions followed.
*There is only one human group skilled enough to use echolocation in combat.*
*That group was secretly trained by the Krasilov monarchy during the last war.*
*And this is Krasilov…*
Astuk flinched in shock and tightened his grip on his weapon.
If the Hero's Party was the personification of the fear of death, then…
'That group' was the personification of the 'terror of the night,' entities that made even demons with night vision fear the dark.
The assassins trained with all her might by Enrique the Shadowblade.
For them, the questions of 'when,' 'where,' and 'how' were meaningless.
Literally, they were the ones who completed their objectives 'whenever,' 'wherever,' and 'however,' then vanished like shadows in the night.
"The Annihilation Squad!! Those cursed things are still around?! Comrades, raise your weapons! Be on your guard!"
-Tsk, tsk, tsk….
The rhythmic noise echoed through the cave, then abruptly stopped.
A heavy silence descended upon the surroundings. The dwarves, who had seemed ready to charge at any moment, now formed a shield wall, hunkering down defensively.
Isabelle swallowed hard and looked around. She couldn't see anything, but she could tell that the enemy's demeanor had changed.
*Annihilation Squad…? What is that…?*
She had never heard the name before. But it seemed to be famous among them. Their mood, which had been as calm as a stroll through the neighborhood, had instantly frozen and become sharp-edged.
And then.
-Click-clack.
With the heavy sound of metal parts grinding together.
-BANG—!
There was light.
*