Chapter 44
Chapter 44
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>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 44
>Chapter Title: An Attack is Bound to Happen (8)
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*
Dwarves have dark vision. It was hardly surprising, as they were a race that lived cooped up underground.
Though it didn't mean they could see through the darkness as if it were broad daylight, they could still perceive objects with relative clarity in the gloom.
Thus, Astuk could see the approaching man.
‘…A tall dwarf?’
Astuk was thrown into confusion!
*
“Isabelle.”
“Ah, Mister?!! How did you get here...?!”
“Are you hurt?”
Ivan strode over and stood beside Isabelle. He clicked his tongue briefly before placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Yes! Yes, I'm… I'm fine!”
“That's a relief. Then stay right here and don't move.”
VIP protection was part of the Annihilation Squad's basic training, but that didn't guarantee perfect safety in the dark.
Keeping track of the protectee's location before a fierce battle was crucial.
Of course, Ivan was an extremely efficient man, so he didn't consider how his words might sound.
*I've seen this before... It's just like in a romance novel!*
Isabelle's eyes spun. The tension snapped, and she let out a sigh.
Her legs trembled. Fear washed over her belatedly. It might have been the suspension bridge effect, but she couldn't help but rely on the man who had appeared in the face of death.
And on top of that, his words: "Stay right there."
It was like a knight in a story, telling her to wait for him until he returned from slaying an ancient dragon.
*This is a confession. Ha, honestly. How troublesome... I suppose it can't be helped. It wouldn't do to accept right away, so, yes. I'll start by asking if he's free this weekend. As a reward.*
Isabelle was thrown into confusion!
*
A pistol in his left hand, a longsword in his right. Five daggers on his belt and an axe slung across his back.
After a quick check of his armament, Ivan walked forward slowly.
*They're afraid.* Ivan took a low breath.
Living creatures share several common signs. The mechanism of hormones is one of them.
Physical enhancement through mana and the extreme increase in the efficiency of the nervous system bring about various chain reactions. Among them is the amplification of each sensory organ.
Take the sense of smell, for example. It becomes possible to capture even the faintest scents drifting in the air.
Therefore, one can even detect the volatile body odor produced by evaporating sweat. In the realm of superhumans, this is a very important indicator.
Because you can read your opponent's emotions.
The word "hormone" doesn't yet exist in this primitive, pre-modern society, but the structure of a person is the same, so their body odor changes subtly with their emotions.
This becomes a physical indicator that reveals emotions like 'killing intent,' 'fear,' or 'affection.'
Cortisol, secreted when a living being feels fear. This unique scent was seeping thickly from among the dwarves.
“Are you afraid?”
“Bullshit!”
Astuk gritted his teeth. The man was alone.
War is ultimately a battle of morale; if you lose momentum, it's hard to even put up a fight.
He was instinctively classifying his fight with Ivan as a 'war.' He tried to ignore that fact as he raised his weapon.
“Annihilation Squad. You cursed bastards... I will kill you and honor the souls of my fallen comrades!”
“That's what they all say.”
Astuk needed a moment to understand those words.
*They all say that?*
A sudden chill ran down his spine.
It was. A calm confession that he had heard such words many times before, and that he had killed all of them.
With grave eyes, Astuk raised his axe. In unison with his movement, everyone in the shield wall raised their weapons.
*Clank, clank.*
The heavy sound of scraping metal echoed through the tunnel.
*Ah, how nostalgic.*
The memory of a past battlefield, facing a dwarven shield wall in a mine tunnel.
It was during the Mining War.
Ivan thought as he raised his sword. A narrow, indoor space with limited visibility, dwarves filling the entire passage. A terrifying shield wall impervious to axes or bullets.
Back then, he hadn't been alone. Other squad members were always by his side to support him.
Now they were gone. Ivan readjusted his grip on the sword, a thick sense of loss washing over him.
However, these dwarves were not the army of those days. At most, there were thirty-odd of them. A small infantry unit of no more than fifty, even by a generous count.
And he was not the Captain Ivan Petrovich of those days.
Ten years had passed since the Mining War.
Ivan had accumulated ten years' worth of experience.
*
-BANG—!!
It began with a gunshot. The purpose was to threaten and secure his vision simultaneously.
In a slow-motion perception of time, where space itself seemed to warp and segment, Ivan charged.
A stationary dwarven shield wall is like a tortoise. Solid, stubborn, and slow. Therefore, the tactical layer had to be speed.
“He's coming!!”
A terrified voice echoed in the tunnel. It was a familiar occurrence.
Dwarves were usually part of the demon army's rear infiltration units, and that type of operation was the most suitable environment for the Annihilation Squad.
Thus, during the war, the Annihilation Squad was always named as the single unit that had killed the most dwarves.
-CLANG!
A sword strike for a greeting. This direct downward slash was a feint. Before the one at the very front could even react, he lightly struck the dwarf's pauldron.
The dwarf's weapon thrust out instantly. Hearing only the sound of it cutting through the air, Ivan twisted his body to dodge.
He closed his eyes and counted the seconds. Ivan was precisely counting his steps.
86 centimeters per stride. Isabelle was five steps behind him.
Seven steps to reach the leader of the shield wall. The width of the formation was thirteen steps.
The range in which he could operate was seventeen steps.
-CLANG!!
Dodging the various weapons that rained down on him in an instant, he pressed in. Once.
*Clang, scraaape!* The noise of him shoving his longsword under the elbow of the dwarf in front.
*Clank, clank.* The grinding sound of the heavily armored dwarves' movements interlocking.
Beneath his closed eyelids, the images of the dwarves seared onto his retinas at the moment of the gunshot began to distort.
He diagrammed and analyzed each surrounding noise, correcting the dwarves' positions and postures in real-time.
“You monster!!”
He heard that cry just as he 'peeled' one dwarf's shell and sliced his forearm.
*A monster.* Ridiculous. Ivan knew the battles of real 'monsters.'
-CRUNCH!
Ignoring the terrible scream of the dwarf whose arm he'd severed, he spun his body and moved two and a half steps to the side.
He plunged a dagger into the gap in the neck armor of a dwarf who had just raised his arm to swing an axe, then took another step and a half to the right.
-SCRAPE!
The next one was thrusting with a war hammer. He let the heavy sound of its passage flow past his head, lowered his stance, and drove his longsword in.
*Crack.* The longsword, its edge already precariously chipped, broke.
He had expected it. From the moment the fight began, he had felt the blade chipping away through the sensation in his fingertips.
So he didn't panic. Ivan was used to this level of durability.
“He dropped his weapon!!”
No, he let it go.
Ivan ducked his head and took two steps to the side. An axe lay precisely at his feet. The weapon dropped by the first dwarf whose arm he had cut.
The moment he picked it up, he twisted his waist to evade the next attack and raised his left hand.
Aim, align breath, fire.
-BANG—!!
“Gaaaargh!!”
The broken longsword was still embedded like a fang in the gap of one dwarf's armor. A precise, pinpoint shot. Like a hammer striking a chisel, the dwarf's chest exploded.
He threw the pistol into the air and ran forward. He snatched the war hammer the dwarf had dropped with his left hand and twisted his body.
One hand up, the other to the side.
And then, crossing them perfectly, he brought them down.
-CRASH!!
The moment the dropped axe embedded itself in a dwarf's helmet, the flawlessly swung hammer smashed into his head.
As the dwarf's body went limp and he staggered, Ivan threw the hammer and caught the pistol in mid-air.
Without aiming, straight ahead, toward the commander five steps away.
Fire.
-BANG—!!
This time, he opened his eyes. The state of the battle came into view once more. As the pistol's muzzle flash faded, he closed his eyes again and pictured the now-deformed shield wall in his mind.
The noise of the battlefield, the scent of the dwarves, their positions engraved beneath his retinas. The sensation of wind brushing his cheeks.
The battlefield of superhumans, between one breath and the next.
*Ah, how nostalgic.*
Ivan ran, savoring the thought once more.
The human body is fragile. It can be neutralized by a dagger less than three inches long.
Close-quarters combat is always a crossroads of life and death, where one's life is on the line.
In the midst of it, in a clearly disadvantageous situation, in the heart of the enemy's formation.
He had lived forgetting this sensation of charging toward the enemy's heart. For four years since the last battle, there hadn't been a situation that could even be called combat.
So, on this familiar battlefield, Ivan was even feeling a sort of nostalgia.
Ivan was a very objective person, so he thought of himself as broken.
And that was a feeling that stood out even more in daily life. Among ordinary people laughing and chatting, he even felt a sense of alienation.
So, here. In this moment where life flickered in and out of existence. He could be someone who was needed.
He was still living in the war. While despising the battlefield, while yearning for a normal life. While longing for home.
Sensing the scent of his missed comrades, Ivan counted his steps.
Now, one step.
86 centimeters ahead lay the enemy's 'head.'
*
What was one supposed to feel when faced with a madman who faintly smiled while 'slaughtering' his comrades?
With every breath, his comrades fell one by one.
*Block him, kill him, no! Don't! My arm! Aaargh!*
In the midst of it all, the screams didn't last more than a syllable. On that battlefield where only death rattles echoed.
The madman from the Annihilation Squad continued his 'work' silently, without a word.
Shattered armor flew overhead. Torn limbs and drops of blood scattered through the air.
He was a storm. A form of disaster that no individual could resist.
Literally raging, raising his weapon, gripping it, charging.
And finally. Even when he was suddenly right before his eyes.
The man's breathing was no different from the beginning.
“I... I am Senior Captain Astuk... of the 3rd Battalion 'Webmaker' Combat Engineer Corps, under the direct command of the 5th Dragon General. What is your name...!”
“Ivan Petrovich.”
“...Ha...”
Astuk nodded.
*I heard he was dead.*
Right. So it was. He was alive. If that was the reason he could barge in at the most precise moment, in this very forest of all places, then it made sense.
“That beard. Are you copying us?”
“...?”
For the first time, Ivan's face twisted.
Ivan was an exceedingly cold-headed man, but he would never stand for an insult to the late king.
Instead of answering, he swung the axe held by a nameless soldier.
*
“You can move now.”
“I think my legs have given out.”
Isabelle smiled as she heard the sound of Ivan's heavy footsteps approaching.
It was a battle where you could feel the intensity just from the sounds. Even just standing still right behind him, it felt as though the heat of the fierce fight had reached her.
Honestly, he was overwhelming.
She stretched out her arms and said.
“Carry me on your back.”
Since her legs had given out, carrying her was better than waiting for her to be able to walk.
Ivan was an efficient man, so he offered his back without a word.
Soon, a pair of warm hands wrapped around the nape of his neck.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“You went through a lot.”
“I did.”
“Today might be a bit much, but would it be okay if I treated you to dinner tomorrow?”
Ivan was currently an undercover agent for the Counter-Intelligence Command.
He was a man of integrity, so he did not improperly acquire money or goods from his protectee.
“No.”
“Eh?”
*