Chapter 6
Chapter 6
-----------------------------------------------------------------
>Translator: Lord First
>Chapter: 6
>Chapter Title: Derailment
>-----------------------------------------------------------------
3. Terror Always Happens on the Academy Entrance Train. (4)
*
Hugo, the leader, stared blankly at the magic beacon that had been flashing for some time now.
“Is this thing broken?”
It was an expensive magic beacon he’d gone to great lengths to acquire for their escape, should anything go wrong at Igorvichi Station.
And now, it was blinking with a regular light. Roughly once a minute.
The distress signal was supposed to be three consecutive presses. That way, an accidental press wouldn't send the wrong signal.
But the beacon was flashing just once, every single time. It had to be broken.
“Damn it, this thing was expensive!”
“Heh heh, don’t you worry, boss. We’ll make all that money back anyway.”
“Where are the boys?”
“They’re in position, sir. Just finished planting the explosives. Soon as the train arrives, we blow it, rush in, clean out the cargo car, and pull out. All in all, shouldn’t take more than fifteen minutes, tops!”
“Good. Oh, here comes the train. Everyone, get ready!”
“Yeah!”
In the distance, the train chugged toward them, spewing steam. It was thirty minutes from Igorvichi Station. On foot, the journey would take a little over an hour.
That meant even if the train was derailed, they had a comfortable two-hour window before any support troops could arrive.
“Blow it!!”
Hugo turned his head and yelled.
-KABOOM!
The explosives planted on the tracks detonated in unison, shaking the very earth.
With a deafening screech, the train slammed on its brakes before slowly beginning to tip over, off the rails.
“Go! Get everything!!”
“Waaaaaah! We’re rich!!”
He’d heard that the train's cargo hold was packed solid with gold bars. Once they melted them down to remove the royal seal and circulated them on the black market, how much would that be worth?
Hugo chuckled, gave the malfunctioning, blinking beacon one last look, and shoved it into his pocket.
He made a mental note to have a serious word with the damn wizard who sold it to him.
*
-KRA-KABOOOOOM!!
-SCREEEEEECH- CRUNCH!!
The train derailed, twisting as it toppled over.
Ivan, perched atop a tree, watched from a distance before turning his gaze.
One man who looked like the commander, another who seemed to be his second-in-command.
>And about three others around them.
‘About ten of them headed for the train.’
He’d been told there were about fifteen in total, so the numbers added up.
Ivan leaped from the tree, drawing his pistol as he landed.
-BANG-!
“!!!”
“!?”
A commotion erupted in the distance as the bandits all hit the dirt or scrambled for cover behind trees.
Including the one who took the first bullet to the head, none of the five possessed ‘Killing Intent Detection.’
Against experts who had reached a certain level, projectile weapons were useless.
This was why the Hero's Party had no archer. The moment a firearm was discharged, a ‘master’ could sense the killing intent woven into the bullet.
Imbuing a weapon in hand with mana to erase such killing intent was basic. But that control was lost the moment a bullet or arrow left the user’s grasp.
Therefore, masters never took cover. They would use that time to launch themselves toward the sound of the gunshot and eliminate their opponent. Being startled by gunfire was a luxury reserved for the weak.
That was why the Annihilation Squad carried pistols. Not only could they gauge an opponent's strength, but few weapons were better for dispatching weaker foes in minor skirmishes.
“Who the hell is out there?!”
The one shouting his head off was the commander. He needed to be kept alive. He might have valuable information.
Therefore, there was no reason to spare the others.
Ivan stepped out from behind the tree and took a single step toward them.
“Shoot! Shoot!!”
-Rat-tat-tat!!
Lines of fire crisscrossed chaotically. Strolling through the hail of bullets, Ivan calmly reloaded his pistol.
*Click.* The moment he heard the round chamber, he fired.
-BANG-!
“Guh-aaack?!”
One down.
Another *click.* The sound of a bullet springing from the magazine into the chamber.
-BANG-!
Another one.
Again, *click, BANG. Click, BANG-!*
With every shot, another line of fire vanished.
Trained agents, even if they hadn't mastered ‘Killing Intent Detection,’ would never expose their bodies to fire.
But these men, who had clearly never received such training, popped out and began spraying bullets the moment they confirmed Ivan was alone.
This was the result. A difference in training, a difference in experience, a difference in talent.
Four corpses, each with a bullet hole in their forehead, and one large, trembling man.
“You, you…!!”
The man’s face contorted as he dropped his gun and drew a sword.
Not a bad choice. A gun is useless if its bullets can’t hit their mark.
“Who… who sent you?! Huh?! What kind of son of a…!”
-BANG-!
-Clang!
The moment he drew his sword, Ivan shot the flat of the blade. The impact made the man drop the hilt and stumble back, clutching his wrist.
Having felt the overwhelming difference in skill, the man’s face went pale as he began to tremble.
“Are you good at remembering faces?”
“Huh…? Y-Yeah! You, I’ve got your face memorized!! Just you wait! I’ll….”
“Good. You’ll need to start remembering things very carefully from now on.”
Ivan had no expectation of learning the identity of the mastermind behind the train attack from this man.
An organization capable of orchestrating something like this wouldn't leave such an obvious trail.
Therefore, he would start with physical descriptions. Anything, no matter how trivial, that could serve as a clue.
Their gait, their demeanor, the clothes they were wearing at the time.
Any noticeable tattoos or accessories, if they had them.
Even their accent and tone of voice.
“If you remember anything, speak.”
Ivan said in a low voice as he drew his axe.
He had no intention of killing him. This man was probably the tutorial boss, and that was a prize for the protagonist.
But there was no harm in injuring him. And Ivan knew countless ways to inflict pain without impairing a person’s ‘functions.’
9:35 AM.
Ten minutes after the train attack began.
Mission to thwart the perpetrators: Success!
*
“Oww…!!”
Esidis clutched her forehead, groaning. She couldn't get her bearings.
Her father's vassals had booked the entire first-class car, so there was no one around to ask what had happened.
She shook her head vigorously and staggered to her feet.
“Ugh?”
She was standing on the window. The seat she had been dozing in just moments ago was now lying lengthwise beside her.
This was a train. Train seats couldn't lie on their sides. Therefore, she finally pieced together the fact that the train had flipped over.
“Ugh, it hurts… Hello? Is anyone there-?”
She groaned, looking around. She could hear the thud of running feet and loud chatter, but not the terrified screams of passengers one would expect after a train crash.
In that case, this was… this was.
“Bandits!!”
Esidis gasped, covering her mouth. She had heard that bandits sometimes attacked trains, but it wasn't a common occurrence, was it? Besides, what was there to gain from a train like this…!
“No, wait! I’m here!!”
Esidis flinched and curled into a ball.
In most situations, this would be simple narcissism, but surprisingly, in this particular incident, Esidis’s assessment was correct.
“What do I do, what do I do…!”
She had yelled at everyone not to follow her, threatening to disown anyone who did, so she was completely alone.
Feeling her mind go blank, Esidis frantically hugged her instrument case.
Thankfully, even with the train flipping over, her violin was unharmed.
“Thank goodness! Oh, I was so worried you’d be broken….”
With a gentle touch, she opened the case and carefully stroked the violin.
Then, she gripped the violin's neck tightly and held it upside down.
Like a steel pipe. No, like an ‘axe.’
It is said that to a musician, their instrument is like their life.
What this meant was that Esidis was now resolved to fight by swinging her own life around.
The ‘Strongest Music Student in History,’ her life on the line, now entering the fray to resolve the train terror incident!
*
Long before the Droan Kingdom was unified by Great King Einar.
>And even before the Demon King emerged to threaten all of humanity.
Until then, the Droan Kingdom had endured a warring states period, overrun by tribal chieftains known as ‘Yarls.’
This crazed band of killers, who carved a sea of blood and mountains of corpses with axe, sword, and tongue (the last primarily used to offer kind regards to their enemies’ mothers), had a peculiar class among them.
The Yarl's vassals. Huscarls.
The Huscarl class is often equated with the ‘knight’ class of other nations, but there are distinct differences.
Unlike knights, who establish a bilateral contractual relationship with their lord, Huscarls are bound solely by loyalty and ability.
Knights are rewarded with salary and land, but the only reward for a Huscarl is ‘loyalty’ itself. They neither receive nor expect compensation beyond minor spoils of war and their keep.
This means they are accepted as ‘brothers’ even without blood ties, eating at the same table, in the same house, and sleeping under the same roof. (This does not imply they share in nighttime activities.)
And Great King Einar had many such ‘younger brothers.’
“Hah… Hah…!!”
A middle-aged man was panting at the edge of the woods.
The man stared at the overturned train in the distance and let out a horrified cry.
“Which rotten bastards did this to my niiiiiiiiiiece!!”
His niece, dearer to him than his own eyes, was on that train!!
The man roared ferociously and broke into a sprint once more.
*
‘If I see anyone following me, I’ll really disown you!’
When Esidis had said those words to Einar, he, being a great warrior of Droan, had managed to solve this riddle.
‘Aha, so I just have to make sure she doesn’t see them!’
All his trusted men adored Esidis as their own niece, so no matter how well they disguised themselves, they would inevitably be spotted on the same train.
But putting them on the next train was too late, given his worries about her traveling across the border alone.
Once again, Great King Einar, a truly great warrior of Droan, brilliantly solved the puzzle.
‘Aha, so they just have to be able to keep up with the train!’
Thus, Great King Einar gathered his ‘brothers’ and asked with solemn dignity.
“Who wants to protect our Essie? Hands up.”
“BROOOOTHER!!! SEND ME!!!”
“Who’s a true warrior that can keep up with a train on two legs? Hands up.”
“RIGHT HERE, BROTHER!!!”
The great Huscarls of Droan all shot their hands into the air, letting out guttural roars.
These muscle-bound men in their forties were screaming with their mouths wide open like baby birds begging for food.
Gazing fondly at the bizarre scene, Great King Einar asked gravely.
“Alright, now only those who can get into Yansk University keep your hands up.”
“…!!”
Yansk University had a difficult entrance exam. While they were confident they could pass any practical test or interview, the Huscarls judged the written exam to be beyond them, and their hands dropped one by one. (They felt no shame. Knowledge is not considered a warrior's virtue.)
But one man, amidst the silence, kept his hand raised.
“From now on, you are a Phys Ed freshman.”
“Yes, Brother!! I will protect Essie with my life!!”
“Good. Go, my brother.”
“Yes, Brother!!!”
That was two months ago. This man, who had secretly infiltrated Krasilov in November when the Yansk University entrance exams were held, surprisingly passed the written portion and was accepted into the College of Physical Education. (Meaning he barely scraped by on the minimum score and then set a new record in the practical evaluation.)
Sadly, Saint Yansk University had no age limit for admission….
And now, on a day in January, a man who had run for two days straight without rest or sleep to follow the train skidded to a halt, panting.
Having spotted the derailed train with his naked eye from two kilometers away, the man began to charge forward, smashing through every tree in his direct path.
The Strongest Phys Ed Student in History, now rushing the scene of the train terror incident to save the Strongest Music Student in History!
*