Irreverence
Irreverence
It was the fifth day of training with the Saintess.
It was Asilie who noticed the anomaly first.
"Eldi. I think we've got a problem."
Even half-asleep, those words were enough to jolt me wide awake, and I flung myself up from my spot in an instant.
The window was still dark. The fireplace had just begun to crackle to life. Asilie's hand was cold—she had clearly geared up and gone out scouting at dawn, then returned.
No matter how groggy my head was from sleep, I could piece together the situation from that much.
"Demon King's Army?"
"I can't say for certain. But there are new traces besides our own, and it doesn't seem like they've left the forest."
Even the time to ask detailed questions felt like a waste. Even if this turned out to be a false alarm, it was better to have overprepared than to get stabbed in the back. I hurriedly geared up, sent Laika and Jagayong toward the ruins, and headed with Asilie to where she said the tracks were.
No conversation was needed. We didn't exchange a single word the moment we stepped out, but since all my tracking skills came from Asilie, we were able to coordinate seamlessly and move to the target point.
Asilie gestured that the trail started here and indicated the next direction, but I shook my head and pointed at my eyes, then at the ground.
The traces of Magic Power were so unmistakable there was no need to check further.
On the battlefields of Levien, it was rare to see magic that left traces this pronounced. No—at least I'd never seen it. Even if these turned out to be traces left by the Human Race, it was still the wiser call to stay on guard first.
We made a quick decision, moved cautiously out of the area to avoid being tracked in return, and only after we were certain no one was following did we carefully head toward the temple. Moving around like this from dawn wasn't exactly pleasant, but if it really was Demonfolk, discovering their traces now was a golden opportunity, and my mood had started to lift slightly.
The sudden tracks and the massive Magic Power signatures most likely meant spatial teleportation. I had no idea where they'd warped from or by what means, but even the most arrogant mage wouldn't be in good shape after dumping that much Magic Power in one go.
Sure, someone like that could exist out there... but I really hoped that kind of bastard was stuck squatting on the front lines. If a guy like that was mixed into a special ops unit like this, I'd be so unfairly screwed I might just die from sheer injustice.
Anyway, under that assumption. Ambushing them now, before they'd fully recovered, would let us gain more of an upper hand. We wouldn't even get to use half the traps I'd laid out everywhere, but it was still better than waiting for a mage of that caliber to fully recover and march on the temple.
Maybe because our bodies were warmed up and we were tense, our steps toward the temple were quick.
Since I'd already briefed them beforehand on what Laika's solo visit meant, by the time we arrived the Saintess and the heresy inquisitors had already completed all preparations and were fully on alert.
When Asilie and I showed up unharmed, they let out relieved sighs but approached with hardened faces and listened closely. After I finished explaining the situation, they wore grave expressions, deliberated and talked it over for a long while, and finally the Saintess spoke as their representative.
"If they used spatial leap magic, they won't be able to cast proper spells for at least a day or two, no matter how short the jump. Moreover, the fact that they left their traces unattended without considering pursuit means they hadn't the slightest expectation that we would be predicting their movements."
Even if they were the enemy, it was hard to call this simple carelessness. If I'd joined up late, or if I at least hadn't heard the story from Jin, we truly would have been stabbed in the back. Calling them idiots for not predicting this would have been far too harsh a judgment.
The Saintess understood that as well, so her words were closer to supplying reasoning to support my proposal of an ambush.
"Therefore, we will follow you, Hero. Command us."
The sight of the heresy inquisitors bowing their heads with such solemn respect was truly reassuring.
◈
The Demonfolk were from the 15th Special Squad.
They were one of the units formed after the original nine squads that had established the Special Operations Command. The teens squads were specialized in combat even within the special forces, and they had only learned espionage and tracking—other requisite competencies—to the level of basic proficiency.
Let those who fight well fight better. Let those who hunt well hunt better.
The higher-ups never demanded more than one thing at a time, so no one bothered to learn beyond that. The prevailing attitude among them was that the twenties squads handled that stuff, and their own job was just to smash into things.
That was the second reason they got ambushed.
The first reason was that they'd taken the 'tunnel' far too lightly.
"Ambush! It's an ambush!"
For the tunnel, four days was a very generous window—enough to spread rumors from one end of Itisel to the other.
Even if their voices were to become echoes that never reached anyone, they were determined to smear shit all over the goddamned bastards who'd fucked over their turf, and they mobilized every possible means and method. The fact that word reached Jin was purely coincidental, but it was also a miracle born of their blood-vomiting efforts.
A miracle so fitting it mirrored the expression: even a bug squirms when you step on it.
"Retribution upon the heretics!"
"Glory to Epaga!"
The special squad members, who had intended to rest as much as possible because they believed their appearance would never be predicted, doubted their own eyes when they saw the heresy inquisitors suddenly charging at full power, shaking the very ground.
The only reason they weren't unilaterally blown apart by that collision, brimming with Divine Power enough to blast away even warhorses, was that they were from the teens.
There was a saying that they could swing a sword even while dozing—the actions that had been etched into their very bones through countless battles and training burst out on their own without any help from their brains, which still hadn't processed the situation, and they instinctively executed the solution of drawing out Magic Power to its limit to block the inquisitors' charge.
But it was by no means favorable. Just as sudden tension makes you perform below your usual ability, this ambush was a painfully costly mistake for them. The vice-captain, whose thoughts had reached that point in an instant, kicked the inquisitor he'd just blocked with all his might, sent him flying far away, and shouted.
"Captain!"
"I've got ears too, you little shit!"
Answering roughly, the captain shook off the displeasure of being ambushed and irritably hurled a hand axe at the inquisitor the vice-captain had kicked away.
He'd thrown it with the full intent of splitting the man's skull, but the inquisitor calmly cast a Holy Art, raised his shield to deflect the axe, and readjusted his stance, and from his mouth a curse erupted as naturally as breathing.
One piece of good fortune amid the bad was that, out of concern for the groaning mage, they had made camp with something cave-like at their backs to shelter him a little more from the wind.
The inquisitor's response alone was enough to gauge his skill. If they had been surrounded, it would have led to the worst-case scenario.
"Truly worthy of those who guard the Saintess's heels!"
It had been a provocation he'd attempted just in case, but the inquisitor merely snorted as if it were beneath contempt. Ha, so that kind of taunt won't work on him?
Just as the captain was feeling that this wouldn't be easy and was about to lunge forward, a heavy mace came flying, aimed straight at his head.
He reflexively pulled another hand axe from his belt and blocked it, but the irresistible force crushed him and sent him flying back the way he'd come. After identifying the one who had practically thrown him, he let out a smirk.
"Well, look who it is. The Saintess herself?"
"Your foul mouth explains a great deal, filthy apostate. You not only fail to serve in repayment for Epaga's grace, but you dare commit blasphemy?"
Her eyes faintly glowing with overflowing Divine Power, Saintess Deoni Bire paid no mind to the two squad members charging at her and simply struck the ground with her mace.
With that one unremarkable action, precisely the ground beneath the two squad members split and shot upward, disrupting their movements. The captain let out a small, admiring whistle at the incredibly precise use of Holy Arts, but Saintess Deoni maintained her icy demeanor and only continued to speak.
"Your sins are not even worth receiving Epaga's judgment. I will shatter even your souls and ensure that She remains unaware that vermin like you ever existed."
"Hahaha! Amusing! Then let's see who dies first, shall we? She's a goddess who keeps her eyes half-closed all the livelong day—think she'll be able to tell your soul from mine?"
As the captain quickly loosened his shoulders and neck and readjusted his stance, he heard the sound of a wyvern flying overhead, but he paid it no mind.
He figured that if he had to be fully alert to face a saintess anyway, some monster suddenly butting in wouldn't be hard to handle—it wasn't even worth worrying about.
He was thinking that and about to lunge forward at any moment.
"Eee!!"
The shout from above his head and the unidentified presence made the captain reflexively look up.
There, in a space where there should have been nothing but an empty blue sky...
"Blasphemer!!!"
For some reason, a member of the Human Race was plummeting straight toward his crown, a heavy two-handed axe raised high.
Why the hell is a member of the Human Race the one saying that...?
The sense of danger that a single mistake could mean instant death swept over him, but instead of his head, which was off having other thoughts, his instincts moved his body.