Live Combat
Ten minutes before the battle began.
At an ambush post along the mountain path leading to Primuni Village, the soldiers dispatched by the Council had started talking about someone.
"…Think we'll see them today?"
"Who? Don't tell me you mean Blue Flash."
"Yeah. We haven't seen them around lately."
"Give it a rest. You know perfectly well when that person shows up, and you're still saying crap like that?"
Thomas shot his complaining comrade a look of pure exasperation. It wasn't that he couldn't understand the feeling—he just had zero intention of agreeing with it.
Blue Flash.
A monstrously skilled fighter who wrapped their body in blue lightning, leapt through space as if it were nothing, and swung weapons pulled from who-knew-where with a speed and precision that left onlookers breathless with awe. Whenever the allied forces found themselves in danger, that figure would appear out of nowhere and pull them back from the brink.
No one knew their true identity, but the sheer reliability and raw power on display had captivated nearly everyone stationed here. Thomas was no exception—Blue Flash had saved him from fatal wounds more than once.
That didn't mean he wanted to meet them, though. Running into Blue Flash meant they were already in a life-or-death situation.
An idol was best kept at a carefully measured distance—neither too close nor too far. Thomas had come to fully appreciate that particular piece of wisdom from his grandfather, who had once chased after an idol into a labyrinth and lost an arm for the trouble, the moment he first encountered Blue Flash himself.
"Hey. Stop daydreaming and keep watch properly. The rats have been too quiet lately—it's making me nervous as hell. Fuck, who the hell is in that village that they're going this insane over it?"
It had been four years since the Council secretly deployed troops to Primuni Village, and two years since Thomas himself had been assigned here. When he'd first arrived, assassins had come in groups of about thirty roughly once a week. Now they hit every three or four days, nearly a hundred strong each time.
In exchange, the average skill of the assassins had dropped from at least Navy-rank down to Violet-rank—but being on the defensive made the sheer numbers far more troublesome to deal with. Where the hell did they keep pulling that many bodies from?
Word was that once this year was over—only a few days left now—this whole mess would finally end. That was exactly what made Thomas even more uneasy.
What if the assassins go completely berserk and swarm us in those last few days? What if this quiet is just them preparing for one massive push?
Anxiety clawed up his throat. Thomas bit down on a fingernail without realizing it.
Whether his comrade noticed or not, the man was perfectly at ease, taking a swig from a waterskin he'd secretly filled with beer.
"You think it's a guy or a girl?"
"You lunatic. I told you to stand watch."
"You're not even a little curious?"
"…"
Thomas shut his mouth. It wasn't that he wasn't curious. He just couldn't say so after all the big talk he'd already spouted. Honestly, he was dying to know.
"I think… it's a girl."
Catching the shift in Thomas's expression, his comrade offered up his own theory and casually held out the beer. Thomas accepted it with a show of reluctance.
"Why?"
"During the fight a few days ago, I was in real trouble, remember?"
"Yeah. You tripped over a corpse like an idiot. The squad leader tore you a new one after the battle for still making rookie mistakes."
Thomas snickered under his breath. His comrade, apparently stung, snatched the still-untouched beer back with a rough grab.
"Shut up and listen."
"Fine, fine."
"Anyway—right when an enemy was about to finish me off, Blue Flash appeared between us out of nowhere and saved my life. And in that moment, I caught their scent."
"You absolute freak. You went into heat mid-battle and started sniffing your savior? If the others find out, you're dead that same day."
"I didn't do it on purpose! I just breathed and caught it by accident!"
His comrade raised his voice, then seemed to realize his mistake. Thomas flinched and hurriedly pointed toward the squad leader and the other comrade sleeping behind them, gesturing for him to calm down.
"…You bastard."
"I'm kidding, so cool it. More importantly—what did the scent smell like that got you this worked up?"
Come to think of it, this guy had started singing Blue Flash's praises nonstop ever since that day. For someone who wasn't some pure-hearted virgin—who'd even frequented the high-class brothels of Lemumni—to fall this hard, it couldn't have been any ordinary scent.
"…Sweet as honey. Way sweeter than the Royal Honeybee honey I caught a whiff of once, back when I was hauling ingredients for the Council big shots."
"S-seriously?"
"Yeah. Really sweet."
His comrade's eyes went hazy, clearly lost in the memory of that fragrance. Looking at him, it didn't seem like a lie.
But if their body gave off a scent like that, then Blue Flash's identity had to be…
"An elf?"
"Not likely."
The voice from behind made Thomas nearly jump out of his skin. He spun around.
"S-Squad Leader."
"H-how long have you…"
"Since the moment you started guzzling that beer."
His comrade's face went deathly pale. He shot Thomas a desperate look for help—Thomas carefully avoided meeting his eyes. Why help him? He hadn't even gotten a single sip.
"Enough. Hand it over."
"H-hand what over?"
"You seriously gonna play dumb?"
"…Here."
His comrade handed over the beer with a miserable expression. Was it really that precious?
"Pwah∼. Not bad. Hey, cheer up. I'm only letting this slide because it's beer."
"Yessir∼."
"More importantly, Squad Leader—how can you be so sure Blue Flash isn't an elf?"
At Thomas's question, the squad leader tossed the empty waterskin back at his comrade and answered.
"Four years ago, Blue Flash was barely taller than my waist. Now they come up to my solar plexus. Elves don't grow that fast."
"Wait a second. If they grew that much, then Blue Flash's age is…"
"Fifteen at most. Not late teens. They're still shooting up even now."
In other words, Blue Flash was still in the middle of a growth spurt. The word monster rose unbidden in Thomas's mind.
Huh? Wait a minute.
"Squad Leader—the people the Church dispatched are concentrating their defense on the village church, right?"
"That's right."
"And that church doubles as an orphanage."
"It does."
From the moment he heard those answers, a novel began writing itself inside Thomas's head. A secret weapon raised in a rural village far from prying eyes. Various factions catching wind of its existence and joining forces to eliminate it. A war of killing and protecting, with countless extras dying along the way. Spotting his own face among those extras, Thomas despaired at having been dragged into something so absurd.
Just then—
Ziiing∼
As if to say there was no time for that, the squad leader's communication crystal began to vibrate. Right after—
BOOM!
The sound of destruction that always rang out whenever the village priest—who looked more like a bandit chief than a man of the cloth—went on a rampage echoed through the mountains.
"…Enemies spotted. Everyone, prepare for combat."
At the squad leader's order, Thomas stopped despairing and swiftly readied himself for battle. Part of him wanted to run—to declare he wanted no part of this—but doing so would only get his head removed by the squad leader's hand rather than the enemy's.
"Squad Leader, enemy numbers?"
"Roughly thirty."
"Th-that's it?"
"That's already a huge drop. The other four squads are dealing with similar numbers, and the priest and the hunter are apparently facing close to two hundred."
"Holy shit—that's small-scale territorial war levels!"
Should I just run after all?
He checked for an opening far too late. The moment had already long since passed. Nearly thirty assassins had closed in right under their noses.
The squad leader, Thomas, and their two comrades hurriedly crouched low, suppressing their presence as much as possible. Then, the instant the assassins reached the perfect position for an ambush—
Thwip-thwip-thwip-thwip!
"Gah!"
"Ambush!"
They fired the crossbows they'd loaded in advance. Fortunately, all four bolts struck their intended targets.
"Over there!"
"Kill them!"
The assassins charged, shouting. Not a trace of special ability could be felt from them. Cannon fodder, no doubt—bodies thrown in to pad the numbers. Against Thomas and his squad, all of whom were Blue-rank or higher, they posed no real threat.
Even so, Thomas and his comrades didn't let their guard down. They pressed their backs together and engaged the enemy with careful precision. They had to stay sharp. The real threats would be lurking in the shadows, waiting for an opening.
"Kh!"
"Squad Leader!"
"Forget about me and focus on the enemies in front of you! And be careful—there's a Green-rank hiding among them."
"Like being careful is going to help me dod—ghk!"
Something slammed into Thomas's gut just as he was about to argue. The impact knocked him away from his comrades.
"Thomas!"
At his comrade's urgent shout, Thomas scrambled to collect himself and steady his body. But by then, enemy weapons were already swinging toward him.
"Damn it."
Sensing death, Thomas squeezed his eyes shut. He could only hope the pain wouldn't last long.
"…Huh?"
No matter how much time passed, no pain came. Baffled, Thomas slowly opened his eyes—and found an intoxicatingly sweet fragrance seeping deep into his nose.
Before him, a blue flash of light shone with noble brilliance in the darkness.
As if entranced, Thomas murmured—
"Ugh∼"
At the voice from behind him, Jun let out a small, pained sound. He was under the effects of Mind Control, and still an overwhelming wave of embarrassment crashed over him. If he hadn't been in the middle of a battle, he would have curled into a pretzel from sheer secondhand cringe.
Hehehe. Help me, Blue Flash. Take me, Blue Flash.
Shut up.
Instead of answering, Fortuna—residing within the Stigma—layered various buffs onto Jun. Checking his enhanced physical capabilities, Jun surveyed his surroundings.
Had they sensed something? The cannon fodder who had been hammering away at the barrier like madmen all took a simultaneous step back.
"If you don't want to die, run. I swear to God I won't chase you."
He drew a long spear from subspace as he issued the warning. The fodder merely eyed each other warily—not one of them fled.
"What, no guts?"
With the real threats lurking behind them, watching for any chance to strike, they probably couldn't run even if they wanted to. Jun knew that perfectly well—but he had no reason to accommodate them for it. The warning had only been an attempt to ease the guilt he'd feel afterward, even a little.
Crack! Crackle!
"If you're going to resent someone—resent the ones who sent you here. Resent yourselves for coming so obediently."
Martial Arts — Chidori Style
CRACKLE-CRACKLE-CRACKLE!
"!!!"
The long spear swept in a wide arc. The vivid blue lightning coiled around its shaft surged outward, engulfing the enemies. The cannon fodder collapsed en masse from the shock; the assassins with actual abilities barely managed to stay conscious.
All except one.
"Did you really think I wouldn't find you just standing there?"
"What?"
"There's a green little rat hiding over there. I'll handle that one—you join up with the others and clean up the rest. Everyone still standing is half-fried from the shock, so you should take them down easy."
"Y-yes, sir!"
Leaving behind the soldier who, for some reason, snapped into a formal salute, Jun leapt through space. He reappeared a short distance away. At a glance, no one seemed to be near him. But to someone with a radar, the rat crouching right in front of him was plain as day.
"H-how—"
"Why would I tell you?"
A voice from empty air. Jun thrust his long spear toward that spot.
Clang!
"Ugh!"
The air shimmered, and a dagger shot out from within, batting aside Jun's spear. But it couldn't block the lightning wreathed around the weapon. In this world, Aura only reinforced—it had no capacity to defend against elemental attributes or status effects.
"An ability that cloaks you in darkness, huh. That the only trick you've got?"
"…Don't get cocky."
The assassin snarled, bristling. So he'd hit the mark after all. Handing information to the enemy out of pure inferiority complex—disqualified as an assassin. Jun shook his head and stowed the long spear, drawing Firmus instead.
Apparently taking it as an insult, the assassin charged immediately.
"Who's calling who cocky here?"
Jun kicked off the ground and rushed to meet him. The moment the assassin entered range, Jun swung Firmus in a lightning-fast arc. Trusting his own speed, the assassin kept charging—then barely managed to block the blade that had closed to point-blank range in the blink of an eye, recoiling in shock.
CRACKLE!
"Grzzzzh!"
"You don't even account for the opponent's strength or weapon reach."
Thud!
"Guhhk!"
A clean knee strike. Blood poured from the assassin's mouth in a thick torrent.
"You've thrown away even the basics of how an assassin is supposed to fight."
At Jun's scolding, the assassin finally seemed to come to his senses. He hurriedly put distance between them and flung a throwing knife—or rather, tried to. By the time he collected himself enough to look, Jun was already gone.
"Where—"
Thrust!
"…Puhahk!"
"Coming to your senses this late does you no good. You're already a dead man."
As if those words were a death sentence, the assassin—heart pierced clean through—collapsed lifelessly to the ground.