The Old Man's Desperate Gambit
“Hoo.”
I pulled the sword from his pierced throat and casually flicked the blood off onto the floor.
Calm down.
The heart-pounding rush that exploded after victory in a life-or-death fight.
But the battle wasn't over yet.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
One behind me, one to the right. Have they split up?
I focused my hearing to the max, mapping out the situation in my head.
Stick to the right.
I twisted toward the louder sounds, pushing through the smoke.
And there, in the midst of two corpses sprawled on the ground, was Major Eden locked in combat.
“Are you alright, sir?!”
Major Eden was drenched head to toe in blood.
I shouted urgently, but his response was a bit different from what I'd expected.
“Perfect timing. The old man just bolted out of the shop. Hurry and grab him. He's badly wounded, so it shouldn't be too hard.”
The enemy leader had escaped.
This was more serious—and important—than I'd thought.
“Understood. But first, sir...”
“Me? You don't think this blood is mine, do you?”
Major Eden smirked with an enemy right in front of him, looking every bit the devil.
He's... on our side, so it should be fine, right?
I shoved the weird thoughts from my mind and turned.
“You bastard!”
The enemy tried to block me, but as if that would work.
Clang!
Major Eden perfectly cut off the enemy's path—clean and precise.
“Move fast.”
“Yes, sir!!”
I dashed out the memorized shop door to carry out the order.
“This way.”
Blood splattered on the ground.
Judging by the amount, Major Eden was right—he was seriously hurt.
Hurry.
If he got on a horse, this would blow up big time, so I sprinted after the trail at full speed.
It didn't take long.
As expected, the old man's pace was slow, and I spotted him soon enough.
Capture alive, I guess.
No orders to kill or capture, but he was the enemy boss.
And badly wounded.
No need to kill him.
“Stop right there. Drop your weapon and hands up.”
I closed the distance and pointed my sword.
“You filthy Oclo scum!”
Lifelong grit? Or a well-trained trump card?
Whoosh!
The old man pulled a dagger I hadn't seen before and swung at me.
Shit, hold up. That color looks off.
Sensing danger, I skipped the block and leaped back.
“Damn it.”
He looked disappointed.
Probably wanted me to clash blades.
Obviously planning to poison me.
Guy sells toxic herbs, so caution's key.
He's putting up a fight.
Capturing him might be trickier than expected.
I'll try. If not, screw it.
From enlistment day to now.
Naturally, my safety trumps mission success or the Empire's future.
“You don't have much time left anyway. Can't you just come quietly? Don't make a young guy work this hard.”
“Even if it kills me, I'm taking you down with me.”
Ah, what a nasty old prick.
Dragging me— with half a century left—down as his life's grudge ghost?
Couldn't get more spiteful.
Knock him out from behind.
Age might mean he never wakes, but that's his problem.
“You brought this on yourself—no hard feelings.”
Tired, but my muscles still had juice. I closed the gap in a flash.
Whoosh!
Another swing with that vicious poisoned dagger.
Sharp, but honestly, dodgeable.
“Damn it! If I were just a bit younger...”
Blame his old body all he wants—fair.
Probably partied hard in his youth.
Felt it dodging: top-tier skill.
Which makes it suspicious as hell.
These guys reek of Aditz Empire.
No hard proof, but the stench is there.
And, hate to say it, but my nose is bloodhound-level for Aditz scum.
Capture first.
Grabbed from behind, smashed his occiput with the sword hilt before he reacted.
Crack!
Like cracking a walnut.
Should've knocked him out...
“Guh!”
He tanked it...?
I'd worried he'd die outright, not survive.
But now the real problem hit.
“Die with me!”
Clink.
A thin metal rod popped from the old man's chest and hit the ground.
Thicker than a needle.
No soldier wouldn't know what that's for.
Shit.
Realized it and tried to back off, but I knew.
Too late.
Damn it!
Some poison-smuggling punk, hiding something worth this suicide?
Makes no sense, but it happened. Best call: protect my face.
“Urgh!”
Bit my lip hard, crouched low, arms over face.
Pffft.
Heard something weird, but no time to care.
One second, two...
“Huh...?”
Should've blown by now—magic bullet blast.
Eerily quiet.
Did I go painlessly in one shot?
Worst thought flashed, but I'm not that clueless.
“Hm...?!”
Lowered arms cautiously. Unbelievable sight.
“Gah...!”
Long arrow through his gut—the old man was done.
Your merit in eliminating the villain who plagued the Empire has been recognized.
Applause for your dazzling growth.
I sure as hell didn't shoot him.
Dead, right?
System popped, so yeah.
“Can't even handle this mess without freezing up?”
Scanning around in confusion, a sharp voice cut in.
“Who are you?”
Dark clothes, bow in hand.
99% chance she loosed that arrow.
Ally?
Helped me, so ally? Don't get complacent.
Old man's toast anyway—could kill to 'reassure' me then strike.
Always suspect, suspect more.
“I save your ass and this is the attitude? No wonder I hate Intelligence Agency types.”
She scowled, yanked the arrow from the old man's chest ignoring my sword.
“Shouldn't you thank your savior first?”
Round thing on the arrow tip.
Bloody mess, but recognized it instantly.
Arrow through the magic bullet to stop the blast?
Unbelievable skill, even seeing it.
Beyond skill—god-tier.
He triggered it inside his chest pocket—no draw.
Hit it anyway? Insane even spotting it first.
“Th-thank you so much.”
No doubt my lifesaver—I lowered my sword and bowed.
“Where's that Eden bastard anyway?”
“Major Eden, you mean...?”
“What other Eden's there?”
Voice dripping irritation.
Who the hell is this woman?
Casually names Major Eden—not ordinary.
“Fighting inside the shop.”
“In that smoke bomb haze?”
She pointed at the herb shop, white smoke leaking out.
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Fights dirty, doesn't he. Let's go.”
She naturally led me back inside.
“No wonder the smoke stinks—smoking a cig in it.”
Major Eden, cig in mouth amid corpses, battle wrapped.
Brutally violent vibe.
“Late.”
“Late my ass. You think I'm your errand girl? I'm swamped already.”
She's nuts.
Anyone fact-bombed Eden like this before?
Nope. Definitely not.
But I just witnessed it.
Fact-bombing Eden without a second's hesitation.
“What're you so busy with at the palace?”
“You know damn well. Came for your mess. Let's spar—been too long.”
She strode up, grabbing for Eden's hair.
Found myself rooting for her.
Please, just one smack.
Don't need much.
One clean face shot.
That'd satisfy, but Eden dodged quick.
“Temper's worse. Lots to do—calm down first.”
He backed off, stubbed the cig.
Tch, close.
But saw potential today.
Eden could get smacked by someone.
“So why'd you call me? Just grab Intelligence grunts. Or guards if short.”
“Complications. Anyway, open a window. Smells awful.”
Shop reeked of blood, as Eden said.
Creak! Whoosh!
Fresh cold air rushed in as windows opened.
Smoke cleared fully—visibility restored.
“Called HQ?”
Eden nodded at her question.
“Yeah, they'll be here soon.”
“Slacking, huh. Three of you hit this deathtrap? If you wanna die quick, tell me. I can make it painless.”
“I'll pass.”
Eden deadpanned, rummaged the shop.
“Here it is. The poison herb that nearly killed the major.”
Digging a basket, he pulled a black canister.
“This?”
Jar packed with herbs—true to name, utterly scentless.
“Should've kept one alive. All dead? Skills slipped.”
She checked the bodies, shook her head.