Unsettling Omen (9)
"Hrk…!"
After lightly dodging the sword swung toward the scarf around his neck, Kalyos Schmidt struck his opponent's abdomen with the butt of his favored spear. With a sound like air rushing out, the student collapsed and stopped moving. Kalyos looked down at the figure who had struggled until the very end with an irritated gaze. If this had been an honorable one-on-one duel or a teaching moment as an instructor guiding a junior, he might have praised the opponent's grit and tenacity. Unfortunately, the situation left no room for such leisure.
"Enemy Third Division eliminated! Fifteen allied mages and eighty-seven soldiers remaining!"
Even the adjutant's rapid report only fueled his anger. Eliminated? What was so praiseworthy about taking down just one of five divisions?
"Some are injured, but with emergency treatment they can return to the front—"
"Enough. Does this look like the time for leisurely work like that?" Kalyos cut the adjutant off and issued orders. "If either the Fourth or Fifth Division falls, it's over. Those with enough stamina and mana left will come with me to reinforce them. The rest follow from the rear. Leave anyone who can't move. They can receive treatment after the battle ends. Move!"
"Yes, sir!"
Excluding those with leg injuries or critically low mana, a vanguard of twelve formed around Kalyos. As he sprinted, cutting through the wind, impatience drove him to increase his speed. He could sense his subordinates struggling to keep up, but now was not the time to worry about that.
Both the First and Second Divisions still had plenty of soldiers when their commanders were taken out. Likely a surprise attack by a small guerrilla unit—elite students gathered into a special strike force. By simple distance, Kalyos himself should have been the next target, yet no reinforcements had arrived while he annihilated one academy unit. That meant the enemy strike force had ignored him and moved straight for the Fourth and Fifth Division commanders.
As predicted, separate from the front where mana flashes, explosions, and shouts raged, he spotted a group approaching the battle site. Eight people. Their pace was fast, but not fast enough to escape him. Realizing they would be caught, they halted and attacked—exactly what Kalyos wanted.
The first to strike were two arrows. Both arrowheads and shafts were steel, glowing with red mana. He ducked to avoid one and smashed the other aside with a mana-infused strike, erasing the spell within. Whether magic formulas or martial reinforcement, both ultimately relied on mana. If one understood how to channel mana into weapons, this was nothing difficult.
Following the arrows, two mages—a man and a woman—began casting, but they were too slow. Kalyos leaped forward even faster, and the spheres of fire and ice sliced harmlessly through empty air.
Next came a heavily armored greatsword wielder. Though startled by the tremendous strength when their weapons met, Kalyos responded instantly. He deflected the blow meant to send him flying with the shaft of his spear and slashed the opponent's right shoulder. Even thick armor and the white mana barrier proved useless against his strike that could cut steel. As muscle tore, the arm holding the greatsword went limp, leaving the upper body exposed.
"Uwooooh!"
A young man in academy robes blocked Kalyos's finishing blow with a roar. It was a crude, technique-less body slam relying purely on momentum and power. The strange appearance and seemingly desperate charge made Kalyos try to respond lightly—until an impact far beyond expectation slammed into him.
"Hup!"
It felt like being hit by a massive boar. The force numbed his right hand even though he blocked it. Another arrow flew toward his face, grazing his cheek this time. Glancing at the blond boy aiming a crossbow at him, Kalyos calmly assessed the enemy force.
So this is why the other division commanders fell.
Each attack carried considerable power, and their coordination was decent. The greatsword wielder, whose arm Kalyos had injured to prevent proper swings, had already recovered and was adjusting his stance. Behind him, a silver-haired girl emitted white light, healing her allies' wounds. At a glance, it looked as if Kalyos's attacks had been undone. But time was on his side.
"General!"
"You're late."
His subordinates, who had fallen behind, finally caught up. With the numbers reversed, the tide of battle shifted rapidly. Despite the priestess's desperate healing, students dropped one after another. A faint smile appeared on Kalyos's lips.
These were undoubtedly the academy's trump card. If he rendered them all incapable of fighting here, the only remaining threat would be the princess. And even the princess could not turn the tide alone.
After the academy-robed youth, who had stubbornly endured with his sturdy body, finally collapsed, Kalyos thrust his spear at the last remaining blond boy. The opponent, wearing an incongruous monocle on the battlefield, seemed to have given up. He lowered his head and muttered something.
"…now. Still…"
Has he lost his mind? How pathetic, and this isn't even a real war.
He had heard that many of the academy students fought with remarkable tenacity, but apparently some were like this. Convinced once again that the military, not the academy, should lead the fight against the demon race, Kalyos raised his spear to strike—
—when his vision suddenly wavered. It was the same dizziness one felt after pushing the body to its absolute limit for a long time. Confusion gave way to doubt, which turned into disbelief. Him, Kalyos Schmidt, glorious commander of the empire's Southern Army, feeling dizzy after a few exchanges with these brats? Impossible.
And if something impossible had occurred, there had to be another cause.
"—Now."
A single word, spoken softly, reached only Kalyos's exceptionally sharp ears. In that instant, he understood everything.
Poison!
Almost on instinct, he swung his spear and tried to circulate mana through his body to expel the toxin, but everything was far too late.
From a spot slightly away, hidden in the bushes, Ligret rose. In her hand was a throwing spear summoned by Feldous's Summoning Gloves. Her extremely flexible body transmitted every ounce of power from the ground, and the spear she released became a flash of light.
Whoosh!
"Aaaagh!"
"General!"
When the subordinates turned toward Kalyos at his scream, his scarf and right shoulder had already been pierced through. As they tried to counterattack, a sharp whistle echoed from the sky.
At this moment, all five tokens belonging to the Southern Army commanders have been destroyed. Therefore, the exercise is hereby concluded. I repeat: the exercise has ended. All personnel currently engaged in combat, cease all actions—
The Southern Army soldiers stared blankly at the sky. Grendel and Crowe gazed at the scarf fragments in their hands. The academy students looked at one another in surprise before shouting almost simultaneously.
"We wonnnnn!"
"No one touches my day off!"
"Waaaaah!"
The spectators were just as excited, though they did not shout as openly as the students.
"My eyes aren't playing tricks on me, are they?"
"Hah! I thought winning even one engagement would be impressive enough."
"This exceeds all expectations. I finally understand His Majesty's profound intentions."
It was only natural. A mere half-year. Yes, at most half a year. Students who had trained for only that short time had defeated the empire's regular army—and not just defeated them, but in a manner far exceeding the established criteria. It was an extraordinary achievement, solid proof that even those who had privately questioned the academy's very existence could no longer ignore.
"…Ahem."
"Well now."
The military officials, however, could not look pleased. The Southern Army personnel looked as though they had bitten into something foul, while members of other units stared at them with pity yet appeared equally uncomfortable. No matter that the Southern Army was considered the weakest among the imperial forces or that the battle had various restrictions on formations, troop types, and strategies—people would only remember one thing: "The Imperial Army lost to the academy."
Even if the defeat belonged to the Southern Army alone, the other armies' prestige would suffer as well. Their grim expressions were only natural.
Clap, clap, clap.
The one applauding was the Crown Prince, who spoke with a deeply moved expression.
"Remarkable! Truly remarkable! I am ashamed of my own poor judgment for predicting their defeat before it began!"
"Y-Your Highness, how could you say such a thing? This is surely a matter of fortune, not a reflection of Your Highness's capabilities."
At the official's words, Crown Prince Leon wore an incredulous look.
"Do you truly believe this outcome was mere luck? No, it is entirely different. What we witnessed today is the empire's future."
"That is…"
Leaving the bewildered official behind, Leon continued.
"I would like to adjust the schedule slightly. I need to meet with the academy students."