Chapter 352
Chapter 352
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Translator: uly
Chapter: 352
Chapter Title: Breaching the Bishops' Stronghold
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A fierce wind brushed against my face. With not a sliver of moonlight to guide us, we had no choice but to rely on magic and the feel of the earth beneath our feet as we ran. Even though we'd laid down soundproofing spells along our path, I couldn't shake the anxiety that the whooshing of the air might reach the enemy's ears.
Running alongside me now were the entire 98th Batch A-Class—including Leo and Mecklenburg, plus the one Holy See divine magic user who'd been assigned to them—as well as Alexandra Schumacher from the 91st Batch A-Class. The rest of the 101st Batch had merged with the 91st Batch A-Class.
Alexandra Schumacher and the others were hanging back at a distance, ready for any attack, while Mecklenburg—who had the most field experience of anyone here—led the way just ahead of me, and Leo kept pace to my left.
I slowed my pace slightly and called back to Alexandra Schumacher, who was following behind.
"Excellency Schumacher. Can you manipulate oxygen separately with your unique ability?"
"Hmm, I'm not well-versed enough in the academic principles behind this power to control it that precisely... but my ability is definitely tied to the gases that make up the atmosphere, especially oxygen. I've accidentally blown up training grounds a few times, so my guess is probably spot on, don't you think?"
Blowing up training grounds? Sounds like quite the headache for her instructors.... The fact that she could generate wind like Adelbert was significant enough that even if she couldn't isolate specific gases, it wouldn't be a huge issue. But if she could, that was all the better. Then, Alexandra Schumacher asked in a serious tone.
"I've caused so many incidents that I rarely use my unique ability. Unless it's a special operation, even my comrades often forget I have it. So how did you know about it?"
"It was in the briefing materials I received beforehand. You need to know everyone's abilities to devise proper strategies."
"His Excellency Hohenzollern's judgment is as sharp as ever."
I flashed a brief smile and picked up my original speed, pushing forward. The distance to those behind us opened up again. Soon, only the sound of the wind accompanied us. After running beside me for a while, Leo murmured softly.
"The wind has been steadily blowing from the north. They'll have predicted we'd target the northern sector of this coordinate grid."
"Exactly."
"What if we'd deliberately gone against the wind direction?"
This wasn't a question. It absolutely wasn't.
Let's think it through step by step. Sure, that's possible. If they had someone with a favorable unique ability, they might act contrary to our predictions. But absent that, there are variables and non-variables. From their perspective, as long as they pull off the stealth successfully, they can crush us outright—so leaking mana into the air to reveal their 'real position' would be pointless. Unless it was a decoy site.
Leo knew this full well. He wasn't the type to overlook what I'd considered. He was just seeking reassurance from me, and I understood why. Having endured the worst already, he had no choice but to guard against every possibility.
"That won't happen. Convinced now?"
"......"
"Your Excellency."
The moment I said that, demanding a response, Leo startled and clapped a hand over his own mouth as he stared at me. I plastered on a soulless smile and promptly shut my mouth.
'...Ah, damn it.'
Right, people really should stick to one identity. It was a relief that Leo's obsession with controlling variables had been properly purged by this fresh shock, but the problem was that the honorific I'd used for him had stuck to my tongue for so long it moved on autopilot. At least it wasn't a catastrophic slip—though no sooner had I thought that than Mecklenburg, who'd been running ahead, leaped back and clapped a hand over my mouth.
"What the—? You...! There's a limit to joking around! How much pranking do you do on a normal basis?! We're talking after we get back!"
"......"
"Squadron Leader?! What the hell...!"
Some of the 98th Batch A-Class running behind us shouted in confusion at his booming voice. He was trying to help, in his own way. Yeah, screaming like that into an artifact—how could it be anything else.... I'd already turned off the transmit function since we had nothing to report to HQ, and he'd done the same; besides, the other six were keeping their distance from us, so they wouldn't have heard anyway. Never mind that overreacting like this just made him look worse, or that my ears were ringing—putting that aside, I appreciated the sentiment. If my slip-up had been serious enough to cause real trouble, I'd have resolved to rewind time myself later. As Leo started glaring at him like he was looking at a madman, I quickly pried his hand off and shot back.
"Just a slip of the tongue, Your Highness Archduke. And everyone—halt right here!"
"...?!"
I'd leverage the fact that there was another person with a similar title. I shoved the extremely flustered Mecklenburg away with a burst of mana, stopped in place, and raised my hand. The mages following us came to a sudden stop. We'd reached a key point, so I reactivated the transmit functions on both artifacts and said to Mecklenburg.
"There, do you sense anything from this spot? Check for people."
"......"
Mecklenburg gave me a look like he was wondering if he'd ever specified the details of his ability's range.
Just because you wield water-based powers doesn't mean you know every nuance of water's properties in all things—but he could definitely distinguish water in the soil from water in trees from water in people. At least, I knew he could. Without voicing his doubts, Mecklenburg quietly touched the ground with his hand.
"No one within 500 meters in any direction from this point."
"Good. Wittelsbach."
"No traps either."
Leo, who'd been channeling mana into the plants, withdrew it from a certain spot and stood.
Perfect—no people, no spells laid in wait. I gazed off toward the low hill in the distance and said.
"For now, we're still a ways off, but we've gotten closer to the forest."
We'd split the northern path into two prongs: we'd take the east, while the 91st Batch A-Class took the other. And the forest lay to the east. That's where we were headed.
Time for some theory. The terrain before us: a marsh with a small stream, open plains, forest. And a sky anything but clear.
For marshes, the best approach is to avoid combat altogether and seek a bypass—they favor the defender. But that doesn't apply much to mages who can erect barriers to cross them.
No terrain offers absolute advantage in battle, and even broad categories spawn varied pros and cons—but this isn't the time to dissect every type, so we'll skip it. Now, the forest. If the defenders have their backs to it, the forest becomes quite advantageous for them. If they have it in front, it's their worst option. If they're inside it, the gains and losses balance out, making it rarely optimal. And if they back right up against it, it's their best choice—smooth for attack, retreat, and resource gathering. Of course, if either side has warpable coordinates, the theory falls apart for mages, defender or attacker.
The Bishopric's goal right now is to buy time without detection until their stamina recovers. Given that this is pre-human-era theory, and mages enjoy far greater mobility than non-mages, their optimal choice seems clear.
[Found them!]
Just then, comms connected from the 91st Batch B-Class.
In other words, doesn't it make exactly where we'd be as bishops glaringly obvious? The Bishopric would garrison the forest—and specifically, its outskirts.
That's why my first order to HQ was to scour every forest in this coordinate grid. We couldn't leave the south unchecked while shifting key personnel north, so I'd redirected the 91st Batch B-Class there for the search.
"Good. Now it's just us. The issue is we're out in the open field, and they didn't bother setting traps because if we push further north from here, they can spot us with their own eyes. Stealth magic has its limits with these tall grasses right now."
No matter how cloudy it is, the forest interior is darker than the field, and the field is brighter than the forest—that's just fact. I said to Leo.
"Wittelsbach. We start from here."
The strategy was already set by the time we arrived. He'd send mana through the ground now and pinpoint the bishops' exact position in the forest.
Leo placed one hand on the earth and raised the other in the air, folding his fingers one by one. 5. 4. 3. 2....
"Reached."
Leo's mana, channeled through the plants, had arrived at the forest. That was the signal. I shouted the pre-calculated coordinates for our jump point.
"Corvignano 795:348:494!"
The moment Leo grabbed my wrist, I opened my eyes some 400 meters from where we'd stood—on ground closer to the forest. A bizarre roar erupted.
Kugugugwang—
A black curtain like molten mud surged skyward from the forest as its origin point, bending inward at the top—I had to crane my neck to see it. The Bishopric was definitely inside that. Ah, so they'd block our entry like this.
[Ten personnel. All ten from the Munich-Freising Bishopric are here.]
Leo's crisp voice came through the artifact. He'd warped me in, then jumped one grid closer himself, slammed his staff into the ground, and counted the mana echoes off the plants from there. Staring at the distant vitriol curtain, I thought fast. Breach it or not. If we punched through into the forest, the vitriol would reform the instant we entered, enveloping it—and we'd be rats in a trap, under a hail of attacks from the Bishopric. Unless we fled to the adjacent grid 200 times expanded—vastly distant—we couldn't survive ten vitriol users. Our options boiled down to 1. get attacked, 2. flee, or 3. wait for the curtain to drop—that is, until the Bishopric evacuated elsewhere. A truly hopeless sight, and they'd drawn exactly this picture... With that in mind, I bellowed.
"Everyone, commence!"
Kwaaaang—
Mecklenburg, who'd been targeting the distant stream, slammed his staff down. The air grew humid, choking my breath. A massive barrier unfurled before us and the ground, and one of the 98th Batch A-Class thrust their wand skyward—a thin beam of light shot up. From the south we hadn't taken, another flare burst faintly. A signal marking the forest's position.
Who needs to know the forest's location in this situation?
Bbaameok—
"...!"
"Ugh!"
Gasps rose around me. A colossal beam dwarfing the wand's light sliced through the pitch-black sky and plunged into the forest. Light exploding not from the ground but the heavens bathed everything in eerie white.
Kururung—Kwa-gugugwang!!
A chill ran down my spine. The earth shuddered. I gritted my teeth, pouring all my power into my staff, absorbing the vibrations through my body. Lightning strike. First time seeing Cheringen's unique ability up close. It lived up to that movie-like impression from before—my instincts screamed in primal fear, sweeping through me. It felt like the electricity was coursing into my legs; I thanked whatever gods that Cheringen's power didn't infuse mana with conductivity alongside the strikes, and shouted.
"Schumacher!"
Kwaaaang—!
The area, darkened again after the lightning, flared bright red. Flames roared up amid the blast, engulfing the trees as embers scattered on the wind every which way. The entire forest was wreathed in fire.
Alexandra Schumacher of the 91st Batch—who'd poised her staff to leap forward—caught her breath and lightly swept her hand across the sky. A gust rushed in from behind right away, no breathing issues at all. Even amid this, the forest plants thrashed wildly.
[Four.]
Leo murmured low. His voice overlapped, carried by both artifact and air. He walked toward me from afar and continued.
[Munich-Freising Bishopric: six of ten remain.]
"......"
Success. Unique abilities aren't exclusive to them.
If they use theirs to make our lives hell, we counter with ours.
The mages around me, tense faces easing as they caught their breath, turned to me. Our eyes met, and their stiff lips slowly curved upward. Someone behind exhaled long and muttered.
"...Four bishops at once...."
"Haha... whew...."
Laughter rippled through. Sorry to kill the mood, but no time to bask in victory. Staring at the blazing forest, I spoke.
"Six out of ten left. The survivors likely have survival-optimized unique abilities."
[Commander!]
Then Narke's voice stabbed into my ear from the opposite flank. It took a moment to register he was calling me, but his next words snapped everyone alert.
[Four bishops incoming from 2 o'clock relative to start point!]
Swallows gulped. Someone gripped their wand tight.
Fine. They'll flee that way.
"Warp coords?"
Pre-calculating grids is basic, but far from easy. About ten seconds later, Narke shouted.
[Corvignano 794:354:495!]
"Everyone, move!"
Kwaaaang—
No sooner had we shifted than a gale battered our heads. Pitch-black vitriol loomed right in front of us.
Chaeng—Kwang—!
I swatted away the vitriol flying from the dark and called to Mecklenburg at my back.
"Let's sync our breathing one more time."