Strip Them All
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Thud-thud-thud!
The instant the barrier fell, the cadets of Class A slammed their feet into the earth as one. Their charge was a gale — raw, violent, and blisteringly fast. Wind pressure and residual mana churned in their wake. Dust trailed behind them like afterimages. The thick weeds underfoot were crushed without mercy.
Leon led them over the rolling slopes at a breakneck pace. Per the plan, reaching the target zone early was everything. Class A became a single black line streaking across Eledor — veering around or cutting down any monsters that blocked their path, vaulting over gorges and rivers outright, and cleanly ignoring the countless field monsters in the zones they passed through.
And so, without planting a single flag, Class A arrived at the Central Zone faster than any other class.
Shff-shff-shff!
Light, agile footsteps. Twenty-five people moved through the undergrowth, leaving only the faintest whisper of leaves in their wake.
"This way."
Lucen glanced at the map and gestured to the Class I cadets. Summoned at the far northeastern edge, they were heading for the Central Zone as previously agreed with the other allied class representatives.
Of course, they hadn't come empty-handed. Along the way, they had planted flags in three Grade-3 zones and one Grade-2 zone. The routes passed through those areas anyway, and the field monsters guarding them were weak enough that clearing them barely cost any time. The points that accumulated every minute would play a major role in determining final rankings — so snatching up zones early was essential.
They were all archers, too. And for a bowman, agility was the foremost virtue. Not a single cadet in Class I lacked confidence in their Light Body Technique. Across the entire Martial Arts Division, they took it as a given that no class could match them for speed.
Perhaps that was why, after deliberation, they had decided to claim one of the six Grade-1 zones that made up the Central Zone in advance.
Zone 1-C.
A highland plateau ringed by crumbling stone walls. The fortress itself was little more than ruins, but the remaining watchtowers made it the highest vantage point in all of Eledor — the kind of ground that would make any archer's eyes light up. High elevation and open sightlines were an archer's ideal conditions. Being a Grade-1 zone on top of that, they intended to use it as a stronghold for the battles to come.
If we take that place first, we start with an overwhelming advantage. We can keep the other allied teams in check, too.
Lucen exhaled through his mask. Like him, every Class I cadet wore a black face covering that rose to the bridge of the nose — a magical tool acquired from the Grade-2 zone, designed to ease breathing. That was the system: the first team to claim a zone received combat gear to aid them, and the higher the zone's grade, the better the equipment. It was one of the reasons occupying a Grade-1 zone mattered so much, risk and all.
They pressed on for some time.
"Once we crest that ridge, the fortress will come into view."
Lucen pointed ahead with his index finger. At the edge of a forest dense with spindly trees, a horizontal ridgeline cut across their vision like a screen. The cadets ratcheted up their tension and quickened their pace in silence.
Cresting the ridge, a long slope unfurled before them. Above it stretched a broad highland plateau, half-collapsed walls framing towers that jutted up like broken teeth.
"There it is…"
"The field monster's inside the walls, then?"
The cadets sharpened their eyesight with mana and peered across the plateau. A Grade-1 zone would house a powerful monster, and they meant to size up the enemy in advance.
Then—
—KYAAAAAAAK!!
A rending roar split the air, and a massive, scale-armored bulk flashed past a gap in the ruined walls. Of course, every cadet present had the eyesight to catch that fleeting glimpse.
"Hmm. A wyvern."
"A two-headed variant, at that."
"Taking it down's going to take over ten minutes."
They began hashing out a plan of attack even as they launched themselves up the hillside in a rapid ascent — utterly unaware of what awaited them there.
Twenty minutes later.
"The eyes! Aim for the eyes!"
"Which idiot keeps shooting its back?! That's carapace — it doesn't work!"
Ssssshhhhhk—!
"Venom spit!"
"Damn it! Team Two, fall back!"
Shouts, curses, and mana-charged arrows flew without pause. Masked archers scrambled over the fortress walls in a chaotic melee. Class I was locked in a hard fight.
The field monster of Zone 1-C was a two-headed mutant wyvern — and a thoroughly irritating opponent. Its carapace-plated wings and back deflected arrowheads. Its long, thick necks and tail lashed in every direction like whips. From its massive jaws it sprayed venom and snapped at the cadets with razor teeth. Having two heads made everything worse: twice as much to kill, twice as much attacking them.
Without the breathing masks and the mobility-boosting boots, there would almost certainly have been casualties.
Still, the battle was nearly over. The sheer number of arrows buried in the wyvern's heads made that clear enough.
"KYAAAAAAAAAK!!!"
The wyvern, nearly spent, shrieked and thrashed in desperation.
"Stay focused to the end!"
The Class I cadets gritted their teeth and loosed their bowstrings without flinching. Multicolored trails carved gentle arcs through the air and slammed into the beast.
Thud-thud-thud! Thud-thud-thud-thud!
Blood erupted like a fountain, soaking the ground.
"Kyaaaak…"
The strength drained from the wyvern's voice. One head sagged, unable to lift itself properly.
"We've almost got it!"
Lucen shouted, a flicker of excitement in his voice. He reached back, drew three arrows, and nocked them together. With a sharp zeeeek, he hauled the string to its limit, released a whirlwind of mana, and let fly.
Fwaang—!
The spinning arrows fanned out in a crescent—
Crunch!
"KEEEEEEK!!"
—and buried themselves dead-center in three of the wyvern's eyes. The finishing blow. The massive body toppled slowly, then settled onto the earth. The corpse turned to ash-gray light and began to fade.
"Ohhh! Finally!"
"That's our Lucen!"
The Class I cadets gave him a round of thumbs-up. Ranked tenth overall, his skill was the best in Class I. Lucen smiled sheepishly and approached the vanishing corpse to check the flag and gear it had dropped.
"Wonder what's inside?"
"After a fight that hard, it's gotta be something good, right?"
"We busted our asses for this…"
Sweat-soaked cadets caught their breath as they gathered around the summoned silver chest. The hard-won victory had left their bodies and minds slightly slack, their senses dulled. Every scrap of attention was fixed on the box in front of them.
…And perhaps that was why they failed to notice the presence quietly approaching from behind.
"Well then. Let's open it."
Lucen slung his bow across his back, crouched, and set his hand on the chest.
Click.
"…Bracelets?"
Slightly broad-banded bracelets engraved with golden circuits. Lucen picked one up and read the description sheet.
"Hmm. Increased mana circulation rate. Increased mana recovery rate. Protective barrier usable three times…"
"Not bad."
"Yes, this is a solid artifact for a Grade-1."
"How does the barrier work?"
"A blue shield forms around the body. If it breaks, it regenerates over ten minutes."
"Ah."
"I'll try one o—…?!?!"
Only then did Lucen realize the voice beside him was terribly unfamiliar — and that the surroundings had gone far too quiet.
"…"
Creak. Creak.
He turned his head with a grinding, mechanical slowness—
"Hi there."
—and found a red-eyed boy grinning from ear to ear.
"Leon…!"
—Thwack!
A cold, hard wind swept through the broken walls of the highland plateau. Clear sunlight fractured into jagged pieces across the chaotic grounds. Class A cadets stood scattered about, scabbards in hand. Class I cadets lay sprawled everywhere, knocked cold from blows to the back of the head or the nape of the neck.
"I can't believe they actually came here…"
Class A had been lying in wait long before Class I arrived at Zone 1-C. They had watched the entire wyvern fight play out, then swooped in for the spoils.
"Leon, how the hell did you know?"
Carotin asked, still marveling. The other Class A cadets looked equally stunned.
"Would a sparrow just fly past a mill…"
Leon muttered the proverb that had floated up from somewhere in his memory, nudging the unconscious cadets with his foot.
"What does that even mean?"
Leon shrugged.
"Eh, I wasn't certain. I just figured there was a high chance they'd come here."
In the original story, Class I had spent the entire day dug in at this very spot — and frankly, the place any archer would salivate over was obvious.
"Anyway."
The way Leon casually licked his lips was startlingly reminiscent of Hera. He grinned and delivered the order.
"Strip them all."
"…?!"
"Clothes included. Everything."