Field Battle (2)

As the distance closed, the battlefield came into view at a glance.

From the moment Myeolgong killed the priestess, SSA's grief squad had already opened hostilities.

Starting a fight was their choice. Ending one was not.

While the civilian party put up a fierce resistance, I began my own intrusion onto the field.

The distance shrank in an instant. The moment I cut down a fleeing priest, a flurry of whispers hit my ear—so frantic they were riddled with typos.

"Sorry. I'm a little busy right now. Funny enough, I had something to say too—want to talk again in four hours?"

"Tell me next time you log in!"

No matter how hard I flew or scrambled, I only had one body.

Being good at fighting and turning a profit on the New Continent were two entirely separate problems. Improving efficiency meant a shift in mindset.

In other words—a food chain of sorts.

Each guild's grief squads hunted regular players and pocketed the gold. So I chose to hunt those grief squads and sweep the money up all at once.

Up ahead, a paladin with a shield planted himself in my path.

Pouring out sacred light that somehow didn't suit him at all—SSA's core fighter. The grief squad's leader: DongjakStationAgent.

"Hey. Long time no see."

"You crazy bitch! Does it have to be like this?"

"Spitting on a smiling face. How uncultured."

He used to main a sword—looked like he'd switched weapons. Specced up for the New Continent, apparently. At this rate, there was no counting how many people he'd cleaned out.

His pockets seemed flush, which put me in a lighter mood.

I drove a dagger into the wrist that was trying to crush my shoulder. The angle wasn't right to sever the artery, but it was enough to rob the arm of its strength. A sensation of something snapping clean through, and the dagger came free.

"Kh—! You—someday I'll—"

"Someday? Someday what? What are you going to do? Hurry up and tell me. I'm dying of curiosity."

"I'll kill you for sure!"

"Pff."

Ah. I hadn't meant to laugh at him.

The snort just slipped out on its own, and I couldn't hold it back.

"With your skills? You'd better bring a lot of friends."

"You—!"

If he wanted to kill me, he'd have to do something about that short, heavy hammer first. Same principle as the gunlance Reme used to carry. Against an assassin who knew what they were doing, it was a matchup you simply couldn't trade hits in.

How did he not know that?

How was I supposed to fail to dodge those sluggish hammer swings?

I shoved the shield down with my hand and cut across his throat. I drew blood, but the wound was a little shallow. Factoring in a paladin's vitality, it wasn't quite a critical hit.

But I didn't need to finish him right this second.

I kicked the broad kite shield away and took a step back. Dongjak's body curled inward. Tucking himself behind the shield meant he was bracing for my next attack. A veteran with thick bones—he knew how to handle a stronger opponent.

My next choice… was to hop clean past him and keep going.

What, did he think I was an idiot? Play with him when I could plainly see the DPS still alive in the back?

Under normal circumstances, even giving him this much time was a major loss. The only reason I'd still drained his strength was one thing: there were survivors left in the party he'd attacked earlier.

"Thank you!"

"Ga-wol-nim, I'm a fan!"

"Since when?"

"Starting today!"

"Heh. I'll let myself fall for ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠that one."

They would keep Dongjak occupied. Well—they didn't look like they had much of a chance.

Dongjak was a well-regarded fighter even in this industry. Fan Number Three, by comparison, was an ordinary civilian. Calling the gap between them an uncrossable wall wouldn't have been ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠an overstatement.

That burning thirst for revenge would help me—but it wouldn't save them.

Either way, I finally had time to settle into the hunt properly.

I stepped on a tree branch and activated Rapid Advance.

Following the footprints and the mana traces scattered like mist, I tracked the enemy. In a paved city it might have been different, but this was unexplored ground—nothing but dirt. The places you could run to were obvious, so finding the target wasn't hard.

I planted a rope dagger in a suitable tree and boldly closed the distance.

"You're a familiar face too, huh?"

"Yes. We've met a few times. Congratulations on the championship, Noona!"

The mage I'd found was a bald old man with a memorable eye patch. What was the nickname again—OneEyedVillageChief?

Probably right. He was the one who'd tried to deal when I sold the Eye of the Magic Dragon.

Even as we traded friendly conversation, the attacks never stopped. Countless ice spikes poured down at my feet.

"I appreciate it, but… calling me 'Noona' at face value is a little much, don't you think?"

"If you're good at the game, everyone's hyung and noona."

"Well. Fair enough."

Next came boulders controlled by telekinesis—skills clearly meant to keep me from closing in no matter what. Precise aiming, and they blocked my line of sight.

But how many mages had died by my hand by now? Plenty of them had tried the same thing.

I hauled on the rope and wheeled through the air. The instant my body cleared the rock, I activated stealth.

Just as expected—he'd been lining up a second attack. Several spears of fire came flying toward me, even though I was invisible. Good call. He must have noticed the rope I'd set going taut.

The aim wasn't precise, so the spears spread like shotgun pellets. That meant I didn't need to sidestep. I tucked my body in and drove straight through the middle; the searing heat skimmed past me by a hair.

Having a small frame work in my favor—that hadn't happened in a while.

The moment the dagger was in range: the wrist. Confirming the severing judgment, I cut the tendons in his arms and legs. Last, I shoved the blade into his mouth and opened Ga-wol-style negotiations.

"There was one more of you, wasn't there. Dead?"

"Th-that… even so, I don't sell out guildmates."

"Even if I said I'd spare you?"

"He bolted the opposite way from me. He's probably heading toward the village."

Figured as much. The one who ran was probably an archer-type class—far more agile than a mage. Even if I chased from here, I had no confidence I'd catch him.

"Too far."

"So… are you ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠letting me live now?"

Hopeful eyes. My answer was no.

"Can't do it. That wasn't useful information."

"Ah… what if I just give you the money instead?"

"I came for the bounty. The number's going to be big—you okay with that?"

"That's a problem. Just take the kill, then. Keep the part about me selling out a guildmate quiet."

"My lips are sealed."

He closed his eyes in resignation. I put the dagger through his head, and his body crumpled at once.

Anyway—that made three kills.

Losing one was unavoidable, so I headed back for Dongjak as a consolation prize.

The survivors of the civilian party were no longer survivors.

"Guess I have to avenge Fan Number Three."

"What the hell kind of nonsense is that."

"Just saying. Figured as much—they're dead."

Blood-soaked Dongjak glared at me. A gaze thick with hostility. His shield and hammer gathered holy light—then immediately guttered out, spent. Looks like he'd given up on the fight.

A wise call. With his skill, he could die and come back a hundred times and still never beat me.

Which meant I now had the leisure to honor Fan Number Three.

Beside the sprawled corpses, I started writing. Rest in peace… would it look a little classier in English?

Rest In P…… hmm.

"Hey, Dongjak. You know the phrase 'rest in peace'?"

"Yeah. Rest in peace."

"So, uh. How do you spell 'peace'?"

"……."

The stare he fixed on me was a little sharp. Dongjak furrowed his brow a few times, then carefully said:

"Pieces."

"Thanks. You studied English more than I expected."

"……That's just common knowledge. You should study a little yourself. Stop only playing games."

"Shut up."

I said that, but I really ought to buy a book or something. To think I knew less than Dongjak.

The shock was big enough that the hand writing the letters trembled.

Rest In Pieces.

Fan Number Three.

I'd seen them off. Time to finish the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠job.

The moment I stood with the dagger in hand, Dongjak put on a pathetic voice.

"Ga-wol… if I die, it's twelve hours."

"Twelve hours? Of what?"

"Login penalty. If you die because of a bounty, you can't log in for twelve hours."

"They added that, huh. Then just log in after twelve hours."

Pros don't compromise easily. Our relationship had always been exactly this: if the need arose, either of us could kill or be killed without hesitation. Given the right circumstances, he wouldn't think twice about driving a blade into my chest either.

So I'd meant to kill him on the spot.

But I had no choice but to stop the dagger aimed at Dongjak's throat.

"Hey."

"What. Stop the mind games and kill me already if you're going to."

"Not that. If I spare you this time—how far are you willing to go for a favor of mine?"

"……?"

System messages most people never bother checking. I'd only turned the notifications on recently myself—and now they were flooding in like mad.