Chapter 83
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Translator: MadScientist
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Pashtek Hill Ambush Operation (7)
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If it had been magic befitting her level, it would have shot out from her staff the moment she finished chanting...
But because she'd attempted magic beyond her capabilities, her mana wouldn't gather properly and scattered wildly instead.
Normally, she would have calmly thought, Not yet, and tried practicing again...
But she gritted her teeth and poured every ounce of effort into gathering her mana at the tip of her staff once more.
"I'll protect our squad leader."
As Lucia gathered her mana and battled her own limits, memories of Martin Meyer flooded her mind.
The kindness he'd shown in taking her in when, even after graduating from the magic academy, her orphan background kept her from landing a proper job with a noble house, leaving her wandering from one mercenary band to another.
When other mercenaries mocked her as a cowardly rookie and hurled insults, he'd shielded and believed in her to the end.
Whenever she struggled with grueling physical training, his warm words of encouragement: You can do it.
'By sticking with the training without giving up, I eventually earned recognition from everyone as a mage.'
A senior mercenary's pay wasn't enough to afford the equipment she needed as a mage, let alone send money back to the orphanage for the priestess to feed the children.
That's when he'd secretly given her twenty gold coins, saying, This is to thank the priestess for raising the wonderful mage named Lucia.
Before she knew it, she'd come to rely on Martin Meyer, harbor feelings for him, and want to help him in any way she could.
Seeing him smile made her happy, and when he stroked her head as proof of her recognition, she felt like she could float away.
With her heart settled into that single resolve, Lucia murmured so quietly no one else could hear.
"I love you, Squad Leader. So this time, let Lucia... let Lucia protect you."
Her feelings sorted, she wrung every last drop of stamina and mana from her body, pushing beyond her limits to cast the spell.
From the reckless mana surge, sweat poured down Lucia's body despite the lack of heat, and her breathing grew ragged.
"Haa... haa."
Even so, she refused to let go of her staff, keeping her eyes fixed below.
She absolutely needed to support our squad leader, who was being pushed back by the sheer number of enemies on his own. No—she had to.
"I can't lose Squad Leader."
And so, Lucia challenged her limits again and again, determined to succeed with intermediate magic.
Mana incomparable to her beginner spells gathered around her, drawing the eyes of every mage nearby.
"Isn't that an intermediate spell?"
"Looks like it. Lucia's talented as a mage, sure, but she's only twenty."
"Up until yesterday, all she could cast were beginner spells."
Ignoring the attention, Lucia focused solely on her magic.
The wait felt eternally long to her, though it wasn't much time in reality. Finally, a massive spear of flame formed at the tip of her staff.
"I did it."
With a sigh of relief, she immediately aimed at the soldiers charging toward Martin Meyer and unleashed the spell.
"Spear that burns and pierces all, grant me the power to protect my precious one!"
⟨ Fire Spear ⟩
With those words, a flame spear rocketed toward the enemy at missile-like speed—something I'd have called a missile if I'd seen it.
The fiery spear engulfed those drawing swords to kill Martin Meyer.
If her Fireball had turned its targets to ash in an instant, this properly cast intermediate spell exploded on impact like a flame bomb, scattering fire in every direction.
A radius of 1.5 meters around it, claiming over ten men as human torches.
If another mage had pulled this off—and if the situation weren't so dire—Lucia would have been jumping for joy.
Not that it was surprising; countless mages spent decades after academy graduation failing to break through to intermediate.
But Lucia had no time for celebration—it was a luxury she couldn't afford. She began chanting again.
"Spear that burns and pierces all, grant me the power to protect my precious one to the end..."
Overwhelmed by Lucia's intermediate magic, the White Beard Mercenary Corps' mage captain snapped his jaw shut, regained his composure, and barked orders.
"Time to earn our pay! Don't fall behind Lucia! Wring out your mana till you're on the brink of collapse! Just don't be idiots shooting at friendlies!"
The mages, fired up by his words, squeezed their mana to the max and unleashed a barrage on the enemy.
"Time to show the White Beard Mercenary Corps reigns supreme!"
"Die, you bastards! Fireball!"
"Flames, burn away my foes—Fireball!"
This support immediately hammered the Montmartre forces trying to hold their retreat.
I, Martin, was witnessing an astonishing scene right now.
A barrage of spells, including intermediate magic, rained down from our mercenary band's mages.
"Gaaah, fuck!"
"Someone douse me with water!"
"Help! For fuck's sake!"
The enemy screamed as they died, their momentum against our lines crumbling.
Seeing intermediate spells bursting one after another... Could it be Lucia?
Mages rarely awakened mid-battle, but Lucia was supposed to be in the protagonist's party in the original story. She had every reason to awaken.
'Lucia, now an intermediate mage—what gift should I give her?'
As such idle thoughts tried to fill my head, I shook it vigorously to refocus.
I'll think about that after confirming—and after the battle ends.
Dalton seized the opening, bellowing loudly.
"Take out those bastards! The end of this shitty fight is in sight! Push!"
Exactly why we were risking our lives to hold Baron Eclaire's unit: take them down properly, and the count trapped in our ambush would have no choice but surrender, hands up.
They'd already lost hordes to our surprise attack, their combat strength and morale in the gutter. Even our 2,000 could overwhelm them now.
Keep fighting, and their casualties would mount until surrender was their only option.
'Of course, if we break first, we're done for.'
But these guys reeling from magic barrages? Manageable.
Hell, we might even capture their vanguard leader, the baron.
"Captain, fuck. Now's our chance. While they're dazed, let's snag Baron Eclaire alive."
Dalton casually slit the throat of an oncoming swordsman before replying.
"Let's do it."
Our captain immediately ordered the mages to halt spells and arrows.
Baron Eclaire, thinking it his chance...
"Regroup! Charge again! We must break through!"
As his men hastily reformed at his command, Dalton waved his hand—without me even asking.
No time for words. It was the signal: exploit the gap, storm their center per plan.
"Fiery bastard—really lighting things up."
Grasping the captain's intent, I maxed out my remaining aura.
Just moments ago, I'd been inwardly despairing over how long we'd hold...
Now the end was in sight. Was my body surging with survival instinct, or anticipation of massive rewards post-battle? Either way,
strength welled up throughout me.
'Even exhausted marathoners get a mysterious burst right before the finish, speeding them home.'
"For Lucia and Karin—for our squad—I gotta snag at least the baron here. Only way this Martin earns their respect and love, right?"
Muttering that, I eyed the foes aiming weapons at me.
Halfway through reforming, their lines were a mess.
Yet after I'd sliced a bunch of their necks, they were furious.
"Kill that damn tin can!"
"Won't die even surrounded by ten-plus. Trash bastard."
"Tougher than a cockroach."
Insulting me as a tin can, trash, cockroach? How mad were they?
But their insults were praise, proof of how terrifying, brutal, and formidable I was to them.
'I can do this. I can capture this vanguard-leading baron.'
Gripping my sword with both hands, I charged.
One of the baron's knights—decent skill, by the look—rushed me...
Only for a wind-wrapped arrow to strike his nape.
"Gurk."
He faceplanted, dead.
Only Karin fires wind arrows in our band...
So Karin was backing me up.
"With expectations like this, time to deliver."