Mission Impossible
"Damn it. If we can't get through this place by the end of the day, we might as well call it a retreat."
Bernard, relying on a hunter's instincts to scout the surroundings, suddenly lifted his head and spoke. Rose stood guard beside him like an iron wall, prepared for any emergency. Margaret, who had been following lightly on tiptoe, overheard and scanned the area. Elves were as skilled at reconnaissance as veteran hunters, but Bernard and Margaret specialized in different areas. Bernard tracked enemy traces and pinpointed likely prey locations, while Margaret excelled at spotting enemies already close enough to enter her field of vision, thanks to her exceptional eyesight and silent presence.
No ambushes had spotted the four warriors infiltrating northward along the rugged rocky mountain path yet. This was partly because the Demon King's forces had mostly withdrawn from the borderlands after the last major offensive, but mainly because Bernard had blazed the optimal path to evade their surveillance nets.
Yet the heroic party, who had endured grueling climbs up the sheer cliffs, now heard thunderous news: if they didn't escape this mountain by today, they could face a surprise attack.
"Hellhound, make a decision."
Margaret spoke, already pulling her bow from her back with a resolute expression and nocking an arrow carefully.
Walter adjusted his monocle with slight tweaks, frowning.
"Just a moment, Princess. Bernard? What's the basis for that judgment?"
"I figure the lich lord's set up defenses this far out, anticipating our raid. My artifact's picking up a faint whiff of ghost—probably about 45 kilometers north."
"That's a damn good artifact even on a second look. Sniffing out ghosts from that distance?"
Rose, clad in heavy armor and holding her sword aloft, widened her eyes in surprise.
Bernard shrugged, as if wondering why she was asking again.
"Like I said before, the stench of rotting corpses is so foul it carries well. The problem is how well they pick up our scent from over there."
"Forty-five kilometers. Even you couldn't spot that with your eyes, right, Princess Margaret?"
"No, it wouldn't be visible."
Margaret shook her head. Walter turned back to Bernard with a resigned look.
"Bernard, how long until they detect our presence?"
"Sorry about this. They'll start responding within six hours at most. And that's just the start—if we get tangled up, I can't guarantee survival. Best to get off this mountain fast."
"What if we retreat and get hit from behind or encircled?"
"Then we were rats in a trap from the beginning."
Bernard stowed his spherical hunting artifact in his pack. Without Park Jeong-jae's scouting magic, Bernard had taken on his role during the mountain crossing. No one expected a perfect replacement, but they'd assumed at least getting over the peaks would be smooth. No one foresaw this crisis so soon.
Walter wiped the cold sweat from his brow and removed his monocle. This lich lord subjugation mission had to succeed—flawlessly, without a hitch.
"Hellhound, decide. This is the mountain's high point."
Margaret gripped her bow tighter, urging him again. Walter steeled himself, nodded once, and climbed the tallest nearby rock.
"Rose, Bernard—chew on these ahead of time."
It was lunchtime by their normal routine, and Walter judged the moment perfect. He tossed small chocolate bars to the two below on the narrow path.
These calorie bombs packed extreme energy into tiny packages—bitter, tasteless rations for when hunger struck in a pinch. Rumor had it the bitterness prevented over-reliance that could wreck nutrition balance in war, but the hero's party ignored that. Before battles, they almost always chomped these.
"Walter, giving these out now means..."
Rose chewed silently, her face worried. Margaret nocked an arrow with the chocolate in her mouth.
"Hold on, Margaret—what are you doing?"
Rose cried out, startled by Margaret's stance as if ready to fire. Bernard blinked in shock, munching his chocolate.
"Getting down this mountain and breaking through in six hours is impossible. But retreating won't make it easy either. If we're encircled midway, I can't guarantee we'd all make it out alive."
Walter said. Margaret glanced at him as if seeking permission.
"So the princess and I reached the same conclusion. If we're fighting, better now while we're fresh, right here on the summit. Margaret? How many enemy outposts can you confirm?"
"Locked on. Something faint beyond the clouds. Bernard's right—easily fifty kilometers."
Rose and Bernard looked up in shock at her range, but quickly realized Walter had lent her his monocle. Harriet's Monocle boosted his brainpower and foresight due to his aptitude, but for raw vision extension, it worked for Margaret too.
As Margaret calmly aimed through the monocle, Walter explained his plan to Rose and Bernard.
"Listen up—only explaining once. Margaret's arrow will reveal our position instantly. Goblin and undead hordes nearby will swarm to encircle us. If this is their alert zone, they'll likely have teleport devices to muster forces."
"Lure them in, wipe them out, then retreat to the Empire?"
Bernard asked. Walter shook his head.
"No. We annihilate every enemy drawn here in thirty minutes, then exploit their troop gap to push straight to the lich lord's fortress."
"You're insane! Sure, provoking now only pulls nearby outpost guards at first! But the lich's main force follows right after! Hell, the Demon King might dispatch reinforcements to catch us!"
"We crush the enemies on this summit in thirty minutes."
Walter emphasized. "Then, deeming the ambush threat gone, they drop alert. We descend swiftly toward enemy lines in three hours. Advance over forty kilometers in two more, raid and neutralize outposts. Outpace the lich's direct units to the fortress, behead the lich lord in thirty minutes, and escape. Even the fastest Demon King response can't encircle us with main forces in six hours. Six hours from now, we'll report the lich lord dead."
"And return to the Empire?"
"Via roads, bold as brass. If things go south, their main force converges on the fortress. Stragglers or remnants at worst on the way back. Night march nonstop, back at the border in four hours. Mobility with our small numbers, dodging their main body."
"Mission done and back in ten hours? We planned three days."
Rose let out a hollow laugh. Walter looked equally incredulous.
"Plans change."
"This is more than a change..."
But it was the hero's word, so they had no choice but to accept. Margaret stared ahead, still wearing his monocle.
"Mage, lend me some power. On my arrowhead—"
About to ask for reinforcement magic, she glanced back and remembered Jeong-jae was gone. The elf princess bit her lip, her expression a mix of embarrassment at her slip or displeasure at his absence.
"Don't worry. I'm not your man, but I can help here."
"Cut the nonsense and cast the spell, Hellhound."
At her growl, Walter drew his Holy Sword from his belt and began chanting.
"Holy sword that chose me, now obey my choice."
As his command ended, the blade flashed white. The light flowed to Margaret's arrowhead, enveloping her from tip to toe in sacred glow. She took a deep breath and released.
With a sharp ping, the arrow streaked north like a rocket, trailing holy light—not an arrow anymore.
Walter reclaimed his monocle and said as the arrow vanished.
"Brace yourselves. By my calc, reaction in fifteen seconds."
About twenty seconds later, a massive explosion echoed from the north. Margaret instinctively knew her shot had nailed an enemy spire forty kilometers away.
"They're coming."
Bernard said. Rose gripped her sword two-handed in battle stance. The Empire's top hunter readied daggers for close quarters. Walter scanned with monocle-eyed vigilance, lightly swinging his sword.
"Here."
At that instant, Margaret on the highest rock fired forward. An orc 300 meters away took the hit, tumbling backward. That signaled it: walking corpses and goblin packs swarmed the summit to encircle them.
"Crazy, they're fast!"
Rose cleaved a zombie climbing toward her with full force, shouting.
Walter formed a triangular formation with Rose and Bernard, resisting the noose.
"Remember! Thirty-minute limit! Fail, and we meet their main army descending!"
"Isn't this army enough already?"
Bernard tripped a goblin with snare wire and slit its throat. Two skeletons pursuing him got trapped in his rat traps, then exorcised by Margaret's arrows.
"This is nothing! Real army contact, no time to yap!"
Walter's massive sword swing unleashed a beam like an extended blade, bisecting dozens of goblins. As enemies hesitated at halved comrades, he booted a zombie lunging at beleaguered Bernard.
"Thanks. Without you, we wouldn't be in this mess!"
"Why complain? Without me, you'd never experience this!"
"Better that way!"
Bernard grumbled but steadily fired his crossbow at approaching skulls, zombies, goblins, orcs. Less accurate than Margaret's arrows, but rapid trigger fire halted close rushes.
Meanwhile, Margaret, sniping from rock and supporting Rose mostly, emptied her quiver. She leaped down, drew her blade, and pierced an orc's skull.
"What kind of insane mixed unit is this? Why so many mongrels in one force?"
She fluidly beheaded a goblin and orc, complaining. Close combat drenched her noble elf frame in demon blood, but as a prime demon butcher, she minded the stench not at all.
"That's what happens when your arrow spooks them into scraping every nearby unit! Rest easy—this wipes the ambush threat clean for descent!"
Walter gleefully smashed skeletons with wild holy sword swings. Rose lived up to her iron wall rep, unscathed amid fierce assaults, countering slowly. Fewer kills than Walter's beams or Margaret and Bernard's tallies, but she anchored the encirclement defense—no demon pierced her to the rear.
Slaughtering foes from all directions, once east, west, south threats cleared, they converged north where Rose held, smashing the thickest pack at once.
From Margaret's provoking shot to this: exactly twenty-eight minutes.
The impossible op's first phase succeeded—while Harriet's Jeong-jae hadn't even finished lunch.