Chapter 64
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Translator: 8uhl
Chapter: 64
Chapter Title: Operation Fishtrap
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September 21st
06:00 AM.
Operation Name: Fishtrap
Operation Number: 05-0078
Location: Vellaland, Coordinates 05-46.75
Commander: General Bel Artois
The next day. The sun had not yet risen.
Bel arrived at the pre-arranged location an hour early and began inspecting his equipment.
By 5:30, all the soldiers participating in the operation had gathered, and they habitually checked their gear one more time, equipment they had already inspected countless times.
“Take these.”
At 5:55, Bel Artois distributed masks that covered the soldiers’ entire faces. Outwardly, they didn't look much different from those used by doctors when seeing plague patients.
The only unique features were that the long, beak-like tip of the mask was cut off, and large, unidentifiable canisters were attached to either side of the cheeks.
“These are special masks crafted by the dwarves. They allow you to breathe even in places filled with gas and poison. I’m told it costs about 29 gold to make one of these.”
“Huh, more expensive than my annual salary.”
One of the soldiers who had been listening let out a hollow laugh, as if in disbelief, and examined the mask in his hands.
“They’re expensive and heavy, but they allow us to move freely in enemy territory filled with poison and waste. There’s also communication magic inscribed inside, so we shouldn’t have any trouble communicating.”
One by one, the soldiers covered their faces with the masks and tightened the buckles at the back of their heads.
“Let’s move. Take the lead, Second Lieutenant.”
The communication magic circle inside the mask emitted a faint glow.
It was 6:00 AM sharp.
At his command, the high-ranking elf archer took the lead and walked forward with practiced ease.
They carefully stepped over the front line, which was shrouded in silence and tension. The soldiers standing guard in the trenches looked bewildered at the sudden appearance of the masked Bel.
The rank-and-file soldiers had no way of knowing about today’s operation; even officers of a considerably high rank stared curiously at Bel, who was heading somewhere in a strange mask so early in the morning.
After walking for a few meters, they soon reached the end of the long trench.
Compared to the main battlefield, where everything was buried under mud, the outskirts where Bel and his soldiers now stood still retained some semblance of Vellaland's former appearance.
The remnants of a wall that had once stretched to dizzying heights, a dwarven workshop with half its structure obliterated by shelling, and an old, completely collapsed fruit stand had not yet been buried in the mud or turned to dust.
“Watch out for landmines. This is the outskirts of the battlefield, and while it’s not heavily guarded due to its lack of strategic advantage, the scouts reported finding a few mines.”
With a brief warning, the elf second lieutenant swiftly exited the trench and hid among the building wreckage. Bel and the other soldiers ran after him, and Ad, too, hid among the debris without any issue.
Past the ruins of the buildings on the outskirts of the front line, a burning forest came into view. Acrid smoke obscured their vision, but thanks to the masks, they had no trouble breathing.
They walked through the burning forest for about two or three hours.
The elf second lieutenant, Menes, who served as their guide, would occasionally warn them of a mine's location, and that was the entirety of the conversation that passed between them for those two hours.
“...Ahead is enemy territory. We’ve circled around to their rear, so it will be difficult to expect support from the main force.”
The faint sounds of unexpected mine explosions and soldiers' shouts could be heard intermittently, but no one, except for Ad, showed any sign of surprise.
“Assume you’ll die the moment you’re spotted. Move with caution.”
Menes offered only a light warning before exiting the burning forest.
“……”
The Mazoku formation was… eerily quiet.
A cold silence, a stark contrast to the allied camp, which never had a quiet day due to the constant groans of the wounded and the rampages of the insane.
Ad was so overwhelmed by the silence that for a moment, he forgot to breathe.
“We’re moving.”
After confirming the formation had more or less regrouped, Menes took the lead and moved forward.
The smell of blood, a smell one could never get used to no matter how many times it was inhaled, grew stronger and stronger. For some reason, it seemed even the most expensive and high-performance mask couldn't completely filter out this scent.
Menes pushed forward at the very front, cutting through the muddy water mixed with blood and flesh, with Bel following closely behind.
The area was littered with the corpses of mutants emitting unidentifiable gases.
A corpse split into upper and lower halves, a lump of completely mangled mutant flesh, the massive arm of an orc, and bones so large it was impossible to guess whose they were, lay scattered about.
“First point secured.”
Menes said quietly after ensuring the surrounding area was safe.
Bel immediately pulled a thick parchment from within his wine-colored robes.
The parchment, densely covered in symbols and letters incomprehensible to Ad, began to melt with a puff of white smoke the moment it touched the ground, like a piece of meat dropped into a pit of poison.
Faintly glowing letters were etched into the muddy ground, but Bel immediately moved his boots to cover them with mud.
“...Just eight more times like this. It’s a simpler task than you might think.”
Ad couldn't understand the meaning of what Bel had just done.
He wasn't knowledgeable in magic, nor had he been briefed on the objective of this mission beforehand.
All he knew was that he ‘had to escort a mage.’
Various questions arose in his mind, but they were in the middle of enemy territory. It wouldn't be too late to ask on the way back to the main camp, so he kept his mouth shut for now.
“Our work here is done. We will move to the next area.”
Menes passed Bel and moved forward toward the next objective point.
The next objective was a good distance away. Menes advanced cautiously, his five senses on high alert, while Bel and the other soldiers followed, holding their breath.
A sharp silence continued for about ten minutes.
“Halt.”
Menes’s voice came from the runes carved inside the mask. Something had caught the eye of the man leading the way.
“...Changing route. There are too many flesh piles full of deadly poison ahead. One wrong step and your limbs will melt.”
“How much of a detour will it be?”
“Only about a five-minute difference. It won’t affect the operation.”
Menes assured them, but for some reason, a cold chill ran down Ad’s spine.
‘This operation… I bet that elf second lieutenant and General Bel know everything. They haven’t told us grunts everything, but they must have planned out every little detail, which path to take and how to move.’
The optimal route, reviewed countless times, had been altered. Though it was only a five-minute difference, it also meant that a hole had appeared in the ‘seemingly perfect plan.’
“...Even if the worst happens, our mage will remain hidden and provide no support. If a general-class mage is discovered wandering around here, the operation will be a failure. None of you have forgotten that, have you?”
As if to prove that Ad’s unease was not just a baseless fear, Menes once again brought up the ‘worst-case scenario’ he had emphasized countless times before the mission began.
Thick mud squelched under heavy military boots.
The soldiers, dressed in light attire for stealth instead of thick, heavy armor, quietly swallowed dryly.
In a situation like this, without shields or armor to protect them, encountering a Mazoku or a mutant would undoubtedly result in a severe injury.
And a severe injury in enemy territory… meant death.
“Do not get caught. Stay alert and follow me.”
Menes drew a sharp dagger and, keeping his body low, skillfully navigated through the debris. They climbed over rotten wood and disgusting clumps of mud and arrived at the second objective point.
Bel quietly recited an incantation from behind his mask and placed the parchment from his robes on the ground. Once again, the parchment slowly sank into the mud and vanished without a trace.
While Bel planted the parchment, the soldiers kept watch on their surroundings. The armor that had felt so heavy and cumbersome today was now sorely missed.
*Thump!*
A cold footstep broke the dead silence, its sound echoing in their chests. Normally, their armor would have trembled, but today, the massive vibration shook their bodies directly.
“...Get down.”
At Menes’s command, most of the soldiers ducked their heads low. They would have pressed their faces to the ground if they could, but the mud here was mixed with blood and poison, so they could only lower their heads as much as possible.
“He-help me. Help meeee!”
Where the massive vibration had originated, a giant stood, its shoulders towering higher than a castle wall. Its whole body was covered in stitched-up marks, and its skin hung loose like rags, suggesting it wasn't a mutant created by a particularly skilled Mazoku.
The mutant’s hand was clutching a handful of torn and broken armor.
“Aaaargh!”
A terrible scream came from within the armor, which was caked in foul venom.
“Danny…”
One of the soldiers muttered someone’s name, his face pale.
“Do you know him?”
“...He was in my unit. We went through training together. Worked together for five years… saved my life twice. Dammit, they said he went missing in the last battle. Fuck, fuck…”
The short-haired soldier spoke, looking completely dazed. His gaze was fixed on the giant mutant.
His breathing grew ragged, his focus wavering. Soon, the soldier, who had been staring blankly at the massive mutant, turned to Bel and spoke as if requesting his command.
“...He’s like a brother to me.”
Through the mask, his trembling eyes were visible.
“Give the order.”
Menes awaited Bel’s decision, but Bel didn’t even glance toward the giant.
On this battlefield, being captured was a more terrible fate than dying. The dead simply became part of the muddy ground, but the captured had their bodies twisted and their brains melted until they turned into mutants.
“Continue the operation. Move out.”
Bel didn't even pretend to think.
“……”
The short-haired soldier felt a foul stench press down on his shoulders. The screams of his brother-in-arms still echoed from not too far away.
“That mutant is all talk and no action, just big. If you give the order, I’ll rescue him right away.”
Ad said, placing his hand on the large greatsword on his back. He too was well aware of the fate that awaited those captured by the Mazoku.
“Stop talking nonsense and take your hand off your sword. I said we are continuing the operation.”
Bel dismissed his words with a sharp, irritated voice.
“...We have more than enough time to save him.”
Ad looked as if he was about to draw his blade and charge at the mutant at any moment. The other soldiers cautiously placed their hands on their weapons, ready to cut Ad down immediately if he attempted such a foolish act.
The short-haired soldier could only stare blankly at his comrade, caught in the giant's hand and being dragged away somewhere.
“It varies by individual, but some Mazoku link their consciousness to mutants in real-time. If they spot us, it’ll be a problem. Our mission is not a rescue. If you understand, take your hand off your sword, Private.”
Bel tasted iron in his mouth.
He could never get used to this taste.
“...You know full well what will happen if we just leave him like this, don't you?”
Ad said, looking back and forth between the short-haired soldier and Bel in disbelief.
“Didn’t you just hear him say they were training buddies? He said they worked together for five years. If you’ve spent five years together on the battlefield, that’s practically like being broth—”
“Shut up.”
The short-haired soldier grabbed Ad’s shoulder firmly, stopping him. So much force was in his grip that Ad’s shoulder momentarily twisted.
“...Corporal?”
“Just, please, shut up.”
The short-haired soldier’s eyes were wavering wildly with confusion, self-loathing, guilt, and the like.
“……”
The other soldiers were silent. They could neither support Ad nor the short-haired soldier.
They couldn't be sure what decision they would make if they were in the same situation.
“……”
Ad had to make a decision.
Go and rescue the poor soldier who would be horribly melted and torn apart, or turn a blind eye and continue the mission.
“……”
It didn't take long for Ad to make his decision. He slowly lowered his arm from the hilt of the greatsword on his back.
“If the commotion gets bigger, other mutants will flock here, which will lead to the team's annihilation.”
...Ad understood that logic clearly in his head.
“Are we really just leaving, General?”
Even so, Ad asked. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.
He just couldn't bring himself to move.
He couldn't believe it.
Heroes.
Weren't the Sword Saint and the generals the ones closest to that childish and cliché word?
But for those called heroes to turn such a cold shoulder to a comrade's death.
He felt as if the fantasy he had admired since childhood was being torn to shreds like a water-soaked piece of paper.
The heroic tales he had heard from people's mouths or read in the newspapers all felt like lies.
“This is a battlefield.”
Bel didn't bother to add much of an explanation.
“Help meeee…”
The voice of the soldier being dragged away in the giant’s hand was now barely audible.
“...We just follow orders. We don’t have a choice. Yeah, we just follow orders. We’re soldiers, after all.”
The short-haired soldier, who had fought alongside the abducted soldier for over five years, repeated those words like a mantra. His pained monologue was transmitted to all the soldiers through the runes on their masks.
“This is a battlefield. This is a battlefield. People die. Because this is a battlefield.”
The corporal’s hands, forced to ignore his brother-in-arms, trembled with anger and sorrow.
And… the others could only hope that the corporal’s mind would hold out until they returned to the main camp.
“Yeah, it’s a battlefield. It’s okay, this is the kind of place where this happens. Let’s go, Private. Yeah.”
The short-haired corporal said, patting Ad’s back with a trembling hand.
His eyes, visible beyond the mask, were a swirling mix of complex and deep emotions that could not be described in a single word.
His eyes were looking at Ad, but they were not seeing him.
They were staring at a place far, far away, a place that had nothing to do with here.
Seeing this, Ad and the other soldiers felt an unexplainable chill.
Ad couldn't be sure if this was the right thing to do.
‘Because it’s an order.’
‘Because it’s a battlefield.’
Life was not so light as to be dismissed with such convenient excuses.
…He had always believed that.
“……”
Soon, even the faint screams could no longer be heard, and only the suffocating silence that had first greeted them remained.
The smell of blood hidden in the mud grew endlessly thicker.
*Squelch.*
The mud and boots separated with a sticky sound.
In the end, Ad belatedly fell in with Bel and the other soldiers’ formation.
For the first time in his life, he felt disgusted with himself.