A Small War on Bukhan Mountain (3)
"……."
The chief instructor carefully examined the teddy bear the male student had handed him.
He'd already been working at Bukhan Mountain for fifteen years. In that time alone, the varieties of golems delivered for training purposes numbered in the dozens. While he wasn't quite on the level of a craftsman who built them himself, he'd accumulated enough knowledge to handle simple repairs on his own.
Strange. This is supposed to be a golem?
That was why he couldn't help tilting his head. None of the hallmarks of a golem were visible. The magic circles connecting each joint of the body, or the basic mana circuits — those were standardized across every product… but this was just a single mass of mana. As if it were alive in its own right.
The male student, who had been puzzled for a different reason, opened his mouth.
"Amazing, right? Who on earth made this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Ah, I looked into these before when I was shopping for a gift for my little sister. This quality is top-tier even among toy types — but strong enough for combat? That's pretty shocking."
Indeed, an A-class magical beast would overwhelm even well-trained hunters in an instant. To face a Wraith head-on, you'd need at least a B-class or higher veteran working in tandem with a supporter — or ten or more C-class hunters hunting systematically. That was common knowledge. Anything D-class or below wasn't even worth discussing from the start.
So this is a C-class or higher golem, then.
"How many of these did you see, roughly?"
This wasn't the time to dig into the deeper circumstances. There were more than a few odd things about calling these golems, but if they were going to serve as allies for now, that was welcome news.
"Well, I'm not sure myself… Ah!"
The male student suddenly pointed ahead.
"It's changing right now — that's the path I fled down earlier!"
"……!"
Was this good luck, or was there a newly established rule at work? The instructor returned the doll and asked as he started walking.
"Do you know how long it took to reappear?"
Fortunately, the male student — an upperclassman — had carefully recorded the terrain changes. He ran his fingers over a mini recording scroll as he answered.
"Rocky snowfield, swamp, grassland, ice waterfall, and back to rocky snowfield. The cycle is about five minutes and thirty seconds."
"Good work. Keep recording from now on."
"Understood."
So essentially only the entrance is blocked, then.
That was a relief. A consistent change cycle meant the enemies still hadn't fully mastered the Ether Stone. They'd just twisted the paths a little.
The moment they entered the rocky snowfield, a scene of carnage stained with dark blood was laid bare. Torn scraps of clothing fluttered from tree branches, and shattered shields and mana stone fragments lay scattered about. Pieces presumed to be the remains of the teddy bears were strewn here and there as well — exactly the landscape the male student had described.
"……."
The chief instructor examined the wreckage with murderous eyes. No enemy traces were visible, but there was a possibility some kind of trap had been set. Then he suddenly spotted a gaunt arm and picked it up. Ashen, bloodless skin and an abnormally elongated form. It belonged to a Wraith. Holes were punched through it all over and flesh had been torn away, as if a beast had mauled it.
"What did this? Doesn't look like golem work."
When the chief instructor muttered this, the male student held up the teddy bear and replied.
"These guys did it. I saw them firing something — nails or needles. And their mouths tear open wide too."
"These teddy bears?"
"Yes."
…To reduce a Wraith's arm to this. And out of revenge, no less.
The chief instructor lightly surveyed the scene again. Judging by the remains, the teddy bears numbered roughly between ten and fifteen, and their sizes varied. To put up this much of a fight against multiple Wraiths and a Grave Warden, you'd need at least a heavily armed B-class party. In the chief instructor's mind, the estimated level of the teddy bears was revised upward.
"We keep moving for now. I think I've roughly got the path figured out."
"Understood."
The chief instructor's thoughts grew slightly chaotic. He understood that some terrorist force had seized the training grounds. He'd heard that certain forms of black magic included methods to forcibly open gates, so the sudden appearance of such powerful magical beasts was plausible enough. But how was he supposed to make sense of these dolls that had appeared right on cue?
That they didn't attack students was certainly something to be grateful for. The problem was where on earth these things had suddenly popped out from. They hadn't been prepared in advance, and it wasn't as if any student had come into the training grounds lugging this much cargo. It felt almost like he was seeing hallucinations.
The further they went along the path, the more spectacular the scenery became. Bloodstains were splattered everywhere, and pieces of teddy bears and Wraiths lay scattered about. As they drew closer to the summit, the mana fluctuations gradually intensified, and eventually they ran into a battlefield.
Whish! Ping!
Steel needles flying in from all directions, swords busily batting them away — and the crack of a handgun. Out of nowhere, the instructors were engaged in combat with the teddy bears.
"Huh? Senior Yoo. What brings you here!"
One of them spotted the chief instructor and called out cheerfully. The other two in the same uniform cheered a beat later.
"Senior! Perfect timing! Help us out! These things are no joke!"
"Some crazy bastard is using golems for terrorism!"
"……."
The chief instructor stared at the scene for a few seconds, then spotted six students collapsed near an old tree. He glanced at the male student beside him, who was standing there wide-eyed and stammering.
"W-wait… how did this… Huh?"
"……."
His juniors' cries rang out once more.
"Senior! Help us!"
After a few more seconds of silence, the chief instructor cracked a slight smile.
"Got it. I'll finish this for you."
"That's our senior!"
The battle was evenly matched. Though there were only three instructors, they were two A-class and one B-class, so they weren't being pushed back by the dozens of Party Bears swarming them.
The chief instructor leisurely put on his helmet and advanced as if taking a stroll. Drawing the long greatsword from his back, he sliced clean through one of the instructors at the waist.
Puhak!
The instructor's body, split diagonally in two, lost all strength and crumpled. At the dull sound so unsuited to dolls, the instructors whirled around.
"Huh? S-Senior! What are you doing!"
The instructors were utterly aghast. But the chief instructor paid them no mind and raised his greatsword. In the moment the remaining A-class instructor was distracted by the Party Bears' steel needle attacks… his form stretched like a ray of light, and before anyone knew it, the greatsword had pierced through the A-class instructor's solar plexus.
Pook!
"Gah…!"
Crimson blood flowed down the blade and soaked the ground. The A-class instructor clutched the greatsword's edge with both trembling hands.
"What is this. S-snap out of it…!"
A bitter smile crossed the chief instructor's lips.
"Hey. Do I look like an idiot to you?"
"Y-yes?"
"The kids' wounds. You guys made those."
For a moment, the A-class instructor's cheek muscle twitched.
"Especially you, you piece of shit. How common are hunters who use karambits in this country? There's only you. Just you."
Having spent his twenties as a mercenary, the chief instructor could distinguish wounds by weapon type. The fallen children bore only slash wounds and stab wounds — traces far removed from the teddy bears' methods. Karambits in particular featured a curved blade like an animal's claw, and hunters who specialized in them were quite rare.
Then the A-class instructor's eyes, which had maintained a confused expression, settled. His throat bobbed once, and slowly the corners of his mouth rose.
"Ah… I was going to stab first. Cough!"
"What's the reason?"
"Huh?"
"There's got to be a reason for this fucked-up shit. Why lock down the maze and drag the kids into it?"
"That's…"
The A-class instructor worked his mouth as if about to answer. In that instant, the chief instructor, sensing something, tilted his head to the side. A single green pellet grazed past his earlobe. Where the pellet struck the ground, white steam rose, and the surface began to bubble and boil.
Hisssss…
"Yeah. This is more like it."
Not spilling secrets to the enemy was a passing grade for a warrior. The chief instructor swung his greatsword diagonally upward, completely pulverizing the A-class instructor's upper body.
BOOM!
Flesh, guts, and blood exploded like fireworks, but were cleanly incinerated by a mana shield. Looking down at the remaining lower half, he suddenly remembered the male student's presence and turned around.
The student was completely drenched in crimson paint. He was simply staring at the chief instructor with a blank expression. A chunk of flesh slid from his shoulder and hit the ground with a wet splat.
"……."
The chief instructor opened his mouth.
"Got anything to say?"
"The students are alive. They're still unconscious, though."
While the male student washed the blood off at a nearby stream, the chief instructor examined the wounded. There were quite a few external injuries, but nothing life-threatening. Studying the wounds carefully, he muttered.
"Sleeping poison."
Naturally, sacrifices came to mind. The students had supposedly been kidnapped to the mountain summit. They'd probably planned to treat these ones the same way. Otherwise there was no reason for them to still be alive.
Tap tap.
"…?"
Before he knew it, a plump brown teddy bear was tapping his forearm. When their eyes met, it pointed somewhere with its stubby arm. A figure turned into a porcupine by dozens of steel needles came into view. It was the B-class instructor.
He already knew the man had been subdued. From the moment he'd bisected the first one, the balance of the fight had collapsed. He'd handled the other A-class with his own hands too. The fate of the lone remaining B-class was obvious.
Crouching insolently before the corpse, the chief instructor asked.
"…Who are you? All of you."
"Byoo!"
The teddy bear began shaking both hands together as if pleading. It pointed once at the chief instructor's greatsword, then once at the dead B-class instructor's neck. The chief instructor's eyes narrowed.
"…You want me to take credit for killing him? Why?"
"Byooik! Beek!"
The teddy bear pointed at itself, then made an X with both hands. It shook its head vigorously left and right. Seeing this, the chief instructor snorted a laugh.
"Aha. So your master told you not to harm people."
Rising to his feet, the chief instructor drew a dagger from his waist.
Puhahak!
The B-class instructor's corpse was divided into a large checkered pattern. Tossing the dagger to the teddy bear, he said.
"Payment for services. From now on, the intact ones head for the summit. Identity or whatever — you're combat assets for now, so I'm putting you to work."
{…….}
The Party Bear stared blankly at the dagger. Something was written on the short blade.
[S-Rank Hunter Only]
"Byoop-byoo (It's for eating)!"