Dark Moon
I raised a hand as I walked at the front of the column. The squad came to a halt.
Something felt off — an alien sound, just at the edge of hearing.
I activated my mana roads and funneled mana into my ears. My hearing sharpened. It wasn't a spell, just a simple physical enhancement through mana. Weaker than proper magic, but quick and easy when you needed it in a hurry.
Drip. Drip-drip.
Raindrops. My face twisted the moment I made the call.
"Damn it. It's raining."
"Raining? For real?"
"Ugh. Out of nowhere?"
"Never thought I'd actually have to put on a rain cloak in a live op."
"Haaah…"
Irritated muttering broke out all around me.
Of all the training scenarios we'd endured, nothing grated worse than something falling from the sky. Moisture soaked into your clothes until they clung like a straitjacket. Vision narrowed. Sound turned to noise. The rain cloaks were stifling, the ground turned to sludge, and a faint, fishy stink crept up from the mud.
"We should be grateful it's not snow or hail, at least."
It was summer, but on a Dark Moon night, snow in midsummer wouldn't have been strange at all.
We pulled on the rain cloaks. Thin as they were, the moment I sealed mine shut, it felt like I couldn't breathe.
Our feet started moving again. Moments later, the sky opened up and rain came down in sheets.
"Watch your footing — don't slip. And keep those radios dry. They shouldn't fail under normal conditions, but better safe than sorry."
"Got it."
We trudged on in silence until we reached the mountainside. I took a head count and decided we would rest. Originally I'd planned to push straight into the mission without a break, but the downpour forced a change. Moving through a rain-soaked mountain burned stamina twice as fast. We needed the pause.
Besides, I'm the weakest one in First Squad when it comes to raw endurance.
I leaned my back against a suitable tree, uncorked my canteen, and took slow sips of water. Then I opened my Astral and expanded my senses. I wanted a fix on Instructor Vinous's position — he would be trailing us.
…Nothing. I can't even tell which direction he's in, let alone a precise location. It's not just the rain. The real reason is simpler: Instructor Vinous is far stronger than I am.
"No. 211."
Someone called my number. In the rain it was hard to place the voice. I turned and found No. 31. Before I could speak, she raised a hand and pointed at the sky. My head tilted up on reflex.
About thirty meters overhead, a monster was beating its wings. I narrowed my eyes and studied its shape more carefully. Bat-like wings and silhouette. A body made of stone.
"…A 2-Class monster. Gargoyle."
I said it loud on purpose. The others scrambled up from their rest and raised their rifles. Taking down a gargoyle wasn't part of the mission. Avoiding it was the smart play.
…It's spotted us and closing in. No dodging this fight.
Information on gargoyles from the Dark Moon game surfaced in my mind.
A 2-Class monster. Skin hard as stone. Capable of flight.
Bullets won't do a damn thing. Under the Dark Moon's influence it'll be even tougher. Its attack methods are claws and fangs — even in the air, it only has melee options.
Which meant the gargoyle would have to come down to hit us.
No point wasting ammo. Wait for it to dive, then counter. With rain falling like this, ice magic should drop it cleanly.
A Barrier spell would handle its attack. My 2-Class Barrier could shrug off a single hit from a gargoyle without trouble.
I was about to open my mouth and brief the squad on a simple plan when I felt a surge of mana nearby. I'd been too focused on the gargoyle's counters. My reaction came late.
"Ice Arrow."
No. 31's clean, clipped voice cut through the rain, and a 2-Class Ice Arrow streaked toward the gargoyle. An ice spike as thick as my forearm struck its body dead center.
CRACK!
The Ice Arrow detonated. Instead of heat, a wave of cold enveloped the gargoyle. The relentless downpour flash-froze against the chill. Wings locked solid, the gargoyle couldn't stay aloft — it plummeted.
Its frozen body shattered on impact. Unlike the stone exterior, the insides were blood and flesh. I confirmed the kill and let out a breath.
"…No. 31."
"What?"
"Why did you suddenly fire an Ice Arrow?"
"I judged Ice Arrow was appropriate. It's raining. Fire Arrow would have been too conspicuous."
"That's not what I'm asking. I'm asking why you attacked without warning. You're not alone out here."
"…You're right. Next time I'll say something first."
"I'd appreciate that."
I left it at a second warning and moved on.
We'd been lucky it was only a gargoyle. If something stronger had shown up and No. 31 had attacked it cold? Just thinking about it made my skin crawl.
We were operating as a squad now. Solo freelancing needed to stop.
We left the gargoyle's corpse behind and pushed toward the summit.
Walking point, I turned over No. 31's magic in my head.
…Her mana flow was different from usual. Casting speed much faster. And the Ice Arrow's power was nearly 3-Class.
The cause was obvious — the black moon hanging overhead.
Ordinary humans don't get positive effects from the Dark Moon. At best, a mild high.
And even that was rare. Most people just felt depressed and vaguely afraid when the Dark Moon rose.
No. 31 isn't a dark mage, so the reason she's affected… a Factor. She definitely carries a special Factor.
I clicked my tongue inwardly at the conclusion.
I'd been trying not to get involved with No. 31. And yet my mind kept analyzing her.
Fine. I'll admit it. As a mage, No. 31 is an interesting human being.
There was a lot to learn from her — the way she handled mana, the way she constructed formulas.
That Ice Arrow just now was fascinating too. Arrow-type spells are normally piercing, but she rewrote part of the formula to detonate cold instead.
Similar to the 3-Class spell Ice Ball.
The other squad members who hadn't reached 2-Class yet just shrugged it off as "No. 31 being No. 31." I didn't.
My feet stopped.
I cleared my head and focused forward.
Fifty meters ahead stood a wooden palisade — a slapdash, shoddy thing. Inside, equally crude wooden huts were visible.
A goblin settlement. With intelligence roughly on par with a small child's, they built fences and shelters and settled in. The ones that survived long enough even used simple tactics — smearing poison from toxic plants on wooden spears, for instance.
I raised a hand and signaled the squad.
Everyone brought up their rifles and triggered their magic.
"Silence."
A 1-Class non-elemental spell. It erased ambient sound — footsteps and breathing included. At 1-Class it couldn't mute something as loud as gunfire, but with suppressors on the rifles, that changed everything.
Silence dropped over the area like a blanket. Instant quiet.
You've got to be kidding. Even the rain noise is gone.
I swallowed a dry laugh. The others couldn't control their magic with anything close to my precision.
Doesn't this just advertise that we're here?
When rain was hammering down everywhere and one pocket of it suddenly went silent, every eye would snap toward that spot.
Then again, we're dealing with goblins. Probably doesn't matter.
I ordered the squad to hold position and went ahead alone on recon. Erasing every sound my body made except the rain, I circled the palisade. I mapped the settlement's size and noted the weak points in the fence.
Roughly seventy of them. Goblins breed fast, so call it a hundred to be safe. A hobgoblin will be running the show.
Rooooooar—
A massive rush of water. I looked up past the far side of the goblin camp. A waterfall was pouring down from the summit — completely out of place for a mountaintop. It faced the opposite direction from the 667 Unit.
I took a moment to scan the surroundings.
If this matches the game, this should be the Blena Mountain Range. Remote enough that no one comes through — perfect for experiments that can't afford to be discovered.
Even at night, with visibility poor, the scenery was impressive enough to draw a quiet breath of admiration.
I compared the game's terrain against the real landscape and started building a mental map. It might prove useful later.
I returned to the waiting squad and gave hand signals. They fanned out on watch and fell in behind me.
We slipped through the weak section of the palisade I'd marked earlier.
It went perfectly. No alarm in the goblin settlement. We moved through silence and darkness and began putting goblins down.
Pull the trigger — a bullet flew without a sound and punched through a goblin's body. Even among 1-Class monsters, goblins were fragile. They couldn't stop or deflect a round.
Over seventy dead, and the settlement stayed quiet. Everything was going smoothly.
All that's left is the building in the center.
As crude as the other goblin huts, but larger, and gaudily decorated with animal bones and bird feathers.
I'll go in first.
I signaled and stepped inside.
A goblin with red skin instead of green lay sleeping in the middle of the room. Hobgoblins were larger than regular goblins, and their skin ran red.
Hobgoblin, as expected… but that thing is way too big.
Three meters tall at least, belly bulging, limbs thick with muscle. It filled the hut so completely that a little more bulk would have brought the walls down.
Mutated under the Dark Moon's influence.
I studied the situation in silence. The giant hobgoblin was deep asleep. Rainwater dripped steadily through the shoddy roof, leaving its body damp and slick.
Best if I handle this myself. Silence has killed the sound, and the building blocks line of sight. If I keep the mana fluctuation as low as possible, even No. 31's senses won't catch what spell I used.
I opened my Astral, engaged all twelve mana roads, and called on my electricity ability.
Blue current crackled above my right hand. The charge built second by second until, a few moments later, the electricity was so dense I couldn't see my own fingers.
3-Class magic: Lightning Grab.
I clamped my hand onto the hobgoblin's shoulder. The current gathered in my grip poured into its body and raced through it.
The hobgoblin's eyes snapped open.
"Grrraaaaaaagh!"
It let out a grotesque scream and heaved its upper body upright. The hut's ceiling lasted less than a second before it shattered.
I triggered Charna on pure reflex.
…Shit. This is wrong. It should have been electrocuted on the spot — not even able to move.
The answer came from game knowledge.
Monsters mutated through the Dark Moon became what players called elite monsters, gaining anywhere from one to five or more special traits. In the game, those traits floated helpfully above the monster's head. This was reality. No such courtesy.
Hobgoblins are low-tier. I assumed one trait max — Gigantism. That was it…
The attack hadn't landed properly.
Two candidates: Magic Resistance and Elemental Resistance.
Magic Resistance cut all magical damage by fifty percent. Elemental Resistance cut damage from a specific element by ninety percent.
Magic Resistance…! If it had been Elemental Resistance and lightning just bounced off, it would have gotten up calmly and counterattacked without even flinching from the pain…
Of all things, Magic Resistance.
…Damn it. I'm remembering what I just said to No. 31.
My own arrogance burned hot enough to flush my face. If I'd cast alongside the rest of the squad from the start, this would have gone differently.
The hobgoblin's massive fist came swinging.
I spun a formula together in an instant and triggered the spell.
A Barrier rose to meet the fist. CRASH! The 2-Class Barrier shattered with absurd ease, and my body smashed through a wooden wall and went flying. I tumbled across the muddy ground. Fortunately the Barrier had absorbed most of the impact — for how spectacularly I'd been launched, the damage was almost nothing. A split lip and some light full-body bruising.
"The hobgoblin's mutated! Scatter and use freezing magic!!"
I shoved myself upright and shouted at the stunned squad members.