Dark Moon
Before Lexy and I entered Rumel Forest, we stopped by the 105th Unit to draw equipment, emergency rations, and the rest of our gear.
The 105th Unit was one of the outfits posted along the border, charged with watching Rumel Forest. It was only battalion-sized — nothing large. Among the border zones, Rumel Forest sat in a particularly remote pocket, and for any number of reasons it had been left to rot.
I rolled my eyes over the place without making a show of it. It was nothing like the 667th Unit I belonged to. From a distance the tents looked presentable enough, but a closer look turned up one shabby detail after another.
…The 667th really does get an outsized share of the newest kit. Different money poured into the unit, so of course it would.
The 667th had been built for the Battle Mage Project. The project was already riding a success curve, so the brass had their eyes locked on it. A major corporation was involved as well — running short on funds was simply not in the cards.
Discipline here is a joke.
Even with visitors on the grounds, the soldiers of the 105th drifted around at a half-hearted shuffle. Their faces were full of irritation at the beating sun and the sheer nuisance of the workday.
I've passed through units with this kind of atmosphere a few times on missions.
Nine times out of ten, this was a dumping ground for the demoted. Men who had screwed up somewhere in their service and been kicked down the ladder. This was the front, sure — but the front had its own hierarchy. Even if the place got flattened by enemy shelling, rear units sat only a few hours away and could rebuild it overnight. There were no important cities or facilities nearby either. The men knew that, so neither discipline nor motivation had any reason to exist.
Not my problem.
Lexy and I checked the gear we'd been issued. Every piece was in excellent condition. Not a single problem.
We finished the inspection and prepared to leave at once. The whole atmosphere of the place set my teeth on edge. Men demoted for causing trouble were the same men most likely to cause more of it. Lingering here would do us no favors.
"Equipment to your liking? I picked only the A-Class stock we had on hand."
A middle-aged man with a mechanical right arm approached. A prosthetic limb. In this world, replacing body parts with machinery was common enough that it barely registered as noteworthy.
The man was Major Vague, commander of the 105th. The fact that he had come out in person to see us off carried a purpose of its own.
"Yes. Everything's been well maintained. I'll make sure to put in a good word with command about the quality of the gear."
Lexy saw straight through his intent and answered accordingly. Major Vague drew a smile across his mouth and nodded.
"Glad to be of use to the Black Panther of the famous Ross Unit."
The Black Panther of the Ross Unit.
That was Lexy's nickname. I didn't know the full story behind the name, but I knew the Ross Unit was a well-regarded special forces outfit. I also knew that Lexy had once held the rank of first lieutenant before being busted down.
Her expression hardened for a fraction of a second. She did not care for people dragging old business into the open.
"…I didn't realize the Major knew who I was. Has my reputation traveled this far?"
"Being stuck out in a backwater corner doesn't mean I've gone deaf. What does surprise me is that you're still on active duty. Kill a superior officer and you'd expect to find yourself in a military prison at the very least, wouldn't you?"
Major Vague grinned as he said it.
I'd known Lexy had been demoted over some incident… but killing a superior? That was news. I was a little surprised.
Lexy only shrugged, as if it were nothing.
"Unlike some people, I have the skill to back it up."
Major Vague narrowed his eyes. His thin lips trembled faintly. He seemed to weigh whether to speak, then broke into a broad smile.
"…Good luck on this mission of yours."
"Thank you. I'll finish the job and see you again soon."
"Take care. Rumel Forest is no easy place."
He turned and disappeared into the tent. The moment he was out of sight, Lexy's face twisted hard.
"Useless old man. Scratching at nerves for no damn reason."
She spat on the ground, then grabbed my shoulder and pulled.
"Let's go. We're probably going to be shooting from the jump."
It took less than thirty minutes to understand exactly what she meant.
From the moment we stepped into Rumel Forest, someone attached themselves to our trail. Neither of us panicked. We drew the tails deeper into the woods, as if inviting them in.
I wiped the sweat running down my forehead. Rumel Forest was a forest in name only — in practice it was a jungle. Blistering sunlight, air so thick with moisture it felt like drowning, insects the second you turned your head, and plants choking every line of sight. I'd expected it, but the environment was genuinely miserable.
"Lexy. The ones following us… 105th Unit, right?"
"That's right. You've put in enough time that you don't need me to spell it out anymore, huh?"
"We've been in the forest less than an hour and already have a tail. Who else would it be? Their goal is…"
"Me, obviously."
She said it as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But her eyes were anything but calm. A tightly controlled killing intent sat in those pupils.
I looked at her again. Pink bobbed hair. Skin so white and soft it was hard to believe she was a veteran soldier. Full breasts and a narrow waist. Beauty of a caliber you rarely saw.
"That look of yours is filthy. You're not thinking something weird, are you?"
"If anyone's thinking something weird, it's you."
"Them coming after me is nothing new. It's happened a few times while I was in the service. Of course, I sent every last one of them to the next world."
"…They'll be after your body too, sure. But first priority is the gear we're carrying."
Everything the 105th had issued us was A-Class. Some of it was expensive, cutting-edge equipment.
They would kill us and take it. If we died at their hands, it would be written up as a mission failure and a disappearance, and the gear would be officially lost in Rumel Forest. A clean way to make money.
"That's not all of it. Major Vague. Something reeked off that man. He wants us gone just in case."
"…In case of what?"
"In case we dig up evidence of his corruption out here and report it up the chain? It's still only a hunch with no proof… but he's almost certainly into smuggling. In a place like this, that's about the only way to make real money."
For a man with dirt on his hands like Major Vague, the best possible outcome was the two of us dying in Rumel Forest and the mission collapsing.
"…What do we do about the ones tailing us? They're closing in."
"Don't tell me you're asking because you don't know."
"It's not that. You're the one with the authority to decide."
Just because Lexy treated me well didn't mean I could forget the gap in our ranks.
"Fair enough. Well — anything that gets in the way of the mission gets cleared. We're not the only ones who can have an accident out here."
"How?"
"You handle it. Easy enough for you, right?"
She had decided not to move herself and leave it to me. She often handed me work under the banner of experience, so the situation was familiar.
I scanned the surroundings.
Sniping was out. Too many obstacles. Dense trees and nameless plants blocked every sightline.
Meet them head-on and fight? Not a bad option, but inefficient.
"I'll use trap magic."
"Trap magic? The military secret art I know?"
"Yes. Air Trap."
Air Trap was a 2-Class secret art — military-issue magic of the Freesel army. One of the military secret arts Instructor Vinous had taught me some time back.
In simple terms, Air Trap was an invisible magical snare. You set conditions and planted it in open air, on a wall, or in the ground.
At my current level, I can hold an Air Trap without a medium for about three hours. That should be more than enough time.
The weakness of Air Trap was that anyone sensitive to mana could detect it easily.
I've spent the last stretch of time researching and modifying Air Trap, so anyone below 2-Class mage level won't notice it. There are no 2-Class mages among the ones chasing us.
High-value personnel like mages had no reason to rot in a demotion unit.
They're tracking us the old-fashioned way — following ground sign. Decent ranger among them, apparently.
Not having to predict their path separately was convenient.
I opened my Astral and activated my mana roads. Mana flowed through all eighteen roads and shaped itself into a formula. I felt it run without obstruction and allowed myself a small grin.
I've been busy these past five months. Researching magic, enduring Mana Essence…
Having Mana Essence forced into the body was hell, but I couldn't deny that it was driving rapid growth.
With my current mana pool, seventeen Air Traps is the ceiling. …Ten should be plenty.
Moving alongside Lexy, I laid the Air Traps as we went.
Second Lieutenant Ollok, platoon leader of the 105th Unit's 1st Platoon, scowled at the snickering of his men.
"Shut it for a minute. Can't you see I'm busting my eyes looking for sign?"
The five subordinates quieted their laughter at his rebuke. The smiles hanging on their mouths, however, did not go away.
"Still nothing, sir?"
"They're snipers, so they're moving in a way that leaves as little trace as possible. Direction is… this way."
"Haha. That's our platoon leader. Even snipers can't shake your tracking."
"I told you to stop laughing."
"You're smiling too, sir."
"……"
Ollok had no comeback. A smile was, in fact, sitting on his own mouth.
How could he not smile? He was fighting to suppress it and force it down, but his body and mind were both running hot with excitement.
A rare chance at serious money.
And a beauty you simply did not find in this godforsaken backwater.
The moment to feed a starved greed and lust was right in front of him. Of course he was smiling.
"But the Major said she wasn't some ordinary woman. What if we end up on the receiving end?"
The subordinate with a habit of fretting spoke up.
"This is Rumel Forest. What is there to worry about?"
They had walked this forest until they were sick of it. Under the pretense of training, they had been running smuggling operations through Rumel Forest for a long time. When they wanted meat, they hunted here. Rumel Forest was their home ground.
"We're the ones with the advantage in these woods. On top of that, the Major even gave us magic rounds. If you want out, get out. Just know you won't see a single coin."
"N-no, sir. I'm not saying I want out."
The timid subordinate shook his head in a hurry.
And as if he had been waiting for the opening, another man spoke up.
"But Platoon Leader. That woman. Isn't it a waste to just have her once and kill her? Can't we subdue her and bring her back to the barracks? I'll raise her properly."
"Bullshit. You know inspectors drop by now and then."
"Leaving her out in Rumel Forest is an option, sir."
"The Major ordered no survivors. Personally, I think a woman like that ought to be kept around and used for a long time… but an order is an order."
"Then this time, if I go first…"
"Corporal Gralton."
"…Yes, sir."
"Don't cross the line."
"…Sorry, sir."
Even while they talked, they never stopped moving.
They pushed familiar plants aside and followed the faint trail.
Fweee—!
At the strange, alien sound, Ollok's feet stopped. He felt a violent rush of wind skim past his hair.
Wind? In a jungle like this?
He turned his head on reflex — and his eyes went wide. Corporal Gralton, the top of his skull split open, was collapsing to the ground.
Thud.
"……"
Shock locked every body in place.