Investigation
Two masked figures burst out from the explosion first.
Slash!
I immediately severed one's throat.
The remaining one...
Crack-crunch!!
Its head froze solid in an instant.
Lorentz's doing, no doubt.
The freezing speed was unreal—faster even than my swing.
Thud!
Thud!
The headless corpse and the frozen-headed one hit the floor.
Whoosh-thwip!
Then sharp arrows rained in from the shattered door.
"These bastards."
But.
Fwoosh.
Lorentz muttered a quiet curse, and a magic circle glowed in his hand.
Thud-thud-thud!
The arrows halted midair, embedded in nothing.
"Attack."
With that word, he hurled a glowing orb toward the entrance where the masked intruders had appeared.
His subordinates charged in right after.
Subduing the ambushing masked figures didn't take long after that.
"Hoo."
Lorentz didn't look winded at all—he'd dispatched one in a flash and blocked every incoming arrow. He'd left the small fry to his men and conserved his strength.
"I heard there was a mage interfering with detection spells. Looks like it was true."
Saying that, he nudged the masked man whose head he'd frozen, flipping the body over.
"Mel, check it."
One of his subordinates—a woman called Mel—stepped forward at his words and placed her hand on the corpse.
Fwoosh!
Light poured from her palm, and the body began to rot away rapidly.
"Demon Worshippers, as expected."
...What the hell was that?
"What did you do?"
I had no idea why the corpse was rotting or how he'd pegged them as Demon Worshippers.
"Mel's a devout priestess. And demons are anathema to the gods."
"Ah."
"A dog of the demons can't enter heaven after death—it goes straight to hell. Obvious, really."
...So that's it.
A dead Demon Worshipper's corpse, touched by holy power, rots at hyperspeed and ships straight to hell.
"More importantly—is hell really underground?"
But how did that even work? How did Demon Worshippers end up in hell after death, and how did demons exert influence from there?
"Heaven and hell exist, with the mortal world in between. Common knowledge."
"So heaven's up in the sky?"
"Where else would it be?"
Lorentz answered like I'd asked something stupid.
And I got another shock.
...Hell deep underground, heaven high in the skies?
Shouldn't this be a fantasy world with other dimensions?
"Physically up there?"
"Yes, but humans burn up if they get too close—their mortal frames can't handle it."
Mel, the priestess, answered my question, which must've sounded idiotic by this world's standards.
...Like the Icarus myth, I guess.
Hard to swallow, but with magic, Aura, gods, and demons around, it tracked.
"We'll skip the underworld for now."
"Investigation over?"
"Yes. Confirmed Demon Worshippers—mission accomplished."
Lorentz shook frost from his gloves—magic backlash, probably—and turned to leave.
"Everyone, stay alert. We're pulling out."
One clash down, so he wanted to bail fast.
No complaints from me—crawling deeper into the enemy hive? Pass. I followed quick.
"Enemies might evade detection. Don't drop your guard."
We crossed the third floor faster than on the way in, eyes scanning everywhere.
The building I'd admired before now looked like a nest of hiding spots for foes.
...Yeah, definitely a deathtrap.
But Lorentz eased my nerves.
Quick decisions, and above all, a damn good mage.
He kept drawing magic circles in his hands, ready for any ambush.
"Third-floor entrance. Breach fast."
We reached the stairs we'd come down.
"Lane."
He called me, specifically.
"Yes."
I channeled Aura through my body and dashed ahead, activating Track to scan the entrance and beyond.
Track didn't just slow the world—it pierced darkness too.
"Clear."
"Breach fast."
His team poured out after my check.
Boom!
Lorentz sealed the entrance with an ice pillar spell.
"Now out."
Blocked so they couldn't pursue.
We bolted for the stairs to the first underground level.
The biggest hurdle—third floor—passed smoothly.
Thanks to his sharp calls... or maybe the enemy sent us?
Either way, we hit the long, dark sewer.
This stretch belonged to Adel Kingdom, so probably no enemies—but we stayed tense, torches sweeping as we moved.
"Stairs ahead. Check, then up."
We neared the stairs to underground level one.
Fwoosh!
Lorentz's ongoing magic circle flared.
"Ambush."
Ambush? Detection spell?
I halted, eyes darting.
From the stairs ahead? Or behind us?
Pinning the direction—
"Below!"
Splash! Slash!
Masked figures erupted from the sewer water.
...Crazy—the water wasn't even deep.
And then.
"Front and rear too."
Disaster: shadows swarmed from both sides.
...They were waiting.
Slash!
I cleaved the ones rising from the water first. We were outnumbered—minimize our exposure.
"Watch it—elites incoming."
And as Lorentz warned, ominous auras pulsed from the front and rear packs.
"Lorentz, which way?"
"I'll take rear."
His men were solid, but those elites were Aura users at least.
We had to split them.
"Got it."
So.
I mopped the water risers quick, wrapped myself in max Aura, and charged the swarm.
Boom!
"Gah!"
Rush impact blasted two masked foes flying.
Sliced throats on the followers.
Cull the weak fast to thin numbers—
"I'll handle this one."
A voice from the pack, and—
Swoosh!
A sword thrust from the dark.
Clang!
Parried, fell back a step.
No joke—this guy's skilled.
Above Deron or Caiden, easy.
Even I had to focus.
So.
Shing.
I maxed my Aura, drew steel.
Clang!
He countered.
We sized each other up in that clash.
...Stronger than I thought.
Crisis prickled my skull just staring him down.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
Blades flew after the first lock.
I mixed Boyd swordsmanship, swung aggressive—he parried calm.
Around us, his masked allies clashed with Lorentz's crew.
Rear was Lorentz solo; most hit front.
His burden heavy—needed to end quick.
Fwoosh!
He thought same: our clashing blades condensed Aura.
...Rush?
Felt it—activated Fleet instantly.
Dodge the attack.
Fleet kicked in: pulled blade, dropped center low, spun sword full circle.
Then.
Nearly prone, whipped the spun blade at him.
Track with Fleet tracked his moves.
His eyes locked on me—no reaction.
...No Fleet?
Even as my blade arced for his throat, no dodge—hesitated.
Clang!!
Hit neck like steel—shock jarred my arm.
His delayed Rush exploded in air.
Reeled back past him, stunned.
...Guard? That tough?
Guarding gear or limbs? Sure.
But solely Guarding a sword swing to the throat? Never crossed my mind.
Anyway.
Behind him now, but held off follow-up—waited his move.
Why? I'd burned Fleet; he'd saved his.
Fwoosh!
Yeah.
Hed blast Fleet for the win.
In Track's slowed world.
His blade incoming.
Couldn't match post-Fleet, but curled tight, minimized exposure.
His thrust speared my open gut.
Trusted the armor there, piled Guard on abdomen.
Then.
Boom!!
"Guh!"
Not stabbed—hammer blow. Body flung back.
...Guard level too low—couldn't absorb.
Should've drilled Guard over Fleet.
Dodging fine usually—but against this tier? Rethink.
Still...
Live first, train later.
His blade speared my crumbling form.
Clang!
Regained balance barely, met it.
Stance wrecked—I'd lose normally.
But one card left.
Rush.
Untapped till now—blade swelled.
Bang!!
Rush shock shattered both swords.
"...!"
"Hah!"
Damn, my sword too!
Aimed for his only—botched control in haste.
But.
His balance cracked from the Rush.
Skree!
Knees bent extreme, gripped floor, lunged with broken blade at his uncentered form.
Dark sewer—couldn't see into that black hood, but silver edge straight in.
Sting.
Prickle at nape after ages.
Danger signal here?
He got a reserve?
Stance broken, no allies near.
I had this—normally thrust home.
But instincts saved my hide too often.
Skree!
Forced hard brake, joints straining.
Then.
Fwoosh!
From the dark.
No—from inside his pitch hood.
A massive hand shot out.
...!
What the—!
Arched back, head snapped away.
Crack!
Nails grazed nose hairs; hand clenched empty air before me.
...Close—face would've been crushed.
What body has arms on its face?
Heightened senses saved me.
"Hrrgh..."
Dodged, but stance wrecked bending back from hard stop—gut wide open.
His arm retracted; broken blade stabbed my side.
Guard...!
Focused barely on abdomen Guard.
"Rush."
His word, and—
Boom!!
"Ngh!"
Scraped-together Guard shattered; body rolled across wet floor.
"Gah! Cough!"
Dizzy head pain.
"Huu..."
But mind sharpened.
This pain? Old friend.
Rolled further, retook stance on rebound.
Focused as he closed for the kill.
Normal guy? Tapped out.
But I'm not.
Life-death brink honed senses—not on him, on Aura.
And soon.
Shing!
His broken blade swung.
Shallow line from right collarbone to left underarm.
But.
Whoosh!
No blood sprayed.
"...!"
His blade cleaved my afterimage.
Already behind via Boyd's Esoteric Fleet.
Empty back—precisely, heart.
Stab!
Shoved the broken edge home.