Operation
The ogre's skin was disgustingly tough.
Especially a mutated one like that.
Didn't you see that gray-brown, cracked hide earlier?
It took a collective effort>collective Rush from the Royal Knights and still came out in tatters.
And now even its leg was regenerating.
But.
Groooaaarrr!!
The arm that Arthur Clayton had just sliced off wasn't even dreaming of regeneration—it was howling in agony instead.
Impressive.
Could I do something like that if I became an Aura Master?
I'd heard that unique techniques vary based on personal enlightenment, so probably not the exact same one.
Anyway, before that...
“Everyone, prepare for ambush!”
Just like that knight had said—we needed to brace for more attacks.
That fireball from earlier.
It screamed demon worshippers' handiwork.
So they were planning to intervene while the ogre was still alive, after all.
And sure enough, that thought proved right.
“Enemies spotted on both flanks!”
Black-masked figures began emerging from beyond the forest.
“Leave the ogre to me—everyone else, handle the demon worshippers!”
They'd burst out like this without manners so many times before that we smoothly shifted formation at Arthur Clayton's shout, like clockwork.
We'd already prepped on the way here, so unlike our usual drills, there were no major hitches...
“Watch out for that magic from before, everyone!”
That fireball just now.
It was dangerous.
A flaming orb with enough speed to tag a knight mid-Fleet.
Granted, since the commander came out unscathed, its power didn't seem overwhelming... but magic was magic. Better safe.
One arrow could change everything in a fight between Aura users.
And fireballs? That said it all.
Anyway.
I drew my sword as I watched the knights scatter to engage the masked foes.
Then.
“Hey, Lane...”
“I'll head that way.”
Boom!
I shot toward the nearest masked figure.
This operation felt like it might wrap up the investigation, so.
Time to rack up some merits in one go.
Seemed like they valued demon worshipper kills over mutated monsters anyway.
Stab!
“Gahk!”
I drove my blade into the closest demon worshipper's chest.
Thud!
Yanked it free while kicking him flying.
“Hoo.”
There'd been serious resistance shoving the sword in.
I flipped the crumpled worshipper over—yep, mutated skin.
These guys almost never had Aura users among them.
To close the power gap, more and more were mutating themselves like monsters.
And this time, it looked like an all-out push...
Thud! Thud!!
Yeah, no surprise something that unrecognizable as orc or man was charging in.
Hell, there were even mutated orcs behind it?
How the fuck did they drag monsters here without getting spotted?
Swish.
I spun my sword to flick off the blood and rocketed toward the next masked goon and his mutated orc buddy.
“Graaaargh!!”
I dodged the arm of the masked guy—his head looked fully orced now, bellowing like an idiot as he swung.
Grind—slash!
I forced through the tough hide and severed his neck.
“Gurk...!”
He deflated like a punctured lung and dropped.
I barreled straight into the mutated orc behind him.
Top-tier mutated monsters like the ogre? No chance—just run.
Mid-tier? Different story.
Groooaaar—!!
As the orc closed in, I yanked a dagger from my belt and hurled it.
Tiny thing like that? Orc wouldn't bat an eye.
'Esoteric Rush.'
Boom!!
The dagger swelled mid-flight and detonated right in the orc's face.
Kraaagh!
Blasted point-blank, it reeled, dazed.
Wish I could've buried the dagger in its face and blown it up from inside.
But Rush wouldn't trigger on contact with the target's body—messes with Aura flow. Even experts couldn't pull it off, per Rowell.
Anyway.
I closed in while it staggered.
Then.
Crack!!
Grabbed its head and jammed my sword down its gaping maw.
Mutated freaks had skin like iron—mouth was the sweet spot.
Gack—gurgle!
The orc gurgled like the masked guy and hit the dirt.
Processed both in seconds. I scanned around.
I'd noticed during those three kills—no interference.
Clashes echoed through the forest everywhere.
Probably keeping everyone from reaching Arthur Clayton in that clearing, dueling the mutated ogre solo.
Boom—!! Kaboom!!
I caught sight of him trading blows with the one-armed beast.
Couldn't spam that technique, huh?
Still, the way he dodged with precision... time was on his side. Victory was obvious.
The problem was...
“Graaaargh!!”
The masked bastards knew it too.
What the hell were they thinking?
We had main force soldiers and mage support incoming, probably already en route.
We held every advantage.
Desperation gamble since it was their last stand?
Well, whatever.
Kaboom! Boom!
He looked slightly pinned for now.
I glanced around and joined the nearest skirmish.
“Surround him, everyone!”
“We need a coordinated assault!”
Surprisingly, four of our knights here—against a single masked man, not even a top-tier mutant.
“...What the hell is this guy?”
“Careful—he's no pushover.”
Yeah, I got that... but why couldn't they take him?
His whole body was wrapped tight, skin hidden, but he didn't have four arms or anything.
Anyway.
With me joining, five Aura users ringed the man.
We were short on numbers overall—needed to drop him fast and rotate.
Others looked tense, so something was up. I hung back.
“Hey, just get out of my way.”
Shockingly, the masked guy spoke first.
Voice cracked like it was distorted, but demon worshippers rarely talked first. Odd.
Then his next words floored me.
“Chop your commander's head off, and we'll leave clean.”
...This fucker insane?
Aura Master or what?
Nah, didn't seem like it.
Whatever.
“Coordinated assault.”
Our side wasn't dragging this out either—we lunged as one.
They skipped me since our timing was off.
The four knights charged in sequence, like when they'd bagged that multi-armed freak earlier.
“Follow my lead, one by one.”
The first knight who spoke barreled ahead—a burly one with a massive sword.
In the slowed world of Track, he Fleeted first.
“Hm?”
Kaboom!
“Guh!”
The masked guy's perfectly timed Rush countered him—body launched flying.
...Countered without Fleet?
Predicted the landing spot with Track and Rushed it, looks like.
“Going in!”
One knight down quick, but we had four left.
Undeterred, another Fleeted from the flank.
Clang!
Guard blocked it this time.
Talk of taking the commander wasn't bluff—highly skilled Aura user.
As the blocked knight braced for counter, the third Fleeted in.
“Hey, you.”
The masked guy locked eyes on me.
Kaboom!!
Smashed the head of the knight who'd just been blocked.
Then fast—Fleet-fast even accounting for that—closed on us.
Naturally brushed close to the advancing knight.
Swish—boom!!
Like swatting a kid, pulverized him head-on.
“Move.”
Sliced at the last knight Fleeting in near me.
That instant.
I Fleeted straight at the masked man too.
Strongest foe I'd faced yet.
Going one-by-one was suicide—obvious we'd get picked off.
Right as I aimed to join the swarm.
Zing—
That familiar.
Dizzying instinct hit—I twisted away on reflex.
But...
Kaboom!
“Gahk!”
It nailed the knight beside me.
“Huh.”
Why didn't it come my way?
Instinct wrong?
Or feint?
Sent killing intent to bait a feint?
“Still relying on that weird sense, huh.”
Confusion shook my Fleet.
Thud!
Fist cracked my skull—I tumbled back.
“What the...”
“Grown a fuckton—didn't think it was you, punk.”
But.
The masked man loomed over my sprawled form, spouting weird shit.
“Heard you turned into some rich kid's mutt, but damn, you're looking pampered. Owner treating you right?”
What the...
I surged up for counter.
Crunch.
“Guh!”
His boot pinned my chest.
Tried rising—immense pressure glued me down.
What strength...
“You little shit, don't you recognize your benefactor?”
As I scowled and thrashed, he yanked off his mask.
“Ha, you dense fuck.”
Then.
Clear voice rang out, and his face hit me like a thunderbolt.
“...Alden?”
“Yeah. Been a goddamn age.”
Incredibly.
The masked man who'd dropped our four knights in a blink.
Was Alden, the ex-champion who'd escaped the Colosseum five years back.