Episode 101: Invasion (1)

The Suwon Air Wing. Headquarters of the Special Mission Battalion.

On an ordinary day the place was quiet, but now the headquarters swarmed with ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠operatives. There was only one reason. With the opening of Phase 3, the Fire-Lightning Mage had ordered every one of them to stand by.

"Whew. It's so quiet."

Seo Haeun, the level-33 shadow assassin, sat on a sofa and watched the empty runway. Nearby, Mincheol had been reading in silence; he muttered the words as if tossing them aside.

"Rest while you still can."

"He's right. Once the busy days hit, we won't even get the chance."

Kang Eun-ji, the healer who had come by for the routine checkup, agreed with him. Haeun, by contrast, let out a heavy sigh.

"I know that. It just feels wrong to sit around when things ought to be at their busiest. The Mage is probably fighting hard even now..."

"Staying put is how we help."

"...That isn't entirely true, you know."

Haeun's face went sullen. She had grown considerably stronger than she had been in the early days of the Cataclysm; recently she had even soloed a level-25 elite, a feat that had earned her, in her own right, a place among the Battalion's finest.

But it still isn't enough.

In the time it took her to struggle through a single elite, the Fire-Lightning Mage had hunted down every champion monster in Gangwon Province. The gap was overwhelming.

Someday, I will too...

She wanted to stand at the Mage's side with a strength worthy of matching his, and to repay the debt she owed him with her head held high. In silence, Haeun clenched her fist.

And then—

"Huh?"

Eun-ji's eyes went suddenly round. A moment later she pointed out the window.

"What is that?"

The runway in front of the hangar. Haeun and Mincheol turned at the same instant, and both of them stared. A magic circle had carved itself into the tarmac out of nowhere. Blinding light burst outward in every direction and flooded the headquarters white.

"Agh—wh-what is that?"

"The light, all of a sudden..."

Operatives inside the building squeezed their eyes shut against the sudden blaze. When the light faded, dozens of people stood where the circle had been. The moment everyone, Haeun included, saw the figure at their center, their eyes flew wide.

"...!"

A black leather jacket and a motorcycle helmet. Only one person walked the Air Wing dressed like that: the Fire-Lightning Mage. The instant Haeun recognized him she was the first out of her seat, sprinting for the mage who had appeared in the middle of the runway.

Meanwhile, at that same moment.

Teleportation had fired true. Phantom and the advance party of the Busan Union arrived safely before the headquarters of the Special Mission Battalion—and the sudden change of scenery left the party looking thoroughly lost.

"Wh-where is this...?"

"It looks like a runway."

"What? So this is an airport?"

Every face was dumbfounded. Seo Subin, too, glanced blankly around, unable to make sense of it. The first to grasp the situation was Seo Jihun.

"...Don't tell me we jumped straight to Suwon."

"Yeah."

Hanseong agreed without fuss, and the rest of them stared in open shock. They had been told there was a way to move in a single jump. None of them had expected to reach the destination this quickly.

Then a familiar voice called from across the field.

"Mage!"

Seo Haeun, the shadow assassin, reached Phantom faster than anyone and pulled up right in front of him.

"What brings you here? And the people with you... I don't think I've seen any of these faces."

"Survivors from Busan."

His voice was calm. Hanseong explained everything that had happened: the incident inside the rift that had opened in Seomyeon, Busan, and the clash with the Busan Union, all of it.

"They're all level 25 or higher. Take them into the Battalion and they'll be a real help."

Level 25 was high enough to throw straight into an elite hunt. At that, Haeun's eyes lit up—and so did Mincheol's and Eun-ji's, a step behind her.

"We'll have to report this to the commander."

"Before that, we should take them to the quarantine zone. We have procedures on our end too."

"Ah, then we'll show ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠them the way."

Battalion members who had followed Haeun out volunteered to lead the way. A short while later, as the whole advance party was about to head for quarantine, Hanseong moved Phantom's arm and caught Subin's hand.

"Wait. You're the exception."

"Huh? M-me?"

"There's someone I want you to meet."

Lee Minjae, the Enchanter, was buried in the work of building a means of transport. Hanseong meant to introduce him to Subin and set the two of them to the job together.

The unexpected words seemed to fluster her. She hesitated, then caught Jihun's hand and looked up at Phantom again.

"Um... can I go with my brother?"

"Fine."

Of course she would be uneasy, dropped into a strange place. Hanseong understood. Once permission was given, the tension left her face, and she turned. The three of them arrived together at the hangar near headquarters—the place where Minjae kept himself.

"Enchanter. You in there?"

"Ah, Mage..."

A moment later Minjae stepped outside. He wore a mechanic's coveralls, and his face was worn thin with fatigue, as if he had been at the work for a very long time. He lowered his head with a sigh.

"I'm sorry. I thought it would be finished early, but there's a problem I can't solve no matter how I turn it over, so I was late getting in touch."

"It's fine. I didn't come to rush you."

"Then... why?"

"There's someone I want to introduce."

"T-to me?"

Hanseong nodded Phantom's head. Subin, who had been listening, edged forward and bowed carefully toward Minjae.

"Ah, hello. I'm Seo Subin."

"Seo Jihun, of the Busan Union."

"Oh—yes. I'm Lee Minjae."

The introductions were brief. Afterward Hanseong summarized Subin's class and skills, and Minjae, who had been listening in silence, started and cried out.

"Y-you can convert machines and weapons so ether replaces the fuel? And an autopilot on top of that...?"

"Yeah. Look at this and you'll see."

Hanseong drew the sport bike out of Inventory. The moment Minjae looked it over, both eyes lit with life.

"Th-this is—!"

The exhausted, listless man was gone without a trace. After a thorough inspection he whirled on Subin.

"Did you build this from scratch?"

"Ah, no. I converted it with a skill."

"Converted? So you can apply it to things that were already made?"

"Yes. That's right."

Subin nodded, and Minjae let out a hollow laugh. His long labor had just been rendered pointless; the emptiness of it must have hit him all at once. Hanseong was on the verge of offering a word of comfort when a smile suddenly bloomed at the corner of Minjae's mouth.

"Thank you, Mage!"

"Hn...?"

"This was the worst headache of the whole job."

The thanks were the last thing Hanseong had expected. Minjae smiled, a little awkward.

"Truth is, the vehicle itself was finished a while ago. I just had no way, with the skills I've learned, to add the autopilot you asked for."

So that was why the work had crawled. Having unburdened himself at last, he grinned wide.

"I was stuck wondering what to do, but if a skill can add it, the build might as well be done!"

"Which means..."

"Yes. I could finish it as early as tonight. Ah—if we count a trial run, it'll take another day or two."

Welcome news. A firm date, at last. Hanseong moved Phantom's arm and clapped Minjae on the shoulder.

"Good. I'll be expecting it."

"Yes! I'll contact you in two days."

That confident answer was the last of it. Hanseong left a word with Subin that he was counting on her, then walked Phantom out of the hangar and sent the replica back to base, its work finished.

At the same time, he opened the map. He wanted to know whether any new rifts had appeared in regions other than Seoul and Busan.

Fortunately, the worry proved groundless.

No new rifts.

He looked north of the armistice line as well, over Kaesong and the Pyongyang area, but there was no trace of a rift there either.

As for everywhere else...

The map could not show him that. His observation range was limited. So Hanseong logged into the Information Strategy Board, meaning to read the eyewitness accounts and live reports left by survivors across the world.

And then one title caught his eye.

The crow shaman he had met inside the rift. Kurogane Kotori had written it.

Right. Now that I think of it...

Just before they left the rift, she had looked as if she had something to say. Remembering that, Hanseong did as she asked and left a comment.

The moment the short comment went up, a reply followed.

Because he had taken it for idle chatter. She pressed him as if demanding an account, and Hanseong wrote the thought down exactly as it came, without softening a word. This time, too, the answer came right back.

When he showed his doubt at the sudden request, Kotori explained the whole of it: a rift that had opened in Sendai, in Miyagi Prefecture, in northeastern Japan.

More than four hundred had gone in? That many? How?

Hadn't the limit been three hundred at most?

The questions were still rising when Hanseong found, in her explanation, the thing that differed from before. The scale.

The rifts in Seoul and Busan had been small, and he had assumed the rest of the world would match them. That judgment, it seemed, had been wrong.

Hanseong's face hardened. That meant some three hundred survivors had died in a single hour. There had to be a considerable enemy inside the rift.

She put the request carefully. Hanseong refused it flat.

Cold, but there was no helping it. Fukuoka, close to the southern coast, he could have approached by planting a base in Busan. The place Kotori had named was simply too far. He had no way to cross the sea in the first place.

Unless a Moving Fortress comes along that can fly, going abroad is out of the question.

He explained that much in a suitably roundabout way. A little later Kotori answered, and the tone, to his surprise, was calm.

The last of it, at least, was sincere. Fail to destroy a rift's owner, he had been told, and a calamity would follow. He prayed that she would somehow bring that owner down.

"All right. Next..."

Time to see how the other regions stood. Hanseong shook off the stray thoughts and read through the posts and comments on the Information Strategy Board, trying to learn how many rifts had ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠opened across the world.

Two days later.

Hanseong opened his eyes in the early morning and, as always, spread the map. It was one of the routines with which he began a day. At the same time he checked his status, to see what had changed over those two days.

In that time he had gained two levels. Clearing the owners of the rifts in Seoul and Busan, and then hunting the champion monsters still left across the country, had done it.

Three champions in Gyeongsang. One in Jeolla, and one on Jeju. Five in all—and with their fall, no champion-grade monster remained in Korea.

And...

He had gained something else along the way. Two skills he already held had met their conditions and undergone skill evolution.

The first was Call Lightning, the spell that had given him his alias: the Fire-Lightning Mage.

It dropped a dozen or more bolts across a set area, and spending more mana to add bolts widened the strike as well. On paper the area outstripped even Magic Sphere. He had yet to test it, so he could not say which hit harder.

The second evolved skill was Tinder.

It drank more mana each second than Tinder had, but Hanseong did not mind. A new effect let him absorb the ether of any enemy he burned, and another waited beyond that: a special effect that triggered once he had burned a hundred or more. What that effect actually was, he had not yet learned. He had never used the skill.

There had been chances, a few of them. He simply had not taken them. The reason was simple.

It's almost the forty-eighth hour.

Every rift had been given a time limit, and little of it remained. He had no wish to spend a powerful skill on a whim.

Three rifts still uncleared.

About five minutes were left before the deadline. Clearing them now was impossible. All he could do was brace for the calamity that would inevitably follow. Face grave, Hanseong fixed his eyes on the Information Strategy Board.

Not long after, the time limit reached its end.

A red warning rose before Hanseong and every other survivor.

With the warning as the last of it, a sound like glass—or like thin ice—breaking tapped clear against his ear.

And in that instant, a new notice appeared.

The great calamity the Tower's administrator, Ei, had warned of—and, with it, the notice that declared its beginning.