WeTried Translations x Flame Comics
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 103: 15. Real Combat Is Standard for Academy Summer Vacation Events (8)
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If the enemy had not sent a strike team specifically to ambush the Hero Party, if they had simply run into them while on patrol and started fighting.
Then, at that moment, the roles of attacker and target would reverse. Now, the prey would hunt the hunter. Isabelle lay in wait, gripping her sword hilt tightly with sweat-slick hands.
-Rustle.
A loud sound came from the brush. Someone was forcing their way through the dense trees.
Then came the clinking scrape of metal. Heavy armor, and the sound of long shafts periodically striking the ground.
Ah, so this was why Uncle had emphasized listening carefully.
Only now did Isabelle understand. Superhumans did not hold an overwhelming advantage over other humans simply because they were faster and stronger.
Hearing, sight, touch, spatial awareness, cognitive ability. The instant mana reinforced their nerves, every sensory system surpassed that of an ordinary human.
In the realm of superhumans, those who were not superhuman could never ambush one.
Determining an opponent's position through sound, smell, and the like was simply common sense to them.
-Tap.
Calmly, Isabelle made a hand signal. It was a prearranged code, an open hand waved twice.
[Wait.]
Soon, four orcs entered their field of view.
‘Four.’
There were two more than before. Their scouting parties must have been steadily disappearing, so they had reinforced their numbers. It was easy enough to predict.
They would have struggled if this had been their first encounter. Not now. They had already experienced more than enough close combat with orcs.
What had he said again?
Ah.
‘A properly trained agent does not struggle in the same situation twice.’
Remembering Ivan's voice, Isabelle tightened her grip on her sword.
Just a little closer. A little more.
There was an invisible line beyond the orcs' field of vision. The moment they crossed it.
‘Now!’
Isabelle clenched her open hand into a fist and waved it back and forth three times.
-Fweeeet!!
With a thin whistle cutting through the air, an invisible little dagger flew in and severed the line. Elphihara's sniper shot.
The orcs reacted the instant they heard it, grabbing their spears. They were quick. They would certainly have been troublesome opponents head-on.
These were elite soldiers capable of infiltrating deep into Krasilov. Isabelle swallowed hard and rose.
“Oscar!”
“Yes!!”
From different directions, Isabelle and Oscar charged at the same time. The orcs screamed in their grotesque language and raised their spears.
Then, between them.
-KWAAAANG!!
A thick tree trunk came crashing down as though stamping a seal. One orc was crushed beneath it, while the other three leaped away in panic, each in a different direction.
“Esi!!”
Isabelle shouted as she swung her sword at an orc rushing toward her. A moment later, Aesidis sprang out from behind a shrub and struck the orc's back.
-KLANG!!
“Khugh?!”
The orc twisted in the air and lost its balance. Isabelle swiftly thrust her sword into a gap in its armor, then spun away.
What about Oscar? Isabelle and Aesidis immediately turned toward the direction he had gone.
-Whoosh!!
A fist-sized fireball slammed into the head of the orc that had been bringing its spear-axe down on Oscar's shield.
“Did you finish it?”
“It’s already taken care of over there!”
“Good.”
The fleeing orc had fallen into the trap Aesidis prepared and died. At least it had been killed by a trap made with its comrades' spears, so it probably had no right to complain.
Wiping away the sweat running down her face, Isabelle looked over her gathering party members.
“Anyone hurt?”
“If anyone got hurt after all this preparation, they wouldn’t even be human anymore.”
“Wasn't Miss Elphihara somewhere safe?”
“In this forest? Safe?”
“That’s true. In any case, it seems no one is hurt, Miss Isabelle.”
Isabelle looked over the party with a pleased smile. They were working together better and better. Everyone knew their role without needing to be told, and their coordination was excellent.
Was this why our parents had traveled together too?
For some reason, she felt a little proud.
Isabelle wiped the blood from her blade and smiled brightly.
“A trap right where they avoided the first one. That’s some impressive improvisation, Miss Aesidis.”
“Hehe, it’s just common sense! Please call me Esi, Oscar.”
“For the record, I’d prefer it if you didn’t call me by a nickname. And while you’re at it, do not address me familiarly like Miss Elphihara. Refer to me properly as Lady Grikenkos.”
“Can someone hit her once?”
Despite saying that, Elphihara was giggling. Seeing her, Isabelle and the other party members all broke into muffled laughter.
In a forest full of traps and enemies, even as they unraveled the demonfolk's conspiracy, whose identity and purpose remained unknown.
The fact that they had gathered as one to drive the demonfolk from human land and rescue the mentor who had done so much for them felt a little embarrassing, but it wasn't unpleasant.
* * *
“An eye?”
Ivan set down his fine saw and asked. The thing that had once been an orc panted heavily, staring up at Ivan with unfocused eyes.
Click, the sound of a bottle cap being twisted off rang out. The orc trembled and frothed at the mouth.
“It’s true! I’m telling you, it’s true! Put that, that thing down!! J-just... just kill me instead!!”
“Why say something so hurtful? There’s still much I’m curious about.”
“I told you everything I know! It’s true. Please, spare me. No, no, kill me! I really don’t know anything else!”
“I salute your loyalty and endurance.”
Ivan slowly tipped a healing potion over the orc's wounds.
“The fact that you have endured such harsh suffering without opening your mouth proves you are better than the countless pieces of trash in your homeland.”
“What the hell are you talking about?! I told you everything I know!!”
“And you expect me to believe that?”
Ivan nodded toward the long rod lying beside the orc.
A crystal sphere that appeared to be polished obsidian was set at its tip. At a glance, it was an extremely suspicious magical artifact.
Naturally, an object like that was never to be handled or moved directly. It was because of the malicious wisdom demonfolk had gained during their long war with humanity.
Humans had a habit of collecting objects that looked mysterious or unusual.
Once the demonfolk noticed that trait, they began mass-producing things that only looked impressive and planting every kind of curse in them.
With the front lines retreating, the state weakened, and the poorly educated conscripts starving, they could not easily resist the temptation of such “treasures.”
Even Ivan had once lost his sight for three days after picking up an astonishingly sharp steel axe. Fortunately, he could replace sight with hearing in those days, so he got through the crisis unharmed. (Enrika had lamented over why he had picked up something like that and gotten himself cursed in the first place.)
In any case, the single most important wartime maxim from those days was this.
Never touch a suspicious artifact dropped by demonfolk without a detailed appraisal.
“It’s true. I’m telling you. Just... just hold it once...”
“Do you think a trick like that will work on me?”
“I’m really going insane. Just kill me.”
The orc had apparently given up. Even the fear of a healing potion had failed to open this steadfast warrior's mouth.
Ivan felt a measure of respect. The amount of healing potion poured into this demihuman's body had already exceeded a lethal dose. (Healing potions were not poison, so the concept of a lethal dose did not exist. They were good for the body.)
No, it had to say something that made sense.
The artifact called the eye at the end of this staff had suddenly ordered them to bring an army here.
And it had shown them the future at intervals, providing infiltration routes that would avoid the Krasilov military's attention?
Did the orc expect anyone in the world to believe that? Even after enduring all that torture... the rapport-building process?
The Counterintelligence Command's rapport-building process, especially the kind used by former Annihilation Unit personnel, was not something one could endure with a sound mind.
“Here is what I think, orc.”
“...?”
“Someone in Krasilov's military, or among its high nobility. Perhaps several nobles resented the royal family. Most likely because they bore a grudge over the previous purge, or wished to check the authority of the crown.”
“...?”
Ivan continued slowly, looking down into the orc's eyes.
“During that process, they must have thought to use you as mercenaries. Using humans would leave a trail, but demonfolk would only become targets for extermination. Even if you were captured and gave testimony, demonfolk testimony could never be used as evidence in a human court. How clean.”
“...???”
“But they would have realized that such a small force could not attack Pritchenkaya. They needed a larger army. How could they summon one? The answer was simple. Assassinate the children of the Hero Party.”
“The, the Hero Party's children...? W-what... what does that... mean...???”
How shameless.
Ivan frowned at the orc attempting the sophisticated act of acting. It was even doing rather well, looking genuinely aggrieved.
But a trained agent never judged a situation by emotions displayed on the surface.
Everything had to be resolved rationally, through common sense and evidence.
“What you did not know, or... what the people who bought you hid from you was that my subordinates and I were here. So speak. Who is it?”
At that point, the orc shaman squeezed its eyes shut and gave up answering.
Ivan nodded and granted this loyal demonfolk a peaceful end.
-CRUNCH!!
Ivan lowered his blood-dripping axe and turned his head.
There were still four living orcs here. He had selected and captured only those who appeared far too strong for Isabelle's party to defeat.
And in demonfolk society, where strength itself proved authority, a strong individual was also a higher-ranking individual.
In other words, the commander-class members of this raiding party had been gathered here. Unlike the other warrior ranks, these ones were likely to know something.
-Thud!
The headless shaman collapsed into the brush. At the sound, the gagged orcs all flinched.
Walking toward them, Ivan spoke.
“One.”
Ivan placed a hand on the gag of the nearest one.
“Only one needs to live. Just one who can give testimony.”
“Mmph...! Mmph...!”
“I want you to live. Do you feel the same?”
“Mmph! Mmmph!!”
“Let’s find out.”
Ivan held several entirely harmless tools before the orc's eyes and removed the gag.
The pants of the other orcs waiting their turn darkened.
* * *
“The Eye of the Demon King...?”
“Yes, yes! It’s the Demon King's... no, that horned bastard's eyeball! Sir! Elder!! That’s what they call the artifact! It shows the future...! Y-yes, yes!!”
“This shows the future.”
“Yes! Yes, it does!!”
“And it told you to come here.”
“Yes!!”
“Why?”
“Th-that, that, we don’t know either...”
After clearing away three corpses, Ivan fell into thought.
If all five gave the same statement, even after undergoing the rapport-building process, that supported the reliability of the information.
Testimony was like blurry footage. Even if torture had lowered its resolution, overlaying the same testimony again and again improved the overall image quality.
In other words, when identical testimony from different people accumulated, it approached a trustworthy fact.
“The Eye of the Demon King sees the future.”
It was possible. He could not understand the principle, but if it was the Demon King, perhaps seeing the future was nothing extraordinary.
Still, the fact that those who possessed such an incredible artifact as the Eye of the Demon King were this ragtag bunch...
‘No.’
Each individual would put an ordinary knight to the test, but they were still beatable.
More importantly, they had succeeded in infiltrating deep into Krasilov. If mere orcs, idiots with nothing to do with infiltration operations, had entered without being noticed by anyone.
If there were no internal collaborator, that was simply their skill. They might have been an elite formation within an orc infiltration unit.
If they had encountered Isabelle's party without incident, they could certainly have won with ease.
‘The stage difficulty is rising too sharply.’
And Isabelle's party was still too fragile. If he had not actively intervened in the level design, they would not have survived this long.
On top of that.
‘If the Eye of the Demon King is truly the Demon King's eye. If the dead Demon King can still project some kind of will onto their subordinates.’
What did they hope to gain by doing something so complicated and pointless?
A certain piece of common sense suddenly came to Ivan's mind, and he shuddered.
‘It wanted the protagonist party to grow...?’
The Demon King. Or one of the demonfolk who had created that artifact.
They wanted the protagonist party to grow?
As if they were saying this to Ivan.
‘I’ll give you the ingredients, so prepare them and feed them to the protagonist party.’
It was as though they had anticipated Ivan leading the protagonist party through training. Selecting forces difficult to face, yet still possible to defeat somehow.
Even accounting for the forces that would be lost along the way, sending enough of them, but at the same time, a small elite force that would not draw the Krasilov military's attention.
Striking that delicate balance.
Ivan felt chills crawl across his skin as he stared at the staff containing the Eye of the Demon King.
Pressing a finger behind his ear, he whispered.
“Headquarters. This is O1.”
-Headquarters, receiving.
“I need a mage capable of curse removal and mental protection.”
-Curse removal, mental protection. Confirming situation.
“Estimated time?”
-Three hours. Can be assigned to the headquarters command and control center by 2130 hours.
“Confirmed.”
-Confirmed.
After issuing the brief orders, Ivan cut the rope binding the orc's body.
The orc flinched in terror as Ivan's axe cut through the air, then forced itself to raise its head.
In the darkness of the forest, Ivan's expression could not be seen with the moonlight at his back.
His blue eyes gleamed beneath the shadows.
“From now on, you are this stage's boss.”
“...?”
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Footnotes:
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