WeTried Translations

Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B

Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried

Chapter 33: A Night of Counting Stars (7)

──────

* * *

"Drop your weapons and surrender!!"

Behind them was the carriage, whose occupants showed no sign of coming out until this was over.

Before them stood countless elves, weapons drawn and growling threateningly.

Above them was the vast sky. If they fell, they would be smashed to pieces.

"Ha, what a perfect day to die."

Eugene cracked the joke with a gloomy face. He raised his shield and sword, settled into a stance, then suddenly shoved Yuri forward.

"Uh...?"

"Go, Yuri Frank! Top student of Saint Yansk University's Knight Department!"

"Uh, what...?"

Yuri stumbled a step forward, wearing a stunned expression.

"Um, I'm the vanguard, but... me alone? Really?"

"I'm from the twenty-first century, I've never fought anyone!"

"I was an illustrator!!"

"You're in the Knight Department!"

"You're holding a weapon too!"

"It's for self-defense!"

As the two started bickering, the elves surrounding them stared in bewilderment.

They sounded like students, but how had they gotten here? And why?

They had even armed themselves and launched a surprise attack, only to shove each other forward and tell the other to fight...?

"What should we do with them?"

"Looks like some human nobles came out for a little fun. Deal with them appropriately. Don't kill them."

University students were nobles by default. They had to be, to afford the murderous tuition. If the elves captured them, they could negotiate with the Krasilov monarchy on somewhat better terms.

The deck officer sighed as he spoke, and the crew reluctantly raised their weapons.

Fortunately, their opponents were young humans who seemed to have neither the will nor the experience to fight.

Behind the two armed intruders, the tall man in a hood let out a long sigh and raised a hand.

"Idiots. What kind of party has one front liner and two back liners? Have you never played a game before?"

Oswald waved his hand and wove a spell. Purple mana writhed, forming strange shapes at his gesture.

[Bestow Courage]. It was a low-level spell, but Oswald knew from experience that Eugene had no immunity to mind sorcery.

That was only natural. Transmigrators who had just arrived from the twenty-first century could not possibly resist mind sorcery that had to be overcome through sheer will.

-Kiiiiing!

"Ugh."

Eugene's head dropped.

"W-what did you do?"

"I gave him a little courage. I'll support you, so hold them off from the front until, um, Ivan gets here."

"Uh... okay. Um, Eugene?"

Eugene had his head lowered, muttering something under his breath.

"Hey? Are you all right?"

"Yevgeny."

"...What?"

"My name is Yevgeny Novikov Karamzin."

With the hand gripping his sword, Eugene made a small sign of the cross. Then he kissed the blade and whispered.

"May the Lord watch over our battle today."

"Um, Oswald? I think you cast the wrong spell."

"That can't be right. It was [Bestow Courage]..."

Ignoring the confused transmigrators' conversation, Eugene quietly opened his eyes.

Blue eyes burned with unshakable resolve as he raised his sword high.

"Praise the Lord's glory. He upholds virtue through justice and brings peace to this land."

"Um..."

"Did something clash because courage got added to a priest class mixed with a swordsman class?"

"That's... really something. Don't ever use that on me. I'll handle things myself."

Had he lost his sense of self? Yuri trembled in fear.

Perhaps that was what happened when someone transmigrated into a game's setting, lost their identity, and became completely immersed in roleplaying.

Then if Yuri became immersed in roleplaying in an academy erotic game about abuse, what would her own identity even turn into?

Better to pick up a sword and fight. Fortunately, Yuri had a talent for swordsmanship. She was the Knight Department's top student, after all.

"Heretics!! Hear the holy word of our Lord God!! Worship Him! Praise Him!!"

Eugene roared and charged forward, swinging his sword without warning. Boom! A violent blast rang out as white light flared from his blade and exploded.

"[Holy Smite]...!"

"That idiot. He should've learned healing skills instead."

Yuri and Oswald grumbled as they followed Eugene, who was charging ahead.

The three transmigrators succeeded in causing a commotion on the deck. Everything was proceeding according to Ivan's plan.

* * *

Ivan walked down the dark corridor inside the ship, where warning lights flashed, and listened closely.

Wheee, wheee. He mapped out every faint sound audible beneath the blaring siren.

In a confined indoor space, repeated noise could be used as a form of echolocation if one could distinguish the source of the sound.

His hearing was not as sharp as an elf's, but a sufficiently trained agent could identify objects from the delay left behind as echoes struck them.

Using that method, Ivan sensed two people standing around the corner before he even turned it.

-Bang!

He fired almost the instant he showed himself in the corridor. Startled, the enemy hurriedly twisted aside and evaded the line of fire.

They have line-of-fire detection.

Ivan nodded and drew his axe.

"Who are you!"

The question was wrong. It told him exactly how poorly trained they were.

The first principle was to neutralize an enemy after being fired upon, then ask questions. And when the opponent was plainly hostile, asking their identity was an especially foolish thing to do.

So instead of answering, Ivan launched himself forward. The inexperienced elf crewman had to pay for asking the wrong question.

-Whoosh.

-Boom!

"Urgh!"

The axe spun through the air and slammed into the elf's neck. It was a clean, powerful strike. The elf let out a choking cry and crashed into the wall.

At the same time, Ivan raised his pistol and aimed it at the other one rushing toward him. Without even aiming, he fired.

-Bang!!

"You bastard!"

Naturally, the elf dodged. They had line-of-fire detection. But in that brief instant when they twisted to evade the firing line, Ivan got the time he needed.

By the time the elf turned back, Ivan was already swinging the axe beneath their jaw.

-Boom!!

With their jaw knocked sideways, the elf crumpled without even managing a groan.

Since Ivan had struck with the flat rather than the blade, it was more like being hit with a short club than an axe. Still, as long as they did not die, that was enough.

Ivan nudged the elf with the broken jaw aside with his foot and moved on.

-Wheeeeeee!

-Wheeeee!!

The siren blared through the corridor.

Through the noisy hall filled with the hum of red warning lights, Ivan walked with his eyes closed.

Wheee, wheee. He calculated the delay in the sound waves scattering through every corner of the corridor.

* * *

Onest, captain of the Kallion Archipelago's Wolfstahl-class air warship, the Glory of Boyle, frowned in his captain's quarters.

The last report he had received had clearly said, "Unidentified students attempted a raid. We are attempting to subdue them."

The attack had happened at the exact moment he was preparing a secret agreement with Crown Prince Alexander's envoy, so it had put him on edge, but that was all.

Was it not his own fault for mooring a ship above a university in the first place?

Young people that age were full of blood and bravado. After having a drink or two, they might well have tried to infiltrate with levitation magic.

At that age, it was only normal to want to prove one's courage or nerve.

But still.

"Why haven't I received another report?"

He had heard there were only three young students.

Every student at Saint Yansk University was either a noble or from an influential commoner family, so he had ordered them captured alive.

No matter how arrogant elves were, they could not kill students from another country on foreign soil.

Even so, there were only three students. No matter how educated they were, there were limits, and no matter how bold they were for their age, they were still only students.

Whether the crew had captured them or the intruders had somehow escaped below deck, there should have been some kind of follow-up report by now, ten minutes after the attack.

"Is no one there? Guard! Go check the situation on deck!"

He shouted irritably. He could not head to the deck himself.

Crown Prince Alexander's envoy would be arriving there. It would damage his dignity for the captain himself to go out and greet them, and if he appeared weak before the secret agreement between nations, it would all be over.

"Is nobody there? What the hell is everyone doing! Turn off that damned siren too! How is anyone supposed to live with that noise!"

At last, Onest rose from his seat.

With an impatient stride, he crossed the captain's quarters and threw open the door.

-Wheeeee!

-Wheeeee!

The corridor filled with blaring sirens had no lights at all.

Is it broken? The thought crossed his mind, but he quickly shook his head.

It could not be broken. This was an attack.

"Tch!"

He grimaced and quickly hid behind the door. Drawing the ceremonial sword displayed on the wall, he took a deep breath.

"Did Elizaveta send you!"

"..."

"Damn it, I know you're there, so answer me! A student attack? Don't make me laugh. You used students to create a diversion!?"

He did not know what situation the standoff on deck had become, but at least it could not be over yet.

No matter how formidable the force they had brought, three people could not wipe out the entire crew in ten minutes.

So he would hold out for now. If Crown Prince Alexander grasped the situation, he might consider sending in troops.

Neither Onest nor Alexander wanted Elizaveta to discover them at this point.

Then a voice rang out.

"The Lord Chamberlain must have told you."

"What...?"

Onest turned toward the low voice coming from the end of the corridor.

It was probably coming from the end of the compartment corridor in front of the captain's quarters. At that distance, even a company-scale destruction spell would not reach the captain's quarters.

Nodding, he laced his fingers together. Blue mana ignited and coiled around his fingertips.

Then.

-Bwoooooong!!

With a sound that tore through the air.

-Kraaaash!!

Something flashed through the open door and smashed into the round table in the captain's quarters.

A spell? Destruction magic? Onest hurriedly turned his head, ready to cast a defensive spell if it was explosive magic.

"...An axe?"

An axe tied to a rope was embedded in the round table, having nearly split it apart.

Onest muttered blankly.

"So he really was... a woodcutter?"

It had been a plain statement, without even the slightest trace of malicious metaphor.

Onest laughed hollowly.

The rope tied to the axe snapped taut with a twang.

-Crack!

The axe tore free along the rope and spun on its return, striking Onest's leg with the force of its recoil.

"Urgh!"

Fortunately, it had hit him with the flat rather than the blade. His ankle bent, and Onest rolled across the floor to escape the axe's range.

The axe vanished into the darkness at the end of the corridor as if it had been swallowed up. As Onest shakily rose, using his sword as a cane, footsteps echoed from the darkness.

Blue eyes glimmered between the shadows.

Then came a thick beard.

Arms with veins bulging like snakes, an axe blade gripped tightly in one hand.

And a pistol pointed at him.

"Let's negotiate."

"That isn't the order I received."

-Bang!

Sparks burst from the pistol's muzzle in the unlit corridor.

* * *

Footnotes:

Join our discord at https://dsc.gg/wetried