WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 42: 9. Academy Field Trips Always Get Attacked (6)
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* * *
Oscar stood with his back against the wall, his sword planted in the ground.
“This is unbelievable.”
He roughly wiped away the blood running down his forehead and looked around. He could see nothing.
Forests were naturally dark. The forests of Pritchenkaya were especially grim, dark enough that sunlight barely reached the ground even at noon.
So it was understandable that, buried beneath dirt and rubble under that forest, finding a light source would be difficult. That much he could understand. But...
“Why is there a cave beneath a forest? What kind of insane country is this?”
Oscar gave a hollow laugh and picked up his sword. One of his legs had broken from the impact. He could probably manage to walk while leaning on the wall, but even that would not be easy.
‘Should I wait for help?’
He was a student. Naturally, rescue personnel would follow after an accident this serious during a class.
Besides, he had three beads in his pocket. He had heard that each was a magical artifact with a tracking function.
So unless something went wrong, standing still here would be the safest option, but...
‘Did those two make it out?’
That was the problem. Having three beads meant he had taken the beads of at least two people.
He had defeated two classmates and taken their beads. It could not be helped, since this was a test, but now that things had turned out this way, it made him uneasy. He had effectively taken their tracking devices.
If they were buried beneath this rubble, they would not be rescued.
Oscar let out a breath. The pain rising from his broken leg was terrible. Still...
“I have to save them.”
He wiped away the blood and opened his eyes. His green eyes gleamed in the darkness.
He had to save them.
Because they were his classmates? Because he was a good person? Because he was the son of Gilles Ver, a Hero Party knight?
No.
Because he was a knight.
A knight of Tilles did not abandon the weak in the face of hardship.
He remembered what his father, the Defender Duke, had taught him since childhood.
* * *
“Aaaah! Help me! Is anyone there?!”
“Help us! We’re trapped under here!”
How noisy. Ivan clicked his tongue as he walked through the tunnel.
Inside a tunnel, where visibility was severely limited, losing one sense naturally sharpened the others.
That was why one should not shout in a tunnel. All the more so if it was a battlefield.
Not only would it make an excellent directional marker for enemies beyond the tunnel, but screams scattering in every direction would echo off the tunnel walls and ruin one’s sense of direction.
Getting lost would increase the fear. Humans were not made to live in darkness.
Untrained people panicked in situations like that. They screamed again, lost their sense of direction again, and the vicious cycle continued.
-Click.
Ivan drew his pistol as he listened to the screams. He closed his eyes and moved forward.
One step. Then another.
Never rushing, but never moving leisurely either.
His strides were precise, as though measured with a ruler. Straight ahead.
He counted every step he had taken. His stride was exactly eighty-six centimeters. By counting his steps, he could draw his route from the entry point onto a map in his mind.
An Annihilation Unit officer had to master field triangulation along with map reading.
Oscar’s last confirmed position, Isabelle’s position, and the point where Ivan had jumped down.
By plotting those three points without error, he could always walk with certainty even through tunnels stretching out like a maze.
“Help me!”
The screams were close. He raised his pistol and moved forward, aiming around waist height.
That was roughly head level, considering the average height of dwarves. Of course, aiming for a dwarf’s head with a pistol would not kill it.
They were damn tough.
“Who’s there?!”
“Over here! We’re over here!”
“What’s your name?!”
“Petric! Is that important right now?!”
Of course it was important.
Ivan snorted at the voice from the end of the tunnel.
The awkward speech pattern belonged to a dwarf. They were roaming the tunnels looking for their target.
He could sense the dwarves moving away again after hearing the stranded student’s voice. Right. Not every student was a target.
“You’re lucky.”
Petric had survived because he gave his name first. The dwarves in the tunnels were probably looking for Oscar or Isabelle.
Enrika was in this area. They could not afford to drag things out for long. Vampires had excellent night vision, so fighting Enrika in a tunnel would be the worst kind of suicide.
Those two students would not be killed by the dwarves, at least.
“Where are you going?! Where are you?! Help me!”
“Shh. Quiet.”
Ivan had already reached the screaming student and clamped a hand over their mouth. A choked gasp, damp sweat, tears, and other bodily fluids pressed against his palm.
Ivan gently patted the student’s shoulder and whispered.
“The ones who just asked your name are the ones who dug these tunnels.”
“...Mmph?!”
“Yes. You nearly died. So stay quiet.”
“Pah...! W-Who are you, mister?”
“Rescue team. Now, quiet. Do you have a bead?”
“Oscar took it!”
Of course it would not be that easy.
Ivan clicked his tongue and asked,
“Is Oscar nearby?”
“Yes. We lost to Oscar, and then the ground collapsed almost right away...”
“Can you walk?”
“Y-Yes!”
“Take this.”
Ivan took a bead from his belt and handed it to the student.
“Walk ten meters in that direction, at least that far. You should see the sky. Climb up there and wait for rescue. Enrika will find you soon.”
“Th-Thank you!”
“Quiet. The enemy is still nearby.”
Ivan patted the student’s shoulder a few times and moved on.
* * *
“What’s your name?!”
“Petric! Is that important right now?!”
Good. A rescuer.
That was a relief. He could get out with them.
Fortunately, both of them seemed to be alive. That was one worry off his mind.
Oscar sighed and staggered forward. He was about to call out for help, then suddenly shut his mouth.
Something was strange...
‘He asked their names... then everything went quiet.’
There was no reason to whisper. If there were other students nearby, the rescue team should be shouting louder to let them know help had arrived.
Which meant the sudden silence was strange. Oscar’s instincts sounded an alarm.
“Is there anyone else?! Any other survivors?!”
“...”
Oscar swallowed and listened.
The voices of those two students had abruptly cut off after that man shouted.
One possibility came to mind.
‘What if it was not normal for there to be a cave like this beneath the Pritchenkaya forest?’
Now that he thought about it, the walls were far too smooth for a cave. If this was not natural, if someone had dug out these tunnels and prepared a trap?
Then that man loudly shouting as if he were rescuing students was...
‘An enemy.’
Oscar gritted his teeth. Fighting an unknown enemy in deep darkness where he could not see an inch ahead was foolish.
Even more so with one broken leg.
‘It would be better to just wait.’
He had a tracking magical artifact in his pocket, after all. With Enrika here, a rescue team would arrive soon. He only needed to wait until then.
Oscar clenched his sword.
“Me! Me! Help me!”
“What’s the name of the student over there?!”
A shout rang out again from deep within the cave.
Another survivor was screaming.
This was driving him mad.
Oscar forced himself to his feet. He let out a long sigh, squeezed his eyes shut, and swallowed several moments of hesitation.
Then he opened his eyes and shouted.
“Oscar, son of Gilles Ver, Defender Duke of Tilles, is here!!”
Damn it. Was it not obvious? Anyone thorough enough to set a trap like this would naturally be after a high-value target.
And the highest-value target in this Pritchenkaya forest was him.
Isabelle was here too, of course, but it was hard to say she was worth more than he was. Her father was missing, while his own father was still a duke of Tilles.
Naturally, if they were kidnappers, taking a duke’s son would be better. Even if they were not kidnappers, the same was true. His father had made far more enemies than Maximilian, the Hero, ever had.
That meant there was a very high chance he was their target. The fact that they had been going around asking students’ names had been suspicious from the start.
“Found you.”
A low voice echoed through the darkness. Oscar gritted his teeth and raised his sword.
Was this really the right thing to do?
Well, who would know if he risked his life doing something like this? Who would acknowledge it?
“I will.”
Goodwill should be a light for oneself alone.
The highest virtue of goodwill was self-sacrifice, regardless of recognition from others.
A knight of Tilles never abandoned the weak in the face of hardship.
Oscar ground his teeth and held his sword upright.
* * *
‘Gilles Ver raised his son well.’
Ivan smirked as he watched.
He slowly moved forward and raised his pistol.
One step at a time. Never rushing, but never leisurely either. He matched each precise stride and counted every step.
He held the pistol, his sights aimed around waist height.
Listening for the heavy footsteps, calculating their stride to infer the enemy’s height, then adjusting his sights.
Waiting for the footsteps within hearing range to enter effective firing range.
He determined Oscar’s position and avoided his line of fire. Directly ahead.
Aim, hold his breath, and...
Fire.
-Bang!!
* * *
Footnotes:
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