WeTried Translations
Translator/Editor: Hydrogen B
Discord: https://dsc.gg/wetried
Chapter 43: 9. Academy Field Trips Always Get Attacked (7)
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* * *
He spread mana through every corner of his nervous system.
He held his breath, regulating the sensation of mana flowing through his veins.
-Creak.
Senses he normally could not perceive awakened as time fractured around him. His index finger tightened on the trigger, and he could even hear the faint friction of the spring twisting inside the gun.
This was the Battlefield of Superhumans.
-Bang!
He fired and opened his eyes at the same time.
Flame burst from the muzzle, illuminating the dark tunnel for an instant.
That was why he had heightened his senses, to keep the sudden flash from blinding his fully dark-adapted eyes.
The stimulation made his eyes ache sharply, but that was fine. He was used to this much.
The silhouettes of three people lingered on Ivan’s retinas like afterimages.
“A gun! There’s someone else!”
“Damn it, where were they hiding?!”
The figure leaning against the wall was Oscar. The two small figures slowly approaching from farther down the tunnel were dwarves.
At the moment of the shot, Ivan had seen sparks fly near one dwarf’s head.
They were wearing standard dwarf infantry gear.
Ivan shifted his aim and rushed forward.
“He’s coming! Get ready!”
The dwarf at the front shrieked. Judging from the afterimage still lingering in Ivan’s vision, the lead dwarf was armed with a two-handed axe.
Standard dwarf infantry gear was absurdly thick plate armor that covered the entire body like a golem. Bizarre equipment so sturdy that most attacks would not even leave a crack.
Aside from a few weak points at the eyeholes and joints, it was almost impervious to outside attacks.
‘That’s why I use a sword.’
That was why he could not use an axe. No matter how hard he hacked at them, it would not even leave a dent. During the war, these bastards had survived even when buried beneath mountains.
Their armor had held against the crushing weight of enormous boulders.
A martial art had been developed to deal with creatures like them.
-Scrape!
“Ha! Human! You won’t get through!”
The blade scraped across the plate armor’s surface, sending up sparks. As the sword bounced away, a long whistle cut through the air.
-Whoosh!
Ivan sensed its direction and speed at once, then ducked. A massive axe blade sliced through the air directly overhead.
He let it pass, raised his left hand, and fired again.
-Bang!
This time, he fired at the other dwarf behind the first. Sparks burst from the muzzle, and the dwarf came into view once more.
Their stance, balance, the armor’s weak points, their crooked smile, even the long ash-gray beard hanging beneath their chin.
Ivan held his sword straight and struck down quickly.
-Clang!
“You bastard!”
The dwarf roared. The blow had struck a joint precisely, with a level of accuracy that should have been impossible in the darkness.
Still, this was not enough. Thinking so, the dwarf swung the axe again.
-Whoosh!
Ivan dodged again, then scraped at the same spot. It was a mechanical repetition of the same process.
The armor’s vulnerable joints were reinforced with chain mail and gambeson. That gave them enough protection against blades on its own, but not enough to withstand the sword strikes of a superhuman.
So, scrape again!
“That technique... Were you on the battlefield ten years ago?”
“Is that all you think it was?”
The reply slipped out before he could stop it. Ivan snorted. Kim Seonwoo inside him was screaming that it had been twenty years.
Feelings aside, his hands kept doing what they needed to do.
-Bang!
He fired again, securing a moment of sight. Then he stepped back to avoid the dwarf approaching from behind, swung his sword, and scraped through the chain mail.
The one who had first devised this technique was Colonel Petrovich himself. At the time, he had been a captain.
The technique was called Dwarf Flayer.
“Grrraaaagh!!”
-Scrape, clang!
At last, the dwarf’s shoulder guard tore away. As the impact sent the blade flying upward, Ivan naturally released the hilt and reached for his waist.
He drew a dagger from its sheath and drove it into the dwarf’s exposed bare shoulder in a single breath.
-Stab!
“Gaaaah!!”
A shoulder wound was fatal to a warrior. It was no different from losing one arm. The dwarf wielding the two-handed axe visibly slowed.
But there were two enemies. The other dwarf warrior finally closed in and swung their weapon.
“Stop!!”
-Whoosh!
Ivan dodged the weapon again and raised the pistol in his left hand. This time, he took careful aim, steadied his breathing, and fired.
-Bang!
“Gaaaah!!”
One shot struck the dagger’s hilt lodged in the dwarf’s shoulder. The dagger flew away into the darkness of the tunnel. The dwarf’s shoulder was violently torn apart, and they collapsed with a scream.
Ivan spun around and repositioned himself. Just as he released the pistol and drew another dagger from his waist...
-Shing.
The sword he had thrown into the air finally began to fall. He caught the hilt cleanly in midair and swung it again.
-Scrape!
He drove Dwarf Flayer into the newly appeared dwarf once more.
In that moment, as he mapped out his breathing and time itself...
He thrust in the blade, twisted it, and peeled away the armor layer by layer.
With the precision of a surgeon performing an operation, exact and methodical, stitch by stitch, he fought in pitch-black darkness where he could not see an inch ahead against two dwarves with darkvision. Both hands moved at once as he dismantled their armor, drove daggers into exposed flesh, threw his sword into the air, fired his pistol, caught the falling sword again, and swung it.
* * *
“What... is this...?”
Oscar gaped and swallowed a groan.
Only moments ago, he had vowed to stake his life on one final fight and die without shame as a knight.
Then a monster of a man had appeared before his eyes and was slaughtering unknown enemies.
“The sounds are almost overlapping.”
This was beyond common sense. The sounds of the sword swings were nearly overlapping, which meant the interval between each strike was unbelievably tight.
How could anyone move like that? Oscar let out a hollow laugh.
If that man was an attacker, then there was nothing to do but die.
The battle ended in an instant. The unknown man who had rushed in the moment the first shot rang out returned with the thick scent of blood before Oscar could even take two breaths.
“Can you see anything?”
Humans did not have darkvision. Only races such as dwarves and demonfolk possessed it. So the question was also asking whether Oscar was human.
“You don’t need to see to fight.”
“Ha...”
“Is your leg injured?”
“Yes. Shamefully, it broke when I was caught in the collapsing earth.”
“You have a bead, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then stay right here. Quietly.”
The man turned and walked away. Oscar quickly raised his head.
“Wait! Just a moment! May I at least know your name?”
“Ivan Petrovich.”
“Where are you going? If there’s anything I can do, I’ll help!”
“Students should focus on their studies.”
Oscar heard the man snort in the darkness.
The footsteps that had been leaving returned, one step at a time, and a hand rested atop Oscar’s head.
“I never liked your father, but it seems he succeeded in raising his son. Oscar, son of Gilles Ver. Your actions were admirable.”
“...You know my father?”
“If that bastard hasn’t forgotten me yet, we’re friends.”
The man turned and left again. This time, he did not look back.
Toward somewhere beyond the tunnel, step by step. His steady footsteps gradually faded away.
* * *
Isabelle sat still in the darkness.
Fortunately, she had fallen without suffering any serious injuries, but she was not foolish enough to move carelessly somewhere she could not see.
“The test will be canceled, right? I’m not going to fail because of this, am I?”
That was all she worried about. It felt as though four hours had already passed, though she could not even guess how much time had truly gone by.
-Step, step.
Isabelle’s head snapped up. She heard footsteps.
Had the rescue team finally arrived? Isabelle jumped to her feet and shouted.
“Over here! There’s someone here!”
“What’s your name?”
“Isabelle! Wait, are you only rescuing people based on their names?!”
“Found her! Target secured! Call the captain!”
“Huh?”
Target? Captain?
Isabelle’s thoughts spun, and realization struck her.
The suddenly collapsing ground, the flood of dirt and rubble, and a cave where she could not see an inch ahead.
Then there was “target” and “captain.” Could this be...?
“Seriously! I’m so sick of this!”
Again. Another terrorist attack had happened in this forest, and this one was targeting her.
How many people had been caught up in it? How many had died in the process?
Isabelle ground her teeth.
If they had found their target, and they had only appeared long after she fell into the trap, then this clearly was not an incident involving only one or two people.
Soon, heavy footsteps echoed throughout the cave.
-Step, step, step.
A group was approaching her silently, without even murmuring among themselves.
Trained soldiers. They must also have darkvision or a comparable spell cast on them. They would need at least that much to move through a dark cave in a group.
Isabelle held her sword upright. Her eyes burned with anger.
She had had enough of people sacrificing themselves in her place.
She was sick of living burdened by guilt toward those who had sacrificed themselves.
So, to release that aimless anger, she drew in a deep breath.
“I am Isabelle, daughter of Maximilian and Marie, a knight of Tilles. State your names!”
“You certainly have spirit.”
A heavy voice came from far away.
“Third Battalion directly under the Fifth Dragon General, Webmaker Engineer Corps. I am Senior Captain Astuk. In terms you would understand, I would be a Commander of a Thousand.”
The moment Isabelle heard that, she thought of Aiphelos, the demonfolk centurion Ivan had taken in.
That fight had been a battle to the death. Aiphelos had been a centurion, so if demonfolk ranks were determined by strength...
‘Astuk is stronger than that one was.’
Isabelle pressed her lips together. A Commander of a Thousand would not be exactly ten times stronger than a centurion, but the difference in martial strength would surely be that great.
And Astuk was not alone. A whole group was approaching as well.
Her vision was also severely restricted. No, not merely restricted. She could not see anything at all.
‘Am I really going to die like this...?’
She was not afraid. The moment she took up a sword, she had known death could come at any time.
She thought of her father. Maximilian would not have shown fear even in a situation like this.
So she could not show fear before death, at least not before the demonfolk.
She was a knight of Tilles. She was also the Hero’s daughter. Among the countless benefits she had enjoyed, there had never been a right to feel fear.
There was only duty. The duty to remain composed even before death.
“Come, then. I, Isabelle of Tilles, will die standing today!”
“...Comrade, how old did you say that one is?”
“Yes, Comrade Captain! That brat turned twenty this year!”
“We will revise the plan. Kill her without fail. We cannot leave trouble behind.”
Any demonfolk officer of a Commander of a Thousand’s rank remembered the Hero Party. Even if they had never encountered them personally, the Hero was the embodiment of death to the demonfolk.
If you met them, you died. If you got close, you died. If you heard rumors of them and did not flee, you died.
They were a natural disaster. Worse, a disaster that could not be predicted. The Hero Party’s movements had been among the Allied Kingdoms’ highest-level secrets, so the Hero Party had always “ambushed” enemy lines.
No matter how many tracking parties were sent after them, none ever returned. They had been utterly thorough in concealing their location.
The Hero Party, which had ruled as the demonfolk’s terror, had finally slain the Demon King. Then the war had ended. Unfortunately for the demonfolk, they had never had the chance to overcome their trauma of the Hero.
So that young brat was displaying courage no one of that age should possess.
She had to die. They would take her head back with them.
Their comrades in the homeland needed to know that even the symbol of their fear could not escape death...
“Go ahead and kill me. A knight of Tilles does not fall alone!”
Isabelle wanted to run. She wanted to collapse where she stood. She was only a girl who had just turned twenty.
But she could not.
Not when she remembered the countless people who had died in that train terrorist attack, and her classmates who had been caught up in this attack now.
She had no right to despair before the death approaching her.
‘She did have one regret, though.’
She had never gotten to go on a date with that older man. Now that she thought about it, the feeling she had whenever she thought of him was probably more than simple fondness.
That was why she regretted it. She could have expressed herself a little more.
* * *
-Tsk, tsk, tsk.
“...?”
A steady sound came from beyond the cave.
Tsk, tsk. A short noise made by rubbing a tongue against the front teeth.
What was that sound? Astuk’s eyes narrowed. It echoed through the tense silence before battle. It felt strangely familiar.
Astuk had heard it somewhere before...
‘Regular tongue-clicking... Echolocation?!’
The instant the memory surfaced, several assumptions followed in quick succession.
‘There is only one human group trained well enough to use echolocation in battle.’
‘That group was secretly cultivated by the Krasilov monarchy during the last war.’
‘And this is Krasilov...’
Astuk recoiled in shock and gripped the weapon tightly.
If the Hero Party was the embodiment of the fear of death,
then that group was the embodiment of the terror of night, the ones who had made even demonfolk with darkvision fear the darkness.
They were the assassins Shadowblade Enrika had trained with everything she had.
For them, questions of when, where, and how were meaningless.
They literally completed their objectives anytime, anywhere, by any means, then vanished like shadows in the dead of night.
“The Annihilation Unit!! Those cursed bastards still exist?! Comrades, raise your weapons! Stay alert!”
-Tsk, tsk, tsk...
The steady sound echoed through the cave, then abruptly stopped.
Silence settled heavily over the surroundings. The dwarves, who looked ready to charge at any moment, formed a shield formation and crouched down tightly where they stood.
Isabelle swallowed and looked around. She could not see anything, but she could tell the enemies were acting strangely.
‘The Annihilation Unit...? What is that...?’
She had never heard the name before. Yet it seemed famous to them. Only moments ago they had been as calm as if they were taking a neighborhood stroll, but their demeanor had frozen in an instant.
Then...
-Click.
With the heavy sound of metal parts grinding together.
-Bang!
There was light.
* * *
Footnotes:
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