The magician is difficult to kill. Literally, 'difficult.'
Regardless of their school, all types of magicians create spare lives for themselves through various bizarre methods. Whether through protective spells or life preservation spells.
If asked which school is the most difficult to kill, Ivan would think of necromancers without hesitation.
Half the reason is the spell called lichification, which splits the soul and preserves it in a reliquary.
The other half is because even when the physical body is destroyed, it's wrapped in terrible curses.
The worst among them was, of course, Aviditas. Even excluding his spells, his dragon form alone could face armies, spew curses when destroyed, and resurrect within 10 minutes of being killed.
Flying through the sky, he rained down curses like bombs and commanded tens of thousands of the dead. After breaking through all that to reach the main body, one had to face an immortal dragon in close combat.
Magic that could burst your heart just by facing it, curses that rotted everything they touched, divine power that destroyed minds just by hearing its whispers.
The incarnation of desire. A wicked dragon who mastered a thousand spells in life, collected a thousand treasures, and destroyed a thousand cities. Master of all necromancy and the dead.
The Dragon Lord, Aviditas.
Ivan always counts that time as one of the most terrible battles he's experienced. It was the day of his most vicious adversary, who took the most from him.
Perhaps because of that, Ivan occasionally dreams of that day. The content of the dreams always differs, but the result is the same. Everyone except him dies. Looking at him, whispering reproachfully.
"You, outsider from the outer world. How did you alone survive?"
Ivan could never answer. He only reviews that day's battle in regret.
If only he had moved a little faster. If only he had rushed a little harder.
If he hadn't made that choice then, if he hadn't made that judgment, if he hadn't attacked in that way.
Like a defeated chess player reviewing the game. Going over each move with lament. Wondering if one more person could have returned alive.
But like all regrets and lamentations in the world, Ivan's review also ends with the same conclusion when making moves alone. Nothing changes despite the regret. He was still alone.
"You, outsider from the outer world."
Such voices echo outside the window after he finishes his review.
Perhaps the ghosts of those who left, perhaps the sighs whispered by his reflection in the window.
Continuing from the end of the war until now.
But now the dragon is dead, and maggots feeding on its corpse are pretending to be dragons.
Absurdly, claiming they will take revenge on him.
The right to revenge was never theirs. It should have been his alone. They have no right to speak of revenge.
"Next."
"Uh, umm... this is right, isn't it?"
"Yes."
-Psshk.
Ivan stuck a needle into his forearm and shattered the cylinder. With a hissing sound, the drug was sucked into his bloodstream.
A stinging sensation started from his forearm and gnawed through his entire body like it was eating away at him. Since extreme drugs are fundamentally extreme poisons, even his enhanced body had a rejection reaction.
[Come ouuut!! Show yourself, Ivaaaan!!]
A booming voice swept through the entire factory district. Rats and bats were moving through the buildings searching for him.
There's not much time. Ivan slowly adjusted his magical power while injecting the drugs Lucia handed him one by one into his forearm.
Immune enhancer, anti-magic enhancer, neurotoxin neutralizer.
These drugs are close to poisons that severely damage liver function, magical organs, and the central nervous system. But it's fine. Thankfully, a superhuman body has the strength to endure all these drugs.
While pouring in undiluted versions of drugs that even alchemists would dilute as much as possible when performing the most terrible surgeries, Ivan could feel his internal organs being destroyed in real time.
The smell of iron vibrates in his nose. Blood unconsciously welled up, wetting his throat as it went down.
This much is necessary. If the opponent possesses even a fraction of Aviditas's true power. He must do alone what his team accomplished without rear support.
They too must have honed their skills for years solely for revenge, plundering the legacy of the dead Aviditas to fatten their own flesh.
Ivan never becomes arrogant. Only he in this world is aware of the limits of his abilities. Combat capability is a kind of tool, and a good agent should know exactly the catalog specs of the tools they use.
So Ivan did what was necessary. He silently poured toxins into his body. Aviditas could never be faced alone, and his disciples would have come here with preparations no less thorough than Ivan's.
And Ivan too. Had absolutely no intention of running away from this place today.
Only death would remain as today's conclusion. Whether his or theirs.
-Whew...
The final adjustment was complete. Ivan closed his eyes and composed his heated body temperature. His heart was pounding.
"Lucia."
"Yes, sir..."
"Send a message to Enrique. Request rescue at gathering point 3 in three hours."
"What...? What?"
"You now run with all your might to gathering point 3. Your role is finished."
"B-but sir!"
"This is a fight where there's nothing to gain from watching."
Ivan coldly replied to the surprised Lucia.
From the beginning, Lucia's purpose in this operation had two aspects. Real-time information exchange with Enrique, and the process of teaching Lucia practical experience.
At this point, having reached the final stage of the operation, communication with Enrique is meaningless. Die or kill. Whatever the result, the "other operation" will proceed as planned.
And Lucia doesn't need to be taught this battle. This kid is destined to be part of the Hero Party, so there's no need to learn how to fight alone while taking damage.
This kid has comrades who will support her rear. Unlike him.
So this battle shouldn't become a manual. That era should have ended with his generation. Even the Hero didn't face the Demon King alone.
This is the fight of those who couldn't become Heroes, who couldn't become part of the Hero's team. The struggle of ordinary people. The fight of humans, not transcendent heroes.
Ivan stood up, opening his eyes. Lucia, who had been meeting his gaze for a long time, mumbled and swallowed her words.
"Go."
"Men... are...!!"
Lucia burst into tears. She continued speaking through her sobs.
"Next time, next time at school. You'll teach me the rest. Because I, I still want to learn. Even if I don't need to know how to fight alone, I really want to learn how to fight 'together.' Understand?"
When Ivan didn't answer, Lucia stepped on the windowsill and looked down at him.
"Today is the last time I'll be a burden. From now on, you won't have to fight 'alone' in the same situation."
"To become an excellent agent, your level is still lacking."
"Haha... your standards are too strict."
Lucia gently grumbled and disappeared into the darkness outside the window. A movement unique to vampires. Ivan traced the long trajectory she left with his eyes.
The moisture she left behind was more suited to a human than a vampire.
Ivan gathered his weapons one last time, then headed to the window on the opposite side. To the sniping point heading toward the center of the factory district. Holding his axe, counting his bullets, tightening his armor plates.
Recalling the effective duration of the drugs flowing through his body.
With a light tap, Ivan's body disappeared from the windowsill.
-Tap.
A person landed in the middle of the open space.
The chattering insects, the necromancers spewing anger, the dwarves muttering in tension. The commotion from everyone present fell silent.
In the greasy silence, the man who revealed himself slowly raised his head.
[Ivan Petrovich—!! I am grateful that you are still not dead!!]
Breaking the silence, joy echoed. Beyond the frightened dwarves, a giant corpse dragon cast its shadow.
Ivan stared quietly at the shadow. It was a remarkably similar replica of Aviditas as he was on the day he died.
Perhaps because they couldn't salvage the dragon's remains, the skeleton of that monster was made up of countless human bones. A monstrosity pieced together like a mosaic.
However, its intimidating presence was at a similar level. Numerous hatreds, grudges, obsessions, and curses were intertwined, pulsing like blood vessels.
[Look, see what you failed to achieve. You have not survived. You have merely postponed death. You have returned to the deep underground, returned to your death!]