Ivan Petrovich.
3rd assembly point, requesting rescue in 5 hours.
Lucia sent the brief message and opened her eyes. She was hiding in darkness, observing the battle from a distance.
Ivan's words that there was nothing to learn were true. That battle was something she couldn't learn.
It wasn't something within her learning capacity, not that kind of thing. Even her teacher couldn't fight like that.
"BOOM—!!"
The explosion reached where she was. She shuddered slightly and struggled to steady her trembling body.
The combat that Enrique taught was closer to "achieving victory." Any means were acceptable as long as you didn't lose.
But Ivan's combat wasn't like that. His battle doctrine was simple. Give everything you can give, and even if you're defeated in the end, make sure to land that final strike.
She knew people who fought like that. This wasn't the fighting style of those classified as "heroes" or "superhumans."
This was a soldier's way. The kind that would sacrifice anything for the greater victory of the battlefield, even after their turn was over.
So the statement that she couldn't learn it wasn't wrong. Both her teacher and Ivan knew what they expected of her. And that she shouldn't learn to fight like that.
But...
"I can still save him."
She lacked the ability to jump into such a battlefield and fight alongside him. She humbly acknowledged that. But rescue didn't require much ability. Just that critical moment when Ivan's body finally faltered would be enough.
Lucia crouched in the darkness, watching Ivan advance.
Even when he staggered, stumbled, and occasionally lost his balance. Even as he continuously sustained injuries from numerous curses, poisons, evil energy, and the spears and swords of the dead.
Yet despite all that, he took one step forward.
Crushing the dwarf remains that kept rising no matter how many times they were killed, slowly moving forward.
Was this how the allied forces fought against the demon race? Was this how those who had to advance despite death-like pain looked?
She couldn't know. She wasn't someone who had experienced war firsthand. But if there was one thing she could answer with certainty.
That wasn't the advance of an individual.
It was no different from the march of an entire legion.
Those old soldiers who had fallen somewhere on distant battlefields, whose names were now forgotten, who didn't even have a line in history.
They were intertwined with Ivan's battle, with each extension of his arms and each step of his legs, becoming a legion and marching forward.
As long as even one person remained, the Annihilation Squad would not perish. She finally recalled what Enrique had said when she stole the "Nameless Soldier Monument" and kept it underground.
That one person was here now.
The unperished Annihilation Squad was continuing the battle.
"Die! Just die already—!! Why won't you die?!"
The necromancers' screams echoed loudly. Their arms were trembling. It was due to combat performance beyond the limits of their bodies.
Ivan was sorting through numerous noises amid the ringing in his ears, modifying his engagement plan.
Some magic power still needed to be consumed to assist his heartbeat. The damage to his limbs was more serious than expected. Multiple organ failures due to accumulated toxins were threatening his life by the minute.
But fortunately, how amazing magic power is. If there's one resource Ivan prefers in this primitive pre-modern fantasy world, it's this.
This all-purpose resource that can be whatever you need it to be. Though he couldn't use magic, he had already surpassed Enrique in manipulating and modulating magic power.
So, just like assisting heart muscles, it was possible to forcibly move damaged muscle fibers. Fortunate indeed.
"BOOM—!!"
A massive skeleton suddenly rose and struck him with a shield. The pain seemed to claw at his mind due to prolonged neural acceleration, but he managed to react successfully.
Ivan regained his posture and shattered the remains again. Curses spewed from between the breaking bones. He swallowed them numbly. Pain spread again.
But.
Pain is merely an electrical signal from the body stimulated by the survival instinct of the species.
Of course it can be ignored. Sadly, pain receptors were spread too widely, and blocking all pain nerves would dull the body, making it impossible to completely block the source of pain.
But pain is, after all, an illusion caused by the desire for life. Thinking of it that way made it bearable.
"Kill him! Rise!! Ivan Petrovich! Don't come— don't come any closer!!"
"CRACK!"
Five chains shot out and began to wrap around and constrict his body. Ivan's advance stopped for a moment.
The necromancer's laughter echoed loudly.
"Yes, stop. I pronounce death! In the name of Aviditas—"
"Not enough."
"CRACK!"
Ivan has no expertise in magic. The idea of twisting magic power to do something—he can't even understand if that makes any academic sense. He doesn't understand how a mysterious source that ignores the laws of thermodynamics can become a "discipline."
But he knows countless ways to counter magic. Because he's experienced it. Magic is ultimately a technique that uses magic power to cause a kind of physical effect.
To bind a real existence with insubstantial magic power, one must ultimately create chains with substance. And if it can be physically interfered with, it means it can also be destroyed.
So the moment he's bound, he analyzes the structure. It's a method he's experienced before. So he shatters it and moves forward again.
"Die!! Kill him!! Die!!"
Is that all they can say now? Whether from fear or not, the necromancers' words were becoming increasingly dull. Their attacks were becoming simpler.
He could see their faces. Pale, ashen faces. Black eyeballs without pupils. Trembling bodies.
He could see their terror.
"I've already died too many times."
Ivan slowly raised his axe. Since the opponent had already lost their fighting spirit, what was needed at this moment was not speed but accuracy.
In the mirror-like eyes of the frightened necromancers, he was reflected.
They saw a man limping, covered in blood, sewage, curses, and corrupted magic power.
"I've died too many times to get here."
"Don't die here."
All comrades said that to those standing beside them as they died.
When that message reached Ivan like a round song, Ivan couldn't find another comrade to pass on that dying wish.
"I'll go ahead and get a smack from Sasha. But I won't be lonely. We've maintained good connections in heaven or hell."
"Live long, Major. Come as late as possible."
"If you come too soon, I'll rebel."
"Cherenovika."
"What—?"
"Someone died here."
The necromancers hesitated. Ivan took exactly one step forward, matching that distance.
The retreating necromancers and Ivan moved with the same stride, as if reflected in a mirror.
When one necromancer finally stumbled and fell, the tendons in Ivan's axe-gripping hand writhed like snakes.
"Now, in this place today, the Annihilation Squad will die no more."
"CRACK."
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, particles to particles.
The dead who commanded death crumbled. The corpses that stood and moved returned to remains, and only the sound of broken weapons collapsing echoed.
A silence where not even breathing could be heard. In the midst of it, Ivan stood straight, his head bowed.
"Tap."
Lucia landed beside him. At the same time, Ivan raised his head. With a natural gesture, he reached out and seized her neck like lightning.
Between his blood-soaked hair, deep blue eyes glowed dully. Tendons writhed, and he squeezed with enough force to crush steel.
Lucia grabbed Ivan's forearm tightly with a choking sound.
"Sen...ior...!"
"Today... in this place."
"Senior! Just a moment...!"
Ivan's eyes opened hazily. Wrong. Could this man even hear sounds? Right now, this man was moving purely on instinct.
A tear rolled down from Lucia's eye. From pain, and with pity for this man.
How many people had he buried? How many had he embraced? How many did he live remembering?
Lucia fumbled, recalling what her teacher had said.
"Don't... mourn those who went ahead...!"
"For I too stand in the same ranks as them."
The refrain came back reflexively from Ivan's mouth. Lucia reached out to gently wipe the dried blood from his cheek, then smiled softly.
"'We' too stand in the same ranks as them. Ivan Petrovich. I'm still here. Not everyone in the world is your enemy. There are still more people left to share memories with."
"...Lucia."
"Yes, are you coming to your senses?"
The strength left Ivan's grip. Lucia sat down on the ground, coughing.
Ivan looked at her for a moment, stared at his trembling hands for a while, then raised his head again.
"Your training is still insufficient to be included in 'we.'"
"The standards are really too strict..."
"And why are you here? The last order was clearly..."
"Field agents can choose the priority of orders according to their discretion! Right? Retreat after the mission is complete! This mission ends when I return alive with you, Senior!"
"...I see."
Ivan nodded briefly.
In actual combat situations, all agents have the right to refuse orders from superiors. The Annihilation Squad never teaches absolute obedience. Their obedience was only for the royal family.
A superior's orders can be ignored according to priority. Ivan decided to accept this valid and reasonable objection.
"You're at the level of a rookie agent now."
"Did this person just... praise me...?!"
"Support me. There's something to check."
"...Huh?"
Ivan, collapsing onto Lucia's shoulder, whispered softly.
"Eek!! W-wait, Senior!"
"Contact Enrique. Was the target rescued?"
"Ah, w-w-wait! Move away a bit! Just because you have a nice voice!!"
Lucia pushed Ivan's forehead away while mumbling for a moment. Unfortunately, Ivan lacked the energy to function right now. Perhaps it could be said that the tension had drained from him.
After checking his condition, Lucia grumbled and supported his body with all her strength. His solid muscles were heated from the aftermath of battle.
"...Teacher's reply. Failure. Target absent from all objective points."
"As I thought. Open the second pocket on the left side of my gear."
"What? Oh, yes. This is..."
With a rattling sound, a transparent bottle containing a red liquid was retrieved.
Lucia stared blankly at the bottle, then glanced at Ivan. Ivan was staring at the bottle with a solemn face.
"What is this?"
"...Healing Potion."
"If you had something like this, you should have used it earlier! How do you use it? I've never seen this specification before."
"Remove the cap and pour it on the wound."
"Should I do it now? Move away for a bit. I'll do it right away."
"Wait."
Ivan raised his arm to stop Lucia.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes resolutely.
"I'm prepared. Do it."
"Why are you talking like someone about to commit seppuku? That's really funny."
Lucia chuckled as she gently wiped Ivan's split wounds, then poured the Healing Potion on them.
With a hissing sound, pink foam bubbled from the wounds. Soon the wounds healed cleanly.
"Wow, this is really effective... What is it? Is this really military-grade potion?"
"Ugh."
"Senior? Senior?"
"Just a moment. My tongue was slightly cut. I'm fine."
"Would you like to gargle with this?"
"I said I'm fine."
Ivan briefly rejected her violent fantasy and stood up. Unfortunately, there was no Geneva Convention in this world, so Lucia's madness for torture wasn't strictly illegal.
What a primitive world. Ivan sighed as he reconnected the sensations he had temporarily disconnected.
"Let's go finish this."
"Where to?"
"To rescue the scribe's son."
"Huh? Do you know where he is?"
"It's obvious now. If we exclude the places Enrique searched, there's only one place where Aviditas's subordinates could hide the person."
Their stronghold. The place where the "Fortress of Desire" fell. Fortunately, it's not far.
Ivan shook his head and said to Lucia.
"How is 'Hammer and Anvil' progressing?"
"Northern 2nd Corps advancing. Estimated arrival time: 2 hours!"
"Support me. I'll rely on you for a moment. We need to recover the prisoner before the Northern Corps enters the underground for smoother negotiations."