-Bang—!
-Bang—!!
Every time the intermittent gunfire sounds, I can feel the enemies scattering in confusion.
This isn't simply because their training is inadequate. Rather, the more elite they are, the more inevitable this reaction becomes.
When ambushed, any competent officer would gauge the enemy's numbers by the frequency of their attacks.
"Judging by the intervals between shots, the enemy is just one person, or at most a small number."
That much is expected. But the problem is that the gunfire in this forest isn't coming from just one direction.
One shot from the east, bang. When they redirect their forces there, all that remains are a few corpses.
As they panic and disperse their troops, another shot from the west, bang.
By this point, the commanding officer is likely thinking: 'The enemy has dispersed a small number of troops to corner us.'
An accurate assessment.
If only the opponent weren't a field commander of the Annihilation Squad.
-Click.
Feeling the tension, killing intent, and anger permeating the forest air, I slowly raised my pistol. Ahead, three soldiers were looking around while holding torches.
Actions born of fear, or perhaps rage. From a distance, there's no discernible difference between the two.
Ivan exhaled slowly,
Half-breath. Maintaining abdominal pressure, pressing down firmly,
Aiming the sight at the target, calculating the distance and raising it five notches.
Smooth as flowing water, with movements closer to instinct than conscious thought—the result of 'learning.'
All this in 0.3 seconds.
His wide-open blue eyes quickly scan the surroundings. The spacing between the three soldiers, their height differences, their distance from him.
With calculations complete, he fills his sight with the farthest one.
Fire.
-Bang—!
The moment he fires, he lowers the gun and grips his axe. No need to confirm the kill. They'll do that for him.
"Damn it! Inoff is down!"
"Where are you! Come out! You bastard!!"
Quickly jumping from tree to tree, he moves to the next position. The torches they're frantically waving serve as excellent target markers.
Lighting fires in a forest creates too much visibility. Of course, without torches they wouldn't see anything in this dark forest, but that's their mistake.
They shouldn't have chosen a night like this.
Fundamentally, night ambushes are truly, truly difficult. They require a commander's exceptional ability and perfectly trained troops as prerequisites.
Even such forces would hesitate before an ambush in a forest at night, especially in a foreign forest. They probably lost about a third of their forces immediately after deployment.
'That means the enemy's total force is around 50 men.'
Judging by their dispersion and the size of their scattered squads, that seems about right.
Standing above a torch-bearing soldier, Ivan grips his axe tightly and drives it downward.
-Crash!!
"Aaaaargh!!"
A cowardly one. The one actually hit by the axe couldn't even scream once.
But he seems properly trained. The moment Ivan appeared, he raised his gun.
Ivan ducked. The soldier's trembling finger pushed against the trigger.
No aiming process. At this distance it would be meaningless, and the man wasn't in the right state of mind anyway.
He's in panic, shooting first and thinking later.
But Ivan can't allow that.
"D-die!!"
Ignoring those words, Ivan tenses his thighs. The veins on the man's hand bulge.
In that instant, Ivan, already a step closer, was swinging his axe.
In one blow, the right shoulder and nape shatter simultaneously. Literally, "shatter."
A strike filled with fierce power, then quickly pivoting for another blow. And another.
Three axe strikes delivered in half a breath. No one at this scene would speak again.
"Phew."
Ivan cracked his shoulders and embedded his axe.
He took the gun the nameless soldier had been holding, aimed it at the sky, attached a thin thread to the trigger, and hung it on a nearby tree.
Placing the gun firmly in the dead body's arms completes the task.
The gunshot will have drawn attention, and someone will come to investigate.
The moment they disturb the corpse, the loaded gun will fire, and the command post will misjudge Ivan's position in their confusion.
The delay in information reaching headquarters, limited visibility in the dark forest, fear of unfamiliar surroundings, confusion of information, and gradually diminishing allies.
The more capable the enemy, the easier they are to deceive.
Ivan thought as he sprinted across the treetops.
So, this is... strange.
The enemy's condition is too competent to be considered a tutorial.
'Dian August was supposed to be an NPC who would assist Isabelle's tutorial and then disappear.'
Ivan narrowed his eyes.
In this situation, without him, could Isabelle have escaped this forest alive on her own?
Considering the enemy's ample firearms, well-trained troops, and capable command...
This isn't a level of danger that a barely twenty-year-old child could overcome.
'Why...? Is eliminating the enemy not the tutorial's clear condition?'
Sometimes that happens. Games where you learn controls while fleeing from overwhelming enemies.
But how? And where to?
Considering the remaining distance to Pritzenkaya, the probability of an inexperienced youngster who can't even find her direction safely exiting the forest approaches 0%.
Despite his confusion, Ivan didn't stop moving.
There would be time for worry after the situation ended.
"Captain, we've been hit again. This time all three men were sliced up with an axe."
"Good grief. This is..."
The man groaned while stroking his chin.
It felt like facing a tiger.
A hunting method that gradually tightens the noose around the group, starting with the weakest.
The countermeasure was simple. Just concentrate the troops.
But he couldn't do that. His target was the "Hero's daughter."
"Wouldn't it be better to gather the men now...?"
"Fool. That's exactly what those bastards out there want."
The enemy is few in number. That's obvious.
If they were facing a large counterattack, they wouldn't be using such cumbersome methods.
Assume there's a highly elite small strike team scattered throughout the forest.
-Bang—!
Another gunshot rang out. This time from the west.
And soon after.
-Bang—!
This time from beyond the north.
The gunshots were gradually getting closer to his position.
"They already know our location."
"Pardon?"
"They already know this is the command post! You idiot! Don't you understand?"
"Ah, yes. That's true, but... then why aren't they attacking us directly...?"
Wouldn't it be much simpler to strike the command post first, then hunt down the confused troops one by one?
Why are the enemies engaging in such cumbersome actions?
It's because.
-Bang—!
After two gunshots from different directions, a shocking realization flashed in the man's mind.
"Give me your gun."
"What? Ah, yes!"
He snatched the man's gun and fired into the air. Bang—!
After freezing for a moment, the man soon growled.
"It's just one person."
"But Captain, the direction of the gunfire...!"
"Damn these tricks!!"
-Crack!
The man roared, crushing the gun in his hand.
"It's our gunfire! That bastard is killing our men and controlling the timing of the shots! Even a child could set up such a simple trap, and we missed it!"
The man drew his sword, throwing the gun's remains to the ground.
"He must have fired the first shot to gauge our reaction. To see if we had Line-of-Fire Detection! Our response was too quick. Damn it!"
Ordinary soldiers would seek cover the moment they hear gunfire.
But not the command post. Their captain possessed Line-of-Fire Detection.
As soon as they heard gunfire, they immediately gauged its direction and dispatched pursuit teams. That was their mistake.
"Why didn't he attack us directly? Either he's not confident in facing us, or he's in a situation where he can't afford to waste time. Why would someone so well-trained think that way, huh?"
"B-because he's alone..."
"Exactly! Damn it all. The gunfire was bait from the beginning! Gather everyone! Damn, I didn't want to face the Hero's daughter directly..."
The scar on the man's face twisted.
The Hero's daughter. Even if she inherited half of the Hero's abilities, a monster's offspring is still a monster.
He remembers the Hero. He remembers that absurd embodiment of power.
No matter how young, he can't let his guard down. Back then, the Hero was just a young man barely in his thirties.
The man loosened his shoulders and stepped forward.
"I'll deal with that girl myself. Gather the men and catch the bastard in the forest."
"Yes, Captain!"
"Are you the Hero's daughter?"
Isabelle stood under the moonlight, staring directly at a man who had emerged from the forest.
Behind her were people huddled together in fear.
A group of people gathered around a campfire, shivering from the cold, looking at her.
Isabelle shook her head. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and forcefully adjusted her heavy sword, gripping it firmly.
"No."
She opened her eyes. The moonlight dimly illuminated the surroundings. The man's silhouette became more distinct.
Fighting for her life, and fighting with others' lives on her shoulders—both were firsts for her.
But it's okay. Because this is 'right.'
"I am the daughter of Maximillian and Marie."
Not the Hero's daughter, but the daughter of two people.
That's the meaning she conveyed.
The man standing before her laughed long.
Horns rose toward the sky above his head.
A demon. Isabelle swallowed. It was also her first time facing a demon.
"Excellent."
The man nodded and adjusted his grip on his sword.
"I am Aipelos. Former member of the 6th Dragon General's Imperial Guard Infantry Division. White Captain."
"Isabelle. Affiliated with Tilles. Knight."
The night wind blew. The coniferous forest trembled. Bang, a faint gunshot sounded in the distance.
The two charged toward each other.