# "Surrender your weapons!!"
Behind them was a carriage, seemingly unwilling to emerge until the situation was resolved.
Before them stood numerous elves, growling with menacing weapons drawn.
The only escape was the sky high above—a fall that would shatter them instantly.
"Well, this is a perfect day to die," Yu-jin remarked with a gloomy face. He raised his shield and sword to steady himself, then abruptly shoved Yu-ri forward.
"Huh...?"
"Go, Yu-ri Franck! Top student of St. Yansk University's Knight Department!"
"Uh...?"
Yu-ri stepped forward with a bewildered expression.
"Um, well. I am the vanguard, but... by myself? Really?"
"I came from the 21st century and have never fought before!"
"I was an illustrator!!"
"You're from the Knight Department!"
"You're holding a weapon too!"
"This is just for self-defense!"
As the two began bickering, the elves surrounding them looked on with perplexed expressions.
They sounded like students, but what were they doing here? And why?
And after ambushing them with weapons, they were pushing each other to fight...?
"What should we do with them?"
"They seem to be noble students out for fun. Deal with them appropriately. Don't kill them."
University students were fundamentally nobles. They had to afford murderous tuition fees. Therefore, capturing them could lead to favorable negotiations with the Krasilov Kingdom.
As the deck officer sighed and spoke, the crew members raised their weapons with disgruntled expressions.
Fortunately, their opponents appeared to be young humans with neither the will nor experience to fight.
From behind the two armed intruders, a tall hooded man sighed deeply and raised his hand.
"How stupid. One vanguard and two rear guards—what kind of party composition is that? Haven't you ever played games?"
Oswald waved his hand, weaving a spell. Purple magical energy writhed, creating bizarre patterns following his gestures.
[Bestow Courage]. Though it was a low-level spell, he knew from experience that Yu-jin had no immunity to mental magic.
Perhaps this was natural. Transmigrators who had just crossed over from the 21st century couldn't possibly resist mental magic that had to be overcome by "will."
-Keeeing—!
"Urgh."
Yu-jin's head dropped as the spell took effect.
"What, what did you do?"
"I injected a little courage. I'll support you, so buy us some time up front. Until, well, Ivan arrives."
"Uh... okay. Um, Yu-jin?"
Yu-jin was muttering something with his head bowed.
"Hello? Are you okay?"
"Yevgeny."
"...What?"
"My name is Yevgeny Novikov Karamzin."
Yu-jin made a small sign of the cross with his sword hand, then whispered as he kissed the blade.
"May the Lord watch over our battle today."
"Um, Oswald? I think you cast the wrong spell?"
"That can't be. It was definitely [Bestow Courage]..."
Ignoring the perplexed transmigrators' conversation, Yu-jin quietly opened his eyes.
With blue eyes burning with firm resolve, he raised his sword high.
"Praise the glory of the Lord. He who establishes virtue through justice and brings peace to this land."
"Uh...okay..."
"Did mixing priest and warrior classes with courage cause some kind of conflict?"
"That's... quite impressive. Don't use that on me. I'll manage on my own."
Had he lost his self-awareness? Yu-ri trembled with fear.
Let's say that's what happens when you lose your sense of self while embodying a game character and becoming completely immersed in RP (roleplaying).
Then what would her own self look like if she became immersed in roleplaying in an adult academy game?
Rather than that, it was better to fight with a sword. Fortunately, Yu-ri had exceptional talent in swordsmanship. As befitting the top student of the Knight Department.
"Heathens!! Hear the holy words of our Lord God!! Worship Him, praise Him!!"
Yu-jin shouted and leaped forward, swinging his sword. Kwang! A harsh explosion erupted as brilliant white light blazed from his blade.
"[Holy Strike]...!"
"That idiot. He should have learned healing skills instead."
Yu-ri and Oswald grumbled as they followed the charging Yu-jin.
The three transmigrators succeeded in causing a commotion on the deck. All according to Ivan's plan.
Ivan listened carefully as he walked through the dark ship corridor with flashing warning lights.
Weeing, weeing. He mapped each tiny sound that came through the blaring sirens.
Repetitive noise in a confined indoor space can be used as a reference for echo positioning if one can distinguish the source of the noise.
Though not as keen as elves, a well-trained agent's hearing can identify targets through the time difference in echoes as sound waves bounce off objects.
In this way, Ivan could sense two people standing around the corner of the corridor before he turned it.
-Tang—!
Almost simultaneously with revealing himself in the corridor, he fired. The opponent, startled, quickly twisted his body to dodge the line of fire.
Line-of-Fire Detection, huh.
Ivan nodded and drew his axe.
"Who are you!"
Wrong question. It was an indicator of these guys' training level.
The first principle is to neutralize the opponent before questioning after being fired upon, and asking for the identity of someone with clear hostile intent is an incredibly foolish question.
So instead of answering, Ivan lunged forward. The clumsy elf crewman had to pay the price for his wrong question.
-Whoong
-Kwang!
"Kheuk!"
The axe spun in the air and struck the elf's neck. A clean trajectory and powerful strike. The elf made a choking sound and was slammed against the wall.
Simultaneously, Ivan aimed his pistol at another elf rushing toward him. Without even aiming properly, he fired.
-Tang—!!
"You bastard!!"
Of course, the elf dodged. He had Line-of-Fire Detection. But Ivan needed that brief moment when the guy twisted his body to avoid the bullet.
By the time the elf turned back, Ivan had already swung his axe under the elf's chin.
-Kwang—!!
The elf collapsed with his jaw twisted, unable to even groan.
Having struck with the blunt side rather than the blade, it was more like hitting with a short bludgeon, but as long as they didn't die, that was fine.
Ivan kicked aside the elf with the broken jaw and continued walking.
-Weeeeeing!
-Weeeeeing!!
The sirens blared loudly through the corridor.
Through the corridor with buzzing red warning lights, Ivan moved with his eyes closed.
Weeing, weeing. Calculating the time difference of sound waves reflecting off every corner of the corridor.
Captain Onest of the "Boyle's Glory," a "Wolfstahl"-class airship of the Kalion Archipelago, was frowning in his captain's quarters.
The last report he received clearly stated, "Unidentified students attempted a raid and are being neutralized."
The attack happened just as he was preparing for a secret agreement with Crown Prince Alexandr, which made him nervous, but that was the extent of it.
It was their own fault for docking the ship above a university in the first place.
It would be natural for spirited young people of that age to have a drink and attempt to infiltrate using levitation magic or something similar.
At that age, wanting to prove courage or bravery was common.
But, but.
"Why is there no follow-up report?"
Apparently, there were just three young students.
Since all students at St. Yansk University were either nobles or at least from influential middle-class families, he had ordered their capture.
No matter how arrogant elves might be, they couldn't kill students of another country on foreign territory.
However, even so, they were just three students. There's a limit to how much learning they could have, and no matter how bold they might be for their age, it still meant "student level."
So whether the capture was successful or they somehow escaped below deck, there should have been some additional report by now, 10 minutes after the attack.
"Is nobody there? Guard! Check the deck situation and report back!"
He shouted irritably. It was impossible for him to go to the deck himself.
After all, Crown Prince Alexandr's envoy would be arriving on the deck. It wouldn't look good for the captain to greet them personally, and appearing weak in this situation before a secret agreement between nations would be the end of it.
"Is nobody there? What are you all doing! And turn off that damn siren! It's too noisy to live!"
Finally, Onest rose from his seat.
With an impatient attitude, he crossed the captain's quarters and flung open the door.
-Weeeing!
In the corridor where the noisy sirens were blaring, however, no lights were visible.
Is it broken? The thought briefly crossed his mind. But he soon shook his head.
It couldn't be broken. This was an attack.
"Tch!"
He grimaced and quickly hid behind the door. Drawing a ceremonial sword from the wall decoration, he took a deep breath.
"Did Elizabeta send you!"
"..."
"Damn it, I know you're there, answer me! Student attack? Don't make me laugh. Using students for a diversion?!"
He couldn't tell what the situation was like on deck, but at least it wasn't over yet.
No matter how impressive the forces they brought, they couldn't possibly wipe out the entire crew in 10 minutes with just three people.
So, he would try to hold out. So that Crown Prince Alexandr could consider military intervention once he assessed the situation.
Neither Onest nor Alexandr would want Elizabeta to find out at this point.
Then, a voice echoed.
"The Minister of the Royal Household must have told you."
"What...?"
Onest turned his head toward the low voice coming from the end of the corridor.
The distance was probably the end of the compartment corridor in front of the captain's quarters. At that distance, even a company-sized destruction spell wouldn't reach the captain's quarters.
He nodded and interlaced his fingers. Blue magical energy blazed and wove through his fingertips.
Then.
-Booooong—!!
With a sound that tore through the air.
-Kwaaaang!!
"Something" that passed through the open door struck the captain's round table.
A spell? Destruction magic? Onest hurriedly turned his head, preparing to cast a defensive spell in case it was an explosive magic.
"...An axe...?"
An axe with a rope attached was embedded in the captain's round table, having half-destroyed it.
Onest muttered blankly.
"So the term 'Woodsman' was... literal?"
It turned out to be a plain expression without any malicious metaphor.
Onest laughed hollowly.
Ping, the rope attached to the axe was pulled taut.
-Kwajik!
The axe was pulled out along the rope, spinning around and striking Onest's leg with its elastic recoil.
"Kheuk!"
Fortunately, he was hit with the blunt side, not the blade. Onest rolled across the floor with a twisted ankle, escaping the axe's range.
The axe disappeared as if sucked into the darkness at the end of the corridor. As Onest shakily stood up using his sword as a cane, footsteps were heard from the darkness. Step, step.
Blue eyes flickered among the shadows.
Soon, a bushy beard.
Arms with veins protruding like snakes, and an axe blade firmly gripped in those hands.
And a pistol aimed at him.
"Let's negotiate."
"That's not the order I received."
-Tang—!
In the darkened corridor, sparks flew from the end of the pistol.