I extend my magic power, spreading it evenly throughout my nervous system.
I hold my breath, calibrating the sensation of magic flowing through my blood vessels.
-Click.
A sense that would normally go unnoticed awakens. The segmentation of time, the tip of my index finger pulling the trigger, even the subtle friction sound of the spring twisting inside the gun is detected.
This is the battlefield of superhumans.
-Bang—!
Firing. I open my eyes simultaneously.
The flame erupting from the muzzle briefly illuminates the dark tunnel interior.
This is why I heightened my senses. To prevent the sudden light source from causing vision loss to eyes that had already adapted to darkness.
My optic nerves sting painfully, but it's fine. I'm used to this much.
The silhouettes of three people imprinted on Ivan's retina like afterimages.
"A gun! Someone else is here!"
"Damn, where were they hiding?!"
The figure leaning against the wall is Oskar. The two small figures slowly walking through the tunnel were dwarves.
With the shot, I confirmed sparks flying near the dwarf's head.
Standard dwarf infantry equipment.
Ivan immediately shifted his aim and rushed forward.
"He's coming! Get ready!"
The dwarf at the front screamed. Considering the afterimage still lingering on his retina, this one was armed with a double-headed axe.
Standard dwarf infantry equipment means a ridiculous plate armor covering the entire body like a golem. Thick and grotesque equipment that won't even crack under ordinary attacks.
Except for a few vulnerabilities at the eye holes and joints, it provides almost absolute defense against external strikes.
'That's why I use a sword.'
That's the reason for not using an axe. No matter how much you strike with an axe, it won't even dent. This race has survived being buried under mountains in past wars.
They withstood the weight of massive boulders through the sturdiness of their armor.
A martial art developed to deal with such creatures.
-Skak!
"Ha! Human! Not a chance!"
The blade sparked as it scraped the surface of the plate armor. A long hollow sound as the sword deflected.
-Whoosh!
Sensing the direction and speed instantly, I ducked. A large axe blade sliced through the air right above Ivan.
Letting it pass, I raised my left hand and fired again.
-Bang—!!
This time I shot at another dwarf behind this one. Sparks flew from the muzzle, and I saw the creature again.
Posture, balance, armor vulnerabilities, the smirking expression, even the long ashen beard growing below his chin.
Ivan held his sword straight up and struck quickly.
-Kak!!
"You bastard!"
The dwarf's roar was heard. A precise strike targeting the joint, with incredible precision in the darkness.
But this isn't enough. The dwarf thought so and swung his axe again.
-Whoosh—!
Dodge again, kak. Strike the same spot. A mechanical repetition of this process.
The armor's weakness is the joint section reinforced with chain mail and gambeson. While sufficient for blade protection, it's not enough to withstand a superhuman's sword strike.
So again, kak!
"This technique...! Were you on the battlefield 10 years ago?"
"Is that all?"
I answered without thinking. Ivan smiled wryly. The Kim Seon-woo inside him was screaming that it was 20 years.
Regardless of emotions, his hands did what they needed to do.
-Bang—!
Firing again. Securing momentary vision and avoiding the approaching dwarf from behind, stepping back while swinging the sword. Kak, cutting through the chain.
The one who first invented this technique was him. Lieutenant Colonel Ivan Petrovich. He was a captain at that time.
The name of this technique is 'Dwarf Skinning.'
"Eeek...!!"
Kak, kang!
Finally, the creature's shoulder plate was torn off. When the blade deflected upward from the impact, I naturally released the sword handle and immediately reached for my waist.
It took less than a breath to draw a dagger from the waist storage and plunge it into the exposed bare shoulder of the creature.
-Thunk!
"Arrrgh!!"
A shoulder injury is fatal to a warrior. It's like losing an arm. The movement of the dwarf holding the double-headed axe noticeably slows.
But there are two enemies. The dwarf warrior who finally approached swung his weapon.
"Stop!!"
-Whoosh—!!
Dodging the weapon again, I raised the pistol in my left hand. This time, aiming precisely with controlled breathing, I fired.
-Bang—!
"Aaaaargh!!"
One shot precisely at the dagger hilt stuck in the shoulder. The dagger flew off, disappearing into the darkness of the tunnel. The dwarf whose shoulder was forcibly torn screamed and collapsed.
Now I spin around to reposition. When I put down the gun and draw another dagger from my waist.
-Swoosh.
The sword I first threw into the air finally began to fall. I caught the hilt precisely in mid-air and swung it again.
-Kak!
I apply the 'Skinning' technique again toward the newly appeared dwarf. In this moment of mapping breath and time.
Like a whirlwind, inserting the blade and twisting to peel the armor layer by layer.
With the precision of a surgeon performing an operation, exactly. Stitch by stitch.
In deep darkness where not even an inch ahead is visible, facing two dwarves with dark vision. Using both hands simultaneously.
Dismantling each of their armors and plunging daggers into the exposed flesh, throwing the held sword into the air, firing the pistol, catching the falling sword again and swinging it.
"What... is this...?"
Oskar gaped, swallowing his groan.
Just moments ago, he had resolved to fight with his life and die honorably according to chivalry.
But right before his eyes, a strange man appeared and was slaughtering unknown enemies.
"The sounds are almost overlapping."
This is beyond common sense. The sounds of sword swings almost overlapped. This means the gaps between sword strikes are extremely dense.
How is such movement even possible? Oskar laughed helplessly.
If that man was the attacker, I would have no choice but to die.
The battle ended in an instant. The mysterious man who jumped in when the first gunshot was heard returned with the thick smell of blood before two breaths had passed.
"Can you see anything?"
Humans don't have dark vision. Only races like dwarves or demons possess this trait. So, this question also meant asking if he was human.
"You don't need to see to fight."
"Ha...."
"Is your leg injured?"
"Yes, embarrassingly, it broke when I was caught in the landslide."
"You have the orb, I assume?"
"Yes."
"Then wait here quietly. Stay silent."
The man turned to leave. Oskar hastily raised his head.
"Wait! Just a moment! Could I at least know your name?"
"Ivan Petrovich."
"Where, where are you going? If I can help in any way, I will!"
"Students should focus on their studies."
The sound of the man chuckling could be heard in the darkness.
The departing footsteps returned, and he placed his hand on Oskar's head.
"I never liked your father, but it seems he succeeded in raising his child. Oskar, son of Gilbert. Your actions were admirable."
"...Do you know my father?"
"If that fellow hasn't forgotten me yet, then we're friends."
The man turned to leave again. This time he didn't look back and walked away silently.
Toward somewhere beyond the tunnel, step by step. The rhythmic footsteps gradually faded away.
Isabelle sat quietly in the darkness.
Fortunately, she had come down without major injuries, but she wasn't foolish enough to move recklessly in a place where nothing was visible.
"Will the test be canceled? I won't fail, right?"
That was her only concern. It seemed like 4 hours had already passed, but she couldn't even gauge exactly how much time had elapsed.
-Step, step.
Isabelle's head shot up. She heard footsteps.
Has the rescue team finally arrived? Isabelle jumped up and shouted.
"Here! There's someone here!"
"What's your name?"
"Isabelle! Wait, are you rescuing people based on their names?!"
"Found her! Target secured!! Call the captain!"
"Huh?"
Target? Captain?
Isabelle's mind spun, and she was suddenly startled.
The suddenly collapsed ground, the rushing soil, and the cave where nothing was visible.
And now 'target,' 'captain.' Could this be...?
"Really! This is getting ridiculous!"
Again! Another terrorist attack in this forest, and this time targeting her specifically.
How many people were caught up in this attack? How many were sacrificed in the process?
Isabelle gritted her teeth.
Judging by them saying they found the target, and the fact that they appeared quite some time after she fell into the trap, this clearly wasn't an incident involving just one or two people.
Soon, heavy footsteps echoed throughout the cave.
-Step, step, step.
A group was approaching her. Silently, without even murmuring.
Trained soldiers. And with 'dark vision' or an equivalent spell cast. That much would be necessary to walk as a group in this dark cave.
Isabelle held her sword upright. Her eyes were blazing with anger.
She was done with others sacrificing themselves for her.
She was sick of living with guilt for those who had sacrificed themselves.
So, to release this directionless anger, she took a deep breath and.
"I am Isabelle, daughter of Maximillian and Marie. A knight of Tilles. State your name!"
"Indeed, you have spirit."
A heavy voice was heard from far away.
"5th Dragon Corps, 3rd Battalion, 'Webmaker' Engineering Corps. I am Senior Captain Astuk. In your terms, well, I'd be equivalent to a Thousand-Man Commander."
As soon as she heard those words, Isabelle thought of Aipelos, the White Commander that Ivan had defeated. That officer of demon origin.
The fight with him was truly a life-or-death struggle. His rank was White Commander, so assuming demon ranks are based on power logic...
'He's stronger than that guy back then.'
Isabelle clenched her mouth shut. A Thousand-Man Commander might not literally be ten times stronger than a White Commander, but the power gap would clearly be that significant.
And he's not alone. A series of figures were approaching with him.
And her vision was extremely limited. Not just limited—she couldn't see anything.
'Am I really going to die like this...?'
There was no fear. Wasn't death always expected the moment one drew a sword?
She thought of her father. Maximillian would not have shown fear even in this situation.
So. At least, she must not show fear in the face of death before these demons.
She is a knight of Tilles. And the daughter of a hero. Among the many privileges she had enjoyed, there was no right to feel fear.
Only duty. Only the duty to remain composed even in the face of death.
"Come. I, Isabelle of Tilles, will die standing today!"
"...Comrade. How old did you say this one is?"
"Yes, Captain Comrade! This little one is twenty years old this year!"
"Let's modify the plan. Kill her without fail. We must not leave any future trouble."
Any demon of Thousand-Man Commander rank would remember the Hero Party. Even if they had never faced them directly, to demons, heroes were the embodiment of 'death.'
Meet them and die. Get close and die. Don't flee when rumors are heard and die.
They were truly natural disasters. And they belonged to the category of unpredictable disasters. Since the Hero Party's movement routes were top-secret information of the Allied Kingdoms, the Hero Party always 'raided' enemy territory.
No matter how many tracking teams were sent, none returned. They thoroughly concealed their positions.
The Hero Party, which reigned as the terror of demons, eventually slaughtered the Demon King. And the war ended. Unfortunately for the demons, there was no opportunity to overcome their 'hero trauma.'
So, this little one showing courage impossible for her age.
She must be killed. Her head must be taken back.
The comrades in the homeland must be informed that even the 'symbol of fear' cannot escape death...
"Go ahead, try to kill me. A knight of Tilles does not fall alone!"
Isabelle wanted to run away. She wanted to collapse. She was just a young woman barely over twenty.
But she couldn't.
If she thought of the many people sacrificed in the train terrorist attack that day, and her classmates caught up in the current attack.
She had no right to despair in the face of approaching death.
'That's a bit of regret.'
She definitely regretted not being able to go on a date with the professor. Thinking about it now, the feelings she had when thinking of him were clearly not just admiration.
So it's a shame. She could have expressed more.
-Tsk, tsk, tsk.
"...?"
A rhythmic sound came from beyond the cave.
Tsk, tsk. A short noise of friction between tongue and front teeth.
What is this sound? Astuk narrowed his eyes. This sound echoing in the tension and silence before battle. Somehow familiar.
Like I've heard it somewhere before...
'A rhythmic clicking sound...? Human, echolocation!?'
As the memory surfaced, several assumptions followed in sequence.
'There's only one human group that has mastered echolocation enough to use it in combat.'
'That group was secretly cultivated by the Krasilov monarchy during the last war.'
'And this is Krasilov....'
Astuk was startled and raised his weapon tightly.
If the Hero Party embodied the fear of death,
'That group' was. To demons who possessed dark vision, they made darkness itself fearful. They embodied the 'terror of the night.'
Assassins intensively trained by Enrique the Shadow Sword.
Those for whom questions of 'when,' 'where,' and 'how' were meaningless.
Literally, those who accomplish their goals 'anytime,' 'anywhere,' and 'anyhow' and disappear like shadows of the night.
"Annihilation Squad!! Those cursed ones still remain?! Comrades, take up arms! Be vigilant!"
-Tsk, tsk, tsk...
The rhythmic noise echoed through the cave, then abruptly stopped.
Silence settled heavily around. The dwarves, who seemed ready to pounce at any moment, had established a defensive formation and were crouching firmly in place.
Isabelle swallowed hard and looked around. She couldn't see anything, but she could tell something was off about the enemies' demeanor.
'Annihilation Squad...? What is that...?'
It was a name she'd never heard before. But it seemed famous to them. Their demeanor, which had been as calm as if they were out for a neighborhood stroll until just now, had instantly frozen and become tense.
And then.
-Click.
With a heavy sound of metal chunks rubbing together.
-Bang—!
There was light.