# Enhanced Translation
The dwarves have dark vision. Since they were a race that originally lived underground, this wasn't strange.
Though it didn't mean they could see through darkness as clearly as daylight, they could still perceive objects relatively clearly in the dark.
Therefore, Astuk could see the man approaching.
'...A large dwarf?'
Astuk was confused!
"Isabelle."
"Ah, sir?!! How did you get here...?!"
"Are you injured anywhere."
Ivan walked steadily over and stood beside Isabelle. He clicked his tongue briefly before placing his hand on her shoulder.
"Yes! Yes, I'm. I'm fine!"
"Good. Then don't move from this spot."
VIP protection was included in the basic training course for the Annihilation Squad, but that didn't guarantee perfect safety in darkness.
Before a fierce battle, it's important to always keep track of the protected person's location.
Of course, Ivan was an extremely efficient person, so he didn't consider how his words might sound.
'I've seen this before... it happens often in romance novels!'
Isabelle's eyes spun in circles. As the tension suddenly released, she let out a sigh.
Her legs trembled. Fear hit her belatedly. Perhaps it was the suspension bridge effect, but she couldn't help but rely on a man who appeared before her in a life-threatening crisis.
And those words, "Stay in that spot."
Like a knight in a story asking his lady to wait until he returns from slaying an ancient dragon.
'This is a confession. Ah, this is troublesome... I guess I have no choice. Since immediately accepting would be inappropriate, I should first ask if he's free on the weekend. As a reward.'
Isabelle was confused!
A pistol in his left hand, a longsword in his right. Five daggers hanging at his waist and an axe slung across his back.
After quickly checking his armaments, Ivan walked forward slowly.
They're scared. Ivan inhaled softly.
Living beings display several common signs. Hormonal mechanisms are one such sign.
Physical enhancement through magical power and the extreme efficiency increase in neural transmission systems bring about various chain reactions. Among them is the amplification of each sensory organ.
Take the sense of smell, for instance. One becomes able to capture even the tiniest scents floating in the air.
Thus, even volatile body odors produced when secreted sweat evaporates can be detected. In the Domain of the Transcendent, this is an extremely important indicator.
Because you can read the opponent's emotions.
Although this pre-modern society doesn't yet have the word "hormone," human structure remains the same, so body odor changes subtly according to emotions.
This becomes a physical indicator of emotions like "killing intent," "fear," or "affection."
Cortisol, secreted when a living being feels fear. This distinctive scent was seeping thickly among the dwarves.
"Are you afraid?"
"Bullshit!"
Astuk gritted his teeth. The man was alone.
Since war is ultimately a battle of morale, it's difficult to establish a fight when one side is already losing in terms of momentum.
He instinctively classified the fight with Ivan as a "war." Ignoring this fact deliberately, he raised his weapon.
"Annihilation Squad. You cursed beings... I'll kill you and honor the spirits of my comrades who departed before me!"
"They all say that."
Astuk needed time to understand those words.
They all say that?
A chill ran down his spine.
It was a calm confession that he had heard such words numerous times before, and had killed them all.
Astuk raised his axe with solemn eyes. Following his movement, everyone in the formation simultaneously raised their weapons.
Click, clack.
The heavy sound of metal friction echoed through the tunnel.
Ah, nostalgic.
The memory of facing dwarf formations in tunnels from past battlefields.
It was during the Mining War.
Ivan thought as he raised his sword. A narrow indoor space with limited visibility, dwarves filling the entire passage. A terrible formation impervious to axes or bullets.
Now they're gone. Ivan gripped his sword tighter in the midst of a lingering sense of loss.
But now, these aren't the military forces from that time. At most, about thirty. Even generously counting, no more than fifty in this small infantry unit.
And he is no longer Captain Ivan Petrovich from that era.
Ten years have passed since the Mining War.
Ivan has gained ten years of experience.
-Bang—!!
It began with a shot. The purpose was both intimidation and securing visibility.
In a slow sense of time where space seemed to fragment, Ivan charged forward.
The stationary dwarf formation was like a turtle. Solid, stubborn, and unhurried. Therefore, the tactical dimension had to be placed on speed.
"He's coming!!"
A frightened voice echoed through the tunnel. A familiar occurrence.
Dwarves typically belonged to rear infiltration units in demon armies, and such operations were the most suitable environment for the Annihilation Squad.
That's why the Annihilation Squad was always cited as the individual unit that killed the most dwarves during wartime.
-Clang!
The greeting was a sword strike. This downward slash was a feint. Before the one standing at the very front could even react, Ivan lightly struck his shoulder blade.
The opponent's weapon thrust out immediately. Hearing only the sound of it cutting through the air, Ivan twisted his body to avoid it.
He closed his eyes and counted seconds. Ivan was precisely counting his steps.
One stride equals 86cm. Isabelle is five steps behind.
Seven steps to reach the formation's leader. The formation's width is thirteen steps.
The range in which he can operate is seventeen steps.
-Clang!!
Avoiding various weapons suddenly pouring down over his body, he dove in once.
Clang, clack! The sound of thrusting the longsword below the elbow of the one standing at the front.
Click, clack. The friction sound of heavy armored figures moving in coordination.
Under his closed eyes, the images of the enemies captured on his retina when he fired distort.
Analyzing each surrounding sound by mapping it, he updates the positions and postures of the enemies in real time.
"This monster!!"
Such a cry was heard just as he "peeled" one enemy's shell and sliced his forearm.
Monster, huh? Amusing. Ivan knew the battles of real "monsters."
-Crunch!
Ignoring the terrible scream of the one whose arm was sliced, he spun his body and moved two and a half steps to the side.
He thrust a dagger into the nape of the neck of one who had just raised his arm to bring down an axe, then moved another one and a half steps to the right.
-Crack!
The next one was swinging a war hammer. Deflecting the heavy sound past his head, he lowered his stance and thrust in his longsword.
Crunch. The chipped longsword broke, as expected. He had felt the blade being worn down through his fingertips from the moment the fight began.
So he didn't panic. This level of durability was familiar to Ivan.
"He dropped his weapon!!"
No, I let it go.
Ivan ducked his head and moved two steps to the side. Right at his feet lay an axe. It was the weapon dropped by the first one whose arm he had cut.
As soon as he picked it up, he twisted his waist to avoid the next attack and raised his left hand.
Aim, align breath, fire.
-Bang—!!
"Arrrghhhh!!"
The broken longsword was already embedded in the gap of one's armor. A precise pinpoint shot. Like hammering on a nail, the enemy's chest burst open.
He threw the pistol into the air and rushed forward. He snatched the war hammer dropped by the enemy with his left hand and twisted his body.
One hand up, the other to the side.
And crossing them as they came down.
-Crash!!
As soon as the fallen axe embedded itself in one's helmet, the hammer he swung with perfect accuracy smashed that one's head.
As the enemy's body lost strength and staggered, falling, he threw the hammer and caught the pistol in mid-air.
Without aiming, straight ahead, toward the commander five steps away.
Fire.
-Bang—!!
This time he opened his eyes. The battle situation came into view again. As the flame from the pistol subsided, he closed his eyes again and pictured the modified formation in his mind.
The sounds of the battlefield, the scent of the enemies, their positions engraved under his retina. The sensation of wind brushing against his cheeks.
Between breaths, the battlefield of the transcendent.
Ah, nostalgic.
Ivan reminisced again as he ran.
Because the human body is fragile. Because it can be incapacitated by a dagger less than three inches long.
Close combat is always a crossroads between life and death, wagered with one's life.
In between, in a clearly disadvantageous situation, in the middle of enemy territory.
He had been living having forgotten this sensation of charging toward the heart of the enemy. For four years since the last battle, there hadn't been any situation that could be called combat.
So, on this familiar battlefield, Ivan was even feeling a sense of nostalgia.
Ivan was a highly objective person, so he thought himself broken.
And that was a feeling that stood out even more in everyday life. Among ordinary people laughing and chatting, he even felt alienated.
So, here. At least in this moment where life flickers. He could be a necessary person.
He was still living in war. While hating the battlefield, yet longing for everyday life. While yearning for home.
Feeling the scent of his missed comrades, Ivan counted his steps.
Now one step.
The enemies' "head" is 86cm ahead.
What feeling should one have toward a madman who "slaughters" comrades with a faint smile?
With each breath, one comrade falls.
Block, kill, no, don't! My arm! Argh!
Amidst it all, screams couldn't exceed syllabic units. On that battlefield where only death rattles echoed.
The madman of the Annihilation Squad continued his "work" silently, without a word.
Broken armor flies up overhead. Torn limbs and droplets of blood scatter in the air.
It's a storm. Taking the form of a disaster that individuals cannot resist.
Literally whirling, holding weapons, gripping, rushing.
Finally. Even when he came right before his eyes.
His breathing was no different from the beginning.
"I am... I am 5th Dragon Knight Direct 3rd Battalion, 'Webmaker' Engineering Corps... Senior Captain Astuk. What is your name...!"
"Ivan Petrovich."
"...ha...."
Astuk nodded.
I heard he was dead.
Yes. That's right. He was alive. If that was the reason he could intrude into this forest at the most precise moment, it made sense.
"That beard. Did you copy us?"
"...?"
Ivan's face contorted for the first time.
While Ivan was an extremely cold-blooded man, he never tolerated insults to the late king.
Instead of answering, he swung the axe that a nameless soldier had been holding.
"You can move now."
"My legs feel like they've given out."
Isabelle smiled as she heard Ivan's footsteps approaching steadily.
Just from the sound, she could clearly feel how fierce the battle had been. Even standing quietly right behind, the heat of the fierce battle seemed to reach her.
Honestly, it was overwhelming.
She stretched out both arms and said:
"Carry me on your back."
Since her legs had given out, it would be better to carry her than wait for her to walk.
Ivan was an efficient person, so he silently offered his back.
Soon, warm hands wrapped around his neck.
"Are you hurt?"
"No."
"You've been through a lot."
"Yes."
"Today might not be good, but could I treat you to dinner tomorrow evening?"
Ivan was currently an undercover agent affiliated with the counterintelligence headquarters.
He was a frugal person, so he would not improperly acquire money or goods from his protection target.
"No."
"Huh."