# Summer Rain
The summer rain began to fall, drop by drop. Rain that intensified the darkness of night and cooled the warm air.
Ivan stood in the raindrops, staring at the darkened house. Though the sound of rain reduced visibility, one thing was certain—there was no sign of life inside.
"Tsk."
He remembered Dionarr. In fact, he had memorized most of the close aides to each nation's leaders. He had even met many of Einar's longtime Huskarls in person.
Several Huskarls, including Mord, were subjects of careful observation by the United Kingdom. They were the "reserves"—promising talents expected to fill vacancies in the Hero Party.
Including Ivan himself, reserves were prepared for each role. Among them, Dionarr was counted as one of the strongest candidates to succeed Einar.
Had he already made his move? Ivan pondered briefly before shaking his head.
That couldn't be it.
The intelligence command had assigned low-level agents to the "distinguished guests" in Pritzenkaya, including Asidis. The surveillance level wasn't particularly high, but they were still protected subjects.
Moreover, the intelligence command currently suspected "Droan rebels" as likely terrorism suspects. No matter how perfectly Dionarr, a Droan native, might have infiltrated, he would be caught by the security net the moment he appeared near Asidis.
So the empty house meant... she had voluntarily gone somewhere with Mord.
Though he couldn't predict where, well... perhaps they just went for a night walk.
"That's not safe at all."
Ivan immediately turned and ran.
The rain grew increasingly heavy.
Enrique frowned as she wiped her blood-stained blade on her sleeve.
"Stay behind me."
"But, Great Teacher! Shouldn't I be doing something too?"
"Watch carefully and learn well. That's your job."
Bright red eyes blazed in the darkness. The frenzied pupils of vampires who had caught the scent of blood.
The underground waterways of Pritzenkaya. This city, older than the country's history, had waterways built since ancient times, expanded into a labyrinthine network.
Small shadows emerged from every corner.
"Grrrr!!"
In the dim light of the waterway, pale ashen skin became visible.
Cave goblins. Mining type.
Enrique frowned and muttered.
"I should have anticipated this when dwarves appeared in the outskirts."
Dwarves infiltrate by excavating underground passages. Their main purpose is rear infiltration and battlefield disruption.
As long as there is earth, there is no place dwarves cannot infiltrate. That's what they say. Of course, considering supply lines and maintenance costs, that's not entirely accurate, but still.
And areas once infiltrated by dwarves should be assumed to have their tunnels laid throughout. This meant the terrorism by a few dwarf stragglers shouldn't have been dismissed so easily.
This country had grown complacent after just four years of peace.
No. That's not it. She herself had been the same. This simply meant humans were beginning to forget war.
All people instinctively try to avoid negative memories. This is instinctual. War was an event close to historical trauma, and humans were quickly overwriting history with positive memories.
Thanks to that, civilization was being rebuilt at an astonishing pace, so it wasn't entirely negative. But she couldn't afford to be like that.
At least not her. She who was once called the ruler of Pritzenkaya's underground waterways, the thief of the Hero Party, and before that... she who had slaughtered an Elder and become the vampire king of Pritzenkaya.
"Lucia. Watch carefully."
Enrique whispered, gripping two daggers in reverse grip.
Growls and snarls echoed throughout the waterway.
Mining goblins are slave species of the dwarves, and with goblins appearing on the front lines, dwarf special forces must be hiding somewhere in that darkness.
She would end it here. So that not a single demon would dare invade the city above.
Taking a deep breath, Enrique dashed forward like lightning. Through the darkness, between countless red glowing eyes. Through the hordes of demons standing like trees and squirming like insects.
"Grr..."
"Slash."
The charging goblins suddenly froze.
What followed was the sound of bone-chilling slicing.
"CRACK!!"
The heads of the goblin horde filling the front all burst simultaneously.
The lightning that had flashed alone in frozen time finally returned to the flow of the world.
A delicate artisan's single brushstroke. Death woven from light flowed smoothly into the scabbard.
As blood rained down, Enrique walked through it, loosening her shoulders.
"This is the battlefield of the Hero Party."
"I wish I could actually see something to learn from..."
"If you couldn't see it, just feel it. Someday you'll reach it too."
Enrique patted her disciple's shoulder and continued walking.
"Rumble..."
The streets rattled. The roads, paved for carriage traffic during this period, were made of shaped brick blocks.
Those bricks were vibrating against each other. Cracks appeared everywhere—in roads and building walls alike.
An earthquake? No, that's not it.
These were excavation sounds. Ivan frowned and quickly jumped up, kicking off the ground.
He kicked off one wall, then threw himself to the opposite wall, kicked off again, and repeated.
Moving like lightning, he soon found himself hanging from the railing of the tallest building's roof.
"Rumble..."
Dust rose. Clearly visible even in the rain. Buildings shook and the ground twisted. The roads writhed like snakes.
Excavation sounds. A major city attack.
Dwarves.
"How...?"
During the last demon war, the dwarves' "excavation corps" had been thoroughly crushed. They had been one of the most threatening demon legions. The wyvern air assault battalion of the skies, the dwarf scout units of the underground. Those who forced tactical dimensions to another level.
Therefore, not a single "earth-network excavator" of the dwarves remained. Ivan clearly remembered the mission where the last excavator was destroyed.
Yet an attack of this scale, covering an entire city, would require an earth-network excavator.
That's impossible. First, the manufacturing technology for dwarf excavators has been lost, and second, it's impossible that no one would notice such a large invasion force tunneling through the ground.
The intelligence command is not incompetent. Moreover, Krasilov isn't even a front-line position.
How many countries and cities would they have to cross to reach Krasilov? There's no reason to attack this city.
"No, there is."
Except for the Hero Party. Ivan nodded. There was indeed a reason.
But still, the "how" remains unsolved.
Other countries, being pre-modern, might not detect infiltrators if they carefully avoided military garrisons and major urban areas.
No matter how skilled the intelligence agencies are, how would they catch moles tunneling underground?
But the homeland is different. Krasilov should know better.
After all, dwarf terrorism occurred near the capital just days ago. The military, especially the Capital Guard Division, would certainly have attempted ground vein probing after such incidents.
The military must, absolutely must, have known about this situation.
"Central Bank, Circular Theater, St. Yansk University, St. Chereta Cathedral, North-Pratzenko Central Police Station..."
Ivan quickly scanned the earthquake-affected downtown areas. Assuming underground tunnels and an ancient excavation relic operating beneath the ground.
By reverse-tracking the epicenter of this earthquake and the traces appearing on the ground, the spider web-like spread of seismic intensity, he could identify the epicenter.
So those five locations are the centers of this terror attack.
And this is probably all misdirection.
The key targets are the children of the Hero Party.
"Lucia is with Enrique, so she's not a concern."
"Isabelle and Oskar are in the same district, so they're on hold."
"Elfihera, considering she's in the elven residential area, is not a concern."
"And Asidis."
The other Hero Party children, due to their residential areas and characteristics, have means to buy time whether dwarves or rebels attack.
That brief time would be enough for the intelligence command to respond.
So, Asidis. This kid is in the most danger right now.
"Tap."
Ivan kicked off the wall and jumped down.
He didn't know Asidis's scent. But assuming Mord was with her, he remembered Mord's scent.
He had fought with that man, shedding blood and sweat, more than twice. Besides, Droan men rarely bathe properly. The falling rainwater would only delay, not disperse his senses.
"Why... why, brother... why...?"
"Haven't you ever thought it strange?"
Dionarr laughed, with the unconscious Asidis slung over his shoulder.
Mord, collapsed on the ground with a sword pierced through his stomach like a nail, gasped and reached out his hand. The axe he had dropped was beyond reach. Still, he didn't stop.
Because he had to protect his niece.
Because she was his brother's daughter.
And because he was his brother's brother.
That was the only reason. That was a Huskarl's duty. With trembling hands, he gasped and struggled toward the distant axe.
"If the right of kings and rulers of the world to rule others is divine authority given by Heaven, why is the rule of those holding divine authority so different from the heaven described in the Bible?"
"What does that...?"
"Just a joke."
Dionarr looked down at the dazed Mord and smirked.
Those who neither understand nor try to understand are no better than cattle. Fools who would walk willingly to the slaughterhouse as long as they could eat their feed, even under the shepherd's whip.
"What other reason could there be? My father was a jarl, so why shouldn't I be one too?"
"Your brother would..."
"Not forgive me? Ah, good. That's my intention as well."
Dionarr shrugged and walked toward the alley entrance with Asidis on his shoulder.
Rumble... The earthquake continued. Mord, feeling his blood cooling in the rain, lamented.
He had failed to protect Asidis. He was dying without a proper fight, having allowed a surprise attack.
He would not be worthy to join the eternal struggle in heaven. He would fall to the depths of hell, which... yes, would be a fitting punishment.
"Relax."
"...?"
A low voice sounded above his head.
Looking up with blurred vision, he saw the face of a rain-soaked man under the dim night sky.
"My... last words..."
"Those are for when you're dying."
The man reached out and firmly grasped the sword pierced through his stomach. With a terrible crunching sound, the blade was pulled out.
Blood gushed forth. Red blood mixed with puddles of water and flowed away.
The man looked down at Mord's wound and placed his hand on it.
"This will hurt."
"Ivan..."
"Yes."
"My niece, my niece..."
"I'll protect her."
Ivan opened a healing potion.
Even as the potion was poured directly into his abdominal wound, Mord endured without a single scream, his eyes bloodshot.
When the emergency treatment was finally complete, the exhausted Mord muttered in a cracked voice.
"I... trust you."
Ivan dragged the unconscious Mord under an eave where rain couldn't reach, sat him down, and covered him with his coat.
As long as his internal mana remained intact, a superhuman with sealed wounds who had received sufficient healing potion wouldn't die of hypothermia.
He removed the sleeve fragment clutched in Mord's hand.
He must have grabbed it reflexively during Dionarr's attack. That was fortunate.
"Inhale..."
The scent, memorized.
Ivan closed his eyes, exhaled deeply, then turned and sprinted into the darkness of the city.
"Rumble...!!"
The earthquake continued.
"Today, I will vacate the throne of Krasilov. You should prepare."
"Yes, Your Excellency. No..."
Dmitri bowed deeply toward the rain-swept terrace.
Bowing three times, touching his head to the floor, he corrected his slip of tongue.
"Your Majesty. I receive your command."
Silver hair, wet with rain, shone brilliantly under the terrace lights.