"I'll release my position...?"
"You broke your oath of loyalty."
"Oath of loyalty?! Does this country dare claim I owe it more loyalty? No, that's not right. Ivan, even your loyalty... this country doesn't deserve our devotion."
Ivan doesn't converse with madmen. He's too rational for that. His training didn't include psychological counseling. Persuading and treating lunatics is the job of psychiatrists (who don't exist in this world).
He quietly raised his gun and aligned the sights.
His armament consisted of a single pistol with twenty rounds.
His opponent was a transcendent, and a well-trained one at that. Naturally, pistol bullets wouldn't be effective.
Yet there's a reason why pistols are included in the Annihilation Squad's basic equipment. It means there are still ways to utilize them even in situations like this.
"You're not listening. Have you been brainwashed?"
"Pavel."
"Yes, are you finally ready to talk?"
"No."
Ivan spoke while gauging the angle of Pavel's wrist gripping the spear shaft.
"We weren't trained to talk before combat."
At those words, Pavel gritted his teeth and glared at him.
Here it comes.
Ivan stood motionless, only bending his wrist to adjust his aim. The spear blade flew toward his head.
-Swooosh!!
With a sound that tore through the air, the spear—said to have torn a dragon's throat—lunged at him.
But he knew its trajectory.
Ivan watched the spear blade and bent his wrist. The gun barrel pointed three inches ahead of the spear's path.
He didn't need precise aiming. Within 10 meters, Ivan's shooting required no consideration of aiming posture or target speed.
-Bang—!!
-Crack!!
Sparks flew from the tip of the spear blade. Its trajectory faltered as the blade scratched empty air and retreated.
This was to be expected. Even a 9mm bullet carries kinetic energy of 400J. Stripping away complex engineering calculations and thinking simply, the impact of a bullet can easily distort the trajectory of a spear blade.
Provided one can hit it.
"What is this...!"
Shooting a gun to hit the spear blade and change its attack trajectory? That's no different from intercepting an arrow with another arrow!
"Let's see how long you can keep this up!!"
Pavel gritted his teeth and readied his spear.
Yes, with remarkable concentration, good eyesight, and sufficient skill, such a technique is possible.
But it can't be sustained forever. It's a technique that requires luck and timing. With just a slight error, the spear blade would tear through Ivan's neck without any resistance.
Yet there was no fear in Ivan's eyes. Even in that moment when he danced on the edge of a blade with his life at stake.
"Nineteen."
The number of remaining bullets.
Implying that he could succeed precisely once with each shot.
But not with confident certainty. Rather, in a tone stating a simple fact.
Ivan took a step forward as he spoke.
The distance was 3 meters.
Since his stride was always 78cm, within four steps.
In that space, Pavel could deliver a maximum of 17 strikes.
So, more than enough.
Ivan never rushes. Taking one step forward, his gaze fixed on the spear blade and the wrist holding it.
If he tried to avoid Pavel's attack, it would create variables. So, he entrusted the only means of defending his body entirely to his pistol.
One step. An empty body, full of openings, standing tall with his back straight, as if inviting an attack at any time. He took a step.
"How dare you—!!"
-Swish!!
-Click, Bang—!!
Sparks flew from the spear blade.
-Swish! Swoosh!!
-Click, Bang, Bang—!!
Whether striking upward at the waist or thrusting down at the thigh.
The trajectory twisted, hitting empty air before returning, over and over.
Toward Pavel's spear blade, which even he couldn't track with the naked eye. One shot at a time, precisely ahead of its trajectory.
Precisely, without gaps.
This wasn't human skill. Pavel finally realized.
"Is this... the skill of the Hero Party...!"
"What are you talking about?"
-Click, Bang—!!
Five strikes in the next step.
Accurately shooting down all those strikes, he took another step forward.
"If one of the Hero Party members were here, you wouldn't even be standing right now."
Even Gilbert, who was coldly evaluated as having the least combat power (though this is debatable), could have slaughtered Pavel in a single breath.
Therefore, methods for facing transcendents with only small firearms like pistols were merely desperate survival techniques that second-line units like the Annihilation Squad had to master.
Pavel laughed hollowly, his face full of madman's arrogance.
"You're insane."
The initial intensity was now hard to find. Ivan deflected three spear strikes with bullets and stood completely.
Finally, four steps.
A distance too short to create a strike even if the spear blade was retrieved. Seven bullets remained.
But now the pistol was no longer needed. When facing a transcendent, a pistol is a kind of defensive equipment. It means it's a tool used to defend against a transcendent's attacks.
So.
-Click.
"...?"
He discarded the gun. As a defensive tool for closing distance, the pistol had already served its purpose.
Confusion clouded Pavel's eyes. Ivan looked at Pavel with a hollow gaze and slowly raised his fist.
Bullets don't penetrate transcendents. Line-of-Fire Detection is an instinct that activates with highest priority at any moment.
There's no need to unnecessarily telegraph attack timing. Even the momentary momentum from detection to firing can be fatal in transcendent combat.
-Whoosh—!
Ivan's fist cut through the air. Toward Pavel's face as he stared blankly.
-Tap, Crack!!
He hastily defended by striking the wrist. As expected. While spear techniques belonged to the realm of family secrets and needed visual confirmation, close-quarters combat followed standard forms. Since Ivan had learned the same martial arts as Pavel.
He could anticipate defensive forms based on attack trajectories.
Everything that can be anticipated is merely an external factor that a trained agent can utilize.
-Thwack, Thud!
The first strike hit Pavel's chest.
Coughing, Pavel caught his breath and took his stance. At some point, Pavel had also put down his spear and was facing him with his fists.
Wise. At this distance, wielding a spear would be no different from staff techniques.
Before Pavel could steady his stance, once more.
-Thud!!
"Cough!!"
Once in the chest, once more in the waist, pushing away the blocking hand with his palm, and in between, planting his fist into the jaw.
Ugh, hack! Breath that couldn't be drawn was squeezed out. Lungs that couldn't absorb the impact were causing respiratory distress.
Ivan's eyes read Pavel's condition. Beyond form, he could infer the internal situation.
In the Domain of the Transcendent, extremely sensitive hearing and touch could deduce what would happen in the opponent's body at the moment of impact, in the midst of that collision.
-Thud!!
The small sound of breaking bones, groans bubbling up from within. The sensation of the opponent's muscles twisting, centered around Pavel's right upper arm, which was slowly ceasing to function.
In the momentary time when the right hand's nerves were paralyzed by the strike, before he could regain his stance, once more.
-Thud!!
A strike to the jaw, and during the brief short that occurred as the head shook, the next impact.
Flailing, knocking away the hand raised for defense, and in between, pushing in his fist like a snake for another strike.
Thus accumulated, dozens of direct hits.
-Thud, Thud, Thud!
"Hack! Stop! Urgh...!!"
Pavel staggered backward, flailing his hands. Ivan followed. The fact that he could still speak meant that disarmament hadn't been fully achieved.
He drove in his fist. Since a transcendent's body can itself become a weapon, one must never let their guard down until they are completely neutralized.
Indeed, carelessness is the most fatal adversary that kills agents. Ivan wasn't trained to be careless.
-Thud! Thud! Thud!
Pavel's legs gave way under the accumulated impact. He was staggering, trying hard to maintain balance.
So, there was an opening in his lower body.
-Whoosh!
He tripped him and mounted him, grabbing Pavel's face. With that, he applied force and—Bang!
Bang, Bang!
Feeling Pavel's mouth gurgling under his hand, he slammed his head against the floor. Like hammering.
Soon, he felt blood on his entire palm. Pavel, who had coughed up blood from the successive impacts, went limp.
Finally, he had succeeded in neutralizing him. Ivan satisfactorily dusted off his hands and stood up.
-Click.
As he picked up the discarded gun and approached Pavel's head.
"The Great King...! Cough!! The Great King was murdered...!!"
Pavel shouted, spitting blood-mixed saliva.
Ivan was about to raise the gun barrel but stopped, quietly looking down at Pavel.
"You still don't understand... Cough! Damn it! Don't you understand! The Great King... the Great King was murdered!"
"Yes. The Seven Dragon Generals...."
"No!! This country wanted the Great King's death! You dense fool!! Failed intelligence? How stupid...! The Pritzenkaya War Intelligence Department...!! They didn't fail to give us information—they chose not to give it!!"
Ivan gathered his thoughts while holding the gun.
The War Intelligence Department was the predecessor of the Counter-Intelligence Command... that is, the old military department that handled foreign intelligence before the Annihilation Squad was established.
They weren't particularly competent, but they couldn't be considered incompetent either....
"Do you remember why the Great King had to go to the front lines himself?"
"Because repeated defeats had shaken the royal authority...."
"Yes! Even if he couldn't become a victorious monarch, he at least needed to establish authority as a war monarch! At that time, the nobles, those pig-like characters, were ready to abandon the Great King at any moment!"
Pavel cried out with a heart that was spitting blood.
"Kirill... Kirill, that bastard...! He wanted to regain the diminished royal authority with the dignity of a king who died valiantly in battle!!"
"..."
"The Great King was murdered. By the son he cherished most! Even so, even so, do you think this country has the right to demand our loyalty? Ivan... 'Little' Ivan!! Think of your name!! Did you say you would question me about the price of betrayal?!"
Pavel staggered to his feet.
"Let me ask you. Then what is the price of the betrayal this country committed...!"
Ivan unconsciously raised his gaze.
A huge statue was looking down at him.
The statue of the former king, Ivan "the Conqueror."
"It's not too late. Ivan Petrovich. Take my hand. There are comrades who share my intentions."
Ivan slowly closed his eyes. Pavel's voice was tangling his thoughts.
Ah.
The remnants of the demon race are sprouting underground.
The royal family betrayed the nation and disappeared.
The divided kingdom's nobles each harbor ambitions, lurking beyond the city.
The member states of the United Kingdom no longer consider each other allies.
It's a world of warlords' separatism, ambitious people's schemes, a national body consumed by war, and rampant famine.
Four years have passed since the Hero killed the Demon King.
Thirty years have passed since he fell into this world.
Peace still holds no more meaning than a joke. No, perhaps never will.
A king killed by his son, and seniors who gave their lives to protect that king.
Countless conscripts who took up arms hoping only that the demon's fangs would not reach their families.
The foundation of this country, built upon their corpses, is so precarious.
"I have been a hypocrite all my life, so you too shall live as a hypocrite."
At that moment, the Great King's statue whispered to him.
In the last voice of the Great King that he remembered.
Hypocrisy, hypocrisy.
Ivan opened his eyes. He looked around.
People were fleeing. There had been a fight. People who had infiltrated from somewhere were attacking festival participants.
In the slowly flowing time, Ivan carefully surveyed his surroundings.
Festival.
Yes, this country had recovered enough to hold festivals.
The smell of roasting meat spreads through the streets more than once a week.
Every morning, smoke from baking bread rises through chimneys in the alleys of Pritzenkaya.
Such an era had come. Even though conspiracies, schemes, invasions, and terrorism lurk beneath the shadows of the city.
After the war, this country was gradually reviving. Just as the former king had wished.
Pritzenkaya was rising.
"If enough falsehoods gather, might they not eventually touch the truth?"
Even if the scenery of this city, the expression of a housewife preparing a meal, the faces of men going to work, the smiles of citizens forgetting the war, were all false.
Still, even that falsehood was exactly what the former king had wished for all his life.
Perhaps the Great King knew of his son's betrayal. He might have accepted death with a smile, believing it was for the best.
It's impossible to know.
But if there's one thing that can be certain.
As he once recalled, the Great King would have looked down upon today's Pritzenkaya with satisfaction.
Injustice and corruption can be eradicated.
What's important is that all citizens living in that city escape the threat of war and famine, forget war, and instead of just living day by day, walk toward tomorrow with smiles on their faces.
So, the truth created by gathering those hypocrisies....
"Live and continue my hypocrisy. Will you promise?"
This thought—to eradicate the malice lurking behind the shadows of this country, so that the Great King's ideal would no longer be hypocrisy.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I promise. I will certainly do so."
"That is enough."
The death of the Great King, our sacrifices, were not in vain.
That is enough.
"I'll believe your words."
"Ivan...!"
"However, I don't agree with your methods."
Ivan slowly walked over and grabbed Pavel by the collar.
"My loyalty still lies with the Great King. Pavel. Your method will only make his death meaningless."
"Kirill doesn't deserve to be king! He doesn't deserve our loyalty!"
"True. But the royal blood continues."
Ivan raised his head while holding Pavel's collar.
Far away, toward the university main building.
In the direction of Elizabeta Kirillovna Krasilov's office.