# Enhanced Translation
The moment Ivan saw the name Ethelplat Coenulf, he recalled the cold winter night on the frontline of the coniferous forest.
There's something you feel when going on a mission with foreigners.
That these guys have names that are too difficult.
It's funny. Having lived in a Chinese character cultural sphere for over 20 years, Ivan should find Krasilov's naming conventions no different from those of other foreign countries.
But humans are creatures of adaptation, aren't they? After living in this fantasy-Russian world for over a decade, foreign names now seem more difficult.
At least Krasilov is a world where nicknames are commonplace. People who know him usually call him Vanka. Even before that, the name Ivan itself isn't difficult.
But when facing foreign troops, especially nobles, his tongue seemed to stiffen every time he had to call their names.
"Lord Coenulf."
It was a deep forest. A snowy coniferous forest, a winter night with the smell of blood vibrating from all directions.
Ivan stepped forward with some tension and a measure of fear. Even though it had been over a decade since he fell into this hellish world, the frontlines he faced away from civilization were still frightening.
Still, he stepped forward. Because he was of the Royal Guard. Fear should not be his motivation.
"You've come?"
"Yes. The reconnaissance results..."
"No need to tell me. It means there are no more remaining forces in this forest. I know."
"...Pardon?"
"Elves have keen ears, Ivan. Sometimes when I listen carefully, the sounds we hear transcend the realm of the material world. The forest told me. There are no more demons."
What nonsense is this? Has he gone senile?
Ivan quietly bowed his head and grumbled. (Inwardly. Because elves have good hearing.)
"You're full of discontent?"
"You misunderstand."
"Come now. I can hear everything. You're wondering why I sent scouts out for two hours in this cold if safety was certain, right?"
"..."
Ivan painfully kept his mouth shut while deliberately rubbing his hands that were curled even under thick gloves. He feared curses might escape if he didn't.
Being a rational person, he didn't criticize a monster who could slit someone's throat more easily than breathing.
Absolutely, definitely not out of fear. It's because he is of the Royal Guard, and the Royal Guard never feels fear.
"I needed time to meditate."
"Meditate... you say?"
"Yes. The true enlightenment one faces at the end of martial arts. In the quiet night, in the forest. I needed a moment to immerse myself while facing the corpses of those I've cut down. To realize that I too could become like them someday, that I've merely been granted a momentary reprieve of life until I stand before someone stronger than me."
Definitely senile regression.
I'm freezing to death. All I can think about is returning to camp, sitting by the fire to warm up, and then roasting a nutrition bar.
Quiet? It's winter now. The winters on the northern front are harsh. Blizzards always rage like storms around here in winter. Like now.
So, this wind cutting at the ears, and the noise of snow lashing the coniferous forest, can never be the requirements for a quiet and holy night.
Ivan tensed.
'If a demented crazy elf is a master of the sword, could I really stop him?'
Being a cold-headed person, he instantly realized that would be impossible. He put his hands together and answered politely.
"Unlike a lowly person like me, elven warriors might gain enlightenment in such sudden realization, but the weather is bad. I think it would be better to return to camp and relieve your battle fatigue."
"Yes, let's do that. A night walk is also a good experience."
What a crazy elf.
Ivan, being a 21st century cultural citizen who disliked racial discrimination, did not hate elves. (Conversely, in this uncivilized world, elves belong to a despised race.)
But being human, he found it difficult to suppress the urge to curse whenever he saw such madness from elves.
Of course, he had to endure it. Unlike logic and law, in this place, power was the truth. What an uncivilized world.
Ivan emerged from his thoughts.
Does elven medicine include dementia treatment? They might, being a long-lived race. Because they would have to suffer from senility for hundreds of years. (No, it doesn't.)
Ivan looked at the list with worried eyes and thought.
Edel of Schkan.
With jet-black hair that spread softly like animal fur, and golden eyes resembling those of a predatory bird. The hero who laughed while saying she had thrown one of them to the Seven Dragon General.
In fact, when her legion was exposed to a surprise attack by the Seven Dragon General, she alone faced the Dragon General and returned alive, having lost one eye.
That's amazing. It's common sense that no one in this world would dare face them alone.
Edel is someone who actually accomplished such an extraordinary feat. Her legion succeeded in escaping with minimal losses.
Her other nicknames, such as 'Rising Knight,' 'Queen's Great Warrior,' 'Victor,' or 'Punisher' are merely secondary.
"Edel is participating."
"That's what I'm saying, senior. Wow, I'll see her after a long time too. She must still be in good shape, right?"
"It's because she's in good shape that she's doing this. Who instigated her?"
"Pardon?"
"There's no way Edel would have submitted an application form herself. Who applied on behalf of this woman?"
"Miss Grikenkos."
"Beolgreen..."
Ivan frowned.
Since Elfihera wouldn't suddenly decide to ruin this tournament, this must ultimately be Beolgreen's instigation.
Why would Beolgreen interfere in this country's internal affairs?
Is she looking for traces of Alexandr? If so, I can understand to some extent.
If they are political opponents of Elizabeta, they almost certainly belonged to Alexandr's faction.
"Has Her Highness given any other orders?"
"No."
"I see."
The last order the princess gave was 'Win overwhelmingly.' Just that one sentence.
Then it must be so.
A good agent prepares various plans for failure in an operation. Things like secondary objectives and worst-case objectives.
But the agents of the Annihilation Squad are not like that.
Not what should be achieved in case of failure to minimize losses. But rather:
If there is a threat of failure, how can success be achieved? They prepare only for that.
Everything else is secondary. Because the Annihilation Squad has no failure except death. It's not a failure until you die, and if you want to ultimately interfere with their mission, the only option is to kill them.
That's the training they received.
Ivan closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and fell into thought.
Two days remaining.
Contemplating ways to defeat Coenulf.
"I've... I've... I've completed it..."
She burned the midnight oil.
Elfihera collapsed with dark circles deeply set under her eyes.
Borrowing wisdom from her father, reverse-engineering ancient artifacts, checking each spell she had already learned one by one, and rebuilding the operational logic.
She finally completed it.
"Can you hear me? Can you hear?"
-I can hear you well. How fascinating.
Before her eyes stood a full-body plate armor with elegant lines. Amidst the many magical engineering parts chaotically spread around her, it stood tall, emitting light.
How many high-level spells had been embedded in that armor? How many magic stones had been ground up as power sources for that armor?
"It can only operate for exactly two days. Would you like to test it?"
-There's no need for that.
The armor nodded with a clattering sound. Despite having no expression, with a visor deeply pulled down, somehow Elfihera felt that the armor was smiling.
-As expected of Beolgreen's daughter, you cunning fox. Amazing. If this technology had been completed just 20 years earlier, you could have saved so many people.
"You're too kind! This can only work for a few days... It was only possible because I designed it considering only short-term battles from the start."
-Humble too. What you share with your father is only appearance and talent. You are blessed.
Among elven magical engineering technologies, there is something called 'remote communication.'
A technology commonly used among elves, and with a bit more sophisticated technique, it can even project somewhat 'blurry' afterimages.
Even from a distance. It's an advanced spell that can connect terminals even from this land to far-off Kalion.
And, if you install more magical terminals and manipulate their directionality differently, a new horizon opens.
By controlling the input and output syntax of voice, to allow only specific stimuli to be input and output.
In other words, to explain more simply.
It means you can create a golem that can be remotely controlled. At a level that allows real-time control.
Although you can only see blurry afterimages, there's a delay of a few seconds in movement, and precise operation is impossible due to the golem's inherent sluggishness, and even that can only be used for about two days.
Nevertheless, she alone had built an environment where someone in Kalion could operate in Krasilov.
-The movement... has a bit of delay.
"That was... unavoidable. I'm sorry..."
-No, this is enough. You could write a dissertation with this and immediately earn a graduate degree, so why worry about such things?
"Hehe, thank you..."
Solely by skill, counted among the 'problem solvers' in that arrogant Privy Council, a great knight who had never been defeated even once in hundreds of years.
How great was the reputation that accompanied her achievements? Her life itself could be classified as a history book and a tactical manual.
Such a being was smiling warmly at a young elf like her.
Elfihera bowed her head with a mushy expression.
Due to the excitement typical of a scholar who had achieved a significant academic feat, and the fatigue from having to work hard for several nights.
Because of that, she failed to hear the small whisper that crept into her ear.
-I wonder how much that little one has grown, I'm looking forward to it.
Ethelplat Coenulf smiled as she manipulated this unfamiliar metal body to lift a longsword.
It was the night before the tournament.
The festival began.
Brilliantly, as if to erase the chaos that had covered Pritzenkaya for the past few days.
Elizabeta generously spent from the national treasury to hold banquets, invite nobles, and feed the citizens until they were full.
And finally.
The tournament was held.