Chapter 44
An Academy Field Trip Is Guaranteed to Be Attacked (8)
Dwarves possessed darkvision.
Considering they were a race that lived shut away underground, there was nothing strange about that.
It did not mean they could see through darkness as clearly as broad daylight, but they could still perceive objects with relative clarity in the dark.
Therefore, Astuk could see the man approaching.
“...A large dwarf?”
Astuk fell into confusion!
“Isabel.”
“M-Mister?! How did you get here...?!”
“Are you hurt?”
Ivan walked over and stopped beside Isabel.
After clicking his tongue once, he placed a hand on her shoulder.
“Yes! Yes, I’m... I’m fine!”
“That’s good. Then stay right here and don’t move.”
Protecting important persons was part of the Annihilation Unit’s basic training, but even that could not guarantee absolute safety in the darkness.
Before entering an intense battle, it was important to keep track of the person under one’s protection at all times.
Of course, Ivan was an extremely efficient man, so he did not consider how his words might sound.
“I’ve seen this before... This is the kind of thing that happens all the time in romance novels!”
Isabel’s eyes spun.
The tension abruptly drained from her, and she let out a sigh.
Her legs began to tremble.
The fear arrived belatedly.
Perhaps it was merely the suspension bridge effect, but when a man appeared before her at the brink of death, she could not help but rely on him.
And then there were those words:
Stay right there.
Like a knight from an old tale telling a maiden to wait until he returned after slaying an ancient dragon.
This is basically a confession. Honestly, how troublesome... I suppose it can’t be helped. Accepting immediately would be a little too easy, so... yes. I’ll ask whether he’s free this weekend first. As a reward.
Isabel fell into confusion!
A pistol in his left hand.
A longsword in his right.
Five daggers at his waist and an axe slung diagonally across his back.
After quickly checking his equipment, Ivan slowly stepped forward.
They’re frightened.
Ivan drew in a low breath.
Living creatures shared several common signs.
Hormonal mechanisms were one of them.
Physical reinforcement through mana and the extreme increase in the efficiency of neural transmission produced a variety of chain reactions.
Among them was the amplification of each sensory organ.
The sense of smell was one example.
It became possible to detect even the faintest scents suspended in the air.
Therefore, one could also perceive the volatile body odor produced as secreted sweat evaporated.
In the realm of superhumans, this was an extremely important indicator.
It allowed one to read an opponent’s emotions.
This primitive premodern society did not yet possess the word hormone, but the human body functioned according to the same principles regardless.
Body odor changed subtly according to emotion.
It became a physical indicator revealing feelings such as killing intent, fear, or affection.
Cortisol was secreted when living creatures felt fear.
Its distinctive scent was seeping thickly from among the dwarves.
“Are you afraid?”
“Bullshit!”
Astuk ground his teeth.
The man was alone.
War was ultimately a contest of morale, so allowing oneself to be overwhelmed in spirit made it difficult for a battle to even begin.
Instinctively, Astuk had already classified his confrontation with Ivan as a war.
Trying desperately to ignore that fact, he raised his weapon.
“Annihilation Unit. You accursed monsters... I’ll kill you and honor the spirits of the comrades who went before me!”
“That’s what they all said.”
Astuk needed a moment to understand those words.
That’s what they all said?
A sudden chill ran down his spine.
It was a calm confession that Ivan had heard those words many times before—and killed every person who had spoken them.
Astuk raised his axe with a grave expression.
Following his movement, every dwarf in the formation raised their weapons at once.
Clank. Clank.
The heavy sound of metal grinding against metal echoed through the tunnel.
How nostalgic.
Memories of facing dwarven formations in tunnels on past battlefields.
It had been during the Mine War.
Ivan raised his sword and thought back.
A narrow indoor passage with severely restricted visibility.
Dwarves filling the entire corridor.
A dreadful defensive formation impervious to axes and bullets.
Back then, he had not been alone.
Other members of his unit had always stood beside him to support him.
Now, they were gone.
Ivan adjusted his grip on his sword amid a deep sense of loss.
However, these enemies were not the army he had faced back then.
There were only around thirty of them.
Even with a generous estimate, this was a small infantry unit numbering no more than fifty.
And he was no longer Captain Ivan Petrovich of those days.
Ten years had passed since the Mine War.
Ivan had accumulated ten years of additional experience.
Bang—!!
He opened with a gunshot.
Its purpose was both intimidation and securing his vision.
Within the slowed perception of time, where space itself seemed to tilt and split into fragments, Ivan charged.
A stationary dwarven formation was like a tortoise.
Sturdy, stubborn, and slow.
Therefore, the tactical focus had to be placed on speed.
“He’s coming!!”
A frightened voice echoed through the tunnel.
It was a familiar sound.
Dwarves generally served as rear-infiltration units in the demon armies, and such operations created the ideal environment for the Annihilation Unit.
That was why the Annihilation Unit had always been named as the individual unit that killed the greatest number of dwarves during the war.
Clang!
His greeting was a sword strike.
The downward slash was a feint.
Before the dwarf at the very front could even react, Ivan lightly struck his pauldron.
The dwarf immediately thrust his weapon forward.
Ivan twisted aside, evading it solely by listening to the sound of the weapon cutting through the air.
He closed his eyes and counted the seconds.
Ivan was keeping exact track of his steps.
Each stride was eighty-six centimeters.
Isabel stood five steps behind him.
It would take seven steps to reach the leader of the formation.
The formation was thirteen steps wide.
The range in which he could operate was seventeen steps.
Clang!!
In an instant, Ivan slipped through the barrage of weapons raining down upon him and struck once.
Clang. Screech!
The sound of his longsword driving beneath the elbow of the foremost dwarf.
Clank. Clank.
The grinding of heavy armor as the dwarves' movements meshed together.
Behind his closed eyelids, the images of the enemies imprinted on his retinas by the muzzle flash shifted and distorted.
He analyzed every surrounding sound one by one, constantly updating their positions and stances in real time.
“You monster!!”
The cry came the moment he peeled one dwarf's armor apart and severed its arm.
A monster?
Ridiculous.
Ivan knew what real monsters looked like.
Crunch!
Ignoring the agonized scream of the dwarf whose arm had been cut off, Ivan spun and moved two and a half steps to the side.
He drove a dagger beneath the gap at the nape of another dwarf's neck—the one who had just raised its axe overhead to strike.
Then he shifted another step and a half to the right.
Clang!
The next dwarf lunged with a war hammer.
Letting the heavy whistle of the weapon pass beside his head, Ivan lowered his stance and thrust with his longsword.
Crack.
The already chipped blade finally snapped.
He had expected it.
From the very beginning of the battle, he had been able to feel the edge wearing away through his fingertips.
So he did not panic.
This level of durability was something Ivan was thoroughly accustomed to.
“He dropped his weapon!!”
No.
He had let it go.
Ivan lowered his head and took two steps sideways.
An axe lay precisely at his feet.
It was the weapon dropped by the dwarf whose arm he had severed first.
The instant he picked it up, he twisted his waist to evade the next attack and raised his left hand.
Aim.
Steady his breathing.
Fire.
Bang—!!
“GAAAAAH!!”
The broken longsword remained lodged in the gap of one dwarf's armor.
A perfect pinpoint shot.
Like striking a nail with a hammer, the bullet drove the broken blade deep into the dwarf's chest.
Ivan threw the pistol into the air and sprinted forward.
He caught the discarded war hammer in his left hand and spun.
One arm high.
The other extended to the side.
Then both weapons descended in a crossing strike.
BOOM!!
The fallen axe buried itself in one dwarf's helmet.
At that exact moment, the hammer swung without the slightest deviation and smashed into the dwarf's head.
The strength drained from its body as it staggered and collapsed.
Ivan discarded the hammer and caught the pistol falling through the air.
Without aiming, he fired straight ahead.
At the commander standing five steps away.
Bang—!!
This time, he opened his eyes.
The entire battlefield entered his vision in a single glance.
As the muzzle flash faded, he closed them again and reconstructed the altered formation in his mind.
The sounds of battle.
The enemies' scent.
Their positions engraved upon his retinas.
The feel of wind brushing both cheeks.
The battlefield of superhumans, between one breath and the next.
How nostalgic.
Ivan reflected once more as he charged forward.
The human body was fragile.
Even a dagger barely three inches long could render it helpless.
Close-quarters combat was always a crossroads between life and death.
Standing at the very center of enemy lines.
In an undeniably disadvantageous situation.
He had forgotten this sensation of charging toward the heart of the enemy.
Since the final battle, four years had passed without anything worthy of being called combat.
That was why, on this familiar battlefield, Ivan even felt a strange sense of nostalgia.
Ivan was an extraordinarily objective man.
He believed there was something fundamentally broken within himself.
It became even more apparent during ordinary life.
Among people laughing and chatting together, he often felt isolated.
But here...
At this moment, where lives flickered between existence and extinction...
Here, he could become someone who was needed.
He was still living in war.
Even as he hated the battlefield.
Even as he longed for an ordinary life.
Even as he yearned for home.
Sensing the familiar scent of comrades he missed, Ivan counted his steps.
One more step.
Eighty-six centimeters ahead...
...was the enemy's head.
***
What was one supposed to feel upon seeing a madman calmly smiling while butchering his comrades?
With every breath he took, another dwarf fell.
“Stop him!”
“Kill him!”
“No!”
“My arm!”
“Aaaagh!”
The screams never lasted longer than a syllable.
Only dying cries echoed across the battlefield.
Without speaking a single word, the madman of the Annihilation Unit silently continued his work.
Fragments of shattered armor flew overhead.
Severed limbs and sprays of blood scattered through the air.
He was a storm.
A disaster against which no individual could possibly resist.
He swept through them, weapon in hand, running relentlessly.
Finally...
Even when he stood directly before Astuk...
His breathing had not changed from the moment the battle began.
“I... I am Senior Captain Astuk... Third Battalion under the direct command of the Fifth Brave General... attached to the Well Maker Engineering Corps... What... is your name...?!”
“Ivan Petrovich.”
“...Ha...”
Astuk slowly nodded.
They had said he was dead.
So that was it.
He had been alive.
That alone explained why he had appeared in this forest at the exact worst possible moment.
“That beard...
Did you grow it to imitate us?”
“...?”
For the first time, Ivan's expression twisted.
Ivan was an exceptionally cold and rational man.
But he would never tolerate anyone insulting the late king.
Rather than answering, he swung the axe taken from an unnamed soldier.
Slash!
“You may move now.”
“I think my legs have gone weak.”
Hearing Ivan's steady footsteps approaching, Isabel smiled.
Even from the sounds alone, she could tell how fierce the battle had been.
Merely standing quietly behind him, she had felt the intensity of the fighting washing over her.
Honestly...
It had been overwhelming.
Stretching out both arms, she said,
“Carry me.”
If her legs had given out, carrying her would be more efficient than waiting for her to recover.
Ivan was an efficient man.
Without a word, he turned his back toward her.
Soon, warm hands wrapped around the back of his neck.
“Were you hurt?”
“No.”
“You worked hard.”
“Yes.”
“Not today, then... but would you let me buy you dinner tomorrow evening?”
Ivan was currently an undercover operative of the Counterintelligence Command.
He was a man of integrity.
He would never improperly accept money or gifts from the person he was assigned to protect.
“No.”
“Eh?!”