Chapter 43
Extending the enchantment, spreading seamlessly through every nerve’s corner.
Holding his breath, adjusting the magic’s sensation flowing through his veins.
Click.
Sensations unnoticed before now awaken. The rhythmic passage of time, the fingertip on the trigger pulling it, even the subtle friction as the gun’s internal spring twists, all sensed.
Right here is the battlefield of superhumans.
Bang!
Fired. Simultaneously, his eyes open.
The flames bursting from the muzzle momentarily illuminate the dark alley.
The reason for heightened senses is this: To prevent sudden light from blinding his adapted optic nerves.
Though the stimulated nerves make his eyes sting, it’s okay. It’s familiar.
The auras of three individuals are imprinted on Ivan’s retina like residual scars.
“Gun! Someone else is here!”
“Darn it, where were they hiding?!”
Leaning against the wall, Oscar is the figure. Slowly approaching from beyond the alley are two small beings—dwarves.
Confirming sparks near the dwarf’s head as the shot is fired.
Wearing standard dwarf infantry gear.
Ivan immediately adjusts the sight and charges forward.
“He’s coming! Get ready!”
The Dwarf in the lead yelled with a snap. Judging by the images still lingering on his retinas, he was armed with a two-handed axe.
Dwarf infantry standard gear covers the entire body like a golem, providing a thick and formidable armor that offers almost absolute defense against external attacks.
“Hence the sword.”
The reason he didn’t choose an axe is that it wouldn’t pierce through this armor. These folks survived even buried under the mountains during past wars.
There was a developed martial art to deal with such individuals.
Swing!
“Hah! Human! You don’t stand a chance!”
The blade scratches the surface of the plate armor, sparking. The resounding clash accompanies the rebounding sword.
Whooosh!
Detecting the direction and speed, Ivan stoops his waist. A massive axe blade passes above him, slicing through the air.
Lowering his stance, raising his left hand, and firing again.
Bang!
This time, towards another dwarf behind this one. Sparks fly from the muzzle, revealing the figure once more.
Posture, balance, weak points in the armor, the smirking expression of the defiant one, and the long ash-colored beard extending below the jaw.
Ivan held the sword straight and swiftly struck.
Clang!
“This guy!”
The dwarf’s exclamation echoed. A precise strike targeting the joints, executed with unbelievable precision in the darkness.
However, it’s not enough. The dwarf thinks so and swings the axe again.
Whoosh!
Evading again, clang. Strikes in the same spot. It’s a mechanical repetition of this process.
The weak points in the armor are the joints covered with chainmail and gambeson. While providing sufficient protection against conventional weapons, it’s not enough to withstand the supernatural sword strikes.
So, clang again!
“This technique... Were you on the battlefield ten years ago?”
“Is that all?” (Ivan)
Ivan smirked. It was because Kim Sunwoo in his inner self had screamed for twenty years.
Emotions set aside, both hands have a task.
Bang!Ñøv€l--ß1n hosted the premiere release of this chapter.
Firing again. Securing a momentary view and stepping back to avoid the approaching dwarf from behind, wielding the sword.
Clang, cutting through the chain.
The one who first devised this tactic was Lieutenant Ivan Petrovich. At that time, he was a captain.
The name of this technique is ‘Dwarf Armor Splitting.’
“This...!!”
Clang, clang!
Finally, the guy’s pauldron tore off. When the blade bounced off due to the impact, naturally letting go of the hilt, he reached for a dagger at his waist.
Taking out a short dagger from the hip holster, it took only a breath until it was jammed into the exposed shoulder of the guy.
Swoosh!
“Noooaaagh!!”
A shoulder injury is fatal for a warrior, akin to losing one arm. The movements of the guy wielding the two-handed axe noticeably slowed down.
But there are only two enemies. Finally, the approaching dwarf warrior swung his weapon.
“Stop!!”
Whoosh!
Avoiding the weapon again, he raised the left-hand pistol. This shot was aimed precisely, with controlled breathing.
Bang!
“Nooooaagh!!”
The dagger lodged in the shoulder, aiming exactly at the hilt. The dagger bounced off, disappearing into the darkness of the alley. The dwarf, with the forcibly torn shoulder, screamed and sat down in agony.
Now, he rotated his body to reposition. Putting down the pistol and pulling out the short dagger from the hip holster again.
Shring.
The sword, thrown into the void for the first time, now began its descent. Snatching the hilt precisely mid-air, Ivan swung it again.
A deep voice was heard in the distance.
“Fifth Squadron, 3rd Battalion under the command of ‘Webmaker’ Combat Unit. I’m Senior Lieutenant Asturk. In your terms, I guess I’d be something like a Commander of a Thousand.”
Upon hearing this, Isabelle thought of Icarus, the white commander. The fight with him was a matter of life and death. If his rank was equivalent to a Commander of a Thousand in the logic of power, then...
‘He’s stronger than that guy back then.’
Isabelle tightly sealed her lips. Although being a Commander of a Thousand might not make him simply ten times stronger than a Commander, the difference in strength was clear.
And he wasn’t alone. A series of groups were approaching with him.
Moreover, the visibility was extremely limited. Not just limited, it was to the extent of seeing nothing at all.
“Am I really going to die like this...?
No fear. The moment she held the sword, death was something she always anticipated.
She thought of her father. Maximilian wouldn’t have shown fear even in such a situation.
So. At least in front of the demons, she shouldn’t show fear in the face of death.
She was a knight of Tylesse. And the daughter of a warrior. Among the numerous privileges she enjoyed, she had no right to feel fear.
Only duty. Duty to be unyielding even in the face of death.
“Come. I, Isabelle of Tyless, will stand and die today!”
“Comrade. How old is that guy we are dealing with?”
“Yes, Captain! The little one is turning twenty this year!”
“Adjust the plan. Make sure to kill. Leaving a hostage is not an option.”
Anyone near the level of a Commander of a Thousand demon would remember the Hero Party. Even if they hadn’t faced them directly, Heroes were a concept that embodied ‘death’ for the demons.
Encounter them, and you die. Get close, and you die. The moment the rumor spread, if you didn’t run away, you would die.
It was truly a natural disaster. Moreover, it belonged to the category of unpredictable disasters. The movement route of the warrior party was the top-secret information of the United Kingdom, so the Hero party always ‘ambushed’ enemy territories.
No matter how many tracking teams were dispatched, none returned. They thoroughly concealed their location.
The hero party, who had reigned over the demons with terror, finally assassinated the Demon King. And the war ended. Unfortunately for the demons, there was no chance to overcome the ‘hero trauma.’
She must be killed.
It was necessary to inform comrades in the homeland that even the ‘symbol of terror’ could not escape death....
“Yeah, try to kill me. A Tyless knight will never back down.”
Isabelle wanted to run, wanted to hesitate, she was just a girl, barely past twenty.
But she couldn’t.
Considering the numerous people sacrificed in the train terror that day and the motives of those caught up in the current terror.
She had no right to despair in the face of the approaching death.
‘That’s a bit regrettable.’
The lingering regret of not having a date with the old man was definitely there. Now, thinking about it, the emotions she felt when thinking about the old man were definitely more than just goodwill.
So, it’s a shame. She could have expressed a bit more.
–
*Chuk, chuk, chuk.*
“...?”
A rhythmic sound echoed from beyond the cave.
Chuk, chuk. A short noise of rubbing tongue and front teeth.
What is this sound? Asturk squinted, pondering in the tension and silence before the battle. The sound was somehow familiar.
‘Rhythmic sound of rubbing tongue...? Human, echolocation!’
As memories resurfaced, several assumptions followed in succession.
‘There is only one group of humans proficient enough to use echolocation in battle.’
‘That group was secretly cultivated during the time of the Krasilov monarchy.’
‘And this place is Krasilov....’
Asturk was astonished, raising his weapon sharply.
If the hero party embodied the terror of death,
‘That group’ embodied the ‘Night Terror,’ which made even the dark-sighted demons fear darkness.
Assassins Enrique trained with all her might.
If the warrior party was a presence that symbolized the fear of death,
‘That group’ were beings who embodied the ‘Fear of the Night,’ which even terrified demons with dark vision.
Asturk was startled and raised his weapon tightly.
If the warrior party had embodied the terror of death,
‘That group’ embodied the ‘Fear of the Night,’ which made even the dark-sighted demons afraid. They were beings who embodied the ‘Fear of the Night’ that even terrified the demons with dark vision.
‘When,’ ‘where,’ and ‘how’ questions were meaningless for them.
Literally, at ‘any time,’ ‘anywhere,’ and ‘anyhow,’ they fulfilled their objectives and disappeared like shadows of the night.
“Cleansup Unit!! Those cursed beings are still here?! Comrades, raise your weapons! Be on guard!”
-Chuk, chuk, chuk....
The rhythmic noise echoed through the cave and abruptly stopped.
Silence descended heavily. The dwarves, who seemed ready to charge at any moment, were now constructing fortifications in their positions, hunkering down firmly.
Isabelle swallowed hard, scanning her surroundings. Although nothing was visible, she could sense that something was off about the enemies.
‘Cleansup Unit...? What’s that...?’
It was a name she had never heard before. However, it seemed famous to the demons. The calm demeanor they had just shown, as if they were on a leisurely stroll through the town, froze instantly.
And then.
-Clang.
Along with the solid sound of metal rubbing.
-Boom!
There was light.
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