The nighttime search was going smoothly. Ivan smiled faintly as Line of Fire Detection flickered incessantly at the edge of his senses.
It was a technique of briefly aiming a gun at someone, testing the waters while making the distance and direction difficult to pinpoint. A trap for facing—and luring in—a superhuman.
Rather sophisticated work for Thilles's agents. Uncharacteristically so.
Ivan kept walking as though he had noticed nothing, making certain he looked like a man searching for traces of a dragon.
The more capable the enemy proved, the more his spirits rose. A capable agent invariably possessed more information than an incompetent one.
Then Eugene quietly approached his side and whispered.
“Boss, right now...”
“I know.”
Was the Status window's detection range about a kilometer? Not bad. It could serve as short-range radar. Ivan nodded and continued.
“Don't look that way. Seven hundred meters, nine o'clock. Correct?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Pretend you haven't noticed until they come within five hundred meters.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Ivan rested a hand on his axe handle and walked on unconcernedly. At the front, like a leader.
A sharp tingle. The warnings from Line of Fire Detection grew more blatant. As though whispering: Still not coming? Still not getting out of the way?
No superhuman could resist that temptation. Using a gun was, after all, a mark of weakness. And superhumans were the sort to hunt down a shooter the instant a gun pointed their way.
That was how superhuman combat doctrine was passed down. Their engagement greatly improved ordinary people's chances of survival. In other words, even if only to protect ordinary people who lacked Line of Fire Detection, superhumans would throw themselves in front of a gun.
Techniques that exploited that doctrine were, yes, ten years old. Very modern by Thilles's standards, perhaps, but considered antiquated in Krasilof.
So let me teach you how to face a superhuman. A trained agent who has reached the realm of superhumans, no less.
Walking slowly, Ivan suddenly stopped.
“Five hundred meters?”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Someone's short on patience. Follow at your own pace.”
Ivan nodded, his expression dry. The next instant, he vanished.
“?!”
A foot struck the ground, and Eugene hurriedly turned to track Ivan's figure. In two strides, he had already raced beyond the bushes.
BANG!!
Gunfire rang out. Frantic shots.
BANG! BANG!
“Wh-what's going on? All of a sudden?!”
“Who is that mister fighting now?!”
While the others, who had come out for an ordinary dragon hunt, floundered in confusion, Eugene grumbled in dismay.
“The level gap is way too big.”
* * *
He kicks off a tree. Straight ahead, hard.
Two lines of fire converge on him that instant. Not bad reactions.
Ivan twisted at the waist in midair, shifting his trajectory. The two bullets missed by a hair, brushing past his hair.
A sharp twang, like a snapping string, rang pleasantly in his ears. He kicked off the ground again, twisting up into a tree.
CLANG!
He deflected the next bullet with his axe blade and launched himself forward. There were no more shots. In the fleeting gap between taking aim and pulling the trigger, Ivan had already landed before the two men.
“What—!”
SLICE!
The man who had opened his mouth in horror crumpled. His cleanly severed upper body twisted and tumbled across the ground. Blood, its course cut short, sprayed in a fan over the man beside him.
Terrified, the other man raised his gun and aimed at Ivan.
SLICE!
The axe caught the barrel and sliced it off. A fine steel military pistol, manufactured in a Thilles munitions factory. Brand-new, with even the factory oil still on it. Ivan glanced at the severed barrel spinning through the air as it fell.
His gaze continued downward.
The forest slept in darkness. Moonlight caught and scattered on autumn's dry branches. In the dim little clearing, without a single torch, the blood-soaked man backed away, trembling.
Ivan stepped toward him, casting a long shadow. A pair of vivid blue eyes shone deep within the darkness.
“You're not... one of Etakrich's men... You...”
“Shh.”
Ivan spun his axe and adjusted his grip. He drew a breath and listened to the wind.
With his hearing enhanced, he could hear even the footsteps of rodents passing nearby.
With his sense of smell enhanced, he could scent animals throughout the mountain on the wind flowing along its slopes.
So the “trap for a superhuman” prepared at this distance was not, in fact, suitable for one. All these agents had one tenuous foot in the realm of superhumans, but this was not enough.
Superhumans of this caliber had been a dime a dozen on the battlefield. Those who had fought through all those battlefields and survived were the Hero's Party of today.
They had meant to kill Gilles Vert with just this?
With a touch of displeasure and a touch of disgust, Ivan adjusted his grip on the axe.
“I-I...!”
“Shh.”
Clicking his tongue once more, Ivan flicked his hand. The axe vanished beyond the opposite bushes without a trace.
A wet splatter, like spilling water, came from beyond the bushes, followed by a scream. Ivan spoke without even glancing that way.
“One mouth is enough to answer questions.”
“You... monster...!”
“Monster?”
Expressionless, Ivan took out a dagger and a potion. He strode over, set a foot on the man's chest, and asked,
“If you call someone like me a monster, just how did you intend to kill Gilles Vert?”
“Wh-wh-what are you talking about? We were only...”
“Enough.”
Ivan pressed harder on his chest. A choking groan came from beneath his foot as the man's breath was squeezed out.
“When I speak, you listen.”
“Ghh...!”
“When I ask, you answer.”
“Hh...!”
“Choose your answers carefully. We have much to discuss, and I intend to ask the same questions many times. More than enough times. If your answers are wrong, or I dislike them, you will not be allowed to die.”
The man burst into sporadic laughter at Ivan's words. He looked straight up at him and spoke.
“Krasilof...! A ghost of the past!”
“That wasn't what I asked.”
SLICE!
The dagger blurred, and blood spurted from around the man's shoulder. He gave a series of strangled groans, then clenched his teeth.
“So the so-called Lord Protector has finally sold the country to foreigners! Their Excellencies were right. This country is rotten—”
SLICE!
“You won't get your way, you stupid northerner!!”
His face resolute, the man circulated his mana. A mage, was he? Ivan clicked his tongue and lifted his foot. It appeared to be not an offensive spell but a kind of binding imposed upon himself.
As the mana burrowed through his body, the man quivered, his eyes rolling back as he collapsed. Foam spilled from his mouth with a choking groan.
He'd forcibly stopped his heart. Killed himself by cutting off his circulation.
Ivan's hand moved like lightning, plunging into the man's chest. His rigid fingers sank in, and mana surged violently through them to seize the man's heart.
He had never tried this on another person's body. But hearts were generally shaped alike. His mana bound the muscles of the man's ventricles and began pulsing, beat by beat.
Color returned to the man's blanched face. With choking gasps, his body slowly began to tremble.
“H-how... how...?”
“I told you that you couldn't die.”
Without removing his hand from the man's chest, Ivan turned his head slightly.
“Eugene.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Send the children to Gilles Vert. He'll be the safest place on this mountain. You stay.”
“What? Oh, yes. Why do I...”
“Because you need to learn, too.”
The Hero's Party did not need to learn such brutal, unpleasant work. It was too dirty and “uninteresting” for a hero.
But someone had to do it. And Ivan could not do it for them every time. In his absence, one member of the Hero's Party would have to.
There was Lucia, admittedly, but, well. At least in this respect, Eugene and his Status window were more useful. Lucia's specialties were the same as Enrique's: assassination and infiltration.
Scouting and interrogation had been Ivan's roles. That was how it had been back then. So in this era, the present Hero's Party needed someone to fill his place.
Eugene looked into Ivan's eyes, swallowed once, and quietly nodded.
* * *
“Boss... this...”
Eugene went pale. He poured healing into the man, now reduced to a ragged wreck, then shook his head. The injuries had already passed the threshold that priestly healing and healing potions could treat.
Drenched in blood, Ivan slowly rose.
A thick metallic reek hung in the air. Beneath the forest's shade, he closed his eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. Only now could he be certain. The scattered information fit together like puzzle pieces, forming a picture. The picture of Thilles's downfall.
“Eugene.”
“Yes, Boss.”
“Every nation in this world has a switch for its own destruction built into it.”
“What...?”
“Listen.”
Ivan continued with his eyes closed.
“The previous Hero's Party was too capable. They didn't merely save the alliance from destruction. They almost completely eradicated the demon threat. Yet this world still produced another generation of the Hero's Party.”
“... Yes.”
“Because a threat exists that warrants it. Even if the Demon King returned, the United Kingdoms as they stand could prevail. The previous Hero's Party is still active, and the demons suffered greater losses than the United Kingdoms.”
“... Yes, Boss.”
“Then how will a threat great enough to require a hero arise? It's simple when you think about it. We've already experienced it, too.”
Ivan opened his eyes. Looking at Eugene, he continued.
“Every nation in this world has a switch for its own destruction built into it, each for its own reasons. Like Krasilof's. In the form of civil war. In the form of demons. That would be why it needed Possessors as well as a new Hero's Party. If the Lord truly exists, that must be his intent.”
Eugene clenched his teeth and shook his head.
“Boss, this isn't the time for that. We need to warn the Duke of Etakrich right—”
“Too late.”
FWEEEE!! BANG!!
A signal flare burst beyond the forest. The flare they were to launch upon finding the dragon.
The dark night sky turned red. Almost simultaneously, a pillar of fire surged upward. Dragon's breath. The kind that melted castle walls and steel.
Had he let his guard down? Impossible. He had made every preparation he could. He had even been confident. If anything had been missing, it was one thing: information. That alone.
But ultimately, those were all excuses. In the end, he had failed to prevent the civil war.
“There is no more time to explain after this. As soon as we get back to Gilles Vert, you must gather the others and return to Saint Matilene.”
“Boss...”
“The Capital Defense Force here is half its total strength. There are just as many troops still in the capital. Hold out there with the others. Don't forget what I've told you. Take it to heart.”
FWEEEE!
BANG!
FWEEEE!! BANG!!
Like firecrackers at a festival. Like a fireworks display, signal flares burst all across the night sky.
Flares signaling a dragon sighting, in every direction. Every flare carried by every detachment went off all around them, like falling dominoes.
Fire bloomed brilliantly across the entire Bernina Mountains.
The sky seemed to burn. Bright as day, yet lit by the flares' ominous red glow.
The shadows dwindled, pressed flat. Beneath the myriad lights in the sky, the mountains' shadows crouched low.
Ivan sighed and closed his eyes.
“Gilles Vert... I'll try to save him.”
There was more than one dragon.
The dragon's arrival had been no mere bait. It was a trap in itself, and at the same time, the main force of the great counts and the demons.
Thilles would lose its northeast. The Eastern Front, now cut off from the center, would have to face the demon army alone, without supplies.
The great counts now needed only to face the remaining half of the capital's corps. If the capital fell, if the royal family collapsed, Thilles was finished.
Ivan held a complete military map of Thilles in his mind. If his prediction was correct, the country had less than a fortnight left to live.
At that moment, every map was stained red, like the flare-filled night sky over the Bernina Mountains.
* * *
[Quest Status Updated!]
[Objective: Prevent civil war among Thilles's three great comital houses. (Failed)]
[Available Objectives]
[Objective: Win the defense of Saint Matilene. (New)]
[Objective: Keep the total number of destroyed domains at 15 or fewer. (2/15)]
[Objective: Survival of Gilles Vert de Etakrich.]
[Objective: Encounter Maximilien de Etoile.]
[Objective: Continued existence of Thilles's royal house.]
[Reward: Extend the continued existence of the United Kingdoms by 10 years.]
