30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue - 30 Years Have Passed Since the Prologue chapter 38

38 – 9. In Academy field studies, an ambush always occurs. (2)

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The tactical response training of the extinction strike unit encompasses various educational curricula.

For instance, ways to respond to life signals.

Or the optimal response after successfully detecting the enemy’s flank.

Understanding the terrain, analyzing the enemy’s numbers and armaments. Various field teachings linger within numerous drills.

However, Ivan had prepared only one education for Isabelle. The simplest and most fundamental one.

[Keep ambushing until you respond]

Hence, Ivan now sat atop a tree, quietly raising the barrel of his gun.

Isabelle’s figure was visible beyond the sight gauge. Still, she seemed unabashed, showing no intention of concealing herself.

– Click.

Adjusting the sightline and just before pulling the trigger, he misses the firing point.

– Bang!

The problem if the sensor detection had just bloomed was not trusting his senses completely yet.

After all, sensor detection is akin to intuition. If swayed by sight and sound, one cannot respond adequately.

“Ahh!”

“…Wrong.”

Ivan sighed as he looked at Isabelle, who screamed in the distance and hastily lowered her head.

Despite the clear miss, Isabelle attempted to dodge, causing her balance to shift and exposing a gap.

*Clack, Thud—!!*

Seizing the opportunity, this time aiming for her forehead, Ivan fired.

Successfully avoiding by a hair, Isabelle trembled, staring at the bullet marks on the tree.

“Bullets! Aim for the head! Seriously?!”

Soon, she opened her eyes. The blazing azure precisely targeted the spot where Ivan was hiding.

“Getting better little by little.”

Like a sensible training instructor, Ivan nodded with a sense of satisfaction.

He quickly left the hiding spot.

*

“hahahaha, Ahahahaha. I’m really going to kill you.”

Isabelle, gripping the knife tightly, walked shakily.

Bullet to the forehead…?

“I must be crazy. I’m a fool. I was wrong, yeah. It’s my fault.”

Excitement at the prospect of training in the forest where ‘that incident’ occurred?

Even though he suddenly asked for help, willingly putting aside everything and offering assistance, was it because it felt good?

Yeah, it’s all my fault.

Swinging the knife a few times lightly, laughing happily, receiving some feedback…

Talking about what happened that day as if it were just memories.

Preparing sandwiches to share, putting on my favorite clothes, and even attempting makeup, which I rarely did well even in the palace.

Yeah.

I’m a complete idiot.

*Clack.*

Gripping the knife handle tightly, taking one more step forward.

*Swoosh.*

Drawing the sword while lifting it, the blade shining fiercely, silently. But gripping it firmly.

*Thud—!*

-Snap!

The bullet deflected accurately, cutting through the trajectory.

“Really… really… you’re dead! You!!”

The noble anger flared with righteousness. She deftly swatted away the flying bullets, charging straight along the trajectory.

There had to be a sniper in the direction of the bullet, of course.

As long as she didn’t get hit, it was all good, just once, really. Just one solid hit.

That’s what she thought.

*

She must have been thinking that.

Ivan withdrew quietly, staring straight at the charging Isabelle.

Finding a perfectly concealed agent in the shadows of the forest was a pastime. Even if there were line-of-sight sensors, it wouldn’t change anything.

Since there was a sniper at the end of the trajectory, the sniper must be well aware of that fact.

“Time for the second lesson.”

Ivan, being an excellent instructor, was ready to impart thoughtful teachings.

Swinging a sword wildly in a fit of rage and rushing in recklessly, although the momentum was impressive, was never a good choice. Especially when deciding in an ‘ambush’ scenario, it was the worst.

-Kwaaah!!

Ivan chuckled as he watched Isabelle step on a tripwire and get engulfed in an explosion.

*

“All right.”

Isabelle narrowly avoided the explosion, brushing off the dirt that rained down on her head, laughing.

“Let’s really kill him.”

Just one solid hit? Such a half-baked idea had only created this situation.

Dealing with that lunatic required giving it your all, she realized once again. Isabelle deflected the flying bullets without even looking at them.

“Do you understand now why the forest is more challenging?”

A very calm voice reached her ears.

A firm grip tightened around the hilt of the knife.

“Underground passages or tunnels follow a linear maze pattern. Artificial structures have their distinct patterns. It means the points for setting traps or launching ambushes are predetermined.”

The instruction continued. Naturally, these were valuable pieces of advice that would be of great help to her.

“But the forest has multiple characteristics simultaneously. Concealment and cover are easy, and it’s challenging to detect traps in advance. Because it has the form of a non-linear maze, guiding the target’s movement path is also easy.”

The art of surrounding the few with the many is like this.

Contrary to the misconceptions of many, encirclement is an act of restricting information on a tactical level. In reality, there is no need for a dense encirclement or intense assault.

A few well-timed confrontations are sufficient. Forcing misinformation onto the opponent while maintaining an information advantage is the essence of encirclement.

– Beyond that forest, countless enemies are hiding.

– If you approach that forest, you will be entangled in an assault.

– There are no allies beyond that forest.

With such misinformation accumulating, the encircling net by the minority is completed at the moment when the misdirection undermines the command of the field commander.

Ivan continued speaking quietly and suddenly stopped.

Isabel, with her head lowered, was trembling.

“Sir.”

“Yes?”

“Whew… thank you. Thanks to you, my mind has cleared.”

“…Hm?”

Isabel looked at a spot where he might be with a lively smile.

Considering the direction of the sound and the detected direction of the line of sight, it must be this way.

Nodding, she raised the hilt of the sword.

– Raise the sword.

– For the sake of your principles, not your strength, raise the sword.

– Look at those like us with the eyes of the weak.

“Yes, I will do so.”

Isabel, as if possessed, gripped the sword and assumed a stance. A bright blue magic swirled around her body, illuminating the dark forest.

A brisk wind raced through the late spring forest.

“Don’t move!”

From Noble mtl dot com

“Oh.”

Ivan looked at her with shining eyes. The structure and circulation method of magic were different, but somehow reminiscent of Maximilian.

He might have had a talent for teaching more than expected. (The ability of an educator is determined by the student’s achievements.)

Ivan nodded willingly and lowered the gun.

Isabel’s senses had already fully evolved. At this level, the tactic of dual firing to deceive line-of-sight detection would no longer work.

Pushing the reaction speed of the entire body to the limit by accelerating the nerves with magic—a state of sharpening to the extreme. The so-called ‘battlefield of superhumans.’ They had reached the point of stepping on that boundary.

For those who reached this point, projectile weapons no longer worked. This was because line-of-sight detection had developed almost to the level of precognition.

So.

-Swirl…

He raised the axe.

*

“Really… will… give…”

The train heading back to Frencaya. Ivan smiled as he looked down at the sleeping Isabelle.

Despite the dust and small wounds, and the tattered clothes that made her look pitiful, she appeared noble. The golden hair spread out like a field under the moonlight as she sat down outside the window.

Saaek, sapp. With a faint breath, Isabelle, sleeping with her head on his shoulder, seemed like a little child of my age.

“Maximilian.”

Every time the train rocked along the tracks, Ivan gently secured Isabelle’s swaying head and whispered.

“You have a wonderful daughter.”

*

-You have a wonderful daughter.

Isabelle tightly clenched the hand that had slipped into her sleeve and forcefully pressed her lips that were unconsciously about to part.

She delicately touched his cheek, so as not to leave a mark on these broad shoulders.

Rock, rock. The train ran along the tracks.

The warm air inside the car flowed gently. Through half-closed eyes, the dim interior was faintly visible.

Moonlight poured through the window. The forest where they had trained today spread far away.

A romantic and ignorant fool, a lunatic who covered his face with a beard despite having a face worth looking at.

But still, still. It’s bearable. Well, after all, isn’t he the one who saved my life? Just that much. It’s not some premature affection, just that much.

Teach him common sense, trim the beard someday, that’s all.

Yes. Okay.

It feels like creating a person. If not me, who would take care of this pitiful human being? This is, well… the ‘service’ spirit of a knight. That’s what it is.

*

Under the command of the 5th General, 3rd Battalion, 12th Company, 7th Engineer Platoon, there exists a prestigious unit with a brilliant history and tradition.

They swung whips to encourage slaves and quietly raised binoculars.

“Why on earth did we fight?”

“It must have been a difference of opinion, comrade!”

“When comrades have a difference of opinion, do they set off explosives and shoot bullets?”

“No, comrade!”

Due to a sudden visit from an unknown target and the subsequent battle, three ambush points collapsed to the ground. Ah, when the great Commander of the 5th Legion was alive, there were no such shoddy constructions! The platoon leader was disappointed.

In most cases when xCommanders are disappointed, they tend to look for the problem within the battalion.

And in most cases, that attempt always yields the appropriate effect. The beautiful culture that is evenly spread across all armies worldwide, known as ‘comradely love,’ is to blame for even reaching the demons and even the dwarves.

“The Shadowblade’s playtime is just a week away, comrades. Rebuild the fallen base and prepare fully!”

“Yes, comrade!”

A dwarf with an ashy beard raised his hand in salute and marched away with determination.

Dwarves are masters of construction. Civil engineering includes tunnel excavation, and according to the three-part logic, the following proposition is true.

Where there is land, dwarves can hide.

That’s why the elves call them rodent offspring.

At the point when Enrique’s test was a week away, Freichanka was still peaceful.

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