The Academy Entrance Train Is Always Targeted by Terrorists (4) The leader, Hugo, stared silently at the signal beacon that had been flashing ever since.
“…Is this thing broken?” It was an expensive mana signal beacon they had reluctantly purchased as an emergency escape measure in case something went wrong at Igorevich Station.
Now it was blinking at perfectly regular intervals.
Roughly once every minute.
The emergency signal was supposed to be pressed three times in succession.
That way, even if someone pressed it by mistake, it wouldn’t send a false distress call.
Yet the beacon only flashed once every time.
It had to be malfunctioning.
“Damn it, this thing cost a fortune!” “Heh heh, Boss.
Don’t worry about it.
We’ll make all that money back anyway.” “What about the boys?” “They’re all in position.
The explosives have already been planted.
As soon as the train arrives, we blow the tracks, rush in, loot the cargo cars, and get out.
Even taking our time, it’ll all be over in fifteen minutes!” “Good.
Oh, here comes the train.
Everyone, get ready!” “Yessir!” Far in the distance, the train came roaring forward, belching steam.
It was still thirty minutes away from Igorevich Station.
On foot, the station was a little over an hour away.
Which meant that even after the train derailed, it would take at least another two hours before reinforcements could arrive.
“Blow it!!” Hugo shouted.
BOOOOM!!
The explosives buried beneath the tracks detonated all at once, making the earth quake violently.
With a deafening screech— SKREEEECH!
—The train slammed on its brakes before slowly tipping sideways off the rails.
“Move!
Sweep everything clean!!” “WOOOOOO!!
We’re rich!!” According to their information, the cargo cars were packed solid with gold bars.
Melt them down, remove the royal seal, dump them onto the black market…
Just how much money would that be?
Chuckling to himself, Hugo glanced one last time at the malfunctioning signal beacon still flashing in his pocket before stuffing it away.
He was already planning to wring the neck of the mage who had sold him the defective thing.
*** BOOOOOOOM!!
SKREEEEEECH—CRAAAASH!!
The train twisted violently as it left the tracks and overturned.
Standing atop a tree, Ivan Petrovich watched the scene from afar before shifting his gaze elsewhere.
One looks like the commander.
One looks like the second-in-command.
About three more around them.
‘Around ten headed toward the train.’ There were supposed to be around fifteen bandits in total.
The numbers matched.
Ivan leapt down from the tree and immediately drew his pistol.
Bang!
“!!!” “!!?” Voices erupted in alarm.
The bandits instantly threw themselves to the ground or dove behind nearby trees.
Including the one whose head had exploded from the very first shot…
None of the five possessed Line-of-Fire Detection.
Once someone reached a sufficiently high level of strength, projectile weapons simply stopped being effective against them.
That was precisely why there was no such thing as an Archer in the Hero’s Party.
The instant a firearm discharged, truly powerful individuals sensed the murderous intent carried within the bullet.
Covering the weapon in mana to erase that killing intent was basic training.
However, the moment a bullet or arrow left one’s hand, it could no longer be manipulated.
As a result, powerful fighters never bothered taking cover.
Instead, the moment they heard the gunshot, they charged directly toward its source to kill the shooter.
Being startled by gunfire was something reserved for the weak.
That was why the Extermination Unit carried pistols.
They revealed an opponent’s level of strength instantly.
And in small engagements, there were few better weapons for eliminating weaker enemies.
“Who the hell are you?!” The one screaming his lungs out was the commander.
He had to stay alive.
He was worth interrogating.
Which meant there was no reason whatsoever to spare the others.
Ivan stepped out from behind the tree and calmly walked toward them.
“Fire!
Fire!!” Ratatatatat!!
Bullets crisscrossed chaotically through the air.
Walking leisurely between them, Ivan calmly reloaded.
Click.
The moment he confirmed a fresh round had seated itself in the chamber— Bang!
“Guaaagh?!” One.
Click.
Another round slid into place.
Bang!
One more.
Again— Click.
Bang.
Click.
Bang.
Each trigger pull erased another line of fire.
Properly trained operatives would never expose themselves while shooting, even if they hadn’t mastered Line-of-Fire Detection.
But the moment these bandits realized Ivan was alone…
They all rushed out into the open and began spraying bullets wildly.
This was the result.
The difference in training.
The difference in experience.
The difference in talent.
Four corpses lay on the ground, each with a bullet lodged squarely between the eyes.
Only one remained.
A large man, trembling uncontrollably.
“Y-you…!!” His face twisted.
He threw away his gun and drew his sword.
Not a bad decision.
If bullets couldn’t hit the target, firearms became useless.
“Who…
who sent you?!
Huh?!
Where did some bastard like you come from—” Bang!
Clang!
The instant the sword cleared its scabbard, Ivan shot the flat of the blade.
The impact tore the weapon from the man’s grasp.
Clutching his numb wrist, he stumbled backward.
Having felt the overwhelming gap in skill firsthand, his face turned deathly pale as he began shaking violently.
“Do you have a good memory for faces?” “…Huh?” “Y-Yeah!
I memorized your face!
Just wait!
I’ll—” “Good.” “Then you’d better remember very carefully from this point onward.” Ivan had never expected this man to reveal who had masterminded the train attack.
No organization capable of orchestrating something like this would leave such an obvious trail.
So he would start with appearances.
Anything at all.
Even the smallest clue.
The way they walked.
Their mannerisms.
The clothes they had worn.
Any distinctive tattoos.
Jewelry.
Even their accent.
“If anything comes to mind…” Ivan said quietly as he drew his axe.
“…Answer.” He had no intention of killing him.
This man was probably the tutorial boss.
That role belonged to the protagonist.
Injuring him, however…
That was another matter entirely.
And Ivan knew countless ways to inflict pain without permanently damaging the functions of the human body.
9:35 A.M.
Ten minutes after the train terrorist attack began.
Train Terror Mastermind Suppression: Success!
*** “Owww…” Esidisi clutched her forehead and groaned.
She couldn’t think straight.
Her father’s retainers had reserved the entire first-class section, so there wasn’t even anyone nearby she could ask about what had happened.
Shaking her head repeatedly, she staggered to her feet.
“…Huh?” She was standing on the window.
The chair she’d been sleeping in moments ago now lay sideways beside her.
This was a train.
Train seats weren’t supposed to lie sideways.
Which meant…
Only then did she realize.
The train had overturned.
“Ugh…
it hurts…
Excuse me?
Is anybody there?” Groaning, she looked around.
She could hear running footsteps.
People shouting outside.
But there were no screams from terrified passengers trapped inside a train wreck.
Which meant…
This was…
“Bandits!!” Esidisi gasped and immediately covered her mouth.
She had heard stories about bandits attacking trains from time to time.
But incidents like that weren’t exactly common.
Besides…
What could they possibly gain from attacking this train— “…Wait!” “I’m on this train!!” Esidisi shrank into herself in horror.
Normally, that would have sounded ridiculously narcissistic.
But astonishingly…
This time, she was absolutely right.
“What do I do…?
What do I do…?!” She had stormed off after shouting that no one should follow her.
That if anyone did…
She would cut ties with them forever.
Which meant she had no attendants whatsoever.
Feeling her mind go completely blank, Esidisi hurriedly hugged her instrument case.
Fortunately…
Even after the train overturned, her violin remained perfectly intact.
“Thank goodness…” “Sniff…
I was so worried you’d be broken…” She gently opened the case and lovingly stroked the violin.
Then…
She gripped the neck tightly…
And held it upside down.
Like an iron pipe.
No— Like an axe.
People often said that a musician’s instrument was their very life.
Which meant…
At this very moment…
Esidisi had resolved to swing her own life as a weapon.
The strongest music student in history, fighting with her life on the line…
Now entered the battle to resolve the train terrorist incident!
*** Before the Kingdom of Droan was unified by Great King Einar.
Before the Demon King rose to threaten all humanity.
The land that would become Droan had endured a chaotic age in which tribal chiefs known as Jarls constantly fought one another.
Within that mad culture of slaughter— Where axes, swords, and sharp tongues (primarily used for offering warm greetings regarding one’s opponent’s parents) painted the world in rivers of blood— There existed a unique social rank.
The Huscarl.
Although Huscarls were often compared to the knightly class of other nations…
They differed in one fundamental respect.
Knights formed mutual contractual relationships with their lords.
A Huscarl acknowledged only two things: Loyalty.
And ability.
Knights received salaries and land.
A Huscarl received only loyalty.
Aside from minor spoils of war and daily meals, they neither accepted nor desired rewards.
Even if they weren’t related by blood…
They were accepted as brothers.
They lived under the same roof.
Ate at the same table.
Even slept in the same room.
(Not, however, in the same bed.) And Great King Einar had many such younger brothers.
“Huff…
Huff…!!” A middle-aged man stood panting at the edge of the forest.
Staring at the overturned train in the distance with the naked eye…
His expression twisted in fury.
“Which rotten bastards dared lay a hand on my nieceeeee?!” His beloved niece— The niece he cherished more than anything— Was on that train!
With a savage roar, he resumed sprinting.
*** “If I catch anyone following me with my own eyes, I’m cutting ties with them forever!” When Esidisi had said that to Great King Einar…
Being the great warrior of Droan that he was…
Einar immediately solved the riddle.
“Aha.
So as long as she doesn’t see us, it’s fine.” Everyone Einar trusted adored Esidisi like their own niece.
No amount of disguise would keep them from being recognized if they boarded the same train.
Sending someone on the next train wasn’t acceptable either.
The thought of letting her travel alone across the border worried him too much.
So…
As expected of the greatest warrior in Droan…
Great King Einar arrived at the perfect solution.
“Aha.
Then we’ll just follow the train.” Thus, Great King Einar gathered all of his younger brothers together and asked solemnly, “Raise your hand if you want to protect our Esi.” “BIG BROTHER!!
SEND ME!!” “Raise your hand if you’re a true warrior who can keep up with a train using only your own two legs.” “I’m here, Big Brother!!” The great Huscarls of Droan all shot their hands into the air while roaring enthusiastically.
Huge men in their forties, built entirely of muscle, opened their mouths like hungry baby birds begging to be fed.
Watching the bizarre spectacle with satisfaction, Great King Einar nodded gravely.
“Now then.” “Raise your hand only if you can get into St.
Jansk University.” “…!!” The entrance examination for St.
Jansk University was notoriously difficult.
Even if they were confident they could pass the practical exam or interview…
They knew the written examination was hopeless.
One after another, the Huscarls lowered their hands.
(They weren’t embarrassed.
Knowledge was not considered one of a warrior’s virtues.) Only one man kept his hand raised.
“From this moment onward…” “You’re a freshman in the Department of Physical Education.” “Yes, Big Brother!
I’ll protect Esi with my life!” “Good.” “Go, my brother.” “Yes, Big Brother!!” That had happened two months earlier.
During the November entrance examinations, this man secretly infiltrated Krasilof.
Against all expectations…
He actually passed the written exam.
Then proceeded to set a new all-time record in the physical test after barely scraping past the minimum academic score.
Sadly…
St.
Jansk University had no upper age limit for admission.
And now…
On a day in January…
A man who had run after the train for two straight days without resting or sleeping finally came to a halt, gasping for breath.
Spotting the overturned train from two kilometers away with the naked eye…
He charged straight toward it— Smashing every tree that stood in his direct path.
The strongest physical education student in history…
Now charged into the train terrorist incident to save the strongest music student in history!