The Academy Entrance Train Is Always Targeted by Terrorists (5) “Urgh…
ngh…
ghk…” “You’ll be fine.
You won’t die.” “Just…
kill me…” “Don’t say that.” Ivan whispered gently as he poured Healing Potion over Hugo’s body.
Each time the cold, viscous liquid touched his wounds, Hugo’s body trembled violently and muffled screams escaped his lips.
Ivan understood exactly how the man felt.
One of the things frontline soldiers hated most was Healing Potion.
(Among veterans, it ranked somewhere after army rations, senior soldiers, commanding officers, generals, and the enemy itself.
That alone spoke volumes about its reputation.) Ivan himself had once been force-fed the potion after nearly having an arm torn off.
“Just cut the damn arm off instead!
AAAAAAGH!!” “Please don’t say that, Sir Petrovich.
Your body is a treasure of our nation!” “WHO TREATS A TREASURE LIKE THIS?!!” That had been back when he was still young and inexperienced.
After that horrifying experience, Ivan did everything he could to avoid suffering serious injuries.
Healing Potion caused pain on exactly the same level as one particularly cursed substance from Kim Seonwoo’s memories.
The name of that accursed confession drug?
Albo-7.
Thanks to that, Ivan had discovered an entirely new use for Healing Potion during his service in the Extermination Unit.
Pouring Healing Potion onto a wound hurt about as much as rubbing salt into severe burns.
But it always healed the injury.
Which meant that even if wounds were inflicted during an interrogation, they could simply be healed before continuing.
It was, in other words…
A sustainable interrogation technique.
His fellow agents in the Extermination Unit had been horrified by the idea.
(Unfortunately for prisoners, this world had no Geneva Convention.
Human rights simply didn’t apply to captives.) “P-Please…
I-I really…
don’t know…
anything else…!
I swear…!
So…
please stop…” “Less useful than I expected.” “Spare…
no…
just kill me…” “No.” “You need to stay alive.” You’re the tutorial boss, after all.
Sploosh.
Ivan poured more potion over him, silencing his screams before standing up.
At least he’d learned one thing.
The organization that had hired this fool to carry out the train bombing consisted of adult men wearing thick coats whose faces were concealed by recognition-obstruction magic.
It was January.
Naturally, every adult man was wearing a thick coat.
Their speech and accent hadn’t helped either.
He hadn’t expected this country bumpkin to be incapable of distinguishing accents in the first place.
A wasted effort.
Clicking his tongue, Ivan surveyed the surroundings.
The train remained quiet.
That wasn’t a bad sign.
Princess Esidisi is still fighting.
If Princess Esidisi had already lost, the bandits would have poured out of the train.
They hadn’t found the gold bars, but they’d have settled for a high-ranking noble hostage instead.
The fact that nobody had emerged yet only proved that Esidisi was still holding them back.
Just as Ivan rose to head toward the train— His Line-of-Fire Detection exploded with warnings.
Not at his forehead.
At his entire face.
Fwoooosh— The air screamed.
BOOOOOOM!!
A massive boulder shot through the air like a cannonball, obliterating the spot where Ivan had been standing only an instant before.
Ivan sprang aside.
BOOM!
BOOM!
BOOM!
More boulders slammed into the ground precisely where he moved, as though predicting every step.
“Come out.” Anyone capable of throwing rocks like that was far stronger than expected.
Which meant the opponent probably understood Line-of-Fire Detection as well.
Since this would inevitably end in close combat anyway, the enemy would have to reveal himself eventually.
“The boss is a real monster!!” Had he dismissed that warning simply because it came from a grunt incapable of using Line-of-Fire Detection?
Then that man hadn’t been the boss after all.
What a waste of expensive potion.
Ivan narrowed his eyes coldly at the man approaching from the distance.
“You’re fairly capable.” A heavily built middle-aged man with muscles bulging beneath his skin strode forward with a growl.
His murderous aura was so overwhelming it made Ivan’s entire body tingle.
“But to dare lay a finger on my Niece.” “For someone this skilled…” “…You’re surprisingly foolish.” Niece?
So that fool had been his relative.
How troublesome.
Ivan clicked his tongue, holstered his pistol, and gripped an axe in each hand.
“I hope you know something useful.” “Bullshit.” “Come.” “I’ll kill you.” Grinding his teeth, the man raised his own axe.
The next instant— The two men collided.
*** WHOOOOSH!!
CRACK!!
Esidisi grit her teeth as she heard the violin’s fingerboard twist under the impact.
“Hang in there a little longer, Kkang-Kkang-Ee!” Violins were not made to smash people.
Like most musical instruments.
(Electric guitars were the exception.
They reached perfection only after being smashed against a stage.) This delicate wooden string instrument cracked, splintered, and warped a little more every time Esidisi swung it.
But Kkang-Kkang-Ee (Violin, Second Generation) did not betray the memories—or friendship—it shared with her.
Every swing destroyed something.
Usually an adult man’s skull.
“Th-That crazy bitch!!
What the hell is she?!” “Where are the gold bars?!
Hey!
What happened to the cargo car?!” “There’s nothing there!!
We were tricked!!” The bandits wanted to run.
There was no gold.
The train had already been blown up, meaning the army would soon arrive.
And the lunatic in front of them was beating people to death with a violin.
Esidisi wanted to run too.
She could clearly feel Kkang-Kkang’s-Ee life fading away with every strike.
She was terrified of fighting.
She didn’t even know where they were.
SMASH!
CRACK!
Kkang-Kkang-Ee harvested yet another bandit’s teeth…
And finally reached the end of its life.
Holding the broken remains of the violin’s fingerboard, Esidisi lowered her head in grief.
“Kkang-Kkang-Ee…” “You were…” “…A wonderful instrument.” “That crazy bitch!!” “Shouldn’t we run?!
This isn’t a fight we can win!” “Damn it!
Do you think she’ll just let us leave?!” “Aaagh!
Where the hell is Boss?!” The boss, meanwhile, had no idea he was currently being crushed between a monstrous muscle freak and an officer of the Extermination Unit.
The remaining bandits hesitated.
That was their mistake.
Though the daughter of ‘Butcher’ Einar resembled her mother in many ways…
When it came to rage…
Fighting spirit…
And sheer combat ability…
She had inherited every bit of her father.
Among the warriors of Droan, comrades were family.
She could never allow the death of her longtime companion— Kkang-Kkang-Ee (two years old, technically an instrument)—to be in vain.
She gently stroked the remains of the violin before standing.
“Kkang-Kkang-Ee.” “I’ll never forget your sacrifice.” “Thank you.” “And…
I’m sorry.” “I’ll hold off that crazy woman.” “You all run.” “B-Boss!!” “Go!
At least you all can survive!” At their leader’s shout, the remaining bandits immediately turned and fled toward their main force, tears streaming down their faces.
Watching them disappear, the lone bandit turned back toward Esidisi.
“Miss.” “You’ve misunderstood.” “…Huh?” “We had absolutely no idea you were on this train.” “But if you spare my life…” “…I’m willing to testify in court.” “Krasilof is a nation governed by the rule of law, isn’t it?” “Please spare me!” He threw away his weapon and fell to his knees.
A wise decision.
The fleeing bandits were, at that very moment, breaking into cold sweats between one enraged Huscarl and one enraged officer of the Extermination Unit.
*** “You think bringing a few more grunts will change anything?!” “…Quite a few survived.” “But it changes nothing.” The two men, burying axes into each other’s bodies, shouted simultaneously as the fleeing bandits emerged from the train.
“Esidisi!” “The blonde young woman on that train!” “Is she safe?!” “My niece!!” “Is my niece safe?!” Ivan froze for a split second.
Wasn’t this man’s Niece the one he’d interrogated?
Glancing at the unconscious bandit lying nearby, Ivan sighed.
No wonder this fight felt so difficult.
For an early tutorial, this opponent had been far too carefully designed.
He’d thought perhaps this was some Souls-like refund-prevention boss.
But even then…
There were simply too many attack patterns.
No beginner could possibly defeat someone like this.
Which meant…
In academy stories, train attacks never actually kill the protagonist.
Someone always appears to help.
So…
This man was the helper.
And the tutorial boss had probably been intended to teach players how to fight multiple weaker enemies after escaping the train.
Ivan sighed and put away his axe.
Its edge had been chipped beyond repair.
Not that it mattered.
Weapons were consumables.
Still…
It was a shame.
“…Wait.” “Weren’t you with them?” “I don’t know why you’d think that.” Following Ivan’s lead, the man also lowered his weapon.
“You were pouring Healing Potion on that guy.” “…Mm.” Explaining the interrogation methods of the Extermination Unit would only complicate things.
There was no convincing explanation.
Ivan simply shrugged.
“I had information to extract.” “Tch.” “You should’ve said that first.” You never gave me the chance.
As Ivan looked at him with a sour expression, the man suddenly broke into a wide smile upon seeing someone running from the train.
“Esi!!” “My niece!!” “You’re safe!!” “Blegh—Uncle?!” Ignoring the reunion, Ivan glanced at the frightened bandits staring at the battlefield as though a bomb had exploded.
The target was safe.
The helper was more than capable of protecting her until she reached St.
Jansk University.
And Ivan…
Could not allow the target to recognize him.
His identity absolutely could not be exposed.
Esidisi had met him before.
Seven years had passed.
Back then she had only been a little girl barely in her teens.
Still…
There was always a chance she remembered him.
He had gathered all the information he needed.
Without another word…
Ivan turned and withdrew.
*** Princess Esidisi, eldest daughter of Berserker Einar.
Arrived in Krasilof.
One Huscarl (estimated) dispatched as a Droan operative.
Target secured.
After sending a brief encrypted telegram to the Eastern Palace, Ivan boarded the train bound for the capital.
It had been an exhausting day for very little reward.
*** “Esi.” “Do you remember someone named Ivan?” “Uncle Ivan?!” “Of course I do!” Esidisi’s face lit up instantly before becoming gloomy.
“He was…” “…Such a wonderful person.” “Kind.” “Cool…” “I’m not so sure about that.” “But anyway…” The man frowned as he continued walking.
Several terrified bandits carried a makeshift palanquin constructed from torn-off train doors.
Making sure Esidisi couldn’t hear, he muttered quietly.
“I was certain he died two years ago.” No wonder the fighting style had looked familiar.
It was identical to the special operations soldiers of Krasilof.
And his axe technique…
It strongly resembled Brother Einar’s.
A Krasilof soldier trained by Einar…
There was only one man who fit that description.
Vanguard Ivan Petrovich.
More accurately— Hero’s Party Vanguard Ivan Petrovich.
One of the elite reserves deemed worthy of replacing any fallen member of the Hero’s Party.
That man had supposedly died while taking one of the Seven Dragon Generals down with him during the extermination campaign following the Demon King’s death.
Unfortunately…
His thick beard…
The dark forest…
And the blind rage of battle…
Had prevented the man from getting a good look at his face.
Still…
Judging by appearances, he seemed to be working for the royal intelligence service.
If he was operating in the capital…
They were bound to meet again someday.
When that happened…
He’d make sure to shave him first.
Shrugging, the man continued walking.
The capital lay a week’s journey away on foot.
Thus…
The two freshmen of St.
Jansk University began their journey across the country— By train-palanquin.