Large letters were written across the enormous blackboard at the front of the classroom.
Grayden Forest Low-Grade Monster Subjugation.
The notice announced the first combat lesson outside the academy for the first-year students. Murmurs spread among them like a wave. Some faces shone with anticipation, but quite a few students could not hide their nerves.
“The five-person team assignments have been sent to the team leaders. The academy will not assign porters, so each team must divide its baggage among its members.”
Instructor Bern Hart, who was leading the expedition, spoke in a dry voice from the lectern. He continued as though pouring cold water on the excited students.
“It may be a controlled area, but real monsters live in that forest. They will not politely stop attacking like your classmates in the sparring grounds. Keep your wits about you. Carelessness means death.”
The chilling warning quieted the classroom at once.
Aron rose and walked to where his team was gathering. Four students were already standing by the notice board: Bran Kessler, a swordsman; Celia Noren, a fire mage; Toren Bask, a shield warrior; and Lia Bell, a healer.
Bran was the first to react when Aron approached.
“You’re here.”
Bran gave a brief nod, his arms folded. He no longer showed the open contempt he once had, though there was a curious tension about him. Being placed on the same team as someone who had dealt him such a painful defeat apparently made him uncomfortable. Aron nodded back.
“I kept you waiting.”
Celia stepped toward him, staff in hand.
“Hello, Aron.”
“Celia Noren.”
“I heard about your match with Peln. They say you even read the moment he fired his fireball. I thought you only knew swordsmanship, but you seem to know a fair bit about magic, too.”
Celia studied Aron with curiosity. No one had expected the student once called the perpetual last-place finisher to spot flaws in magic as well. She did not see him as merely lucky.
“I think we’ll need your help out there, too. Could you handle the overall assessment of the situation for our team? I’m the team leader, of course.”
“If you don’t mind me doing it.”
“Good. Let’s check our equipment and head out. Toren agreed to carry a little more of the baggage.”
The broad-built Toren slung a bag over his shoulder with a good-natured smile. Lia, the healer, nodded quietly. Aron looked over his teammates. A swordsman, a mage, a shield warrior, a healer, and himself with his unconventional thrusts. The team was well balanced.
Cool, damp air brushed their skin as they passed the forest entrance. Little light penetrated the dense trees, leaving it dim even at midday. An eerie silence hung over the forest; not even an insect could be heard.
The team instinctively softened their footsteps and advanced slowly. At the front, Toren stopped short and raised his shield.
“There’s something ahead.”
At the same moment, they heard harsh breathing. The bushes shook violently, and two beasts emerged, their red eyes gleaming.
Fanged Boars.
Thick, sharp tusks jutted grotesquely from their jaws. The sound of their forefeet scraping the ground tore through the forest’s silence.
“I’ll stop them first!”
Toren stepped forward with his shield raised. Bran gripped his sword hilt, ready to spring. Just then, as Aron’s gaze fell on the boar in front, a transparent window appeared in the air.
[High defense at front of skull.]
[Right hind-leg joint damaged.]
[Cannot turn immediately after charging.]
The ability that analyzed people’s movements in the training grounds worked on monsters as well. Aron sorted the information in his head and spoke at once.
“Don’t attack them head-on. Their skulls are hard.”
“Then what do we do?” Toren asked tensely.
“Don’t block them with your shield. Just deflect the path of their charge. Bran, strike the leading one from the side as soon as Toren moves aside. Its right hind leg is injured. It can’t turn once it charges.”
“Got it.”
Bran lowered his center of gravity.
THUD—!
Both boars charged at once, kicking up dust. Following Aron’s instructions, Toren avoided a head-on collision. He twisted his body and used his shield to knock them from the side.
CRASH—!
One boar veered off course and stumbled. Bran sprang forward as though he had been waiting for that moment. His sword, driven by a powerful turn of his waist, struck the boar’s injured right hind leg squarely.
CRUNCH—!
Bone broke. The boar gave an unnatural shriek and rolled across the ground. The other tried to turn, but it was too late.
“Celia. Cut off its retreat.”
“Leave it to me!”
Red flames poured from the tip of Celia’s staff, setting the ground behind the boar ablaze. As the monster faltered in the heat, Aron closed the distance in an instant. Force rose from his foot, traveled through his hips, and burst briefly and powerfully through the tip of his sword.
THWACK—!
Aron’s thrust avoided the skull and pierced the soft flesh at the back of the boar’s neck. Bran finished off the one rolling on the ground. It had all happened in the space of a few breaths. The two boars lay motionless, growing cold without having put up much of a fight.
“……Wow.”
Lia, who had watched from behind, let out a quiet exclamation. Celia looked back and forth between Aron and the fallen boars in disbelief.
“How did you know its joint was damaged?”
“I got lucky.”
“Your instructions were far too precise for luck.”
Bran clicked his tongue as he shook off his sword. The relentless powers of observation he had encountered in their match were just as effective in real combat. The fight had unfolded almost as though they had followed a script prepared in advance.
The others’ expressions changed. At first, they had been unsure whether to follow Aron’s directions. Now there was firm trust in their eyes. His skill and the result spoke for themselves.
“Well done. At this rate, we’ll finish off the low-grade monsters in no time,” Celia said brightly.
The others looked more relaxed, too. The tension of their first fight had eased, and their steps grew lighter. Aron, however, frowned slightly. It was good to know that his information window worked on monsters, but something felt wrong.
The forest was too quiet.
‘Even after all the noise from that fire magic, there’s no sign of anything nearby reacting.’
In a place inhabited by low-grade monsters, even a small disturbance should have drawn a response. Aron swept his gaze over their surroundings. Deep gouges in the tree trunks. The pattern of crushed grass on the ground. Something large had passed through here.
They had gone a little farther into the forest when an unpleasant sensation swept over them, as if the air on every side had turned sticky and clung to their bodies. A heavy trace of magic power made even breathing feel difficult. It was an alien presence that should never have been felt in an area inhabited by monsters of Grade 3 or lower.
“Everyone, stop,” Aron warned in a low voice.
Toren flinched and raised his shield. Bran and Celia immediately readied themselves for a fight. From the distance came the sound of something approaching.
THUD. THUD.
Each footfall made the ground tremble faintly. Thick trees snapped with a sickening crack. Through the rising dust, an enormous silhouette slowly appeared.
“Shit…… Why is that here?” Bran swore without thinking.
The creature looked at least three times the size of an ordinary wolf. Steel-gray fur covered its body, and its eyes glowed red.
An upper-tier Grade 4 magic beast: an Ironclad Wolf.
It had no place in a controlled safe zone. The Ironclad Wolf opened its jaws and exhaled savagely. The instant its gaze turned on the team, Lia’s legs gave way and she collapsed to the ground. Toren’s hand turned white around his shield and shook uncontrollably.
They were no match for it. This magic beast was beyond anything first-year academy students could handle.
In the oppressive air, where they could not take even one step back, Aron held his breath and stared at the Ironclad Wolf from head to tail. He had to find its weakness. He opened his analytical ability to its limit.
BUZZ.
Normally, a few lines of text would appear immediately. This time was different. Dozens, then hundreds, of complex pieces of information poured across the transparent window at once: minute movements of muscle, the flow of magic power, the structure of its joints. The sheer volume of information sent Aron’s vision spinning.
A headache struck as though his skull were splitting open. The window processed the information at a furious pace before settling on a single line.
[Estimated time to complete analysis at current ability: 184 seconds.]
Aron’s eyes wavered.
184 seconds. Just over three minutes. Normally it would feel brief, but before this savage monster it seemed to stretch into eternity.
The Ironclad Wolf dug its sharp claws into the ground and prepared to leap. Somehow, they had to hold out until the analysis was complete. Aron readjusted his grip on his sword and tensed his legs.
“Spread out.”
His brief command cut through the heavy silence.