The numbers hanging clearly in midair were silently counting down.
183.
182.
181.
Aron did not even have a moment to wipe the sweat running down his jaw. The enormous monster standing before him made the air around it tremble simply by breathing hard. The moment the Ironclad Wolf's glowing red eyes swept over the team, Lia's shoulders flinched, and Toren's shield began to shake.
The air was heavy, as though a massive mountain of rock were bearing down on them.
As the numbers fell, incomplete fragments of information burst forth as text and struck Aron's retinas.
[Frontal armor strength: high]
[Rear pursuit speed: high]
[Left-side visual response: delayed]
Aron's mind raced. He could see no sure weakness that would let them deal a fatal blow right away. But the clues were enough to help them hold out for three minutes.
He spoke at once to the teammates frozen in place.
"Toren."
His firm, measured voice broke the silence of the frozen forest.
"Don't try to block it with your shield. You can't withstand something that big. Your arm will break the moment you collide with it. Circle a thick tree or a boulder and just keep its attention on you."
Toren swallowed hard and gave a heavy nod. Aron's gaze went straight to Celia.
"Celia. You don't need to hit it directly with magic. Each time it moves, scatter flames across its path to the right. Block that route and force it to move in one direction."
"O-okay."
Celia gripped her staff tightly.
"Lia. Stay back, no matter what. Until someone gets hurt, don't use a single drop of magic power. Save all of it. Don't step forward recklessly."
"Y-yes!"
Defense and delay. It was a strategy devoted entirely to buying time.
Then Bran, standing beside him, adjusted his grip on his sword and stepped forward.
"I'll go in."
"What?"
"We can't just keep running away. Like with the boar, I'll find a way to create an opening from the side. Stab it while I do."
The suggestion had slipped out of Bran without thought. It was also a swordsman's instinct to overcome the danger before him with a strike of his own.
But Aron reached out without hesitation and barred Bran's way with an arm across his shoulder.
"Step back, Bran Kessler."
"Hey, aren't you listening? I'll draw its attention—"
"No matter how heavy your swing is, that sword of yours won't leave a scratch on its frontal armor right now."
Aron's eyes remained cold and steady.
"If you force in a blow that can't land, your sword will bounce off. The moment the recoil locks up your body, its claws will tear your throat apart."
Bran opened his mouth to argue, then shut it tight.
Aron's accurate predictions during the boar subjugation a short while ago. The fierce control Bran had experienced in the sparring ground. The classmate before him was not the sort to spout nonsense out of bravado or fear.
"Fuck. Then what am I supposed to do?"
Bran lowered his sword as he asked, letting out a short curse. Instead of stubbornly insisting, he acknowledged his limits and accepted the answer without excuses.
"Only strike briefly from the side when Toren's in danger, then pull back. Just keep it in check. Don't follow up with another blow."
"Got it."
The instant Aron finished assigning their roles, the Ironclad Wolf let out a savage howl.
Grrrrr!
A fierce wind swept in every direction with the beast's roar. As it gathered strength in its hind legs, the earth beneath it burst apart, and its enormous body shot forward.
Its target was Toren, who stood at the very front.
Toren's eyes widened at the beast bearing down on him like a chariot. Just as he instinctively raised his shield to defend himself, Aron shouted.
"Jump to the right!"
The information 'Left-side visual response: delayed' was etched into Aron's mind. There was a tiny hitch whenever the wolf turned its head slightly to the left.
Without hesitation, Toren turned his shield sideways, hugged it against his body, and rolled to the right.
CRASH—!
The massive tree behind where Toren had stood shattered in an instant. At the sight of its thick trunk ripping apart like a sheet of paper, a chill ran down Toren's spine.
Had he tried to block that blow, there would not have been a bone left to pick up.
"Celia!"
"Blazing Wall!"
Celia swung her staff in haste.
Just as the wolf, having missed its target, tried to turn sharply to the right, scarlet flames blocked its path. Startled by the heat, the wolf faltered and lifted a forepaw.
"Bran! Now!"
"Hup!"
Bran, who had been waiting to keep it in check, closed the distance quickly. His hips twisted hard, and his heavy sword struck the area around the wolf's knee joint with a dull thud.
THUD!
The blow made a sound, but the wolf barely moved, as though someone had scratched an itch. Instead, it swung its sharp foreclaws wide, as if swatting away a bothersome insect.
But Bran had already withdrawn the moment he struck, without even looking back, just as Aron had instructed.
The beast's claws sliced through empty air with a dreadful whistle.
If Bran had lingered to strike again, or had been even a little slow to pull back, that sweep would have sliced straight through his chest.
"That hide's fucking thick."
Bran retreated in a cold sweat, gritting his teeth.
Breathing hard, Aron stared at the text in midair.
85.
84.
83.
A hundred seconds had slipped away in the breathless exchange.
New information appeared on the transparent window.
[Armor joint beneath neck briefly opens during movement]
A split-second opening.
When it lifted its head or made a great leap, a sliver of flesh was exposed between the thick plates beneath its jaw.
It was the only path through the thick fur and hide by which they could land a blow.
But Aron shook his head without hesitation. With his teammates' current mobility and the amount of magic power he had, they could not move fast enough to pierce that tiny gap in a single strike. If they pushed in recklessly, they were more likely to be caught by a counterattack and suffer a painful blow. Knowing a weakness was useless without the skill to exploit it.
Aron shouted to his teammates.
"Forget about attacking altogether! Don't try to bring it down right now!"
They flinched and turned toward him.
"Even if you see an opening, don't go in! Until the analysis is complete, just keep dodging and keeping it in check. Forcing an attack will only hurt us. Focus entirely on staying alive!"
They obeyed his firm orders without a word of complaint. Any half-baked urge to play the hero or show off had long since vanished before the hopeless bulk of the beast in front of them.
"Rooooar!"
After one missed swing after another and constant interference from the small fry, the Ironclad Wolf gradually began to lose its senses.
The enraged beast tore through everything around it. Great boulders shattered, and swirling clouds of dust blotted out their view.
Even in the choking dust, Aron's eyes never wavered from the wolf's joints for an instant.
"Toren, press up against the back of that boulder! Bran, three steps back! Celia, stop channeling magic power and move!"
Aron's voice, pouring out commands without pause, was the only reliable guidepost in the chaotic forest.
The enraged wolf attacked with savage force, but its blows repeatedly swept through empty air, grazing only the teammates' clothes. Though Toren never took a direct hit, cracks spread across his shield as he caught flying stones and splinters of wood.
Just before the beast turned its head, the moment it braced its legs, the instant it changed direction.
Aron read the flaw in every movement and drilled the safest path into his teammates.
CRASH—! CRUNCH—!
The terrain broke apart, and the forest came crashing down around them in a scene of utter chaos.
Under that dizzying pressure, every member of the team was still able to fight.
'We can do this.'
Celia, holding her breath as she controlled her magic power, clenched her trembling hand.
Lia, who had sunk down in helplessness, also planted her feet and readied herself to cast healing magic at any moment.
Bran and Toren were covered in dirt from rolling and running without pause. By now, the fear had faded from their eyes as well.
Their eyes were fixed on one person: on Aron's mouth.
If we do as he says, we won't fall.
The deep trust that had blossomed in the midst of it all breathed an undying hope of survival into their steps.
19.
18.
17.
Before long, fewer than twenty seconds remained until the analysis was complete.
Aron roughly swept back his sweat-soaked hair and held his sword upright close to his body. The enormous silhouette of the Ironclad Wolf, its eyes glowing red, was reflected clearly in his calm eyes.
"Just hold out a little longer."
Aron murmured under his breath. His gaze was already fixed on the beast's fatal opening.