The faint afterimages that had filled Aron's vision all changed shape at once.
[Analysis Complete: Critical Weakness - Joint of third armor plate beneath neck. Fully exposed for 1.2 seconds after roar]
[High reliance on smell; response weakened by strong odors and smoke]
[Signs of an old fracture in left foreleg]
Three lines of text stood out clearly in midair.
Aron exhaled hard, his eyes flashing. The time for blind evasion and defense was over. Now it was time to hunt.
Even as the wolf attacked without pause, he calmly gauged his teammates' positions.
Then he spoke without hesitation.
"We're counterattacking! Everyone, follow my orders!"
His booming voice cut through the noise of the forest.
Life returned to the eyes of his exhausted, wounded teammates. For the first time, Aron, who had told them only to defend, was ordering an attack.
"Celia! Don't attack it directly. Throw sparks into the wet fallen leaves covering the ground and the nearby trees. Keep the flames low and produce only acrid smoke!"
"Smoke?"
"Its reliance on smell is abnormally high. We need to dull its senses with strong odors and smoke first. Now!"
The explanation was short and clear.
Celia immediately thrust her staff toward the ground. As soon as the flames of her magic touched the wet earth and rotting tree trunks, black smoke billowed up with a hiss.
"Toren! Hold your shield tight. You need to keep its attention fixed straight ahead. Don't back down!"
"G-got it!"
With his shield on the verge of breaking, Toren planted his feet and stood in the wolf's path.
Aron's gaze shifted swiftly to Bran.
"Bran Kessler! Aim only for its left foreleg!"
"That's where the armor's thickest. You want me to hit it there?"
"There's evidence of an old fracture. That leg has the least mobility. Keep hammering that joint until it can't move!"
Bran's doubt lasted only an instant.
He did not question Aron. Adjusting his grip on his sword, he pushed off the ground and charged through the dust.
"Here I go!"
In an instant, thick gray smoke covered everything.
With his view obscured and the acrid smell stinging his nose, the Ironclad Wolf stopped dead.
"Grrrrrr......."
It sniffed at the air, then shook its head and coughed. The disoriented beast's red eyes darted about in confusion.
Toren seized the moment, slammed his heavy shield against the ground, and shouted.
"Over here, you bastard!"
Blinded by the smoke, the wolf turned its head toward the loud noise in front of it.
At that moment, Bran darted into the blind spot along its left flank.
"Haaah!"
With a shout, Bran's sword cut a fierce arc.
His target was precisely the joint of its left foreleg.
The blade did not pierce the thick hide, but the full force of the heavy blow struck the weak spot where the bone had once healed.
CRACK—!
The wolf's body lurched violently with a dull crack.
As the old injury took a severe blow, the beast's leg buckled. The wolf lost its balance, rolled on the ground, and thrashed wildly.
"ROAR—!"
A dreadful roar burst out, mingling extreme pain and fury.
It was a howl so powerful the entire forest shook.
The beast threw its head high toward the sky, its neck stretched straight.
[Fully exposed for 1.2 seconds after roar]
Aron saw the gap beneath the third armor plate below its jaw open completely.
It was the fleeting chance he had been waiting for.
'Now.'
Aron lowered his body and drove his foot hard against the ground.
Rotational force rose from his feet through his hips and gathered at the tip of his sword. He had stripped the principle from Bran's heavy swing and rebuilt the shift of weight to suit himself.
Aron's sword cut through the wind toward the open joint between the armor plates.
But then—
'It's a little too far.'
The wolf twisted wildly in its fury, shifting the angle ever so slightly.
At his current speed and distance, the tip of his sword would fail to pierce the joint. It would graze the outer armor and bounce away.
For all the promise of those 1.2 seconds, the possibility of failure flashed through his mind in an instant.
That was when it happened.
"You're not getting away!"
Bran threw himself forward from the opposite side.
One look at Aron's movement and gaze told him what Aron intended. He realized Aron was trying to strike through the opening Bran had created by hitting the wolf's leg.
Bran drove his shoulder hard into the wolf's opposite flank.
THUD—!
It was a brute-force charge that nearly broke his bones.
But the impact shifted the enormous, thrashing wolf's body ever so slightly.
Its neck moved directly into the path of Aron's sword.
"Hah!"
Aron thrust his sword straight forward without hesitation.
A brief surge of magic power through his feet and lower body propelled him forward. It was a compact, heavy thrust, stripped of every needless movement.
The sharp point slipped precisely between the separated armor plates.
SQUELCH—!
The sword tore through thick hide and tough muscle, piercing deep into the wolf's windpipe.
Blood gushed from the beast's mouth.
"Ghack......! Khh!"
Mortally wounded, the Ironclad Wolf did not die at once. It began to thrash savagely.
With the sword still lodged in it, it shook its head madly in one last struggle. The violent force nearly lifted Aron off the ground.
"I won't let go!"
Toren shouted and leaped in. With his shield nearly broken, he pressed down desperately on the wolf's heavy jaw. The beast's teeth scraped noisily across the shield's surface, but Toren held on, ready to break his arm if he had to.
"Give it here!"
Bran rolled across the ground and slashed across the back of the joint in its remaining right leg.
The wolf, robbed of all mobility, crashed to the ground.
"Toren, Bran, get back! Celia! Fire now!"
Aron let go of the embedded sword and moved aside as he shouted. Toren and Bran withdrew from the wolf at once.
Celia, who had been producing the smoke, adjusted her grip on her staff and drew up her magic power to its limit.
"Fireball!"
Red flames shot from the tip of her staff and forced their way into the gap at the wolf's exposed neck, through the wound where Aron's sword was lodged.
BOOM—!
Fire exploded inside the wolf.
Its thick outer armor remained intact, but no beast could withstand the shock of its insides burning away.
The wolf's eyes rolled back, and its body went rigid.
Its massive frame swayed slowly, then fell forward onto the ground with a heavy thud.
THUD.
Dust rose in a fierce cloud.
The magic beast that had radiated such suffocating pressure finally lay limp and motionless.
It was dead.
Silence settled over the forest.
Only ragged breathing filled the air.
Bran sank to the ground, tossed aside his sword, and chuckled.
"Fuck. We actually got it. We killed that thing."
Toren, too, moved his broken shield aside and breathed a sigh of relief.
The achievement of bringing down a higher-grade magic beast and the joy of surviving washed over the team. They began to lower their weapons and relax.
"Don't break formation yet."
His voice was cold and firm.
All eyes turned toward Aron.
Aron was not caught up in the thrill of victory.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand and scanned their surroundings without a trace of expression. The situation was not entirely over.
"Toren, drop your shield and fall back. Bran, keep watch ahead. Celia, put out the embers around us."
The clipped orders came one after another.
Without complaint, his teammates readied themselves again. At that moment, Aron's words were their absolute guide.
Keeping the formation in place, Aron slowly checked on each of them.
"Toren."
"Huh? Oh, what?"
"Raise your left arm."
Toren tried to lift it without thinking and winced.
"Ngh......."
From his wrist to his shoulder, deep bruising remained where he had strained to hold down the wolf's jaw with his shield. Terrible blue-black bruises spread visibly across his skin.
"You strained the muscles holding it down. Lia."
Lia, the healer who had been waiting behind them with bated breath, hurried forward.
"Y-yes!"
"Use the magic power you saved to treat Toren's arm first. We need to check the others too, so channel only as much as he needs, and do it slowly."
Lia nodded and placed both hands on Toren's arm. Warm magic power flowed out, and his pained expression gradually eased.
Aron put away the sword he had pulled from the wolf's neck and rubbed his right shoulder.
In the final moment, he had put too much of his weight behind the thrust, and a sharp pain was tearing through the muscle. It was an injury that would make it difficult to swing a weapon with force right now.
But Aron added calmly,
"Once you've finished treating Toren, see to my shoulder too. I think I damaged the muscle."
"Y-yes, sir."
With the injured accounted for, Aron finally straightened and let out a short breath.
His teammates, covered in dirt, were a sorry sight, but none of them had lost their lives or suffered an irreversible, serious injury.
It was the near-miraculous result of everyone surviving.
"Hey, Aron."
Bran turned his head from his watch and called to him.
"We really made it out alive. Just by doing what you told us."
Bran's face was covered in dust and marked by exhaustion, but his eyes were more serious than ever.
It was more than simple admiration for a classmate and rival. His gaze held the deep trust of a comrade who had faced death alongside him.
"That's because you made a good opening."
Aron answered evenly and stared at the Ironclad Wolf's enormous corpse on the ground.
The battle had driven home to him that his observation and judgment worked in real combat.
He had won, but he still had no shortage of weaknesses.
'Ultimately, the key is the speed and mobility to reach it.'
He quietly reviewed the exchange in his mind.
A cool wind swept the acrid smoke from the forest, slowly restoring the air as it had been.
Amid ragged breaths and the smell of earth, Aron's heavy gaze wandered through the empty air before slowly settling.