by Funa
Mile waited patiently.
A number of soldiers from the back line rushed to those who were wounded.
Okay, now!
Just for the sake of appearances, Mile uttered a quick spell so that she wouldn’t appear to be casting silently. Then, she closed one eye clumsily, her expression calm.
“O little eye of mine, strike electric bolts into these bumblers!”
There was a crackling noise, and the line of enemy soldiers fell in place.
It was lightning magic, and Mile had held back just enough to avoid killing them. Thus was born one of Mile’s seven special techniques, which she would later dub the “Winking Angel Shot.”
Those who had been rushing across the battlefield to the aid of the injured were most certainly magic users, attempting to use healing. And this was exactly the reason that Mile had chosen them as her target. As the mages were wearing bandit garb like the others, there was no way to tell them apart—except by their movements.
Now the number of enemy magic users should have been greatly reduced, assuming that Mile’s thinking was correct. The injured soldiers had taken the shock as well, losing consciousness—a mercy for many of the casualties, and especially those burned by Pauline’s spell, who writhed on the ground in agony.
“Wh…”
The three Flaming Wolves had taken their eyes off of the enemy to stare at Mile.
Fortunately, the enemy had stopped in their tracks, but this was still not particularly advisable.
Dragonbreath, of course, were not as foolish, and though they were surprised, they remained vigilant of the enemies’ movements.
“They’re coming!” Bart called out to the distracted Flaming Wolves.
There were only six guards with one or two mages at best. That’s what the “bandits” thought. The guards would simply surrender and then, once they’d given up all their weapons, the cargo from the wagons would be up for grabs.
They assumed it was a simple job, just like many others. Then suddenly, they were on the receiving end of a magical onslaught. In an instant, they had lost about 20 percent of their fighting force. Furthermore, half of their most valuable magic users had fallen. Their forces halted for a moment, then advanced again at their commander’s direction. This was not the leisurely pace of earlier, but a full-on rush.
If they walked slowly they’d be picked off one at a time by magical attacks. They had no choice but to attack all at once to stave off the possibility of a counterattack.
A few soldiers didn’t approach, but instead stopped some distance away. These were the archers and remaining mages. Now they were within effective range. The spear-throwers would have to continue approaching.
During Mile’s attack, Reina, Pauline, and Jeanie had prepared their next spells, and they sent them flying toward the swordsmen and lancers at the head of the assault.
Boom! Whoosh! Ka-splash!
Reina let off another firebomb, but she did not aim directly at their foes this time. Instead, she let it crash to the ground and explode, lighting several enemy soldiers ablaze.
Pauline’s attack consisted of two bursts of the condensed fireball spell she’d demonstrated at the graduation exam. One of the bursts pierced a soldier’s right shoulder, while the other struck a man in the gut. His abdomen was well guarded by armor, but the direct strike combined with the heat and the fire spreading across the soldier’s body left him writhing on the ground.
Jeanie’s spell was an ice spear. Unlike fire-type spells, that were constantly combusting with magical energy, ice spears were solid and would strike even if they were blocked by magical means.
This time, the mages did not use protection magic, prioritizing attacks over preventing casualties to their already-reduced numbers. The ice spear pierced the soldiers, and the three casters began preparing their next spells.
Mile observed the movement of the soldiers in the farther formation.
Whoosh!
The enemy archers sent a wave of arrows flying. Mile, in turn, sent a protective gust of wind in the direction of the arrows.
“Wind-ow! Wind-ow! Wind-ooooow!”
Swept off course by the wind, the enemies’ arrows crashed to the ground.
This, naturally, was because windows always crash.
The spell was not particularly shocking, though it was slightly stronger than the typical wind casting.
The barrage of arrows continued, and soon attack magic came flying toward them as well: a coordinated storm of firebombs. Not precisely targeted shots, but a large quantity aimed at causing harm over the widest possible area.
The swarm of firebombs was timed to coincide with the exact moment Mile should have been busy deflecting the archers’ previous attack. Fire rained down on the merchants’ party.
“Magic Shot!”
As Mile let off her “spell,” several intercepting bursts went flying.
The shots—each one guided by the nanomachines—struck the enemy’s firebombs, causing them to explore in midair.
“Incredible…”
The platoon commander, certain that his enemy’s back line would be easily crushed, was stunned to see their attack power.
Still, he was confident as his close-range forces entered the fray. Though their attack power was inferior to the mages, they had the superiority of numbers. Besides, there was no way that a lowly hunter could stand up to a soldier when it came to close-range combat with spears and swords.
If a melee began to rage, mixing friends and foes, magic use would be difficult. They could deal with the mages after they’d felled the front line. There were a number of tactics they could use to deal with the magic users, particularly since they too had mages on their side. True, they’d sustained a number of casualties during their approach, but these could be healed with magic afterwards… shaking himself back to reality, the commander shouted.
“Attaaaaaaaack!”
Hmm… I wonder if I could fire off one more round before we get into close quarters combat?
Mile had no intention of crushing all the enemies by herself.
If she did, there would be nothing else for the other guards to do, and besides, it would attract too much attention. No matter what, she was just a normal, average C-rank hunter, after all. It was unwise to draw too much notice to herself.
Yet at this rate, if they entered melee combat then the casualties among her own allies would increase. And while magic could heal most injuries, death was another matter.
For now, she had to focus on doing everything she could to decrease the enemy’s fighting strength.
Some way to make the enemies weaker without standing out… Ah! That’s it!
Mile chanted a spell.
“Shave off the soles of their shoes and fill the insides with pointy rocks!”
“Gaaah!!!”
“Owwwwwww!!!”
Some groaned and grabbed their ankles, while others, feeling the pain on the bottom of their feet, cried out in a very un-soldier-like manner.
“What’s wrong with them?”
Bart was perplexed by the enemy’s sudden stop.
“What’s going on? It looks like they’ve all got gravel in their shoes or something.” Seeing the strange way that the enemies wobbled from side to side, Vera gave an extraordinarily precise analysis.
The soldiers’ shoes were the broken-in combat boots worn by most fighters. Mile knew that it took a lot of time to change in and out of this kind of footwear. In order to alleviate their pain, they would have to unlace their boots, remove the gravel, and then put the boots back on. Naturally, there was no way that they could do such a thing right under their enemies’ noses.
The soldiers would have to withstand the pain and overcome the difficulty of walking to resume their assault—running in a strange, faltering way.
This wasn’t just thanks to the pebbles in their shoes. There were also a number of soldiers whose ankles had started to ache terribly.
“All right, vanguard, roll out
! Mages and Vera, please support them from here!”
They were on the verge of melee. The rear guard remained where they were, while the forward guard started to advance. The Flaming Wolves were stunned to see Mile calmly join the advance guard, having assumed that she was primarily a mage and carried a sword only for self-defense. But they said nothing about it. There was no time to waste.
A volley of powerful attack spells flew at each of the front lines. Without Mile, however, the mages on the merchants’ side were working at about half their normal efficiency, their spells dissipating on the enemies’ protection magic. Still, Mile blocked every shot from the enemy. Once the melee began, they would only be able to use precise, short-range spells, or else fire long-range magic at the opposition’s back line.
And so the true battle began.
Dragonbreath’s three vanguard fighters were strong. Bart, their leader, was a B-rank, and the other two were quite close to earning that distinction. Their promotion was near, and their power could be relied upon in all normal circumstances. They didn’t bother chasing the enemy, but instead skillfully fended off any attackers who came near.
On the other hand, the Flaming Wolves were quite flustered.
For a group of middle-of-the-road C-rank hunters, fighting against numerous soldiers was a challenge. However not long after they began fighting, the Wolves got into the swing of things, realizing that they were more capable in battle than they had thought.
A big part of this was because, for some reason, the enemies’ movements were unsteady and they were unable to put their backs into either attack or defense. The precision support that the front-line fighters received from the mages and Vera’s archery also helped. They were not striking men down in a single blow, but still managed to handle the attacks, landing a few blows themselves. Fighting like that against soldiers who greatly outnumbered them was highly commendable.
Among the mages, Reina exchanged long-range fire with the enemy back line, while Pauline and Jeanie were in charge of attack and support for those within the fray.
Only three enemy mages remained. With two of those focused on protecting against Reina’s spells, their attack reserves were quite slim. If they took even one direct hit, it would all be over. They had no choice but to focus on defense.
The one remaining attack mage sent spells toward the front line, working between shots to guard against Pauline and Jeanie. Indeed, Pauline and Jeanie had an advantage in this, as the fighting was taking place was closer to the merchants’ side than the enemies’.
Two enemy mages blocked Reina’s shots, and one fired at the Dragonbreath members fighting in the melee. Meanwhile, Pauline intercepted an attack, then joined Reina and Jeanie in incanting another attack spell. They fired the three attacks all at once, targeting each one of the enemy mages.
The enemies hastily prepared a defense spell, but whereas before they’d only been guarding against Reina, now they were facing three magic users. Furthermore, one enemy mage was still in the midst of casting, without enough time to change tack.
Booom!
The girls’ spells struck, and the enemy’s magical assault fell silent.
“I think you did it!” Mile cried as she swung her sword.
As she deflected the enemies’ magical attacks, her allies added to their support from behind.
Fighting nearby, Bart grinned. This was no time for chitchat.
If an opponent wore leather armor, you struck them with the side of your blade and aimed to break their ribs instead of killing. But with metal armor, you could strike with the blade as normal, denting their armor to accomplish the same. Since many of the “bandits” wore metal breastplates, Mile swung her sword with gusto.
Against the waves of enemy arrows, shot in spite of the danger of friendly fire, Mile merely shook her right hand, chanting a simple spell to deflect them.
Then came the rain of spears.
“Magic Shield!”
Cling clang cling clang!
The spears stopped mid-air as though they had struck a wall and fell to the ground.
Arrows rained down again shortly after…
“Those are fire arrows!”
Just as Bart said, there were fire arrows flying their way, aimed not at the fighting forces, but at the wagons behind.
This was likely a gambit to light the wagons ablaze, distracting the back line and drawing out noncombatants.
Seeing Mile make no move to intercept the arrows, which were just reaching the apex of their smooth arcs, Bart steeled himself for the loss of the wagons. But then—
Clink clink clink clink clink!
The arrows stopped mid-air, just short of the wagons, and fell to the ground like the spears before them.
“……”
Unlike with the spears, Mile didn’t appear to have used wind magic. A spell that could render defense without any kind of physical intermediary was simply unheard of.
No use in worrying over that, thought Bart. He had learned not to question the Crimson Vow.
“I’m going to go help the left side, all right?” Mile—her attempts to disguise her magic growing increasingly sloppy—asked to assist the Flaming Wolves.
“Sure. Go!”
The enemies’ numbers were steadily decreasing, and they had no magic users left. That finally gave Bart some room to breathe—and worry over the Flaming Wolves’ part of the battle. He granted Mile permission immediately. Mavis’s abilities had surpassed Bart’s expectations, and he was not particularly worried about her.
Mile rushed to the left of Dragonbreath to find the Flaming Wolves fighting a fierce battle.
Callum, one of the Dragonbreath’s swordsmen, was the closest by. He was also keeping an eye on the Flaming Wolves. For mid-level C-rank hunters, fighting that many soldiers was a tall order—even if their enemies were clumsy and had difficulty walking. Chuck, the swordsman, had been wounded and gripped his sword with only his right hand, his face twisted in pain. The movements of the other two were limited as they tried to fight while covering their party member.
Just then, an enemy soldier swung down at Chuck, his defenses were already weakened by his injury.
“Ch—”
Shing!
Before Brett, the leader, could even finish his scream, there was a loud clash as the enemy’s sword hit Mile’s mystery blade.
Shff!
Mile thrust up on the enemy sword, as if to dislodge the blade.
Pushed backwards by Mile’s overwhelming force, the soldier lost his balance. And then Chuck’s sword struck him. Because Chuck swung with only one hand, the soldier’s armor protected him from mortal injury, but even so there was a sound of bones breaking as the man fell back.
“Thanks! You totally saved me!” Chuck said in appreciation to Mile, and Brett bowed his head gently.
Mile nodded and turned to face the next enemy.
By now, the enemy had been reduced by twenty, and without their magic users they took the full brunt of the hunters’ magical attacks.
Knowing their arrows would be ineffective, the archers drew their swords and entered the melee rather than standing back, open to magical attacks. However, expert swordsmen were already dropping on all sides, so by the time the archers joined there was nothing they could do to turn the tide. One by one, they too were defeated.
At some point, the back-line mages had moved to the opposite side of the fray, surrounding the soldiers and blocking their path of escape. The enemy, now down to ten, didn’t have the luxury of ignoring the fighters in front of them to go after the mages. Even if they’d tried, at such a distance they’d be struck down by a magical attack before they could make their approach.
The enemy commander had already forfeited any possibility of retreat.
Running and leaving behind so many injured soldiers could put him in very hot water later on. No matter how elite his men were, if so many of them were captured and tortured, there was bound to be at least one who’d spill the beans. If
they wanted to escape, they’d have to drag the injured along. Unfortunately, if their wounds were too severe, they’d have to silence them.
In any event, with things as they were, escape was hardly an option. Even if they managed to get away, they’d face relentless attacks until they reached the border and they couldn’t drag such a persistent force into their own lands.
There was no option but to defeat the hunters any way they could, tie up the merchants and take their wagons, unload the cargo, and then use the vehicles to carry their wounded back home. That way they could transport even those with more serious injuries, bringing the bodies of the fallen to be buried along the road.
There would be time to consider all of that after they had wiped out the hunters. It was still possible that it would not even come to that. After all, the dead had no worries.
With that in mind, the commander swung his sword desperately. With a twisted ankle and boots full of gravel, he couldn’t plant his weight and his steps were unsteady. He’d thought that he could ignore the pain because his life depended on it, but found he couldn’t summon the fortitude to focus on the battle. His strength had been decimated.
It hurt him greatly to fight his final battle under such circumstances. He wanted to rage, but knew that lamenting would help nothing.
Strangely, it seemed that his subordinates were in the same situation. He knew that no matter how far they had fallen behind in the magic battle, these were not the sort of soldiers to come to a cowardly end.
Why? How had it ended this way?
In the end, there was not such an enormous difference in power after all.
Before they even reached the melee, eleven of the enemy combatants had been incapacitated by just three mages. After that, eleven more—three mages, four archers, and four lancers—had been halted along the way. By the time the soldiers clashed with the merchant group’s front line, no more than eighteen remained. The three members of Dragonbreath, the strongest of the hunters, defended the center. Each of them took three soldiers, while the three Flaming Wolves took two apiece. Mavis took two and Mile one more, even though with such uneven numbers they were certain they’d be killed in an instant.