Chapter 72

"Could you please train us?"

If I said there was no anxiety, it would be a lie.

Even though they had been saved by the other party, it was the land of monsters, a place where all the citizens, except for the single king, were monsters. Immediately after forming an alliance, it was not a time to deepen friendship; both sides were cautiously feeling each other out, as if measuring each other with tentative steps.

"We have sent people from Alkymira to our town, but the people from Latestwood who have set foot on your land are only a select few, led by Lady Reifa. I thought it might not be a waste as part of an exchange program to deepen our friendship..."

It was a pretext I had wracked my brain to come up with. I proposed this to the ambassador with the queen's permission, but I was prepared for rejection.

However, unexpectedly, things progressed smoothly. It seemed that the other side was also struggling with how to start exchanges amidst the barrier between humans and monsters. Under the grand theme of "bridging the gap in common sense through a period of cohabitation to foster mutual understanding for the upcoming formal state-to-state exchanges," it was decided that I would live in their country's training facilities for over a month.

To repeat, there was anxiety.

Of course, there should be. After all, the other party was the country of 'monsters' who enjoy conflict. The very fact that monsters form a nation is incomprehensible, but considering their nature, it wouldn't be surprising if someone suddenly attacked in the middle of the street. If the attacker were a giant or a demon, it could be fatal. Despite these fears, I stepped into their country, more out of reckless courage than anything else.

However, there was only one reason for creating the pretext of state-to-state exchanges and visiting the land of monsters, knowing full well what it entailed.

I want to become stronger.

I want to gain the power to fight.

That was the sole driving force.

"Nice to meet you. My name is Balan Zayfrit. I am the one responsible for all aspects of the intercultural exchange program—your 'training.'"

The people of the monster kingdom were unexpectedly gentlemanly, and the training was hell. Moreover, it seemed they were not being merciless but were aware of their mercy. On the first day, I was made to realize that they were 'people from another world' with different common sense and values.

The days of hell continued. Not only those who fought on the front lines but also the magicians who supported from the rear were equally subjected to basic training. My childhood friend, a dwarf, ran with his short limbs as if it were a form of torture, but the intensity of the training did not lessen. Everyone was struggling to survive each day.

If such days continued, the body would inevitably reach its limit, but the honey wine provided by the deputy manager of the mansion healed us instantly. Thanks to this, we couldn't even collapse due to physical limits. Every day was dedicated to training except for meals and sleep.

But even so, no one gave up.

The instructors had said, "If it's too hard, you can quit," but everyone shook their heads. After the practical training, the fallen soldiers would mutter things like, "I thought I was going to die," "I felt like I died," "Just kill me," but even in such a dire situation, no one would say, "I want to quit."

What supported the hearts of these warriors was the memory of the past.

While living modest but peaceful days, the capital was engulfed in a sea of flames. The hunters and soldiers of Noblewood pursued the fleeing citizens. In the village where we barely escaped, we lived in fear, as if our necks were being slowly strangled. And—seeing the young queen, who bowed her head to the ground, pleading for help from a traveler.

"I want to become stronger."

Someone said it.

Everyone thought it.

"I need the power to fight."

At the very least, the strength to call oneself a warrior of the queen.

For that, I would do anything.

"This time, I want to protect."

That was what everyone here thought.

So.

This time, for sure.

Ferq, appointed as the leader of the warriors, with a firm resolve in his heart—

＋ ＋ ＋

"――――Oooohhh!!"

He let out a roar and charged forward. The trembling sound from his throat was a battle cry challenging the past. The warriors in white robes rushed out, with the leader, Ferq, leading the charge.

The support fire from the cluster of long staves followed, overtaking him. Wind blades, rock projectiles, fire arrows, and lightning spheres—all of these lower-tier elemental magic attacks from the rear guard of magicians struck the group in green robes.

However, the power of each attack was not significant. As expected, the barriers erected by the green-robed enemies deflected them all. But by diverting their attention and actions to the barriers, it hindered their counterattacks with magic and arrows. Seizing the opportunity created by the suppressive fire, the white-robed warriors closed in without slowing down. Ferq reached the enemy ranks and swung his staff-sword.

"Shii—!"

He exhaled sharply and unleashed a magic-infused staff-sword. The momentum of his charge barely allowed the enemy to parry the blow. On the other side of the clashing blades was the green-robed man, Celwin, the acting leader of the hunters, with his short sword drawn and trembling.

"How much... How much longer will you mock us...!"

His voice was low, as if seeping from the depths of the earth. There was a precariousness in it, like a bomb about to explode. Celwin, trembling with the clashing blades, distorted his handsome face with hatred.

They were not just standing there in shock because they were waiting on the invasion route. They were shocked to find that the ones standing in front of the hunters of Noblewood were, of all people, the commoners of Latestwood. After regaining their composure from the annoying suppressive fire, the shock turned into a surge of anger.

After all, the common soldiers of Latestwood were challenging the hunters of Noblewood, who had honed their skills for over a century. They showed no signs of buying time, meaning they intended to win with their own strength, not by relying on the 'traveler's' power. Their arrogance, not knowing their place, was worthy of death.

"Arrogant filth, don't get too cocky—Aaaah—!"

Finally, Celwin let his emotions explode and swung his blade wildly. Despite his inner rage, the sharpness of his sword skills was genuine. The upward slash from below, the straight thrust, the diagonal cut, and the decapitating strike—all were sharp enough to befit the lineage of a hunter leader, relentlessly attacking Ferq.

"Ku...!"

He parried, dodged, deflected, and barely avoided being hit. There was no room for ease. He was just barely hanging on. A moment of blinking could mean losing his head.

A blade came from above, describing an arc. Ferq barely blocked it with the base of his staff-sword, but the shock made his hand numb. He almost dropped his staff-sword but managed to hold on and counter with a short sword drawn from his waist. It was too short. Celwin's short sword, which had been switched to a reverse grip, blocked the thrust.

A follow-up attack came. But the next strike was not a blade but a kick from a close distance. The ribs made an unpleasant sound, and the air forced out of his lungs turned into a groan. Ferq clenched his teeth to endure the pain and pressed his floating foot back to the ground.

Another follow-up attack. The third strike was an upward thrust with the hilt of the reverse-gripped short sword. Aiming for the jaw, one of the vital points of the human body, Ferq dodged by leaning back, but a diagonal slash followed immediately. The slash, delivered with a wrist movement from close range, forced him to leap back quickly—

"――,!"

The cost of evading the lethal combo was an opening between them. Celwin extended his empty left palm straight forward. The gathering magical energy sent a shiver down Ferq's spine.

"Release the wind arrow!"

The spell was cast instantly, interrupting the rapid exchange of attacks. A wind attribute offensive magic, cast with abbreviated incantations, materialized amidst the high-speed combat.

Normally, casting magic requires some level of mental concentration, and building a spell during close combat is considered extremely difficult. Especially with abbreviated incantations, which are unreliable, it would be even more challenging. However, the elves, known for their magical prowess among the four major races of the continent, and the hunters of Noblewood, had the skill to overcome this difficulty.

A large arrow formed by wind magic struck Ferq, and fresh blood splattered.

"Ga, ah...!"

He twisted his body in an instant, but it was impossible to dodge at such close range. He avoided being hit in the head and the central part of his torso but was cut on the left shoulder. The white robe turned red, and the stain spread.

However, Ferq closed the distance with the enemy before checking his injuries. If he kept his distance, the enemy would use magic. In a magic duel, he would surely lose. While Ferq, a warrior who could use magic to some extent, was not on par with the lineage of a hunter leader.

The only way out was close combat, so he unhesitantly charged into the enemy's embrace.

Thus, the close combat resumed. Celwin's face became even more demonic, as if his pride had been wounded by the evasion of the lethal "Wind Arrow."

"Ha, ha, ha...! Ha, ah—!"

His breath was ragged. The slight delay in his response due to his disordered breathing caused a gash on his cheek. The blood splattered on his white robe, but he had no time to care. Another attack was coming. The target was his neck. He barely deflected it, crossing another line of death.

—Strong. Indeed, strong. The elves of Noblewood are arrogant purebloods, but their power, which once dominated the Great Tree Sea, is real.

Especially, they are a proud lineage. Their killing techniques, honed with the single-minded goal of avenging the humans who tarnished the history of Noblewood, are not just for show. Their dedication to revenge, abandoning peaceful days and focusing solely on vengeance, has been polished to an almost artistic level.

But—

"Not as strong as Gob Jiro...!"

The incoming sword strikes were indeed sharp enough to be fatal, but they could be avoided. Even if he couldn't dodge completely, he could block the blade, as proven by the dozens of exchanges. At least, there was no unreasonable force that could shatter bones in one hit.

The same applied to the magic the enemy excelled at. In a magic duel, there was no chance of winning, but if he kept the distance close and prevented the enemy from casting spells, he could continue the close combat. For a hunter