Chapter 33: Academy Main Building (1)

Once the plan was finalized, everything else unfolded with surprising speed.

There was little time to prepare.

We did what we could to get into top condition—confirming that our wounds had healed, receiving the chieftain’s miraculous blessings, and organizing our supplies. Before we knew it, the afternoon sun was already upon us. Thanks to the chieftain’s nearly self-draining effort to bestow miracles, Felice and I were finally in something close to peak physical and mental shape.

Time was slipping through our fingers.

After scarfing down what the rotted-face people had wracked their brains to produce as the best possible lunch, and brushing up on the handful of mysteries I’d learned, I suddenly realized we were already standing at the edge of the forest.

A final check of gear and supplies.

We had changed into our spare clothing—light armor made of leather and cloth, same as before. A small buckler was strapped to my left arm for parrying; I’d gotten used to the setup by now.

My weapons were, of course, the runic dagger taken from Aldrich and the runic knives seized from Jack.

Three hastily assembled homemade stun grenades, four crude explosives.

Three powerful healing potions, each made from nearly half of the rotted-face people’s remaining medicinal herbs. One invigorating potion personally prepared by the chieftain, capable of temporarily boosting alertness and potential. Emergency bandages and gauze.

A short cloak was slung across my back. Though it looked small, it could be unfolded into a large piece big enough to cover one person completely. It had been enchanted with the last remnants of purifying power from the chieftain’s supply of translucent stone, granting brief protection against poison or other extreme conditions. A matching face mask, processed with the same technique, hung from my neck.

Felice’s kit was nearly identical to mine. Her weapon was the best fine steel rapier the settlement could offer. I gave her one of the remaining throwing knives as well. On a side note, after much urging from both of us, she finally relented and added a pair of skin-tight leather pants under her skirt. No more bare legs.

In just half a day, the entire rotted-face community had mobilized. Half were busy constructing traps and other defenses, while the rest either modified existing items or rushed to produce entirely new ones. They poured everything they had into preparing us for the journey.

At this point, they had done more than enough.

So when it came time to depart, there was no need for speeches.

Looking back, the outermost trees of the forest felt like a dividing line. 

On one side stood Felice and me; on the other, the rotted-face people gathered to see us off. Booker and Jelena were among them, gazing at us with complicated expressions. Mizan wasn’t there—his will had utterly collapsed, and he remained in bed—but aside from him, this was practically the entire village.

‘It’s like they’re sending us to our graves.’ 

The thought surfaced in my mind, only to be forcefully suppressed. Now was not the time for such nonsense.

“Hey!”

Booker suddenly raised his voice, drawing my attention.

“Anyway… ah, fuck… I’m no good with words… just don’t die, okay, Yuhong? No matter what, you’re the one who saved my life.”

Then Jelena.

“Y-You have to come back safe! We’ll do our best to hold this place, so you two better give it your all too!”

Simple words of encouragement.

Probably spoken half out of obligation, half from the heart.

Even so, I couldn’t help but smile and give them a thumbs-up.

No joke—this really might be the last time we ever see each other. I didn’t want to leave with a stiff, sour expression.

Felice mimicked me and raised a thumbs-up of her own. Her face, however, remained solemn.

***

“It’s a spitter. Yuhong, what do we do?”

“Let it pass. Avoid combat if we can.”

Felice and I lay low behind a large boulder on the gravelly riverbank beyond the ruins of the town, watching as a poison-spitting lizard-like fog fiend slithered past.

That made it roughly the thirtieth fog fiend we’d seen on this journey.

And we hadn’t even reached the town yet.

Just like the scouts reported, the fog fiends had grown more active, drifting away from the ruined town. Every one we’d encountered so far had begun to move with a shared intent, unlike the sluggish, brain-dead state they’d previously displayed.

We couldn’t afford to waste time on them now.

This was a decapitation mission—there was only one target.

The Mist King.

The alchemist who might go by the name Ian.

“Left side’s clear, fog fiends are all gone. What about you?”

“Same here. Let’s move?”

“Go!”

We darted from behind the boulder, weaving between withered trees and jagged rocks, slipping past the patrolling monsters as we infiltrated the ruined town.

We didn’t exchange a single word of small talk on the way. Aside from essential coordination, neither of us spoke.

I had this sinking feeling that if I opened my mouth, I’d pour out all the fear and uncertainty I was trying to hold in.

Can we really pull this off? Can we win? What kind of monster are we about to face? Will we survive? Is this even worth risking our lives for? Should we plan our tactics now, or adapt on the fly? Will we even know how we died?

Can we really protect everyone from the fog fiends?

Slipping through the narrow alleyways of the ruined town, the deeper we went, the heavier the dread grew in my chest. It felt like the pressure was squeezing my guts into a knot.

Carrying the lives of over a hundred people—it hurt more than I ever expected.

“…Yuhong?”

Suddenly, Felice grabbed my hand.

Startled, I thought we’d walked into a horde of fog fiends and immediately glanced around, but there was nothing.

She had simply taken my hand.

“What is it, Felice?”

“Um…”

She opened her mouth, as if trying to speak, but then a troubled look flickered in her eyes. Whatever words she’d tried to form caught in her throat.

“…Anyway, let’s do our best, Yuhong!”

After all that effort, that was all she managed to say.

“Yeah. Let’s do our best.”

A simple phrase, nothing special—yet somehow, her voice eased the weight in my heart just a little.

***

Time slipped by in silence.

At first, we crept forward with utmost caution. But before long, we were moving at a normal walking pace.

The number of fog fiends inside the ruined town had dropped drastically—so few, in fact, that we no longer had to actively avoid them. The interior of the ruins was now far safer than its outskirts.

Which was anything but a good sign.

The fewer fog fiends left inside, the more there would be swarming toward the forest soon.

We skirted the stragglers, passing one crumbling building after another, parting layer upon layer of dry, dead branches—deeper, ever deeper, into the heart of the ruins.

Two and a half hours after we set out, we finally reached a place neither of us would ever forget.

The academy’s outer plaza.

The place where Rena had died.

The signs of our battle with Aldrich remained untouched—large swaths of shattered paving stones, broken statues and houses around the square, grimy patches of blood still wet in the cracks. Every trace whispered of the brutal fight that had taken place.

I wanted to find the spot where Rena died protecting me. To kneel, pay tribute, do something. But sentiment like that would only move me. What we lacked most now was time. Slaying the Mist King was the only proper offering we could make to the dead.

So now, Felice and I stood side by side.

In front of us was the shattered ruin of the academy gate.

Beyond it was the wide road leading to the front doors of the main building.

No guards. No movement. The academy loomed silently in the distance, waiting for the next victim to step forward.

We’d taken a bit longer than planned. If we translated our departure time into Earth terms, we’d left around 1 p.m. It was now roughly 3:30. That left two to three hours before the expected fog fiend horde reached the forest. Factoring in any unforeseen delays, we had just two hours to explore the building, locate the boss, and kill it on the spot.

“Ready, Felice?”

“Ready.”

“Then—let’s go!”

***

At the forest’s edge, defensive structures under construction—

“Sigh…”

“You’ve been sighing non-stop.”

“Is it bothering you?”

“Not really. Suit yourself.”

Jelena let out another long breath, then hefted a heavy stake and drove it into the soft earth, swinging a sledgehammer down to bury it deep. Her physical strength was slightly above average for a girl her age, but still far better than the rotted-face people, whose bodies had been ravaged by toxins.

Beside her, Booker dug into the soil with a shovel, widening the trench in front of them. Over the past decade, the rotted-face people had built an array of defenses at the forest’s edge—trenches, tripwires, traps. But with their limited manpower and fragile health, the quality of these defenses had always been questionable. That’s why Booker and Jelena had joined in today, patching up what they could. Every bit helped.

They worked hard, but manual labor wasn’t enough to shake the anxiety churning in their hearts. The string of disasters and shocks had left them numb to reality. Their feelings toward the looming crisis were, at best, reluctant resignation.

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Hey, am I kinda useless?” Booker said suddenly.

“Huh?” Jelena looked at him like he’d grown another head. What the hell was this rough, hot-headed guy going on about all of a sudden?

“I mean… ugh… honestly, I kind of hate myself right now.”

“Why?”

“Look, I’m not like Yuhong or Felice, I can’t fight like they can, I’m not that smart either, and even as support, I’m barely pulling my weight.”

“If that’s the standard, then I’m no better. Why beat yourself up comparing yourself to geniuses?”

“I know that! But, but—damn it, I know! I know it’s not Yuhong’s fault the toxins ruined our bodies or that Rena died. I know that. I just feel useless. And it pisses me off.”

“Are you asking me for comfort?”

“No, I’m just venting, that’s all.”

“Oh.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Come on, say something.”

“You are asking for comfort, aren’t you?”

“Shut up! Fuck!”

“Just so you know, I suck at comforting people. And to be honest, I didn’t even fight Aldrich. I was rescued by Zhou Yuhong right away. So… I still haven’t really come to terms with Rena’s death.”

“Then why—”

“Instead of getting caught up in all that, maybe focus on what’s in front of us. We’re the ones staying behind, so we’ve got to do our part—hold the line with the rotted-face people until those two kill the boss.”

“There’s only so much we can do out here. Tch. If only I were as strong as them.”

“You should think of it like this: this is a glorious mission only we can do. The exclusive, limited-edition team of Jelena and her loyal sidekick, Booker!”

“Fuck, who are you calling your sidekick!?”

“Then get back to work! You’re slacking!”

“Yeah, yeah! Heh, guess venting to you does make me feel a bit better.”

“Don’t treat me like your emotional garbage bin.”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“Hey, do you think they’ll win?”

“Let’s hope so.”

“Then what about us? If they lose, how long can we hold out?”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…”

“…Who knows? All we can do is believe in them.”