Chapter 133

Mikhail turned toward Ethan.

Ethan looked tense for some reason—but underneath it, a thread of quiet conviction showed through.

"Yeah. Go ahead."

Mikhail gave his permission, but instead of answering right away, Ethan hesitated and dropped his gaze at an angle.

It didn't last. He drew a deep breath and opened his mouth.

"I'm sorry. I think I've been holding you back."

"……"

"From now on, I won't overdo it. I'll be more mindful of where you stand, and I won't butt into your decisions or throw off your plans."

What settled between them was silence. Ethan tied off the last word and slowly raised his eyes.

Maybe it was because he'd laid everything bare without holding back. The weight pressing down on him felt noticeably lighter.

"……"

Ethan offered a faint smile to Mikhail, who stood frozen in place with wide eyes.

"Things won't be so difficult from here on."

Mikhail didn't add a word. He stood there like someone caught in a downpour from a cloudless sky—then quietly curled the fingers hanging at his side into a fist.

When his voice finally came, dry as a winter sky, it arrived only after a long pause.

"Okay. Got it."

Ethan looked at the person standing across from him. Mikhail gave the clipped reply, turned on his heel, and walked toward the front.

Toward the site of the next stage. The Cave of Contemplation. There was no hesitation in his stride.

"……"

Mikhail's back was about to disappear into the crowd preparing to enter the cave.

Then he stopped where he stood—unprompted—and added one more line in the same flat tone as before.

"Let's do well from here. Ethan."

---

After a final check on participant safety and supplies, the campaign organizers gave the signal to move out.

Members of every faction surrounded the transport carriage according to their assigned roles and stepped into the Cave of Contemplation.

Drrrrrr.

The carriage wheels rumbled across the cave floor.

Small blue mana stones dotted the long, dark-teal corridor like scattered pebbles, and crystals of varying sizes studded the ceiling of black rock.

"……"

Mikhail took up position at the rear of the advancing carriage.

Among the zones assigned to the defense unit, his was the spot that jutted furthest toward the edge.

It's the point where the nuisance beasts will swarm more often than anywhere else—but it gives me the best vantage to read the full picture.

Mikhail swept his head from side to side. The panoramic view stretched far enough to capture the front of the procession as it moved.

The layout of the terrain, the structural formations….

Every detail mirrored the familiar scenery he knew by heart—and Ethan's protagonist party, along with the members of each faction, were positioned exactly where the original placed them.

Mikhail had just let a satisfied hum slip out when murmuring voices from up ahead drifted to his ears.

"I was pretty nervous when they split us into new roles, but honestly? This is even tamer than the ruins."

"Hey, get your words right. Up until now it hasn't been 'tame'—it's been absolutely nothing."

"They said another thirty or forty minutes of walking puts us right at the basilisk's doorstep…. At this point, I'd rather it just stayed quiet so we don't waste energy."

"Wasn't the beast that showed up before the basilisk in last year's campaign some kind of black cave serpent? Think we'll get the same one this time?"

Mikhail listened to their chatter, then turned his eyes toward the corridor's edge.

The spot where the sunken cliff face dropped away.

He pictured the beast eyes that would soon rise from the darkness below, one by one—then faced forward again.

The first attack should start in about five minutes.

Mikhail gauged the approaching sequence and closed his hand.

Inside the quietly clenched fist, the mana coursing through his body was steadily building the strength of its pulse.

My job this stage is the same as before. Guide every critical juncture along the main storyline's flow.

Mikhail let a low breath slip between his lips, sealed the resolve in place, and pressed forward in silence.

Thud.

His footsteps had been repeating against the ground for some time when the air rushing across his face turned abruptly cold.

Grrrrk.

An alien noise jutted out like a stumbling block and wedged itself between the rattling friction of the carriage wheels.

Several people surrounding the carriage flinched, slowed their pace, and began scanning their surroundings.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just heard something weird…."

Grrrrrrk.

The earlier sound returned—louder, more distinct—as if to prove it had been no illusion.

The number of rigid expressions multiplied fast, and one set of footsteps after another ground to a halt.

Drrrr.

The carriage's speed dropped. Dozens of eyes locked onto the source of the noise.

The edge of the corridor they'd been walking along.

A cliff face of pure, unbroken black was where every gaze ended up.

"…No way."

Uneasy mutters slipped from a few throats, and ragged breathing sharpened by tension rose and fell from every direction.

The moment everyone surrounding the carriage reached for their weapons and braced—

GRRRRRR!

Dozens—hundreds—of beasts bristling with long, hooked claws began scrambling up the pitch-black slope at speed.

"Beast ambush! Everyone, prepare for combat!"

Sharp voices barking orders against the surge of creatures cut through the air in every direction.

SHRRRING!

Those encircling the carriage thrust their weapons toward the oncoming beasts. Blades materialized in the open air, screaming with the shrill ring of drawn steel.

"Damn it. They're climbing up from the cliff? What kind of beasts even are these…."

Most of the people with weapons drawn were rattled—thrown by the sudden shift and the unfamiliar enemy.

But even amid the chaos, some kept their composure.

"……"

Mikhail moved his steady gaze in a horizontal sweep, scanning the swarming beasts as they poured into view.

The creatures had the squat build of something halfway between a goblin and a frog.

I know what they are.

Cave wickeds—mid-to-low-tier beasts that nested near objects rich in mana, hoarding enchanted items to flaunt their strength and feed their greed.

Their target this time is the mana replenishment source loaded on the carriage.

Mikhail spared a glance at the glowing container atop the carriage, then fixed his eyes back on the teeming swarm.

Grrrrk.

The beasts rolled their teal eyeballs with naked greed—then surged forward like a bursting flood.

They lunged at the carriage carrying the replenishment source, at the transport balloon and its rigging, driving in with jagged teeth and hooked claws.

"……"

Mikhail watched the beasts descend like a plague of locusts, then extended his hand.

No need for the staff yet. Not now.

Blue mana crackled from Mikhail's fingertips.

KA-BOOM!

The instant his mana detonated against a beast's body, an equally massive explosion erupted at the front of the formation.

Mikhail pulled his gaze from the beast sent tumbling away and looked toward the distant front line.

The source of the sudden blast was Verte.

Verte was conjuring multiple mana spheres at once, shooting down the incoming beasts at rapid speed.

BOOM! BOOM!

Gasps of admiration leaked from the crowd amid the thundering impacts.

"W-whoa…. Look at that. One flick of the wrist and—how many drop at once?"

"Say what you will, the guy's got skill…. The rumors about being the magic research institute's elite weren't for nothing."

The announcer's voice, spilling from the organizers' position at the rear, wasn't about to be left out either.

"—Oh my! Incredible! Verte Fischer of the magic research institute's attack unit is tearing through the beasts at a staggering pace! The speed we're seeing right now surpasses even last year's famously strong performance! We have high expectations for his contributions!"

Scattered praise was still rippling through the air. Mikhail watched Verte continue to fire off mana without pause.

"……"

The same expressionless mask as always hung over the face watching his opponent's display.

But for a single instant, the flat line of his mouth dipped.

A persistent variable.

Mikhail muttered inwardly and pulled his fingertips back. Even as he calculated ways to curb Verte's momentum, a prickle of irritation was creeping up from a corner of his chest like mist off still water.

GRRRRRRR!

It happened in a flash. Killing intent—denser than anything before—stabbed at his skin, and a beast's roar ripped through his ears.

Mikhail shelved his thoughts on Verte and swung his awareness back to the battlefield at arm's reach.

GRRRK!

The scene before him had already spiraled into something far worse than what he'd faced moments ago.

Beasts emerging from the edges now included specimens of entirely new appearance, and they numbered three or four times the initial wave—pouring in from every direction.

BOOM! CRACK!

Mikhail fired mana without rest, cutting down the beasts as they dove in.

Even as the view around him shifted by the second, he checked the markers of the main storyline's progression one by one.

The speed of the advancing carriage. The types of beasts appearing at each point along the route. Salvator's rate of score increase. And….

The most critical element in the main storyline's progression.

Mikhail's gaze swept across Salvator's formation, tracking the trajectories of the lead and supporting cast as they wove between the beasts.

Lloyd's up ahead on the left. Dian, Albin, Nisha, Hailey… every one of them holding the right position.

The last place Mikhail's busy gaze came to rest was on Ethan's figure.

And the protagonist is properly positioned on the right flank, toward the inside.

Mikhail stared at Ethan's back as he swung his sword through the beasts without pause.

But the luxury of watching didn't last.

Mikhail sensed a jolt of killing intent climbing from the cliff on the right and whipped his hand out.

BOOM!

The discharged mana punched clean through the beast's body.

But instead of relief at the threat's removal, Mikhail's eyes flew wide and his body gave an involuntary flinch.

What the hell? At this point in the progression, they shouldn't be able to close that fast….

A trembling breath had just slipped between Mikhail's lips when—

GRRRRRRR!

Threatening howls erupted in rapid succession.

Mikhail snapped back to focus and thrust his hand toward the beasts barreling in after the first.

But the creatures moved faster than he'd anticipated.

A half-beat ahead—no, maybe a full beat faster than they should have—

THUNK!

The sharp sound of piercing flesh and the flash of silver light across Mikhail's vision arrived at the same instant.

"!"

The beast that had closed to arm's length froze mid-air.

A massive puncture wound carved itself into its body—and then, drained of all life, it listed toward Mikhail with a metallic groan.

WHAM!

The blade that had skewered the beast's torso pulled back in one swift motion, and a familiar boot drove hard into its body with a kick.

The beast tumbled end over end and crashed into a far corner.

Grrrrk….

Mikhail blinked, the words stolen clean from his face. He slowly lowered the hand he'd thrust forward.

The figure filling his forward gaze traced the outline of someone he knew well—and behind the eyes taking in that sight, a single question surfaced.

How did you… get over here?

Mikhail worked his lips open—still caught in the push and pull of unsteady breathing—and spoke the name of the person standing before him.

"Ethan."