I leaned against the wall of the shaded cobblestone corridor, crossing my arms over my chest while keeping a watchful eye on the Middle Class Magic Training Field.
In this world, warfare is a grand stage for nobles wielding flashy elemental magic. They rain down fire, fire steel-cleaving magic cannons, and summon thunderstorms. In such warfare, mana-less infantry soldiers are nothing more than meat sacrifices sent to die.
At least, those were the rules before I changed history in my first life.
I remembered those bloody times. To save my soldiers' lives from the rain of magic projectiles, I introduced a crazy concept adopted from ancient history books: Trench Warfare.
I ordered my troops to dig networks of tunnels and defensive trenches like moles, allowing infantry to penetrate enemy defense lines without dying in vain. That revolutionary tactic was what got me appointed as Commander of the Special Forces Squad: The Deck Hounds.
And the very pulse of that muddy trench tactic was currently standing in the corner of the field over there.
Virelith Ashryn. A girl with thick glasses and an oversized academy robe.
Virelith was not an Arc Mage capable of blowing up mountains. Her magic elements were Earth and Dust. However, she possessed an anomalous talent that escaped the notice of the foolish instructors at this academy.
Virelith's magic casting speed was entirely abnormal. In the past, Virelith was my primary "architect," capable of building kilometers of defensive trenches amidst a rain of arrows in mere seconds.
My daydream was cut short when three noble female cadets approached the corner where Virelith was training.
"Oh, look at our construction worker playing in the sand," mocked one blonde female cadet, twirling a small fireball at her fingertip. "Earth magic is truly dirty and inelegant. Do you plan on becoming a gravedigger after graduating from here, Ashryn?"
Virelith did not answer. She merely exhaled a long sigh, staring at her wooden target dummy which she had just surrounded with a solid defensive stone wall.
"Oops, my hand slipped." The blonde cadet smiled wickedly, then threw her fireball.
BAM! Virelith's practice stone wall shattered into pieces, turning into dust and gravel. The three noble female cadets laughed condescendingly, satisfied seeing the poor girl's handiwork destroyed, then walked away with an arrogant swagger.
If this were a hero's tale, Virelith would surely cry or suddenly unleash a hidden power to beat them up. But the girl was highly pragmatic.
As soon as the nobles turned around, Virelith merely snorted wearily, adjusted her slipping glasses, and snapped her fingers at the stone debris.
Crack!
There was no long chanting. There were no tackily glowing magic circles. In just zero point five seconds, the gravel and dust fused back together, creating a stone wall far denser and sturdier than before.
That speed was completely unnoticed by the nobles who were already walking away.
I smiled in satisfaction. Still as fast as I remembered.
Once the field began to clear out, Virelith packed her parchment bag and walked down the path behind the field. I stepped out from the shadow of the pillar, cutting off her path.
Virelith was startled. She took a step back, her eyes narrowing as she glared at me from behind her spectacle lenses. Everyone in the academy knew who I was. The crazy Outcast Cadet who had just returned from the Forbidden Forest and given the instructors a massive headache.
"Stay away from me, Draven," snapped Virelith, hugging her parchment bag tightly like a shield. "I want nothing to do with you. Your bad luck is contagious, and I do not plan on dying young by being near Orvelis Nightbane's hunting target."
I ignored her rejection and hostile aura. Instead of wooing her with sweet words, I threw a tactical question straight at her like a construction foreman.
"How many seconds do you need to dig a dirt trench two meters deep and twenty meters long, with soil wall density sufficient to withstand the impact of a magic cannonball?"
Virelith's eyes widened. Her mouth opened slightly. She prepared to shoo me away again, but her magic instincts and pragmatic brain were somehow provoked by that specific question.
"Three seconds," she answered reflexively, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion. "Six seconds if the soil structure is rocky. But wait a minute, why is a problematic cadet asking about... digging holes?"
I grinned broadly. Three seconds. That speed was even faster than my memory in the past. This girl was truly a treasure wasted by the academy curriculum.
"I need a Combat Field Engineer. I am offering you a job," I said, stepping closer to her.
Virelith snorted roughly, rolling her eyes. "A job? What job? Being your gravedigger? No, thank you. I came to this academy to graduate with standard grades, become a civil servant in the capital, and live a quiet life on a pension. I have no interest in digging holes for a person whose tombstone has already been ordered!"
This girl was truly pragmatic to the bone. She rejected me with a highly logical argument. Unfortunately for Virelith, I knew exactly her biggest weakness in my past life.
I reached into my robe, pulled out a thick dark leather pouch, and threw it right into Virelith's arms.
Thump!
"Ow!" Virelith nearly fell over because the pouch was much heavier than she expected. She caught it in panic. The very distinct and melodious sound of clinking metal was heard from inside the pouch.
Virelith hesitated for a moment, then loosened the pouch strings and peeked inside. Her eyes instantly went perfectly round, nearly touching her thick glasses. The gleam of dozens of pure gold coins bearing the explorer guild's stamp reflected the afternoon light. It was a large portion of the proceeds from selling the fangs and the Wyrm's Eye that Ragnar gave me.
"I-is this... are these real gold coins? Did you rob the academy bank?!" squeaked Virelith holding back a scream, staring at me with horror mixed with awe.
"This is not from a robbery," I said coldly. "That is the down payment for your job."
Virelith swallowed hard, her hands trembling holding a pouch whose value equaled a civil servant's salary for ten years.
"Those foolish nobles might only consider your element as dirty magic," I continued, staring sharply into her eyes. "But to me, your magic speed is the lifeblood that will ensure my group stays alive on the battlefield. Join me. Be my support mage. I will pay you a fair price, and I guarantee, not a single noble fly will dare ruin your stone wall again without losing their hands."
Virelith stared at the gold coins in her hand, then stared at my face. Her pragmatism was fighting a fierce battle against the temptation of instant wealth.
I did not give her time to debate.
"I give you time to think. If you want to live as a wealthy predator, instead of being a pebble continuously stepped on... meet me on the roof of the south dormitory at midnight tonight," I said softly, before turning and leaving her still standing frozen on the path.
Baiting the ash mage was done. Now, I only needed to hope she was greedy enough to come.
While that strange negotiation took place inside the middle-class area, outside the high walls of the Aethelgard Military Academy, the night began lowering its curtain of darkness.
The wind blew cold past the pine trees in the Outskirts Forest. Upon the branch of one of the tallest trees aiming straight at the academy's main gate, someone was crouching in silence.
The man was dressed entirely in black. His leather clothing was designed not to reflect moonlight, and a cloth veil covered him from his nose to his neck. On the slightly exposed side of his neck, a black tattoo in the shape of a stone tower was clearly imprinted.
The absolute symbol of the Black Tower Assassin Association.
The narrow-eyed man held a parchment scroll containing a profile and a facial sketch of his target. He read the name "Kael Draven" written beneath the sketch, then snorted condescendingly. His voice sounded hoarse.
"Ten thousand pure gold coins," mumbled the hired killer, shaking his head. "Orvelis Nightbane is willing to throw away that much wealth just to slaughter a Basic Class dog rumored to be severely injured? Nobles are truly creatures who do not know how to value money."
The Assassin crumpled the parchment until it was destroyed, letting its fragments be carried away by the night wind.
He stared at the giant iron gate of the Aethelgard Academy, guarded by a dozen elite knights and layered with a high-level magical alarm array. Infiltrating the largest military academy in the empire was a suicide mission for an ordinary thief.
However, he was no ordinary thief. He was the shadow of death itself.
The man dropped his body from the tree branch. Just before his body hit the grassy ground, a dense black mana glow enveloped him.
Literally, the man's physical body melted and flattened against the ground, turning into a dark two-dimensional shadow. The shadow crept smoothly across the grass, slipped past the iron fence gaps of the academy gate, glided right beneath the boots of the guard knights without making the slightest sound, and passed the magical alarm line without triggering a single spark of warning.
A professional bounty hunter had infiltrated the cage. And tonight, his sword aimed for the neck of Kael, who was in his most broken physical condition.