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“Amazing…” Gran Grand, the leader of the Silver Rank Adventurer Team, Eight-Headed Peacock, muttered in shock.

Gran Grand was a battle-hardened warrior who’d survived numerous near-death experiences. His armor was worn-out and the buster sword in his hand was etched with countless small scars. But even this warrior, whose eyes were dropping from his old age, couldn’t help but open them wide in amazement.

The Eight-Headed Peacock was a team made up entirely of old warriors who’d fought countless battles in the past.

Although old age had robbed them of their strength, their experience was not something the younger ones possessed. Gran was the one who led this group of eight old warriors, and out of all, he was the most cunning.

He wouldn’t guide his team into a losing battle, and he was also willing to sacrifice any other team if this led to Eight-Headed Peacock’s survival. Despite this, every member had followed Gran without raising a single objection. They too realized that there was a wall separating them from the Gold Rank Adventurers and the heroes.

As such, being cunning was an essential trait for any warrior wishing to survive in this Demon-infested world. It was something that everyone who’d been an adventurer for a while had to have in them.

“Gran. What’s that? I don’t remember there being a mage of this caliber in the Empire.” Besides Gran, the vice leader of the Eight-Headed Peacock asked. His voice was somewhat hoarse due to swinging his axe around.

“That’s the famous Angel. I thought it was just some stupid rumor, but it turned out to be true. We might just turn the tides of this battle.” Gran said with a broad smile as he wiped the sweat and blood from his forehead.

Although he knew that there was no turning the tide, Gran was in a cheeky mood and couldn’t help but make a remark about the current situation.

“If it isn’t the old peacocks. I’m surprised you still haven’t kicked the bucket!”
“Seems like the cats are here too,” Gran said, looking around.

He saw the leader of the Silver Rank Adventurer Team Silver Cat Myriad, Val Orelio, and his friends jump in to help them. The five young adventurers wielded thin, claw-like swords. Although they were newbies that had risen to Silver Rank in just a year. However, despite this, they were already covered in wounds. And on closer inspection, Gran saw that two members of their team were missing.

Gran couldn’t help but click his tongue. He didn’t hate the Silver Cat Myriad. Rather, he was pissed that these young men were fighting in this hellhole.

“You fools! I told you brats to stay out of this! Only geezers like us should be fighting in this suicidal war!”
“Save your b̲u̲l̲l̲s̲h̲i̲t̲! Damn geezers like you have no right to tell us what to do. We’ll choose where to die! This is our turf! We won’t be able to sleep knowing we’ve left it to you old b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲s̲!”
“What did you just say?!”
“Besides, it’s not just us! The Lions and the Flashes are here as well! There’s a ton of other reckless b̲a̲s̲t̲a̲r̲d̲s̲ all over the place!”
“What?!”

Gran’s eyes widened in shock.

The teams that Val was referring to were all formed by young adventurers with promise. All of them were newcomers whom Gran had advised the day before not to take part in this fight. Though now it would seem that Gran’s words had fallen on deaf ears.

“You…” Gran scratched his head, feeling a mix of frustration and concern.

Everywhere Gran looked, all he could see were fools. Surveying the surroundings, he witnessed genuine idiots who stood up for their families and their empire, without any regard for their lives.

Gran himself had been troubled by the fact that he was losing his edge. Though he’d at last chosen a decent site to die, guarding his hometown, he had started to regret not being able to enjoy some ale tomorrow.

Yet, right now that disappeared. He was inspired by these young warriors, who possessed even more passion than himself. They filled Gran with courage and a sort of cheerful resignation.

Gran showed a faint slime under his shaggy beard and yelled. He tightened the grip on his sword. “Fine then! If it’s come to this, we won’t lose! We’ll show you our adventurer’s spirit! Don’t let that Angel steal our feats!”

The Peacocks, Cats, Lions, and Flashes all gathered. Although not the strongest, all of them were excellent Silver Rank teams. It was unlikely they would be able to break through, but if they worked together, they would surely be able to deliver a decent blow to the Demon horde.

Adventurers were different from ordinary soldiers. They were warriors in the truest sense of the word, having spent their lives battling Demons daily. Despite this, in the next moment, Gran’s head was sent flying. And not just his. Val’s head flew, together with the heads of all the Lions and Flashes.

The heads were neatly separated from the torsos, and they spun in circles through the air. It had all happened in an instant. So quick that none of them could even feel their deaths.

The last thing Gran’s eyes caught was…

“A masked m… man…”

◇◇◇

The battle formations were in disarray. The uncoordinated Demon army selfishly trampled and defiled the land of Ulbdor as it wished, slipping through the slightest gaps in the human’s defense.

(It’s the most atrocious war I’ve witnessed since the Elugor Disaster.)

Without wiping the beads of sweat from her forehead, Seletina continued to reap Demons one after another. In response to her fierce and stormy battle spirit, the Sacred Sword Elyutinias gleamed brightly.

Before she knew it, Seletina could no longer see her allies around her. Yet, she did not retreat, waiting for Imitia, standing behind her, to unleash her spell. But no matter how long Seletina waited, Imitia’s spell did not come.

However, Seletina was unaware that time was moving much more slowly because her senses were so keenly attuned.

(What’s taking Imitia so long?!)

Seletina cursed in her mind with no one to answer that question. Or maybe, there was one.

“Her spell will take a bit more, Orthus. But don’t stop doing your best.” a voice echoed in Seletina’s ear, and she felt a delicate touch on her shoulder. The voice was faint and awfully cold.

Seletina recognized that voice, and immediately swung Elyutinias towards its owner. However, Elyutinias’ blade only cut through the air, completely missing its mark.

Seletina stared at the monochrome girl in front of her with her deep-blue eyes that were filled with murderous intent.

“Dicentraaaa!!!”

The Witch of Black and White, Dicentra, giggled and showed a smile that was hardly befitting this battlefield.