Dusk, the Duchy of Uno border, the Mien Frontline.
The invaders from the Kingdom of Falor wore dark blue uniforms and held their nation's latest weapon high—the improved Bolt-Action Rifle, with its extended range—as they charged toward the border.
But they had only run halfway when fireballs began falling from the sky.
The two-meter-diameter fireballs appeared out of thin air, like miniature meteors, and crashed down toward the densely packed troops.
Boom!!
The fireballs exploded upon hitting the ground. Flames swept across the battlefield, blasting the enemy troops who had tried to charge into charred fragments.
This was the Uno Soldiers' counterattack.
On the distant frontline that was about to draw near, mages in grass-green uniforms could be seen casting spells.
The soldiers of the Kingdom of Falor were afraid, but they continued their fearless charge. The moment they saw the mages, one commander shouted toward them:
"The mages are over there! Concentrate fire!! Concentrate fire!!!"
Bang bang bang—!
In an instant, countless bullets poured toward the mages.
When the bullets struck the mage, a smooth Magic Shield appeared over their body, blocking every round.
But in the next second, the shield shattered beneath the dense rain of bullets.
The mage was also riddled with bullets.
There was nothing that could be done about it.
The effective range at which magic could function was within fifty meters.
But the Bolt-Action Rifles developed by the Kingdom of Falor had an effective range of up to six hundred meters!
If the mages cast their spells from farther away, their magic could not reach the enemy.
But if they stood closer...
They would end up like this—torn into bloody fragments amid the dense hail of bullets, dead beyond all hope!
Once firearms had been developed, mages lost their former dominance over the battlefield.
They were no longer lofty nobles, nor were they exalted spellcasters.
On the battlefield, they had only two possible identities.
The living.
Or the dead.
The death of the mage caused the border soldiers' morale to dip, but they quickly rallied.
On this bloody frontline, where countless people died every day, a mage's death was hardly worth caring about.
Compared to the mage's death, they were more concerned with how to fill the gap left behind.
Without the mage's support, the outdated firearms in their hands were no match for the enemy.
But fortunately...
They had not yet reached the end of the road.
Moments after the mage died, several Assault Squads from the Duchy of Uno also charged out of the trenches, rushing toward the enemy through a hail of bullets.
One four-man squad pushed the farthest ahead.
Three of them charged at the front, one carrying an iron shield while the other two carried rifles and provided support.
As they neared the enemy at the very front, a small figure suddenly darted out from within the formation!
Judging by his build, he appeared to be a boy.
He looked no older than thirteen.
He wore the Duchy of Uno's Dark Green Military Uniform, with the insignia denoting the rank of Sergeant sewn onto his thin shoulder.
The boy held a Military Dagger.
To everyone else, it was a dagger, but given the boy's height and age, it was practically a longsword.
The boy darted out of the formation with the blade in hand. Magic flickered along its edge, and beneath its chilling gleam, the blade swept straight across the enemy's throat!
Precise!
Swift!
From the moment he appeared to the instant he killed the enemy with a single slash, less than two seconds had likely passed. The enemy was already dead beneath the boy's blade!
Yet after killing one man, the boy did not stop.
He charged through the enemy's bullets toward his next target.
The blade in his hand was like the scythe of the Grim Reaper, harvesting lives. Wherever its gleam flashed, an enemy was sure to fall.
"Damn brat—!"
Some of the enemies realized the boy was there.
They swung their rifles toward him and opened fire, but the boy's small frame became an advantage at that moment.
As he twisted and dodged from side to side, he somehow evaded every bullet.
The enemy soon realized that the boy had a clear target: the commander of their squad!
"Don't let him get clo—!"
Someone shouted a warning, but in the blink of an eye, the boy, moving like a ghost, pierced his throat.
His warning had nevertheless drawn the squad leader's attention.
The Blonde Youth looked toward the figure charging at him beneath the fading light, and his pupils contracted slightly.
"Wolf of Mien...?"
He had clearly recognized the boy charging toward him.
It was none other than the enemy ace known as the Wolf of Mien on the Mien Frontline over the past year!
Although he looked small and childlike, he was said to be a genius who had immersed himself in magic for many years.
They said he was nearly forty years old, a battle expert invited by the enemy's royal family.
They said he maintained his youthful appearance because he enjoyed bathing in the blood of young girls.
They said...
No one targeted by him had ever made it off the battlefield alive.
The Blonde Youth stared at the boy charging toward him, but the corner of his mouth lifted in disdain.
The Wolf of Mien sounded terrifying, but now that he was seeing him in person, he was just a little brat who did not even look old enough to be an adult.
They were close enough that the Blonde Youth could make out the boy's features.
His skin was not especially pale, but compared to soldiers who constantly endured wind and rain, it was far too fair.
His hair was dark gold, the color worn by most nobles of the Duchy of Uno. It seemed he possessed a trace of Noble Bloodline as well.
His eyes were obscured by his hair, making their exact appearance difficult to discern, but from the faint glimmer visible beneath it, they appeared to be blue.
His features were delicate, even pretty. Though his face was smeared with dirt and blood, it could not hide those handsome features capable of driving young girls mad.
The Blonde Youth was not someone who judged others by their appearance.
But no matter how he looked at it, he did not believe that this thin, frail-looking little fellow could reach him and kill him.
Besides, at this moment, he hoped the other party would come closer.
At his waist was the New Model Revolver issued to every officer of Falor.
The bullets fired by this pistol were immensely powerful. Within ten meters, they could shatter the Magic Shield of a Title Rank mage!
As long as the Wolf of Mien dared to approach, he would turn this wolf into a dead wolf!
"He really is coming..."
The Blonde Youth had only imagined it in his mind. He had not thought the Wolf of Mien would actually regard him as an opponent.
After all, his position was relatively safe within the formation.
Yet the other party had truly treated him as prey and charged straight toward him!
"Hmph. You want to die."
The disdain at the corner of his mouth grew more pronounced. The Blonde Youth immediately raised his pistol and aimed it at the boy drawing closer and closer.
The distance between them was now less than ten meters. At this range, even a new recruit had a very high chance of hitting the enemy's vital point, let alone a trained royal officer.
The Blonde Youth aimed the muzzle at the boy's brow. As he watched the figure approach, he sneered inwardly.
"Become my Military Merit, Wolf of Mien!"
Though it was a little regrettable to kill such a "pretty little thing"—after all, many people among the kingdom's upper class liked boys of this type—there was nothing he could do. On the battlefield, the Blonde Youth could not afford to hold back.
Even though he did not think the Wolf of Mien was particularly formidable, he still had to be cautious and give the other party no opportunity.
The Blonde Youth moved decisively, drawing his pistol with extreme speed.
From drawing the pistol to aiming at the enemy took no more than a second. Then the gunshot rang out!
Bang!!
Propelled by a flash of fire, the bullet flew from the muzzle and shot toward the boy charging straight at him.
Unless something unexpected happened, at such close range the boy would certainly be shot through the head.
But in the next instant, the Blonde Youth's expression changed from smugness to astonishment, then to terror.
Crack—
The sound of a bullet piercing flesh did not ring out. Instead, something shattered.
It was a Magic Shield!
A mage's Magic Shield!
The Blonde Youth saw it clearly. The transparent Magic Shield only appeared when the bullet reached the boy.
The bullet shattered the Magic Shield, yet for some unknown reason, it veered aside and grazed the boy's cheek.
The bullet had not pierced the boy's forehead!
"Damn it—!"
Only after realizing this did the officer finally panic.
He controlled his right hand, bringing the arm that had been raised by the recoil back onto the boy.
Yet in less than a second, the boy had already reached him!
Clang—
The dagger swept through the setting sun, leaving a golden blade trail.
Drops of blood scattered in the sunlight like golden beads.
The Blonde Youth's neck was effortlessly severed by the dagger imbued with magic.
Title Rank.
Only a Title Rank mage could cast a Magic Shield without chanting at such a distance and make the bullet veer aside!
This brat who looked only thirteen or so was actually Title Rank?
That thought flashed through the Blonde Youth's mind as he looked toward the boy.
In the final moments of his life, the fallen officer saw the boy's eyes, blue as sapphires.
Those eyes held no emotion. As they looked at him, it was as though they were looking at a piece of trash casually discarded by the roadside.
After only one glance, the boy stepped over his body and sprinted toward the next target.
And that was the final scene the Blonde Youth saw before closing his eyes.