The Pursuers Attack

The train was traveling along a mountain pass, with a steep cliff on one side and a towering rock face on the other.

Between the iron-gray cliffs, two fine steeds carried their riders at a gallop toward the tracks. Like mountain goats, they sprang lightly from one rocky crevice and landed with the precision of swallows on another outcrop.

Running along a rocky cliff fast enough to catch up with a train was clearly no ordinary feat for a horse.

The supernatural creatures of this world were roughly divided into three ranks: [spirit beasts/psionic creatures], which brought great calamity; [phantasmal beasts/fantasy creatures], which ordinary people considered imaginary; and [divine beasts/mythical creatures], which existed only in legends.

In this age, when the supernatural had receded beneath the world's surface, even phantasmal beasts had become rare.

Take dragons, for example. Ancient Dragons were mythical creatures, while Wyverns and Earth Dragons were phantasmal beasts. Dragon Beasts, on the other hand, were all classified as spirit beasts. But dragonkin were among the mightiest of all supernatural creatures, so they weren't a fair comparison.

Wargs were spirit beasts too, but a pack of them would be nothing more than a hearty meal for a Lion Dragon.

The nimble horses before them were called Shadow-Flying Colts. They were bred by crossing a spirit beast known as a Pegasus with a pure-black mare. They hadn't inherited their father's ability to fly through the sky, but they had inherited the gift of reducing the effects of gravity on themselves.

Lude knew all this because, in Siana's memories, the Black Tide Society had kept a herd of Shadow-Flying Colts.

In other words, the Black Tide Society's agents had caught up with them.

The Black Tide Society chairman's Elite Guard had ten members, and they operated in pairs. That was a very Arcanist way of doing things.

Arcanists were born from intense desire. Almost all of them were neurotic obsessives, accompanied by varying degrees of manic depression, isolation, and split personalities. Expecting them to tolerate one another was more or less impossible.

That was why Arcanists usually worked alone or in pairs, and never in groups larger than five.

Unfortunately, Siana hadn't been part of the field team, so she didn't know much about the Elite Guard's actual operations and couldn't explain them to Lude. She had, however, given him some very useful information: Elite Guard teammates often had ways of coordinating their tactics.

That meant that, whether they were Arcanists or not, a pair of Elite Guard members could achieve a result greater than the sum of their parts.

Just as the Shadow-Flying Colts swept past the train, one figure leaped high into the air with their hands behind their back and landed lightly atop the front of Lude's train car. Another, slightly smaller figure followed close behind. The air stirred up by the train whipped their coats with a crackling snap.

It looked like a tough fight was coming, but Lude had the advantage of knowing who his enemies were while they knew nothing about him. This fight was winnable.

Lude tugged the bell, summoning the head attendant.

"Vernon," Lude said, his eyelids half lowered. "Bring me lunch. I have a few friends coming to see me shortly."

"Ah, yes, of course." Vernon hurriedly bowed, oily sweat slowly beading on his cheeks. "Um, sir, how many servings should I prepare? You know, there might not be enough time now, and I..."

"One serving." Lude watched the three figures drawing closer. "Don't prepare lunch for them."

"I have enough bullets on me to fill them up."

"..." Vernon visibly choked. After nodding and bowing, he dashed away in a panic.

Once Vernon was gone, Lude rose to his feet. He hadn't asked for food because he wanted to cosplay Guan Yu warming wine before slaying Hua Xiong. In truth, the price of his body's incredible capabilities was that it burned several times more calories than an ordinary person's.

That hardly bothered him. Lude had always loved good food; it was only in his previous life that he'd been afraid to eat too much because of his figure and his health.

Of course, this body could also absorb an astonishing amount of fuel. If he couldn't get regular food, butter and alcohol would do in a pinch. If things got desperate, he could even chug a couple of bottles of kerosene. Lude just really didn't like abusing his taste buds.

But that was for after the fight. With that thought, Lude's figure flashed and disappeared from the train car.

The coal tender was the part of a train immediately behind the locomotive.

This old-fashioned train ran on a steam engine, which needed coal and water to produce steam. The coal tender stored both, allowing the fireman to shovel coal and add water to keep the train running.

Hardworking laborers were usually the only people found here, but today it had a pair of very different visitors.

A neatly dressed man and woman had appeared among the workers at some point. By the time the workers noticed that someone seemed to have slipped in, the two figures had already disappeared into the crowd like ghosts, leaving behind only a few fading footprints to prove they hadn't imagined it.

As they entered the passenger carriage, the pair took off their coats in unison, revealing their appearances.

The man looked somewhat older. Beneath his brown deerstalker cap, he had short, light-brown hair and a resolute face. His crisp white linen shirt and light-brown waistcoat gave him a sharp, professional look, and his dark-brown trousers, creased with folds, were paired with square-toed leather shoes.

In contrast to the man's composure, the girl beside him, who might not have been half his age, looked far more fashionable.

Her ivory-white shirt strained tightly across her chest, and its hem was tucked into the waistband of her olive-green bloomers. The legs of her trousers were tucked into a pair of knee-high, dark-brown leather boots. Her honey-colored hair was cut very short, and a mad grin graced her pale face.

It was obvious that this man-and-girl duo, so out of place among the refugees around them, were the agents sent to pursue Lude.

The man was named Brandon Bondo Fischer. He was thirty-six and had worked for the Black Tide Society for a full twenty years. The girl was Polina Daining. She was sixteen and had only joined the Society two years ago, yet she had already earned a place in the Elite Guard.

"Hey, Brandon." The girl put her hands on her hips and looked at the man beside her. "Same old tactics as before?"

Brandon sighed helplessly. "I'm your senior and your mentor, at least call me something more respectful than 'hey'... Never mind. We'll use the same tactics as before. It doesn't matter if they're old, as long as they work."

"Got it." Polina raised a hand and flexed her fingers. Pale skin showed beneath her fingerless leather gloves.

[Death-Defying]—!

A tiny wooden figurine, about the size of an index finger, appeared without a sound. It was crude, lacking even a face or limbs.

"Go to the carriage at the back and find someone at least one meter ninety tall." Polina whispered to the figurine. A line of characters appeared on it at once. Then Polina looked around and fixed her gaze on a boy of about thirteen or fourteen.

She grabbed him by the collar and yanked him over. Before he could react, she pressed the figurine against his forehead.

The figurine didn't hesitate for a moment. It slipped easily into his forehead.