He shouted for ages, but there was no response behind him.
Had it been five seconds or seven? Training required them to reload in no more than three!
That bastard had missed such a perfect chance. Even as a ghost, he wouldn't let him off—wait. This wasn't a real battlefield.
As the heat of the moment passed, the cavalryman calmed down a little. Then he caught sight of his teammate approaching with a strange look on his face. There was a white mark across his chest. "You're the only one left."
"Huh?"
"Are you done hugging me?"
The elf he had in a death grip spoke coldly.
He jolted and hurriedly let go of the elf instructor.
"What's your name?"
Then he heard the elf instructor ask the question.
Furs's heart, which had yet to settle, began pounding again. It felt as though a warm spring breeze, fragrant with flowers, had brushed his face. "I'm Furs..."
"I'm Pike."
Their voices rang out at the same time. Furs looked up and realized the elf instructor was looking at Pike.
So she wasn't talking to me...
Furs covered his face in embarrassment and started walking away, only for his old friend to throw an arm around his shoulders.
"You did well. Shame you were just a little short!"
If one more of them had survived, Furs might really have taken the elf instructor down with him.
His old friend praised him, but his face was full of glee at Furs's expense. "Still, you're in trouble now."
"Huh?"
Furs searched his conscience. Apart from taking an extra second to load at the start because he'd panicked, he hadn't made any mistakes... Or was using a comrade as a shield the problem?
His old friend pointed to the elf instructor questioning Pike nearby. "Everyone