Forty-five minutes ago...

----------------------------------------

Hope and Inghild ran down several hallways in a desperate search for Ava Andersson. From then on, the duo checked every room they stumbled into, adjusting their pace ever so often.

Eventually, they arrived at the spot where Gawain and Ludwig rested, their bandaged wounds and streaks of red blood across the hallway signified the difficult battle they'd gone through.

At that time, there were no medics by their side, as ordered by Richarde Andersson himself. The medics balked at the order at first but acquiesced after some thought.

"Inghild, Hope!" Ludwig waved a hand in the duo's direction and called their names. The man himself sat next to Gawain after he'd treated him, bandaged his torso neatly and pinned the clean cloth he procured from a nearby room.

"How's your injury?" asked Inghild.

"...Been better," replied Gawain perfunctorily. "Don't worry. I'm tougher than I look."

"But they said you got stabbed—"

"It's nothing serious. My wound already healed anyway."

"...Huh?"

"I got hit in the chin though." Ludwig sighed after he rubbed his chin. "That woman sure knows how to fight. Then again, I'm fairly certain everyone in their unit can do pretty much what she did to both of us. We got swept, just like that."

Hope stared at Franucci Tergett's corpse and tried to discern what exactly happened. Ava and Ludwig fought the Officer and in the end, Gawain flitted in time to help take her down. But where did Ava went?

"To answer your question, she went right over there in that hallway. Yes, past all the blood and gore you're seeing," explained Ludwig, pointing at a hallway fifteen meters to their left.

"...You're searching for her, huh?" said Gawain to both Hope and Inghild.

"I want to help her."

"Boss's order. Can't say no."

Ludwig and Gawain looked at each other after hearing their reply. One wanted to do it because he felt he had to, while another obliged because searching for Ava was part of his job.

Post-haste, Hope and Inghild continued their search for Ava, following the bloody trail the little girl had incurred. More mutilated bodies appeared before them as they pushed on, but with how complicated the interweaving hallways were, and how onerous this task proved to be, Hope knew it would take longer to find her.

While this had strained the young blonde boy, he didn't dare to spare a thought into it. Ava needed help in some form and he'd taken their promise quite seriously. To falter merely due to exhaustion and numbing muscle pain would only cause him to renege on such a promise.

He had to go—move onward towards the goal within sight. Inghild saw the determination in Hope's eyes and allowed himself to smile, taking in every bit of courage he could to wade past the bloody track.

"Hope, wait!"

Inghild grabbed Hope with one hand and pulled him close to a wall. Surreptitiously, they peered over to a destroyed section to their right.

The nursery purposed for treatment and recently, the nurturing of orphans who'd lost their family through the Great Corporate United's attack was filled with dead soldiers.

These were Vlad's subordinates, members of the Second Squad. In the blood-painted walls of the nursery, a tall, slender woman in black stepped on a body lying on the mahogany floor. She tilted her head at six others sprawled at awkward angles, signifying that the enemy had broken their joints.

"Ah, two more over there. Put up more of a fight than these guys, okay?"

The woman with her fringe clipped to the side, Officer Milloula Friegeaux suddenly flitted to Inghild's location and performed a quick jab to his chest—too fast for him to even sidestep.

Unauthorized use of content: if you find this story on Amazon, report the violation.

"Shi—" In that crucial moment, Inghild tried to counter with a straight punch, but his body suffered from hard kicks almost immediately. And a roundhouse kick to the face followed by a herculean side kick to the torso sending him crashing into a bookshelf, in a civilian's room.

Hope raised his assault rifle and brought its muzzle parallel to Milloula a few meters away. While his attempt to shoot could succeed, however, he realized Milloula was out of his league. He couldn't win against her.

The woman pulled the rifle's handguard from pointing at her and leaned close to the boy's face.

"You're quite cute... If you're a bit older, I might just fall for you at first glance." Milloula lifted Hope with both hands and threw him onto the floor with a thud. The boy gasped for air, stood up, and thrust a military knife at his assailant.

"Close."

The blade fell off his hand with a mere swipe from Milloula. Seeing the dispirited expression on Hope's face, Milloula licked her lips and cupped the blonde's face with her free hand.

"Don't make that face. You might just actually make me want you for myself, right here and now. Please, I'll not be able to contain myself in taking my time killing you slowly."

"Get lost," spat Hope.

"...I would, but after I'd taken you to somewhere a bit more private so that I can gouge those eyes of yours."

Hope kicked the woman's knee and her grasp loosened. Enough for him to slip away to check on Inghild's condition.

"Hey, can you get up?" Inghild took Hope's hand, just when blood spluttered forth from Hope's trapezius muscle.

A jet-black military knife stabbed through Hope's shoulder, with Milloula's finger running down its length. She yanked the knife out from Hope's shoulder with a tremendous amount of force. The knife tore through his flesh like it was butter, rendering him unable to fight Milloula and the swarm of enemies breaking through their base with ease.

Hope's body lay on the ground, as Milloula sauntered over to her next victim. The blonde boy was barely staying conscious despite the immense pain.

A momentary silence fell across the trashed civilian room.

Inghild had to fight the monster in front of him regardless of the odds, and so he lunged with outstretched hands.

Milloula tilted her body to the side enough to avoid the attack, her hand rising up to stab at Inghild. Swiftly, she jammed the knife downwards and Inghild rolled out of the room into the hallway. Unfortunately, the knife cut into his biceps in time, his movement became stiff, and he nearly fell for a follow-up axe kick after Milloula's initial attack.

Milloula sent a flurry of kicks after Inghild and he leaped backward. Taking into account that engaging in close combat with Milloula would be risky, Inghild ran toward his dropped assault rifle. To stop the Officer without using a firearm was akin to resigning yourself to fate. However, the moment Inghild gripped his assault rifle on the floor, a swift hook kick hit his face.

A few more kicks managed to get through and knocked Inghild to the floor.

"Are your muscles only for show?" said Milloula sardonically. "I'm not using my Iliad, and yet, you're already struggling? What has become of men these days? Weak, pathetic."

Inghild dragged himself into another civilian room, and Milloula twisted her boot's heel into his back. His attempts to strike fell flat, with the woman's boot drilling into him.

"...You're really not going to put up a show for me, huh?"

Milloula clasped Inghild's bloodied face as she hunkered next to him. "No one has ever lasted more than five minutes fighting me in hand-to-hand combat. Naturally, I don't expect much from you. But this theatrical antics you're putting up will not cut it if you want to stay alive."

After Milloula said that, Inghild lifted himself up through brute strength alone and swung his arm, but it missed Milloula's head. Milloula took a step back, lowered her center of gravity, pulled her right arm over her shoulder, and sent a powerful punch to his chest.

"Graakh!" Inghild coughed and fell to the peach-tiled floor, unmoving.

"...That's three minutes, I think. And a straight punch to his heart like that should've killed him, and yet..."

Inghild's fingers twitched. Even if he could stand back up, the fact still remained he couldn't put so much as a scratch on her.

And so, when Milloula proceeded to activate her Iliad, the least Inghild could do was use every bit of his strength to stand up and running.

"Inghild!!" yelled a familiar woman's voice.

Beatrice entered the fray and twisted her body twice—performing two roundhouse kicks in sequence toward Milloula Friegeaux. Milloula slid to the medallion-colored wall and Beatrice followed her attack with a punch using the bottom of her fist onto Milloula's shoulder.

Stunned, Milloula rolled away from Beatrice's conspicuous pre-grapple stance and glared at her.

"...That grapple you were about to execute... That's a jujutsu form, isn't it?" said Milloula as she stood back up.

Beatrice sent a roundhouse kick at the Officer's head but she blocked it with the flat of her fist. "That's fast."

Realizing how astute Milloula's battle senses seemed to be, Beatrice pulled away and shot with her revolver several times, distancing the two foes further apart.

"Inghild! Sorry to make you wait!" said Beatrice as she inched closer to her comrade.

"...Since you're here, that means you'd call for reinforcements, eh?"

Beatrice nodded, her eyes kept watch on Milloula's movement. "The Second Squad is fighting an Officer outside, and once I'd heard about how you and Hope are trying to find Ava, I rushed here. Knowing you two, I know it's only a matter of time before someone like her catches up."