"Fire element! Fire Splash!" Stanislav threw himself to the side, seeking cover behind one of the stone walls.
A massive explosion boomed at the spot where he had been just a second ago. His face skin painfully tingled as the scorching air grazed it like sandpaper.
Ordyntsev gasped, inhaling a strange mix of oxygen, someone's burnt flesh, stone dust, and ash.
'If I survive this, I'm splurging on a mask!'
He desperately wanted to cough, the kind of cough that feels like you're about to spew your guts along with air onto the ground, but he held back - now was not the time.
The stone barrier erected at the beginning of the battle had done him a good service, shielding him from the raging fire, but it was useless against a direct hit.
The earthling once again outran his own death, which had already tenderly patted his shoulder with its bony hand.
A wave of hot air hit his back, but Stas knew how to handle such situations.
'Thank you, Master Jun. I hope you're still alive.'
"Ha-ha-ha!" The hated laughter of the enemy warmaster, raining fire techniques on Stas, echoed from behind. "Run, little mouse, run! But you won't get far! I will finish you off!"
"Bloody Strike!" Stas hissed, suddenly spinning around and unleashing his own technique at the enemy who had appeared from the smoke.
A blood-red clump formed in an instant and shot out, slicing through the heated air like a red-hot knife through butter.
"Fire technique. Fire Wall!" His opponent's defensive technique erupted from his hand, once again absorbing the earthling's attack.
The collision of prana-infused blood and magical fire created burgundy clouds, with sinister flashes flickering inside, but the combatants paid no heed to these strange "weather patterns."
'Damn the elders. Because of them, I have to deal with this crap!'
And Stas was understandable. He had disliked their mission from the start. Escorting a bureaucrat collecting taxes in towns dangerously close to the front was inherently risky.
Especially considering the Sansa clan was critically short on funds. Mercenaries, who kept them afloat, were expensive. As they say, what could possibly go wrong?
And if nothing interesting happened for the first two months, giving Stas a glimmer of hope, the third month hit them hard.
Three teams of warmasters were sent to protect the bureaucrat. At the moment, Stas was sure there were fewer of them left.
Their caravan consisted not only of the official and warmasters. The high-ranking bureaucrat dragged along a huge convoy of wagons with gold, servants, scribes, a squad of samurai, and porters.
And it was this whole rabble that began to cheerfully and spiritedly die under the assaults of techniques from warmasters lying in ambush.
While Jun pulled the official out of harm's way, unceremoniously grabbing him by the collar and choking him unconscious, his students had to fend for themselves, rolling off the wagons and lying low nearby.
A chain of explosions and flashes from triggered techniques covered the whole caravan. It was horrifying to see what had become of regular people.
Their opponents preferred to use fire and acid techniques. There were a couple of water and seemingly air ones, but the overall theme remained the same.
They were only saved because they weren't the priority targets. The main strike was taken by advanced warmasters and a couple of supreme ones, one of which was their sensei.
However, Master Jun was not so easily killed.
"Does anyone see them?" Stas shouted, feeling something running down his cheek. He applied Healing Palm to his ear, repairing the torn eardrum.
"They're over there!" Mei pointed into the depths of the forest, which their comrades began to bombard with techniques. The enemies were hard to see through the foliage, but that was being dealt with right before their eyes.
Earth techniques, so beloved by the Sumada, uprooted trees like weeds, leaving devastating swaths of fallen trunks.
"What should we do?" Eiji landed in their shelter, slightly smoking. Apparently, one of the techniques passed dangerously close to his body, singeing it.
If they originally rolled down into an ordinary ravine, now under Mei's prana influence, it had deepened and gained a small parapet from which they peered out.
"Should we join up with the teacher?" Ordyntsev suggested, starting to heal Mei's ears. She was close to him, so the explosion had hit her hard, too.
"No," the girl winced from pain shooting through her inner ear. "The teacher is busy now. We'll only be in the way!"
That very second, a loud laugh, unmistakably belonging to their teacher, was muffled by the whistling of a greenish whirlwind, made entirely of acid.
"Danger!" Stas's eyes widened, and he bolted from their trench. The others followed, narrowly escaping a glop of acid that nearly filled the pit.
Leviathan's warning from underground was timely. During the past fights, they had developed a tactic that worked pretty well.
The snake, with her extraordinary sensory skills, monitored their surroundings and provided support in the form of surprise attacks.
If nothing was happening, she tried not to show herself, so as not to reveal her presence.
"Oh, what a pity," four fighters landed in front of Jun's wary students. The oldest spoke, seemingly taking the lead. The other three, two lads and a girl, were slightly older than Stas and his friends.
"It would have been easier if you'd died from my first technique. But where are my manners? Allow me to introduce myself, Kirin Sansa, a supreme warmaster."
No one was surprised by the warmaster's frankly strange behavior, who seemed to be putting on a show despite a battle raging around them.
But here, it's worth taking a small dive into the culture of warmasters.
Since warmasters weren't samurai, they saw nothing wrong with attacking from ambush, mercilessly dealing even with weak enemies.
However, if a surprise attack failed, other rules came into play.
The life of warmasters was an unending war and training for it. Repetitions of techniques thousands and tens of thousands of times endlessly, hardships and losses.
Clearly, in such conditions, warmasters could die at any time, so they tried to leave a memory of themselves one way or another.
In the culture of warmasters, there was nothing sweeter than being remembered as a legendary warrior, whose feats or villainy would be passed down for many generations.
That's why the tradition of introduction was quite a thing. Of course, if the mission was secret, no one would introduce themselves, but since there was a war, it made no sense.
Regardless of who won, the victorious side would later tell that they encountered so-and-so and defeated them in a "fair" fight.
On top of that, there were nuances like weak warmasters usually didn't introduce themselves to stronger ones unless asked.
'Kirin the Cutter – one of the most experienced warmaster veterans of the Sansa,' Stas remembered with resignation, 'We're dead.'
"But, I think, kids, in your case, there's no point introducing yourselves," Kirin's hand almost reached for his katana's hilt as he swiftly darted forward, intercepting Jun, who was hurtling towards him.
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An unpleasant sound wave spread from the collision of a massive club and a seemingly thin katana, making all teeth painfully buzz.
Judging by how prana flowed into Cutter's blade, he mastered the art of imbuing his weapon with energy. Otherwise, his sword stood no chance of surviving such a powerful impact.
"Jun, long time no see," Kirin politely spit out, delivering a dozen sliding strikes to his opponent, but due to the speed, they almost merged into one.
"Kirin," Jun growled, taking all the blows on his club and swinging a wide strike that forced Cutter to jump back. "Haven't seen your ugly mug in a hundred years and would've preferred not to see it for another hundred."
"Always so rude. I see you've decided to settle down and lead a team? Somehow, I didn't hear about it. Does that mean they're still green? It'll be a real shame if my kids cut yours into a salad."
"We'll see about that!" The two supreme warmasters began to move away from their apprentices. Both understood that even one good strike by the opponent would be enough to kill someone.
The six students of two different warmasters tensely faced each other.
One of the trio was about to open his mouth to introduce himself, and Stas was about to try to avoid the fight, but Eiji ruined everything by launching a technique straight at Kirin's apprentices.
The worst part was that it achieved nothing, as the warmasters easily dodged. But Mei, Eiji, and Shiro immediately understood what Cutter meant by inexperience - their enemies were real advanced warmasters!
And very quickly, the situation spiraled out of control.
It didn't take long for them to split up, each leading their opponent away.
'Something needs to be done, this can't go on,' Ordyntsev thought rapidly, continuing to dodge the fire techniques of his foe. 'Judging by his enthusiasm, he has plenty of prana, and sooner or later, I'll make a mistake. I need to get closer to him. His constant shouts reveal his self-confidence and pride, let's play on that.'
The subsequent blast, striking perilously near the earthling, sent him flying sideways and slammed him into the ground, leaving him motionless as a broken puppet.
But everything was far from as simple as it seemed.
As Stas rolled across the ground, he made his body stick to the surface at the right moment, stopping just as he wanted.
Though his muscles screamed in pain, one hand ended up being hidden by his own body.
"Insensate Demon," Ordyntsev whispered, and the pain instantly vanished, his body filled with strength. He was well aware of some torn muscles, partially charred skin, and thoroughly roasted armor, but the pain was gone.
Instead, his body felt an extraordinary lightness.
Now came the most dangerous part of his plan.
'Please don't decide to just finish me off from a distance with a technique! Come on, get closer. Closer. You want to gloat, right? Here I am,' Stas mentally coaxed, feigning a dying swan. And if not for the technique, he wouldn't have had to pretend much.
"What do we have here, a roasted carcass?" his opponent asked with feigned concern, landing nearby.
He was a twenty-three-year-old lad with green armor and bare arms without shoulder pads. Tattoos twisted, embracing his decent muscles.
A steel mask covered the young man's face, leaving only a small part of his forehead and eyes visible.
"You know, I'm feeling generous today. My name is Koya. And yes, you've amused me today. So, if you politely ask me, I'll kill you quickly, not with acid or fire. Believe me, it's a very generous offer…
'Now!'
The ground beneath Koya's feet exploded, and from it, a dozen worm-like bodies lunged diagonally upwards.
Stas's hidden hand controlled the technique of the worms, which had secretly burrowed tunnels under the ground.
But his enemy was not ranked an advanced warmaster for nothing.
Instinctively, the man leaped away from the charging worms, slicing them into stone-ground mince with his katana, which was precisely what Ordyntsev had planned.
At full speed, Koya flew into a pre-arranged ether cloud on the side. Stas had spent a lot of energy to release as much as possible without risking intoxication.
"What filth is this?!" The arrogance instantly dropped from the enemy as he felt his strength draining. "Is this poison or some kind of technique?"
However, he didn't have long to lament his condition.
The supposedly downed enemy sprung up and, with unexpected speed, unleashed a flurry of spear thrusts.
None of them hit, but Stas's goal was not to kill, but to block the warmaster's attempts to escape the area of the ether's influence.
Yes, Koya was more experienced and far better with the blade, but Stas had the weakening effect of the ether and complete insensitivity to muscle fatigue on his side.
Thanks to the "Demon" technique, Stas launched a furious onslaught, extracting everything possible from his body in an effort to increase speed and pressure further.
"It's useless!" the enemy gasped, parrying all attacks and trying to retreat.
"Earthworms!" The lethal tentacles that shot from Stas's hand missed the nimbly sidestepping opponent. The sword in his hand lazily cut through the bodies, severing the connection with the technique, but at that moment, Koya groaned in sudden pain.
Ordyntsev grimly smirked.
"What? You hid knives in your technique?!" the man finally realized, irritably looking at Stas and then at his scratched arm.
It was a recent creation of Ordyntsev's. Since there were still problems with changing the worms to snakes, Stas decided to insert knives into the heads of the forming worms. This required simultaneous dexterity of hands, calculation, and control.
It wasn't a new technique in the full sense of the word, more like a slight modification.
As the heads of the worms passed by, they ejected the knives, which had a chance to hit the enemy. And the trick even worked.
Stas said nothing, slowly circling his foe. Koya hadn't noticed yet, but each of the knives was coated with a thick layer of poison.
"Kami," At some point, Koya winced, staggering, then his eyes lit up with realization. "You bastard!"
Understanding that he was losing, he decided to gamble everything.
It was a desperate move. Despite all of Ordyntsev's tricks, his enemy was still stronger in hand-to-hand combat.
A direct confrontation could end badly.
And that meant it was necessary to end the fight on his own terms.
Stas, narrowing his eyes, charged at his opponent.
A second, and they met. According to plan, a sword thrust to the chest was supposed to force Ordyntsev to step aside, leaving his right hand open for a strike, but how surprised Koya was when his enemy impaled himself on the blade.
The young man tried to pull out the sword, but Ordyntsev, pressing his hand to himself, prevented it. Insensate Demon allowed the earthling to ignore the terrible pain, and besides, he had carefully calculated the point of impact to cause the least critical damage.
On the other side, Stas's own knife easily found its way, stabbing straight into Koya's neck. He didn't settle for one strike and repeated it several times until the warmaster's body finally relaxed, falling.
Even then, Stas, leaning down, delivered a confirmatory hit.
Considering the survivability of warmasters, these precautions were not superfluous.
Stas, with a sword still in his chest, quickly moved to a hiding place. The Insensate Demon technique was still working, but the last minutes before the inevitable madness were ticking away. Pulling out the blade was also not an option, to avoid bleeding out.
Sitting down and leaning against one of the fallen trees, Ordyntsev began self-healing. There was very little prana left, so he conserved it as much as possible.
'Who would have thought that what I now consider 'a little' was my entire reserve at the beginning of training? Yet, I can't put this off any longer.'
The Insensate Demon technique was canceled, and Ordyntsev immediately bent over, spitting out the blood that had accumulated in his lung.
Breathing was hard and painful, but he felt much better than his opponent.
Speaking of him.
The man pulled a thick scroll from his bag and quickly began to unroll it. He pressed the edges down with stones. Finished, he picked up the dead body and laid it right on the paper. He ignored the blood since the scroll was covered with a special compound.
Touching a nondescript symbol in the corner and channeling prana, Stas sealed the dead body instantly. Buying such a useful item as a spatial scroll had cost him a pretty coin. But he didn't regret a single ryo.
Ordyntsev wasn't going to waste such valuable material as an almost undamaged advanced warmaster.
Of course, he would curse everything while filling it with ether drop by drop, but in the end, he should have an excellent living corpse, ready to carry out even the most suicidal order.
But it was too early to relax. Although the fights were already dying down, he should hurry and check on his comrades - what if they needed help?
Rolling up the scroll and putting it back, Stas limped to where he had left Eiji.
The scene that unfolded before Stanislav made him exhale in relief. The half-blood had won his fight, after all. Moreover, he even managed to take his opponent, or rather, his female opponent, captive!
Stas chuckled ironically. Knowing the cockroaches running around his teammate's head[1], he needed to hurry and find out what he was going to do.
"Oh, Shiro!" Eiji smiled tiredly, noticing the approaching Stas. "I'm glad you're intact. I saw those explosions and clouds of fire out of the corner of my eye. Even thought about coming to help you."
"Was everything really so simple here?" Stas inquired with interest, examining the kneeling girl, whose hands and feet were tightly bound. Her eyes looked at them with hatred.
"I wouldn't say that," Eiji became more serious. "She almost got me. If not for your knives, things could have turned out differently."
Stas nodded in satisfaction. He had given several poisonous blades to his comrades for emergencies.
"What are you going to do with her?" Ordyntsev decided to change the subject. "Maybe take her as a concubine?" he joked, but fell silent because the face of the lad in front of him stopped showing any emotion.
"What did you say?" Eiji muttered quietly.
"Firstly, I was joking," Ordyntsev sighed heavily, liking the situation less and less. "And secondly, considering she's rather attractive," Stas didn't lie here. The kneeling young woman, indeed, involuntarily caught the eye. "After the clan extracts all her knowledge, she'll likely end up as someone's concubine."
"So that's how it is," Eiji turned away and looked at the girl.
Ordyntsev simply didn't have time to react to the next action. Eiji's naginata, turning in his hand, deeply entered the temple of the captive.
Her face was forever frozen with an expression of incomprehension and surprise.
"Why the hell?!" Stas exhaled, more comfortably gripping the spear and getting into a fighting stance. He was ready for Eiji to attack him next. "What demon made you kill her?!"
"I won't repeat my father's mistakes!" Eiji screamed, looking at Shiro with a mad gaze. "And I won't allow anyone from my clan to make a mistake either! Women have no place in war! They will betray, they will always betray, and they should not be allowed so close."
Stas said nothing, just watched the lad struggle with his emotions. Finally, Eiji calmed down and lowered his naginata; Stas also moved away his spear.
"And what now?" Ordyntsev asked slowly and cautiously, as if he were dealing with a dangerous maniac. Through, why "as if"?
"She tried to escape, and I killed her," Eiji shrugged indifferently. "I remember you saying you wanted to experiment on dead bodies? You can take her. And her gear, too; I don't need it."
Without another word, Eiji stepped aside, waiting for Stas to seal another body.
It was clear that the half-blood had given him, in a way, a bribe to keep silent.
Well, for now, Ordyntsev was willing to let this "misunderstanding" slide.
For now.
[1] Translator's note: this is a curios expression, worth leaving translated literally. In case it's not clear from the context, bugs or cockroaches running around one's head mean weird/bizarre/sick ideas.