Chapter 10

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Chapter 10: The Unseen Threat

The vast canopy of towering trees blocked out the sky, with only sparse sunlight filtering through the thick leaves. Though many teams had entered the Forest of Gran, they vanished like grains of sand in the ocean, disappearing without a trace into the silent sea of trees.

The blazing sun dipped from its peak, finally sinking below the horizon.

Evening clouds burned like flames, the sun’s final passionate display.

“Let’s stop here for today,” Fina said, turning to the black-haired youth. “Midi, your thoughts?”

“We should push another half-hour. This stream’s flow suggests we’re near the watershed. There’ll be shelter and water there—ideal for camp.”

“Good. Your call,” the red-haired girl agreed without hesitation.

Three days into the trial, every decision Midi made had proven flawless—route choices, campsite safety, food management, escape plans—all while maintaining swift progress.

The others weren’t amateurs; they’d prepared thoroughly. But against Midi’s reincarnation-forged experience, they could only marvel.

Surviving a week in the wilderness strained both body and mind. Even top Magic Academy students lacked the hardened adventurer’s knack for sleeping anywhere or sensing approaching monsters. Exhaustion came less from battles than from constant marching, bad food, rough rest, and looming dangers.

Yet Midi’s strategies kept the team fresh even after skirmishes. As Fina quipped, “I could slaughter a level 30 enemy right now.”

Each night, he personally scouted secure campsites and took watch duty alone.

After the first night, the Queen of Storms officially made him their guide—a mark of trust Midi desperately needed.

With Midi leading, the trial became effortless. No maps were needed; they simply followed him.

In three days, they’d cleared eight ruins—goblin hordes, minotaur bands, cat demon packs, even mutated magic-casting leaders—all crushed under their blades and spells.

Combat-wise, Fina reigned supreme.

Midi kept his demon hand hidden, but even without it, Fina’s “Queen of Magic” title wasn’t empty boasting. Her basic Magic Missiles, enhanced by innate talent, became a storm-like barrage that shredded enemies.

Most battles ended with melee fighters Midi and Lilian barely lifting their weapons. Gunslinger Sigmund merely distracted foes while Fina obliterated entire groups single-handedly, never winded.

The academy’s toughest trial felt like a stroll—and by all accounts, they’d outpaced rivals like Fenrir’s team.

Yet Midi remained uneasy.

Though dominant in the forest, the shadowing assassins troubled him.

The Magic Academy surely assigned protectors—likely level 25—for Hamilton family’s heir. But memory warned of three level 28 Sais family assassins.

Last life, those killers had silently eliminated guardians, split their team using terrain, pinned Sigmund and Lilian, then ambushed Fina.

Back then, Fina—though level 21—unleashed level 28 potential, instantly killing one assassin. Had Midi not panicked at level 16, she’d never have been wounded.

Now Midi stood at level 19 with a demon hand trump card.

But reality had shifted.

Two nights of checking traps, backtracking for clues, and veteran instincts confirmed it—these assassins outclassed last life’s.

Three days of conserving strength, hoarding advantages—would it be enough?

Midi’s mind churned.

“Let me watch tonight. You’ve done two shifts,” Sigmund offered after supper.

“No need. I’m fresh from light daytime work,” Midi declined.

“Don’t bother, Sigmund.” Lilian’s teasing voice held no malice. “Our stubborn hero wants to impress Miss Fina. Save your concern.”

As the Hawk Brigade’s future star fighter, Lilian’s suspicion was familiar. Midi knew her sharp tongue hid loyalty—she’d strike silently when true danger came.

“Miss Fina, reason with him,” Sigmund appealed. “We’re a team.”

The red-haired girl smiled faintly. “Trust everyone to manage themselves, Sigmund.”

So Midi kept third watch.

Hiding in rock shadows, he feigned sleep—adventurer’s trick. Humans saw poorly at night; closed eyes heightened other senses. Traps would alert him to intruders.

Hours later, familiar warmth approached.

“Fina?” Midi opened eyes to see her sneaking closer.

“Thought you’d be asleep.” She stuck out her tongue, showing rare girlishness reserved for him.

“Eyes closed sharpens hearing and smell,” he explained.

But he knew she wasn’t here to scold—she’d have done that night one.

“What worries you?” She cut to the chase. “This exceeds trial precautions.”

Midi hesitated, then confessed: “We’re being followed.”

“The academy’s level 25 and 30 watchers?”

“No. Others—level 30+, numbers unknown. Professional assassins. Night watches drain us, daytime strikes prevent escapes. Question is when.”

“So that’s why hostile eyes prickled during clears.” Fina tossed her hair, annoyed. “Pinpoint them? I prefer attacking first.”

Midi shook his head wryly. Even as Demon Swordman, spotting elite assassins surpassed his current skills.

Then inspiration struck.

“Can’t locate them, but maybe we can strike first.” His eyes gleamed.