Chapter 21 – The Letter That Wasn't Enough
The flicker of candlelight danced along the edge of Andrew's blade as he sat alone in his makeshift command tent. Maps were sprawled across the table, enemy positions marked in red, allies in blue, and the unknown forces… well, they were in black.
Andrew sat with his back slouched, fingers wrapped around a cup of bitter coffee. His voice echoed quietly in the silence.
"That was a terrible send-off… what kind of hero sends a panicked vocal message and cuts out mid-battle? I sound like some C-grade war drama character."
He rubbed his temple, annoyance slowly growing.
"I need to redo that letter… let them know I'm alive. Not dead, not a coward. Just… busy murdering incompetent ambushers."
He sighed.
"Stupid enemy tactics. They actually thought surrounding a formation I designed was a smart idea? Did they even read the basic strategy manual?"
"I'm embarrassed for them."
He pulled out a small recorder orb — a neat little magical device that could transmit audio through the pop-up system.
Vocal Message Transmission (Academy-Wide Notification):
"Hey, it's Andrew. Don't panic — again — I'm still alive, surprisingly. Sorry about the last message. Ended too dramatically, huh? Felt like a cliffhanger episode. Mario, I swear if you cried over it, I'm never letting you live it down."
He chuckled quietly.
"Anyway, I'm fine. Bored, honestly. These guys are so bad at ambushing, I started giving them tips mid-fight. Like: 'Don't scream before you swing. I can hear you from three tents over.'"
"Also, Sofia — tell the instructor I did use the flanking maneuver he suggested. It worked for exactly ten seconds, and then I upgraded it, because — well, I'm me."
"I'll send more updates if I survive the next five minutes… looks like—"
BANG
The sound was deafening. The entire transmission shattered with magical static.
Andrew's smirk vanished. He stood immediately, swords drawn before anyone could even reach him.
"Of course… as soon as I try to be sentimental."
The ground shook. A real ambush this time — not from soldiers, but beasts. Monsters. Dozens. No, hundreds.
And then it came.
A giant, one-eyed creature. Nearly fifteen feet tall. Muscles like twisted roots and a body that flickered in and out of visibility — an Eclipse Troll, known for its uncanny ability to dodge predictions, even those of battle-hardened strategists.
Andrew struck — fast, sharp, precise.
It dodged.
He struck again. Another miss.
"No way. It's not reading my moves— it's predicting… no, it's ignoring intent entirely. But how?"
Behind him, soldiers screamed. The formation collapsed. Limbs flew. Blood stained the frozen field.
For the first time, Andrew hesitated.
"Think. THINK."
He stilled himself. No tactics, no plans, no assumptions. Pure instinct.
Then it landed — a hit straight into Andrew's side. His ribs cracked.
He hit the ground. Rolled.
"Damn it. Stop thinking!"
The moment he dropped all calculation — all tactics — and let his body move on raw survival impulse…
His blade connected.
The troll roared.
Another strike.
Then another.
And finally — he plunged both blades into its eye as he leapt off a boulder and drove it into the dirt.
Dead silence.
Then, a pop-up.
[You have defeated a Cataclysm-Class monster.]
[You have unlocked the skill: "Time Reset – ???"]
[Warning: Unknown effect. Use at your own risk.
Andrew blinked.
"Time reset?"
No description. No clue. Just… potential.
"Nah. Too risky. I'll keep it sealed."
He turned toward the hill where the enemy fortress lay — his eyes sharper, darker.
"No more reacting. Time to move."
"We attack at dawn."