Young Master's PoV: Woke Up As A Villain In A Game One Day

Chapter 463: Bishop Medallion [III]

After Reiner Tovak was eliminated by technical knockout and transported out of the warzone, Casey and her squad didn’t waste a moment celebrating.

Ivan went ahead and personally secured the Medallion.

Meanwhile, the remaining Ebony Cadets in the Sector, after seeing both their Bishop and their strongest defender brought down, fell into total disarray.

Without a central commander to direct their lines, they retreated into the surrounding woods.

The Ivory strike team didn’t bother chasing them since the work here was done. They would now have to return to their own territory and give this Medallion to their own Bishop.

So they started moving out, maintaining a tight defensive formation as they doubled back toward the marshland tributaries.

Ivan lagged slightly at the rear of the formation, fingers tightening around the polished emerald stone carved in the shape of a bishop in his hand.

“You were amazing, Lady Casey!”

“Yeah, you took Tovak out with a single hit!”

“I was so amazed! I didn’t even see you move.”

Casey, walking near the front of the unit with her shashka already back in its scabbard, was swarmed by eager praises from the rest of the squad.

She handled the suddenly energetic crowd with a practiced aristocratic modesty, offering only a brief nod here and a calm smile there. “Thank you. Ah, yes. You also did well. You too. I-I saw your…”

Though she tried to come across as aloof and composed, Ivan could tell she was not used to getting so many compliments. A neglectful childhood, perhaps?

Her chest was heaving quite heavily under her dark tactical vest. Her pale skin was flushed, and a sheen of sweat had plastered strands of her blue hair to her forehead.

Samael had instructed Ivan to join her as soon as he was accepted into Lady Thalia’s faction. That was their last contact, so he did as he was told.

He introduced himself to Casey Snowrite and, very naturally, got close to her

She wasn’t a bad person. Far from it, actually.

For a highborn noble, she possessed a surprisingly humble streak that made her easy to talk to… once you get past her icy exterior.

He was also told the girl was smart. Perhaps even as smart as Juliana. Though he highly doubted that, Ivan still made sure to take proper precautions by having her acquainted with his friends, Irina and Viktor.

Because his two friends were innocent, their interactions with Casey were completely genuine. This made any suspicions she may have harbored regarding Ivan’s sudden friendliness melt away.

Also, since all four of them were northern nobility, they already had so much in common.

So what if she was smart? Even the sharpest mind would struggle to detect a lie if you hide it behind absolute, unfeigned sincerity.

Now did he feel guilty about using his friends and shared culture as psychological camouflage? Did he feel guilty about breaking the trust of a girl who was actually starting to consider him a reliable ally?

A little.

But only a little.

It was nothing personal.

I wonder how strong she is, Ivan thought, looking back up.

She took down Reiner with a single hit, sure. But before that, she was struggling against the Bishop.

Okay, maybe not struggling, but she was definitely taking her time with him.

Was it because she wanted to gauge his strength, or did that draw-slash take almost everything she had left?

Her ragged breathing and faintly trembling hands that she was trying so desperately to hide in her pockets pointed toward the latter.

That level of speed and power wasn’t something you could just spam like basic fireballs. It had to be a high-tier finishing move.

Samael did tell him that she was poisoned with Frost-Bite rot. Her condition was definitely hindering her capabilities, forcing her to rely on short bursts of overwhelming force rather than dragged-out battles of endurance.

Her innate ability had something to do with vibrations and kinetic energy transference.

A formidable power. But right now, her stamina was capped, and Ivan could only guess how excruciating the pain must be every time she tried to circulate Essence inside her body.

In short, she was running on fumes after that terrifying display. No way could she recreate it again today without her internal pathways completely tearing themselves apart.

I can eliminate her right this instant. He could. He was tempted. So very tempted.

“You’re staring, dude,” a voice muttered, yanking Ivan out of his opportunistic daydream.

Viktor had dropped down from the sky, his crimson eyes fading back to their normal bluish-dark hue as he fell into step right beside Ivan.

“…What?” Ivan recoiled, raising both his eyebrows.

Viktor scowled, wiped a smudge of soot off his cheek, then leaned in to whisper, “Stop staring at another girl’s ass. Think about Irina. She’s walking right ahead of you, for fuck’s sake.”

Ivan almost choked on his own spit.

Walking a few paces in front of them, near the right flank, Irina was throwing furtive glances back over her shoulder, a faint pucker of annoyance between her brows.

Yeah, she definitely caught his prolonged staring.

Holding back a suffering sigh, Ivan thought about explaining himself. Then, without even trying, he gave up.

The way Viktor said those words, with righteous contempt concealed beneath his stony veneer, made it clear he had reached his own conclusion.

He had been acting like this ever since Irina and Ivan got together — playing the part of a concerned, overprotective friend who was convinced Ivan was going to mess things up sooner or later as though he were some scoundrel.

It was obvious that he was waiting for his chance to give her a shoulder to cry on, then maybe steal her away from Ivan.

And Ivan couldn’t even blame him for it, because that’s sort of what he himself did to Viktor.

But that didn’t mean the constant slandering wasn’t starting to get on his nerves.

“First of all,” Ivan muttered, lowering his voice, “I wasn’t staring at anyone’s ass. Second of all, Irina is my girlfriend. I will worry about her, dude.”

Maybe it was a bit cold, but Viktor had it coming.

The taller boy’s jaw tightened. But he didn’t offer a rebuttal. He just picked up his pace and pulled ahead to fall into rank beside Irina, leaving Ivan alone with his thoughts.

Ivan rolled his eyes, rubbing his temples with his free hand.

High school-esque romance during a high-stakes mock war was going to kill him long before any of Samael’s insane battle tactics ever did.

The squad continued their march until they reached a wide, knee-deep tributary.

Three rafts made of heavy timber and reinforced steel were stowed there beneath a canopy of thick, hanging mangroves and wild vines.

Casey gave the order to board.

The twelve out of twenty remaining Cadets split into three groups, stepping onto the rafts and pushing off from the muddy bank with wind-affinity spells and long wooden poles.

Ivan had joined Casey’s raft, taking his position beside two other Cadets who were currently taking turns to propel the platform down the winding waterway.

The gentle lap of the dark stream against the wooden logs sounded so calm and therapeutic compared to the bloodbath of the clearing they had just left behind.

Casey stood near the bow of the raft, her eyes scanning the path ahead. She was clearly shivering now, as if cold.

Ivan stood to stand beside her. “Hey, you okay?”

She flinched slightly before forcing her back straight and turning her head to look at him. Up close, the dark circles under her eyes were impossible to ignore.

“I am fine, Ivan,” she waved a dismissive hand, though her teeth clattered slightly as she said that. It was like she was suffering from hypothermia. “Just… catching my breath. The moisture in these marshlands is doing no favors for my lungs.”

Right. The moisture. Definitely not some poison.

“You fought well, by the way,” she added, her voice softening a little as her silver eyes met his. “Good job taking out that Bishop. It helped me focus on that tentacled guy.”

“Reiner,” Ivan smiled.

“Reiner,” Casey nodded, smiling back. “He was a tough one. If not for you breaking the Bishop’s guard, I would have had to drag it out. So, thank you”

Ivan felt a prickle of guilt twist in his gut.

Stop being nice, he mentally groaned. It’s so much easier to betray people when they’re arrogant assholes.

“Don’t mention it,” Ivan said, keeping his smile warm and genuine. “We’re a team. Besides, seeing you slice through those five giant tentacles at once was the most absurd thing I’ve ever witnessed in my life. I think you ruined normal swordsmanship for me forever.”

A rare chuckle escaped Casey’s lips. Soft and airy, it was devoid of the cold authority she usually preferred to project. “It looks far more dramatic than it actually is.”

Yeah, dramatic enough to vaporize five thousand pounds of mutated muscle, Ivan thought. But he didn’t press.

He was sure now.

Sure that while he could never hope to match her destructive output on dry land, he would one-shot her underwater.

Once again, he was tempted to just eliminate her right here.

But he had a much, much better plan in mind.

With the Medallion of this Sector safe in their possession, they were now heading back to bring their own Bishop here.

Thalia would have to send a large detachment if she intended to fortify this new beachhead and hold it against any counter-attack from Samael. Nothing below a large company of sixty to seventy Cadets would suffice.

And Ivan… would take out all of those troops at once.