[Sub-writer 1: Of course, there's a way to ease this hassle.]
[Sub-writer 1: I have a feeling you'd know.]
'Are they out of their mind?'
Why are they acting so familiar?
Wondering if this was some sort of ploy to block my view with the messenger window, I deliberately ignored it and pulled the crossbow trigger.
[Entity Name] Blade Bird (Adult)
[Distribution] A predator that inhabits high mountain regions and lives in flocks.
[Ecology] A bird-like monster with feathers as strong as steel. It has three heads that share a single stomach, often fighting over food. Due to the weight of its heads, it cannot fly for long and primarily glides. It relies heavily on vision, but because its sight is optimized for covering multiple angles rather than clarity, its eyesight is not particularly sharp. When hunting prey that is not visible, it depends on its hearing. (Read More)
With the messenger window showing the
"Attack the smallest head!"
After quickly scanning the weak points, I shouted, and Leonardo moved without hesitation. The knights followed him, and chaos erupted.
Raising my voice after so long sent a sharp pain through my throat, as if the fragile new flesh over my old wound was tearing apart. A dull ache spread from deep inside.
A wound I got thanks to some bastard idly sending messages who is acting up again.
[Sub-writer 1: Oh dear. It's coming from above. Shouldn't you dodge?]
"Isaac, duck!"
The moment I ducked, a razor-sharp feather shot past and embedded itself in the rock behind me with a sharp thunk. Even without my reaction, Leonardo had deflected its trajectory with his sword at the last second, so my throat wouldn't have been sliced open—but it had been a close call nonetheless.
I signalled to Leonardo that I was fine and took a moment to catch my breath behind the rock. Staring into the air, I snapped irritably,
"What the hell are you playing at?"
[Sub-writer 1: So feisty.]
[Sub-writer 1: If you die, your body and the original text vanish. Naturally, I should handle you with care.]
Godric responded lazily, as if he were simply enjoying the spectacle, even urging me to carry on. Annoyance and suspicion began creeping in—until a new thought struck me.
Timing. Last time, at El Dante, when I was forcibly made to share Sub-writer 1's vision…
'They could only view one scene at a time.'
When observing Celestina and Count Ertinez, their focus had been locked there. The same was true when they watched Raul and Vittorio's situation.
So if Godric was watching this battlefield, that meant he couldn't see anywhere else.
'Raul and the First Field Army… I need to keep him from looking south.'
Holding his attention here was the best strategic move. But I had to do it carefully, without making my intentions obvious.
Capturing the gaze of an observer from above. Wasn't that precisely what I had once done for a living?
A stage exists to be seen. Whether it's set design, storytelling, or an actor's performance, if it exists onstage, its sole purpose is to be delivered to the audience.
If the protagonist and actors drive the story forward, if the directors sustain it, and if the writers construct it—
Then the audience is what gives the performance meaning. Their gaze is what lets us breathe, speak, and act.
Of course, the one I had to entertain now was far from a beloved audience. More of an unwelcome spy than an honoured guest. But thinking of him as an audience wasn't difficult.
I took a deep breath and reloaded the crossbow.
What keeps an audience from looking away from the stage?
A hard question to answer, especially for someone like me—someone who had never been more than a minor role or a supporting act.
But I knew what it felt like. I had once stood under a spotlight so blinding that the entire world seemed to glow silver. I had felt the heat of an intense gaze, the moment I was no longer just another nameless face. The first moment I became someone on stage.
'Alright.'
My mind cleared, and my goal came into sharp focus. Smirking slightly, I leaned out from behind the rock.
After a brief skirmish, the knights had each taken cover behind boulders. With their targets momentarily out of reach, the five Blade Birds folded their wings and descended, stretching their necks in all directions.
Five bodies. Fifteen heads.
The tension thickened, broken only by the occasional sound of talons scraping against loose gravel. One of the creatures, too agitated, clacked its beak sharply—then the others followed, responding in eerie synchronization. The sound echoed between the cliffs like a warped, discordant symphony, growing sharper, higher, as if reaching for a climax. Around them, the battlefield was a mess of shattered rocks and debris, kicked up by their relentless wing attacks. And beyond them, the Dragon's Tail—a mountain range with an extremely, extremely steep incline.
Dozens of knights were crouched behind rocks. Which meant—dozens of boulders ready to be pushed.
'Leo. Right before the sound stops.'
「Got it.」
Leonardo, who had taken command due to his quick reactions, would be my amplifier. The tension peaked. The birds' eerie clacking suddenly ceased.
"Push the rocks!"
The knights moved. The Ertinez knights reacted instantly, while the Marchez knights hesitated slightly before throwing their weight against the boulders.
Screeeech—!
The creatures sensed the shift and flared their wings wide—too late. The boulders had already broken loose, rolling over gravel and fractured stone, kicking up a storm of dust. With dozens of man-sized boulders crashing downward, even the ground trembled underfoot.
The birds spread their wings, startled by the thunderous noise. But instead of soaring straight up, they could only glide lower—right into the wave of falling rock. Behind the avalanche of stone, a thick cloud of dust rose high, turning the air into a choking, yellow haze.
For a brief moment, even the watching eyes from above would be blind.
[Sub-writer 1: This makes it rather difficult to help, doesn't it?]
I ignored the chiding message instantly, as if scolding me for my foolishness.
As the monsters reeled, stunned by the dust and the deafening crash, I crouched low, steadying my stance. The others were coughing from the thick air, but I had no trouble tracking the creatures' positions.
There was a reason I kept the monster encyclopedia window open, even with limited visibility. The floating text labels marking each creature's body were as good as an auto-targeting system!
My arrow vanished into the dust, followed by a pained screech. A hit. Without pausing, I notched the next one.
A normal bow or crossbow would struggle to pierce the birds' iron-like feathers. But the crossbow gifted by House Ertinez was nothing like the cheap one I bought in Sinistra's markets. Even the sound was different—more like a sharp bang than a regular shot. And every arrow landed true. Not deadly hits, but enough to enrage them.
As the dust from the rockslide gradually settled, Godric finally muttered in a leisurely tone that he could see something again.
At that exact moment, a beak shot out from the murky yellow-brown haze. Rows of small, jagged teeth, perfectly designed to grind flesh into shreds, gleamed within. The fleshy red interior that housed them was right in front of me, close enough to make out every gruesome detail. The head was just the right size to swallow a human skull whole.
[Sub-writer 1: —]
The moment Sub-writer 1's message stopped mid-input—
A sudden pull from behind yanked me back into a familiar embrace.
Leonardo, gripping his greatsword in one hand, twisted the hilt and drove the blade straight through the monster's head, skewering it like a piece of meat on a spit.
One of its three heads slumped lifelessly, while the others, blinded by rage, struck the ground with their beaks in a wild frenzy.
Just then, a small, dark figure slid down the steep incline with a sharp whoosh—darting beneath the thrashing heads.
In a blink, Vittorio lunged between the creature's jaws, stabbed into its lower jaw, and slipped back out before it could react.
'Nice timing!'
Of course, every movement had been planned.
Godric didn't know we were using
So tracking Leonardo's position through the dust and calling for support at just the right moment was effortless.
To us, this was nothing more than a well-rehearsed sequence—but to an uninformed observer, it must have looked like a harrowing, high-stakes gamble.
And since Godric's interest was tied to my survival, what better way to keep him watching than a little thrill?
[Sub-writer 1: Reckless.]
Oh? Seems like he was actually worried.
I leaned heavily against Leonardo's chest on purpose, breathing raggedly, letting a faint tremor run through my body.
All for Godric's benefit.
After all, every time I'd crossed paths with him, I'd been bedridden or coughing up blood. Not my fault, by the way. He was the one who tormented me to that point. Still, thanks to those past encounters, the act was already convincing.
I wasn't some fantasy-world warrior—I was a modern human, raised on convenience and pragmatism.
'All I have to do is look weak enough that he can't risk looking away.'
Let him see with his own eyes just how fragile the person holding onto Leovald's corpse and the original manuscript really was. How easily it could all disappear.
If anyone should be desperately anxious about losing the body and the manuscript, it wasn't me—it was Godric.
I angled my head just right and let out a cough, forcing a rough, pitiful sound from my raw, damaged throat.
Playing a cunning mastermind was one thing, but now I had to act frail and sickly? The contrast felt unnatural.
But I didn't waver. I shivered visibly.
"Isaac!"
Leonardo's intense reaction was an unexpected bonus. His acting surged out of nowhere, catching me off guard for a moment. With his face lightly dusted with dirt, his pained grimace was so convincing that I almost thought he was the one injured. Even though, between the two of us, we were probably the least wounded people on this battlefield. Honestly, it was a little disorienting to see him react so strongly—especially since he had already received an update on the situation through
For now, I decided to just let him be.
"I'm fine! Keep fighting!"
And with that, my frail act was just about used up—right as I rolled down the rocky terrain a few more times for good measure.
[Sub-writer 1: Right.]
[Sub-writer 1: Watch your step.]
[Sub-writer 1: Someone's coming from the opposite side. You should move.]
I kept using Sub-writer 1 as a makeshift danger sensor.
'…Not bad, right?'
Surprisingly, he was actually useful.