Note: This work is entirely fictional and belongs to the Alternate History genre, utilizing historical characters and events in a fictional context. All content is a product of imagination and does not reflect reality or any political or military stance.

The story contains sensitive elements such as violence, large-scale warfare, tense political conflicts, and alternative historical depictions. It is not suitable for readers under 16 years of age or those who may be psychologically affected.
Continuing to read implies acceptance of all controversial elements within the work.

_____

 8:00 AM, January 13, 2021/4018, Fourth Era.

The Voro-12 team, led by Vorosimorsk, and the Rys-21 team from Kavkaz had been collaborating for some time to gather intelligence beneficial to their nation about the Papaldia Empire. Their goal was not only to collect information but also to help Voro-12 ascend to a higher rank to build a solid reputation. However, this proved more challenging than they had anticipated. Despite the passage of time, Voro-12 remained stuck at E-rank, which hindered their ability to integrate with the local populace.

The progress of their investigation was sluggish, making the situation far from optimistic. Recognizing the difficulties, both teams decided to sit down and discuss their next steps. They agreed that Rys-21 would join Voro-12 in more adventurous activities to create greater flexibility and reduce obstacles in their work.

Currently, Voro-12 was leading Rys-21 into a branch of the Adventurers' Guild. The situation remained the same—strange eyes still followed them with a hint of curiosity, but they paid little attention as it had become all too familiar. For Rys-21, however, being stared at like this was quite unusual. Kavkaz walked closely behind them, observing their surroundings. Most of the people here were kids who should still be in school, with a few adults scattered here and there.

He couldn't help but wonder: Do these people really make a living from this kind of work? Surely, there were more opportunities if one invested in education. Despite being labeled as a civilized region, there was little evidence of civilization in the Papaldia Empire. It felt more like a dystopia. His thoughts weren't unfounded. Since arriving here, what had he seen? Class divisions, slavery, forced labor, and underdeveloped knowledge—though it was hard to judge, as Papaldia seemed underdeveloped even compared to 19th-century Britain and France.

Economically, the centralized economy made it predictable what the ruling class would do—anything that benefited them personally. Thanks to this system, rural and frontier areas suffered from high unemployment and food shortages, leading to a low standard of living for most of the population. As for education, he still couldn't draw any conclusions. The places he had passed through were annexed colonies, so he couldn't gauge the state of Papaldia's education system, but he doubted it was any better than the Third Reich of that infamous painter.

Another thing that caught his attention was the social instability—crime was rampant, to the point where even adventurers, according to Vorosimorsk, were exhausted from dealing with such individuals. The numbers were overwhelming—too many criminals spread over a vast area. Given all this, he believed the empire wouldn't last much longer. The government would find a way to eliminate this dystopian garden.

As he was thinking this, Vorosimorsk handed him a piece of paper. "Here's the form. Fill in the information and head through that door. Just follow the instructions; don't worry about the details."

Vorosimorsk spoke with a slight smile, but Kavkaz didn't smile back. He simply nodded, then turned to signal the others to quickly fill in their information. Once they were done and handed the forms to the receptionist, they followed Vorosimorsk's instructions and headed through the door.

Meanwhile, as Voro-12 watched Rys-21 step inside, Kamarov couldn't resist mocking them. "So friendly and lively. They didn't even bother to say a word."

"Cut it out, man," Petrov said. "Let's just sit over there and wait while they do their thing."

With that, the four of them walked over to a round table and sat down. Rompev began cleaning his weapon while Vorosimorsk pulled out a book—12 Rules for Life by Jordan Peterson. Petrov simply rested his chin on his hand, lost in thought, while Kamarov propped his feet up on the table and did nothing. The four of them sat in silence, making the others in the room feel uncomfortable with their nonchalance.

Kamarov noticed the stares but didn't care. He glanced around, looking for something interesting to do while they waited. His eyes landed on the reception desk, where he spotted something intriguing—a radio. It would provide some entertainment while they waited for Rys-21.

He called out to the receptionist. "Hey, you," he said loudly. "Can I borrow that?" He pointed at the radio. The receptionist looked at him and understood his request but immediately refused. "Sorry, but this is expensive. It's not for casual use."

Kamarov was speechless. He couldn't believe something as simple as a radio was considered a luxury. He thought for a moment, then asked, "What if I paid a little to borrow it?"

She thought for a moment, then replied, "6 gold coins. Any type of gold currency will do."

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. "That's more than a month's salary." He scratched his head, clearly disappointed with the price, but he didn't want to just sit there waiting. He needed to see what this world had to offer. In the end, he agreed to pay the amount just to borrow the radio.

As soon as he placed it on the table, Petrov complained. "That's not a wise use of money."

"Shut up," Kamarov snapped, his face irritated. "It's my money, not yours."

He turned on the radio, and it played some entertainment programs, but none of it interested him. He switched channels, looking for something more suitable. As he flipped through, one channel caught his attention—a news channel. Based on the introduction, he learned it was Sancta Vox, from the Holy Milishial Empire—a country he couldn't quite remember.

But the news that followed immediately grabbed his attention. "According to the latest information provided by Saintess Blaze, the Papaldia Empire—located in Civilization Zone 3—has launched an invasion into the Republic of Tajikistan, an ally of the Russian Federation, a recently emerged nation. The attack has ended in a disastrous failure, resulting in heavy losses for Papaldia, with numerous soldiers, warships, wyverns, and mages destroyed. This marks the empire's first defeat after a century-long streak of victories. Could this be a sign of the collapse of a superpower? We will provide more updates in subsequent broadcasts.

In other news, there is another noteworthy development: Russia and the five southern nations that were displaced are likely strategic allies or even vassals of Russia. It may sound unbelievable, but much like the legends of Mu, it seems we are witnessing this unfold in real-time..."

"What the hell?!" Kamarov exclaimed, startled. "These idiots dared to invade Tajikistan, and it's our ally?"

The other three, upon hearing the news, were equally shocked. This was serious information they couldn't ignore. Vorosimorsk set his book down and commented, "It seems we'll have to leave sooner than planned. Both Rys and we need to head to the Papaldia region immediately to complete our mission."

"What about Lise? We've only been here for a few days," Rompev asked, concerned.

"That's enough. We don't have time to delay any longer. We need to act now, understand?" Vorosimorsk emphasized sternly. "As for Lise, we'll leave as soon as they're done with their tasks."

Petrov, looking a bit worried, asked the team leader, "Hey, rushing like this won't help us gain any benefits. It's best if we stay a bit longer before moving on."

Vorosimorsk immediately countered, "Our job is to serve the interests of our homeland. Nothing can shake that, or have you forgotten the values of a Spetsnaz?"

Petrov quickly corrected himself. "No, I haven't forgotten anything. It's just that I don't think it's that urgent at this point."

"Mobility is our advantage, so there's no room for that," Vorosimorsk sighed.

The four of them decided to wait and then leave. After about half an hour, Rys-21 finished and received their cards. The group then met Lise outside, and Vorosimorsk explained the situation to them. Though somewhat reluctant, Kavkaz's team understood what they had to do.

The group headed to a bank that Lise had accidentally found while wandering outside. The expressions of the Rys team were relatively surprised, as they still didn't fully grasp the situation, but Vorosimorsk's team looked even more shocked.

Kamarov exclaimed in amazement, "Holy crap, how is there a branch of VTB Bank here?"

The others had similar expressions—utterly confused, except for Vorosimorsk, who had already guessed part of the reason. He calmly offered his speculation. "It's probably because this area is outside the control of the Papaldia central government. Establishing a branch here wouldn't be difficult, especially since remote regions like this usually don't have good relations with the central authorities."

"Hmph... The central government draws up grand plans, while the locals scramble to... sabotage them! This kind of cooperation only makes the people sigh," Kamarov mocked. "It's like a teacher assigning homework to students—no one does it, but they still claim they forgot due to various reasons. Pathetic."

"True, I have to admit that," Petrov agreed. "It's truly pathetic when you don't even know what's happening on your own land."

"Alright," Kavkaz interjected. "I get the gist. So, the government secretly allowed VTB to operate here?"

"Possibly," Vorosimorsk replied.

"I don't understand what you're talking about," Lise frowned, her eyes showing confusion. "Isn't this a branch of the Milishial Holy Empire's bank?"

Hearing this, Vorosimorsk finally understood. "I see. Using another country's name to operate secretly. Enough of this, let's go inside, get our supplies, and leave."

"Isn't this strange, Captain?" Sergeant Kirill asked.

"I don't know, they seem to adapt well to these situations," Kavkaz replied, glancing at his other teammates—Kirill, Pavel, Aleksandr, and Dmitry. They were all looking at him, waiting for his orders, but he wasn't sure what to do in this particular situation. However, he knew he had to learn more about this world to adapt, just as Voro-12 had done.

Rompev, walking behind the team, noticed that Kavkaz's group was still in place and asked, "What's going on? Aren't you guys coming in?"

The others also turned to look at them. Lise began to mock, "It seems the people you respect aren't worth respecting after all. We're wasting time here."

"Shut up, will you? I don't know who taught you to talk like that, but it's not helping," Petrov frowned, cutting off Lise's next words.

"You guys don't need to argue," Aleksandr said, shrugging and walking off. The other members of Rys also shrugged and followed him. The members of Voro and Lise didn't pay much attention and entered the bank. Inside, the scene was quite different from the outside—a modern decor style contrasted sharply with the medieval mix outside.

For the Russians, the familiar scene lifted their spirits a bit, but for Lise, it was the opposite. She didn't feel comfortable with this setting, even though she had experienced it before. The Russian group approached the counter and noticed that this branch was different from others—the staff were locals instead of Russians. This created a slightly different feeling for everyone, especially Vorosimorsk, who found the situation intriguing.

The staff member was a young man who had just landed a great job—great in the sense that he was holding a bag of gold. A newly established bank from Milishial had expanded here to facilitate trade organizations, especially in this small town.

As he was basking in his own happiness, he noticed a group of people entering. Their appearance was immediately striking—strange outfits that looked like armor, with what he could only assume were guns in their hands, though he couldn't be sure. They resembled the stories he'd heard about Papaldia before they invaded his country.

"Damn empire," he cursed under his breath, his mood plummeting as he remembered the days before he got this job. Still, they were adventurers, as their identification cards hung around their necks. He glanced at their ranks—four E-ranks, five F-ranks, and one C-rank. There was no uniformity, but they carried a heavy presence—like Papaldian soldiers marching through.

The group approached, led by an older man who stepped forward. A sense of oppression washed over him, making the air feel heavy. Fear suddenly surged within him—a primal instinct to protect himself—but he suppressed it with the thought, No one would dare cause trouble in a superpower's bank. When the man stood before him, a deep, calm voice spoke—completely opposite to the earlier feeling.

"We have an item stored here. Please take us to it," Vorosimorsk said, his tone serious.

The young man was confused, not understanding what the man in front of him meant. Vorosimorsk noticed this and turned to Lise, holding out his hand. "The badge from before. Do you still have it?"

Lise was surprised by the question but quickly pulled out two badges and handed them to Vorosimorsk. He took them and placed them in front of the staff member. "Check them and proceed."

The young man looked at the two badges—one circular with a bat and some text, the other rectangular with three different colors. He was puzzled, not knowing what these symbols meant. He rubbed his forehead, trying to figure out their significance. Then he glanced at the bank's logo and noticed something. He picked up the bat badge and compared the letters. They matched. It dawned on him...

"Ah," he exclaimed, his eyes wide with realization. These were special badges that required careful handling—they belonged to people he had to accommodate fully and lead to the designated area. His mouth hung open for a moment, but he quickly regained his composure and stood up to greet them warmly.

"Ah, so it's you. I apologize for not recognizing you earlier. Please forgive my ignorance," he said nervously, afraid of what these people might do. "I'll take you there now."

He immediately stepped out and led the way. Vorosimorsk watched the scene, a slight smile forming on his lips. He turned to Kamarov. "Reminds me of someone from before."

"Please don't bring that up again," Kamarov clasped his hands, pleading in panic.

Vorosimorsk chuckled, then followed the staff member. The others quickly followed, feeling positive in the good atmosphere. Soon, with the staff member's guidance, the ten of them arrived at their destination—a door with a symbol similar to other banks.

"Stop here. We'll take it from here," Vorosimorsk said calmly.

The staff member nodded and quickly left. Vorosimorsk stepped forward, took out a key, and unlocked the door. Inside, the room looked like a regular living room, but its true purpose was different—it was a storage room for ammunition and supplies for special operations teams working covertly outside their territory.

Following standard procedure, Vorosimorsk's team went to the right corner of the room, pulled out a hidden cabinet filled with ammunition and weapons for various missions. Petrov pulled out another compartment, revealing a stash of rations for long-term use. Rys-21 understood why the command had mentioned state banks and resupply points—this was what they meant. As for Lise, she wasn't impressed. It was just resupplying, limiting excessive spending on other materials. But with five more people, consumption would increase significantly, and she didn't like the idea of more mouths to feed.

Kavkaz watched the Voro-12 members work. He didn't want his team to only focus on combat, so he turned to the others. "Alek, Dmitri—you two take the ammo; Kirill, Pavel—help me gather more supplies. As for you... I don't care what you can do."

"Whatever," Lise shrugged. "I'll help when it's within my ability."

"How long have you known each other?" Dmitri asked, suspicious.

"Not long, and I didn't volunteer to come along," she sighed. "Just do your job."

Rys-21 ignored her and started their tasks. The nine of them sorted the supplies and divided them equally. Once done, the group left the room and exited the bank. The staff member was still warmly welcoming them.

As soon as they stepped outside, they were stopped by a group of soldiers who looked tense upon seeing them. Both teams gripped their weapons tightly, ready for a potential fight. But it seemed these people didn't intend to harm them. A man in a suit stepped forward, holding a badge, and declared, "This is the Edin family. We have no intention of fighting. The Count wishes to speak with you."

The Russians looked at them, confused about their intentions. The man added, "This is a request for cooperation. If you agree, you will be rewarded handsomely."

They remained silent, seemingly unconvinced. The man understood his words carried no weight and was about to resort to force when Kamarov broke the silence.

"Rewards, huh?" Kamarov smiled, a bit mischievously. "Let's see what kind of requests these people have. And as Petrov said, it's still too early to leave."

Vorosimorsk looked at Kamarov and sighed in resignation. "Fine, we'll see what benefits this holds. Does your team agree?"

"No objections," Kavkaz quickly agreed.

The others relaxed, relieved they wouldn't have to face people with guns—a force they were sure to lose against. The man sighed and stepped forward to introduce himself. "I am Hand Cochirts, the steward of the Edin family. I hope we can cooperate."

Vorosimorsk stepped forward. "I am Vorosimorsk Solomon. I prefer to be called by my first name."

"Understood, Mr. Vorosimorsk," Hand nodded. "We'll leave now, but it seems there are more of you than expected, so we'll have to walk from here."

"No problem, as long as we can meet the head of the Edin family."

"Good, let's go," Hand said, walking between the soldiers. They quickly made way for the group. Vorosimorsk signaled everyone to follow, and they trailed behind Hand.

Kamarov slung his arms around Rompev and Petrov, his face beaming with excitement. "This is just like the anime my kid watches."

Kavkaz watched them walk off, sighing as Voro-12 and Lise led the way. "This is just weird."

"Can't help it, it's a fantasy world," Aleksandr chuckled, shrugging as he walked off. The rest of Rys-21 followed.

A while later, as they walked on the cobblestone road leading to the Edin family's estate, they noticed other adventurer groups along the way. Most were C-rank or higher—experienced professionals by industry standards. They were chatting among themselves, some casting curious or confused glances at the Spetsnaz group, while others whispered, seemingly recognizing them.

"Who are they?" a B-rank adventurer wondered.

"Don't know, but they look weird," a C-rank adventurer replied.

Other voices expressed their curiosity, speculating about the newcomers. Some recognized them.

"Those are the adventurers from Rowlia—pretty infamous for dirty work," another C-rank adventurer standing behind them said, eyeing Voro-12 warily.

"What do you mean? Are these people trouble?" the other asked, confused.

The man sighed and stepped closer to them, his face cautious, speaking softly so no one else could hear. "Let me tell you this, but don't let them hear you," he warned, "or the outcome will be very bad."

The others listened nervously as the man recounted the story. "This happened four months ago..."

The scene in his mind shifted back to that day. It was a peaceful day, news of the monarchy's collapse had just been announced, and a new government was being formed. The countries that had been invaded before were also returning, but this kind of news held no value for him. What he cared about was enjoying himself after landing a lucrative job. He went to a brothel and paid for two women to accompany him according to his preferences. But just as things were getting started, it happened.

The sound of rapid footsteps and clashing metal echoed through the building, the noise relentless and terrifying. Suddenly, from outside, a large demi-human man was thrown into the room. Before he could get up, something—similar to a Papaldian gun—was aimed at his head, and... Blood and brain matter splattered everywhere. The headless corpse lay there, causing him and the two women to freeze in terror, too scared to step outside. But what had to happen, happened.

The strange men—dressed in blue—entered, holding terrifying weapons. They coldly ordered them to leave. He complied, stepping into the hallway, where the scene was even worse. Blood was everywhere. He couldn't help but wonder, Who are these people? And what are they doing here? But he knew he wouldn't get an answer. He placed his hands on his head as instructed, trembling in fear.

He glanced around; the men in camouflage with terrifying weapons in their hands. He didn't know how powerful they were, but it was clear they could easily send him to meet his ancestors, so he stayed silent. Then he noticed something even more surprising. Other men, also in camouflage, wore adventurer badges—something strictly forbidden by the Guild's laws. These people had completely violated the rules.

He tried to eavesdrop on their conversation for evidence, but heard something else. Something even more shocking.

"How are the other positions?"

"Cleared out. This is the last one."

"Is this kind of work fun, Colonel?"

"Not as fun as you'd think, but it's a good place to gather intel."

"Seems like you and your team are doing well. Good... prepare to head to Civilization Zone 3 for work, and try to blend in with the locals."

"Easier said than done, but it's fine. Oh, excuse me, it's time to go."

"Ah, if you encounter people who know your secrets and are hostile, what will you do?"

"Simple. Kill. No survivors."

"Good, very good. Good luck."

He recounted every detail—everything that had happened, making the others look at the Spetsnaz group with fear. He sighed, concluding with one sentence. "Don't provoke them; they're scarier than they look."

The adventurers near him fell silent, not wanting to get involved with such people. What they would face at this point was worth discussing, but fate would have to decide when these terrifying people got involved.

...

2:00 PM.

They were led by the steward, Hand, to a luxurious room—similar to the one in Rowlia, though not as grand. Ignoring the aesthetics, inside the room were four people: a woman, a young man, and an elderly man—likely the head of the family.

Upon seeing them, the elderly man stood up cheerfully, extending his hand to shake with their leader. He introduced himself with a kind smile.

"I am Vonnaz de Edin, head of the Edin family of the Kachoirst Kingdom—before Papaldia invaded it."

"Alright, sir," Vorosimorsk shook his hand, though not comfortably. "I am Vorosimorsk Solomon. Can we get to what you want to discuss instead of these meaningless greetings?"

"Sharp as ever. You seem to be the oldest here, looking significantly older than the others. So... who's the youngest?" Vonnaz asked, a rather pointless question. The others glanced at each other before all eyes turned to Lise—clearly the youngest compared to the others in their thirties.

Vonnaz nodded, happily inviting everyone. "Good, now please sit down and rest... you can take whatever seats are available."

Once everyone was seated, Vonnaz looked at them seriously—his face grave as he cast a desperate gaze toward them. The look of someone who had lost something indescribable.

"We need your help to eliminate a large orc nest west of the city. Their numbers are around 300," Vonnaz stated. "They've become more active since Papaldia's garrison left earlier this year."

Under the light from the room's window, everyone felt the tension in the air. Vorosimorsk frowned, knowing that eliminating such a large orc nest was no simple task. "Do you have any specific information on their location? And why do you believe we can help?"

In fact, back in Rowlia, his team had faced orc groups of similar size, and it had taken considerable effort to deal with them. Now, they were being asked to clear out a large orc nest here. Vorosimorsk could only sigh, shaking his head at the Papaldia government's incompetence.

Vonnaz nodded, pulling out a map from his pocket. He spread it on the table, pointing to a dense forest area west of the city. "This is where we've detected the orc nest. They've attacked several merchant caravans and even kidnapped some locals. We've tried sending troops, but we couldn't approach due to their numbers."

Kavkaz looked at the map, feeling uneasy. "Three hundred orcs is a massive number. We'll need a solid plan and thorough preparation before acting."

"We can provide you with the necessary equipment and intelligence," Vonnaz said. "We'll also reward you handsomely for your help. Not just in gold, but in future relations and support."

Petrov was skeptical. "But why should we risk our lives for a mission the Papaldia government could handle? They have an army; why not send them?"

"The Papaldia government no longer cares about what happens here," Vonnaz sighed. "They're only interested in maintaining their power and have no time for minor issues like orc nests. If no one does anything, the people will suffer their brutality."

Lise, who had been silent until now, finally spoke. "I understand this is a dangerous mission, but if we agree, we need to know more about what we're up against. Has anyone in your family faced orcs before?"

Vonnaz nodded. "Yes, some members of our family have fought them. They gather in large numbers here," he pointed at the map, "so we believe that's their nest."

Vorosimorsk felt something was off. "Are you sure there's no trap here? We don't want to walk into a failed plan."

Vonnaz looked Vorosimorsk in the eye, sincerity evident on his face. "I understand your doubts. But we truly need your help. If not, many innocent people will suffer."

Vorosimorsk looked around, seeing his team members deep in thought. Finally, he decided. "Alright, we'll help you. But we have some conditions. First, we need full equipment before we set out. Second, we need time to plan and prepare."

"Agreed," Vonnaz replied immediately. "I'll ensure you have everything you need. We won't let you risk yourselves without preparation."

After the agreement, Vorosimorsk and his team began discussing their plan of action. They needed to learn more about the terrain, the orc numbers, and the most effective way to attack. Meanwhile, Lise started taking notes on the important information they'd gathered.

As everyone was busy preparing, Kavkaz couldn't help but feel this was a good opportunity to prove himself and his team. "If we succeed in this mission, not only will our reputation improve, but we'll also gain more opportunities in the future."

"True," Petrov agreed. "We need to do everything we can to complete this mission."

After some discussion, they decided to set out the next morning. Once everyone had agreed on the plan, Vorosimorsk stood up, looking each team member in the eye. "Alright, we should rest now. Is there anything to eat for tonight?"

"There is," Vonnaz interjected, pointing outside. "We've prepared a feast to boost the adventurers' morale before they leave."

"Sure," Petrov scratched his head, not particularly interested. But Vorosimorsk thought differently. "Good, we can use this to get closer to them."

"Really?" Petrov was surprised but accepted it.

"Then I'll..." Rompev was about to refuse when Kamarov stopped him, smiling. "Come on, you talk too little. Talking more will help you in the future. No choice."

Rompev looked at the team leader, but Vorosimorsk agreed with Kamarov, as did the others. He sighed reluctantly. "Fine."

...

The feast was lively, with wine and food laid out in grand fashion. Even the quietest places had to join in the festive atmosphere. The Russian soldiers sat at a round table, enjoying the lavish meal.

The conversation between Rys and Voro was the highlight, as the two teams got to know each other better, aiming for better synergy in future collaborations.

"Can't believe you guys treat ISIS like weeds. They're a pain to deal with," Kamarov said, taking a sip of wine and then stabbing a piece of beef with his fork.

"Come on, you're Spetsnaz too. Operations in the Middle East are dangerous, but not that bad," Kirill said, his mouth full of food.

"Hahaha. Can't compare to Venezuela, though. Those guys are the most dangerous—they even got heavy weapons. Even the Americans have trouble with them," Pavel added.

"Enough," Lise interjected. "What do you guys think about the other adventurers?"

The atmosphere suddenly shifted, the others sinking into their own thoughts. After a while, Petrov was the first to speak. "Hard to judge, but if you look at how they operate, it's easier to assess," he took a deep breath. "Generally disorganized."

"Why's that?" Lise was surprised, pressing for more details. "What makes you think that?"

"Look," Petrov pointed. "Their equipment is shoddy, and their skills aren't geared toward teamwork on a large scale. If you put them against a single squad, you'd see the difference."

Kavkaz countered, "That's not entirely accurate. Adventurers may be lacking in what you mentioned, but their adaptability is surprisingly good, especially the mages."

"I'm not saying they're better than us," Kavkaz affirmed. "But they're definitely better in many ways than they appear."

"Do I look like I care what you're saying?" Kamarov mocked. "How can they be a match for us?"

With that, Kamarov laughed louder, the alcohol getting to him, making him act more brazenly than usual—though he was already prone to mocking others, so no one paid much attention. The two teams continued bantering, ignoring the stares from the other adventurers.

The cautious glances from the adventurers; Rompev, enjoying his meal, also noticed this. He didn't really care if they were being watched, but they would be working with these people, so he wouldn't provoke them—especially since this mission would also be recorded in their identification cards.

He held the card in his hand. It contained all the information he'd entered earlier, along with their activities since registering, but it only displayed basic details. The only notable feature was its ability to record their missions and the number of monsters they'd slain. Honestly, this was a significant leap in technology compared to what they had.

Controlling members, identities, and activities was a success for a large organization like the Adventurers' Guild. So far, the number of monsters he'd slain was fifty of each type, mostly goblins and some creatures classified as monsters, like: wolves but much larger and more aggressive, bears but smarter, and many others he couldn't believe actually existed.

But even that wouldn't be enough to penetrate Kevlar armor, though it could still cause injuries, albeit not fatal. He didn't know how many the others had killed, but it was likely more than him, given their roles, not because he was incompetent.

He'd also grown closer to his teammates, understanding their personalities better. Each day, he felt more connected than the last, and their teamwork improved with each small battle. He wasn't fond of a fantasy world, but as long as his reason for fighting remained, he'd adapt to it—that was why he'd argued with his parents to join Spetsnaz.

Looking back, he'd been naive to think he could do something meaningful—until he went through Spetsnaz training. Each day was grueling, running 15 km with 14 kg on his back, followed by 450 push-ups, 200 pull-ups, 200 squats, and planks for five minutes each, repeated at least five times, climbing ropes 10-20 times with additional challenges, and sparring with others; training in close combat with various weapons.

To get through it all, he had to forge an unbreakable mental steel—ultimately isolating himself from his previous life. His relationships deteriorated, and he found it hard to express emotions, leading to a rift with old friends—people he didn't even want to think about anymore.

But he realized he didn't have any truly good friends, so being isolated from them turned out to be beneficial. However, that didn't mean he could relax. Every time he stepped outside, the conditioned reflexes from his training haunted him, never allowing him a moment of peace. He constantly envisioned potential attacks from all around, even when there was no real danger, making him hyper-aware of insignificant details. As a result, he often locked himself away, lost in his thoughts day after day.

His old college friends visited, concerned about his state, thinking he had fallen into something wrong, and tried to help him out. But in reality, he was doing nothing—just a fool wandering in his home, drowning in solitude. At least they tried to do something good for him, but it felt futile. It was a tough time to reintegrate into a rapidly changing society, but now he was fine; nothing bothered him anymore. Now, only the duties and obligations of a soldier—a son of the motherland—remained.

He decided to stop his thoughts and rejoin the festivities. The evening passed with laughter from each member, and he felt grateful to have people who understood him and helped him find himself in this gray world.

...

The next morning, the feast had ended, and it was time for the mission. Currently, he and the others were on a carriage heading to the orc nest—the main target of their mission. He didn't need to say or remind anyone of anything; everyone knew their roles and missions, as well as how they would participate in the battle.

After discussing with the other adventurers, his team—Voro-12 and Rys-21—would take the middle line, providing fire support for those in front. The warriors exuded confidence in their expressions, as if this was nothing special or even concerning. The other adventurers were still cheerfully discussing what they would take from the orc's lair. According to side information, the wealth the orcs possessed was immense, thanks to their ambushes on merchant carts and attacks on villages, which had provided them with enough riches to last a lifetime.

He didn't know what they would do with that wealth, but it certainly wouldn't be beneficial to let the orcs keep it; at the very least, it should go to those who could use it properly. Both teams confirmed their positions once more and bid each other farewell to move to their respective locations. He approached the best long-range fighters, the archers with weapons like crossbows, bows, firearms, and similar mages.

He didn't engage in conversation, regardless of their greetings—he simply walked to the designated spot. They looked displeased, but he didn't care; that wasn't his concern. They followed him helplessly; as soon as they reached the position, he raised his VSS rifle while the others did the same. He synchronized with his mind, gently signaling the others to follow suit.

"Fire," he whispered, just loud enough for the others to hear. Each bullet and arrow flew toward the orcs, quickly taking down the first few, officially starting the battle—the battle between adventurers and orcs.

Chaos erupted swiftly within the orc ranks, as if a storm had suddenly descended upon them. The monstrous creatures panicked, running in all directions, unsure of how to find cover against the relentless assault. Some tried to regroup, but the unexpected onslaught from the adventurers and military teams left them at a disadvantage. The vanguard quickly seized the opportunity to push forward, while the archers, mages, and sharpshooters behind them continued to provide precise and relentless fire.

Kavkaz and Vorosimorsk moved up front, closely following the adventurers, firing their rifles accurately to take down any orc attempting to retaliate. The bullets whizzed through the air, striking the leading orcs trying to organize a counterattack. Behind them, the mages unleashed waves of magic, with fire, ice, and lightning elements illuminating the battlefield, tearing through the air before the Russians' eyes. These powerful spells disrupted the enemy formations, plunging them deeper into chaos.

Kamarov, despite being highly focused on the battle, couldn't help but feel exhilarated as the explosions of magic erupted around him. Fireballs and lightning bolts flew overhead, detonating with force on the battlefield. The sounds of explosions, smoke, and bright flashes created an electrifying atmosphere, pumping adrenaline through his veins. With his AK in hand, Kamarov continued to fire forward, quickly eliminating moving targets and supporting the other adventurers in their advance. The adventurers seized the moment, charging forward with their weapons, overwhelming the enemy with their strength and skill.

The humans, demi-humans, and beastmen worked in perfect harmony, maximizing their strengths and characteristics. The demi-humans, mostly mages, unleashed powerful spells, bombarding the orc ranks. The beastmen, with their superior physical strength, charged to the front lines, crushing enemies with brutal attacks. The humans, with their adaptability and diverse skills, flexibly adjusted their tactics to the situation, using every resource at their disposal to fight. This seamless coordination created a dominating battlefield presence, leaving the orcs with no way to counterattack. The creatures they had raised, though fierce, could not turn the tide; they were pushed into a corner and forced to fight desperately.

Vorosimorsk, wielding a PKM machine gun, held the rear position, moving while unleashing powerful bursts of fire across the battlefield, inflicting heavy damage on the orc forces. The rain of bullets fell like a storm, shredding through enemy lines. Meanwhile, Kamarov and Petrov, ready with their bayonets, dispatched any orc that dared to approach, denying them any chance of retaliation. The members of Rys-21, the elite special forces of Russia, were equally impressive. Their close-combat skills shone in every moment, with many enemies falling to their hands.

After two hours of intense fighting, the onslaught came to an end, with not a single orc left alive. With a small force of just a few dozen adventurers and special forces, they had completely wiped out the orc nest. The brutality and speed of the assault left no room for mercy; not a single enemy was spared.

Once the orcs were eradicated, the group quickly began to clean up the battlefield, collecting loot from the fallen foes. The adventurers wasted no time in gathering everything of value, from weapons and armor to rare items. Voro-12 and Rys-21 were equally efficient, bringing back significant spoils. Everything was packed into large bags, ready for the journey back to the Edin family estate. Vonnaz, the head of the family, was generous, allowing the groups to keep all the loot. Everything unfolded swiftly and effectively, with nothing more to discuss—just a small mission before they moved on to greater challenges ahead. For the Spetsnaz team, this was merely a routine job, a light challenge before they faced larger, more difficult missions in the future.