They held their ground.

The clash of swords echoed through the air. Every single one of them bore desperate expressions. Eyes bloodshot, wide open in a frenzy no less than that of an ogre, they clenched their teeth, swung their swords, and sent blood and sweat flying.

This was a situation that completely overturned my expectations.

One-on-one, students stood no chance against an ogre. Even in numbers, they were at a disadvantage. And in the ogres' dwelling, they had no terrain advantage either. Yet, through tactics centered around Ilga, not a single person had fallen.

The next generation was proving themselves quite capable.

"Ugh…! Second Team, move up!"

"Ohh!"

They coordinated well, with those in the front switching out with the rear when their stance faltered, somehow holding the line. Not only that, but they maneuvered their central column, deliberately luring in an enemy and then striking with four swords at once.

"They're tough…! My blade won't cut through!"

"Doesn't matter. Keep going. Even small wounds will bleed them out eventually."

To Letis' frustration, Bernard responded coolly.

"Uoooohhh!"

"Cut, cut, cut, cut!"

"Don't stop moving! Always stay in motion!"

It was a precarious balance, but an impressive one. Both Teams were growing rapidly amidst battle—I could feel it. And the one leading them was Ilga.

"Second Team, support the left flank!"

Even so, they were just barely managing. Barely.

One wrong move and everything would collapse.

Letis, mid-swing of her short sword, shouted.

"Damn it—! Just go down already! When are these things gonna die?!"

We lacked a decisive blow.

The only attack capable of piercing the thick, tough hide of the ogres was Bernard’s spear. The ogres had realized that as well; they no longer took their eyes off him.

To make matters worse, the weapons the ogres wielded were a serious problem.

"Gah…!"

A student who took a direct hit from a massive hunk of iron had his sword knocked away. It slammed into the wall before clattering to the ground. Immediately, a student from the back row stepped forward to cover, giving the unarmed student a chance to retrieve it.

However, the sword was already bent. Even so, he had no choice but to use it.

I shouted out.

"Don't block with your swords! The blades won't hold! If you can't dodge, at least deflect!"

"Guh…!"

A male student beside me was sent flying backward, crashing into those behind him and toppling them to the ground. The formation broke.

Clicking my tongue, I dashed alone toward the ogres, diving beneath their feet. Their attention shifted to me.

There was no time to execute Rock Cleaver. Like Oujin, I wasn't yet adept enough with the technique to use it instantly. Instead, I dashed around, slashing at their calves.

I felt a bouncy, rubbery resistance, but the blade didn't cut through.

Annoying.

"Eremia!"

At Oujin's sharp voice, I rolled to the side.

Moments later, a massive iron club slammed into the ground where I had been, sending chunks of stone flying in all directions. As debris struck my body, I leaped back, keeping low.

All I had done was buy time until the formation could be reestablished.

Each time the formation broke, Oujin or I would engage to stall the enemy. We had done this repeatedly.

However, judging from Ilga and the others’ exhaustion, we were nearing our limit. Their spilled sweat and blood had soaked the dungeon floor. Their breathing was ragged, their gasps sounding almost like sickly wheezes.

They trained constantly at school. It wasn’t a matter of lacking stamina. But real combat drained one’s strength in a way that practice without life-or-death stakes never could.

They had learned that by now. So—

"Oujin. This isn't going anywhere."

"Yeah."

Earlier, I said Bernard’s spear was the only thing capable of finishing them off. But that wasn’t entirely true. It was a needle-threading task, but Ilga’s thrust had pierced an ogre’s eye earlier. Even minor wounds, if numerous enough, could bleed an ogre dry.

We had already taken down six ogres. However, nearly twice that number remained. It was an impossible demand.

Teams One and Two had survived this battlefield and grown tremendously. Expecting more from them now would mean sacrifices.

Besides, there were still two more capable of delivering a finishing blow.

Us.

"It's time, Eremia."

"Yeah. They've fought enough. No need for them to die. Growth comes from surviving."

Oujin exhaled slowly, brushing his sword against the iron club with a quiet shara.

How skillful. I couldn't imagine deflecting that with a sword. Kuhaku Ichitoryu really was incredible.

"If Riona were here, she'd say we sound like old war veterans again."

"Shut up!"

Oujin chuckled slightly.

Then, just like when we had rescued that group from the goblins, his relatively small teenage frame let out a thunderous roar.

"Ilga! Bernard! Disband the formation and set up a defensive line! Shields to the front!"

"—!?"

Ilga turned to Oujin in confusion. In that brief moment of distraction, an iron club came hurtling toward his head.

But before it could connect, Bernard spun his spear, striking the club's shaft with the butt of his weapon.

"Hnnngh!"

A roar, sparks, and a deafening impact erupted right beside Ilga’s head. Immediately, Letis plunged her sword into the ogre. Though the tip entered, it wasn’t a fatal wound. The ogre recoiled but remained standing.

However, Ilga did not waver in the slightest.

"Wait! That formation will just put us on the back foot!"

Dodging another iron club swing, I turned my gaze to Ilga.

"It’s fine. Oujin and I will take them down. But we can’t stop them all—some will slip past us. Hold out for just a little while."

Of course, that was a lie.

If I abandoned all need to protect others, I was confident I wouldn’t let a single one escape. At least, not with Oujin by my side. But if we killed them all ourselves, Teams One and Two wouldn’t grow.

So, we would deliberately let a few through. Push them past their limits—one final lesson for today.

A Blythe-style lesson wasn’t as gentle as Lili’s.