So his only chance at victory was to break through that Incarnate jab.
Hey, Beast. Right hand still raised, guard up, Haruyuki again started talking to the intelligence that lived at the back of his mind within the Armor. Your attack estimate precision’s better than mine. Pick out just when he launches that jab. I’ll handle it after that.
He received no reply in words, but he did hear a definite, faint howl of agreement—although it was almost indistinguishable from the anger.
In the next instant, the overlay wrapped around Iron Pound’s left fist grew faintly thicker. At the same time, a vivid red line—the attack prediction line—cut through Haruyuki’s view.
Reflexively, Haruyuki straightened his right hand and it glittered in a spiral motion. Pound’s Incarnate jab came flying at him almost immediately after the prediction line appeared; meeting the attack after visually confirming it would be impossible. Haruyuki could only rely on his instincts.
As the palm of his hand moved from outside to inside in a circular motion, Haruyuki felt a prickly, burning sensation. It had touched the glove in the trajectory of its straight-line attack. But if he simply repelled it here, the fist would quickly be pulled back, only to have the next punch launched, and then the next.
So Haruyuki didn’t repel it; he pulled it into his own movement.
Focusing on the image of sucking Iron Pound’s jab into his palm, he bent its trajectory down and to the left. The high-level technique of interfering with and defending against the vector of the enemy attack rather than the energy it contained was known as the “way of the flexible”—guard reversal.
Even an old hand like Pound probably wasn’t anticipating that his jab would actually be sucked in instead of blocked. His upper body shook, and his footwork became disordered.
Instantly, Haruyuki shouted inside his helmet, “Flash Blink!”
The avatar clad in the dull silver armor became substanceless particles and moved a mere meter. He slipped by Pound’s body on the side—all to reappear behind him.
Whirling around as he rematerialized, Haruyuki pressed the tips of his fingers against his enemy’s defenseless back and cried out, “Laser Sword!!”
Compared with Pound’s Incarnate jab, Haruyuki’s Incarnate attack took far longer to activate. If Pound had immediately taken evasive action, he might have avoided a direct hit.
But the Perfect Match boxer’s reaction was slow precisely because he was so perfectly matched. In boxing, hitting the back was a violation of the rules. Your opponent would never actually go around and attack you from behind.
Naturally, Pound also knew all too well that there was no such rule in the Accelerated World. But it wasn’t such an easy thing to erase the reaction drilled into his real-world body. It was the same with Takumu, who been traumatized by the jabbing technique in kendo and so had stiffened up in the face of Dusk Taker’s piercing attack to his throat. And that was to say nothing of the irregularity of an attack on the back after a very short teleportation.
The momentary stiffening that came over Pound was Haruyuki’s greatest and last chance in this duel. The jet-black blade that surged out of his right hand made contact with a crash.
Even the iron armor and its superior physical defenses could not defend against an Incarnate attack launched from a distance of zero meters. The sword pierced the critical point of his heart, and Iron Pound threw his head back, a cry of anguish slipping out.
“Ngah!”
But Pound was level seven. He did not die in that one blow, but instead tried to get distance with a desperate forward dash.
Normally, Haruyuki wouldn’t have been able to follow with a pursuing attack, given that his right arm was fully extended and his big technique was newly spent. But in another reaction of instinct, he fluttered his right wing with all his might. The kinetic energy generated gave his avatar just enough torsion power to attack. Generating instantaneous thrust with his flying ability in the middle of battle to maneuver in three dimensions was Haruyuki’s own original technique, Aerial Combo.
Haruyuki roared, transmitting the sharp spiral force from his back into his shoulder and then down into his right arm. “Unh…Aaaaaah!!”
Skreeeenk!! The earsplitting sound of metal ripping apart metal reverberated and then disappeared.
Silence fell over the roof of the evening-clad Mori Tower. The silhouettes of the two fighting melted into each other completely and cast a long shadow on the broad floor.
Both arms dangled loosely from Iron Pound’s sides, and the strength slid out of his legs as well. Supporting this tough body was the right arm of Chrome Disaster, penetrating deep into his chest from behind. The sharp talons had dug into the opening gouged out of the Armor by the Laser Sword.
Arm buried in Pound’s body from the flat of his hand up to his shoulder, Haruyuki abruptly heard a low voice in his ears.
“If you’ve…mastered…this kind of technique…then why…the power of darkness…” Having gotten this much out, the Perfect Match boxer turned into countless polygon fragments and scattered.
Once the massive light effect was over, all that was left was a small flame—the dull gray of Iron Pound’s death marker flickering at Haruyuki’s feet. Looking down at the flame, Haruyuki shot off in a cracked voice, “What cultivated the Catastrophe to this point…was probably your rejection and lack of understanding.”
Naturally, the shimmering marker no longer responded. But Haruyuki continued quietly. “This darkness…is definitely in anyone’s…”
The rest was swallowed up in his chest, because in the back of his mind, the Beast raised its sinister voice.
I know, Haruyuki responded to that voice. The real show starts now, huh…
He turned around, armor clanking.
His gaze landed on an enormous figure carrying a massive cross-shaped shield, arms casually folded. The Green King, Green Grandé, nicknamed Invincible. Although his right-hand man had just been taken down before his eyes, those amber lenses were filled only with a tranquil and mysterious light.
According to the fragmentary memory Haruyuki shared with the Beast, the Green King was the lone Burst Linker who had been present at the destruction of all of the first four Chrome Disasters.
He hadn’t attacked them directly, but he had held fast against the attacks of the rampaging Disaster with his great shield Strife and created the moment for those fighting with him to attack. In other words, if the Green King hadn’t been there, the destruction brought about by the Armor of Catastrophe would likely have been two or three times as great.
The Green King himself was, for the Armor and the Beast that lived in it, a most bitter enemy. The howl that echoed and bounced through Haruyuki’s mind was filled with such murderous lust that he was unable to control it. It threatened to explode even now.
Control yourself. This guy for sure, we can’t beat him by just attacking at random, Haruyuki said to the Beast, and slowly approached the enormous green avatar one step, then two.
“If you guys aren’t in league with the Acceleration Research Society like Iron Pound said,” he began in a low voice, staring at the king, who didn’t so much as twitch, “then why did you get in my way before?”
He waited three seconds, but of course, no answer came back to him. At the meeting of the Seven Kings a few days earlier, Green Grandé had said not a single word from start to finish.
“I guess it’s pointless to ask. Which means I’ll just have to have you tell me with your fists.” He muttered it half to himself, before dropping his stance to take on a battle posture.
But just before he could—
“If you wait a little longer, you’ll understand the reason.”
Although it was colored with a strong effect, the voice was clear and bright. There was no mistake. It was the same male voice as the one that had called out the name of the large-scale Incarnate technique Parsec Wall earlier. However, because it sounded like it was gradually rising up from the field at his feet rat
her than coming through the air, Haruyuki couldn’t be sure that it had come from the avatar before his eyes.
He stared hard, but the Green King still did not twitch, as usual. His bulk, arms crossed, was turned toward the northeast, at an angle of thirty or so degrees away from Haruyuki. Unconsciously following the man’s gaze, Haruyuki understood that he was staring at another mixed-use commercial building soaring up and sandwiching Shuto Expressway No. 3, the main tower of Tokyo Midtown.
The enormous spire, decorated with the sharp ornaments characteristic of the Demon City stage, caught the light of the sun as it was on the verge of setting and glittered redly. The roof, unlike that of the Roppongi Hills Mori Tower, tapered into a narrow needlepoint, and other than the small flying Enemies circling it, there was absolutely no movement in the building.
But somewhere inside that tower was the main body of the ISS kits, as it blackly devoured the Accelerated World. If it was completely destroyed, the terminal kits currently infecting a minimum of fifty Burst Linkers would have also stopped functioning.
The Haruyuki of that moment was not particularly interested in trying to save the Accelerated World or anything of the like. Just the opposite, in fact—more than half his brain was ruled by a destructive urge to systematically slaughter any and all Burst Linkers who stood in his way as enemies, and he didn’t care anymore if Brain Burst itself declined or disappeared as a result. But he first had to slaughter the Acceleration Research Society, which had made and distributed the ISS kits. It wasn’t just about the kits. They had set a cowardly trap for…and as they inflicted incredible pain and suffering on her, over and over and over…
“Ngh!!”
Suddenly, a fierce pain, a high-voltage current, pierced him from the depths of his back to the center of his head, and Haruyuki’s entire body stiffened.
The Beast, which he had kept under control to a certain extent up to that point, let forth a ferocious roar. Because the pitch of the cry, filled with overwhelming rage and bloodlust, was much higher than any that had come before, it sounded even more like a sobbed shriek.
The dark aura constantly blanketing the Armor of Catastrophe became ebony flames and spurted outward. The edges of the Armor covering his body seamlessly stood up like sharp blades, and the talons of his hands and feet took on an even more sinister form. The tail on his back flew whiplike out on its own, wound around the hilt of the longsword, and plunged into the ground a little ways off.
It yanked the blade out with a rasp of metal and stabbed it down once more, immediately in front of Haruyuki. The blade, dark yet mirror smooth, reflected the figure of Chrome Disaster, stooped body spasming irregularly. In the darkness beneath his cracked visor, eye lenses foreign to Silver Crow blinked strongly, tinged with an ominous crimson light.
“Grar…raaaaaaaar!” the Beast—and Haruyuki himself—roared, low and heavy. Thought and reason were blown away, and his head was filled with only a boiling bloodlust. It was clear that this was the “overflow” phenomenon, a fitful rampage of the negative will, but Haruyuki was no longer capable of being aware of this fact.
Forgetting even the presence of the Green King standing nearby, Haruyuki spread the metal wings on his back. He pulled the longsword in front of him out with his right hand and swung it to the side, readying himself to fly off the Mori Tower to raid Midtown Tower. But before he could—
“Wait. It’s not time for that yet.”
“…Grar…” Haruyuki turned to his right, a howl thick with bloodlust slipping out.
The Green King turned his heavy face mask toward Haruyuki. The mysterious amber eyes were quiet in contrast with the Disaster’s. There was no rage, no impatience, not even concern there. He was simply standing calmly, an ancient tree in the forest that knew everything and watched over all.
But for Haruyuki at that moment, the Green King’s attitude appeared to be a challenge he could not shut his eyes to. If he was going to interfere, then just cut him down. Spurred on by a senseless impulse, Haruyuki slowly brandished the sword in his right hand. He also placed his left hand on the hilt and creakingly bent his body, so that with a single blow containing all his power, all his speed, all his Incarnate, he could slice his enemy in two.
Of course, Haruyuki had no experience training with a sword in either the real world or the Accelerated World. So this technique was a borrowed power, as Iron Pound had perceptively pointed out earlier. It wouldn’t work in a battle competing at the ultimate speed.
However, right now at least, Haruyuki was already more than 90 percent not himself. His rampaging Incarnate had brought “Silver Crow wearing the Enhanced Armament Disaster” closer to the “true Chrome Disaster” than ever before.
Haruyuki didn’t know their name, but the third Disaster had been a blue-type double-handed sword user. Renowned for their skills, they could stand alongside even the Blue King, Blue Knight—aka Vanquisher—and in the end, they were banished from the Accelerated World by the sword of that very king.
The technique the third had left in the Armor moved Haruyuki’s body now. It was the same as with the Flash Blink of the first, the second’s ability Flame Breath, and the fifth’s Wire Hook. By syncing tightly with the Armor, or rather the Beast living inside the Armor, he could make the powers of the previous Chrome Disasters his own. This itself was the true power of the Armor of Catastrophe—no, of Haruyuki, who was now the sixth generation.
The Green King also seemed to recognize the rampaging depths Haruyuki had fallen to. He set his right foot out a step and now turned his entire body to face Haruyuki. The avatar was more than half-hidden behind the massive cross shield, but regardless, Haruyuki drew his own body back like a bow. The tip of the brandished longsword went over his back and touched the floor, lightly stabbing into it. Bent as far back as he could go, the avatar strained and creaked dully. The instant this tension had reached its limit—
“Gr…aaaaaaaar!!” Roaring out of him like an explosion, Haruyuki released every ounce of strength he had.
He charged forward with utmost determination, riding the propulsive force of his wings. The virtual air was compressed and rebounded, turning into a shock wave to rip a V into the hard floor of the roof.
The distance between them, more than ten meters, was a bit too much for a close-range-type attack. But Haruyuki closed the gap in nearly zero time, and Green Grandé appeared to never have had any intention of trying to get out of the way, at any rate. Even as he watched the blade cutting out a jet-black crescent as it poured down, his feet did not even twitch; he merely raised the great shield on his left arm a little higher.
Enhanced Armaments often changed color to match the avatar who owned and equipped them, and the Green King’s great shield and the Blue King’s double-handed sword were thought to be of this type. But the shield blocking Haruyuki’s way now looked like it shone a slightly clearer, deeper emerald green than the king’s armor.
Against this green wall rising up, with a sense of presence like a deep, ancient forest, Haruyuki brought down the longsword with the absolute maximum attack power he could currently produce.
A pure and vast energy, impossible to depict with sound and light effects, sprang up where shield and sword touched. Distorting space itself, abnormal vibrations threatened to shatter the world as they radiated outward, and the top half of the enormous Roppongi Hills tower shuddered in rippling waves.
And then the building, which should have been stronger than any other due to the characteristics of the Demon City stage, broke from its midsection into a myriad of minute fragments.
Having lost their foothold, Haruyuki and Green Grandé began to slowly fall among the object fragments raining down. However, they fell with sword and shield still locked; neither moved a muscle. The Incarnates of the two avatars facing off overwrote the reactions that normally would have occurred, allowing them to remain fixed in place as they fell.
In a movement reminiscent of sprouting vines, the green aura radiating from the great shield
Strife went to wrap around the longsword that had once been called Star Caster. The inky black overlay that surrounded the blade burned the green back time and again, but the verdant aura sprouted endlessly and showed no sign of withering. So much like an enormous tree—the World Tree supporting the nine worlds in Northern European mythology.
I support the world.
The instant these words cut through Haruyuki’s mind, an image—or maybe a memory—infused within his consciousness. A vast, incredibly vast, time, and a battle repeated ad infinitum within it. But his opponent was not a Burst Linker. It was an enormous monster with a form that was not human—an Enemy.
Finally, the pair landed with a heavy thud on the mountain of fine rubble that was once the top half of the Hills Tower. At the same time, their auras waned, and, following suit, sword and shield also pulled back. Compared with the scale of destruction, it was an almost impossibly quiet curtain falling. When Haruyuki came to, the storm of anger raging within him had died down as if it had never been; even the Beast was silent.
“Taking a blow like that so coolly,” he murmured. The dark effect had faded from his voice, and even the phrasing brought his own sensibilities to the front. But unaware of this, Haruyuki lightly jumped back to gain some distance. The sand crunched softly when he landed, and he lowered his blade.
Also lowering his shield, the Green King shook his head solemnly, eyes still on Haruyuki. He indicated a spot on the shield with his right hand, as if to say he was not cool.
When Haruyuki looked very closely, the upper edge appeared to be chipped a mere three millimeters or so in one place. Having made nothing more than a scratch that could hardly even be called a scratch, Haruyuki felt he had just been told you win, and he grinned wryly, unconsciously.
“I was trying to cut you down along with that shield, you know,” he remarked as he glanced around.
Due to the surplus energy of their clash, Mori Tower had been reduced by 50 percent, half as tall as it had originally been. The surrounding buildings also leaned and crumbled on one side.
The Seven-Thousand-Year Prayer Page 6