by Sakon Kaidou
The Dryfe Imperium was a country that had machine technology. Though there were many differences — such as the fuel of the machines being magic — the Imperium’s technology had similarities to what we had in reality. The clan leader had made good use of that fact.
He’d gathered various people who had knowledge about machines, which included graduate school students that had majored in mechanical engineering, skilled workers from automobile factories, designers of heavy machinery, and even those who were simply nutty about cars, trains, or weapons. And it was all for the goal of creating a new item.
Of course, people hadn’t gone to him just because he was recruiting. The clan leader had begun to receive a significant amount of applications when he’d revealed a specific project of his.
Its goal was to create a humanoid battle robot.
Back then, Dryfe hadn’t had any humanoid mobile weapon-type Magingears. When the game had begun, the only Magingears Dryfe had had in their arsenal were the powered suits nicknamed “Marshall” and the tanks known as “Geist.” While bipedal, human-like robots weren’t even being invented. Thus, the clan leader had made it his goal to create them.
Many people had been intrigued by the idea, so by the time the clan had been created, it’d already had dozens of knowledgeable and skilled people. They’d all quickly begun cooperating and working towards the common goal.
“All you need is knowledge, equipment, manpower, materials, money, imagination, skill level, luck, and guinea pigs!” the leader had announced when he’d kickstarted the project.
Clearly, it had been a demanding task. However, they’d been able to prepare everything they needed.
They’d mixed and matched their knowledges of machinery, compared and adjusted their magic technology, and performed lots of trial and error while trying to make it all click. There had been countless failures, great costs, and members leaving one after the other. However, they’d continued despite the many problems.
One of the senior members had compared the whole thing to something called “Project X,” and there had been many who’d nodded to his words. I had been uninformed and knew nothing about that show, but it seemed to click with those from his generation — especially the Japanese people.
And so, after two months in real life — half a year in Infinite Dendrogram — all the trouble has finally paid off as they completed a new item.
The name given to it was “Marshall II.” It was a mass-producible weapon with the power equivalent of a Demi-Dragon. The humanoid battle robot Magingear was a straight upgrade to a Marshall — the powered suit.
Once the Marshall II was complete and the Recipe became public, our clan quickly began growing into the largest one in Dryfe Imperium.
◇◇◇
The battle before the fortress was nearing its end.
“Hugo, five o’clock, one Gunner,” said Cyco.
“Oui.”
As Cyco scouted the fog and gave me directions, I acted accordingly by turning my frame and firing from the Hand Canon on my left hand.
The Gunner that was aiming at me with a magic gun failed to evade my attack, and the explosive shot from my MRW03 Hand Canon made him burst into little pieces, leaving only the arm that was gripping the weapon.
That gun is one of the Imperium’s older models, I thought. Looks like our technology is leaking through that country’s black market again.
“Six o’clock, two Fighters,” said Cyco.
“Got it.”
I made my upper half turn around and used the centrifugal force to cut them down with my SRW02 Battle Knife.
The first one was unable to react as it broke through his armor, flesh, bone, flesh, armor — in that order — and split him at his torso. The second one reacted and stopped my Battle Knife with his greatshield.
Unlike in reality, Infinite Dendrogram’s Fighters of this vein were tough. Though a Marshall II had power that made most heavy machinery pale in comparison, many Fighters could — evidently — block mine’s attacks and even harm it.
This one had both reaction speed and power.
However...
“Your legs are wide open,” I said.
Making sure he didn’t move by forcing him to struggle against the force of my Battle Knife, I used the Marshall II’s legs to step on his. The robot’s overall weight — which reached a whole ten tons — was far too great for his plated boots to handle, and his legs were crushed.
“HHHH?!”
The moment he released a voiceless scream and lowered the power on his shield arm, I used my blade — now free to move — to split his head in half.
“No enemies nearby,” said Cyco.
“Got it,” I replied. “Continue keeping an eye out. And dedicate extra attention to the direction of the fortress.”
“Oui.”
Apparently, I’d handled everything they’ve sent at me so far. The realization that I’d prevailed made me heave a deep sigh.
My Marshall II was standing in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by countless bandit corpses. I silently looked around. The one responsible for this horrible scene was me.
I was fully aware that there were things to be said about me killing so many people, but my actions didn’t make my heart hurt, nor did I regret them.
I’d known about the existence of the Gouz-Maise Gang before Rebecca had told me about them. In fact, I’d been aware of them before I’d even come to Gideon. During the research we’d done for the plan, I’d noticed them among the factions surrounding the city and engraved them onto my mind.
They had killed far too many children and far too many noble souls trying to save them. It was only natural for people who took the lives of other humans to — in turn — be killed by them, as well. I thoroughly believed that to be true.
Though, considering that I was an immortal Master, that belief might be insolent and contradictory.
“All right, now...” I muttered.
Though the result of the battle made it seem like my victory had been flawless, that was far from the truth. My own HP hadn’t dropped a single percent, but the damage to my Marshall II was severe. Due to the attacks it had sustained, about a third of its armor had come off, which had exposed the inner frame to considerable amounts of damage. The movement of its left arm had become quite slow, as well.
Special equipment like cars, ships, and Magingear didn’t have any HP displays, but if they did, my Marshall II’s gauge would be at about 30% of the total. That was a testament to just how difficult the battle had been.
Though a Marshall II was a humanoid robot straight out of science fiction, my opponents were all true inhabitants of this fantasy world. The axes they’d swung could break steel, and the arrows they’d fired had easily pierced through the robot’s armor. If my fellow clan members hadn’t increased the Marshall II’s stats by fine tuning it for better use by the clan’s Masters, and if I hadn’t given it the bonuses from a High Pilot riding it, I would’ve been overwhelmed by their numbers and lost.
I sighed yet again, reached into my inventory and took out an MP Recovery Potion.
Moving and fighting in the Magingear came at a cost to my MP. During the battle, it had dropped to a mere 20% of the total, and if I didn’t restore it, the damage to my Marshall II would be the least of my worries in the upcoming battles.
“Hugo,” Cyco addressed me.
I drank the contents of the bottle and replied to her. “What is it, Cyco?” “It wouldn’t have been this hard if you’d used your Embryo’s skill,” she said.
“Indeed.” I nodded in response. She was completely right. If I’d used my Embryo’s skill, I could’ve won without getting as much as a scratch on me. After all, it was basically the natural enemy of people such as these.
However...
“I can’t,” I said. “I will only allow myself to use that skill after the plan begins. I am not touching it before that. That’s an order from the clan leader, and I made a promise to follow it.”
“But no one’s watching — not even Ray.”
“Even so,” I said. “If I were to use the skill before the plan begins, it would have to be a situation when I simply have to do it.” And thankfully, it hadn’t come to that.
“How stubborn,” she said.
“I’m aware,” I nodded. “Now, I wonder if there are any kidnapped children in those carriages.”
I could easily help them right now, but doing so would made it obvious that using them as hostages would be effective against me. If another battle began while they were aware of that, the scum would begin using them to threaten me.
That would be fine if there were no more bandits left or if Ray had exterminated all the ones still at the fortress, but if some were still alive, trying to help the children in the carriages would be dangerous. I had to leave them there for now.
As such thoughts went through my head...
“...Heh,” I grinned.
“Hugo,” said Cyco.
“I know.”
I sighed slightly and moved the levers to make the Magingear replace the Hand Cannon’s empty explosive shot magazine with a full one it had hanging on its waist. Even while doing such a simple action, I couldn’t help but be aware that the left arm’s movements were noticeably duller.
“I could’ve put the Marshall II back in the Garage and fixed it up, but it seems I’ll have to give up on that,” I said. After all — I was all out of time.
Aiming towards the entrance of the fortress, I fired a shot from my Hand Cannon. It went through the open gates and exploded upon hitting the thing standing right behind them.
Any normal human hit by such an attack would’ve burst into pieces so small that none of them would’ve reached one kilogram in mass. However, that didn’t happen to the creature standing there.
“Damn, that hurts!” it said. “It’s kinda hot, too.”
With those words, the thing showed itself while displaying no signs of injury or pain.
It was a demon of a large stature. Despite its head being that of an ox, the teeth lining its mouth were all hound-like fangs.
Its height almost matched that of my Marshall II. It even had to bend a bit to fit through the fortress’ gates, which were twice as tall as the average person. A single glance was enough to know that it was on an entirely different level from the bandits I’d been fighting until now.
The sight of it made me tremble.
“...I assume you’re one of the leaders of the Gouz-Maise Gang?” I asked.
“Ayup,” it said. “Yer talkin’ to one of the two great leaders of the Gouz-Maise Gang — Strong Gladiator Gouz.”
◇◆◇
“Hugo, do you know about category-based personality analysis?” the clan leader had asked soon after I’d joined the clan. It had happened about a month ago in terms of reality’s time.
The clan had already become the largest in Dryfe. It was known for having played a great role in the war and was flourishing in terms of both budget and human resources. There was no end to the Masters trying to join, and the total number of members was quickly closing in on a thousand.
Back then, I had still been a rookie whose total Infinite Dendrogram playtime didn’t even break a month — a Master who’d just happened to join at that particular time. However, due to some things in reality, the leader had taken an interest in me and invited me into his clan. Because of those circumstances, he and I often had talks such as these.
“Is it something like blood type-based personality analysis?” I asked. “It certainly sounds like it.”
I wasn’t fond of the idea behind blood type-based personality analysis. Rather than trying to research my character by examining the traits I was born with, I preferred to strive to be someone I wanted to be. A person’s character was best left for the person to decide. Whether here or in reality, I sincerely believed that to be true.
“Blood types, eh?” said the leader. “I don’t like personality analysis based on that because the basis for it is extremely weak. I still think that brain — not blood — should be the first thing to look at if you wanted to know how a person ticks. Well, anyway...”
He reached into his inventory and took out a whiteboard. Then he began writing something down on it with a marker. He liked explaining things, so he always had those objects with him.
He also liked scheming, so he often used them to lay out the plans that came to his mind. It wouldn’t have been too bad if the schemes could be laughed off, but he often made plots which — while amusing to us — were nothing short of tragic to those affected.
A part of me was often disturbed by such plans, but the part of me that would stop him simply didn’t exist.
...Back to the matter at hand.
On the whiteboard, the leader drew a humanoid shape which represented a Master and wrote down several Embryo categories to the side of it.
“You know how, in the Zeroth Form, an Embryo examines the Master’s actions, character, and other personal things before using the results to go into the First Form, right? Well, some decided to turn it around, creating this idea that you can find out what kind of person a Master is by looking at the type of their Embryo.”
That made sense. Since Embryos were born from the inner workings of Masters, they were far more reliable than blood types.
“The idea was popular about one year ago in terms of real time,” said the leader. “I tried my hand at it, too. However, High-Rank Embryos and above had so many irregularities that I couldn’t make sense of them at all. There were even some Embryos like mine — completely unique in terms of typing. In the end, the only results that were somewhat reliable were those I got from four of the five base categories and a certain extra.”
The categories he wrote down were Arms, Guardian, Castle, Territory, and just “extra.”
“Boss,” I spoke up. “I don’t see Chariot among the five main categories.”
“Chariot, eh?” he repeated. “I actually didn’t notice anything definite among Masters with those Embryos. That’s why it’s not in my results.”
What a shame, I thought. I was actually quite curious about that category.
“Now, let me describe them for you,” he said. “Arms often belong to people who are courageous and unafraid to get hurt. Reckless, stupid, emotional, hot-blooded. There are many ways to describe them. Guardian Masters are the opposite — they’re cowardly, afraid to get hurt, lonely, or just want to have someone protect them. These two fit the general image, don’t you think?”
Weapons and defenses. When the nature of those Embryos was considered, that evaluation seemed to be quite correct. Though I couldn’t help but wonder where non-weapon Arms were in all of this.
“Castle Masters are introverted, gentle, careful, cooperative, and have an artisan’s temperament. Seems right, no?” he said. “Territory Masters have a lust for control, tend to hoard their stress, create rules for themselves, and are self-righteous and lone wolves. By the way, my Embryo’s first category was Castle.”
I see, I thought. So, depending on the person, there was room for objections. Especially when you considered the leader’s personality and aligned it with the description of Castle Masters.
“There are some hybrids that mix several categories at once, so it’s hard to be completely sure,” he added. “But anyway, that’s the main categories covered.”
“So, boss,” I spoke up. “What’s the extra category?”
“Maiden.”
His answer made my eyes widen, though only a little bit.
“Type Maiden,” he said. “A rare category you will encounter every now and then. These Embryos have two main features. First, they’re always hybrids that come equipped with another category. And second, their base form is always that of a human. Sure, there are Guardians that take the shape of humanoid monsters, but Maidens are always humans, through and through.”
I was fully aware of those features.
“Just so you know, the term �
��Maiden’ is only used when their human form is female,” he continued. “It’s different when it’s male, but those are just so damn rare.”
“So, leader... what are Maiden Masters like?” I asked.
“They don’t think that this world is a game. To them, the weight of the lives here is just as great as it is in reality.”
His answer made me silently gasp.
“So, got anything to say about my deductions, Hugo?”
I had trouble formulating an answer to that.
◇◆◇
Finally, one of the two leaders of the gang had left the fortress and introduced himself as Gouz, the Strong Gladiator.
“Strong Gladiator” was one of the high-rank jobs from the gladiator grouping. I’d heard that it focused mainly on hand-to-hand combat. What mattered more than the job itself, however, was the fact that he even had a job, which meant that — despite appearing so monstrous — he was actually a Demi-Human. That reality was also supported by the fact that he could hold a conversation.
“Man, did you make a mess here,” he said. “My boys were such a nice little bunch, and you went and killed them all.”
“You say that,” I replied, “but I don’t see a hint of anger or sadness in you.”
“Well, yeah, means I get a buncha free meals, right?”
...This wretch, I thought.
“A kid’s meat is sweet and tender, sure,” he continued. “But every now and then, I feel like sinking my teeth into the bitter meat of an adult. Did ya know that adult flesh actually becomes more bitter and tastier the more of a dreg they are?”
“Sorry, but I’m a vegetarian,” I snapped.
“Really, now? Surprised ya can stay healthy like that. Guess that immortality you Masters have comes packaged with some tough bodies, eh?”
So he knew I was a Master.
“I was watchin’ the whole fight from the fortress,” he went on. “Your movements are too good. Don’t hafta be a genius to see that you’re not the usual soldier.”
“Heh,” I grinned. “Then you could’ve come out before I’d killed every single one of your underlings.”