Infinite Dendrogram_Volume 2

by Sakon Kaidou

  “Oh, but having you take care of them saved us the hassle,” he said.

  “...What?”

  “Well, we were actually planning to move out of here,” he explained. “By ‘we,’ I mean me and the other leader, of course. The underlings and the brats were just in the way, ya know? We planned to kill and eat them all.”

  The leaders were leaving their hideout and getting rid of their underlings? I thought. What drove them to do that?

  “So what’s the reason?” I asked.

  “Not telling,” he said. “Well, I don’t actually need any reasons. He said we’re doing it, so I’m just tagging along.”

  So the other leader was above him, while he merely acted as his right hand man.

  ...That relationship reminded me of a certain someone.

  “Thanks to you killing our underlings, all that’s left is to eat ’em,” he added. “Then just gotta take care of the brats in the dungeon... and the ones the boys just brought us.”

  He shifted his gaze towards the carriages behind me... specifically, towards the children inside.

  “I won’t allow that,” I said coldly. I made my Marshall II brandish the Battle Knife and aim the Hand Cannon at him.

  “Ha ha ha!” he laughed. “Thought as much. But...”

  Gouz lowered his center of gravity, and...

  “Y’CAN’T WIN AGAINST ME WITH THAT BROKEN PILE OF JUNK, YA DUMB SHIT!”

  ...with a roar that seemed to shake the fortress — no, the whole ground around him — he charged at me while perking his shoulders.

  In response to that unrefined — almost suicidal — attack, I swung my Battle Knife at him. Since the explosive shot from my Hand Cannon hadn’t worked, I chose to use my melee weapon — a means of attack with a more focused type of damage — to hit his weak point. Specifically, I aimed at his carotid artery, which was sure to become a fatal injury when damaged.

  However, the result was far from my expectations.

  “NOT GONNA WORK!”

  My Battle Knife actually broke — not by his horns or claws, but by the skin covering his carotid artery.

  “Huh?!” I exclaimed.

  A moment later, Gouz’s large body rammed into my Marshall II and greatly shook the inside of the cockpit.

  “MGHHHOOOOOO!”

  Though the robot was several times heavier than him, his power was great enough to overcome that difference in weight. After pushing the Marshall II for more than ten meters, Gouz grabbed hold of its torso and threw it in an uncertain direction. Following a momentary floating sensation, the Marshall II crashed into the ground.

  “Ghh! Ahhh!” Though the harness fixing me to the machine didn’t show any signs of letting go, the force of the impact made the air escape my lungs. I hurriedly tried to regain my breath, but my respiratory system didn’t seem to be functioning properly.

  I then tried to move the levers to make the Magingear get into a proper position, but it didn’t go too well. The Marshall II or myself — I couldn’t tell which one was broken.

  “Hugo!” said Cyco.

  “Heh... ha ha ha,” I laughed. “I underestimated him. This ox-head’s tough. Clearly among the best high-rank job wielders. He could even aim for a Superior Job if the conditions were right.”

  However, that couldn’t ever happen because the Superior Job of the gladiator grouping — Over Gladiator — had already been taken by that “Figaro” fellow.

  Still, there was no denying that Gouz was strong. He could easily defeat high-rank Masters such as myself. Honestly, I wasn’t certain if I could’ve won against him even if the Marshall II had been in perfect shape.

  This robot’s ability was equivalent to that of a Demi-Dragon. My level 7 Piloting skill increased its power by 140%, but that still wasn’t enough to match this man.

  “Hugo,” Cyco said again.

  “Yes, I can hear you, Cyco,” I responded.

  “Will you use the skill?” she asked.

  I was silent. I still didn’t know if that was a good idea.

  My power was below that of Gouz. The gap between us was made even greater by the damage I’d sustained.

  The Marshall II and I can’t hope to win against this tough man-eater, I thought. However, if I use the skill — my Embryo’s skill — the result will change drastically. My victory will become certain due to the fact that he is a tough man-eater.

  However, I’d made it a point not to use my Embryo’s skill until the project, and...

  “Man, I’m really workin’ up an appetite here,” he cut my thoughts short with his words.

  Hearing Gouz say that, I looked at him through the Marshall II’s cracked camera-eye. Despite being in battle with me, he was facing towards the other direction. Considering my condition, he might’ve been thinking that the battle was over.

  Gouz was messing with a corpse of one of his underlings. He removed the armor, stripped off the clothes... and sank his fangs into the flesh.

  “Mm, them’s good eatin’,” he spoke while eating, courtesy be damned. “It’s just so... complete. Wouldn’t expect less from my boys.”

  With those words, bite by bite, he devoured his underling whole. As the sight filled me with an urge to vomit, I looked at my equipment window and tested the levers to determine the Marshall II’s condition.

  More than 70% of the armor was lost, while the damage to the armor that remained was critical. The left arm wasn’t moving at all. The right arm’s movements were dull. The legs, however, were still mobile.

  As for weapons... the Hand Cannon had been lost along with the left hand. The Battle Knife had been completely destroyed. The Marshall II had been rendered useless for battle.

  “My choices are...”

  ...to use the skill or retreat without using it, I thought.

  I couldn’t use the skill because of the plan.

  I couldn’t let myself get the death penalty here because the plan was commencing tomorrow.

  Thus, I had to run away...

  But if I retreated, Ray was still here. There was the possibility that he could defeat Gouz. Therefore, even if I retreated...

  “Main course over — guess I’ll have dessert!” He cut my thoughts short again and took something out of the bag hanging at his waist.

  Once I realized what it was... my mind almost blanked out completely.

  The thing in Gouz’s hand was about the size of a ball. Small eyes — open wide and filled with terror, swaying hair — long and drenched in blood... It was unmistakably a human head. The head of a little girl.

  Gouz threw it into his mouth as nonchalantly as one would a piece of candy. The demonic fangs lining his oral cavity fell downwards, mashing the child’s skull with ease.

  “Man, it’s so good,” he said. “Kid meat’s tastiest when they know they’re about to die, y’know that? But my appetite ain’t quite sated yet.”

  Saying that, Gouz began making his way towards the carriage, and his intentions became immediately clear.

  “Gh...” The deed I’d just witnessed and the realization of what he was going to do made all the hesitation in my mind fade away like it had never been there. What took its place was pure, unadulterated wrath.

  “Hugo!” Cyco called out to me again.

  “Cyco,” I replied.

  “Will you use the skill?”

  “You already know the answer to that.”

  Though it was still severely damaged, I made my Marshall II stand upright.

  “Gouz!” I yelled.

  The ox-head turned around when he heard his own name called out.

  “Huhh? Ya still awake, ya Master piece of shit?” he asked.

  Awake? I repeated the word in my head. How appropriate.

  Indeed — I had been half-asleep until now. I hadn’t used the skill because of the plan. And because of the same plan, I’d chosen to avoid getting the death penalty and run away.

  How thoroughly absurd. That wasn’t me at all.

  The Hugo Lesseps I striv
ed to be wasn’t this unsightly an individual.

  Thus, I made my wrath known.

  “I declare that I will no longer tolerate you!”

  My words made Gouz laugh. “Ha ha ha! Big words, comin’ from a Master who treats my entire world like a little game! You aren’t the first of your kind to come here, and let me tell ya — none of the ones before ya were actually serious about whatever they were doing. You shits can’t die in this world, so what’s it matter to you? You can’t ever know the fear of death my kind know!”

  “Indeed,” I said. “We Masters all enter this world with the intention to play. However, there are some that listen to the voices of those who call this world their home. Some that grieve when hearing the dying cries of the weak. And some who use that to set what they really are.”

  Thus, I had decided on my role in this world.

  I was the thorn of a rose. A spike meant to pierce any and all scoundrels trying to ravage beautiful flowers and precious lives.

  That was the true Hugo Lesseps. The role I’d willingly given to myself.

  “Be aware,” I said. “For the sin of ending lives too many to count, I will send you into the bowels of Hell.”

  Following the set role, I faced the scoundrel — Gouz — and declared, “My hell will destroy you.” He would pay for all his sins.

  “DO YOUR WORST, YA PIECE OF SHIT!” Gouz screamed in exasperation, and charged at me once again.

  Another attack from him could completely destroy the Marshall II and kill me alongside it. However, that had no chance of happening at this point.

  “Cyco!”

  Cyco stood up on the robot’s shoulder.

  “Crest Disguise... Disable,” she said. Through the camera-eye, I could see Gouz’s face fill with surprise. It was only natural, considering what he’d just seen.

  Cyco suddenly appeared on the Marshall II and made the crest on her left hand — the proof of a Master — disappear.

  Indeed — Cyco was not a Master.

  A Master of that name simply didn’t exist.

  Cyco’s true identity was...

  “Cocytus, it’s time.”

  “Yes, Master.”

  Cyco — Cocytus — disintegrated to become a gathering of white and blue particles that showered the Marshall II, merged with it, and drastically changed its appearance.

  The surroundings were momentarily overwhelmed by a whirling blizzard, followed by a brief whiteout.

  In the center of it all stood Cocytus and I — taking the shape of a completely reconstructed Marshall II.

  The robot was now equipped with new armor reminiscent of transparent, white ice. In its hands and on its head were cross-like blades that were made of blue ice.

  Due to its replenished magic, the Marshall II’s output was now greater than it had been when it was completely unharmed. Its appearance was reminiscent of an anthropomorphized church made of ice.

  This was my Embryo.

  The true form of Cocytus — a Type Maiden with Chariot.

  “GRRROOAAAAGGHHHHHHH!”

  Despite what had just transpired, Gouz didn’t stop his charge.

  That was the correct reaction. Not knowing hesitation or fear, Gouz was a perfect example of a true warrior.

  He was strong, indeed.

  But it was already over for him. The moment I’d decided to use Cocytus’ power, Gouz had lost all chance of emerging victorious. It didn’t matter how tough of a man-eater he was.

  The stage was set.

  The gates of hell were opening to welcome another sinner.

  “Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes.”

  After reciting the words etched onto the entrance to hell — “Abandon all hope, ye who enter here” — I activated the skill.

  “La Porte de l’Enfer.”

  Moments later, Gouz’s life reached a bitter end.

  ◇◇◇

  Paladin Ray Starling

  The world of Infinite Dendrogram had a job system.

  Just as I had my “Paladin” job, so did other Masters and tians have theirs. The only people who didn’t have jobs were Masters who had just started Infinite Dendrogram and tian children.

  Jobs were many and varied. Vanguard roles alone had job groupings such as Knight — which included my Paladin job — Swordsman, Warrior, Gladiator, Pugilist, Samurai, and so on.

  Then there were job groupings for rearguard roles, support roles, crafting roles, et cetera... When summed up, they were just too many to properly grasp.

  The catalog my brother had given me had the conditions for acquiring every low-rank and high-rank job. The entries there amounted to several thousands, and — naturally — I still had trouble remembering them all. The number of active Masters was several hundred thousand, and I had a feeling that — if jobs had been split evenly among them — there would’ve been fewer than one hundred people on each of them. Of course, the actual job distribution was nowhere near “even.” Rook’s Pimp job, for example, wasn’t too popular among Masters.

  There was no denying that the number of jobs available for people in other MMORPGS was incomparable to that of Dendro’s freedom. But despite this overwhelmingly great amount, there was one job that was etched into my mind. It was one I couldn’t quite forget about.

  It was a job named “Necromancer.”

  Its selling points were its many debuff skills, offensive dark magic skills...

  ...and, of course, Necromancy — the skill that allowed one to turn corpses into tamed monsters at the cost of MP.

  It could be used on both people and creatures without any problems.

  Of course, the difficulty of turning a corpse into a tamed monster depended on how powerful the creature was when alive.

  On the other hand, that meant that children — being nearly powerless — could be turned into undead without much trouble.

  The catalog said that one of the conditions to get the high-rank job of the Necromancer grouping was related to the number of successful uses of the Necromancy skill. I’d read on the wiki that some tian criminals were Necromancers who used children and the sickly to increase that counter for that very purpose. Some theorized that getting the Superior Job of this grouping involved a similar condition.

  The implications of the idea made me sick, so I’d etched the existence of Necromancers into my memory. And now, it all came back to me.

  Trying to make sense of why the Gouz-Maise Gang was kidnapping children, I made my way towards the end of the underground hallway.

  ◇

  It was a straight path without any branches, so all I had to do was go forward.

  Although I didn’t encounter any bandits, I had to face some undead — adults this time — blocking my way.

  They’d probably been made from corpses that had gathered here when the fortress had still been occupied by the army. Then again, they could’ve just as well been the remains of the adventurers the bandits had defeated.

  I destroyed each and every undead in my way. Even if they had been people once, I couldn’t let them stop me. If I did, the dead would just keep piling up.

  Finally, I reached the end of the hallway, where I was greeted by a door. A heavy-set thing of wood, secured by a steel padlock, it separated me from the room behind it, where I felt the presence of living creatures.

  “Hhgh!”

  I swung my Nemesis down on the door itself, rather than the padlock. As pieces of wood scattered all over, I jumped inside and examined the surroundings.

  I was fully ready to cut down any gang members that were awaiting me, but the only living creatures here were caged children.

  There was a total of seven of them.

  From their closed eyes, I could tell that they were in deep sleep. I didn’t know which, but I had little doubt that one of them was Roddie — the one we had to save. Of course, I fully intended to save them all, quest-related or not.

  I found it a bit strange that the children seemed to be the only people here.

 
“Not a single gang member?” I said in confusion.

  “This room had a padlock on it, after all,” said Nemesis. “It might be fair to assume they left the child-watching to the undead.”

  “I guess that makes sense.” I cautiously examined the children and the condition they were in. Reaching through the grates, I gently shook some of them, but they showed no signs of awakening.

  “I assume they’re either drugged or under the effect of some debuff spell,” commented Nemesis.

  “Probably,” I nodded. It was just my intuition, but I believed it to be magic. After all, the one who’d done it was probably the one who’d made undead out of those children in the hallway.

  To him, they were just cards to use to get ransom money. And if it didn’t come, he’d readily kill them and use his Necromancy to desecrate their corpses. I was beyond disgusted.

  “Master, look to the right,” Nemesis said.

  I looked, saw another door — an iron one this time. Upon approaching it, I lightly spun the doorknob. The way it felt made it obvious that it wasn’t locked and that I’d have no trouble opening it.

  “Will you go inside?” asked Nemesis.

  “Of course,” I replied.

  I spun the doorknob and quickly kicked the door open. I had already broken one door. If there was someone in here, then there was no reason for me to act all stealthy.

  “Is that a...?” I began.

  The first thing I saw after entering was a person. A young boy, to be precise. He was sleeping — just like the children in the cages. In the middle of the room, on the floor under him, there was a highly detailed magic circle.

  “There’s a lot to be said about the tastes of the owner of this room.” Nemesis’ voice was steeped in anger.

  The magic circle on the floor wasn’t the only thing she was referring to. In fact, the magic circle was tame when compared to the rest of the scene.

  Stains of blood covered both the walls and the ceiling. Something’s leather was heaped against the edge of the room. A nearby barrel was overflowing with white bones. The table next to the wall was covered in utensils and materials, but nothing really stood out until I saw a taxidermy construction of a right hand with twenty fingers, which compelled me to shift my gaze away.