by Sakon Kaidou
“Which are?” I asked.
“One: you must know the conditions in which your opponent is strongest; two: you must know the conditions in which you are weakest; and three: you have to be able to predict your opponent’s ultimate attack.”
“Hm...” I could understand the first one. Basically, I had to avoid being where the enemy wanted me to be. The thing that came to mind was my fight against the Demi-Dragon Worm. Though I’d emerged victorious, there had been the lingering possibility of me getting pulled underground, like my brother was. Even with Nemesis with me, the chances of me winning while fighting in absolute darkness — their natural habitat, at that — would have been extremely slim.
The second one made sense, too. It reminded me of the time I’d gotten killed by the Superior Killer. While being outside my attack range, he’d attacked me with countless bullets against which I’d been able to do absolutely nothing. With my only defensive option having limited uses and my offense being exclusively melee, it was only natural that I’d died back then.
By now, I could move far better than before and my range was slightly greater. However, it would be hard to say that I’d stand a chance against a long-range fighter such as him.
All that said, I didn’t know what she meant with the third point.
“‘Ultimate attack’?” I raised an eyebrow.
“Just about every strong battle-oriented creature has one,” said Marie. “Masters, tians, bosses such as UBMs... They all have some trump card which they have absolute confidence in. Enough to think that the battle would be over the moment they use it.”
The term “trump card” reminded me of my and Nemesis’s Vengeance is Mine skill.
“So, it’s basically a strong skill?” I asked.
“It could be a skill, a weapon, or maybe even a tactic. The stronger the creature, the more of these they have. Embryos even have skills that are actually called ‘ultimate skills.’”
“‘Ultimate skills’?” I repeated.
“Oh?” Nemesis’ eyes lit up, and she momentarily stopped eating sandwiches to join our conversation. Apparently, the subject of ultimate skills had caught her curiosity.
“Ultimate skills are the greatest, strongest skills of an Embryo, and they’re always named after the Embryo itself,” continued Marie. “All of them — without exception — have a powerful effect that strongly expresses the Embryo’s dominant characteristic.”
Well, that sure makes them sound intriguing, I thought.
“Actually, you saw one in one of the videos I showed you — the one where Figaro fought against the leader of Mad Castle,” she added. “It was the last skill that the leader used.”
Yeah, I remember that, I thought. It had been a rush of attacks that the leader had done after momentarily binding Figaro in place. In the end, Figaro had evaded it, but the skill had left a giant crater where he’d stood.
“Hmm... So my ultimate skill would be called ‘Nemesis,’ correct?” asked Nemesis.
“Yes, that’s exactly how it would be,” nodded Marie.
“Nemesis” worked pretty nice as a skill name.
“But I feel like some Embryo names wouldn’t really work as skill names,” I said. “For example, ‘Momotaro.’”
“Oh yes, such cases definitely aren’t unheard of,” said Marie. “For example, one of Granvaloa’s Superiors, ‘The Great Seven Embryos of Granvaloa,’ has an Embryo called ‘Abura-Sumashi.’”
“A-Abura-Sumashi...” I repeated the name and, sure enough, I didn’t feel a hint of power behind it. If I recalled correctly, it was just the name of a yokai with a big head.
“Oh, the name probably makes you think it’s weak, but just so you know, Abura-Sumashi is actually among the top ten strongest Embryos I know,” said Marie.
“Are you serious?” I asked.
“Very,” she nodded. “After all, it turns any liquids it touches into explosive material. Seawater, bodily fluids — you name it and it can turn it into an explosive that makes nitroglycerin pale in comparison. There was a time when the Master used it to turn all the seawater in a radius of 500 meters into explosives and blew a horde of monsters to bits.”
That’s just freaky, I thought.
“Also, I’ve heard that back when he had a dispute with a certain pirate clan, he fought one of its members, changed the pirate’s bodily fluids into explosives, let the pirate run away, and then used him to blow the clan’s hideout to bits.”
Savage.
“Due to that, Abura-Sumashi’s Master got the nickname ‘Human Bomb’...”
Sounds like trauma material, I thought. I feel like I won’t be comfortable looking at abura-sumashi illustrations ever again.
“Well, just keep in mind that a name has no relation to strength,” concluded Marie.
Yeah, you don’t need to tell me twice.
“Anyhow, I’m really looking forward to the time I get my own ultimate skill,” said Nemesis.
“As you should,” said Marie. “However, at the earliest, you would get it after becoming high-rank, so it might take a while.”
“I imagine it will,” I nodded. “Wait. Marie, you said you’ve been playing Dendro for more than a year, right? That’s three years in this world, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“If you’ve been at it for that long, you should have your ultimate skill already, right?”
“Hm? Now that you mention it, I’ve yet to see Marie’s Embryo,” said Nemesis.
Marie’s reply to that was silence. Though she was smiling in the same way she always did, for one reason or another, a great amount of sweat was running down her face.
I guess wearing a suit in this spring-like weather made her heat up a bit, I thought.
“Uhh... I, umm... my Embryo is... it’s called uh… Arc-en-Ciel and, uh...”
“French for ‘Rainbow,’ huh?” I said. “That’s pretty cool.”
So Embryo names aren’t limited to myths and fairy tales, huh? I thought. Of course, rainbows are common in legends, so maybe it’s not actually an exception.
“As for what kind of Embryo it is, well... uh...” muttered Marie, for some reason showing hesitation about saying it.
“Hello! Sorry we took so long!” Rook cried.
“I’m sooo hungry! Let’s have some food, Rook!” Babi added. At that moment, the other people we were waiting for arrived at the café.
“Now, wheeere aaare they?” asked Babi while looking around.
“Oh!” exclaimed Marie. “If it isn’t Rookie and Babi! Good morning! Are you hungry?! You are?! Let me get you something, then! The sandwiches here are really good! I’ll go and order some right now!”
After saying all that in one breath, Marie stood up and ran to the café’s counter.
“Ah ha ha! Looks like Marie is in high spirits today,” said Rook.
“She was nowhere near like that until just a second ago...” I commented.
Well, it’s not like being in a good mood is a bad thing, I thought.
Marie, still in that weird state, came back with even more sandwiches than Nemesis had eaten, and we all had to do our part to make sure the food didn’t go to waste. However, the exchange of information continued even as we ate, and I ended up telling them about what had happened yesterday.
“Eh? Ray, you can use the Purifying Silverlight?” Marie cried.
“Well... yeah?”
Marie looked absolutely puzzled. Rook heard me, as well, but with him not being the type to eat all that much, the sandwiches he’d forced himself to consume had made him drop his head on the table and thus not take part in the conversation. Nemesis and Babi were merely too focused on eating.
Anyway, the current subject was the Purifying Silverlight. It was the skill I’d learned when I’d cremated the undead children in that underground hallway.
Purifying Silverlight was an anti-undead skill, and a ridiculously good one, at that. It had been simply invaluable in the grueling battles I’d won yesterday. After
all, it had not only made my attacks do holy damage, which worked even on spirits, it had also multiplied all damage done to undead by 10.
Again — 10 times greater damage on undead.
Though it hadn’t worked with Vengeance due to its damage being fixed, it was still an insanely good buff for my standard attacks. And that wasn’t the end of it, either. If an undead was hit by Purifying Silverlight, the wound could never be healed.
Though Gouz-Maise — the affront to sanity that it was — had been able to heal by removing the entire injured part, all the other undead had vanished before they could even exhibit the toughness unique to their kind.
Yesterday’s battles wouldn’t have gone nearly as well if I hadn’t had Purifying Silverlight at my disposal. As useful as Vengeance and Purgatorial Flames were, it was doubtful if they would have been enough for me to even live long enough to face Gouz-Maise.
Marie silently stared at me. That reaction weirded me out. She looked seriously surprised about something.
“How did you become able to use Silverlight?” she asked.
“Well, I got a message saying ‘Eliminate 100 appropriate monsters...’” I answered.
“Can you show me your counter?” she asked.
“My counter?”
...Of what? I thought.
“Open your menu window, go to the battle history screen, and you’ll find the creature type kill counters among the extras.”
“Oh, this, right?” I opened it and, sure enough, there were creature types such as undead, beast, avian, dragon, devil, elemental, demon, human, etc. with appropriate numbers beside them. My greatest one was undead: 158. It was followed by beasts and demons.
“So, are these the total numbers of monsters I’ve defeated?” I asked.
“Yes,” Marie nodded. “Supposedly, the condition is ‘defeat a certain amount’... but this number seems way too small.”
As she muttered things like that, I shifted my gaze back to my kill counters. “There’s one for humans, too, huh?”
On the window, my human kill count was 0. Apparently, though originally being human, the Lich Maise had counted as undead.
“What kind of creatures does the human counter cover, anyway?” I asked.
“A human is any creature that can have a job,” answered Marie. “So if you see someone with a job, it’s a human. Or ‘humanoid,’ as they’re technically called.”
“Then why didn’t the Lich I killed count as human?”
“Oh, that’s because the job comes with the effect of turning the human that takes it into undead, so he stopped being human the very moment he became a Lich. It’s one of the very few exceptions.”
That made me assume that there were scenarios where unfortunate humans that merely happened to look like monsters got attacked for that very reason, and I didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Oh, but it’s not like a Lich is completely like your usual, monster undead,” added Marie. “You know how monsters have their names hanging above their heads? Well, with them originally being human, that doesn’t apply to Liches.”
Oh yeah, I totally forgot about that, I thought. Guess those scenarios are pretty rare, then.
“But man, it actually keeps track of the number of humans you kill,” I said.
“Just so you’re aware, it includes the kills made within the barriers of duel cities such as this one,” Marie explained. “So a high human kill count doesn’t always suggest that the person is a murderer. After all, once the duel is over, things go back to being the same way they were before.”
“Oh, I see,” I nodded.
“So many of those who frequent this city have probably killed hundreds of people,” she added.
Well, that sure is a grim way to put it, I thought.
“I have a question.” Rook raised his head and joined our conversation. “How do kill counters for tamed monsters work?”
“When they’re used under the minion capacity, their kills are counted as the owner’s kills,” answered Marie. “When they’re used as party members, however, their kills are counted as their own. You can see it for yourself by looking at their stat windows. Oh, also, kills done by autonomous Embryos such as Guardians are automatically counted as the Master’s kills.”
“Then what happens when a Charmed creature kills something?” Rook asked again.
“Umm... Those count as the Charmed creature’s kills. The kill count of the one who did the Charming stays the same. Also, in scenarios where someone Poisons the opponent, escapes the battle, and merely waits for the Poisoned enemy to die, it still counts as the poisoner’s kill.” Apparently, it was dependent on who landed the finishing blow. Tamed monsters within the minion capacity were considered to be like the limbs of the owner, so their kills went to him. While in a party, however, their kills went to their own kill counters.
With status effects such as Poison, the kill went to the one who was directly responsible for the poisoning. Indirect kills, such as the ones done by Charmed opponents, went to those who had done the killing, rather than the Charmer.
“So, if I want to, like Ray, fulfill a condition that has me defeat a certain number of something, I have to avoid using Charm or party slots and instead fight with my own strength or with those that fit in my capacity, right?”
I see why he was curious, I thought. I recalled that Guardians used 0 minion capacity, so he would have been able to use Babi to increase his kill counts even if she hadn’t been his Embryo.
“This is so strange,” muttered Marie after a while of serious pondering.
“What’s strange?” I asked.
“This is the first time I’ve seen a Master with Purifying Silverlight.”
“...What?”
“The skill’s existence itself is quite well-known due to tians, especially the famous users such as the previous knight commander or the current vice-commander. However, there hasn’t been a single case of a Master getting it. Which is really strange. It’s right next to Grand Cross as one of Paladin’s greatest skills, and there have been tons of people who’ve tried to get it, due to its great effects.”
“Huh? But you only have to kill 100 undead,” I said. That’s what the message said, anyway, I thought. It definitely wasn’t a hard condition for your average Paladin to achieve.
“That’s true,” nodded Marie. “Tians were asked about it and said that it was unlocked by the undead kill count. However, there are Paladins who have killed over 5,000 undead, yet still don’t have it. They even finished leveling all their low-rank jobs before they got the skill and... huh?”
Realizing something, Marie put her hand on her chin and slightly tilted her head.
“Ray, what’s your Paladin level?” she asked.
“41,” I answered. I’d leveled up during the testing I’d done in the morning.
“And your total level?”
“41, as well.” I didn’t have any other jobs.
“That’s probably the answer. This is only an assumption, but I think the condition only counts undead of the same level range as yourself. Total level range, to be precise.”
“Level range, huh?” I murmured.
Now that I think about it, there was also a message saying something about the requirement being “Undead of the appropriate total level,” I thought.
“It likely goes by 50, based on low-rank and high-rank,” Marie continued. “Meaning that, if your total level 50 or less, the condition’s target is low-rank monsters — those under and including level 50. And if you’re in the 51-100 total level range, that changes to high-rank monsters — those who are also in the 51-100 range.”
“I see,” I nodded, fully understanding why I’d been able to learn the skill. After all, my total level was below 50. However, that condition didn’t seem like it was unachievable by other people.
I mean, they simply have to max out Knight, switch to Paladin, and fight against undead over level 51 and, uh...
“...Huh?” Something didn�
��t seem right about that thought of mine. The person’s total level would be 51, but it was questionable whether they could put up a fight against high-rank undead while their Paladin level was so low. The High-End Skeleton Warriors that had popped out of the hallway while I was fighting the Lich had probably been among such high-rank undead, but I felt that I would’ve had no chance against them if I hadn’t had Silverlight and Silver. I’d completely crushed them exactly because I did.
“This is pretty awful,” said Marie. “To get Purifying Silverlight, you basically have to throw away everything else.”
“It’s that bad?” I asked.
“Normally, high-rank jobs have you max out one, sometimes even two or three low-rank jobs. Paladin is a prime example of a difficult-to-acquire high-rank job.”
“You might be right,” I nodded. Not only did it require you to have the gold for it, you also needed to do a certain amount of damage to a Demi-Dragon class boss monster. I’d been told that a Demi-Dragon’s power was equivalent to a full party of people with low-rank jobs.
There was also the recommendation you had to get from a member of a knight order. Anyone trying to clear these job conditions in a normal manner would probably max out more than one low-rank job in the process.
“And by the time the person is a Paladin, fulfilling the conditions for Purifying Silverlight would be difficult... no... impossible, actually,” said Marie.
“Is there something about monsters with a level above 100?” I asked.
“100 is actually the maximum level for all normal monsters — including bosses,” she said. “The only ones that go beyond that are SUBMs, Superior Unique Boss Monsters, such as the Tri-Zenith Dragon, Gloria... but that’s irrelevant to the subject at hand. The fact is that the level problem makes acquiring the skill completely impossible.”
“Wait, wouldn’t it be impossible to the tians, too, then?” I asked.
“The tians that become Paladins are most often the sons and daughters of influential people. They have no money problems to speak of, are well-trusted, and get tons of support when going out to defeat the boss.”