by Sakon Kaidou
“Rook...”
He clearly knew the questions that concerned me right now: “Should I really go on and leave Rook and the girls here?” and “Can I ignore Hugo while he’s in such an unsteady state?”
“It’s quite obvious that this is the friend who fought at your side yesterday,” he continued. He looked directly at me. “I understand that you’re wondering why he’s taking part in this, and I can tell that you want to talk to him. And it’s exactly because I can see all that that I’m saying that you should go on ahead. If you don’t make it in time, you would surely regret it forever. That’s why I’m suggesting that you go after Franklin.”
“...Thanks, Rook... I leave him to you,” I said.
“You can count on me!” he replied as I grabbed hold of Silver’s reins and turned to the gate.
While facing the frozen hell before me, I was a bit concerned that I’d get frozen like the rest, but upon entering it, I realized that my worries were needless, for it didn’t even make me feel the least bit cold.
And so, I rode Silver towards the gate, but then...
...Hugo’s robot moved to block my path.
“Hugo,” I said.
“...Ray,” he spoke through the speakers with a voice bearing no certainty, as though he was wringing it out after having hesitated a lot.
Following a short silence, during which he was likely thinking about whether he should say it or not, Hugo continued his words.
“I’m sorry to fall back on my word... but could you fight me? Just one exchange of all-out attacks will do.”
I didn’t know what was going on in his mind, and I couldn’t tell why he’d decided to say that, but it didn’t take long for me to give my answer.
“All right.” I nodded as I brandished Nemesis in her black greatsword form. “I have many questions to ask and lots of things to say to you, but for now, I’ll leave it at just one attack each.”
“...Merci,” he said as I and his robot stood to face each other.
There was about 15 meters between us. With me being saddled on Silver and Hugo riding his Magingear, that distance might as well have not been there.
I instantly began charging towards him, trying to get past his Magingear’s right side.
“Motor Slash!” shouted the voice from the speakers as the robot swung its right cross-blade towards me with all the speed it could muster.
Magingear were said to be Demi-Dragon-tier, and that was an attack bearing the mecha’s whole weight and power. It menaced me more than the Demi-Dragon Worm’s charge, and I could tell that it would easily split me in half if it landed.
“Counter Absorption!” Nemesis exclaimed, preventing that from happening with her barrier of light.
“Vengeance is Mine!” I added, following it up with a counterattack from my blade. That shattered the Magingear’s frozen armor and bent its inner frame.
And with that single exchange of blows, the battle was over and we had switched positions.
With my back turned to him, I charged towards the outside of the gate, entrusting my friend... to another friend.
◆◆◆
Triangle of Wisdom member, High Pilot, Hugo Lesseps
After our momentary battle, I watched as Ray headed out through the gate.
The battle had ended with Ray remaining unharmed and my Marshall II R’s right arm being significantly damaged. If that was all that had to be considered, it would’ve been my loss. However, I’d just taken something important from him...
“So he used it...” I muttered.
Counter Absorption.
It was a defensive skill unique to Nemesis. Though immensely powerful, Ray had told me that it had a stock of uses. If it had run out during his battle against Gouz-Maise, the amount he’d restocked by now was one. And I’d made him use it on me.
To Ray, who was about to fight “him,” it was a shackle he couldn’t ignore. I’d asked Ray to go all-out because I’d believed he would do exactly that.
What I’d done just now was nothing but betrayal of a friend who — if only for a day — had fought at my side. I’d sent him to certain death and even cut his sole lifeline.
Though it was a bitter choice for me to make, I had done it regardless.
After all, I didn’t want to simply let “his” enemy through.
I hadn’t been able to stay out of it with Ray heading there with a do-or-die spirit and endless resolve. It was something I’d done because I’d tried to shoulder everything — my emotions, my sins, and my role as an accomplice.
Oh... seriously... why am I so...?
“For you, that was... Nh?!” Cyco spoke up, but before she could finish, a sudden impact cut her words short.
It was caused by a charge attack from the Tri-Horn Demi-Dragon and additional attacks from the Master riding it — Ray’s friend.
“Do excuse me,” he said. “You happened to be full of openings.”
As I tried to fix my frame’s posture, the Master, his Tri-Horn, and the succubus — presumably his Embryo — continued the barrage. There was no hesitation or mercy in his attacks, making it evident that he would’ve ended it with this sole surprise attack if I’d allowed it.
“You’re so unfaaair,” said Cyco.
“Now that is uncalled for,” he replied. “I already said that I’d be the one fighting you. It’s not my fault that you got lost in thought.”
“Heh heh,” I chuckled. “For someone who appears to be Ray’s friend, you’re certainly different from him.”
While Ray was somewhat irrational, tactless, and single-faced, this guy here was logical and calculating to the core.
The expression he was giving me was nothing like the one he’d given Ray. It was cold, and the lack of even a hint of a smile, combined with his well-structured face, made it somewhat frightening.
I felt like he was fine-tuning the impression he gave to other people, much like I did when playing the role of a knight. However, his mask seemed to be far thicker than mine.
“Perhaps,” he said. “That might be why I respect Ray so much. Ah, that aside...”
Still sitting on the back of the Demi-Dragon, the Master, Rook, looked at me with some of the coldest eyes I’d ever seen... much like the ones my sister had had on that fateful day.
“...I think I hate you,” he continued, his words puzzling me to no end.
Sound Collection then picked up the succubus — likely his Embryo — muttering, “That’s the first time Rook’s ever said that to someone.”
“...Heh,” I chuckled. “Hated on the first encounter. Now that’s something.”
“Perhaps it is,” he replied. “But you’re simply loathsome. You’re so indecisive and uppity that you remind me of a certain someone.”
“Incomprehensible nonsense...”
“Is it really?” His gaze had enough power to make me know that he was absolutely sure about something. It felt as though he was aware that I’d averted my eyes to many things and couldn’t be definite about anything.
“...I have no idea what you mean,” I said. “Regardless, I’ll have you freeze where you stand.”
I fixed my mech’s posture, bashed the Tri-Horn away with my armor, and made some distance between us.
“I cannot allow any Masters besides ‘him’ and Ray to pass here,” I continued. “As a member of the Triangle of Wisdom and as a thorn protecting him... I shall give my all to this battle.”
“Very well,” he replied. “Then I will use everything I have to defeat you and pass through. I’ll do this as Ray’s friend... and as myself.”
Standing on the Demi-Dragon with the succubus at his side, he faced me.
After a momentary silence and an exchange of glares, I finally spoke up. “High Pilot: Hugo Lesseps, and Embryo: Cocytus.”
This was a ritual. I would defeat Ray’s friend and prevent him from attaining his goal. This was a ritual for that purpose... and a “duel.”
“Pimp: Rook Holmes, Embryo: Babylon, and minions: M
arilyn and Audrey.” He responded in the same way.
“May the fight...” I said before taking a breath.
“...begin!” we both declared.
The duel had begun.
Chapter Six: The Duel in the Frozen Hell
Past, Lucius Holmes
I was born in the United Kingdom. London, to be precise. I was born into a household that was neither wealthy nor noble nor poor. It wasn’t all that special in terms of social status. But it certainly wasn’t normal, either.
My father was a detective running an agency focused on solving unresolved cases, while my mother was a thief who specialized in stealing works of art.
Indeed — I was the son of a thief and a detective. Though it sounded like the premise to a joke, it was nothing but the truth.
My father was much like a protagonist of a mystery novel, solving many cases no one else could, while my mother was a movie-like secretive robber who traveled the world and stole things of great value. Both of their families had been doing those things for several generations.
I’d even been told that my father’s side had taken the surname “Holmes” because his great-grandfather had changed it when starting his detective work, basing it on the most famous detective in the world. It didn’t seem to have mattered to him that it was a work of fiction.
How my parents had met, gotten married, and made a son was a mystery for the ages.
I’d once asked my father why he wasn’t arresting my mother. He had replied, “A detective’s job is to uncover the truth, not to catch criminals.” I’d found that questionable, to say the least.
The curiosities didn’t end there, either, for my mother was a thief who always returned the works she’d stolen after a couple of weeks of enjoying them. In fact, most of the time, she stole objects that the owners had acquired by illegal means, and handed them over to the police.
Apparently, her goal wasn’t money, but the very process of thievery. “A thief’s job is to steal, not to sell,” she once told me.
To be honest, I wasn’t quite sure if “thief” counted as a “job.”
Anyway, both of them loved their trades and always gave their all to them, leaving little time for us to spend as a family. Still, exactly because they were so focused on using their talents to do what they so loved, they had been quick to notice a certain thing about me when I was young.
Lucius is extremely gifted.
Insight, observational ability, imagination, dexterity, reflexes, appearance... I’d inherited the talents from both my parents and had even more potential on those fronts than either of them, giving me the makings of both a detective and a master thief. Naturally, my parents had been extremely pleased with that.
With both of them being so passionate about their family business, the two of them thought the same thing:
This talent must not be wasted. I want to nurture him into a great detective/thief, but I can’t ignore my beloved’s wishes, either.
Thus, they came to a certain agreement.
They would take turns giving me their special education.
My father would train my observational abilities, teach me lip-reading, world languages, and the workings of the human mind, while my mother would instruct me in trap disarmament, finding people’s blind spots, and the means of charming and manipulating people.
When I was young, it was set in stone that they would be training my mind and body based on this plan. But neither of them ever ordered me to become a detective or a master thief. Instead, they continually emphasized that they would nurture my talents, and leave me to decide what life I would lead.
A part of me thought that acquiring such a specific set of skills would limit my choices to either detective or thief, but I wasn’t unsatisfied with that.
As I got older and began to reflect upon my life so far, I started to realize that limitations like that were only natural when a person had trained in such things for as long as they could remember, because experiences like that were what became the basis of self.
My education had included common sense and sociology, through which I’d discovered that my standards and values were wildly different from those society considered “universal.”
Knowing that my situation wasn’t the least bit normal, I finally concluded that “It’s normal in my family, and when talking to those with different standards, I should simply adjust accordingly,” which I felt was a thought that truly highlighted the fact that I was my parents’ son.
Anyway, after ten years of their special education, by the time I was fifteen years of age, I had acquired almost all of the skills my parents had. I hadn’t neglected self-study, either, so I was confident that my total abilities had already exceeded theirs.
Then, when I was just a few years away from becoming an adult and starting to think about what kind of future I’d choose, something happened.
My parents died in a plane accident.
While they were out on a trip together — which was rare for them — their plane crashed. I was contacted about it shortly afterward.
Though I grieved their deaths, a part of me wondered if that would’ve truly been enough to kill them. It wasn’t a denial of reality — I just reasonably assumed that their skills and experience would have allowed them to survive a normal plane crash.
The day afterward, the news showed that several children wearing parachutes and life jackets had been found in the middle of the sea. They had all come from the same plane that had killed my parents. When the media asked them about their experience, the children said, “A tall man and a pretty lady put parachutes on us.”
With that, everything made sense. Apparently, rather than focusing on their own survival, my parents had chosen to bet on the possibility of saving the children.
As a fresh orphan, I wished they had considered me and prioritized their own survival, but at the same time, a great sense of pride filled my chest. I felt nothing but respect for what they’d done. Though, for reasons unknown, tears were running down my face.
Following their death, I got everything in order and took a break from life’s stresses.
My parents had already taught me how to go through such formalities, so I was able to inherit their land, house, and money without much trouble. With all I had, I could easily live out the rest of my life with no inconveniences to speak of.
However, I couldn’t just do nothing, so I... I...
“...Ah.”
That was when I realized that I didn’t have a vision of my own future.
Silly as it was, despite the fact that I was a genius who’d learned everything my parents could teach me, I didn’t notice that until that very moment.
With all the love they’d given me, I’d been comfortable in a life comprised of nothing but honing the skills my parents had bestowed upon me, and thus I’d ended up a person who hadn’t made a single decision in his entire life. I’d followed the road my parents had prepared for me and lived doing very little besides clearing the challenges they’d presented me with, and so I had next to no experience in choosing how I wished to live. That was something that I’d left for “someday,” rather than “today.”
I could vaguely picture the future me making such a choice, but the present me simply didn’t have the guidelines for it. Surrounded by my parents’ love, I’d led a passive life where I couldn’t even shape an image of the person I wished to be.
“Just how should I live?” I asked myself, feeling as though I’d been thrown into an empty wasteland.
It was as if I had water, food, a compass, the knowledge and the ability to survive, but I didn’t have the slightest clue as to my destination. Regardless of whether I went north, east, south, or west, I had no idea what awaited me, and even if I found something, I wouldn’t know what to do with it. I was completely lost, but no amount of thinking brought me closer to a choice.
Well, this is bad, I thought. If I didn’t mend that, I might end up a person who did nothing but live.
&nb
sp; Wholly puzzled, I began considering what I should do.
First, I decided check whether or not my parents had left me a message or something in their rooms. A little voice in my head scolded me for searching for my own destination by going through my late parents’ things, but I chose to ignore it.
I started by searching my mother’s room.
It held a trap that, once activated, would burn down the whole room and any potential evidence it could’ve had. I was able to disarm it, but I couldn’t help giving a passing thought to the fact that things could’ve ended badly if this house had been given to someone else.
The only notable thing in my mother’s room was her work equipment. There were no stolen works of art. With it being a room that could burn down, I hadn’t really been expecting any, and a glance at her diary made it obvious that she hadn’t had anything she hadn’t yet returned. I was thankful for that, since I would’ve had to be the one to bring back whatever she’d stolen. Still, a part of me would’ve liked to have a new goal, however meager.
Aside from her work equipment, the only thing of note was an incomplete hand-knit sweater.
I moved on to my father’s room.
Unlike with mother’s room, there were no traps to speak of, and I could easily get in with just a key.
Of course, it’s probably not normal to expect traps in situations like this, I thought to myself.
Upon entering, I instantly noticed something. On father’s work desk, there was an unfamiliar object — a headgear-type piece of electronic equipment.
“Isn’t this for Infinite Dendrogram?” I muttered.
The game was part of general knowledge at this point, so I was aware of its existence. It was well-known as a dive-type VRMMO that had gained popularity all across the world. I’d always been busy with my training and studies, so I hadn’t had time for games, nor was I particularly interested in them. At most, my father and I had played the occasional match of chess.
“Was Father playing it?” I murmured.
He’d been extremely busy with his detective work and my training, so I found it strange that he’d had any time for it.