Krusty, Tycoon Lord

by Mamare Touno

  Leonardo had just been thinking about idle summer afternoons on Independence Day, and the shock was twice as great for him as it would have been for a normal person, but he admitted he’d brought it on himself and gave up. It was fine to shoot off a series of large-scale annihilation attacks in lieu of fireworks, right? You could probably say they were filling in for celebratory cannon salutes and laugh it off. Fighting an enormous magical beast instead of having a parade was pretty much like a NY Mets game. Leonardo was a fan of the team, and when he could get a ticket, he’d often spent Independence Day at the ballpark.

  When you were traveling with Kanami, he thought noise on this level was one of those things that could happen. It was a nasty thing to think, but, well, it could probably happen.

  However, even so, this was supposed to be a raid-class monster? What was up with that? Kanami and a wolf monster were fighting it alone.

  Apparently, she was getting her hooks into animal familiars now, too. On top of that, Kanami and Elias were lashing out at each other with swords and fists, and he didn’t know what it meant. He felt like he was in a dream.

  “What the hell are you doing?!”

  “Ah! Croakanardo! Perfect timing, are you okay?”

  “We’re fine. I dunno what ‘perfect timing’ is supposed to mean. Explain all this. Go ahead and pass out documents if you want.”

  “I’m busy right now.”

  “Yeah, I can see that, but Elias is—”

  They weren’t allowed to have a leisurely question-and-answer session. Elias, whose eyes were cloudy, had charged, holding his great sword like a spear. Kanami and Leonardo split up to avoid him, dodging left and right. Elias ran between them, crashing into the wall of the limestone cave, sending up a cloud of mist and scattering rubble around.

  Of course, this didn’t render him unable to fight. He appeared from the standing mist of scattered water droplets, stoop-shouldered and dragging his crystal sword so that it scraped along the stone.

  “What’s going on?!”

  “I don’t know, either. It was probably some kind of wacky evil beam—”

  Are you a kid?!

  But he didn’t manage to make the retort.

  Elias had leapt in as suddenly as if he were spring-loaded and had slammed countless daggerlike lumps of ice into Leonardo.

  The Ancient probably thought he wouldn’t be able to completely capture his opponent, an Assassin who fought with twin katanas, by swinging around his enormous two-handed sword. He’d chosen the right attack. Leonardo wasn’t about to let himself get taken out for free, though. He shoved his two fire-attribute katanas, the fantasy-class Ninja Twin Flames, into the ice storm, attempting to cancel it out with the force of the flames and hot air.

  “Your pulse and coloring are abnormal, Lord Elias. Do you wish to be heal—?”

  However, even in that moment, Coppélia was Coppélia.

  Tilting her head in an attentive gesture, she approached Elias fearlessly. The elf probably had some sort of status abnormality, and she was attempting to heal it.

  Stepping out of the field Leonardo’s weapons created, Coppélia took a direct hit from the shockwave the two combatants’ clash had generated. Hastily, Leonardo swung his weapons sideways, but they didn’t reach far enough to protect the slight girl.

  That said, although Coppélia appeared to be wearing a maid outfit, she was equipped with plate armor, and her defensive abilities were far beyond Leonardo’s, who’d sunk most of his points into agility. The fragments of ice and stone missiles just bounced off her with light metallic clangs.

  The hand she’d extended was knocked away.

  With a ferocious growl and eyes that seemed to be pained by something, Elias had refused it.

  Coppélia persisted, reaching out to save him again, and Leonardo pulled her into his arms and leapt sideways.

  An enormous guillotine of ice bore down behind them. It was an unreserved certain-kill attack that ignored things like efficiency and hit rate. With a savage scream, Elias unleashed the sort of huge attack he normally wouldn’t even have selected.

  Holding the petite girl in his arms, Leonardo looked into her eyes.

  He saw Elias there, being torn apart by pain.

  As the elf brandished his weapon, his warped eyes blazing red, he certainly looked ferocious, but he reminded Leonardo of a colleague who’d grown desperate and reckless and had left his job. The Elias he’d glimpsed during that collapse really hadn’t been an illusion.

  “This—curse—I’ll—”

  There probably hadn’t been any clear intent behind the words he’d spoken.

  They’d been a murmur, half-lost in a growl.

  However, Leonardo had heard them, and somehow they made sense to him.

  This just ain’t gonna work, he thought flatly.

  He sensed this, not as a native New York–dwelling geek with a bundle of flow charts and spec sheets under his arm, but as a man who’d spent his youth during the Vital Fall.

  Coppélia and Kanami wouldn’t be able to get Elias to retake himself by fighting him.

  It was up to him.

  Leonardo made up his mind so easily that even he thought it was strange.

  “Fall back. If you can, get away!”

  Shoving the girl in his arms toward Kanami, Leonardo used the kickback from the move and cartwheeled. Once, twice. Adding a twist in midair, he spun like a drill, kicked the ashy indigo beast away, and landed in front of Elias again.

  “Hiyaaaaaaaaaaah!”

  It wasn’t a skill.

  He just spread his arms, tackled Elias with brute force, and dived like an NFL player scoring a touchdown.

  They slid across the limestone together—something that probably would have left them thoroughly bloodied all by itself if they’d been in their real bodies on Earth—exchanged two or three well-angled punches, twisted around, and stood up.

  “There are some things you just can’t complain about to women, huh?” Leonardo said.

  Yeah, that’s right. Internally, he was nodding vigorously in agreement.

  This was what he could do for Elias.

  “I dunno what you’re feeling, but I know there are times like that. Plus, I’ve also—”

  Which of them had closed in? The distance shrank as if they’d pulled each other in by threads, and the great crystal sword and the twin katanas that spouted flames locked with each other.

  “Hup!”

  Concluding that he wouldn’t be able to hold out, Leonardo kicked Elias’s side, then deflected his strength diagonally. Catching him on their crossed blades was the position that had the best defense, but even then, Crystal Stream was two meters long, and he wasn’t strong enough to stop it completely.

  As a Weapon Attack class, Leonardo’s physical strength was superhuman, but he’d chosen to grow it with a bias toward speed and explosive power. In contrast, Elias was an all-around warrior who’d methodically trained both his muscles and his endurance. On top of that, there was a ten-level difference between them.

  In Elder Tales, level differences mattered quite a lot.

  They weren’t the sort of thing you could never reverse, no matter the situation, but they had a big influence on all conflicts. They affected not only attack hit rates and evasion rates, but the possibility of resisting poison and paralysis, and they even affected the actual damage inflicted, too.

  A raid capture unit equipped with phantasmal items fought monsters that were between three and seven levels higher than they were, but those were attempts made on a foundation of careful planning and applied strategy. A ten-level difference in a player-versus-player conflict was such a big deal that, generally speaking, it wouldn’t even be a fight.

  However, Leonardo ignored that inconvenience and attacked boldly, over and over.

  There was a series of dull sounds, like steel scraping together or slamming into itself.

  Ninja Twin Flames’ process-activated ability wasn’t able to inflict effective flame damage.
Similarly, Elias’s weapon was clad in a stream of water and blocked it.

  “You’re tough.”

  As Leonardo spoke, his shoulders were heaving.

  The speed of exhaustion in solo combat was in a whole different league from team combat. Particularly with attack classes with poor fuel efficiency like Sorcerer and Assassin, if they paid out large damage attacks in earnest, their MP would hit bottom in the space of a few minutes.

  Leonardo had attacked without considering the consequences, and he didn’t even have half of his left.

  He’d had to go that far to actually fight the Ancient. Feeling happy about the fact that the difference in combat power was so great, Leonardo kept on glaring at his opponent.

  “You really are best when you’re tough, Elias.”

  It wasn’t clear whether those words had gotten through.

  However, Elias muttered, “What would you know?” in a voice so hoarse it was hard to make out. His eyes were red and clouded. Then his crystal sword flashed in the last of the sunlight, preparing to strike off Leonardo’s head.

  6

  Well, no, I don’t know.

  While he was deep in thought, Leonardo was unleashing a storm of fierce sword slashes.

  He wasn’t saying he couldn’t imagine it. However, it was a fact that Elias’s pain belonged to Elias alone.

  Leonardo had traveled with him, and he thought he knew the guy’s cheerfulness, the way he was honest to the point of stupidity, and the sorrow he’d hidden. He’d also known that he grieved the loss of his comrades and was tormented by the guilt thinking that the loss had been caused by his own lack of strength.

  Leonardo only knew about these things, though. He couldn’t say he understood them.

  He couldn’t say so, and he probably shouldn’t anyway.

  Traveling companions were only slightly closer than strangers, after all.

  A burning pain ran through his side.

  The disaster was practically a car accident, and his green suit ripped. This defensive gear had focused on stealth performance to begin with, and it had almost no resistance to cold air.

  There was a noise like a bell ringing, very faintly.

  A sharp blade was thrust out in exchange, and Elias evaded by simply tilting his head. Apparently, it was all he could do just to graze the collar of his white surcoat.

  It was the difference in their combat power made visible.

  He’d used quite a large percentage of his HP as bait, and yet, grazing the nape of Elias’s neck was all he’d had been able to manage.

  True, Elias had taken quite a lot of damage by now as well, but that was because he’d been worn down before starting this battle with Leonardo.

  Still, that difference in combat power felt good.

  If Elias had been weak, he probably would have felt a lot sadder.

  “That’s what makes you Elias Hackblade after all!”

  As if the words Leonardo had said had been an actual electric attack spell, Elias’s clouded eyes widened slightly. As if what the Adventurer had pointed out had touched an old wound that wouldn’t heal, Elias gave a wounded scream and swung his sword.

  He really couldn’t afford to take that attack.

  The mere aftereffects of the impact that was headed this way would be able to pierce clean through armor. A direct hit from that blade might even cost him all his limbs. Pulling back at the last second, Leonardo swung his twin katanas as well. If he couldn’t win through attack size, then he’d attack faster.

  “I mean, you’re their friend, right?!”

  Even though he thought the words would never get through, Leonardo yelled.

  Of course he did. This was a world Elias didn’t know.

  And this was something only somebody like Leonardo could tell him:

  Elias Hackblade was a shining hero.

  Captain America and the invincible Thor, Tony (who was bursting with the engineer spirit), the high-minded Hal Jordan, and Doctor Strange. The world’s ultimate heroes, who shone like a veritable galaxy.

  A hero who never lost hope even when he came up against difficulties or despair, who nobly and selflessly protected others—one of those individuals with absolutely indomitable wills who gathered in the hall of fame.

  He was one of the people Leonardo idolized.

  “I knew about you…even before I met you at the Tekeli Ruins. I’ve known for ages. Elias Hackblade! The world’s one and only Blademancer. An elf hero who belongs to the Knights of the Red Branch, one of the Thirteen Global Chivalric Orders. A blueblood raised by the fairy tribe. The knight who accepted the two-handed sword Crystal Stream, along with the feelings of three Anemoi.”

  Elder Tales wasn’t something enjoyed exclusively inside the game itself.

  It really wouldn’t have been possible for a single player to discover the countless quests that were scattered across the wide world, and so players shared information. Game information was communicated in all sorts of ways, through strategy sites and bulletin boards, or by word of mouth, and through messengers.

  In particular, as was common with MMORPGs, newly introduced events and quests were discussed by lots of users. Since the sort of events Elias appeared in tended to be tied to the main stories of expansion packs, this was especially true of them.

  Elias Hackblade was a typical handsome-hero character, as if he’d been packed with the dreams of the game developers. Long, streaming blond hair and sapphire eyes. A white coat and a huge magic sword. He’d appeared in over a hundred quests.

  He was one of the most famous characters in the Elder Tales game.

  Leonardo didn’t know whether it was like that on the other servers, but at least on the North American and European servers, Elias was practically the icon for Elder Tales.

  He’d met a hero like that in the Tekeli Ruins and had traveled with him.

  It had been an encounter the likes of which might never happen again, and a journey straight out of a fantasy.

  “Even among the Adventurers, you were famous, Elias Hackblade. The guardian of the People of the Earth. The hero who dashed around, crossing borders; the pride of the Thirteen Global Chivalric Orders. A whole lot of Adventurers have fought beside you. We swapped rumors about you, too.”

  “Silence!”

  Along with that howl, a storm of ice assailed him.

  Elias’s mana was out of control, and winglike shields of ice had grown from his back.

  Pushed to action by his rising emotions and sense of duty, Leonardo took another half step toward death.

  The ice barrier spell missiles that showered down on him were closer to the size of spears than daggers, and they hit home. Leonardo’s HP was falling sporadically, but as rapidly as a glass of spilled wine.

  “No, I’m not gonna shut up. In the Fortress of Darkness, you defended the elves as leader of the Lightbringers, and in the Dragon’s Lair, you confronted the evil dragon Zahat alongside the Adventurers. You used the matchless sword technique Fairy Arts, and sometimes you opposed the Adventurers, but it was always to protect the People of the Earth. You were the guardian of this world, absolutely.”

  The word guardian seemed to have poleaxed Elias.

  He gazed at Leonardo with eyes that looked as if they’d been frozen by eternal grief, and he seemed to be shedding wordless tears.

  Leonardo was building a bridge.

  He was going to deliver the goodwill of the hundreds and thousands of geeks who’d supported Elias to the last man. As a Delivery Person subclass, that was his mission. He had to teach this dumb, wounded, discouraged hero what he was really worth.

  “We knew. That time when you got tricked by the red-nosed Princess Rubience and locked up: In the quest, it said you’d been flattered into drinking a sleeping drug, but the truth is that you felt sorry for that pathetic princess, and so you drank the drug so she’d have someone to talk to, right? During the hunt for the golden boar, weren’t you the one who forgot Tonelico’s Spear at the inn? I know. I… We…”


  Naturally, there had been people who hated him, too.

  Games were things for players to enjoy. The mere fact that he was stronger than the players, was something like a main character and could adventure, was enough to earn him hate from haters. The fact that Elias’s Blademancer class was an exclusive one that couldn’t be selected by the players soured his reputation as well.

  However, he’d been liked more than that. When he’d first appeared, he’d been depicted as arrogant, but as time passed, his personality had acquired warmth and a sense of humanity. His curse meant he always had to rely on the Adventurers for the most important things, which was both appreciated and considered comical. They’d called him—affectionately (and a little mockingly)—“Mr. Elias” online.

  Naturally, when people talked about him, they teased, sympathized with, and laughed at him. He was a slightly unfortunate hero who desperately argued for peace on their screens but sometimes spoke of tragedies, saying, “My curse sows unhappiness…”

  But he had been loved.

  He was the character who represented Elder Tales, their beloved game. How could he not have been loved?

  Particularly by Leonardo, who aspired to be a hero in this world.

  What sort of person is he, or she, to you?

  He remembered Coppélia’s quiet, thoughtful question.

  What sort of person was Elias to Leonardo?

  He’d had the answer to that one for ages.

  “I spent Sacred Heart and the Tower of the Oracle with you. At this point, I dunno how it is, but during that invasion maneuver, I was there with you. I went up that long twilight staircase with you. We sent up that victory cheer together, too. I bet you don’t remember. If you think about it that way, the Catastrophe really was genuinely shitty, huh? You were a hero to us, to the Adventurers, too.”

  As a pretty decent engineer who stood in front of clients wearing a necktie, he’d just been too embarrassed to say it, but—