Chapter 374 - The White Lingering Dream, Swaying in Slumber - Part 3
—It has been two years since I first visited this virtual world.
And a little over a year since I was saddled with the unfitting title of a ranker.
Starting with the last 'White Throne' battle, which felt like my debut, I've already grown accustomed to finding myself on the battlefield of these out-of-place, large-scale wars.
Much to my chagrin—I originally got into [Arcadia] seeking a carefree solo journey, so this is about as unplanned as it gets.
Is it good fortune or misfortune that the build I designed to thoroughly avoid combat has somehow proven effective on various battlefields…?
Whining and using my age as an excuse would be a pain, and more importantly, lame. So, until a junior truly worthy of being an 'Eastern Ranker' comes along to unseat me, I suppose I'll just play the part of the seat I've been pushed into, doing just enough to get by—
—though I was aware that, from the eyes of others, this might make me seem like a cynical child, or look lame, or come off as sarcastic.
Fortunately, the inhabitants of this world were, to my left and to my right, all mature adults.
Some were clearly many years my senior, while others were around my age. Every last one of them was good-natured, considerate, and skilled at 'getting along with others'.
It was a comfortable world that made the shackles of reality seem ridiculous. A world where one was affirmed, never denied.
I owe a debt of gratitude as a latecomer to the management who built this utopia, [Arcadia], through a strict entry screening process, and to the 'Princess' who made its special nature recognized.
If the atmosphere here were different, I would have undoubtedly left this virtual world the moment I was saddled with something as troublesome as being a ranker.
If that had happened—I wouldn't be here now, an uncharacteristic smile on my face as I witness this absurd scene before me.
It was a sight of grand warfare I had become reluctantly accustomed to. However, even I had no memory of a festival this insane and frenzied.
Warriors beyond number challenging a 'dragon' so immense I had to crane my neck to see it.
Above them, where countless weapons flashed and explosions erupted, a swarm of freely flying sand swords filled the sky as if to form a canopy.
And weaving through the barrage of bullets and blades fired from the 'White's' turrets, a trail of pure white light—a contrail—streaked across the heavens at a speed the eye couldn't follow.
I wasn't the only one looking up, waiting for my turn.
"Oh man, that guy's seriously just flying through the sky!"
"That looks so fun, it's not fair! I wanna do that too!"
"His partner-chan is insane! Was there a rank update I missed!?"
"German! He was shouting something that sounded like German!"
"So that means if I can fly, I can get a cute partner too!"
"That doesn't mean anything!—Here it comes, tank squad, brace yourselves!"
"""YEAAAH, LET'S GOOO!!!"""
While shouting all sorts of nonsensical things, the frontline warriors, who hadn't missed the telltale signs, intercepted the 'White Throne's' swinging tail, their various skill effects trailing behind them.
Though they couldn't match the two who embodied the extraordinary, the seven-person response successfully stopped the immense mass—even if they couldn't make it stagger, their efforts were more than enough.
Instantly, a rain of magic from the artillery squad poured down on the momentarily halted 'White Throne's' head and torso—and bursting through the aftershock and remnants of the blasts, the extraordinary ones charged in.
[Peerless]'s blade, leading the charge, slashed its throat.
The fists of [Twin Fists] and the greatsword of [Adamant], who had advanced side-by-side, simultaneously found their mark on its snout.
The [Sword Queen]'s silver-blue and the [General Commander]'s gold once again sent the 'White' reeling.
And then…
"Copy them!"
"As you command…!"
An immediate follow-up. As Goldow slammed his clasped fists onto its crown, several golden figures appeared above his head.
There were five of them—translucent, faceless copy-dolls behind their masks.
"[Quintet]!"
The follow-up attack from the dolls summoned by [Automata] landed. Though inferior to the original, a five-fold simultaneous attack could potentially surpass the total damage.
And so, the 'White Throne', having been assaulted by a swarm of 'monsters' who were like specks of dust in comparison, was—was it working, or not?
Its body shook with a ground-trembling shudder, and it let out a whale-like cry.
"—[First Bullet, Awakening Blink]."
No signal or warning was necessary or needed. Following the flow of a coordinated attack that had been instantly constructed without any prior arrangement, all the players distanced themselves from the 'White Throne' in an instant.
An immense heat ray, far surpassing the mages' combined barrage, erupted as if to push back the space-shaking roar.
From behind my position in the middle of the battlefield, the first shot was fired without hesitation—the start-up of the Anima [Nova Rescellerate, Mirror Illuminating Six Stars] was a clean hit.
When I looked back, a wink flew my way from across our meeting gazes.
My senior, [Heat Gaze]—with whom I am often paired as a buddy due to our excellent compatibility—the former fourth-ranked member who was hailed as the greatest long-range damage dealer until the rise of the 'Eastern Wings'.
And, though it's a secret from her, she also holds an unshakable position as someone who seems like a bad idea to anger—well then, I suppose it's about time I got to work, too.
It wouldn't do to be suspected of slacking off.
Ninth Rank, [Undying]—one who wins without fighting, or rather, doesn't fight at all, therefore does not die.
Though it was a style utterly unbecoming of Istia, I had never once doubted the build I had constructed solely for my carefree solo journey.
It was a nuisance that the system had given me its 'stamp of approval' as a result—but if it meant I now had the opportunity to join this festival as a 'cornerstone'…
"I don't like to stand out… but having fun isn't so bad, you know."
Yes, not bad—while I'd have to hesitate to call him a 'mature adult,' having a junior (senior) who was having more fun than anyone else.
And the unexpected turn of events where I, who had prized my solitude and acted the part of a loner, had on a whim announced myself as a member of a clan.
Well, I guess it's all going to be pretty fun—the fact that I can genuinely look forward to the games to come like this.
It's not bad. So, I don't find this troublesome or begrudging in the slightest.
Without warning, but at a predicted timing, a single sand sword descended from the sky and stabbed into the ground before me.
A signal from my other junior, who is so dutiful, honest, and so pure it makes me worry.
She probably tried her best to live up to the lighthearted joke I made before the battle. The way it stabbed into the ground with considerable force at a speed that suggested she didn't have much leeway brought a faint smile to my lips.
"Understood, leave it to me—Dazzling Release."
Darkness spilled forth, and shadows spread.
Black feathers danced, and an invisible hand reached out.
When I grasped the hilt of the sword before me, I followed the shadow, and the battlefield came to rest in the palm of my hand.
…When I confirmed it again, I couldn't help but laugh. I had an idea of the materials used, but I never thought such a coincidence could exist.
Even with the difference between a common and a rare species, the fact that three people who had gathered to form a clan were unintentionally wearing gear of the same type was quite a probability.
Haru's [El-Gran Series]… or rather, his [El-Gran Stasia, Azure Sky Six Flowers, White Cloud].
Sora's [Dress of El-Clelia].
And the Terror Armament that has become half of Tetra's being for the past year, born from a variant species of the [White-Shining Bird of Fortune]—[Per-Fe Grim, True Theory: Shadow Cloth Looking Up to Black Wings].
The accidental commonality of our battle garments being made from feathers that govern the same 'luck' felt like an all-too-deliberate twist of fate… making me feel both embarrassed and ticklish.
It was so unlike me. I knew it was unlike me, but—no matter how much I acted like an adult and put on airs, I suppose I was still just a fifteen-year-old kid after all.
"Embrace—[Grimnote, Black Sky Roc Wings]."
The factors contributing to the excitement were just endlessly piling up.
I just couldn't suppress the childish grin that spread across my face.
[Per-Fe Grim, True Theory: Shadow Cloth Looking Up to Black Wings] Terror Armament: Battle Garment
A full-body armor tailored by a certain artisan, based on a Terror material dropped from the flying plague god, [Grimnote, the Black Bird that Devours Misfortune], which is a variant species of the [White-Shining Bird of Fortune].
Our protagonist mentioned that it looked similar to his own attire, and well, of course it does. Not only are they from different colored versions of the same type of creature, but the artisan involved is also (the afterword cuts off here).