kscans

Chapter 813 - And So Came the Blue Chilrrrrrrrrrrr0r10r of the 7SevenⅦLacquer

Just as I had once used a combo starting with [Angalta, God-Wedge Spirit Sword] to deplete Ashe's HP in a single blow, the effect of the orally transmitted Art, [Yuikaze], which I received from the [Sword Saint], works by 'adding the power of the previously used technique.' It doesn't reference the 'power dealt to the enemy,' but rather the 'output that was released.'

In other words, it doesn't necessarily have to be the 'next attack' against 'an enemy' or 'the same enemy.' Furthermore, no matter where, how much, or in what manner the released output is directed, the number plugged into the formula is the combined maximum value.

This meant that the [Yuikaze] I just unleashed was enhanced with the full output of my Echo technique—a move so powerful that even if ninety percent of its force was dispersed, it could still take out an average player in one hit.

So yeah, there's no doubt it was ridiculously powerful, but—

"So it was a hard-shelled weakling, huh…"

Based on the ferocity of its attacks and its absurdly high defensive capabilities, I had estimated it to be a half-raid-class boss. But seeing the 'turtle' fall so anticlimactically left me feeling a bit let down… or rather, relieved.

As I lay there, my body still immobile, muttering to myself, the situation began to change.

The remnants of [Administrator:03] danced in the air. The defeat effect of the boss with the bizarre name swirled and flowed as if it still possessed a will of its own.

It flowed, moved, and then gathered… The deep green phosphorescence shone brightly at the center of the boss room before coalescing into a single object and dissipating into mist.

"Nia!"

"Ah, yes!"

And so, with no time to spare. With our time limit already under ten minutes, we couldn't afford to give every new development a meticulous reaction and analysis.

Thus, the immediate command and response were inevitable. Our conquest was still underway.

"Can you move? Or are you giving up?"

An unknown object had suddenly appeared in a piece of content that required an artisan's participation; it was only natural to have an artisan handle it. My senior, who had arrived at the correct answer in no time flat, kindly came over to ask how I was doing.

"Give me thirty seconds…"

"Mm. Looks like you can still push on."

And just like that, her kindness departed after a brisk five-second conversation.

It's not… it's not like I feel lonely or anything. Not at all…

"So, how is it?"

She left me and headed over to Nia, who was examining the object left behind by the dissipating light—a monolith, to put it simply.

Barely ten seconds had passed since she started looking at and touching it.

It was far too soon to expect any results… a thought I'm sure Natsume-senpai shared. But,

"It's a console," Nia replied without hesitation, her expression serious as she faced the object, defying our expectations.

"…A console?"

As Natsume-senpai voiced the obvious question and I tilted my head from my spot on the ground to listen, the [Milmarinus] nodded, her gaze fixed on the monolith. It was made of some strange material that was neither wood, stone, nor metal, and was covered in densely packed Arcadia script.

"Somehow… I don't know how, but… it told me. What it can do… what it wants to do… I'm sorry, it's a little hard to explain in words."

"…Well, that sort of thing happens all the time in this world. What should we be doing?"

Setting the questions aside for now, she first sought a course of action. With her usual perfect composure, Natsume-senpai posed the question, and Nia, whose Anima eyes had begun to glow, offered a single word.

"Wait."

"Understood. —Honestly, she's so cool."

And so, beside the now-engrossed, blue-hued girl who was likely deaf to the world,

The white cat-like figure shot me an amused glance.

"The gap is so extreme that it gives me a whole different set of problems every day… ugh."

As promised, thirty seconds passed. As I got to my feet, the words I returned, almost without thinking, were the kind that could easily be mistaken for doting.

…Yeah, this is bad.

I might be more exhausted than I thought.

◇◆◇◆◇

"Hah, so it was all bark and no bite. Just a tough name and a tough look."

At the base of one of the towers.

The Great Tiger snorted, having crushed the 'dragon' that lay in wait in the dungeon's depths with unreasonable force, claiming a victory without a hint of danger.

"What's with that confidence! I'd say you're just more of a monster than the monster was!!"

Following his remark was the boisterous voice of his lively companion.

"No need to flatter me. It was weirdly emotionless, a more boring fight than any random trash boss. —So, this is it. I'm countin' on you, old man."

"You got it! Leave it to me!!!"

What had appeared was a mysterious and profound 'console'… in other words, something outside his own combat-focused expertise. With a casual wave, he passed the baton, and Ganju charged toward his work with a hearty laugh.

They had known each other for a long time. The relationship of a client who relied on him for their weapons, including the spear he now wielded, and the artisan who made them. He was used to the booming voice that paid no mind to its surroundings, letting it wash over him like a gentle breeze as he smiled.

Smiling, he briefly considered his options before choosing to guard the artisan who was both his friend, his partner, and the lifeline of their expedition, plopping down on the spot.

Unfortunately, he only had one body, so his report would have to wait.

"…No tremors. So the trigger was defeating even one of the four special individuals for the first time. The later events were either to simply reveal their locations and encourage progress, or perhaps…—"

And then, the thoughts he kept hidden were spoken in an unaccented murmur.

"…Four of them. After the 'stag,' now there's a 'dragon.'"

The whisper, unheard by anyone, carried a note of amusement.

"In that case, that leaves the 'turtle' and… I wonder what the last one could be?"

He posed his question to the silent world.

◇◆◇◆◇

"………………"

There stood a single, speechless person in a mascot costume.

"…Is this… its full power?"

There stood a single samurai, whose admiration had turned to awe.

"…And here I was, trying to act all cool. You don't expect to get zero screen time, you know?"

And there stood a single artisan, quietly letting his true voice slip out.

Before them all, in the center of their collective gaze, was—

"Ende."

A girl, standing still on the former battlefield from which she had just vanquished all violence, scattering the 'swords' that served her with a single breath.

Her opponent had been a monster of tangled roots, estimated to be half-raid-class, just as the reports suggested. Compounded by its unusual name and its indescribably bizarre appearance, even the peerless warrior had thought 'this looks like a pain' upon encountering it… but this was the result.

The battle lasted roughly thirty seconds. What was meant to be a probing attack ended up finishing it right then and there.

"Phew… —Ah, um, excuse me!"

Whether she noticed their gazes or read their minds, Sora turned around abruptly, her cute reaction belying the utter devastation she had wrought just seconds before. All they could do was laugh.

And even if it was a wry laugh, in this place where they were constantly pressed for time, they could only welcome such absurdity and madness.

"That was splendid. Good work. —Alright, you two artisans."

"Aye, leave it to us."

"That was amazing. Well then, shall we show off what we can do next?"

After all, they themselves were a part of the absurdity and madness that existed in this virtual world.

At the very least, those present here were aware and proud of it, and accustomed to dealing with beings of similar caliber on a daily basis.

Faced with such a nonchalant attitude… Sora, who had the awareness but whose pride was still developing, blinked in surprise, her expression a complex mix of wonder and confusion. Then,

"…Ah, I… I'll go make a report!"

"Yes, please do."

Again, it was a reaction that didn't fit the unreasonable, borderline nonsensical display of power from moments before.

Irori simply smiled as he watched the girl's back as she ran off alone, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He saw her off with true, absolute trust, not a single worry in his mind.

---

Sora is so cute (and so violent).