Chapter 56: Putting Feelings Into a Moment, Part 4
Author's Note:
The author knows nothing about dialects outside their own region except what's on Wikipedia, so any character who speaks with an accent is essentially using "fake dialect." Some readers may find the speech patterns irritating, but please be understanding.
You know what a bard is, right? In fantasy settings, it's usually that guy in the tavern singing heroic tales with a lute. Sometimes it's a player class — a magic-user who excels at buffs — but the important part is the lore side of it. When you're telling a story like that, the key is "how far do you embellish the truth?" Puff it up too much and it bursts; the art of expansion lies in threading the line between "no way, that's impossible" and "impossible... but maybe a hero could pull it off."
So, if I'm going to tell Vash something in this situation, I need to take the truth and make it more dramatic, more romantic, more dynamic. And I have one big advantage: Vash is an NPC, and a Unique NPC at that — one not widely known. That means there's no harm in spilling Pencilgon's plan.
Sunraku: "...It's not like I'm doing this because I'm sure I can win, aniki."
Vash: "Hoh?"
Sunraku: "Like I said, I'm just the sub — the backup. The mastermind behind this is an acquaintance of mine."
First, establish my position. Make it clear that challenging Wethermon the Tombguard isn't about self-interest; it's about backing up a friend.
Sunraku: "Aniki, do you know what state Wethermon the Tombguard is in right now?"
Vash: "Nah. Ain't seen him in ages."
Sunraku: "Right now he's being used as a tool... to train a group of, uh... murderers, basically."
I wasn't sure if "PK" would translate, so I went with a different comparison. Still, kinda harsh? But I can't think of a better way... ah, maybe I should've gone with "thugs."
Sunraku: "The one who cooked up this raid is one of those thugs herself... but she's dead serious about taking down Wethermon. She's pulling out every stop."
If she weren't, neither me nor Modor Katzo would have signed on. At the very least, that "plan" she handed over — now sitting as a text file on my phone — wasn't the kind of thing you slap together as a gag. If this turns out to be some huge prank, I'm cutting ties.
Sunraku: "Even with everything she's doing, our odds... well, forty percent at best. No, maybe thirty."
Vash: "Ain't that just plain reckless? I don't recall teachin' ya that a Vorpal Soul means throwin' your life away."
Sunraku: "Fair point. But my friend... no, me and the other guy, we've got no intention of losing either."
This is the crux of it. Sell the drama, make the words sing. Stretch the bare-bones explanation thin as pizza dough and pile on the toppings.
Sunraku: "I'm just putting my strength behind her will to win... and so is the other guy. Sure, if we die, we just pop back in bed — but that's not what this is about. One shot, that's it. She said win or lose, this is the last time. I figure lending her my strength... that's just what you do. It's about honor."
Vash: "I see... ya bring up honor, and I'm weak to that."
Bingo! This is a great flow!
Vash: "But that don't change the fact you're weak, boy. So what about that part?"
Sunraku: "Two weeks. That's the time we've got before we face Wethermon. Me and the other guy — we're still green as grass, but... we'll make it in time. Turn our brash, greenhorn courage into the kind of nerve it takes to challenge the strong."
Personally, I'd give that roleplay a passing grade — but how will it land? Strictly speaking, I don't need Vash's permission, but to keep Rabituza's affection high while still going after Wethermon, I need to nail this flag right here. The one snag: Vash's suspiciously deep connection to Unique Monsters and the fact that I still don't know what his deal is. In my head, I'm almost certain he's one of the as-yet-unrevealed ones. If there's any sense of camaraderie there, I'm pretty screwed. In that case, I'll have to spam the Dogeza command. Worse comes to worst, the kejime command too, maybe?
Vash: "............I get what you're sayin'."
Sunraku: "!"
Vash: "When I first heard, I thought maybe you'd gotten the wrong idea 'bout what a Vorpal Soul is... but nah. The Vorpal Soul inside you ain't rotted one bit. Your resolve — we've seen it with our own eyes."
The me inside my head has a party popper and a confetti ball ready to go. Is this it? Is it...?
Vash: "And my cute little girl's asked me a favor, so... how's about we lend ya a bit of our strength too?"
Pam-paka-paaaaan! The ball cracks open, a banner reading "Congrats! Good Communication!" unfurls, and party poppers go off in a storm of confetti. Ohhh, you see that, Faria?! Unlike you, where I have to shove food or cash at you every damn time I want to raise your affection, this is a god-tier game where people actually listen when you talk to them! How do you like that, huh?!
Sunraku: "Thank you, aniki!"
I feel like I'm forgetting something, but for now, let me bask in the afterglow of successfully clearing the Good Communication & Assistance flag. Vash stood up and trudged off somewhere with heavy steps, beckoning me with a crook of his paw... ah, "follow me"?
Vash: "He's always been a clumsy bastard, that one."
"That one"...? Oh, he means Wethermon. If I can get lore about him from the worldbuilding side, that's huge. Sometimes the key to solving a mechanic is hidden in dialogue that isn't straightforward combat strategy. I focus up and strain to catch Vash's words, which almost feel like he's talking to himself.
Vash: "Lost his wife over a clumsy lie. And 'cause he's so damn serious and don't know when to hold back, he went as far as ending up in a body that won't even let him die, and he's still standing there in that place."
Can't die... so maybe he's undead? Though with those, "dead but not dead" might be more accurate. Either way, neither interpretation is wrong.
Vash: "When I met him, he still had his dignity... but now he's just a walking corpse moved by a clumsy vow."
Sunraku: "...Even so, I'm still gonna challenge him, you know?"
Vash: "Yeah, go do it. He can't fall down on his own anymore. So someone's gotta knock him flat and put him to rest... We've decided we won't lay a hand on his kind. But if you're the one doin' it, I ain't gonna stop ya."
Sunraku: "............"
So Vash won't interfere with other Uniques. Setting aside the specifics, does that mean there's some kind of non-aggression pact between them? Still, if he's willing to help me while knowing I intend to take down Wethermon, it's not like he's completely uninvolved... Hmm, times like this, I kinda wish I had a lore-nerd acquaintance. Katzo and Pencilgon are both hardcore player-side grinders, after all.
Vash: "Oi, we're here. How long's it been since I used this place...? Heh, well look at that — all cleaned up nice."
Bilac: "Well o' course. If I left the cleanin' to Pops, the furnace'd be clogged with dust and he'd just leave it."
Vash: "Oi, Bilac."
Emul: "Big Sis Bilac!"
We'd arrived at a cozy little... smithy, I guess? Compared to the old guy's forge in Secondale where I had the Marsh Dagger made, or the smithy in Thirdrema where I only ever got weapons repaired, something about this place felt... I don't know. Hard to put my finger on, but there was a furnace, an anvil, a hammer... this was definitely a smithy.
And judging by Vash's and Emul's reactions, the black rabbit welcoming the three of us — Bilac — was Vash's daughter and Emul's older sister. Wait... Bi-lac, Em-ul, Pea-tz... could it be that Vash has kids from A to Z? Bigger family than I thought. Vorpal Bunnies are incredible.
(Also, does that mean each of them has a different speech quirk or accent...?)
I just barely managed to swallow that thought before it slipped out, and met eyes with the black rabbit — bigger than Emul but smaller than Vash.
Bilac: "So yer Sunraku, the one Pops 'n' Emul been talkin' about... I see. Ya got eyes like Iver."
Don't! Don't drop any more new names! At least let me take notes! Or make a wiki! Let's see, Bi, Ee, Em, Pii... my head's starting to hurt.
Vash: "Bilac, we're doin' a true-forging."
Bilac: "! ...Pops, ya mean yer actually swingin' a hammer after all these years?"
Vash: "Yeah. If he says he's takin' on that half-dead bastard, we gotta step up too."
Bilac: "Heh... just wait a spell. I'll fire up the furnace for ya."
As Bilac started working, Vash turned back to me.
Vash: "Oi, take out your Vorpal weapons."
Sunraku: "Uh... both?"
Vash: "Yeah."
I pulled the Vorpal Choppers out of my inventory as instructed. Vash took them and stared intently, like he was inspecting them.
Vash: "Yeah... yeah. They've properly recognized you as their wielder. With this, we can work with 'em. Now — you got any materials on hand? Somethin' from a foe you had a hell of a time beatin'?"
The first thing that popped into my head was that black wolf — the one that chewed my leg off and slapped me with that nasty curse. But I can't really call that a hard fight. A good fight at best... or just plain flailing. The next tough one that came to mind was the Mud Digger, but unfortunately I'd sold off its material, the "Mud-Diver's Dorsal Fin," to fund the Ritual Medjed Keffiyeh.
Which leaves... only one option. That thing that, even at ninety-nine percent dead, never ran, and came at me with every intention of killing me.
Sunraku: "It's debatable whether I really 'struggled'... but I've got material from a strong opponent."
Vash: "Hmm... Quad Beetle carapace. Not bad."
I pulled the Quad Beetle Heavy Carapace from my inventory and handed it to Vash. As an item it should've been pretty heavy, but Vash took it as lightly as a kickboard. I'd chosen the carapace instead of the horn or the jaws because the thing that felt most troublesome about that fight was its ridiculous hardness and the charging attacks that leveraged it.
Vash: "Bilac, how's the furnace?"
Bilac: "Gettin' warm. Still needs a bit longer."
Vash: "Then let's get the prep work done first."
As Vash ambled off, picking through tools hanging on the wall, I felt a tugging at my belt. Turning around, I found the black rabbit looking up at me with a fearless grin that looked just like Vash's.
Bilac: "Yer a lucky one, ain'tcha? Pops ain't swung a hammer in years."
Sunraku: "He hasn't? Uh... Bilac, right?"
Bilac: "Mm. After Aniki inherited the whole Rabituza king business, I took over Pops's smithin'."
Smithing? My confusion must have shown on my face, because Emul — who had somehow climbed up onto my head at some point — started thumping my forehead as she explained.
Emul: "Ah, of course Sunraku-san wouldn't know...wa! Dadd—ahem! The Chief is a blacksmith...wa!"
Bilac: "And not just any smith. He's a 'Master Craftsman' — a title only those who've perfected the craft can claim. And an 'Ancient Craftsman' who forges weapons of the lost Divine Era... He's mastered both, makin' him a 'Divine Craftsman.' That's our Pops."
Eyes sparkling, Bilac and Emul both looked toward the furnace, where Vash stood before the roaring flames. The ringing sound of a hammer echoed out.
Author's Note: