Chapter 122: Embracing the Light of Ambition — Part 8
From the status screen to the items tab, a special window expands, and I take in the information on the Non-Standard Tactical Machine Bird Suzaku.
Sunraku: "Obviously it can fly, so its attack methods are... no, never mind."
What I'm expecting from this thing isn't combat power. Suzaku's visual sensors gaze at me with lifeless eyes, and holographic text appears on the helm I've equipped. I can't wear the full powered suit. But since the energy is supplied by the reactor—meaning from the Tactical Machine Beast—the individual parts can still operate by themselves. And if all I need is to send commands to the machine beast, a headpiece alone is enough! It covers my entire head, much like the Staring Bird Mask. Yet its metallic feel unmistakably tells me it's a component of the powered suit. But once I put it on, I realize there's one clear difference from a metal helmet.
Sunraku: "An all-environment full-face helmet... I can see things more clearly with this than with the naked eye, can't I?"
Normally, a helmet imposes restrictions on your field of vision just by equipping it. Maybe they didn't pursue that level of realism, because it's not like you can only see through a narrow slit—a decent amount of vision is secured. Still, compared to having a mask cling tightly to your face, or being bare-faced, the field of view with a helmet on is definitely narrower. But Glosswing's head casing operates via the energy supply from Suzaku. From the moment I equip it, it provides me with perfectly clear vision, with no restriction whatsoever—as if I'm not wearing a helmet at all. Not only that, but I can see things more clearly than I could with the naked eye. The darkness is removed as if it were nothing, and the green of the grasslands, the too-black fur of Lycagon—all of it is perfectly visible, just like broad daylight. Then, text appears at the edge of my vision. It seems to be a message from Suzaku, requesting orders.
[Suzaku — command display: "Standing by. Awaiting commands."]
Sunraku: "Okay. Sorry to put you to work right away... See those clouds over there, trying to hide the moon? Go scatter them for me."
[Suzaku — command display: "...Understood."]
That split-second of silence—was it loading time to comprehend my words? Or did it understand, then hold back the urge to retort, "You woke me up for this?!" The one thing I can say is that—maybe it was my imagination—but Suzaku's mechanical eyes carried an oddly wistful melancholy. However, for me right now—no, for us—this is important. Among the four, only Suzaku and Seiryu can fly. And the only one that can scatter clouds at low cost is Suzaku, with its wings. It's practically fanning duty, but I'm gonna need you to do it.
Suzaku spreads its mechanical wings. Looking closely, the wing-like structures are formed by numerous small boosters linked together. The jet flames that erupt upon flight create wings of fire. A flaming meteor soars from the earth to the sky. From the main booster installed where the tail feathers would be, a fiery trail cuts across the night sky, drawing a single line. With the moon at its back, wings spread wide, Suzaku plunges straight into the clouds dimming the moonlight.
Sunraku: "Somehow... I'm starting to feel bad about making it do such a stupid job..."
Psyger-0: "Sunraku-san, over there!"
Sunraku: "Whoa!"
Too bad, Lycagon. From here on out, consider your invisibility sneak attacks unusable for a while. Without that damn attack, you're nothing more than... a low-opening, tanky monster that's hard to build stagger on, who still sends out clones even without invisibility, with high-level AoE attacks, homing attacks, delayed feints, and dodging—all wrapped up into one neat package. Just... just a... Just a damn tough enemy after all!!
From the ground, a tiny ember—little more than a microscopic speck dancing in the sky—tears through the giant-like clouds and scatters them. No longer dimmed by gathering clouds, the moonlight gently illuminates Rei-shi, me, and Lycagon.
Apocalypse has been used five times. Catastrophe has currently landed its third hit. I've grasped Lycagon's behavior almost completely. As long as I don't lose focus and trip over my own feet, I'm confident I can fight for far longer than the last time I battled it... but here's where a problem arises.
Sunraku: "That bastard... it's figured it out... and it's aiming for her, isn't it?"
Almost an hour has passed since the battle started, but now Lycagon has begun blatantly targeting Rei-shi. Even when I try to pull aggro with flashy actions or heals, it clearly prioritizes Rei-shi. As I thought, Lycagon's AI is on an entirely different level. It learns during battle which threats are real and which can be ignored, then strikes precisely where it hurts. Rei-shi's player skill is considerable, but her maneuvering depends heavily on her skills. I've been jumping in here and there to barely keep things together, but skill cooldowns, lapses in concentration, accidental slips... I have no idea what might trigger a collapse.
The one saving grace is that this area is a vast grassland with few obstacles. At the very least, there's no limit to how far we can fall back, and the room for maneuvering is enormous. But what's a massive advantage for me is currently working against Rei-shi, who's under concentrated assault.
Sunraku: "Damn it... if I'd known, I'd have gone full wall tank and picked up some aggro-stealing skills!"
I raise my right fist to the sky, checking a window as I curse. I dash toward Rei-shi—who's taking focused fire because I had been holding the aggro until a moment ago, then pulled away to recover, leaving her to take the focused assault. I'd love to use crystal pillars for acceleration, but the angle of impact affects how the crystal pillar grows. If I fire while running like this, the crystal will shoot out in the wrong direction. And as an attack method, even if I try, Lycagon easily smashes through the hastily-grown crystal, which is nothing compared to the real Crystal Scorpions'. I can't count on converting crystal into attacks. That means I'll mainly use it for movement and footholds. And if that's the case, the attack isn't about DPS—it's about how effectively I can apply the firepower of a single blow... I need an attack that can divert attention from Rei-shi, who looks ready to collapse at any moment.
(Should I use... that? No. That is my genuine trump card. No matter how much of a pinch Rei-shi is in, I can't use it yet...)
If Crescent Vorpal—usable only with Togetsu — Moonblades: Waxing & Waning—is my ace, then that is my absolute joker. A special skill loaded with multiple demerits, it holds power equal to a hidden ultimate technique—something reserved only for foes that can't be felled even by the lethal double-sided five-strike skill Rei-shi is aiming for.
What do I do? What should I do? Agatram is usable. I've lost count of how many times I've used my buff skills, but the most recent ones are still within their effect duration. To deliver maximum firepower with maximum efficiency, I need... right. A weak point. Not a weak point specific to Lycagon. Something more fundamental: the weak point of a "wolf-type monster"... as a living creature... Got it.
Sunraku: "Rei-shi! Hold on just a little longer! ... [Firing-up]!!"
Never in my life have I found voice commands more cumbersome than today. My left fist begins its activation, firing a Crystal Bullet. It doesn't have the lethal velocity to be used as a firearm, but it still flies slightly faster than my running speed, landing right beside Lycagon. Confirming the impact, I—still wearing the Gilta Brille—execute a forward handspring. The vibration of my fist slamming into the ground propagates through the earth and activates the bullet.
Heaven and earth invert. Without resisting the sensation of inertia pushing my heels forward, I flip again, shouting the second activation command.
Sunraku: "[Growing-up]!!"
Simultaneously with the crystal pillar's generation, I land on my right foot first, channeling that momentum into propulsion as I plant my left foot forward. Using the unavoidable deceleration—no matter how much I minimize it—to my advantage, I accelerate even further, dashing straight for the crystal pillar. By instant rough estimation, I plot an approximate route in my mind from my coordinates to the crystal pillar, then to Lycagon's position. Five sprinting steps to launch, then I leap and activate Flit Float. Stepping on air, I spring diagonally forward. Using the crystal as a foothold, I activate Gravity Zero. By drastically reducing the gravitational burden in non-ground locations, just like its name implies, I move as if in zero gravity, sacrificing some acceleration but twisting my body to lock onto my target: Lycagon.
I believe in this game. Because of the massive wall of age restrictions, the expression itself settles into a milder form—polygons scattering like shattered glass. But touch the neck, and you'll know immediately. Even if it's a player's, there's a pulse at the neck, a heartbeat at the chest. Unbelievably, that means they've recreated "the human body itself" in polygons. It's an element that shouldn't be necessary for a game. But in Shangri-La Frontier, it's not just a human-shaped avatar—the body is constructed of polygons as a single living being. And that's precisely why Mobs directly suffer the pain of weak points that players can't feel. For example: because there's only a thin layer of skin over the bone, because the nerves run just beneath the surface... it's said that "even the mightiest warrior will weep in pain if struck there." The shin, for instance.
Sunraku: "Even Benkei cried, so you... cry too!"
I wind up my fist, kick off the crystal pillar, and close in on Lycagon's right hind leg in a single burst. Activating Sengoku Burai (Warrior’s Ultimate Manifestation)—the long-awaited pure close-combat enhancement skill formed by linking Martial Reliance Fighting Spirit and Infight—I pile on damage modifiers and slam my silver-gleaming arm into Lycagon's shin.
Lycagon: "GRUOOA!?"
Sunraku: "Hah-HA! That's quite the stupid yelp you let out, Lycagon!"
The sensation of a perfect hit. The inertia riding my right arm collides with one of the pillars supporting that enormous mass, converting into energy that erupts in the exact opposite direction. Without resisting it, I control my wildly wavering core from this unstable midair position, land, and immediately pull out of Lycagon's range. Like dancing, like a rabbit hopping. The tiny man—nothing more than a splinter in the world of that giant wolf—moves as conspicuously as possible, stealing Lycagon's gaze and the aggro that had been directed at Rei-shi. The Gilt Scorpion Gauntlets have high power, but their handling is heavy. That's exactly why, when switching to defense, Togetsu is the right choice. Removing the gauntlets, I grip the two Togetsu blades as I calculate the approximate time limit from our steadily worsening situation. The trigger... is Rei-shi's limit. At the very least, if she keeps being targeted alone like this... generously estimated, fifteen minutes. That's the tipping point where this battle swings heavily in Lycagon's favor.
Now then... what do I do...?
The night grassland. A flame bird in the sky, a black wolf on the earth. As the armored knight and the half-naked man sprint, leap, and swing their weapons, one shadow runs with two rabbits clinging to it.