Chapter 156: Fear Not the Tyrant
Araba: "Honestly… I finally get a chance to go out and search for my beloved sword because those damn fish bastards aren't around, and what happens? I end up facing off against Atlanticus Lepnorca with just the two of us…!"
Sunraku: "I understand even less what's going through the head of a guy who'd cross right in front of that… Atlanticus whatever-the-hell-it's-called… to save someone he hasn't even known for a full day…!"
Araba: "I owe you my life!"
Sunraku: "I seriously respect that you can say that outright and act on it without hesitating, wa."
Araba, his tail moving just above his rear, gripped me and propelled us through the air. Under normal circumstances, I'd be enjoying an aerial swim, but right now, a dual-element orca—apparently called Atlanticus something-or-other Lep-something—is hot on our tail in a blind rage. Well, if you're at the dinner table and a fly buzzes in, and just when you're about to squash it, another fly shows up, of course you'd be pissed. But whatever the reason, we managed to escape with our lives… Still, this is a problem.
Sunraku: "Isn't it gonna be tough to lose that thing?"
Araba: "…It will be difficult, yes. Atlanticus Lepnorca is a monster that's essentially a mass of fighting spirit. Once it decides to fight something, no matter what it is, it'll keep rampaging until its enemy is dead."
Like those Crystal Scorpions—do these things not know the meaning of "know when to quit"? They say a lion goes all out even to hunt a rabbit, but if you wreck your body doing it, what's the point?
Araba: "…Sunraku. I'll draw that thing to the outer edge of Ruluiath and somehow force it outside."
Sunraku: "Why'd it gouge out such a weird shape like that? It went here, then here, then bent like this… Ahh, I see… Alright, change of plans. We're taking that orca bastard down."
Araba: "What? Even I can move quickly in the water—I won't mess up easi… What did you just say?"
Sunraku: "Huh? I said we're taking down that dual-element orca bastard, right here. Change of battle plan."
Araba does a double take, staring at me with a dumbfounded look as if I were a sardine picking a fight with a shark, but it's not like I'm suggesting we charge in with no plan.
Sunraku: "Araba, dodge!"
Araba: "Whoa—!"
Sunraku: "Looks like after it fires that laser, it doesn't have enough energy for a second shot or an electric discharge…"
Araba: "More importantly! Sunraku, did you just say we're going to defeat—defeat Atlanticus Lepnorca?! Are you serious?! It's absolutely impossible!!"
Sunraku: "Sorry, but I'm dead serious. Look over there."
With my right hand held by Araba, I use my left to point Duxram, Blade of Aspiration, toward the city below, specifically the main road leading to the tower I used for my experiment. There, a straight gouge mark—likely burned and "cut" by the dual-element orca's laser—scarred the blue stone pavement.
Sunraku: "See, the spot where that Atlan… whatever, let's just call it Orca Bastard—the spot where it first attacked me was around that pile of completely collapsed rubble. The place where I intercepted the attack was that house that's been shaved down into that weird shape. So why the hell would a spot like that get gouged out?"
Araba: "What on earth are you—"
Sunraku: "It's a simple science problem. What happens when you shine a light at a mirror? Ctarnidd's ability is 'Reversal'—if it can flip even concepts, then reflecting an attack according to the laws of physics would be child's play."
If that "gouge" was caused by the orca bastard's laser aftereffects, this entire area should be flattened. At the very least, if that beam had enough residual force to gouge out a road five or six meters below, my body would've been vaporized long ago. And the biggest reason this theory doesn't hold up: if it were caused by aftereffects, the gouge should continue from the dual-element orca's position all the way to the tower. That weird, half-finished gouge makes no sense otherwise. Plus, the straight-line gouge gets shallower the closer it gets to the tower, and deeper the farther away it gets. If that's the case, there's only one possibility.
Namely: that tower definitely didn't let the damage through, but it didn't neutralize the attack either. I hypothesize that what occurred was a physical reversal—or rather, a "reflection." The laser that hit the tower directly was reflected like light hitting a mirror, its direction flipped based on the angle of incidence, and the reflected beam gouged deeper and deeper into the road the farther the light traveled… That explanation fits the current scene—that weirdly gouged main road.
Araba: "And what does that have to do with anything?! You're not seriously planning to make Atlanticus Lepnorca's attack hit that and reflect it, are you?!"
Sunraku: "Oh, bingo. Emul would've panicked a little more, though."
Oh, and that gaping mouth? Kinda makes you look like a fish.
Sunraku: "Here's the deal: it takes about twenty seconds for that thing to fire its god-awful laser again. We lure it in nice and smooth and make it fire that thing straight at the tower's front again. This time, head-on."
There's no way the tower itself is a gimmick… right? That'd be overthinking it. But at the very least, designing an object that "reflects" attacks seems like it was made with the assumption that players would exploit it. Just off the top of my head, I can think of at least three ways to abuse it. The fact that it's not "indestructible" but specifically "reflects all attacks" means there's some kind of intent behind it. Whether that intent is a property for combat fields or for scenario purposes isn't what we should be debating right now. The enemy fires lasers. We have a means of reflecting them. As long as we have those two things, a player can stand up to even a giant monster. And while we're at it, hyping myself up with something cool-sounding makes it even better!
Sunraku: "I don't know if they're kings or whatever, but we've gotta challenge the Ruler of the Deep—a boss I'm not even sure those guys could beat even if they were all bundled together and thrown at him—so you think I'm gonna get cold feet in a place like this?!"
Araba: "……Understood. I'll put my faith in your words. What should I do?"
Sunraku: "Fishing."
Araba: "……Excuse me?"
You know lure fishing, right? The thing where you use an artificial lure. No matter what you do, a lure isn't a living creature, so when you fish, you gotta make it dance—twitch, twitch—to make the fish mistake it for a live one. Same idea. Well, not exactly the same, but from here on out, Araba, I need you to run for your life so that orca bastard mistakes you for "sticking with me."
Sunraku: "I don't know the principle behind it, but you can swim through the air too, right? Specifically, I need you to run like hell until the flames covering its upper half intensify and it's ready to fire that attack again. Meanwhile, I'll head to the tower and adjust my position."
Araba: "Isn't that going to be difficult? Atlanticus Lepnorca is clearly targeting you. If we split up, it'll probably chase after you."
Sunraku: "I've got a little secret plan for that."
I'm a man who learns from the past—and a man who gets stubborn the moment someone tells me no! I gave Araba a fittingly roguish grin and called it a secret plan, but the truth is… I'm about to test something, and there's no need to reveal that behind-the-scenes detail to an NPC. Right now, in this world, the role I need to play is "the reckless yet brave pioneer who stands against Atlanticus Lepnorca" with a roguish grin—not a grin that inspires unease.
Sunraku: "Listen, when I give the signal, I'm going to disappear… Probably, I'll be able to pin that orca bastard in place for a while… If my secret plan works, it should start targeting you next."
Araba: "You say 'disappear' as if it's nothing, but… no, I shouldn't press that issue now."
Sunraku: "Alright, I'll explain the plan. First…"
In the end, it's just AI—unlike humans, its thoughts and actions are nothing more than a semblance of life built on logic. That said, this is Shangri-La Frontier, a game where there's suspicion they're using military-grade AI even for monsters. So I can practically read the orca bastard's current emotional state like an open book. It's been locked in a frustrating battle trying to swat a fly that flew into its room, and its irritation is about to hit its peak… I get it, I really get that feeling. It's the exact same mental state I'm in when I'm forced to slog through a shitty, boring minigame for hours on end. It's not like it's an obligation—quitting wouldn't even trigger some serious penalty—but my own pride just won't let me log out. There was a guy like you up on the surface, too—though the gap in strength between you two is probably night and day… These muscle-brained types are a pain to control in direct combat, but controlling them on a strategic level is relatively easy.
Sunraku: "Now then, let me show you a magic trick from Sunraku, the muscle-brain physical build… Now, Araba!"
Araba: "Don't blame me if this goes wrong!!"
Fleeing from the approaching orca bastard, Araba releases his grip on my arm. Naturally, my body continues flying through the air for a second or two from inertia, but after three seconds, I start falling. The straightforward movement bound by the laws of physics, as opposed to our previous evasive maneuvering, made the orca bastard's eyes glint with a sharp light. As if deciding it won't let me live a second longer, the orca bastard opens its massive maw wide and surges forward to crush me in a single bite. Araba must be watching the moment of our clash from a slight distance. You're about to be busier than hell, so at least get into a crouching start stance.
Sunraku: "Well, I don't expect an answer, but… let me ask you one thing."
Falling upward—or is it downward?—through the water, with the wind at my back, I pose a question to the orca bastard that's seconds away from reaching me. Alright, let the test begin.
Sunraku: "Why is it that you bastards… are able to lie in wait for me?"