Chapter 287: Epilogue—The Dragon-Calamity War Spreads
[Settings overload dynamite! (death throes)]
I had so much I wanted to write that I was sobbing, but the Arnold Schwarzenegger (Commando) in my heart encouraged me with "Then just write it all!"—so I wrote it all.
The Red Dragon Dances, Unaware of the Gleam of the Splinters It Sends Flying
???: "———Help request... 232nd attempt, failure. The transmission device is deemed definitively destroyed."
The doll's expression does not change. If its own voice cannot reach anyone, then it has no choice but to look not upward, but at itself.
———Right arm missing due to excessive impact ———Left hand worn down from unanticipated usage ———Both legs crushed from pressure exceeding durability ———Armaments damaged dealing with an unexpected encounter ———Retrieval target... undamaged
It was nothing, really. All it learned was in greater detail that its current state was one of total exhaustion requiring immediate repair. The doll, expressionless, contemplated what to do now.
The doll had been operating to fulfill the reason for its existence when it encountered something like a crimson-flame red... dragon. Consulting the shared database, it identified the individual as "Deuredhowl." For a certain reason, the doll had been unable to fight at full strength. It barely managed to survive at the cost of its lost limbs and scattered armaments.
Its right arm had been blown away by the impact of a massive "tail." Both legs had been crushed beneath an impossibly heavy "foot." Its weapons had been lost trying to pierce "scales." It had leapt from a cliff to escape the "breath"... and its left hand, forced to support both the doll and one other person, had been ground away while desperately gripping the rock face.
And, looking at it another way, the retrieval target—who could be said to have had her life saved by the doll—well, she was...
Retrieval Target: "I-I said enough already! Uugh, why do I have to go through this too...!"
Doll: "Retrieval target importance rank: Full Scramble. If you possess a level of reason that allows linguistic mutual understanding with this unit, I recommend you refrain from moving from this location."
Retrieval Target: "No! I don't want to stay long in a place like this!"
Doll: "It is precisely because it is a place like this... For you see, this is..."
The next instant, a sound like a landslide and a roar echoed. But it was not the sound of collapse—it was an advance.
Below them lay a mysterious plateau of crystal earth that shone blue-green beneath the sun, then turned a vivid flame-like red beneath the moon at night.
A doughnut-shaped canyon had been gouged around that jeweled land. Something of tremendous mass thundered past the slight hollow where the doll and its retrieval target were sheltering, as though intent on digging the already-excavated canyon even deeper.
Doll: "Terrain designation: Sigmonia Canyon Frontline. It is a nest of cannon centipedes that bore through the earth."
Retrieval Target: "Pyoah...!?"
Its in-game designation is Treynor Centipede Gustaf. Its enormous body rivals even Arctus Regalex, a formidable monster of the deep-sea death zone, and the sight of it tearing across the land is like a runaway express train freed from the rails. What most clearly distinguishes it from an ordinary centipede are the cylindrical protrusions jutting from the shell along its back—structures unmistakably built for bombardment.
However, in this circular valley with a jewel at its center, Treynor Centipede is not the sole apex predator.
Doll: "Warning. It seems battle has commenced... a fortress spider."
A projectile tears through the air. The moment it lands, the brood clinging to the round—made from densely hardened, highly adhesive silk—detonate all at once, hammering Treynor Centipede Gustaf's shell with the impact.
Facing the giant centipede is another monster whose name suits its scale: Fortress Gargantula. Fine hairs cover its enormous body—though at its size, each hair is about as thick as a human arm—and hundreds, perhaps thousands, of young spiders cling across them.
It uses its own young, and even its male mates, as "soldiers"—sometimes as outright "weapons." Despite already possessing one of the most formidable bodies nature can produce, this fortress-like spider actively arms itself with still more weaponry.
Both are insects. There are no words between them, not even roars. The spider and centipede simply face one another while the impossible mass packed around their joints creaks and grinds.
Beside the two titanic monsters towering overhead, the doll and its retrieval target are absurdly small. As they watch, the monsters collide—
Retrieval Target: "...Hey. We're getting stepped on by an even bigger spider and centipede."
Doll: "———Answer. Presumed to be the queen individual of Fortress Gargantula... and the female individual of the Treynor Centipede. This unit judges continued operation difficult at this time. Beginning information inheritance process to other sister-units... Beeeep-grrrkk..."
Retrieval Target: "Hey, wait! Are you giving up on a whole bunch of things?! Nooo, I don't wanna die!!"
This is Sigmonia Canyon Frontline. One of the most dangerous regions in the New Land, where Fortress Gargantula and Treynor Centipedes wage a brutal territorial war.
And...
From the crown of imperial gemstones at the canyon's center, the "Scorpion" looks down upon them all———
The Blue Dragon Lies Exposed; in Death, Its Body Becomes Sustenance
On a coast of the New Land, unknown to anyone, it had washed ashore.
Its whole body had been torn apart by the minions of Slaygiven Caryangler. Arcorium Hermit had fired poisonous organisms into it—organisms lethally effective specifically against Eldranza—and Atlanticus Lepnorca had finally reaped its life. The result was pitiful beyond words.
The name of that corpse was Eldranza. The final fate of a dragon that once proclaimed itself the ruler of the seas.
In Shangri-La Frontier, the deep-sea area is a true monster realm. Three monster species, each given blatantly biased balance tuning by a certain individual, lurk there in secret. Their performance is so absurd that beating them is nearly impossible unless you can fight somewhere on the seafloor that still lets you move as freely as you would on land.
And Eldranza, blinded by its own arrogance, committed the folly of picking a fight with all three at once.
The end result washed up on the shore. But no one knows of this place. That is partly due to topographical reasons...
And at the same time, because those who knew... did not live.
Bzz bzz, bzz bzz bzz, bzz bzz.
———It... was terribly starved.
Not hunger. Not malnutrition. Nothing so mild. Its volume was lacking. Its capacity was lacking. Everything that constituted itself was lacking. The occasional prey that wandered in was nowhere near enough. It had pared itself down and barely kept "itself" together, but even that had reached its limit.
Brrrr brrr brrr brrr brrr...
———It... was terribly afraid.
It possessed nothing that could truly be called emotion, nor a will strong enough to meet the threshold of a living creature. Yet it understood the purpose of its own existence. That utterly basic purpose—to live—was what filled it with terror.
Squish, squish squish squish...
———It... found a meal.
It sank its fangs into what had once called itself Eldranza. It swallowed the rotted flesh, slurped the befouled fluids. Real mass flowed into its tiny body, smaller than a human palm.
Splurch.
With a wet sound that made it seem for an instant as though it had burst apart... it "split."
One became two. Two became four. Four became eight. The multiplying swarm devoured Eldranza's corpse, then continued reproducing and recombining while consuming even the bodies of its own growing numbers...
???: "Quwrrrrrrrrrooooooo..."
At some point, there stood something in the shape of Eldranza—its entire body replaced by "red."
But it had not recreated Eldranza at its peak. It had reproduced the dragon exactly as it was at the moment of death. Its corpse-like form radiated a simple, primal disgust—but there was no living creature present to feel it.
———There is no one here who knows its name.
But the one who designed it, and those who manage this world, know its name.
"Great Red Devourer"... If the Crazed Horde of Blue sealed at the bottom of the abyss is a microorganism that feeds and multiplies while parasitizing inorganic matter, then the Great Red Devourer is, in a sense, its opposite.
———It... is a locust that "replaces" the organic matter it devours with itself.
———It... is blood.
———It... is flesh.
———It... is...
The Green Dragon Awakens, Kicking Away the Lawless Squatters
That pioneer player is named Tottori the Shimahne.
He belongs to the clan N.M.M.—Naked・Mapping・Market—a group devoted to plunging into unexplored areas before anyone else and mapping out the whole of them. The clan is also on good terms with the Library. After enough twists and turns to fill a book titled something like An Elven Heroic Life That Began with Friendly Fire, he had somehow ended up hailed as a hero by the elves.
One such day...
Tottori: "Whoa! What the— an earthquake?!"
???: "Tottori-sama! We must run!!"
Tottori: "Same old loser mentality... Wait, Erina! What the hell's going on?!"
Erina: "Well, the great tree where Hesh-sama made her home...!"
There is an upper branch of the elf race known as High Elves. High Elves, gifted in magic, and enhanced elves known as Dark Elves retain comparatively more pride than ordinary elves, whose defeatist streak has practically become a racial trait.
Tottori: "That tsundere elf...! So what about the tree—"
???: "Who gave you permission to make your home upon my back!!"
A roar. It sounded like rock-shattering cracks running through, but Tottori recognized it as language carrying distinct meaning.
Tottori: "...Okay, I get the gist, but is this bad?"
Erina: "The Green Dragon Blockentreed... This isn't about winning or losing!"
The rumbling did not stop. The shaking grew so violent that if you let your guard down, you'd be knocked over even on the floors of the makeshift houses built in the trees.
Erina: "It is deeply regrettable... but Hesh-sama..."
Tottori: "So, a decoy..."
Exiting the house with the elf who had joined his party, Tottori cautiously—mainly being careful not to fall out of the tree—watched intently as the wood house was folded up.
(I figured it's some kind of skill... A skill that lets you set up a save point anywhere as long as you have a tree with a thick trunk and materials... I want to learn it, but if it's a race-specific skill, is it a Conversion case after all?)
The wandering elf race, possessing no real means of resisting even pseudo-dragons, had apparently refined the art of packing up and fleeing overnight throughout its long history of escape and migration. Looking around, you could see Elves everywhere folding up their houses and running away.
But the thing demanding the most attention here was, of course, that.
Blockentreed: "It stinks, it stinks... You wretched kin... and... the scent of gold...!"
Unidentified elf: "Hii... s-someone help..."
An elf whose leg had likely broken—bent in a direction that was clearly wrong even accounting for the softness of a female body—stared up at it, trembling as if about to lose control of her bladder.
In place of flight capability, its wing-arms were like hammers, primarily bludgeoning weapons. Root-like fur covered its entire body, each strand moving as if alive and stabbing itself into the ground.
With the bizarre image of an ox-headed turtle with wing-like arms flashing through his mind, Tottori gave a strained grin and broke into a run.
Tottori: "Hey there, Ox-Turtle. Sorry, but I'll be passing through!"
Blockentreed: "Nnnn...?"
Hesh: "Y-You're..."
Tottori: "I haven't seen your dere phase yet. If you die, the elf-thread bros will chew me out... Erina, sorry, but drag her away."
Entrusting Hesh—whose ears were longer and larger than other Elves—to Erina, who had rushed after them, Tottori readied his bow.
Erina: "But Tottori-sama..."
Tottori: "I'll be the decoy."
For Tottori, winning the elves' trust in order to obtain the enormous prize of a save point that could be set up almost anywhere was a top priority. Hesh had lasted the longest of the several leaders who had come and gone since Tottori was first welcomed as the elves' hero. Raising her favor was therefore worth taking a risk for—or so Tottori told himself with perfectly rational calculation as he activated a recording item.
Then, he suddenly thought.
(Wait. The most recent save point got folded up... so where the hell do I respawn?)
As he recalled, if a save point was destroyed, he should respawn at the previous intact point where he had saved. And if he woke up aboard a New Land Research Vessel, finding the elves again after they had moved their settlement would be extremely difficult...
Blockentreed: "You insect!!"
Tottori: "Ah, oh crap!!"
The White Dragon Rages; Those Who Know Endless Strife Are Rusted Steel Now
They possess sturdy bodies. They possess large frames. They are ever accompanied by weapons. They are called the giant race—Gigant.
And they are... a race of dragon slayers: Dragon Slay.
???: "Again—my beloved child...! I will not forgive you. I will never forgive you, you worthless weeds!!"
???: "Gehahahaha! What is wrong with crushing the maggots that come crawling out like insects?!"
???: "Aye! Well said, Steel Fist! Half-baked dragon whelps like those are no good boiled or grilled. Crushing them into fertilizer is the only value they have!"
What happens when beings already enormous compared with humans swing greatswords as large as their own bodies? The answer is being demonstrated right now. Two Gigants and one dragon clash with pure, unfiltered killing intent. From the white dragon's feet, an inexhaustible stream of small dragons—downsized versions of the white dragon—crawled out and attacked the Gigants one after another.
Barudon the Claymore: "Behold, my friend! Witness the way of life of Barudon the Claymore and his partner!!"
Amberleg the Steel Fist: "Aye! I, Amberleg the Steel Fist, shall sear it into my eyes!!"
A greatsword mows through the pure-white whelps that leap forward on instinct. Bryleinyego screams without hiding its fury as its children burst apart—the word "severed" would be far too gentle for what happens to them.
Bryleinyego: "What are you doing, my children! Avenge your fallen siblings!"
Barudon the Claymore: "Guah-ha-ha! Is that all you ever do, cowering and trembling behind them?!"
Amberleg the Steel Fist: "But Claymore! This is getting tough even for us, is it not!"
Barudon the Claymore: "Aye, I was just thinking the same! Hmm, it seems we have not yet reached the weapon of a true hero... Well then, shall we flee!"
Hopelessly outnumbered—and with no means of defeating the white dragon in the first place—the Gigants were always going to end up in this position. Even knowing that, their fighting spirit never dims.
Barudon the Claymore: "Right, here we go! We'll be back! Bla... Bla-bla Neko-neko!"
Bryleinyego: "Do not let them escape! Kill them!!"
Today, as always, and tomorrow as well, the battle between dragon and Gigants continues. They fight to fulfill a promise from long ago—and, separately, because battle is where they feel most alive.
The Black Dragon Yearns, for That Longing Is Proof of Its Existence
Unidentified player 1: "Shit... at this rate they'll break through!"
Unidentified player 2: "Damn it, that dragon's pulling boss moves but its tactics are so petty!"
Unidentified player 3: "Reinforcements coming! Wait, ugh! It's a Cerberus Tyranno!!"
The tanks holding the defensive line are blown away. The culprit—a monster resembling a three-headed Tyrannosaurus—screams beneath concentrated fire from players who manage to recover their formation. But that was not enough to stop the three-headed sub-dragon... Dracule Dinosauberus. The power that once crushed an entire large-scale hunting party has not faded in the slightest.
Unidentified player 4: "What do you mean 'not even worth unsheathing my claws'?! That black lizard!"
Unidentified player 5: "A monster pulling a monster train? That's way too petty!"
Noirlind: "Oh? You bark well. Then I shall trample you myself."
The coastal town, steadily developed into a frontline base for the pioneers, is being torn apart—by monsters driven against it by Noirlind the Black Dragon, and by Noirlind himself as he casually tramples players and mocks their weakness.
Noirlind: "Hmph... weak, so weak. Frail insects like you should simply shut up and submit to me."
Unidentified player 6: "Don't get cocky, you damn enemy! Flame Bra— Eek!?"
If Noirlind alone had attacked, the players might have been able to hold their ground. But fighting Noirlind while simultaneously handling the monsters he had whipped into a frenzy and defending the base was simply too much for the first wave of players.
Noirlind: "Your refuge is that nest, is it? Then if I destroy it, I wonder what will become of you...?"
Unidentified player 7: "Oh shit... the ship's being targeted! Somebody grab aggro!!"
Power gathered in the black dragon's mouth. It is the same dragon breath that once erased a certain player without leaving a trace. No matter how sturdy the ship, if it took a hit on its unprotected flank, it would be a fatal blow—a blow of annihilation.
A player trying to pull Noirlind's attention is sent flying by a horse-shaped pseudo-dragon—a Triceratops-like beast—that charges in from the side.
And the jet-black breath Noirlind released shot straight for the New Land Research Vessel—
Siegwurm: "We have not faced each other for even an age, yet your persistence alone is first-rate... Noirlind."
It did not reach.
An instant before impact, a golden figure drops between the vessel and the breath and spreads its wings. The jet-black blast—powerful enough to reduce dozens of players to ash with plenty left over—scatters as effortlessly as smoke.
Noirlind: "Ooh... ooh...! That gold, that form... I could never forget, I would never forget... The humiliation I suffered from you... though I rise again and again, I shall never forget...!"
Siegwurm: "Hmph. A parasitic spore-creature clinging to the world has some nerve talking tough."
Noirlind: "Siegwurm...!!"
Before the half-destroyed human base—whether by coincidence or mercy—the Golden Dragon King faces the jet-black dragon as though shielding the New Land Research Vessel, the pioneers' refuge and save point.
And the Golden Dragon King Proclaims Aloud: O Humans, Surpass Me...
[System: Bonus Unique Scenario "Come, Heroes - My Destiny Spans the Ages" has begun.] [System: All players in the New Land area will automatically participate in this scenario.]
[System: Bonus Unique Scenario "Come, Heroes - My Destiny Spans the Ages"—Clear Conditions: Defeat the Unique Monster "Siegwurm the Sky Ruler," OR defeat "Deuredhowl the Red Dragon," "Blockentreed the Green Dragon," "Bryleinyego the White Dragon," "Noirlind the Black Dragon," and "Eldranza the Blue Dragon (Subjugated)."]