Chapter 392: Side 10: A Passing Encounter
[Author's Note: Saber Diarmuid's movements were so close to Sunraku-san's ideal form that maybe I should just picture Rakuro's face as Diarmuid! (Nonsense brought on by a gacha wipeout, running out of embers, and QP bankruptcy.)]
[Author's Note: Okay, forget that.]
Imron: "Look, it's not like I... I mean, it's not like I'm obsessed with being the one and only number one or anything. But, y'know what? The idea that my enjoyable crafting-focused play was just messing around with a gapped-out set of choices... that's a joke, right? For a while now, Legacy Weapons and Gratefuls have been a total black box, nothing I could get a handle on. If there's a ship offering passage, even with conditions attached, I've got no choice but to get on board, yeah?"
A noisy one had joined the party. Psyger-0's internal muttering seeped outward, her shoulders drooping just a little.
Psyger-0: "Um, the details... will come after you actually cooperate, so..."
Imron: "Don't give a damn. I ain't expecting everything to be settled with upfront payment. But if you make me work for free, I'll use every means at my disposal to throw your ringleader into the slammer."
Psyger-0: "Somehow, he'd probably just get bailed out through shady connections..."
Still, they couldn't just stand around shooting the breeze forever. Even with the combination of Maximum Firepower [Attack Holder], the owner of the Holy Hammer (plus a Vorpal Bunny mage), Psyger-0 and her group were now facing a desert that stretched as far as the eye could see, its full picture still completely unknown.
Imron: "A confusing structure, different from the sea of trees... Got any map items on you?"
Psyger-0: "Two, but..."
Imron: "Well, that ain't gonna cut it..."
Mapping items activate when you take them out of your inventory, charting a map with a 25-meter radius centered on the user. But this game is nothing like some makeshift maze set up in a gymnasium. Let your guard down, and even the very first area, The Rampant Forest, carries the risk of getting lost. And even Tottori needed over fifty maps just to lock down the route from Tiaplaten to the frontline base. That alone shows how worryingly low a number like two really is.
Imron: "Transfer scrolls?"
Psyger-0: "I have some. Need one?"
Imron: "Nah, I'm good. I've got my own. The other issue is food and water... In a desert, can we really count on an oasis?"
Psyger-0: "We should consider ourselves lucky if we find one, I think."
Her current position was born out of calculation and a half-parasitic playstyle, but perhaps thanks to her quick wits, Psyger-0 was able to exchange information with Imron without issue, just like any full-fledged hardcore player.
Imron: "The problem is the sand that makes up this field... Think we can get a solid footing?"
Psyger-0: "Swinging a sword should be fine. But, defense might be a little difficult."
Imron: "More than that, it's mobility. Step wrong and the sand'll grab your feet and send you flying."
Crunch. The sollerets, made of some unknown metal, crunched into the sand and sank slightly. It didn't seem like it would keep swallowing your foot like a bottomless swamp or an antlion pit, but the area, likely built deep with sand, gave the two a terrible premonition. The precedent of the second area boss players fight, and the standard rules of gaming, were screaming at them.
Imron: "...Ah, yep. This thing's definitely gonna come from below."
Psyger-0: "Yeah... It's coming."
Imron: "What?"
It wasn't her own intuition. It was a report from the radar clinging to her neck. And just as those words said, the ground begins to shake. Instantly exchanging a glance, Psyger-0 and Imron spring apart as if repelled. In the next instant, a huge mass erupts from below, punching straight through the layer of sand where the two (plus one) had just been standing.
Imron: "A snake!?"
Psyger-0: "No! The classic wriggling thing that comes out of the sand is... a worm!!"
Just how much propulsion did that eruption have? The worm, towering upright like a pillar, was so huge she had to look up at it. Even Psyger-0's amateur eye was forced to understand that its total length easily exceeded ten meters. What flashed through her mind was Arctus Regalex... the giant oarfish that dwelled at the bottom of the sea. But the giant worm before her was clearly different from that—it exuded a grotesqueness that felt organic yet utterly emotionless, a kind of living lifelessness.
Imron: "Oi oi, is this the end of our adventure already...?"
Psyger-0: "No. With three people, I don't think it's impossible... I think."
Imron: "Hah? Three?"
Unlike Ruluiath, where they had a certain amount of freedom, the terrain advantage in this sand sea was overwhelmingly in the monster's favor. Players couldn't chase a giant worm that burrowed into the sand, and the worm's attacks constantly carried the element of surprise.
Diale: "Is this really okay, Psyger-0-san?"
Psyger-0: "Holding back is dangerous... And, if we're pulling you into this... hiding you would be unfair."
From the cloak that Imron had just been thinking was oddly mismatched with her armor, long white ears suddenly pop up with a poof.
Diale: "Honestly, you're pretty good at forcing unreasonable things on people, aren't you... But danger is part of training! Let me show you my power! Feast your eyes, as they say!"
Imron: "A Vorpal Bunny...!? Don't tell me, you too!?"
Psyger-0: "Yes, well... And the key to the smithing you don't know about also lies with them... It's coming!!"
Imron: "Don't say distracting things like that—mooo!!"
Battle start. Judging that both Diale and Imron were leaving the orders to her, Psyger-0 draws her iron flail and issues quick, concise instructions.
Psyger-0: "First, let's test the waters! We'll figure out what works while watching its attack patterns!"
Imron: "Then I'll take the vanguard! Blitz Forge!!"
The holy hammer wreathes itself in lightning. Three ores pulled from his inventory are struck in rapid succession, and by the time they hit the ground, they've transformed into a kukri sword, a javelin, and a hammer. The giant worm, which had swallowed a massive amount of sand into its gaping mouth, uses its whole body's spiral undulations to forcefully expel it from excretion ports all over its flanks in a shower-like spray, while charging forward. Dodging it, Imron hurls the improvised weapons one after another. Thrown with decent STR, the three weapons are nonetheless easily deflected by the huge mass and momentum. But Imron, who had been watching intently, picks up the hammer from among the blown-away weapons. As if convinced of something, he yells.
Imron: "Slashing is weak! Piercing is iffy! Blunt is effective!"
Psyger-0: "Thank you...!"
Diale: "Psyger-0-san! It's hard for me to move with these legs!"
She answers with action. Diale leaps onto the hand Psyger-0 silently extends and instantly scrambles up to the top of her head. Confirming that Diale has started chanting magic without another word, Psyger-0 tightens her grip on her weapon... Rabbit Wind: Murakumo. The Vorpal Sledge, a fatal war hammer, had been reforged by the Divine Craftsman Vysache, evolving into this true form.
Psyger-0: "The charge is simple... no, we should assume it can at least track us a little. An ambush from beneath the sand runs the risk of the vibrations throwing off our footing..."
Imron: "It's coming!!"
Psyger-0: "Diale-san, hang on!"
Diale: "Don't need to tell me!!"
A tremor shakes the sand sea. Immediately after, the worm erupts at the spot where Psyger-0 had been standing, its body twisting like a forced, writhing square pillar turned into a drill, rampaging. In that instant, Psyger-0's entire body is enveloped in the light of skills. A full-power, full swing, loaded with layered stat buffs and the correction of attack skills, drives into the worm's flank with a thunderous roar. Psyger-0's level is still 99, as she hasn't unlocked her level cap. But she's reached Extend, and through numerous level-down rebuilds, her effective stats are on par with a player who has unlocked the cap. The "Iron Flail" weapon type's trait changes the slashing skill into a blunt attribute, and the impact makes the worm's body contort. Insects don't have vocal cords, but the cracks running across its carapace visually advertise its agony to the surroundings. Flustered, the massive body dives back into the sand.
Psyger-0: "But, this is..."
The damage of that single blow, the monster's fatigue, its traits... Putting it all together, Psyger-0 became certain this would be a long fight, and her expression under the helmet turned into a grimace of disgust. Indeed, a player who's gotten used to full-dive VR can, if they put their mind to it, manage a fight lasting several hours. But even so, the worm, with its limited attack windows and various advantages over them, was bad enough. Having to fight it on an unstable footing on top of that... the mental strain aside, overworking the brain could trigger the system's safety protocols. A player whose daily gaming life was inseparable from "grinding" could deliberately conserve their mental energy to extend the time before the safety triggers. But the more disadvantages and problems in the fight, the more that time limit gets shaved away.
Imron: "What now, max firepower? That thing's toughness is way above its size class. Even if we run, the foot speed difference in this desert is way too big."
Psyger-0: "........."
She couldn't bring herself to issue an overarching command. Her sister could probably make the decision without hesitation. Pencilgon could probably throw her party members into a deathtrap without fearing the risk. But Psyger-0, who is neither of them, couldn't decide: flee, or fight. So, if there's a clear difference between them and Psyger-0, maybe it lies in...
???: "Lend you a hand."
Maybe it lies in encounters between people—like her meeting the one she admires, or like the people who support him.
Suddenly, a nice guy appears. He hides his face with a cloth, aware that his race's face is a bit hard for others to accept, and sports legs with incredible leaping power and four arms. What is his true identity...!? He hasn't been through any modification surgery.