by Blitz Kiva
Meanwhile, what was transpiring up on the surface could be thought of as the Grand Quest’s “main course.”
The United Guild’s underground team had completed their mission on schedule, causing the Grand Boss to spawn above-ground. It was time for the surface division to rally to face it. The hand-picked participants in this part of the mission — consisting primarily of Red Sunset Knights — charged boldly into battle, soon to seize the glory of triumph over the boss.
Or so it should have been.
Stroganoff fell to a knee, supporting himself with his magic sword. His body was badly beaten, his HP gauge was down 30%. Squad commanders Gazpacho and Parmigiano had fallen, and Tiramisu was hanging on by a thread. She was known for having the highest defense stats out of all the Knights, but she had been forced to focus on protecting the others, and the strain of it was starting to show plainly in her face.
“Guoooooaaaaah!”
It was an unworldly noise. While it couldn’t possibly be causing the air around them to vibrate, the players felt it throughout their bodies as if it really was a physical force.
It was more than just a feeling, though. This was the monster-exclusive Art, “Terror Howl.” The howl, which seemed to ring out all across the Necrolands, inflicted the merciless debuff “Terror” on all players whose stats were below a certain threshold.
The eyes, blazing red...
The gaping maw, slit from ear to ear...
The dripping skin, glistening eerily from head to toe...
White fur covered its head and ran down its neck and along its back. The skin below was a deep purple, marked here and there with visible, pulsating veins. Its head contained two horns that proudly asserted themselves skyward, but what drew the eye most of all was its four unnaturally enlarged, muscular arms.
“Damnation! What were the devs thinking?” Stroganoff swore hoarsely, and all other players present seemed to be in agreement.
The Grand Boss — the Devil Zombie — was proving more powerful than they could ever have imagined. Each swing of its four arms sent the vanguard of tanker Knights scattering like confetti in the wind. Gazpacho, who had been meant to serve as a shield for the Knights alongside Tiramisu, had been no exception.
“Tiramisu, get back,” Stroganoff ordered. “We need your health back at max before that next four-hit combo. Spellcaster support squad, switch your auto-cast to defense buffs.”
“Y-Yes, sir,” they all said.
If they fell here, after all their boasting, the proud Knights would become a laughingstock. They had to seize victory at any cost.
Although the surface team was made up primarily of Knights, having had part of their core team diverted underground had been a crippling blow. They had been joined by other top players in exchange, but it was hard to coordinate with someone whose playstyle you weren’t familiar with.
Suddenly, Stroganoff heard a scream from Tiramisu, whom he’d sent to the back lines. He turned to see it — a grotesque display of corpses piled one on top of each other. A Zombie Legion, that fighting objet d’arte created by the Necromancer.
Stroganoff cursed again. He had always known that other mobs might spawn in the vicinity the Grand Boss. He had faced cruel stage setups that implied a solo Grand Boss until a sudden rush of mobs assailed the party from behind. But no matter how bad it got, they’d always been able to deal with it.
Until this time...
It was a raid boss so powerful, it could cut through their front lines in seconds, backed up by multiple Zombie Legions and waves of Skeleton Chariots. It was excessive, by any stretch of the imagination. Stroganoff rarely complained about the development team, but even he couldn’t restrain his resentment in this situation.
“You must withdraw, Tiramisu!” The voice that roused the rattled warrior came from the hero rumored to have never logged out since the service began: the High Elf Philosopher, Tomakomai. The delicate features behind thin-rimmed spectacles contorted in disgust as he looked up at the towering Zombie Legions.
“Mr. Tomakomai...” Tiramisu began.
“I have no other choice,” he answered. “It seems I must unleash my hidden power.”
“H-Huh?”
He threw his glasses — the symbol of his intelligence — to the ground, and charged singlehandedly at a Zombie Legion.
“Screeeeeeee!”
With a screech utterly unbecoming of a Philosopher, he unleashed a flurry of flying kicks. Surprisingly, the damage was enough to cause the Zombie Legion’s enormous body to tremble. But a second Zombie Legion slapped the airborne Tomakomai back to earth.
“Gwaaagh!” Tomakomai’s willowy body struck the ground of the Delve Necrolands. What he had been trying to accomplish no one could say, but the hero who had never logged out since the service had begun now fell silent.
Stroganoff had been able to watch it all go down, but he couldn’t turn to aid Tiramisu. Dealing with the charging Devil Zombie in front of him took everything he had.
Tiramisu valiantly drew her Celestial Sword, and with the determined gaze that had earned her the name “Saint,” she stared down the Zombie Legion.
But, no... It was not possible.
She and the few party members who remained on the back lines were not enough to face down the horde. And if Tiramisu fell, there would be no way left to stave off the Devil Zombie’s attacks.
It’s hopeless, Stroganoff thought. But just as that thought entered his mind, a sudden gust of black wind pierced through her target.
There was no fanfare, just a sudden impact shock, as if the monster had been struck by a thunderbolt from heaven. The intruder dug into his target, tearing through flesh until its HP bar reached zero, then hit the ground like a bullet. The rubble and dust cloud effect kicked up by his landing concealed, for the moment, the shadow’s identity. But then the Zombie Legion he had eviscerated let out a moan, and slowly began to topple.
The dust cleared. A black coat fluttered in the wind.
With unadorned straight blade in hand, a young man with childlike features glared at the large horde of the undead.
“That’s...”
Someone called his name. “King Kirihito!”
“I see King has arrived,” Matsunaga said, opening up an app in his menu window.
Felicia looked up from where she was crouched in the corner.
The battle below ground had been settled with surprising speed. Ichiro, of course, had brought the full force of his abilities to bear, but Amesho had been stronger than expected, as well. Gorgonzola had contributed a great deal, and the party that had arrived before them had also given it their all. Of course, Matsunaga’s dagger and the bowguns of his archer squadron had proved quite useful, as well.
When asked about the secret of her power, Amesho had merely said, “Connections!” One assumed she was referring to the rare items equipped to every part of her body.
Ichiro was unaware of it, but the dagger she carried was part of a class of legendary weapons of which only seven existed in the game, and a bloody PK battle had raged around their acquisition. When asked how she’d gotten it, she’d merely replied, “From a friend,” which had stunned Matsunaga and Gorgonzola beyond the use of words.
“Oh?”
“Let me see...”
Amesho and Ichiro peered over Matsunaga’s shoulder at the application he was using. It appeared to be video capture software that also let the user watch video taken by someone else in the game in real-time. At the center of the screen was King, glaring at a Zombie Legion as it fell in a cloud of dust.
Ichiro looked around for Felicia and saw that she had quietly crept forward to watch the video, as well.
“What effective staging! Though I’m sure he didn’t intend it. He likely meant to arrive on time, but then the event triggered just a little bit early...” Matsunaga said happily, then opened up his text editor.
Perhaps he was already thinking up his next blog article.
“You have my thanks, Mr. Tsuwab
uki.” The relief in Matsunaga’s voice was palpable. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you were very cooperative. Thanks to you, I’ve safely accomplished my goal.”
“Ah, yes. But I haven’t actually accomplished mine yet,” Ichiro pronounced offhandedly.
Matsunaga’s moving fingers stopped. “Mr. Tsuwabuki... Do you...” His manner changed, a menacing glint appearing in his eye. Perhaps recognizing the malice in his voice, the bowgun squadron pointed their weapons at Ichiro.
“I came underground because I thought I might find King here,” Ichiro explained. “It was the first place I met him, after all. We left a bit of business unfinished, you see...”
Ichiro spoke the words with his usual indifference, but Matsunaga easily grasped the intent underlying them.
Ichiro didn’t care what else was going on. He was going to try to settle things with King Kirihito now. It was the exact development that Matsunaga had needed to avoid at all cost.
“Ooo, is this a fight?” Amesho enthused, while Gorgonzola gravely intoned, “It’s not good to fight.” Felicia’s brow remained furrowed.
“Mr. Tsuwabuki, no matter how quickly you go, it will take an hour... no, two hours, to reach the surface,” Matsunaga said. “King and the remaining Knights will have more than enough time to defeat the Grand Boss. I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”
“Nonsense.” Ichiro brushed aside Matsunaga’s attempt to persuade him. “I make my own luck. And Matsunaga, you said it yourself. The entire dungeon is a single map.”
“I did say that. What of it?”
With one hand in his pocket, Ichiro began walking around the stone room. The bowguns tracked his every move.
In a split second, Ichiro removed the hand from his pocket and thrust it at the ceiling. The magic power that Ichiro had been storing up with “Charge Cast” suddenly burst out of his body. It focused in the space just before his fist, formed into the shape of a dragon, and took flight.
It was the water attribute attack Art, “Dragon Rise Wave.” A strike that mimicked the rising dragon that sang of victory over the mountains of the gods. A torrent of magic energy that could reverse the flow of a waterfall. And combined with Break Object raised to an absurdly high level, it broke a hole in the ceiling of the dungeon. Ichiro had secured a direct escape route.
“Unbelievable.” Gorgonzola stared, dumfounded, while Amesho grinned and squealed.
Matsunaga showed no reaction. Perhaps he had expected this, after all. As a Dragonet, it was natural to assume that Ichiro would have mastered the flight ability that would be needed to use the escape route.
“I see I was right to bring insurance along.” Matsunaga snapped his fingers, and the flagstones in the stone room suddenly flew upwards.
Multiple players wearing horned Noh masks and ninja outfits leaped out and grabbed Felicia from where she stood. Not even Ichiro could react effectively against a surprise attack from an unexpected direction. Felicia neither screamed nor struggled as she was held in place, a small knife pointed at her neck.
“The Dual Serpent Shinobi Corps! So they really do exist!” Gorgonzola exclaimed.
“Matsunaga, that’s a dirty trick, ya know...” Amesho growled.
I thought that might be why he invited Felicia, Ichiro thought. That much was within the realm of his expectations, but what was really surprising was the fact that Felicia was so calm about it.
“Now, far be it for me to invoke a cliché, but... stay right where you are, Mr. Tsuwabuki. It would be very easy to pierce Miss Felicia’s throat.”
“It’s only a game.” Ichiro’s cool demeanor turned a few degrees chillier.
“You’re awfully cold-blooded, aren’t you?” Matsunaga asked.
“As I never bleed, I could not say. That aside, Matsunaga... I believe Felicia came with us with the full knowledge that something like this would happen.”
The restrained Felicia raised her face at Ichiro’s statement. He could see no fear in her expression.
It was clear enough that Felicia did not want Ichiro to fight King Kirihito. In other words, she was in agreement with Matsunaga — which might have been all the more reason why she had knowingly come along. The possibility that Felicia might go through with this was not part of what Ichiro himself had considered, so it took him aback slightly.
Despite holding Felicia hostage, Matsunaga showed no signs of gloating. He seemed to find it entirely conceivable that Ichiro might just watch her die. With the atmosphere stretched taut around them, it was Felicia who spoke first.
“Itchy.”
“Hm?”
Felicia bowed her head hesitantly for a moment, then asked...
“Itchy, you want to fight Kiryu... right?”
“Well, yes.”
“And you want to beat Kiryu... right?”
“Well, yes.”
What emotions were driving her in that moment? Felicia, as though making up her mind about something, pulled a dagger from her breast pocket. The masked Shinobi that was restraining her hurried to take it away, but she had inputted her action a moment sooner.
“What?!”
“Ah!”
“Wah!”
Sounds of astonishment rang out from all over the room.
One of the stone walls burst in, allowing ingress to a 50-meter-tall Power Golem. There was no point in restraining Felicia at this rate, and the bowgun team with their aim fixed on Ichiro couldn’t help but shift their attention to the golem. In an instant, everything holding Ichiro back was gone, and he had the opening he needed to take flight.
Ichiro didn’t even hesitate.
The Dragon Wings on his back unfurled, and he flew towards the hole in the ceiling. Below him, chaos reigned.
The massive Power Golem’s first act was to protect its master. It reached for the squad of burly Shinobi, sending them flying before they knew what was going on. Even Matsunaga was struck dumb by the sight as the golem put Felicia on its hand and fired up the rocket boosters on the backs of its legs.
“Itchy!” Felicia shouted. As Ichiro headed for the surface, Felicia’s golem was hot on his heels. “I never actually figured out what to do, and I really don’t want to see you two fight...”
He could barely hear her over the roaring verniers, but he could tell that Felicia was screaming with all her might.
“...but I also wanted you both to do what it is you want to do! So...”
Her golem was specialized for power alone. It lacked speed and stamina. The boosters ran out of fuel almost immediately, and the golem lost its thrust. The massive 50-meter body slowed, floated, and then tilted into freefall. Felicia lost her balance on its hand.
Ichiro grabbed her fragile arm.
“I-Itchy...” she stammered.
Ichiro pulled the stunned Felicia upwards and cradled her in his arms. The Power Golem disappeared in the distance below.
“Thank you, Felicia,” Ichiro said honestly, without changing his expression.
“N-No problem...” she managed.
“That’s all I wanted to say, but I can’t exactly leave you behind now, so why don’t you join me?” he asked.
“Sure...” He could feel her nod awkwardly in his arms.
5 - Noble Son, Rampage
The quick work King Kirihito made of the enormous Zombie Legions drew incredulity from all sides.
Tomakomai was still on the ground, while Tiramisu braced with her sacred sword in hand. Kirihito was too short to cover them physically, but there was no longer any danger to either of them.
The many Skeleton Chariots turned their wheels, focusing their aggro on him, but he set each of them flying with a single Bash. He utilized a unique stance to expand the range of his impact. Pulverized, the bony creatures scattered into particles of light.
“King Kirihito!” Stroganoff, holding down the front line, spat out bitterly. “What are you doing here?”
“Nothing much...” King let the Knight’s hostility roll off his back. “I just came he
re to meet someone. I’m not here to kill-steal.”
Stroganoff evaluated the situation, skeptical of King Kirihito’s words.
The timing really had been impeccable, and he’d stolen quite a lot of the spotlight. But with the front-line warrior Gazpacho and rear guard Parmigiano out of the fight, and Tiramisu and Tomakomai barely hanging on, Stroganoff couldn’t deny that he was grateful for the help.
The glory of defeating the Grand Boss...
To a man like Stroganoff, who made that his only aim, King was completely unpredictable. Someone with his skill could easily have ridden the timing of his intrusion to deal critical damage to the boss. And as one of the game’s top players, it was hard to believe he had no interest in beating it at all.
As if noticing the unmasked confusion and concern in his eyes, King Kirihito let out a sigh. “Look, it’s fine. If you still think you can beat the boss, go ahead and do it. I’ll watch your backs.”
“What...?” Stroganoff said.
There were still multiple Zombie Legions and dozens of Skeleton Chariots. That was not a line to be said so casually in the face of such a force.
Just what was the man thinking? But the Devil Zombie’s unrelenting attacks gave him no more time to think about it. After somehow managing to resist a heavy yet quick strike with Weapon Guard, he called a potion into one hand and drank it down.
In the continuing chaos, the raid team had lost nearly half of its elite members. Nearly all players on both fronts had sustained serious damage. Realistically speaking, the most efficient strategy would be for them to take care of the surrounding mobs while King turned his attention to slaying the boss.
But...
“I thank you for your aid!” Stroganoff said to King Kirihito, then rallied his fellow players.
There were just under 20 in total. They could take out the Grand Boss with just this many men. They were still the Red Sunset Knights. They were determined.
Tiramisu and Tomakomai provided healing spells and buffs. The frontline players got their preparations together quickly, then charged the Devil Zombie.
