Infinite Dendrogram - Volume 2 - Chapter 6

Chapter Six: Beyond the Radix Point 
At a certain place in the City of Duels, Gideon. 
“Heyoo! Haven’t seen you fur a while, Figgy.” 
“Oh? I know that voice, but not the face. A new costume, Shu?” 
“You assume correctly. This is an MVP special reward called ‘Hind Bear.’” 
“...Another costume, I see.” 
“Yeah, it’s another costume. Got a problem with that?” 
“How many do you have by now?” 
“Sorry, but that’s not something I bear in mind. All I know is that I only have one that isn’t a costume.” 
“...I see there’s a bit of a bias.” 
“Every special reward besides the thing I got from Gloria is a costume! This makes bearly any sense!” 
“It’s quite unusual to be able to defeat so many UBMs, though.” 
“Sorry, but those words have bearly any weight when said by you, of all people.” 
“You’re probably right. Oh, it just hit me... You’ve worn bear costumes since that time, right?” 
“‘That time,’ as in...?” 
“The time we met.” 
“Oh yeah, I was beary ursine back then, too. Though that one was store-bought.” 
“It was also the first time we fought UBMs, right?” 
“Yeah. That takes me back.” 
“We sure had a hard time handling them.” 
“It happened when Infinite Dendrogram had only been out for only ten or so days, right? Our levels were still pretty low.” 
“Yep, that sounds about right.” 
“I’m still impressed that we were able to win... To be honest, looking back at it, it’s actually beary weird that we did.” 
“But you didn’t show any signs of giving up back then, right?” 
“Ha ha ha! As if I would. Like I said back then: ‘The possibility is always...’” 
 
Paladin Ray Starling, within a dream of the past 
On that summer day of 2035, my brother had gotten into an accident while protecting us. His life hadn’t been in danger. However, his right leg — hit by the truck — had been seriously injured. The flesh was swollen, the blood vessels under the skin had burst, and the bone was broken. In a game, healing magic or items would’ve made short work of such a wound, but in reality, it was a grave injury that would need quite a while to be fixed. 
It was bad enough for him to be hospitalized. And the tournament’s final match was supposed to happen about an hour after he’d received it. 
“Nothing t h a t cou l d be done?” asked the entity. 
“Indeed,” I nodded. “It was hopeless for him.” 
...If reason had its say, anyway, I thought. 
I could see the passersby begin to surround us and make a stir. Some were panicking, others were calling ambulances, while some journalist-looking sorts who were focusing on my brother as a fighter in the final match called out to him with a “Mr. Mukudori!” 
Standing next to my brother — who was lying on the ground — was young me and the girl, both crying. The girl was probably crying because of the fear of being involved in such an accident, while I was crying due to the fact that Shu had gotten injured because of me. 
I could clearly remember the things I’d thought back then. It could be summed up as guilt about what I’d done to him mixed with begging someone to help him. 
In response to all the sympathetic looks and my sentiment, my brother — still on the ground — looked at young me for a moment and... 
“Owie!” 
...jumped up after saying that in a tone one would use when accidentally hitting their head on a ceiling frame. 
Everyone was dumbfounded. 
The young me, the girl, and the passersby all looked at him with eyes open wide with shock. To add to that — even the silhouette right next to me seemed surprised. 
“Well, darn... This sure looks broken,” he said as he looked down on his broken right leg while standing on his healthy left. Yet again, his tone was unfitting, making him sound like he’d broken a piece of a plastic model rather than his limb. And no, it wasn’t “better than it looked” — his leg was severely injured. 
“That r e a ction is s t range.” The silhouette made a comment. 
“Well, it’s him we’re talking about, so yeah.” I was used to seeing my brother act and talk like that by now. But the young me still hadn’t had much exposure to his eccentricity at that point in time, so he was reasonably shocked. 
“I-I just called an ambulance! It should be here soon! Please don’t move too much!” one of the passersby told my brother. 
However, in response, Shu said, “Eh? Oh... Well, thank you for the concern. But there’s no need for that right now.” 
“‘No need’?” a number of people simultaneously repeated his words in disbelief. 
“I have a final match to participate in over at that building, so I’ll go to the hospital after that’s done,” he said. 
The moment he’d said that, I’d felt as though time had stopped. 
It seemed like I and everyone else on the scene — except for my brother — was thinking exactly the same thing: What is this guy saying? 
From its reaction, it was safe to assume that the silhouette shared the sentiment. 
 
The place of the dream changed, and we were now in Shu’s waiting room. 
Moments before this scene, this place had included doctor who’d given my brother some first aid and the master from his dojo who’d tagged along to see the fight, but they were no longer here. The only ones present now were me and Shu. 
His right leg was covered in a compress and bandaged. But that was all. There was no cast or any kind of support on it. After all, Shu was about to go fight in the match. He’d refused casts and supports because they would’ve been counted as weaponry. The injury was bad enough to need an operation, and yet... 
“. . . H e w ill fight?” asked the entity. 
“Yeah,” I nodded. 
Due to the lack of expression on the silhouette, it was hard to tell what it was thinking, but even I could tell that it was half amazed and half shocked. “No one s t o ps him?” 
“In a normal martial arts tournament, the fight would’ve been called off due to doctor’s orders, but this is Un-kra we’re talking about.” 
Again, Un-kra allowed anything besides the use of weaponry and threats, and would only end with KOs and give-ups. It was actually strange that such a tournament could exist in this day and age. 
“But it’s b roken,” the silhouette protested. “He ca n win? Doesn’t nee d right l eg?” 
“The koryu martial arts dojo my brother went to is based around blows, rather than throws and such,” I answered. “Naturally, kicks are a crucial part of it, and proper leg control while punching is highly important, as well.” 
Now that I think about it, that style is ridiculously manga-like, I thought. Seriously, during the demonstrations I saw, their kicks were breaking logs as thick as people’s torsos. What was the name of that kick, again? All I can remember is that it sounded pretty cool. 
“Is h i s opponent w eak?” asked the entity. 
“The opponent in the final match was Gregory Asimov Kaiser,” I said. “He was nearly two meters tall and weighed over a hundred kilos, most of which was well-trained muscle. Being well-versed in blows, holds, throws, and locks, he was easily the strongest student participant at that time. He’s now doing his best to be the top professional martial artist.” 
“Student... c h ild... child?” 
“He was seventeen at that time, which is underage, so yeah.” Also, even after ten years had passed, Gregory was still a well-known face in the end-of-year martial arts shows. Last New Year’s Eve — when my brother had returned home for the occasion — I could recall us both watching TV and seeing Gregory still doing his thing. 
“Brot her can’ t wi n, n o?” 
“He would’ve had little chance even if he was in top form, and yet he went in with a broken leg,” I said. “It’s only reasonable that people tried to stop him.” 
Not like he listened, I thought. Now that I think about it, the master from his dojo was one of the few who didn’t try to make him reconsider. 
“Shu, don’t! If you fight someone so strong with that wound, you’ll die!” The young me was still trying to get him to withdraw from the match. 
That was only natural. After all, when Shu had gotten injured because of me, I’d been overwhelmed by great fear. And yet, despite his state, he was about to go on and do something reckless, if not downright crazy. My fear back then hadn’t allowed me to stay silent and let him do it. 
“Well, I guess doing the Kodachi with my leg like this isn’t the best idea,” said Shu, completely nonchalant. 
Oh, yeah, I thought. That’s what the kick from his school is called. 
“Kodachi,” the wood-splitter or “battle ax,” was a frontwards roundhouse kick aimed at the opponent’s head. My brother was particularly good at it. The kick which — as the name implied — was strong enough to split wood and seemed capable of doing the same to people’s heads was feared as much as Gregory. 
However, with his right leg broken, my brother couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t do it with his left leg, either, since he would’ve had to use his right as the pivot leg. Shu was going to have to fight without his ultimate kick. 
That meant only one thing — he had no chance of winning. 
He’d gotten the wound because of me. And since it was going to be the reason for his defeat — or perhaps even death — I couldn’t stop blaming myself. Thus, I was trying to stop him. 
However, Shu showed no sign of changing his mind. He was always like that. Though facetious and eccentric, my brother wasn’t one to easily let go of something he’d resolved to do. 
Once the young me came to understand that trying to convince him was useless, he bowed his head in sadness. 
“I shouldn’t have jumped out to the road...” he muttered to himself. 
“Hmm.” Hearing that, Shu thought about something, leaned over to the young me, placed his hands on his shoulders, and looked him in the eyes. “Honestly, Reiji... I think you would’ve regretted it more if you hadn’t tried to save her.” 
“B-But you’re the one who actually saved her!” the young me protested. “I couldn’t do it by myself! All I did was get you hurt!” The young me wept about his powerlessness. All he felt was regret, grief, and anger at himself. 
“You’re right. I got hurt.” Shu agreed with me. “But you know, it’s entirely possible that I wouldn’t have saved her if you hadn’t tried it.” 
“Eh?” That surprised the young me. 
“Because you tried to save the girl, I — without thinking — jumped out to save both of you,” he explained. “In the end, she was saved because of your choice.” 
That might’ve been the truth, or just a lie to make me feel better. However, there was sincerity in his eyes. 
“That’s good enough, Reiji,” he said. “There’s no need to regret the act of choosing something. After all, it’s the ultimate premise to grabbing hold of the possibility leading to the future you desire.” 
He added a lot of emphasis to the words that followed. 
“After choosing something, all that matters is whether you can see it or not and grab hold of it or not.” 
“Grab hold of it or not?” the young me asked. 
“Yeah. The possibility is always...” 
These words of his... 
“The possibility is always there — with your will. No matter how small, no matter behind how many zeros beyond the radix point it lies — it always exists. The only time the possibility isn’t there is when you’ve given up on grabbing hold of the future you desire. As long as you don’t give up and keep making choices towards the future you want to see, the possibility won’t disappear, even if it’s far beyond the radix point.” 
These words of his were still etched onto my very core. 
“That’s why your choice to save the girl back there wasn’t a mistake,” he added. 
“Shu...” the young me said. 
He gave the young me an intrepid smile and stood up. “Today’s the perfect chance, so I’ll show you the ropes. You’ll soon see what it means to give your all to grab hold of the possibility.” 
With those words as his last, Shu left the waiting room and used his crutches to make his way to where the match would take place. 
 
That was when the dream portraying my memories reached its end. The venue we were in vanished, leaving only an empty dreamscape vaguely reminiscent of a pale haze. 
The young me and my brother were nowhere in sight, meaning that the only ones here now were me, as Ray, and the silhouette. 
“Is it o v er?” asked the entity. 
“Well, the match was supposed to happen right after this,” I replied. 
Though, if the dream’s objective was to display my roots, it makes sense for it to end with the exchange between me and Shu, I thought. 
“Can I ask a n o ther thi n g?” 
“Sure.” I knew exactly what it was gonna ask. 
“Di d h e win?” 
“He did.” 
Indeed — Shu had gone into the final match against Gregory and actually emerged victorious. 
“H o w?” the silhouette asked. 
Man, I really don’t wanna say it, I thought. Though I don’t want to keep the silhouette in suspense, either, so I guess I will. 
The news about my brother’s right leg being rendered useless had already spread among the people in the venue. Even the spectators around my seat had been talking about it. Also, the way Shu had gone towards the ring — crutches and all — had made him look extremely pitiful. While he was climbing into the ring, he hadn’t let his right leg touch the floor beneath him. Having to use his left one alone had given him a really hard time and gotten people to understand just how bad of an injury it was. 
For some reason, the people already knew that it was caused by an accident he’d gotten into while saving children, making him get lots of sympathetic glances. Some martial artists were praising him for not withdrawing from the match after getting such a grave wound, calling him “a true fighter.” 
His opponent, Gregory, shared the sentiment. “It’s a shame I don’t get to fight you at your best,” he said. “Though I’m sure that one day we’ll get to go all-out on each other.” 
Though he looked menacing, Gregory was actually quite a gentle person. 
“I’m sure we will,” replied my brother in a rather cheerful manner. 
There was a difference in height. In weight class. And a critical problem with the state of one contestant. The outcome was clear. What was about to happen was nothing but a ritual-like event meant only to preserve my brother’s pride and honor as a martial artist. 
That was what everyone present thought. 
Thus, the gong sounded... and Shu launched from his right leg, performed Kodachi, smacked Gregory across the jaw, and knocked him unconscious. 
The match had ended there. 
The fifth Unlimited Pankration U-17 had ended with my brother’s victory. 
“That was nuts,” I said. 
“...It w a s broken, righ t?” asked the silhouette. 
“Yes, he actually used his broken right leg to launch a jaw-cracking kick that gave his enemy a cerebral concussion and won by one-hit KO,” I said. 
Naturally, no one had expected Shu to do something that intense with his injured leg. Gregory certainly hadn’t seen it coming and hadn’t been ready to guard against it, letting my brother land a clean hit. 
“...Unfai r.” 
“You can say that again,” I said. He’d made all the sympathy he’d gotten from the audience go to waste. 
Now that I think about it, it was kinda suspicious how the very reason for that sympathy — the news of him getting into that accident — spread throughout the whole venue, I thought. It had allowed him to perform the perfect surprise attack. That was enough reason to believe that Shu had actually done something to make it happen. 
And with that in mind, it was possible to assume that even his cheerfulness before the match had actually been a strategic move in preparation for the kick. 
Whatever the case, that reckless attack had naturally made the injury worse, extending the recovery period from one month to three months. 
Once I’d met my brother after the event, he had put up the most obnoxiously proud face and said something along the lines of “This is what it means to give your all to grab hold of the possibility!” 
To which I had replied with, “Bro, you idiot! What are you doing?!” while throwing a towel at his face. 
Oh yeah, I thought. That was actually the point when I started calling him “bro.” 
“What an inte n s e brother,” commented the silhouette. 
“Indeed he is,” I nodded. 
Even though he’d seriously ruined the words he’d said back in the waiting room, they were still etched deep into my heart. That was the reason why I was always ready to reach for the possibility leading me to a future without regret or bad aftertastes. 
“That was probably why the replay ended after the talk in the waiting room,” I said. The match itself wouldn’t have added anything of value. 
Though it was probably a good show of his “grab hold of the possibility no matter what it takes” stance, I wasn’t the type to take the mentality that far. I’d also never thought I’d get into a situation where I’d have to, but... 
“Despe r a te times, desperate m e a sures,” said the silhouette. 
“Yeah,” I said. 
With the memory replay being over, I was about to wake up. Once that happened, I would have to face Gouz-Maise in an even worse situation than before. Thus, if I was going to seize the possibility, I’d have to get some new methods. 
“Well, I’ll have a go at it, anyway,” I said. 
“I s ee,” nodded the silhouette. “The n, wake up.” 
It seemed to me as though the entity smiled. 
“Ray, hav e a question?” 
Well, there’s one thing I want to know, I thought. 
“All right, I’ll ask directly... What are you?” My own conjecture wasn’t enough to figure out its identity. 
“...Eheh e h.” I couldn’t see any eyes on the dark red silhouette, but I could easily tell that it looked into mine and laughed. “You wo n ’t mas ter me if you on l y use the flames, Ray.” 

Those words were enough for me to understand what the entity was. “Y-You’re Gardran...?” 
Before I could finish that sentence, the world of dreams began to fade. 
“I am a fragment. A power left unused because of you defeating us while we were incomplete. I am the life and mind that the demon failed to birth. The life that was reborn as your item. I am the ‘me’ that wants to know the man who slaughtered my mother.” 
The silhouette — Gardranda — spoke while its appearance gradually became less vague. Its form wasn’t that of the great demon, but that of a small girl with horns. 
“I understand you now,” she said. “So please, understand me, too.” 
And so, our world of memories and dreams began fade. 
“Wake up, use all you have, including me and Nemesis, and grab hold of the possibility, okay?” She spoke those words, and reality came flooding back. 
 
Maiden of Vengeance, Nemesis 
As I had evaded its attacks and used feints, I’d bought about five minutes of time. My body was covered in many light wounds. Though I was able to dodge its legs and fists, I was getting damaged by the pieces of the ground and trees that it shattered. 
Though it hurt to admit it — my non-weapon form was weak. Since I had no means of healing myself, I wouldn’t last long. 
Gouz-Maise, on the other hand, was completely unharmed. Since my blade couldn’t even give it as much as a scratch, it didn’t even need to use Automatic Restoration. 
“?????????????? ???!” Even though it wasn’t hurt, Gouz-Maise was irritated that it couldn’t kill me and expressed it by letting out enraged roars and secreting some indescribable bile from the faces all over its body. 
The sight was downright vile. 
The creature was the very embodiment of the vileness involved in any gathering of corpses. Both its appearance and way of existing were revolting enough to turn the very sight of it into something that made my mind creak. That was how I felt about undead in general. 
Back when Ray and I had visited the Tomb Labyrinth, I’d been scared beyond words. I didn’t know why, but undead were extremely dreadful to me. When looking through Ray’s memories for an answer, I’d thought that I was simply weak to horror. 
However, that wasn’t it. I had come to understand it after facing the undead in the dungeon and the abomination before me. I wasn’t afraid of their appearances. What I found dreadful was their very existence. 
They were dead, yet they didn’t go to any afterlife, nor were they reborn. 
They were dead, yet they continued to walk among us. 
That nightmarish state was so frightening it made my heart tighten. 
I didn’t know the reason why. 
However, my heart was telling me that I simply couldn’t let it continue on like this. 
“My heart, eh?” I murmured. 
How peculiar, I thought. According to Ray’s knowledge, I am nothing but an AI inside a game. Do I really have a heart? Wait. 
“At the very least, I have enough of it to feel one thing,” I said. 
It was certainly there. I had a heart that felt something for Ray. 
“Heh heh.” I couldn’t help but laugh. There was no denying that it was quite comical. After all — he was the very cause of my existence. Yet, the way my heart felt about him was no falsehood. 
I... 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
“You just had to ruin the moment, didn’t you, you uncouth lout?” I snapped. 
Lengthy protrusions squirmed out of several mouths all over Gouz-Maise’s body. 
They were tongues. The rot dripping down from them wasn’t the only thing suggesting that they were quite unlike those of humans — their very shape was reminiscent of the tongues used by chameleons or frogs from Ray’s memory. 
It was obvious what it was planning to use them for. 
Clearly, it had grown sick and tired of my constant evasion. Much like snakes raising their heads, the tongues were readied to strike at me. 
“I won’t be able to dodge this,” I said. Not only was I injured — I simply didn’t have the skill and ability to evade such an attack. There was no way for me to stall it any longer. 
“...Heh heh.” 
Look at me, Ray, I thought. This is how strong I am by my lonesome. This is the extent of what I can do when I’m just by myself. While alone, I can’t go any farther than this. So... 
“So just come here already.” 
The moment Gouz-Maise was about to pierce me with its tongues... 
“Sure.” 
...I heard that single word, which was followed by a stream of dark red fire that burned the fleshy extensions. 
The fire on its tongues made Gouz-Maise wail in anguish. At this point, the blazing, dark red flames were familiar to me. After all, the one commanding them was my Master. 
“You sure took your time, Ray,” I said. 
“Sorry, a little dream made me oversleep,” he replied. 
“You shouldn’t keep a lady waiting too long,” I scolded. “But, well... you made it in time, so I don’t mind.” 
“Thanks, Nemesis.” 
Hearing that made my expression turn softer, but I made a conscious effort not to show it. 
“So, shall we continue?” I asked. “We’re out of Absorption uses and have wounds all over us. The situation is worse than before. Do you think we can do it?” 
“Yeah,” Ray nodded. “I remembered something... no, two things. We’ll use them to defeat this thing.” 
“Remembered two things? Care to share?” 
Before answering my question, Ray wore an intrepid grin. “Something I neglected to use... and my brother’s words.” 
The moment he said that, I instantly understood what he was thinking and came to know his plan. 
Oh my, I thought, both impressed and slightly shocked. 
“Heh heh! Are you insane?” I asked. 
“Nope,” he answered. 
“This will be an act of pure madness with a low probability of success. It will be as dangerous as a walk on a tightrope, won’t it?!” I was thoroughly puzzled by his thought process. 
“If the possibility is there, I’ll just give my all to seize it,” he said. 
I see, I thought. Then I shall accompany you. 
“Though, the chance of this plan leading us to victory is about... 30%, and that’s being generous,” he added. 
About a third, eh? 
“Seems enough to me,” I said. 
“More than enough,” Ray agreed. After that exchange, I took my sword form and became Ray’s weapon. 
“Let’s win, shall we?” I said. 
“Yeah, let’s win.” 
And so, turning to face the abomination that was Gouz-Maise, Ray and I became one. 
 
Revenant Ox-Horse, Gouz-Maise 
The creature the world proclaimed to be “Revenant Ox-Horse, Gouz-Maise” was enraged. 
Since the moment it’d been born, Gouz-Maise had felt only indescribable amounts of hatred. That was because the creature was an actual amalgam of the rage and resentment left behind by the deceased. It was the result of those who had left nothing else behind but regret. 
“????????????????????????!” 
That was all that Gouz-Maise was. 
The dead that were its base were those who had lived by avarice and vice — people who had failed to leave behind anything but their grudge. If at least one of those inside had died with love in their heart, this amalgam of death probably wouldn’t have grown this powerful and might not have become a UBM. But alas, that hadn’t happened, and Gouz-Maise — as it was now — would never reflect upon itself. The grudge boiling within the creature was enraging it, compelling it to use its might against the living and forcing them to join the grudgeful chaos within it. 
However, at this point in time, Gouz-Maise was even more enraged than usual. That was because the puny, mouse-like living creature below it couldn’t die. 
It was a Master. 
Masters were immortal. 
Killing them just made them momentarily disappear. However — that was the extent of it. These living creatures would simply brush off that transient death as if it was nothing and then just continue existing. 
This one, in particular, had faced Gouz-Maise and tried to prevent it from drowning other living creatures into its grudge. 
Even if hurt, left alone, or shattered with a punch, the Master would continue getting in its way. 
Gouz-Maise couldn’t stomach that. It didn’t have a mind to understand why, but it just couldn’t tolerate that Master. 
However, it was about to be over. Gouz-Maise had a means of ending it. It was a powerful spell used by one of those who’d become the creature. The undead intended to finally kill the Master by casting it once again. 
Once that was done, it intended to go to town. A significant part of its grudge wished to kill the people inhabiting the places within its memory and make them join the grudge within it. It believed that — in doing so — it could become more powerful and thus become able to sink even more living creatures into its grudge. And it would continue until the whole world was sunk. 
Yes... yeah, I... we are all dead here. So, a world where people still live is a mistake. It’s... wrong, it’s so wrong! All of it, all of it, all of it, all of it, all of it must sink into the abyss. Kill and consume everything there is in this world. 
Gouz-Maise’s consciousness was like a colored marble that mixed objectivity and subjectivity. Chaotic as its mind was, however, it could still become puzzled. Not by its own thoughts, obviously, but by the actions of the puny one below. 
The puny one used his left hand to push a cloth against his mouth... while the bracer on his right was directed at Gouz-Maise. 
Those bracers released fire. Gouz-Maise already knew that much. However, so far, only the left bracer had released the flames, and it had no recollection of the right one ever doing the same. 
As Gouz-Maise’s chaotic mind tried to figure out what the right bracer released... 
“Hellish Miasma... full power!” 
...the blond man declared something, making a dark purple smoke gush out of his right bracer with great intensity. 
Gouz-Maise wasn’t familiar with this attack. It didn’t know what it was, its effects, or what the enemy was planning. Using its limited reasoning power, Gouz-Maise tried to understand what it was, and it didn’t take long for it to come to a conclusion. 
The smoke was harmless to it — beneficial, even. 
It was miasma. A poisonous mist that afflicted, weakened, and led the living through a slow death. 
To Gouz-Maise — an undead — it wasn’t much of a problem. 
Because it had living cells, it couldn’t avoid the debuffs, but their impact on its body was insignificant. In the first place, slight amounts of Weakness and Intoxication were meaningless against an amalgam of corpses. Even if Gouz-Maise received the debuffs, their effect was negligible. Though Poison damaged its cells, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be taken care of by its Automatic Restoration. 
Thus, because it only pushed living people closer to death, the miasma was a net positive for Gouz-Maise. Trying to figure out why the man had done something so foolish, it finally became aware of a certain fact. 
It couldn’t see anything. The dark purple smoke had spread all the way up to the base of its throat, and not even the use of the eyes on the faces all over its body could help it make sense of the surroundings. 
This smokescreen was exactly what the man had intended. Even though the miasma was dangerous to him, he’d used it regardless just to hinder Gouz-Maise’s vision. 
“??????????????????????????!” Gouz-Maise roared and began rampaging wildly. Its ground-shattering, indiscriminate movements were meant to crush the man, who was surely still around. Gouz-Maise kept stomping for a while — not minding the damage it was doing to both the surface and the faces on its legs — yet it didn’t feel anything living under its feet. 
It couldn’t hit the man. Nor did it know where he was. That situation made it both angry and uneasy, but within its chaotic grudge, there was a composed part that came to a certain conclusion. 
The man is aiming for the head. However, he’s both puny and cannot fly. To attack the head, he will try to cut the legs. At that moment, we must cast the ultimate spell and kill him along with the limb he attacks. 
The plan involved sacrificing a part of itself. However, due to Gouz-Maise possessing Automatic Restoration, it wasn’t a heavy price. Even if the man had hidden himself, there was still only one way for him to emerge victorious. As long as Gouz-Maise didn’t let him do that, its victory was assured. The man could still use the flames, but they only gave it pain and never came close to being fatal. 
Next moment... The next moment we feel pain, we will launch the spell towards it, thought Gouz-Maise. The cost of using it a second time is heavy. However, it’s a small price to pay to kill him. 
With those thoughts, it focused its attention on its legs and gave the body’s control to the grudge that could use the spell. 
Then, it exposed the core in its head and readied itself to cast the magic. 
Suddenly, Gouz-Maise’s back left leg was touched, causing its semi-rotten neural system to send it a signal. 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!!” 
A moment later, it launched the spell with the intention to disintegrate both the man and its own leg. 
The speed at which it had turned its head to do that caused the rotten skin on its neck to rip and shred apart, but it didn’t care. Though its aim was extremely forced, the power of the attack was great enough to make its back left leg disappear. Gouz-Maise lost its footing and screamed due to the searing pain it felt, but the damage wasn’t something that couldn’t be handled by its restorative ability. 
What’s important is that we killed hi— 
The second that thought went through its head, the man that was supposed to be disintegrated jumped up on Gouz-Maise’s back. 
It couldn’t understand what had happened. Countless grudges within it became astir and caused it to momentarily stiffen. 
Then, it noticed the man’s state. 
His right hand was covered in blood and held a familiar piece of flesh. It was a part of Gouz-Maise’s body, and — by looking at his mouth — it was easy to tell that he’d taken a bite of it. Lastly, he held a halberd with a black flag flying behind its ax blade. 
Just now, with abnormal swiftness, he’d jumped on Gouz-Maise’s back, and he was now getting ready to charge towards its head. His speed was far greater than it had been a few moments ago, or even when he’d been completely unhurt. It was hard to believe that he was heavily hurt. In fact, his wounds were disappearing right before its eyes. 
Suddenly, the grudge that controlled Gouz-Maise shuddered with fear. After all — it was reminiscent of the chase back in the dungeon. 
“Looks like... it worked,” said the man through his ragged breath. The deathly faces all over its body heard the man’s mutter. “If you get a debuff by eating a part of a debuffed opponent’s body... Reversal recognizes it as a negative effect caused by the enemy. That was proven by the Grapevine I fought this morning.” 
Gouz-Maise didn’t understand what the man was saying. 
“I didn’t know if Hellish Miasma had any effect on undead, and there was a chance that the thing with the Grapevine only happened because it was caused by its attack,” the man said. “If that was the case, I’d have ended up dying from my own attack... but it worked.” 
Gouz-Maise couldn’t make sense of the man’s current state. 
“Ha ha... What a disgusting gamble,” the man laughed. 
Gouz-Maise just barely had enough mind to understand that the man had created this situation by consuming its rotten flesh. 
“??????????!? ????????????????!?” it screamed through its head and all the mouths all over its body. 
“You scared?” the man asked. 
Indeed — Gouz-Maise was afraid. All as one, the consensus of the Gouz-Maise Gang — the group of scoundrels that had taken many lives and consumed great amounts of human flesh — feared the man before them. 
“Guess it’s the first time you’ve gotten eaten, huh,” the man said. This was the man who, as if to give it payback for its sins, had consumed Gouz-Maise’s flesh and drawn ever closer to end its deathless life. 
Naturally, the amalgam of undead was afraid of the way the man functioned. 
He was truly a God of Death. 
His hands — one blood crimson, other a deathly black — held a dark flag. On his head, there were wolf-like ears. He didn’t hesitate to consume the flesh of man-eaters. If he wasn’t the reaper sent himself to end them — no one was. 
“? ? ? ? ? ? ! ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?!” 
Gouz-Maise began wildly swinging its arms down at him, but the man was able to evade it all, making it seem as though the amalgam of corpses had become pitifully sluggish. Not only that — he jumped on the left arm it swung down and began running up towards its head. 

 

Little by little, the god of death... the Grim Reaper... the ultimate end... approached Gouz-Maise. 
Overwhelmed by despair, it used its final card. 
“? ? ? ? ? ? — ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? — ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? !?!?” 
That was the third time it cast the ultimate spell. 
It didn’t care about what would happen because of that. Since the spell consumed great amounts of grudge — which was the core of Gouz-Maise’s being — there was a chance that using it thrice in such a short period of time could made itself self-destruct. However, its fear of the man running up its arm was just too great for it to hold back. 
The burst of destructive magic made the god of death and everything below the elbow completely vanish. Though Gouz-Maise’s arm was thicker than a large tree, the spell disintegrated even its bones. 
The pain signals were abnormally powerful, and due to the loss of its grudge, its Automatic Restoration didn’t work at full capacity. The grudge flowing through its corpus was reduced to just that of the one who could cast Deadly Mixer and a few others. Despite that, however, the faces covering its body and the few remaining grudges all smiled in relief. 
One leg, one arm, and approximately 80% of the grudge composing it. 
The losses were great, but they had been enough to make their bane — the reaper himself — disappear. The battle was over. Now, it simply had to wait for the Automatic Restoration to complete, head to town to stock up on new grudge and... 
“???????” All of a sudden, a shadow came over it from above its head. 
Gouz-Maise looked upwards. 
Before the sunset, bathed in the light of the sinking sun, there was the source of the shadow. 
The black silhouette held a black sword in the hand behind him. And, with great speed, he closed in towards Gouz-Maise’s head. 
“You beasts, wallowing in undeath...” a feminine voice began. 
“...go to sleep... forever!” the Reaper finished. 
The tip of the black greatsword pierced through Gouz-Maise’s forehead and touched its core. 
“VENGEANCE IS MINE!” 
Thus, a strike worth all the damage Gouz-Maise had ever given the man... no — a retributive attack avenging all the people that had suffered because of those composing the amalgam of death... 
...completely destroyed its core and ended its very existence.