Chapter Nine: The Three Armies
Quartierlatin, mountain
There were ten-odd parties pulling an all-nighter on the mountain containing the ruins.
They were all Masters on a quest to kill and collect the Prism Soldiers near Quartierlatin.
“Aaaand that’s seven. Damn, we makin’ mint here,” said a member of one such party.
“Honestly, that’s pretty freaky,” another replied. “The three of us ran into a whole seven of them. Imagine how many there are on this entire mountain! Gives me chills, man.”
One party member was a Strong Lancer, another was a Strong Bowman, and the third was a Bishop, making it a well-balanced group.
Thanks to the vigorous work of this and other parties, the Prism Soldiers in the mountain were gradually dropping in number.
“You said there’s gonna be a quest to stop the ruins, right?” one of them asked. “We taking it?”
“Damn right we are. Just think what’ll happen if these things keep pouring out. Our town’ll be gone!”
“True. They’re only about as strong as Demi-Dragons, but that’s still a bit much for tians...”
Talking about this and that, they walked around in search of more Prism Soldiers.
Instead, they stumbled upon a strange sight.
It was a space in the forest where the trees had vanished, as though pulled out of the ground by the roots.
“Hold on... What the hell’s this?” one of them exclaimed.
“The trees are just... gone?” another said, stunned.
“Did the machines dig them up?” the third asked. “Or was it some other monster?”
“No clue. Though, looking at what’s going on, we should be careful.”
The Strong Lancer and Strong Archer stood at the opposite sides of the Bishop and watched for any threats. They were now ready for attacks from any visible direction. The Bishop also prepared to use the relevant support skills.
They were cooperating well. Any proper party with a support would’ve done the same, but that was exactly what made them so easy to take advantage of.
“Phase one.”
In a split-second, a creature burst out of the softened ground below and grappled the Bishop.
“...Eh?”
The creature looked like a tree, twisted into the shape of a marionette — in fact, that was exactly what it was. It used its arboreal weight to drop the Bishop to the ground and cut his throat with the knife in its hand.
“...!” The Bishop couldn’t speak any of his skills now. The puppet took advantage by stabbing his crown, spine, and heart, quickly ending his life.
The immense damage to his body didn’t allow for a long resurrection period, so the Bishop quickly turned into particles of light.
The marionette worked absurdly fast.
“HUH?!” yelled one of his party members.
“YOU BASTARD!”
The Strong Lancer and Strong Archer finally reacted to the marionette and quickly destroyed it, but their Bishop had already gotten the death penalty.
Both sides had only a single casualty.
However, the enemy’s loss was only some strange marionette, while the heroes’ loss was the lifeline of their party.
“What the hell’s that thing?!”
“It’s not disappearing, either! Is it from the ruins, too?”
A monster that didn’t vanish upon defeat made the Strong Archer think there was a connection between it and the machines they were hunting, but his assumption was mistaken. Alas, they weren’t even given the time to realize they were wrong.
“Phase two.”
As they were wondering about the nature of the dolls, the ground to their east and west began to bulge.
Twenty marionettes burst out through the leaf and mud covers laid around. They were all armed with Assault Rifles, often used by Gunners and Dryfean machines.
As the two Masters tried to understand what was going on, the marionettes drowned them in a full-auto crossfire, turning them into swiss cheese. Unable to put up any fight, the Strong Lancer and Strong Archer both turned into light.
A few seconds later, all that was left of the battle were a few drops and twenty marionettes with guns in hand.
“Clear.” A single voice resounded within the marionettes. “That’s eighteen, now.”
That was true not only for the twenty here, but for all of the nearly-thousand marionettes swarming the mountain.
“Hm. Been a while since I last controlled a thousand. Must’ve gotten rusty. It’s only been two hours, and I already feel a bit drained.”
As that voice resounded within, the marionettes that had just killed the Masters moved through and looked around the mountain in the most optimal ways.
Yes, this was true for all the marionettes on the mountain, not just the twenty in that area. It was the result of a single person manually moving all of them at the same time.
He saw a thousand times more than a single person, processed all the marionettes’ states in real time, controlled them all simultaneously, and had them all cooperate.
They were also equipped with High-Frequency Knives or Assault Rifles, which he was having them wield the exact same way he would’ve wielded them himself.
This was a fully-functional, thousand-strong army, commanded by a single will.
Needless to say, this was an astonishing feat. Auto would’ve been one thing, but controlling such a number manually was downright inhuman.
Nevertheless, this man was capable of this. He was the current field marshal of the imperium, Gifted Barbaros.
His Superior Job, Zero General, was specialized in commanding unmanned weaponry... and he was the special soldier who had wielded the Unguided Gaze, Edelvalsa, for the past thirty years.
That Mythical special reward had been with him for as long as he could remember. He’d begun controlling these marionettes before he could even walk.
He was the imperium’s strongest soldier.
No — he was a one-man army.
“I’ll weaken their forces a little more.”
He’d been a special soldier for most of his life, and nighttime ambushes were his specialty. To ensure that he would succeed in taking Acra-Vesta, this man continued his hunt for those who’d get in his way.
Prism Rider, Ray Starling
So came the morning. It was so cloudy and dreary, it was hard to believe the skies had been clear yesterday.
“Such an unpleasant weather...” sighed Nemesis.
“Seriously,” I agreed. It felt extra bad because I hadn’t even gotten a second’s worth of sleep last night. I’d been too busy keeping watch in case Dryfe made their move while it was still dark.
The guild had tried to contact the capital to ask for reinforcements, but as it turned out, long-range magic comms were currently jammed.
“How truly irksome,” said Nemesis.
“Yep. Man, that guy...”
The culprit was most likely Dr. Mario. While we were exploring the ruins yesterday, he had been outside the whole time. He must’ve used the chance to set up jammers all over Quartierlatin, then activated them when we caused a stir by telling the guild what we found out.
Fortunately, only long-range comms were jammed. We could still communicate locally. Then again, that might’ve been the very reason why it had taken us so long to realize that long-range comms were busted.
We had no clue how many jammers there actually were, so going after them wasn’t realistic.
A high-rank AGI-focused Master was on a guild quest to send a message to the capital, but I wasn’t sure if he’d make it in time. Hell, it was entirely possible that he’d be stopped on the way.
I had a feeling that Dr. Mario was capable of that.
Remembering the way he’d evaded Azurite’s attack, I was sure it was because of his immense fighting ability, rather than just high AGI.
Azurite had said he was a special soldier — one of Dryfe’s best — and I didn’t doubt that for a second.
“Ray,” Nemesis said, “how powerful is he? What does your intuition tell you?”
“He’s a match for some top duel rankers, at least,” I answered.
To be more specific, I couldn’t imagine Chelsea or Bishmal standing a chance against him.
Sure, this wasn’t based on actual data. However, back when he’d evaded Azurite’s attack, he’d been as menacing as Shu or Figaro... both Superiors. I never would have thought I’d feel something like that from a tian.
“But man, they actually didn’t do anything last night,” I sighed. “I should’ve just gone to sleep.”
The fact they were jamming the comms made it pretty damn clear they wanted to settle this before word reached the capital and reinforcements came. They hadn’t come at night, but they would surely act within the next few hours. We’d have to protect the ruins and Quartierlatin from Dryfe while stopping the Prism Soldier factory and securing the other weapon at the same time.
Needless to say, that wasn’t going to be easy.
It would’ve been great to have someone from the Gideon gang, like Shu or Figaro, but sadly, I hadn’t been able to get in touch with Shu since last night.
Then again, even if I could call for someone, they probably wouldn’t be able to make it in time. Gideon and Quartierlatin were basically on the opposite sides of the country.
I hadn’t been able to call B3, either. She’d probably turned off her phone because she was busy with the tea ceremony and whatnot. Shame, because I could’ve used her as a proxy to tell Miss Aberration about this.
There was a Master who’d made a thread about this online and asked for help, but it was doubtful that anyone would actually come.
All in all, it was best to assume we wouldn’t get any reinforcements.
“Well, you certainly look serious,” a voice said.
“Azurite...” I murmured, looking over. I hadn’t even noticed her moving next to me.
“I brought something to keep you standing,” she said, handing me some warm tea and a sandwich.
“Thanks. These from the inn?”
“Yes. ‘Those dealing with the ruins should be well fed,’ they said.”
Well, then. Much obliged.
As Azurite handed me the food, she seemed to want to tell me something.
“Did the situation change?” I asked.
“How sharp of you... I have good news and bad news. Which do you want to hear first?”
Hey, that’s that line you often hear in Western movies, I thought. Well, Altar’s clearly Western, so I guess it fits.
“Good news first, please,” I said.
“They found a path leading deeper into the ruins. It’s through a different hole in the mountain. Many Prism Soldiers were seen leaving through there, so that has to be the factory.”
We intended to shut it down in the morning, but that couldn’t happen if we had no idea where it was. So figuring out its location was good news, indeed.
“Tom Cat and a few dozen other Masters are already on the way,” she added.
“Then there’s nothing to worry about,” I said. Just like yesterday, Tom would easily break through the security and reach the deeper parts of the ruins. “And the bad news?”
“Nearly thirty Masters who were cleaning up the Prism Soldiers in the mountains were killed.”
I paused. “Dryfe’s doing, I assume?”
“Yes. According to a tian who was with them, they were attacked by marionettes wielding knives and guns.”
That reminded me of Veldorbell’s words. He’d mentioned that Dryfe had a tian who used a marionette special reward.
It would make sense for Dr. Mario to be that person. He was a special soldier, after all. And a really intimidating one, at that. I felt there was something more there, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.
“So, how many people stayed on the surface?” I asked.
“There are 200 Quartierlatin knights, but our Master count doesn’t even go above 50, even when you include the low-rank jobs. Apart from that, there are about 40-50 tians who’ve come to explore the ruins.”
“So not even 300 in total, huh?”
That number might’ve been decent in some cases, but our enemy was someone who could deal with 30 Masters all by himself. Not to mention that they could always bring someone like Franklin. Things would be pretty bad if they did.
Not that I don’t have anything to counter someone like that, I reflected.
I silently looked at my hands, and the Miasmaflame Bracers, Gardranda. Then I shifted my gaze down to the Grudge-Soaked Greaves, Gouz-Maise.
The townspeople had heard out about the danger of the ruins, flooding the town with negativity for my greaves to absorb, and it was bound to get worse if Dryfe attacked. The stage was being set for me to use the new ace up my sleeve.
“The skill has three conditions... okay?” I recalled what Gardranda had told me while I was out cold. “You’ve already cleared one... but there are two more. The one for after you use it is especially... troubling.”
She hadn’t been joking about that last part.
After using the skill, I’d be given one of three demerits, each with an equal chance of happening, and if I was unlucky, I’d end up with the death penalty... or worse.
I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about that.
However, if I found myself in a situation where I had no other option...
“Ray?” Azurite cut short my train of thought.
“What’s wrong? What are you brooding over?” asked Nemesis.
...Hm?
“Hold on... you couldn’t read my thoughts?” I asked her.
“Mm-hm,” she nodded. “I’m unsure why, but I couldn’t. Were you thinking something indecent?”
“Nope.”
Did Gardranda do something to hide it from her? I wondered. Guess I’d need to faint to find out, but I’m not going to start bashing my head against the wall.
“Anyway, I get that we have a bit under 300 people on defense, but what about the positioning?” I inquired.
Azurite began explaining our defensive set-up. “Well, for now, we...”
Before she could finish, her comms device began to release static.
That thing was from the adventurers’ guild, so the person on the other end had to be someone from there.
“I’m listening. What happened?” Azurite asked the item.
“Lady Azurite! We have news from the ruins!” a voice from the item cried. I recognized the voice; it was a guild worker I’d met yesterday. He seemed to be in a panic. “There’s an unprecedented number of Prism Soldiers trying to escape the ruins! There are over a thousand of them!”
My jaw dropped.
That was shocking news.
Thirty minutes ago, ???
[This is a directive from Zircon Leader]
Call Devil Regiment: 6,000 points
Summons 100 Soldier Devils that last 30 minutes.
Soldier Devils were low-rank monsters with 100 for each stat except HP and LUC, which were 300 and 10, respectively. Needless to say, they were extremely weak.
Since the skill needed five Demi-Dragon sacrifices to be used, the payoff definitely wasn’t worth it. The devil quantity did little to make up for it. The skill’s cost-performance was simply awful.
Unless you were Logan.
“Let’s make those 2,000,” he said as he traced his finger on the number 1,250 on his job skill window, making it become 12,500.
Then he did the same for the skill description for Call Devil Regiment.
Call Devil Regiment: 6,000 points
Summons 1,000 Soldier Devils that last 300 minutes.
Then he traced the Soldier Devil description, multiplying all their stats except LUC by ten.
“‘Remove the lid of hell and gather, my forces,’” he intoned. “Call Devil Regiment.”
At once, darkness emerged from the ground beneath. It bubbled as if boiling, and each bubble burst to produce a devil. This continued until there were 1,000 of them.
He then used the skill again, doubling that number.
These devils were not the weak imps originally described, but true, vicious devils boasting Demi-Dragon-tier stats. And there were 2,000 of them. He’d sacrificed a single Demi-Dragon to create 2,000 devils of the same tier.
The input didn’t match the output in the least — the equation was far too absurd.
This was the reason why he was nicknamed “Contradictory Equation.” It was the power of his Superior Embryo, who was a Type: Another Rule “False Finesse, Rumpelstiltskin.”
Its constantly-active ultimate skill, “Straw-into-Gold — Rumpelstiltskin,” let him multiply up to ten numerical values on his job skill descriptions by ten.
It was broken even among Superior Embryos, most of which were infamous for being broken. This skill was at odds with the very concept of game balance.
“With the budget they gave me, I could’ve easily created ten times more than this... but that won’t be necessary,” he grinned, as he overlooked his horde of devils.
They looked almost as if they were pledging allegiance to him.
Of course, that wasn’t the case — Infinite Dendrogram’s summoned devils lacked sufficient intelligence to have a concept of loyalty. In fact, they weren’t even living beings — they were just lumps of devil flesh, temporarily put together by a skill.
They were somewhat like the monsters used by Summoners, but they had no medium, so they were always throwaways.
Their loyalty, skills, stats — everything was already within them the moment the creator spoke the skill. In a way, they were “instant devils.”
It was part of the reason why preparing a large amount of high-spec devils was difficult, but again, Logan Goddhart was an exception.
His Superior Embryo made his Hell General skills so much more powerful that it was almost maddening.
“Now, let’s begin,” the Dryfean Superior sneered, and made his devils march.
Thus, the three armies were gathered.
Three thousand machines.
A thousand marionettes.
And two thousand devils.
As Ray’s third day in Quartierlatin began to dawn, the town began to be menaced by three immense hordes.
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