Under the identity of Emperor Vector, Gabriel Miller, dominating the Throne Room, surveyed the artificial Fluctlights prostrated on the ground with a hint of awe.
They were all photon information sealed in Light Cubes with each edge two inches long. Even so, in this world, they were true humans with intellect and souls. As expected, however, out of the ten in a line at the very front, half of them were strange-looking monsters.
The ten generals who were called «Feudal Lords» and the Knights and Sorcerers who trailed behind them, and the garrisoned army of 50,000 outside the city, were all [Units] given to Gabriel. From now on, he must appropriately utilize these pawns to annihilate the defenses of the Human World and capture «Alice».
But, unlike real-time strategy games in the real world, these Units were not freely controllable with a mouse and keyboard. They must be led and ordered with presence and spoken word.
Gabriel rose wordlessly from the throne, took a few steps forward, and turned to look into a mirror hung on the wall.
What reflected was himself, wearing a look that was in slightly bad taste.
Only the shape of his face and his extremely light brown hair were the same as Gabriel’s look in the real world. But, a black metal crown encrusted with a crimson crystal rested on his head; on top of a black suede undershirt and pants, he wore a luxurious midnight fur gown. A rapier gleaming with a dreamy phosphorescence hung from his waist, and his boots and gloves were weaved with silver embroidery. On his back, he wore a blood red long cape.
Turning his eyes to the right, a step below the throne, he saw a Knight with both hands behind his head, frantically looking around.
Inside a suit of armor gleaming deep purple like a gemstone was Vassago Cazares, who had logged in at the same time as Gabriel. Although he had already been told not to speak without restraint before the situation is in control , he still resisted expressing his impress with slangs with a difficult expression, clanking around in his shoes.
Gabriel shook his head slightly, and pulled his eyes back to himself in the mirror.
He was used to tailor-made suits, so this attire felt very uncomfortable anyway. But, in this «Underworld», Gabriel was not the CTO of a private military company.
He was the emperor who ruled the boundless Dark Territory.
Also — he was a god.
Gabriel closed his eyes, took a slow, deep breath, and exhaled.
Somewhere in his consciousness, the role he was playing as switched from the [Tough Commander] to a [Merciless Emperor] with a click.
Opening his eyes again, as he turned, tossing back his crimson cape, Gabriel — Vector, the God of Darkness, glared at the ten Generals and said with an absolutely inhuman tone that resounded in the Throne Room:
“Lift your heads and report your names. —You go first.”
The kneeling middle-aged man at the left of the frontmost line jerked up with an unexpectedly quick motion and reported his name in fluent Japanese.
“Y, y-yes, Your Majesty! I am Lengil Gira Scobo, head of the Commerce and Industry Guild!”
Besides the man who lowered his head and prostrated again, an enormous figure as large as a small mountain began to move.
On the body of a Demihuman that stood nearly 12 feet tall, glossy black chains were hung in a cross, with the skins of some wild beast wrapped around its waist. Vigorously raising its face along with its weirdly long nose, the Demihuman introduced itself with a deep voice, so low that it sounded like the ground was shaking:
“Elder of the Giants, Sigrosig.”
While Gabriel was having difficulty in swallowing the fact that this monster had intelligence and a soul, the third man let out an annoying, hoarse sound:
“…Leader of the Assassin Guild… Fer Za…”
When compared to the Giant, the figure in hooded robe was so skinny that it seemed insubstantial; its age cannot be determined, let alone its gender.
Although Gabriel wanted for a split second to order it to raise its head so he could see its face, he considered that Assassins must have some rule that forbid them to expose their appearances, so he put that aside and turned towards the next general.
Then, with great effort, he managed to hold back a frown.
The existence that was the absolute embodiment of “ugly” sat motionlessly in front of him. It was unable to kneel as its legs were too short. A chubby, rotund stomach filled with fat gave off an oily luster; on a neck that was combined with shoulders dangled skulls of small animals.
The head on top looked 70% pig and 30% human. With a protruding, flat nose, and a mouth with visible teeth, only its small, beady eyes flashed with human intellect, making this even more disturbing.
“Elder of the Orcs, Rilpirin.”
Hearing this high and sharp voice, Gabriel immediately wondered whether it was male or female, but instantly abandoned this thought. Since it was an Orc, it would definitely be a low-level Unit in the army. Just something disposable.
Then, what could be described as a boy raised his head and energetically saluted. His reddish golden hair was curled, and he wore only a leather belt on his sun-tanned copper-colored upper body. Putting skintight leather pants and sandals on the lower body, and both hands clad in punching gloves decorated with metallic square nails.
“Tenth Generation Champion of the Fighter’s Guild, Iskhan!!”
Gabriel looked at the youngster who shouted full of energy, and thought for a moment. A fist fighter is a boxer, isn’t he? A soldier for empty-handed combat?
As he was thinking, there suddenly came the “grrrh” moan of a beast.
The one who suddenly raised its head was a Demihuman who was not as tall and muscular as a giant, but possessed a body far from that of a human. Its upper body was nearly completely covered with long hairs. Judging by its completely beast-like head, those hairs weren’t clothing, but its own fur.
It looked a lot like a wolf. A protruding snout, saw-like teeth, and triangular ears. An incoherent noise leaked from its mouth, from which hung a long tongue:
“Gurr… Elder… of the Ogres… Furgur…. Rrr…”
Although Gabriel didn’t know whether that was a name or mere mumbling, he nodded lightly and looked towards the next position.
Just then came an earsplitting shrill squeak:
“I am Hagasi, Elder of the Mountain Goblins! Your Majesty, please grant our brave race the honorable position of the vanguard!!”
The owner of the voice was a short Demihuman with a monkey-like bald head with two thin, long, protruding ears. No matter if it was by height or muscle mass, it was far, far off from the Giant, Orc, Ogre, or even Human who had previously reported their names.
According to the explanation that Critter had provided before they Dived in, in this Dark Territory, there was only one rule. That was, [power dominates all]. If so, what power did the Goblins have in order to be promoted to a position comparable to other races while they seemed weak no matter how he looked at it?
No matter what, although it was the lowest-level Unit, lower even than Orcs, Gabriel looked at the Mountain Goblin’s face with slight interest, and nodded lightly to himself as a sign of successfully answering his own question: it was because of the extreme, intense lust swirling in the Mountain Goblin’s small eyes.
Just as the Elder of the Mountain Goblin finished his sentence, the Demihuman besides him who differed only in skin color shrieked in the same way:
“That’s ridiculous! Compared to those guys, we’ll serve Your Majesty ten times more effectively! I am the Elder of the Plains Goblins, Kuberi!”
“What the hell are you saying, you slug-eater? Has your brain swelled up because of the wet mud!?”
“You’re the one who dried up your noodles in the sun!!”
In front of the two cursing shrilly at each other—
Pachi! Blue sparks flew forth as the Goblin leaders jumped out of the way, shrieking.
“—-You two are in the presence of His Majesty the Emperor!”
With a flirtatious voice, a young female wrapped in clothing that exposed much of her skin retracted her raised right hand. The sparks faded away as soon as she rubbed her thumb on her index finger, as though igniting a lighter flame.
She slowly stood up, bowed as though she was flaunting her full body and coquettish looks and saluted exaggeratedly. To Gabriel’s right, Vassago whistled softly, as if he couldn’t help it.
Her mocha-colored skin gleamed as if it had been brushed with oil; her chest and waist were covered only with enamel leather. Her boots were needle-like high-heeled boots. On her back hung a fur mantle shining black and silver. Long platinum blonde hair hung below her waist.
Her eye-shadow and lipstick were the color of water; seductively narrowing her light blue eyes brighter than her makeup, the woman reported her name:
“Leader of the Dark Sorcerer Guild, D.I.L. I have 3,000 Sorcerers under my command, and my body and soul all belong to Your Majesty.”
To these flirtatious movements and tempting voice, Gabriel, who had never been controlled by sexual desire, merely nodded.
The Witch called D blinked a few times, as though she wanted to say something else, but only saluted and kneeled again.
A wise decision, Gabriel thought, and turned his eyes onto the last general Unit.
The silently genuflecting figure here was a Human, but a middle-aged man of surprising size.
His full-body black armor had innumerable scratches on it, but still shone with a blurred glow. On the bowed face, there were visible light scars on his forehead and the bridge of his nose as well.
Without lifting his face up, a slightly rough baritone came out of the bowed man’s mouth.
“Dark Knight Commander Biksul Ul Shasta. Before devoting my sword… I wish to ask Your Majesty.”
The face that suddenly rose shared the same serious qualities as the few [real soldiers] that Gabriel had seen.
Especially, behind those sharp eyes, there was a certain kind of determination that was completely missing from the other nine generals. The Knight called Shasta stared at Gabriel with a gaze that looked almost piercing, and continued in a low voice:
“What, is Your Majesty looking forward to, returning to the Throne at this moment?”
As expected — These men are not simple programs.
I must remind myself of this constantly, Gabriel thought, and with the mask of a [Merciless Emperor], produced an ice-cold response:
“Blood and terror. Flames and destruction. Death and screaming.”
?
Gabriel’s hard voice that resembled sliced metal resounded in the hall; the expressions of all ten generals tightened immediately.
Looking one by one at the ten faces, Gabriel flipped his robe, raised his right hand and pointed at the western sky.
From within his mouth, lines filled with false desire for conquest automatically erupted:
“…Of the western land loaded with the powers of the gods who exiled me from the heavens, the protective «Great Gate» will now fall. I have returned… To proclaim my power to all!”
From Critter, he had learned the most he could about the «Final Load Test» that was about to commence after a week in internal time. Gabriel added the information to his tirade, continuing in a dramatic tone:
“When the Gate falls, the Human World shall fall into the hands of my subjects, the People of Darkness! All I desire is the «Holy Maiden» that shall appear in that land by then! I shall grant you all the right to do with all other Humans as you wish! The promised time that all People of Darkness awaited — has arrived!!”
The air that had become silent once again—
Was shattered by shrill, savage screams.
“Giiii!! Kiilll!! Kill those white Iiiuuums!!”
The one stamping its feet and screaming was the Orc leader, its eyes rolling with anger and desire. Immediately, two Goblins raised their arms and followed suit.
“Hooooou!! War!! War!!”
“Urra——!! War, war——!!”
The battle cry instantly spread to other generals and the officers behind them. The black robes among the Assassin Guild billowed along with bodies as thin as twigs; the Witches among the Dark Sorcerer Guild released colorful sparks with flirtatious shrieks.
In the entire wide hall that was filled with primal howls—
Gabriel noticed that only the Knight called Shasta maintained his kneeling position, without a sliver of movement.
Was it due to a soldier’s self-control, or was it due to certain inner thoughts? It was indiscernible from the statue-like armor.
***
“I didn’t expect bro to have that kind of talent! Ain’t it better for you to become an actor?!”
Gabriel snorted at Vassago’s wretched grin, who threw a bottle of wine to Gabriel.
“Only when necessary. It’d be better for you to remember the speaking techniques just now. Since your rank is higher than theirs.”
He popped the cork of the bottle with his finger; holding some of the ruby-colored liquid in his mouth, he wondered whether he should drink during a mission.
Vassago crudely drank the vintage wine as though it was beer; he belched and replied as he wiped his mouth:
“Compared with orders or playing the part or whatever, I just wanna kill on the front line. You don’t Dive into this powerful VR everyday… This wine, this bottle, everything looks real to me.”
“Comparatively, it’s going to hurt and bleed if you’re cut. The Pain Absorber doesn’t work in here.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
Vassago smirked and shrugged. Gabriel set his bottle down on the table and stood up from the sofa.
The top floor of Obsidia was the Emperor’s private room. It was not inferior at all compared to the lavish decor in the office of GlowGen DS headquarters, and in addition, the faraway night scenery was visible from an enormous window. Although not as bright and colorful as that of San Diego, it had a different, fantasy look.
The ten generals with the statuses of Feudal Lords left the castle to prepare for battle, and torchlights danced non-stop, belonging to the porters moving resources from the storage rooms.
The Head of the Commerce and Industry Guild, who had the role of replenishing supplies, had been ordered to deplete all stored stocks of food and equipment in the city, so the soldiers should not suffer from cold or hunger.
Turning his eyes away from the countless lights, Gabriel walked to a corner of the room, touching the purple crystal plate that was set there — a system console.
He rapidly manipulated the menu and pressed the button to call an external observer. The time acceleration ratio decreased, and with a strange feeling of going back to 1:1, he heard Critter’s quick-mouthed voice:
“Captain?! I literally just came back to the control room after watching you Dive in!!”
“It’s already the first night here. Although I understand it, time acceleration is quite fascinating. Anyway, everything is proceeding as planned. The preparation of the Units will be finished in one or two days, and in two days, an attack against the Human Empire is planned.”
“Great. Remember, after securing «Alice», please bring her there and use the menu to eject her into the Main Control Room, then «Alice»’s Light Cube will be ours. Also, please tell that idiot Vassago what I said.”
As though he had heard Critter, Vassago’s short curse came from behind.
“I can’t operate with administrator privileges right now, so reconfiguring account data is impossible. In other words, Captain, if you or Vassago [die] in that world, you can no longer use that super account. You’ll only be able to start over with a small soldier!”
“Yeah… I know. I won’t go to the front lines for now. Any movement from the JSDF?”
“None right now. It seems like they haven’t noticed you guys Diving in yet.”
“Good. Then, I’ll cut the connection now. The next time I contact you, it’ll be when we’re preparing to leave after securing Alice.”
“Understood, good luck.”
He closed the communication window, and with a slight sense of incongruity, the world returned to the accelerated ratio.
Vassago was still aside, muttering and cursing while wrestling with a buckle on his armor, and finally threw off all of his outerwear; he stood up in just a leather shirt and pants.
“Hey, bro. Why not go have some fun in the city… We can’t, can we?”
“Just resist the temptation for now. After getting the target, I’ll give you a night.”
“Understood. So, no killing no women for today… Then I’ll head off to bed like a good boy. The room over there is mine.”
His joints creaking as he stretched, Vassago disappeared into a neighboring bedroom, and Gabriel took off his crown, exhaling.
He put his gown and robe on the sofa, and threw his sword on top.
In VR games he had played before, the equipment he took off would return to the item storage, but it seems like there were no such conveniences in this world. After a month of living in this room, it would become extremely messy, but he would be leaving the castle the day after tomorrow, and the next time he came back it would be time to log out.
As he unbuttoned his shirt and opened the door across from Vassago’s room, Gabriel’s eyes narrowed in surprise.
In the frighteningly large bedroom, besides the colossal luxury bed — there was a small silhouette, kneeled on the ground.
He should have already ordered everyone, including the servants, not to enter the floor above the Throne Room. There was actually someone who would defy the order of a god; what on earth was this?
For a split-second he wanted to go back and get his sword, but Gabriel entered the bedroom anyway, and closed the door.
“…Who is it?”
He called shortly.
The answer was a slightly hoarse voice.
“…Please allow me to serve as your sleeping partner [3] tonight.”
“Huh?”
Furrowing his brow in surprise, Gabriel slowly walked to the bed in the dark bedroom.
The one with both hands on the ground actually was a young woman in thin clothes. Her ash-blue hair was tied high with a decorative ribbon. From the slightly visible lines, he could not see signs of any weapons.
He sat down on the vibrantly colored silk sheets and inquired:
“Whose order was this?”
After a slight pause, the woman replied in a thin voice:
“Nobody… This is only my duty.”
“Is that so?”
Gabriel turned away his eyes and fell back in the center of the bed.
Seconds later, the woman straightened her upper body and glided onto his right side without a sound.
“Please excuse me…”
Even Gabriel could not help but marvel at the beauty of the exotic-looking lady whispering to him. Her skin tone was slightly dark, but the area around her cheekbones revealed a noble temperament of someone from somewhere in Northern Europe.
Watching the woman softly undo her thin clothing and prepare to loosen her decorative hair tie, Gabriel experienced a certain moving.
Would an artificial Fluctlight actually do something like this?
Even this lady is still not an incomplete AI? If so, to what extent of completion would the finished Alice have achieved?
What moved Gabriel, were not the actions of the woman devoting her body.
It was not like that—
She quickly pulled a small, sharp knife out of her hair and raised it high as Gabriel predicted.
Gabriel grabbed the woman’s hand with ease and his other hand flashed, snatching the woman’s throat and pushing her down onto the bed.
“Kuh…!!”
The woman clenched her teeth tightly and fought back with all her might, attempting to thrust the small knife. Her wrist strength was greater than expected, but not enough to make Gabriel nervous. He twisted the woman’s arm all the way back, and lightly pressed his thumb into her windpipe, restricting her movements.
Although the woman’s face contorted in excruciating pain, the determination flashing in her gray eyes did not weaken in the slightest. From her fierce expression just now, her incomplete makeup and toned body, she was definitely not a professional Assassin. This meant the one with rebellious thoughts was not the leader of the Assassins, Fer Za, but one of the other nine generals — most likely within the Human generals.
Edging his face slightly closer, Gabriel repeated the same question he had asked before.
“Whose order is this?”
She replied with the same tone.
“It is my own… will.”
“Then, to whom do you report?”
“…Nobody.”
“Hmph.”
Gabriel thought as a machine without any sliver of emotion.
«RATH» wanted to break the boundaries of an artificial Fluctlight, which was their nature to be unable to disobey all rules, laws, and orders from people of a higher priority.
Compared to the Human World Fluctlights bound by countless laws, the inhabitants of the Dark Territory seemed able to live more freely, but their nature had not changed. It was only because there was but one rule for the Fluctlights here that they felt free on the surface.
That rule was [power dominates all]. This was a dog-eat-dog world in which people with higher power could dominate those under them. If RATH’s experiment proceeded as they had planned, the orderly Human World and the chaotic Land of Darkness would clash violently even without Gabriel’s intervention, and would end in a breakthrough by war.
But he did not know why, before the plan had proceeded into that stage, there came a Fluctlight in the Human World that had exceeded the boundaries. The spy within RATH had not sent any information regarding a similar existence in the Land of Darkness.
In other words, this woman who had plotted to kill the Emperor with a small knife was also a soul bound by absolute law. Even so, from the situation that even under Gabriel’s questioning just now, no, under his order, she did not divulge the identity of her master. It proves that this woman, even under the order of Gabriel, an Emperor who was also a god, she prioritized her loyalty to her master. That is, she thought her master [stronger] than the Emperor.
In that case, to ensure that the battle goes smoothly, it was necessary to properly display his strength to the general and officer Units, to show them that Gabriel — Emperor Vector was the strongest in this world. But, he couldn’t completely destroy the valuable general Units. What should he do—
No.
He had to dispose of one of the generals anyway. A certain person who put the murderous spirit in this woman.
How should he single out the traitor? Should he contact Critter again, to have him supervise the general Units from outside? No, that would require adjusting the time acceleration ratio back to 1:1, and would waste precious time in the real world.
Then—
Considering this matter in an instant, Gabriel scrutinized the woman’s iron-colored eyes again.
“What is your reason for killing me? Were you offered money? Or status?”
He did not need to think about his questions. But the answer he immediately heard was unexpected.
“For righteousness!”
“Oh…?”
“If you wage war now, the world will fall back a hundred years, no, two hundred years! I cannot let you return the era to when the weak were trampled upon!!”
Again, Gabriel felt a sliver of shock.
Was this woman really in the stage before her boundaries were broken? If so, did her master make her say these lines?
Gabriel brought his head closer, gazing straight into those gray eyes.
?
Determination. Loyalty. The feeling deep within was…
Ah, so it’s like that.
If that was the case, then there was no more need for this woman. To be precise, there was no more need for this woman’s Fluctlight.
Gabriel complied with his own decision, and without another word, applied force to his left hand, which grasped the woman’s throat.
He felt bones being crushed. The woman’s eyes widened, and her mouth let out a silent scream.
Tightly restraining her struggling limbs, mercilessly tightening his grip around her neck, Gabriel felt a surprise unlike what he felt before.
Was this really a virtual world? No matter if it was the feeling of muscle and bone breaking that was felt by his left hand, or the frightening, painful smell that came from the bare skin, they all stimulated Gabriel’s five senses much more realistically than the real world.
His body trembled unconsciously, and his left hand reflexively closed.
With a muffled crunch, the cervical vertebrae of the unnamed woman were crushed.
Then, Gabriel saw it.
From the forehead of the woman with eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched — floated a prismatic glow.
This, definitely was it — the Soul Cloud once he had seen when he took away Alicia’s life.
In an instant, Gabriel opened his mouth wide, and sucked in every trace of the woman’s soul.
The bitterness of fear, pain.
The sourness of regret and melancholy.
Following these, Gabriel’s tongue was soaked in the heavenly sweet nectar that could not be described with words.
Behind his closed eyelids, a hazy scene was shining.
Small children were playing in the front yard of an old two-story home. There were Humans, Goblins, and Ogres. As they looked over, bright smiles appeared on their faces, and they came running, arms wide open.
That vision vanished, and was replaced with a certain topless man. A wide, thoroughly exercised chest, tenderly, powerfully embracing her.
“I…love you… Your Excellency…”
A tiny voice came, reverberated, and faded away.
After all had disappeared, Gabriel still tightly hugged the woman’s body.
Beautiful. How beautiful of an experience.
Gabriel’s consciousness was largely shaken in ecstasy, but shards of logic attempted to find out the reason for this phenomenon.
The Light Cube that held this deceased woman’s Fluctlight was connected with Gabriel’s Fluctlight through the STL. Therefore, after her Life, or Hit Points became zero, fragments of her released quantum data could abnormally flow to Gabriel through the network.
But, that kind of theory already mattered nothing to Gabriel.
He experienced once more the [phenomenon] that he had been chasing for his entire life. Gabriel extracted and tasted all traces of the woman’s last emotion — [love]. That was like a drop of nectar falling into a stark desert.
More.
More.
More slaughter.
Gabriel’s body threw back in a wide arc, and he let out a wordless guffaw.
***
Ordering the ten generals and the core members of each legion to line up neatly again, Gabriel watched them with a satisfied look as they respectfully bowed down.
Under his orders, they had completed preparations for the attack in two days. By the looks of it, maybe these Units were even more excellent than the fellows sitting on the floor of directors in GlowGen DS.
Really, they should just be classified as [finished products]. The perfect ability to carry out orders, with added loyalty. As AIs piloting robots in war, what else would you need on top of that?
Even so, it should not be forgotten that their loyalty was based on the bug lying in artificial Fluctlights that RATH had been eagerly trying to get rid of. It was only because the general principle [power dominates all] was carved into their souls that these ten people would obey the Emperor, Gabriel — no, Vector. But at the same time, it could also mean that as soon as Gabriel’s power was suspected, anyone could rebel at any moment.
This suspicion had already come true.
In the night two days ago, a female assassin sneaked into his bedroom.
That woman planned to kill the Emperor, who had the highest authority. In her heart, there was a master with a status higher than Gabriel. Someone she called [Your Excellency] at her last moments. And that person, almost for certain, was one of the ten generals in sight.
To her, against Emperor Vector, her own master was the mightier one. Then, the likelihood of the so-called “Your Excellency” not declaring his absolute loyalty to Gabriel was very high. If he took a Unit like this to battle, there would also be the likelihood of being betrayed.
Therefore, the last task before they went to battle was to single out and dispose of [Your Excellency] from the ten people before him.
At the same time, he could demonstrate the power of the Emperor to the remaining nine, forever carving the identity of the strongest into their Fluctlights.
At this time, Gabriel Miller did not consider at all the probability of any of the ten Units before him catching him off guard — in other words, defeating him in a one-on-one fight. To him, the Underworld was no more than an extension of VR games, and was still under the set impression that all Units here were [NPCs].
***
Dark Knight Commander Biksul Ul Shasta maintained his genuflected position, recalling his mentor’s words from twenty years ago, in the Dark Knight headquarters training field.
“…My mentor’s mentor’s head was taken off and he died instantly. My mentor was then cut in the chest and died on the way back to the castle. But even though I lost an arm, I’m alive today. Well, that’s nothing to be proud of, though.”
His mentor said this, sitting on the glossy black floor with his legs folded under his torso [4] , as he showed his right arm stump sharply severed on the elbow to Shasta. The wound that was only bound with medicine and gauze seemed painful just by looking at it.
The one who had gave him this injury about three days ago, was the eternal enemy of the Dark Knights, or the most powerful swordsman in the world, or the most ferocious monster — Integrity Knight Bercouli Synthesis One.
“Do you know what this means, Biksul?”
Twenty-year-old Biksul could only scratch his head in confusion. His mentor slid a hand under his clothes, closed his eyes, and continued softly:
“We’re catching up, gradually.”
“Catching up — to that person?”
Young Shasta could not help mixing disbelief into his voice. Just three days ago, Bercouli had demonstrated his crushing swordsmanship. In the instant that his mentor’s arm flew high, spurting blood, the piercing feeling that chilled him to the bone like a pillar of ice still lingered today.
“I’ll be 50 this year. Even so, I still don’t feel like I’m holding my sword in the best way, let alone swinging. I think, in five years to ten years’ time, that won’t change even after I die.”
His mentor said quietly.
“…That way, we short-lived people are unable to achieve what that immortal living for more than 200 years can do. Although it’s pretty embarrassing, even in the instant that our swords cross, I still kept it in mind. But after fleeing following a miserable defeat, I realized that this is wrong. All this time, my mentor and all the Knights in the past have endlessly challenged that man, but it wasn’t all in vain… Biksul, what is the strongest swordsmanship?”
To this sudden question, Biksul answered reflexively:
“A «Slash of Thoughtlessness».”
“Very good. Through long years of training, you unify with your sword. One strike that you don’t think of how to cut, draw, or move would be the ultimate swordsmanship. My mentor taught me this, and I have taught you the same. But… Biksul, that’s not it. There’s something stronger. I’ve realized it since I’ve been cut by that monster.”
A hint of excitement floated onto his mentor’s aged, wrinkled face. Shasta maintained his leg-folded seating position, leaned forward, and asked:
“Something stronger… That is?”
“The opposite of thoughtlessness. Firm confidence. It’s the power of will, Biksul.”
Suddenly, his mentor stood up from the wooden floor, and waved his right arm stump vigorously.
“You see. Back then, I sliced down with a right diagonal slash. It was exactly a thoughtless attack; the fastest I have ever swung my sword in my life. At that moment when I drew my sword, I already had the advantage.”
“Yes… I thought so as well.”
“But… But. Normally, my sword should’ve bounced off his defense, but he pressed my sword back, and this arm was sliced off… Can you believe it, Biksul; in that moment, his sword didn’t even touch mine!”
Shasta kept silent, and shook his head dubiously.
“H… How could this…”
“It’s the truth. It was like… the very path of the sword, was completely altered by some unseen force. It’s not a spell, nor is it the Armament Full Control Art. We can only explain it like this: my Slash of Thoughtlessness was defeated by his willpower built up with two hundred years of hard training. Because he pictured where he wanted my sword to go so intensely, it became the unchanging truth!”
Shasta was unable to immediately believe his mentor’s words.
The power of will: something amorphous like that can defeat a real, heavy, rigid sword; no matter what, that can’t be real.
It looked like that Shasta’s mentor expected this reaction. Suddenly regaining the formality in his sitting position, on the glossy black floor, he calmly ordered:
“Okay, Biksul. I’ll teach you my last sword technique. — Cut me.”
“What… What are you saying! It’s difficult for you to…”
Have lived so long; Shasta could only swallow these words. Suddenly, his mentor’s eyes flashed with a strong light.
“Since I managed to live on, there is even more necessity for you to cut me. Since I’ve been defeated by that man in one stroke, I’m no longer the strongest in your heart. As long as I live, you’re unable to battle that man on equal footing. Cut, no, kill me, and stand at the same height as him… Bercouli!!”
His mentor finished and stood, holding his right arm stump as though he was gripping a sword.
“Now, stand up! Draw your sword, Biksul!!”
Biksul cut his mentor, and ended his life.
At the same time, he realized with his body the meaning of his mentor’s words.
The invisible sword that his mentor’s severed right hand held — the sword called [will], let out intense sparks as it crossed with Shasta’s sword, and marked an eternal wound on his face.
His face stained with tears and blood, the young Shasta stood at the zenith that exceeded the «Slash of Thoughtlessness» — on the border of the «Slash of Incarnation».
Time passed — Five years ago.
Shasta finally challenged the archenemy of the Dark Knights, Integrity Knight Commander Bercouli. He was but 37 years old, but he felt that his sword had achieved the highest.
His mentor had exchanged an arm for his life, but Shasta had no intention of returning defeated. Because Shasta had no apprentice as his successor. He did not want his young apprentice to have the executioner’s burden, and bear the destiny of having his life sliced away. He decided to put his life on the line, and sever the blood-stained cycle there and then.
The sword called [will] that carried with it all determination and realization, during its first cross with Bercouli’s, was not deflected at all. But in that instant, Shasta already predicted his own loss. He did not think that he could reproduce a slash of such power.
But, as they crossed swords, Bercouli laughed roughly:
“Your swordsmanship isn’t bad. If you only have murderous intent, you will be unable to block my sword. Go back and think long and hard about the meaning behind my words, and return after five years, little boy.”
Then the Integrity Knight Commander turned and left. But Shasta didn’t know why he was unable to swing his sword towards the Knight’s back, which looked full of openings.
To understand the meaning behind Bercouli’s words, it took a very long time. But he finally understood what happened now, five years later. Then, if Shasta had swung his sword only with hatred and the intent to kill, he would have immediately been defeated. Although it was only one round, he was able to clash with him because he held a realization much heavier than murderous intent.
That was — gratitude to the mentors who put their life on the line to pass on their knowledge, and a prayer for the young one who will become his successor.
Therefore, after receiving news of the Highest Minister’s death, Shasta immediately decided to negotiate for peace. He was confident that, if the other party was Bercouli, he would definitely accept.
For the same reason—
This Emperor Vector, who suddenly descended on Obsidia and decided to wage war without saying anything else, must be cut to death by Shasta himself.
Even as he kneeled and bowed his head, Shasta was shaping out the [Incarnation] that he must load his killing Slash with.
This Emperor that left the Dark World for hundreds of years and suddenly revived was a young man with white skin and golden hair, similar to that of a Human World resident. His figure and looks were not necessarily charismatic.
But, only his extraordinarily blue eyes revealed that the Emperor was not an ordinary man. Within those eyes was a [void]. A bottomless abyss sucking in all light. This man concealed a colossal and evil hunger.
If his exercised Power of Incarnation was engulfed by the Emperor’s void, the blade would be unable to reach him.
If that happened, Dark Knight Shasta would lose his life. But, his will would likely be succeeded by someone after him.
His only regret was that he was unable to convey his determination as he did not see Lipia yesterday. She might be busy with preparation before the attack, or staying in her important [home].
If he told her his intent to slay the Emperor, she would definitely not listen and beg to join him. It was better this way.
Shasta slowly inhaled, building up.
With his hand, he quietly touched the sword that was released from his belt and placed on the floor.
He was about 15 Mel from the throne. He only had to take two steps to reach it.
He must not let anyone notice. He must be thoughtless in drawing his sword.
Purifying and contracting his Power of Incarnation to the limit, he injected it into his sword through his fingers. Then, he emptied his body.
His left hand gripped the sword—
Just then.
The Emperor spoke nonchalantly with a sound as smooth and rigid as glass:
“Just — last night, someone infiltrated my bedroom. With a short knife concealed in their hair.”
A suppressed gasp wavered the air in the hall.
In the line of the other nine Feudal Lords to Shasta’s left, someone softly held their breath, another let out a low moan from the depths of their throat, and another shrank back into their thick robes. A few among the officers in the back made sounds as well.
Shasta was equally shocked. Maintaining his stance and style before slicing, he thought for an instant.
Besides himself, there were others who came to the conclusion of eliminating the Emperor. Unfortunately, the fact that the Emperor was still alive showed that they had failed — but which of the nine people sent out the assassin?
Not the five Demihuman generals. Passing over the Giant, Ogre, and Orc, even the shorter Goblins were unlikely to have dodged the eyes and ears of the guards and infiltrated the top floor.
If he considered the four Human generals, he could first exclude the young leader of the Fighters, Iskahn, and the leader of the Commerce and Industry Guild, Lengil. Iskahn was just a straightforward boy who purely aimed at improving his empty-handed combat to the maximum, and Lengil would love to make a lot of money out of the war.
Since the attacker had infiltrated the bedroom, the leader of the Assassin Guild, Fer Za, was the most suspicious, and he actually had a few hints for what that man was thinking, but it was puzzling that a short knife was used.
In the inner depths of dark caves, the Assassin Guild specially researched the third power apart from Dark Sorcery and Martial Arts: [Poison]. The race of Fer Za was an organization formed to survive, by those who were not gifted on Priority when it came to controlling weapons and spells. They had a unique restriction: their only allowed weapons were hidden needles and blow darts coated with poison. Short knives were not included.
In the same reasoning, the leader of the Dark Sorcerers kneeling right beside Shasta, D.I.L., would be out of the consideration. This woman with only desire for status, although she could have considered taking and raising high the Emperor’s head, becoming the dominator of the Land of Darkness, the Sorcerers under D would have used spells instead of a short knife.
Looking at it like that, the one who sent the assassin was not any one of the nine generals.
The one left — could only be himself, the Dark Knight Commander Shasta.
However, he had not the slightest memory of doing that. He had already decided, when he was going to eliminate the Emperor, he would swing his sword with his own life on the line. Of course he didn’t give an assassination order to any of his men, or even the decision that he had kept secret, not once—
No.
No…
Could it be?
After the Emperor finished his words, Shasta thought only for the blink of an eye, and noticed that his left finger on his sword grip had instantly become ice cold.
What was originally sharp, surging determination instantly transformed. Fear. Anxiety. Terror. Then — it became a certainty of impending misfortune.
Almost at the same time, Emperor Vector opened his mouth a second time:
“I don’t want to question right now, regarding the name of the one who sent the assassin. Souls that use their own power in a desire to obtain more power are excellent. If you want my head, cut me whenever my back is turned.”
The Emperor looked arrogantly at the bustling hall, and for the first time, an emotion floated onto his white face — a shallow, light smile.
“Of course, I hope that you all understand that this kind of gamble carries with it an equal price. For example… like this.”
From within his dark robes, a hand extended and made a soft gesture.
Then, set besides the throne, a small door on the wall east of Shasta opened soundlessly, and a servant girl shuffled in. She held a large silver bowl in her hands: inside was a cube-shaped object, but it was obscured with a black cloth, so it couldn’t be seen in detail.
The servant girl set the silver bowl in front of the throne, bowed her head respectfully to the Emperor, and exited through the door.
In the deafening silence, the Emperor wore a crooked smile, extended a toe, placed it against the cloth covering the bowl, and kicked it off.
Shasta, whose entire body, even his thoughts, were frozen, caught sight of —
An ice cube, as transparent as the most perfect crystal.
Sealed inside, was the forever sleeping face of his lover.
“Li…pi…”
Shasta’s lips moved soundlessly.
The coldness that enveloped his entire body disappeared, and was replaced with endlessly deep, dark emptiness in his heart.
Shasta knew that Dark Knight Lipia Zankehl was secretly running an orphanage. No matter the races, she sheltered and educated children who had lost their parents, siblings, and were about to die on the street. Shasta saw a hopeful future in Lipia’s actions.
Therefore, Shasta only told Lipia his own ideals. An endless dream in which the long-term state of war with the Human World would be broken, and a mutually supportive world in which there would be no need for constant snatching and seizing would be created.
But, his own words had driven Lipia to attempt to assassinate the Emperor, and ended in this grievous result. Although it was the Emperor who killed her — Shasta also had a hand in it.
Doubtlessly.
Although it was only for a blink of an eye, a storm of insurmountable guilt and remorse raged in Shasta’s empty-feeling chest.
Instantly, it became a black chunk of emotion.
Murderous intent.
Kill. He must kill that lightly smiling man sitting cross-legged on the throne, no matter what.
Even if he needed to put his own life, and the future of the Dark Territory on the line.
***
Now, who is that suspicious [Your Excellency]?
Gabriel watched the ten prostrated Leader Units under his eyes with a little bit of interest.
The master of the assassin woman whom she so loved. Gabriel had sucked dry all traces of the emotions that tasted of heavenly nectar, that had been released during the woman’s death: not just the yearning of the woman, he even understood the feelings that [Your Excellency] had for the woman herself — although he just analyzed the emotional patterns as data.
Therefore, he was confident that when he showed the woman’s head, the one called Your Excellency would definitely take action. He would mercilessly execute the opposing, rebellious Unit, and increase the loyalty of the rest of the Units through fear. No different from the simulation games he had played to kill time in the real world.
What a bunch of pitiful and happy people.
Although they have real souls, their intelligence is limited, and can be reproduced as much as one wants even if they are killed and killed again. There will eventually be a day, when the Underworld, its Mainframe, and the Light Cubes are mine, the hunger that has so pained me ever since I was young will be quenched.
Leaning his face against his wrist supported by the throne armrest, Gabriel waited, relaxed.
He was a little more than 15 meters from the Units. No matter what attack from any weapon, he could easily counter it with the sword equipped on his left waist.
Of course, he would be unable to deal with a [System Call] prefixed command attack. But Gabriel’s anxiety had already been wiped clean before they logged in.
The super account «God of Darkness Vector» was set up for RATH workers to undertake forced operations to the Dark Territory. Therefore, the HP called Life would be massive, the equipped sword would be the strongest; and on top of all, Vector possessed a cheating attribute to prevent all commands targeting him.
As Gabriel was protected under so many conditions, even as the leftmost Knight out of the ten Units, clad in jet-black armor, bent his back violently.
Even as his entire body was covered with a halo like a light shadow.
Even as he saw the Knight’s left hand gripping his sword’s scabbard as fast as lightning, flicking up his head at the same time, sharp eyes flashing an inhuman crimson from the middle of his iron face—
He did not fully understood what had happened sequentially as he failed to realize the two facts below:
This world, was not only a program executed by a physical server, but also a «Real Dream» that was built with the same photons which human Fluctlights were made out of.
And, because of this, the pure and intense murderous intent created by the Knight in black, from his Light Cube to the Main Visualizer, and through the photon communication circuit, could reach the STL Gabriel was using.
***
In the middle of Shasta’s blood-red vision, he could only see the Emperor’s figure.
With the fastest movement he had ever made in his life, he drew his sword with his right hand.
What released from its scabbard was the Divine Instrument he had inherited from his mentor, the longsword «Hazy Mist», but not in its normal form of a gray blade. True to its name, a thick mist like a night haze encircled the long blade, winding into a vortex.
The logic behind this phenomenon, was the same as the ultimate ability of the Integrity Knights that was indiscernible even under long years of research — the Armament Full Control Art, but all of that seemed insignificant.
“KILL!!”
With an instantaneous scream, Shasta put all rage, hatred, and grief onto his blade, and heavily swung it over his headDetermination. Loyalty. The feeling deep within was…
Ah, so it’s like that.
If that was the case, then there was no more need for this woman. To be precise, there was no more need for this woman’s Fluctlight.
Gabriel complied with his own decision, and without another word, applied force to his left hand, which grasped the woman’s throat.
He felt bones being crushed. The woman’s eyes widened, and her mouth let out a silent scream.
Tightly restraining her struggling limbs, mercilessly tightening his grip around her neck, Gabriel felt a surprise unlike what he felt before.
Was this really a virtual world? No matter if it was the feeling of muscle and bone breaking that was felt by his left hand, or the frightening, painful smell that came from the bare skin, they all stimulated Gabriel’s five senses much more realistically than the real world.
His body trembled unconsciously, and his left hand reflexively closed.
With a muffled crunch, the cervical vertebrae of the unnamed woman were crushed.
Then, Gabriel saw it.
From the forehead of the woman with eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched — floated a prismatic glow.
This, definitely was it — the Soul Cloud once he had seen when he took away Alicia’s life.
In an instant, Gabriel opened his mouth wide, and sucked in every trace of the woman’s soul.
The bitterness of fear, pain.
The sourness of regret and melancholy.
Following these, Gabriel’s tongue was soaked in the heavenly sweet nectar that could not be described with words.
Behind his closed eyelids, a hazy scene was shining.
Small children were playing in the front yard of an old two-story home. There were Humans, Goblins, and Ogres. As they looked over, bright smiles appeared on their faces, and they came running, arms wide open.
That vision vanished, and was replaced with a certain topless man. A wide, thoroughly exercised chest, tenderly, powerfully embracing her.
“I…love you… Your Excellency…”
A tiny voice came, reverberated, and faded away.
After all had disappeared, Gabriel still tightly hugged the woman’s body.
Beautiful. How beautiful of an experience.
Gabriel’s consciousness was largely shaken in ecstasy, but shards of logic attempted to find out the reason for this phenomenon.
The Light Cube that held this deceased woman’s Fluctlight was connected with Gabriel’s Fluctlight through the STL. Therefore, after her Life, or Hit Points became zero, fragments of her released quantum data could abnormally flow to Gabriel through the network.
But, that kind of theory already mattered nothing to Gabriel.
He experienced once more the [phenomenon] that he had been chasing for his entire life. Gabriel extracted and tasted all traces of the woman’s last emotion — [love]. That was like a drop of nectar falling into a stark desert.
More.
More.
More slaughter.
Gabriel’s body threw back in a wide arc, and he let out a wordless guffaw.
***
Ordering the ten generals and the core members of each legion to line up neatly again, Gabriel watched them with a satisfied look as they respectfully bowed down.
Under his orders, they had completed preparations for the attack in two days. By the looks of it, maybe these Units were even more excellent than the fellows sitting on the floor of directors in GlowGen DS.
Really, they should just be classified as [finished products]. The perfect ability to carry out orders, with added loyalty. As AIs piloting robots in war, what else would you need on top of that?
Even so, it should not be forgotten that their loyalty was based on the bug lying in artificial Fluctlights that RATH had been eagerly trying to get rid of. It was only because the general principle [power dominates all] was carved into their souls that these ten people would obey the Emperor, Gabriel — no, Vector. But at the same time, it could also mean that as soon as Gabriel’s power was suspected, anyone could rebel at any moment.
This suspicion had already come true.
In the night two days ago, a female assassin sneaked into his bedroom.
That woman planned to kill the Emperor, who had the highest authority. In her heart, there was a master with a status higher than Gabriel. Someone she called [Your Excellency] at her last moments. And that person, almost for certain, was one of the ten generals in sight.
To her, against Emperor Vector, her own master was the mightier one. Then, the likelihood of the so-called “Your Excellency” not declaring his absolute loyalty to Gabriel was very high. If he took a Unit like this to battle, there would also be the likelihood of being betrayed.
Therefore, the last task before they went to battle was to single out and dispose of [Your Excellency] from the ten people before him.
At the same time, he could demonstrate the power of the Emperor to the remaining nine, forever carving the identity of the strongest into their Fluctlights.
At this time, Gabriel Miller did not consider at all the probability of any of the ten Units before him catching him off guard — in other words, defeating him in a one-on-one fight. To him, the Underworld was no more than an extension of VR games, and was still under the set impression that all Units here were [NPCs].
***
Dark Knight Commander Biksul Ul Shasta maintained his genuflected position, recalling his mentor’s words from twenty years ago, in the Dark Knight headquarters training field.
“…My mentor’s mentor’s head was taken off and he died instantly. My mentor was then cut in the chest and died on the way back to the castle. But even though I lost an arm, I’m alive today. Well, that’s nothing to be proud of, though.”
His mentor said this, sitting on the glossy black floor with his legs folded under his torso[2], as he showed his right arm stump sharply severed on the elbow to Shasta. The wound that was only bound with medicine and gauze seemed painful just by looking at it.
The one who had gave him this injury about three days ago, was the eternal enemy of the Dark Knights, or the most powerful swordsman in the world, or the most ferocious monster — Integrity Knight Bercouli Synthesis One.
“Do you know what this means, Biksul?”
Twenty-year-old Biksul could only scratch his head in confusion. His mentor slid a hand under his clothes, closed his eyes, and continued softly:
“We’re catching up, gradually.”
“Catching up — to that person?”
Young Shasta could not help mixing disbelief into his voice. Just three days ago, Bercouli had demonstrated his crushing swordsmanship. In the instant that his mentor’s arm flew high, spurting blood, the piercing feeling that chilled him to the bone like a pillar of ice still lingered today.
“I’ll be 50 this year. Even so, I still don’t feel like I’m holding my sword in the best way, let alone swinging. I think, in five years to ten years’ time, that won’t change even after I die.”
His mentor said quietly.
“…That way, we short-lived people are unable to achieve what that immortal living for more than 200 years can do. Although it’s pretty embarrassing, even in the instant that our swords cross, I still kept it in mind. But after fleeing following a miserable defeat, I realized that this is wrong. All this time, my mentor and all the Knights in the past have endlessly challenged that man, but it wasn’t all in vain… Biksul, what is the strongest swordsmanship?”
To this sudden question, Biksul answered reflexively:
“A «Slash of Thoughtlessness».”
“Very good. Through long years of training, you unify with your sword. One strike that you don’t think of how to cut, draw, or move would be the ultimate swordsmanship. My mentor taught me this, and I have taught you the same. But… Biksul, that’s not it. There’s something stronger. I’ve realized it since I’ve been cut by that monster.”
A hint of excitement floated onto his mentor’s aged, wrinkled face. Shasta maintained his leg-folded seating position, leaned forward, and asked:
“Something stronger… That is?”
“The opposite of thoughtlessness. Firm confidence. It’s the power of will, Biksul.”
Suddenly, his mentor stood up from the wooden floor, and waved his right arm stump vigorously.
“You see. Back then, I sliced down with a right diagonal slash. It was exactly a thoughtless attack; the fastest I have ever swung my sword in my life. At that moment when I drew my sword, I already had the advantage.”
“Yes… I thought so as well.”
“But… But. Normally, my sword should’ve bounced off his defense, but he pressed my sword back, and this arm was sliced off… Can you believe it, Biksul; in that moment, his sword didn’t even touch mine!”
Shasta kept silent, and shook his head dubiously.
“H… How could this…”
“It’s the truth. It was like… the very path of the sword, was completely altered by some unseen force. It’s not a spell, nor is it the Armament Full Control Art. We can only explain it like this: my Slash of Thoughtlessness was defeated by his willpower built up with two hundred years of hard training. Because he pictured where he wanted my sword to go so intensely, it became the unchanging truth!”
Shasta was unable to immediately believe his mentor’s words.
The power of will: something amorphous like that can defeat a real, heavy, rigid sword; no matter what, that can’t be real.
It looked like that Shasta’s mentor expected this reaction. Suddenly regaining the formality in his sitting position, on the glossy black floor, he calmly ordered:
“Okay, Biksul. I’ll teach you my last sword technique. — Cut me.”
“What… What are you saying! It’s difficult for you to…”
Have lived so long; Shasta could only swallow these words. Suddenly, his mentor’s eyes flashed with a strong light.
“Since I managed to live on, there is even more necessity for you to cut me. Since I’ve been defeated by that man in one stroke, I’m no longer the strongest in your heart. As long as I live, you’re unable to battle that man on equal footing. Cut, no, kill me, and stand at the same height as him… Bercouli!!”
His mentor finished and stood, holding his right arm stump as though he was gripping a sword.
“Now, stand up! Draw your sword, Biksul!!”
Biksul cut his mentor, and ended his life.
At the same time, he realized with his body the meaning of his mentor’s words.
The invisible sword that his mentor’s severed right hand held — the sword called [will], let out intense sparks as it crossed with Shasta’s sword, and marked an eternal wound on his face.
His face stained with tears and blood, the young Shasta stood at the zenith that exceeded the «Slash of Thoughtlessness» — on the border of the «Slash of Incarnation».
Time passed — Five years ago.
Shasta finally challenged the archenemy of the Dark Knights, Integrity Knight Commander Bercouli. He was but 37 years old, but he felt that his sword had achieved the highest.
His mentor had exchanged an arm for his life, but Shasta had no intention of returning defeated. Because Shasta had no apprentice as his successor. He did not want his young apprentice to have the executioner’s burden, and bear the destiny of having his life sliced away. He decided to put his life on the line, and sever the blood-stained cycle there and then.
The sword called [will] that carried with it all determination and realization, during its first cross with Bercouli’s, was not deflected at all. But in that instant, Shasta already predicted his own loss. He did not think that he could reproduce a slash of such power.
But, as they crossed swords, Bercouli laughed roughly:
“Your swordsmanship isn’t bad. If you only have murderous intent, you will be unable to block my sword. Go back and think long and hard about the meaning behind my words, and return after five years, little boy.”
Then the Integrity Knight Commander turned and left. But Shasta didn’t know why he was unable to swing his sword towards the Knight’s back, which looked full of openings.
To understand the meaning behind Bercouli’s words, it took a very long time. But he finally understood what happened now, five years later. Then, if Shasta had swung his sword only with hatred and the intent to kill, he would have immediately been defeated. Although it was only one round, he was able to clash with him because he held a realization much heavier than murderous intent.
That was — gratitude to the mentors who put their life on the line to pass on their knowledge, and a prayer for the young one who will become his successor.
Therefore, after receiving news of the Highest Minister’s death, Shasta immediately decided to negotiate for peace. He was confident that, if the other party was Bercouli, he would definitely accept.
For the same reason—
This Emperor Vector, who suddenly descended on Obsidia and decided to wage war without saying anything else, must be cut to death by Shasta himself.
Even as he kneeled and bowed his head, Shasta was shaping out the [Incarnation] that he must load his killing Slash with.
This Emperor that left the Dark World for hundreds of years and suddenly revived was a young man with white skin and golden hair, similar to that of a Human World resident. His figure and looks were not necessarily charismatic.
But, only his extraordinarily blue eyes revealed that the Emperor was not an ordinary man. Within those eyes was a [void]. A bottomless abyss sucking in all light. This man concealed a colossal and evil hunger.
If his exercised Power of Incarnation was engulfed by the Emperor’s void, the blade would be unable to reach him.
If that happened, Dark Knight Shasta would lose his life. But, his will would likely be succeeded by someone after him.
His only regret was that he was unable to convey his determination as he did not see Lipia yesterday. She might be busy with preparation before the attack, or staying in her important [home].
If he told her his intent to slay the Emperor, she would definitely not listen and beg to join him. It was better this way.
Shasta slowly inhaled, building up.
With his hand, he quietly touched the sword that was released from his belt and placed on the floor.
He was about 15 Mel from the throne. He only had to take two steps to reach it.
He must not let anyone notice. He must be thoughtless in drawing his sword.
Purifying and contracting his Power of Incarnation to the limit, he injected it into his sword through his fingers. Then, he emptied his body.
His left hand gripped the sword—
Just then.
The Emperor spoke nonchalantly with a sound as smooth and rigid as glass:
“Just — last night, someone infiltrated my bedroom. With a short knife concealed in their hair.”
A suppressed gasp wavered the air in the hall.
In the line of the other nine Feudal Lords to Shasta’s left, someone softly held their breath, another let out a low moan from the depths of their throat, and another shrank back into their thick robes. A few among the officers in the back made sounds as well.
Shasta was equally shocked. Maintaining his stance and style before slicing, he thought for an instant.
Besides himself, there were others who came to the conclusion of eliminating the Emperor. Unfortunately, the fact that the Emperor was still alive showed that they had failed — but which of the nine people sent out the assassin?
Not the five Demihuman generals. Passing over the Giant, Ogre, and Orc, even the shorter Goblins were unlikely to have dodged the eyes and ears of the guards and infiltrated the top floor.
If he considered the four Human generals, he could first exclude the young leader of the Fighters, Iskahn, and the leader of the Commerce and Industry Guild, Lengil. Iskahn was just a straightforward boy who purely aimed at improving his empty-handed combat to the maximum, and Lengil would love to make a lot of money out of the war.
Since the attacker had infiltrated the bedroom, the leader of the Assassin Guild, Fer Za, was the most suspicious, and he actually had a few hints for what that man was thinking, but it was puzzling that a short knife was used.
In the inner depths of dark caves, the Assassin Guild specially researched the third power apart from Dark Sorcery and Martial Arts: [Poison]. The race of Fer Za was an organization formed to survive, by those who were not gifted on Priority when it came to controlling weapons and spells. They had a unique restriction: their only allowed weapons were hidden needles and blow darts coated with poison. Short knives were not included.
In the same reasoning, the leader of the Dark Sorcerers kneeling right beside Shasta, D.I.L., would be out of the consideration. This woman with only desire for status, although she could have considered taking and raising high the Emperor’s head, becoming the dominator of the Land of Darkness, the Sorcerers under D would have used spells instead of a short knife.
Looking at it like that, the one who sent the assassin was not any one of the nine generals.
The one left — could only be himself, the Dark Knight Commander Shasta.
However, he had not the slightest memory of doing that. He had already decided, when he was going to eliminate the Emperor, he would swing his sword with his own life on the line. Of course he didn’t give an assassination order to any of his men, or even the decision that he had kept secret, not once—
No.
No…
Could it be?
After the Emperor finished his words, Shasta thought only for the blink of an eye, and noticed that his left finger on his sword grip had instantly become ice cold.
What was originally sharp, surging determination instantly transformed. Fear. Anxiety. Terror. Then — it became a certainty of impending misfortune.
Almost at the same time, Emperor Vector opened his mouth a second time:
“I don’t want to question right now, regarding the name of the one who sent the assassin. Souls that use their own power in a desire to obtain more power are excellent. If you want my head, cut me whenever my back is turned.”
The Emperor looked arrogantly at the bustling hall, and for the first time, an emotion floated onto his white face — a shallow, light smile.
“Of course, I hope that you all understand that this kind of gamble carries with it an equal price. For example… like this.”
From within his dark robes, a hand extended and made a soft gesture.
Then, set besides the throne, a small door on the wall east of Shasta opened soundlessly, and a servant girl shuffled in. She held a large silver bowl in her hands: inside was a cube-shaped object, but it was obscured with a black cloth, so it couldn’t be seen in detail.
The servant girl set the silver bowl in front of the throne, bowed her head respectfully to the Emperor, and exited through the door.
In the deafening silence, the Emperor wore a crooked smile, extended a toe, placed it against the cloth covering the bowl, and kicked it off.
Shasta, whose entire body, even his thoughts, were frozen, caught sight of —
An ice cube, as transparent as the most perfect crystal.
Sealed inside, was the forever sleeping face of his lover.
“Li…pi…”
Shasta’s lips moved soundlessly.
The coldness that enveloped his entire body disappeared, and was replaced with endlessly deep, dark emptiness in his heart.
Shasta knew that Dark Knight Lipia Zankehl was secretly running an orphanage. No matter the races, she sheltered and educated children who had lost their parents, siblings, and were about to die on the street. Shasta saw a hopeful future in Lipia’s actions.
Therefore, Shasta only told Lipia his own ideals. An endless dream in which the long-term state of war with the Human World would be broken, and a mutually supportive world in which there would be no need for constant snatching and seizing would be created.
But, his own words had driven Lipia to attempt to assassinate the Emperor, and ended in this grievous result. Although it was the Emperor who killed her — Shasta also had a hand in it.
Doubtlessly.
Although it was only for a blink of an eye, a storm of insurmountable guilt and remorse raged in Shasta’s empty-feeling chest.
Instantly, it became a black chunk of emotion.
Murderous intent.
Kill. He must kill that lightly smiling man sitting cross-legged on the throne, no matter what.
Even if he needed to put his own life, and the future of the Dark Territory on the line.
***
Now, who is that suspicious [Your Excellency]?
Gabriel watched the ten prostrated Leader Units under his eyes with a little bit of interest.
The master of the assassin woman whom she so loved. Gabriel had sucked dry all traces of the emotions that tasted of heavenly nectar, that had been released during the woman’s death: not just the yearning of the woman, he even understood the feelings that [Your Excellency] had for the woman herself — although he just analyzed the emotional patterns as data.
Therefore, he was confident that when he showed the woman’s head, the one called Your Excellency would definitely take action. He would mercilessly execute the opposing, rebellious Unit, and increase the loyalty of the rest of the Units through fear. No different from the simulation games he had played to kill time in the real world.
What a bunch of pitiful and happy people.
Although they have real souls, their intelligence is limited, and can be reproduced as much as one wants even if they are killed and killed again. There will eventually be a day, when the Underworld, its Mainframe, and the Light Cubes are mine, the hunger that has so pained me ever since I was young will be quenched.
Leaning his face against his wrist supported by the throne armrest, Gabriel waited, relaxed.
He was a little more than 15 meters from the Units. No matter what attack from any weapon, he could easily counter it with the sword equipped on his left waist.
Of course, he would be unable to deal with a [System Call] prefixed command attack. But Gabriel’s anxiety had already been wiped clean before they logged in.
The super account «God of Darkness Vector» was set up for RATH workers to undertake forced operations to the Dark Territory. Therefore, the HP called Life would be massive, the equipped sword would be the strongest; and on top of all, Vector possessed a cheating attribute to prevent all commands targeting him.
As Gabriel was protected under so many conditions, even as the leftmost Knight out of the ten Units, clad in jet-black armor, bent his back violently.
Even as his entire body was covered with a halo like a light shadow.
Even as he saw the Knight’s left hand gripping his sword’s scabbard as fast as lightning, flicking up his head at the same time, sharp eyes flashing an inhuman crimson from the middle of his iron face—
He did not fully understood what had happened sequentially as he failed to realize the two facts below:
This world, was not only a program executed by a physical server, but also a «Real Dream» that was built with the same photons which human Fluctlights were made out of.
And, because of this, the pure and intense murderous intent created by the Knight in black, from his Light Cube to the Main Visualizer, and through the photon communication circuit, could reach the STL Gabriel was using.
***
In the middle of Shasta’s blood-red vision, he could only see the Emperor’s figure.
With the fastest movement he had ever made in his life, he drew his sword with his right hand.
What released from its scabbard was the Divine Instrument he had inherited from his mentor, the longsword «Hazy Mist», but not in its normal form of a gray blade. True to its name, a thick mist like a night haze encircled the long blade, winding into a vortex.
The logic behind this phenomenon, was the same as the ultimate ability of the Integrity Knights that was indiscernible even under long years of research — the Armament Full Control Art, but all of that seemed insignificant.
“KILL!!”
With an instantaneous scream, Shasta put all rage, hatred, and grief onto his blade, and heavily swung it over his headDetermination. Loyalty. The feeling deep within was…
Ah, so it’s like that.
If that was the case, then there was no more need for this woman. To be precise, there was no more need for this woman’s Fluctlight.
Gabriel complied with his own decision, and without another word, applied force to his left hand, which grasped the woman’s throat.
He felt bones being crushed. The woman’s eyes widened, and her mouth let out a silent scream.
Tightly restraining her struggling limbs, mercilessly tightening his grip around her neck, Gabriel felt a surprise unlike what he felt before.
Was this really a virtual world? No matter if it was the feeling of muscle and bone breaking that was felt by his left hand, or the frightening, painful smell that came from the bare skin, they all stimulated Gabriel’s five senses much more realistically than the real world.
His body trembled unconsciously, and his left hand reflexively closed.
With a muffled crunch, the cervical vertebrae of the unnamed woman were crushed.
Then, Gabriel saw it.
From the forehead of the woman with eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched — floated a prismatic glow.
This, definitely was it — the Soul Cloud once he had seen when he took away Alicia’s life.
In an instant, Gabriel opened his mouth wide, and sucked in every trace of the woman’s soul.
The bitterness of fear, pain.
The sourness of regret and melancholy.
Following these, Gabriel’s tongue was soaked in the heavenly sweet nectar that could not be described with words.
Behind his closed eyelids, a hazy scene was shining.
Small children were playing in the front yard of an old two-story home. There were Humans, Goblins, and Ogres. As they looked over, bright smiles appeared on their faces, and they came running, arms wide open.
That vision vanished, and was replaced with a certain topless man. A wide, thoroughly exercised chest, tenderly, powerfully embracing her.
“I…love you… Your Excellency…”
A tiny voice came, reverberated, and faded away.
After all had disappeared, Gabriel still tightly hugged the woman’s body.
Beautiful. How beautiful of an experience.
Gabriel’s consciousness was largely shaken in ecstasy, but shards of logic attempted to find out the reason for this phenomenon.
The Light Cube that held this deceased woman’s Fluctlight was connected with Gabriel’s Fluctlight through the STL. Therefore, after her Life, or Hit Points became zero, fragments of her released quantum data could abnormally flow to Gabriel through the network.
But, that kind of theory already mattered nothing to Gabriel.
He experienced once more the [phenomenon] that he had been chasing for his entire life. Gabriel extracted and tasted all traces of the woman’s last emotion — [love]. That was like a drop of nectar falling into a stark desert.
More.
More.
More slaughter.
Gabriel’s body threw back in a wide arc, and he let out a wordless guffaw.
***
Ordering the ten generals and the core members of each legion to line up neatly again, Gabriel watched them with a satisfied look as they respectfully bowed down.
Under his orders, they had completed preparations for the attack in two days. By the looks of it, maybe these Units were even more excellent than the fellows sitting on the floor of directors in GlowGen DS.
Really, they should just be classified as [finished products]. The perfect ability to carry out orders, with added loyalty. As AIs piloting robots in war, what else would you need on top of that?
Even so, it should not be forgotten that their loyalty was based on the bug lying in artificial Fluctlights that RATH had been eagerly trying to get rid of. It was only because the general principle [power dominates all] was carved into their souls that these ten people would obey the Emperor, Gabriel — no, Vector. But at the same time, it could also mean that as soon as Gabriel’s power was suspected, anyone could rebel at any moment.
This suspicion had already come true.
In the night two days ago, a female assassin sneaked into his bedroom.
That woman planned to kill the Emperor, who had the highest authority. In her heart, there was a master with a status higher than Gabriel. Someone she called [Your Excellency] at her last moments. And that person, almost for certain, was one of the ten generals in sight.
To her, against Emperor Vector, her own master was the mightier one. Then, the likelihood of the so-called “Your Excellency” not declaring his absolute loyalty to Gabriel was very high. If he took a Unit like this to battle, there would also be the likelihood of being betrayed.
Therefore, the last task before they went to battle was to single out and dispose of [Your Excellency] from the ten people before him.
At the same time, he could demonstrate the power of the Emperor to the remaining nine, forever carving the identity of the strongest into their Fluctlights.
At this time, Gabriel Miller did not consider at all the probability of any of the ten Units before him catching him off guard — in other words, defeating him in a one-on-one fight. To him, the Underworld was no more than an extension of VR games, and was still under the set impression that all Units here were [NPCs].
***
Dark Knight Commander Biksul Ul Shasta maintained his genuflected position, recalling his mentor’s words from twenty years ago, in the Dark Knight headquarters training field.
“…My mentor’s mentor’s head was taken off and he died instantly. My mentor was then cut in the chest and died on the way back to the castle. But even though I lost an arm, I’m alive today. Well, that’s nothing to be proud of, though.”
His mentor said this, sitting on the glossy black floor with his legs folded under his torso[2], as he showed his right arm stump sharply severed on the elbow to Shasta. The wound that was only bound with medicine and gauze seemed painful just by looking at it.
The one who had gave him this injury about three days ago, was the eternal enemy of the Dark Knights, or the most powerful swordsman in the world, or the most ferocious monster — Integrity Knight Bercouli Synthesis One.
“Do you know what this means, Biksul?”
Twenty-year-old Biksul could only scratch his head in confusion. His mentor slid a hand under his clothes, closed his eyes, and continued softly:
“We’re catching up, gradually.”
“Catching up — to that person?”
Young Shasta could not help mixing disbelief into his voice. Just three days ago, Bercouli had demonstrated his crushing swordsmanship. In the instant that his mentor’s arm flew high, spurting blood, the piercing feeling that chilled him to the bone like a pillar of ice still lingered today.
“I’ll be 50 this year. Even so, I still don’t feel like I’m holding my sword in the best way, let alone swinging. I think, in five years to ten years’ time, that won’t change even after I die.”
His mentor said quietly.
“…That way, we short-lived people are unable to achieve what that immortal living for more than 200 years can do. Although it’s pretty embarrassing, even in the instant that our swords cross, I still kept it in mind. But after fleeing following a miserable defeat, I realized that this is wrong. All this time, my mentor and all the Knights in the past have endlessly challenged that man, but it wasn’t all in vain… Biksul, what is the strongest swordsmanship?”
To this sudden question, Biksul answered reflexively:
“A «Slash of Thoughtlessness».”
“Very good. Through long years of training, you unify with your sword. One strike that you don’t think of how to cut, draw, or move would be the ultimate swordsmanship. My mentor taught me this, and I have taught you the same. But… Biksul, that’s not it. There’s something stronger. I’ve realized it since I’ve been cut by that monster.”
A hint of excitement floated onto his mentor’s aged, wrinkled face. Shasta maintained his leg-folded seating position, leaned forward, and asked:
“Something stronger… That is?”
“The opposite of thoughtlessness. Firm confidence. It’s the power of will, Biksul.”
Suddenly, his mentor stood up from the wooden floor, and waved his right arm stump vigorously.
“You see. Back then, I sliced down with a right diagonal slash. It was exactly a thoughtless attack; the fastest I have ever swung my sword in my life. At that moment when I drew my sword, I already had the advantage.”
“Yes… I thought so as well.”
“But… But. Normally, my sword should’ve bounced off his defense, but he pressed my sword back, and this arm was sliced off… Can you believe it, Biksul; in that moment, his sword didn’t even touch mine!”
Shasta kept silent, and shook his head dubiously.
“H… How could this…”
“It’s the truth. It was like… the very path of the sword, was completely altered by some unseen force. It’s not a spell, nor is it the Armament Full Control Art. We can only explain it like this: my Slash of Thoughtlessness was defeated by his willpower built up with two hundred years of hard training. Because he pictured where he wanted my sword to go so intensely, it became the unchanging truth!”
Shasta was unable to immediately believe his mentor’s words.
The power of will: something amorphous like that can defeat a real, heavy, rigid sword; no matter what, that can’t be real.
It looked like that Shasta’s mentor expected this reaction. Suddenly regaining the formality in his sitting position, on the glossy black floor, he calmly ordered:
“Okay, Biksul. I’ll teach you my last sword technique. — Cut me.”
“What… What are you saying! It’s difficult for you to…”
Have lived so long; Shasta could only swallow these words. Suddenly, his mentor’s eyes flashed with a strong light.
“Since I managed to live on, there is even more necessity for you to cut me. Since I’ve been defeated by that man in one stroke, I’m no longer the strongest in your heart. As long as I live, you’re unable to battle that man on equal footing. Cut, no, kill me, and stand at the same height as him… Bercouli!!”
His mentor finished and stood, holding his right arm stump as though he was gripping a sword.
“Now, stand up! Draw your sword, Biksul!!”
Biksul cut his mentor, and ended his life.
At the same time, he realized with his body the meaning of his mentor’s words.
The invisible sword that his mentor’s severed right hand held — the sword called [will], let out intense sparks as it crossed with Shasta’s sword, and marked an eternal wound on his face.
His face stained with tears and blood, the young Shasta stood at the zenith that exceeded the «Slash of Thoughtlessness» — on the border of the «Slash of Incarnation».
Time passed — Five years ago.
Shasta finally challenged the archenemy of the Dark Knights, Integrity Knight Commander Bercouli. He was but 37 years old, but he felt that his sword had achieved the highest.
His mentor had exchanged an arm for his life, but Shasta had no intention of returning defeated. Because Shasta had no apprentice as his successor. He did not want his young apprentice to have the executioner’s burden, and bear the destiny of having his life sliced away. He decided to put his life on the line, and sever the blood-stained cycle there and then.
The sword called [will] that carried with it all determination and realization, during its first cross with Bercouli’s, was not deflected at all. But in that instant, Shasta already predicted his own loss. He did not think that he could reproduce a slash of such power.
But, as they crossed swords, Bercouli laughed roughly:
“Your swordsmanship isn’t bad. If you only have murderous intent, you will be unable to block my sword. Go back and think long and hard about the meaning behind my words, and return after five years, little boy.”
Then the Integrity Knight Commander turned and left. But Shasta didn’t know why he was unable to swing his sword towards the Knight’s back, which looked full of openings.
To understand the meaning behind Bercouli’s words, it took a very long time. But he finally understood what happened now, five years later. Then, if Shasta had swung his sword only with hatred and the intent to kill, he would have immediately been defeated. Although it was only one round, he was able to clash with him because he held a realization much heavier than murderous intent.
That was — gratitude to the mentors who put their life on the line to pass on their knowledge, and a prayer for the young one who will become his successor.
Therefore, after receiving news of the Highest Minister’s death, Shasta immediately decided to negotiate for peace. He was confident that, if the other party was Bercouli, he would definitely accept.
For the same reason—
This Emperor Vector, who suddenly descended on Obsidia and decided to wage war without saying anything else, must be cut to death by Shasta himself.
Even as he kneeled and bowed his head, Shasta was shaping out the [Incarnation] that he must load his killing Slash with.
This Emperor that left the Dark World for hundreds of years and suddenly revived was a young man with white skin and golden hair, similar to that of a Human World resident. His figure and looks were not necessarily charismatic.
But, only his extraordinarily blue eyes revealed that the Emperor was not an ordinary man. Within those eyes was a [void]. A bottomless abyss sucking in all light. This man concealed a colossal and evil hunger.
If his exercised Power of Incarnation was engulfed by the Emperor’s void, the blade would be unable to reach him.
If that happened, Dark Knight Shasta would lose his life. But, his will would likely be succeeded by someone after him.
His only regret was that he was unable to convey his determination as he did not see Lipia yesterday. She might be busy with preparation before the attack, or staying in her important [home].
If he told her his intent to slay the Emperor, she would definitely not listen and beg to join him. It was better this way.
Shasta slowly inhaled, building up.
With his hand, he quietly touched the sword that was released from his belt and placed on the floor.
He was about 15 Mel from the throne. He only had to take two steps to reach it.
He must not let anyone notice. He must be thoughtless in drawing his sword.
Purifying and contracting his Power of Incarnation to the limit, he injected it into his sword through his fingers. Then, he emptied his body.
His left hand gripped the sword—
Just then.
The Emperor spoke nonchalantly with a sound as smooth and rigid as glass:
“Just — last night, someone infiltrated my bedroom. With a short knife concealed in their hair.”
A suppressed gasp wavered the air in the hall.
In the line of the other nine Feudal Lords to Shasta’s left, someone softly held their breath, another let out a low moan from the depths of their throat, and another shrank back into their thick robes. A few among the officers in the back made sounds as well.
Shasta was equally shocked. Maintaining his stance and style before slicing, he thought for an instant.
Besides himself, there were others who came to the conclusion of eliminating the Emperor. Unfortunately, the fact that the Emperor was still alive showed that they had failed — but which of the nine people sent out the assassin?
Not the five Demihuman generals. Passing over the Giant, Ogre, and Orc, even the shorter Goblins were unlikely to have dodged the eyes and ears of the guards and infiltrated the top floor.
If he considered the four Human generals, he could first exclude the young leader of the Fighters, Iskahn, and the leader of the Commerce and Industry Guild, Lengil. Iskahn was just a straightforward boy who purely aimed at improving his empty-handed combat to the maximum, and Lengil would love to make a lot of money out of the war.
Since the attacker had infiltrated the bedroom, the leader of the Assassin Guild, Fer Za, was the most suspicious, and he actually had a few hints for what that man was thinking, but it was puzzling that a short knife was used.
In the inner depths of dark caves, the Assassin Guild specially researched the third power apart from Dark Sorcery and Martial Arts: [Poison]. The race of Fer Za was an organization formed to survive, by those who were not gifted on Priority when it came to controlling weapons and spells. They had a unique restriction: their only allowed weapons were hidden needles and blow darts coated with poison. Short knives were not included.
In the same reasoning, the leader of the Dark Sorcerers kneeling right beside Shasta, D.I.L., would be out of the consideration. This woman with only desire for status, although she could have considered taking and raising high the Emperor’s head, becoming the dominator of the Land of Darkness, the Sorcerers under D would have used spells instead of a short knife.
Looking at it like that, the one who sent the assassin was not any one of the nine generals.
The one left — could only be himself, the Dark Knight Commander Shasta.
However, he had not the slightest memory of doing that. He had already decided, when he was going to eliminate the Emperor, he would swing his sword with his own life on the line. Of course he didn’t give an assassination order to any of his men, or even the decision that he had kept secret, not once—
No.
No…
Could it be?
After the Emperor finished his words, Shasta thought only for the blink of an eye, and noticed that his left finger on his sword grip had instantly become ice cold.
What was originally sharp, surging determination instantly transformed. Fear. Anxiety. Terror. Then — it became a certainty of impending misfortune.
Almost at the same time, Emperor Vector opened his mouth a second time:
“I don’t want to question right now, regarding the name of the one who sent the assassin. Souls that use their own power in a desire to obtain more power are excellent. If you want my head, cut me whenever my back is turned.”
The Emperor looked arrogantly at the bustling hall, and for the first time, an emotion floated onto his white face — a shallow, light smile.
“Of course, I hope that you all understand that this kind of gamble carries with it an equal price. For example… like this.”
From within his dark robes, a hand extended and made a soft gesture.
Then, set besides the throne, a small door on the wall east of Shasta opened soundlessly, and a servant girl shuffled in. She held a large silver bowl in her hands: inside was a cube-shaped object, but it was obscured with a black cloth, so it couldn’t be seen in detail.
The servant girl set the silver bowl in front of the throne, bowed her head respectfully to the Emperor, and exited through the door.
In the deafening silence, the Emperor wore a crooked smile, extended a toe, placed it against the cloth covering the bowl, and kicked it off.
Shasta, whose entire body, even his thoughts, were frozen, caught sight of —
An ice cube, as transparent as the most perfect crystal.
Sealed inside, was the forever sleeping face of his lover.
“Li…pi…”
Shasta’s lips moved soundlessly.
The coldness that enveloped his entire body disappeared, and was replaced with endlessly deep, dark emptiness in his heart.
Shasta knew that Dark Knight Lipia Zankehl was secretly running an orphanage. No matter the races, she sheltered and educated children who had lost their parents, siblings, and were about to die on the street. Shasta saw a hopeful future in Lipia’s actions.
Therefore, Shasta only told Lipia his own ideals. An endless dream in which the long-term state of war with the Human World would be broken, and a mutually supportive world in which there would be no need for constant snatching and seizing would be created.
But, his own words had driven Lipia to attempt to assassinate the Emperor, and ended in this grievous result. Although it was the Emperor who killed her — Shasta also had a hand in it.
Doubtlessly.
Although it was only for a blink of an eye, a storm of insurmountable guilt and remorse raged in Shasta’s empty-feeling chest.
Instantly, it became a black chunk of emotion.
Murderous intent.
Kill. He must kill that lightly smiling man sitting cross-legged on the throne, no matter what.
Even if he needed to put his own life, and the future of the Dark Territory on the line.
***
Now, who is that suspicious [Your Excellency]?
Gabriel watched the ten prostrated Leader Units under his eyes with a little bit of interest.
The master of the assassin woman whom she so loved. Gabriel had sucked dry all traces of the emotions that tasted of heavenly nectar, that had been released during the woman’s death: not just the yearning of the woman, he even understood the feelings that [Your Excellency] had for the woman herself — although he just analyzed the emotional patterns as data.
Therefore, he was confident that when he showed the woman’s head, the one called Your Excellency would definitely take action. He would mercilessly execute the opposing, rebellious Unit, and increase the loyalty of the rest of the Units through fear. No different from the simulation games he had played to kill time in the real world.
What a bunch of pitiful and happy people.
Although they have real souls, their intelligence is limited, and can be reproduced as much as one wants even if they are killed and killed again. There will eventually be a day, when the Underworld, its Mainframe, and the Light Cubes are mine, the hunger that has so pained me ever since I was young will be quenched.
Leaning his face against his wrist supported by the throne armrest, Gabriel waited, relaxed.
He was a little more than 15 meters from the Units. No matter what attack from any weapon, he could easily counter it with the sword equipped on his left waist.
Of course, he would be unable to deal with a [System Call] prefixed command attack. But Gabriel’s anxiety had already been wiped clean before they logged in.
The super account «God of Darkness Vector» was set up for RATH workers to undertake forced operations to the Dark Territory. Therefore, the HP called Life would be massive, the equipped sword would be the strongest; and on top of all, Vector possessed a cheating attribute to prevent all commands targeting him.
As Gabriel was protected under so many conditions, even as the leftmost Knight out of the ten Units, clad in jet-black armor, bent his back violently.
Even as his entire body was covered with a halo like a light shadow.
Even as he saw the Knight’s left hand gripping his sword’s scabbard as fast as lightning, flicking up his head at the same time, sharp eyes flashing an inhuman crimson from the middle of his iron face—
He did not fully understood what had happened sequentially as he failed to realize the two facts below:
This world, was not only a program executed by a physical server, but also a «Real Dream» that was built with the same photons which human Fluctlights were made out of.
And, because of this, the pure and intense murderous intent created by the Knight in black, from his Light Cube to the Main Visualizer, and through the photon communication circuit, could reach the STL Gabriel was using.
***
In the middle of Shasta’s blood-red vision, he could only see the Emperor’s figure.
With the fastest movement he had ever made in his life, he drew his sword with his right hand.
What released from its scabbard was the Divine Instrument he had inherited from his mentor, the longsword «Hazy Mist», but not in its normal form of a gray blade. True to its name, a thick mist like a night haze encircled the long blade, winding into a vortex.
The logic behind this phenomenon, was the same as the ultimate ability of the Integrity Knights that was indiscernible even under long years of research — the Armament Full Control Art, but all of that seemed insignificant.
“KILL!!”
With an instantaneous scream, Shasta put all rage, hatred, and grief onto his blade, and heavily swung it over his headDetermination. Loyalty. The feeling deep within was…
Ah, so it’s like that.
If that was the case, then there was no more need for this woman. To be precise, there was no more need for this woman’s Fluctlight.
Gabriel complied with his own decision, and without another word, applied force to his left hand, which grasped the woman’s throat.
He felt bones being crushed. The woman’s eyes widened, and her mouth let out a silent scream.
Tightly restraining her struggling limbs, mercilessly tightening his grip around her neck, Gabriel felt a surprise unlike what he felt before.
Was this really a virtual world? No matter if it was the feeling of muscle and bone breaking that was felt by his left hand, or the frightening, painful smell that came from the bare skin, they all stimulated Gabriel’s five senses much more realistically than the real world.
His body trembled unconsciously, and his left hand reflexively closed.
With a muffled crunch, the cervical vertebrae of the unnamed woman were crushed.
Then, Gabriel saw it.
From the forehead of the woman with eyes tightly closed and teeth clenched — floated a prismatic glow.
This, definitely was it — the Soul Cloud once he had seen when he took away Alicia’s life.
In an instant, Gabriel opened his mouth wide, and sucked in every trace of the woman’s soul.
The bitterness of fear, pain.
The sourness of regret and melancholy.
Following these, Gabriel’s tongue was soaked in the heavenly sweet nectar that could not be described with words.
Behind his closed eyelids, a hazy scene was shining.
Small children were playing in the front yard of an old two-story home. There were Humans, Goblins, and Ogres. As they looked over, bright smiles appeared on their faces, and they came running, arms wide open.
That vision vanished, and was replaced with a certain topless man. A wide, thoroughly exercised chest, tenderly, powerfully embracing her.
“I…love you… Your Excellency…”
A tiny voice came, reverberated, and faded away.
After all had disappeared, Gabriel still tightly hugged the woman’s body.
Beautiful. How beautiful of an experience.
Gabriel’s consciousness was largely shaken in ecstasy, but shards of logic attempted to find out the reason for this phenomenon.
The Light Cube that held this deceased woman’s Fluctlight was connected with Gabriel’s Fluctlight through the STL. Therefore, after her Life, or Hit Points became zero, fragments of her released quantum data could abnormally flow to Gabriel through the network.
But, that kind of theory already mattered nothing to Gabriel.
He experienced once more the [phenomenon] that he had been chasing for his entire life. Gabriel extracted and tasted all traces of the woman’s last emotion — [love]. That was like a drop of nectar falling into a stark desert.
More.
More.
More slaughter.
Gabriel’s body threw back in a wide arc, and he let out a wordless guffaw.
***
Ordering the ten generals and the core members of each legion to line up neatly again, Gabriel watched them with a satisfied look as they respectfully bowed down.
Under his orders, they had completed preparations for the attack in two days. By the looks of it, maybe these Units were even more excellent than the fellows sitting on the floor of directors in GlowGen DS.
Really, they should just be classified as [finished products]. The perfect ability to carry out orders, with added loyalty. As AIs piloting robots in war, what else would you need on top of that?
Even so, it should not be forgotten that their loyalty was based on the bug lying in artificial Fluctlights that RATH had been eagerly trying to get rid of. It was only because the general principle [power dominates all] was carved into their souls that these ten people would obey the Emperor, Gabriel — no, Vector. But at the same time, it could also mean that as soon as Gabriel’s power was suspected, anyone could rebel at any moment.
This suspicion had already come true.
In the night two days ago, a female assassin sneaked into his bedroom.
That woman planned to kill the Emperor, who had the highest authority. In her heart, there was a master with a status higher than Gabriel. Someone she called [Your Excellency] at her last moments. And that person, almost for certain, was one of the ten generals in sight.
To her, against Emperor Vector, her own master was the mightier one. Then, the likelihood of the so-called “Your Excellency” not declaring his absolute loyalty to Gabriel was very high. If he took a Unit like this to battle, there would also be the likelihood of being betrayed.
Therefore, the last task before they went to battle was to single out and dispose of [Your Excellency] from the ten people before him.
At the same time, he could demonstrate the power of the Emperor to the remaining nine, forever carving the identity of the strongest into their Fluctlights.
At this time, Gabriel Miller did not consider at all the probability of any of the ten Units before him catching him off guard — in other words, defeating him in a one-on-one fight. To him, the Underworld was no more than an extension of VR games, and was still under the set impression that all Units here were [NPCs].
***
Dark Knight Commander Biksul Ul Shasta maintained his genuflected position, recalling his mentor’s words from twenty years ago, in the Dark Knight headquarters training field.
“…My mentor’s mentor’s head was taken off and he died instantly. My mentor was then cut in the chest and died on the way back to the castle. But even though I lost an arm, I’m alive today. Well, that’s nothing to be proud of, though.”
His mentor said this, sitting on the glossy black floor with his legs folded under his torso[2], as he showed his right arm stump sharply severed on the elbow to Shasta. The wound that was only bound with medicine and gauze seemed painful just by looking at it.
The one who had gave him this injury about three days ago, was the eternal enemy of the Dark Knights, or the most powerful swordsman in the world, or the most ferocious monster — Integrity Knight Bercouli Synthesis One.
“Do you know what this means, Biksul?”
Twenty-year-old Biksul could only scratch his head in confusion. His mentor slid a hand under his clothes, closed his eyes, and continued softly:
“We’re catching up, gradually.”
“Catching up — to that person?”
Young Shasta could not help mixing disbelief into his voice. Just three days ago, Bercouli had demonstrated his crushing swordsmanship. In the instant that his mentor’s arm flew high, spurting blood, the piercing feeling that chilled him to the bone like a pillar of ice still lingered today.
“I’ll be 50 this year. Even so, I still don’t feel like I’m holding my sword in the best way, let alone swinging. I think, in five years to ten years’ time, that won’t change even after I die.”
His mentor said quietly.
“…That way, we short-lived people are unable to achieve what that immortal living for more than 200 years can do. Although it’s pretty embarrassing, even in the instant that our swords cross, I still kept it in mind. But after fleeing following a miserable defeat, I realized that this is wrong. All this time, my mentor and all the Knights in the past have endlessly challenged that man, but it wasn’t all in vain… Biksul, what is the strongest swordsmanship?”
To this sudden question, Biksul answered reflexively:
“A «Slash of Thoughtlessness».”
“Very good. Through long years of training, you unify with your sword. One strike that you don’t think of how to cut, draw, or move would be the ultimate swordsmanship. My mentor taught me this, and I have taught you the same. But… Biksul, that’s not it. There’s something stronger. I’ve realized it since I’ve been cut by that monster.”
A hint of excitement floated onto his mentor’s aged, wrinkled face. Shasta maintained his leg-folded seating position, leaned forward, and asked:
“Something stronger… That is?”
“The opposite of thoughtlessness. Firm confidence. It’s the power of will, Biksul.”
Suddenly, his mentor stood up from the wooden floor, and waved his right arm stump vigorously.
“You see. Back then, I sliced down with a right diagonal slash. It was exactly a thoughtless attack; the fastest I have ever swung my sword in my life. At that moment when I drew my sword, I already had the advantage.”
“Yes… I thought so as well.”
“But… But. Normally, my sword should’ve bounced off his defense, but he pressed my sword back, and this arm was sliced off… Can you believe it, Biksul; in that moment, his sword didn’t even touch mine!”
Shasta kept silent, and shook his head dubiously.
“H… How could this…”
“It’s the truth. It was like… the very path of the sword, was completely altered by some unseen force. It’s not a spell, nor is it the Armament Full Control Art. We can only explain it like this: my Slash of Thoughtlessness was defeated by his willpower built up with two hundred years of hard training. Because he pictured where he wanted my sword to go so intensely, it became the unchanging truth!”
Shasta was unable to immediately believe his mentor’s words.
The power of will: something amorphous like that can defeat a real, heavy, rigid sword; no matter what, that can’t be real.
It looked like that Shasta’s mentor expected this reaction. Suddenly regaining the formality in his sitting position, on the glossy black floor, he calmly ordered:
“Okay, Biksul. I’ll teach you my last sword technique. — Cut me.”
“What… What are you saying! It’s difficult for you to…”
Have lived so long; Shasta could only swallow these words. Suddenly, his mentor’s eyes flashed with a strong light.
“Since I managed to live on, there is even more necessity for you to cut me. Since I’ve been defeated by that man in one stroke, I’m no longer the strongest in your heart. As long as I live, you’re unable to battle that man on equal footing. Cut, no, kill me, and stand at the same height as him… Bercouli!!”
His mentor finished and stood, holding his right arm stump as though he was gripping a sword.
“Now, stand up! Draw your sword, Biksul!!”
Biksul cut his mentor, and ended his life.
At the same time, he realized with his body the meaning of his mentor’s words.
The invisible sword that his mentor’s severed right hand held — the sword called [will], let out intense sparks as it crossed with Shasta’s sword, and marked an eternal wound on his face.
His face stained with tears and blood, the young Shasta stood at the zenith that exceeded the «Slash of Thoughtlessness» — on the border of the «Slash of Incarnation».
Time passed — Five years ago.
Shasta finally challenged the archenemy of the Dark Knights, Integrity Knight Commander Bercouli. He was but 37 years old, but he felt that his sword had achieved the highest.
His mentor had exchanged an arm for his life, but Shasta had no intention of returning defeated. Because Shasta had no apprentice as his successor. He did not want his young apprentice to have the executioner’s burden, and bear the destiny of having his life sliced away. He decided to put his life on the line, and sever the blood-stained cycle there and then.
The sword called [will] that carried with it all determination and realization, during its first cross with Bercouli’s, was not deflected at all. But in that instant, Shasta already predicted his own loss. He did not think that he could reproduce a slash of such power.
But, as they crossed swords, Bercouli laughed roughly:
“Your swordsmanship isn’t bad. If you only have murderous intent, you will be unable to block my sword. Go back and think long and hard about the meaning behind my words, and return after five years, little boy.”
Then the Integrity Knight Commander turned and left. But Shasta didn’t know why he was unable to swing his sword towards the Knight’s back, which looked full of openings.
To understand the meaning behind Bercouli’s words, it took a very long time. But he finally understood what happened now, five years later. Then, if Shasta had swung his sword only with hatred and the intent to kill, he would have immediately been defeated. Although it was only one round, he was able to clash with him because he held a realization much heavier than murderous intent.
That was — gratitude to the mentors who put their life on the line to pass on their knowledge, and a prayer for the young one who will become his successor.
Therefore, after receiving news of the Highest Minister’s death, Shasta immediately decided to negotiate for peace. He was confident that, if the other party was Bercouli, he would definitely accept.
For the same reason—
This Emperor Vector, who suddenly descended on Obsidia and decided to wage war without saying anything else, must be cut to death by Shasta himself.
Even as he kneeled and bowed his head, Shasta was shaping out the [Incarnation] that he must load his killing Slash with.
This Emperor that left the Dark World for hundreds of years and suddenly revived was a young man with white skin and golden hair, similar to that of a Human World resident. His figure and looks were not necessarily charismatic.
But, only his extraordinarily blue eyes revealed that the Emperor was not an ordinary man. Within those eyes was a [void]. A bottomless abyss sucking in all light. This man concealed a colossal and evil hunger.
If his exercised Power of Incarnation was engulfed by the Emperor’s void, the blade would be unable to reach him.
If that happened, Dark Knight Shasta would lose his life. But, his will would likely be succeeded by someone after him.
His only regret was that he was unable to convey his determination as he did not see Lipia yesterday. She might be busy with preparation before the attack, or staying in her important [home].
If he told her his intent to slay the Emperor, she would definitely not listen and beg to join him. It was better this way.
Shasta slowly inhaled, building up.
With his hand, he quietly touched the sword that was released from his belt and placed on the floor.
He was about 15 Mel from the throne. He only had to take two steps to reach it.
He must not let anyone notice. He must be thoughtless in drawing his sword.
Purifying and contracting his Power of Incarnation to the limit, he injected it into his sword through his fingers. Then, he emptied his body.
His left hand gripped the sword—
Just then.
The Emperor spoke nonchalantly with a sound as smooth and rigid as glass:
“Just — last night, someone infiltrated my bedroom. With a short knife concealed in their hair.”
A suppressed gasp wavered the air in the hall.
In the line of the other nine Feudal Lords to Shasta’s left, someone softly held their breath, another let out a low moan from the depths of their throat, and another shrank back into their thick robes. A few among the officers in the back made sounds as well.
Shasta was equally shocked. Maintaining his stance and style before slicing, he thought for an instant.
Besides himself, there were others who came to the conclusion of eliminating the Emperor. Unfortunately, the fact that the Emperor was still alive showed that they had failed — but which of the nine people sent out the assassin?
Not the five Demihuman generals. Passing over the Giant, Ogre, and Orc, even the shorter Goblins were unlikely to have dodged the eyes and ears of the guards and infiltrated the top floor.
If he considered the four Human generals, he could first exclude the young leader of the Fighters, Iskahn, and the leader of the Commerce and Industry Guild, Lengil. Iskahn was just a straightforward boy who purely aimed at improving his empty-handed combat to the maximum, and Lengil would love to make a lot of money out of the war.
Since the attacker had infiltrated the bedroom, the leader of the Assassin Guild, Fer Za, was the most suspicious, and he actually had a few hints for what that man was thinking, but it was puzzling that a short knife was used.
In the inner depths of dark caves, the Assassin Guild specially researched the third power apart from Dark Sorcery and Martial Arts: [Poison]. The race of Fer Za was an organization formed to survive, by those who were not gifted on Priority when it came to controlling weapons and spells. They had a unique restriction: their only allowed weapons were hidden needles and blow darts coated with poison. Short knives were not included.
In the same reasoning, the leader of the Dark Sorcerers kneeling right beside Shasta, D.I.L., would be out of the consideration. This woman with only desire for status, although she could have considered taking and raising high the Emperor’s head, becoming the dominator of the Land of Darkness, the Sorcerers under D would have used spells instead of a short knife.
Looking at it like that, the one who sent the assassin was not any one of the nine generals.
The one left — could only be himself, the Dark Knight Commander Shasta.
However, he had not the slightest memory of doing that. He had already decided, when he was going to eliminate the Emperor, he would swing his sword with his own life on the line. Of course he didn’t give an assassination order to any of his men, or even the decision that he had kept secret, not once—
No.
No…
Could it be?
After the Emperor finished his words, Shasta thought only for the blink of an eye, and noticed that his left finger on his sword grip had instantly become ice cold.
What was originally sharp, surging determination instantly transformed. Fear. Anxiety. Terror. Then — it became a certainty of impending misfortune.
Almost at the same time, Emperor Vector opened his mouth a second time:
“I don’t want to question right now, regarding the name of the one who sent the assassin. Souls that use their own power in a desire to obtain more power are excellent. If you want my head, cut me whenever my back is turned.”
The Emperor looked arrogantly at the bustling hall, and for the first time, an emotion floated onto his white face — a shallow, light smile.
“Of course, I hope that you all understand that this kind of gamble carries with it an equal price. For example… like this.”
From within his dark robes, a hand extended and made a soft gesture.
Then, set besides the throne, a small door on the wall east of Shasta opened soundlessly, and a servant girl shuffled in. She held a large silver bowl in her hands: inside was a cube-shaped object, but it was obscured with a black cloth, so it couldn’t be seen in detail.
The servant girl set the silver bowl in front of the throne, bowed her head respectfully to the Emperor, and exited through the door.
In the deafening silence, the Emperor wore a crooked smile, extended a toe, placed it against the cloth covering the bowl, and kicked it off.
Shasta, whose entire body, even his thoughts, were frozen, caught sight of —
An ice cube, as transparent as the most perfect crystal.
Sealed inside, was the forever sleeping face of his lover.
“Li…pi…”
Shasta’s lips moved soundlessly.
The coldness that enveloped his entire body disappeared, and was replaced with endlessly deep, dark emptiness in his heart.
Shasta knew that Dark Knight Lipia Zankehl was secretly running an orphanage. No matter the races, she sheltered and educated children who had lost their parents, siblings, and were about to die on the street. Shasta saw a hopeful future in Lipia’s actions.
Therefore, Shasta only told Lipia his own ideals. An endless dream in which the long-term state of war with the Human World would be broken, and a mutually supportive world in which there would be no need for constant snatching and seizing would be created.
But, his own words had driven Lipia to attempt to assassinate the Emperor, and ended in this grievous result. Although it was the Emperor who killed her — Shasta also had a hand in it.
Doubtlessly.
Although it was only for a blink of an eye, a storm of insurmountable guilt and remorse raged in Shasta’s empty-feeling chest.
Instantly, it became a black chunk of emotion.
Murderous intent.
Kill. He must kill that lightly smiling man sitting cross-legged on the throne, no matter what.
Even if he needed to put his own life, and the future of the Dark Territory on the line.
***
Now, who is that suspicious [Your Excellency]?
Gabriel watched the ten prostrated Leader Units under his eyes with a little bit of interest.
The master of the assassin woman whom she so loved. Gabriel had sucked dry all traces of the emotions that tasted of heavenly nectar, that had been released during the woman’s death: not just the yearning of the woman, he even understood the feelings that [Your Excellency] had for the woman herself — although he just analyzed the emotional patterns as data.
Therefore, he was confident that when he showed the woman’s head, the one called Your Excellency would definitely take action. He would mercilessly execute the opposing, rebellious Unit, and increase the loyalty of the rest of the Units through fear. No different from the simulation games he had played to kill time in the real world.
What a bunch of pitiful and happy people.
Although they have real souls, their intelligence is limited, and can be reproduced as much as one wants even if they are killed and killed again. There will eventually be a day, when the Underworld, its Mainframe, and the Light Cubes are mine, the hunger that has so pained me ever since I was young will be quenched.
Leaning his face against his wrist supported by the throne armrest, Gabriel waited, relaxed.
He was a little more than 15 meters from the Units. No matter what attack from any weapon, he could easily counter it with the sword equipped on his left waist.
Of course, he would be unable to deal with a [System Call] prefixed command attack. But Gabriel’s anxiety had already been wiped clean before they logged in.
The super account «God of Darkness Vector» was set up for RATH workers to undertake forced operations to the Dark Territory. Therefore, the HP called Life would be massive, the equipped sword would be the strongest; and on top of all, Vector possessed a cheating attribute to prevent all commands targeting him.
As Gabriel was protected under so many conditions, even as the leftmost Knight out of the ten Units, clad in jet-black armor, bent his back violently.
Even as his entire body was covered with a halo like a light shadow.
Even as he saw the Knight’s left hand gripping his sword’s scabbard as fast as lightning, flicking up his head at the same time, sharp eyes flashing an inhuman crimson from the middle of his iron face—
He did not fully understood what had happened sequentially as he failed to realize the two facts below:
This world, was not only a program executed by a physical server, but also a «Real Dream» that was built with the same photons which human Fluctlights were made out of.
And, because of this, the pure and intense murderous intent created by the Knight in black, from his Light Cube to the Main Visualizer, and through the photon communication circuit, could reach the STL Gabriel was using.
***
In the middle of Shasta’s blood-red vision, he could only see the Emperor’s figure.
With the fastest movement he had ever made in his life, he drew his sword with his right hand.
What released from its scabbard was the Divine Instrument he had inherited from his mentor, the longsword «Hazy Mist», but not in its normal form of a gray blade. True to its name, a thick mist like a night haze encircled the long blade, winding into a vortex.
The logic behind this phenomenon, was the same as the ultimate ability of the Integrity Knights that was indiscernible even under long years of research — the Armament Full Control Art, but all of that seemed insignificant.
“KILL!!”
With an instantaneous scream, Shasta put all rage, hatred, and grief onto his blade, and heavily swung it over his head
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