As expected, the closer we got to Tiamat’s base, the greater the density of the creatures became.
“Captain! New group of enemies at two o’clock!”
“Nozomu! They’re coming from behind too!”
[Do not let the enemies get close to the Holy Lance!]
[Air/Upper Sky Caution! Blessings/Miracles/Divine Protection!]
Our current situation has us barely close enough to read the ship’s name inscribed on the side of the “Great Mother,” but the monsters scattered among the forest seem to have detected us and have commenced wave after wave of attacks, leaving us no time to rest amidst fierce combat.
“Damn it! I’ll clear out the front! Everyone, get out of my way!”
[Evacuate/Run!!]
The Sylvanians responsible for direct cover fire were running off, leaving the front wide open, which I promptly cleared using the Positron Cannon dialed down to 15% output. Upon being struck by the heavy particles, the Hovs and Myrmecoleos melted and fell to the ground.
After several trial shots, it became apparent that this output was sufficient for defeating the enemies. The fusion reactor embedded within those large fliers—hereafter referred to as Gryups—was compact, about the size of a clenched fist, and had a rather modest output, favoring durability over instantaneous power, which, combined with the low performance of the “Holy Lance,” meant no rapid-fire capability.
Well, fundamentally, a charged particle cannon isn’t meant to be used on the planet’s surface. It’s supposed to be an up-close option for space-faring ships meant for small debris destruction, star fighters, or mobile weapon interception during space combat. On the ground, it consumes too much power with too many operational drawbacks.
Though irrelevant to the main topic, this complaint aside, there is no need to vaporize the enemy with excessive firepower, so I’m reducing the output and adjusting the particle compression just enough to deliver a “roasting” level of firepower—but…
“Entering cooldown!!”
[“Holy Lance” Cooling! Hold on tight!!]
[Counter their attack!!]
Even with the adjustments, after five seconds of firing, the forced cooling kicks in, making continuous fire impossible! That last volley took out about a hundred, but it truly feels never-ending.
Honestly, looking at the damage, it’s unlikely the “Tiamat 25” production facilities are operating at full capacity, but it’s clear that they’re mass-producing these creatures without mercy.
Damn it, we’re deep in enemy territory with less than fifty troops. Can’t you show at least a little restraint?!
I pulled out a Coil Gun from my pistol holster with my left hand—two backups ready, in case, due to this being an expedition—and unleashed a sweeping burst on the advancing group of Myrmecoleos from behind in standard mode.
Each shot is fired with a slight delay. It may look like I’m carelessly spraying bullets horizontally to the casual observer, but within my heightened field of vision, each shot hits its target with precision, destroying their heads.
And yet, like the rear guard stepping over or scattering the dead bodies of their allies, they keep approaching without pause. No matter how many I kill, they keep coming. The twenty-five rounds of ammunition were quickly expended, and the magazine discharged itself automatically due to battery depletion.
“Ah, haha!”
After taking the gun out of my mouth, I quickly ejected a fresh magazine and reloaded. After the internal automatic loading device chambered a new round, I fired another burst to gradually slow down the rear assault.
Still, the enemy’s momentum does not die down, and they approached as close as 30m. The Hovs carrying felled trees were sweeping away the corpses of the creatures as they got closer, and Tech Gob was responding with bayonet-attached Coil Guns to address the situation.
[Destroy the head! Aim for the head!!]
[Don’t use the bayonet yet!]
[Whoaaah! Whoaaaah!!]
The cacophony of gunshots and bolt-action sounds filled the air as the Hovs were shot down.
However, as the Tech Gobs entered a state of panic, their accuracy decreased, and they were firing far more ammunition than necessary, significantly reducing efficiency.
Ah, damn it, at this rate, we’re running out of ammunition and resources.
“…! Cooldown complete! Selene! Which direction has the most enemies?!”
“Nine o’clock!”
[I’m firing! Everyone, clear out!!]
I pushed back the Tech Gobs deployed in the diagonal rear and welcomed the fearless army with the heavy particle beam. Watching their figures burn and melt as they took a few more steps before collapsing brought back memories of the undead army I fought in VR games.
Ah, already? When did I start adventuring into dungeons overrun with Draugr?!
“And this, already on cooldown again!? Did I overdo it!?”
Firing straight for two seconds at the nine o’clock direction made the front line melt away instantly, and the rear line was obliterated like ice on a hot summer day. In return, the “Holy Lance” heated up like asphalt under the blazing sun, quickly entering a cooldown phase once more.
Damn it, too many rapid shots, maybe. Cooldown… one hundred and eighty seconds!?
Too long! It feels instantaneous when you’re spacing out, but on the battlefield, it feels like eternal time. Waiting for ultimates with such long cool downs is something you just can’t do!!
“Shit, setting a timer for one eighty seconds! Selene! The direction with the highest numbers!”
‘Again going out of control… It’s six o’clock! GaIAteia is engaging them! T. Osamu’s divine blessings to us!!’
There’s no time to stand around doing nothing. I left the “Holy Lance” on the spot and sprinted at full speed.
“Make a roar! Watch out for friendly fire!”
“Nozomu?!”
Centered on me at the six o’clock direction, Galatea and two Tech Gobs, with three Sylvanians, had created a line of defense using fallen trees, laying down a barrage of bullets. She was effectively coordinating each shot one after the other to minimize wasted ammo, displaying the quality of a true knight class warrior.
Yet, they appeared to be struggling under the pressure, with the enemy within 30m, a range where they could soon close in even with reloading.
“Alright, let’s go!”
Jumping over the fallen tree, I unsheathed the Coil Gun mid-air and fired. Thanks to the fire control system recognizing my trajectory, it accurately adjusted the bullet projection. With the VR gamer’s intuition, I made minor adjustments, allowing the bullet to perfectly hit the head of the leading Hov. A second shot followed to ensure a clean detonation akin to a rotten watermelon. With the momentum of my fall, I landed on my back.
I then proceeded to use a heavy mode projectile on the knee of the pursuing Hov, causing it to fall and obstruct the following troops while simultaneously crushing it with the weight of my allies. I then systematically delivered final blows to the fallen group’s heads with a series of precise shots.
Then, the display indicated I had exhausted my remaining rounds. Returning the coil gun to the pistol harness, I glanced at the timer in the corner of my vision, only to find there was still a full one hundred forty-five seconds left for the cooldown to complete.
“Tch, and it’s only been thirty-five seconds! It’s been more than sixty already!”
‘The clock does not lie, Captain!!’
Ah, this is that phenomenon where the more you want time to pass quickly, the slower it feels. It’s not because I’ve maximized my computer clock rate; it’s a real illusion of time slowing down.
Familiar feelings arose. During mandatory education within the virtual space and my night-shift jobs, I experienced this. The clock’s hands wouldn’t move, and it felt like I was dying.
Recalling the nostalgia of that idyllic virtual space from the 1990s, I drew my blade, polished to a characteristic shine by the master craftsmen of nanomachines, engaging the Hovs and Myrmecoleos.
I split torsos in half, decapitated heads, kicked approaching ones to twist their necks, and relentlessly cut down foe after foe.
“Ah, incredible… You look just like a berserker warrior…]
I didn’t rely on any softwares for my swordsmanship. It’s VR-instilled, exclusively mine. Following the textbook for close combat protocols is useless; my technique is the ideal prey.
A blade is the finest tool that utilizes all five limbs freely and adaptably. It’s no wonder those with white close combat badges are nicknamed “Samurai Enforcers.”
“YAHHHH!!”
With a powerful swing fueled by my war cry, the Hov was bisected longitudinally, avoiding a torrent of blood with a half-step, while simultaneously blinding another target and delivering another devastating strike.
The automatic warning for the maximum usage limit of the mono-molecular blade sounded earlier than the timer I set initially.
Damn, time’s up already. Still, even without the mono-molecular enhancement, the sword’s cutting edge remains as effective as regular steel, so I’ll continue the melee combat.
Originally, in VR, I didn’t rely on luxury items like mono-molecular blades. I played games that judged hits severely without a sharp edge, whether in fantasy or samurai settings. Don’t underestimate me!.
‘Don’t you have an Alpha-Level Melee Badge for this reason?’
“What a buzzkill! … Wait, was I projecting my thoughts!?”
As I rebutted Selene’s comment and decapitated a Myrmecoleo—on closer inspection, the head seemed to belong to another feline species rather than a lion—a loud explosion occurred five steps away, shattering a Hov’s head.
“Don’t accidentally hit Nozomu! Fire! Fire away!”
[The companion to the Lord/God, you’re outrageous!]
[Don’t let the soldier wielding the Holy Lance die!!]
The support fire was welcome, and while they took out distant foes, I continued to relentlessly slice through the bigger targets.
And at last, the timer rang.
“Selene!!”
‘Twelve o’clock direction! More than two hundred units!’
Damn, that’s too many! I returned the blade to its sheath while running, leaving the dwindling number of enemies in the six o’clock direction to Galatea and her team, racing towards the “Holy Lance.”
“Take care of it!”
“Got it!”
What a relief, having knights on my side. They’re always dependable and resolute, no matter the world.
“Too many… setting output to max, eradicating them!”
‘Firing at maximum will require over three hundred seconds for the next cooldown!’
“There’s no time to pick off two hundred plus enemies one by one. Can’t be helped!”
The power charge of the “Holy Lance” was full, with the particle accelerator working at maximum efficiency, generating a particle ray of invisible spears.
“Front, everyone get back!”
As the allies guarding the twelve o’clock direction retreated, I fired, evaporating all the enemies in one go.
“Phew… phew… phew…”
Damn, I’m exhausted. It’s not right to continue a two-minute full-speed run and then lift an eighty-kilogram weapon. My muscles are overloaded with fatigue molecules, protesting heavily against the overuse.
Damn engineers, for a mere diplomatic prosthetic body, there was no need for such a detailed recreation.
The “Holy Lance,” which underwent another long cooling period after its heat release panels were opened, clattered to the ground. Sweating profusely due to the strenuous exercise and close proximity to the radiating heat, I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand, spreading the clinging white ichor over my extremities, its rank smell reaching my nose.
The battlefield’s scent, it’s been a while. It carries a vividness unlike the two thousand years’ worth I experienced in VR.
I reloaded the Coil Gun, which only had two magazines left, making me nervous, as I looked around. Nearly all the enemies surrounding us had fallen, with only a few remaining, systematically being eliminated by the Coil Guns.
The ground was covered in white ichor everywhere.
“Fuuu… We somehow won…”
‘Captain! Not yet! Approaching high-heat source reaction!’
With an exclamation, even before I could voice my surprise, a shadow leapt into the vaporizing trace left by the charged particle cannon.
It was a mass of fleshy segmented legs.
With eight legs made of a grotesque mix of armor plates and swollen flesh, its pus-leaking body was fused with a head resembling an enormous crusher.
It stood about two and a half meters tall, and about five meters long without the legs.
“Oi, give me a break,”
Confronted with the massive multi-legged tank-like creature, I broke into a cold, anxiety-filled sweat unrelated to my elevated body temperature.
Is this the nameless monster?
Its awe-inspiring presence left everyone trembling on the battlefield…
—
[Planet Exploration Footnote] Automated combat protocols execute predetermined patterns and actions to precisely follow thought commands. In shooting systems, these protocols are quite effective, but for the mech-warriors with Beta-level close combat badges or higher—known as “Samurai” for their superior sword skills—textbook-style movements make them easy prey.
For this reason, engaging in ship-board close combat against mech-warriors is considered akin to suicide while paradoxically, mech-warriors with high technical skills tend to favor close combat within ships.
The next update is planned around 15:00 on 2024/07/14.
