When we made our presence known at the Kingdom of the Rabbits in hopes of recruitment, it turned into an incredible festival-like commotion.
I’m not the protagonist here—it’s Selene, who has acquired the puppet chassis.
“Captain! Please make it stop! I’m feeling quite uncomfortable, and I feel terrible about Tisy!”
“Well, I doubt she’s ever been quite this enveloped by all the ‘fluff.’”
Though I responded lightly, at the moment Selene was being enthusiastically welcomed and practically mauled by the overexcited Rabbits.
[Little goddess!]
[She must be a sister of the goddess!]
[She’s so small, she must be the youngest one!]
[The goddess has been sent to us!]
The crowd was erupting with excitement like this, and though it felt wrong to interrupt their joy, I watched over the proceedings. Selene herself looked as if she might be placed on an altar at any moment, but the Sylvanians aren’t quite so forceful a species. You can trust them on that. They even let me walk around freely without locking me up, which is more than I can say for some.
Sure, I get dragged into religious ceremonies from time to time, but they don’t shut me up in a box or anything.
[What a momentous day this is! Not only does the goddess’s consort return, but the little goddess also descends upon us. Long life is indeed wondrous, isn’t it?]
While the elder was stomping his feet and chanting beside me—yes, since Selene arrived, my standing slipped down a notch—I sipped my bitter tea and nodded in agreement. With the sensory filtering capabilities of this prosthetic body, it’s easy to make it look like I’m enjoying the drink to the fullest, which makes things easier.
[Among the stars, Tisy watches over you from above.]
[Truly, as the sacred stories recount: among the stars reside many gods who watch over and love all beings. Let us commemorate today as a new day of celebration and pass it down forever.]
While the elder was getting emotional and tearing up, I discreetly questioned him through the translator.
[So, how about those volunteers?]
[Yes, they initially said ten would suffice, but far too many are stepping forward, and we’re at a loss.]
Hmm, the Sylvanians were already brimming with morale and enthusiasm, but Selene’s puppet chassis has sent their excitement off the charts. They seem desperate to follow along. As scouts, they’re ideal due to their small target profile, but their reluctance to wear headgear does worry me a bit.
We’ve already lost three of them. If we lose any more, I’ll have no face to show Tisy.
On the other hand, keeping them far from the front lines might upset them. It’s quite the predicament.
[Divine consort, can’t you do something? Not five times, but perhaps thirty people?]
[Well, forty Tech Gobs have already risen to the occasion, but the vehicles are packed…]
Regarding the conquest of the Death Valley, formerly known as the “5689th Development Base,” the Tech Gobs are also eager, and a fair number of warriors have joined the ranks.
While I was away, the tribal leaders convened and appointed a new overall Tribal Chief—apparently, it turned out to be Gengelgiz of the Balgenkok Tribe. The result was a successful unification of their forces. With the threat of “The Great Mother’s Spawn” gone, the Tech Gobs’ defensive capacities slightly overlapped, leading to this situation.
Originally, warriors constituted about 5% of the Tech Gob population—a little abnormal, given that even considering their roles as hunters, the ideal percentage for professional soldiers is less than 1%. This balance was maintained forcefully because of the “Spawns” threat, but now, with that gone, they must figure out what to do.
Of course, it goes without saying that this isn’t an attempt to recklessly kill off surplus soldiers.
Rather, they wish to allow those retiring warriors to gain merit before transitioning to other roles. It seems there’s a desire to let them distinguish themselves in this battle as a final gesture of honor—a way to reward their service as warriors until now.
This is why we’ve equipped everyone with the newly upgraded Type II Enhanced Exoskeletons, and there’s an adequate supply of Coil Guns. I aim to provide everyone with a fair opportunity for martial distinction.
Still, the problem remained: Dicotomus-4, which was designed to carry a maximum of twenty, was filling up fast. Adding thirty Sylvanians would clearly surpass capacity. It’s somewhat disconcerting having only one vehicle suitable for heavy transport.
On top of it all, since these are armored vehicles meant to rush forward under remote control on the frontlines, we must consider what happens if they’re heavily damaged. Packing them to the brim could create chaos on the return journey.
[Well, they can cling on top, right?]
[Mounted tactics?! No way, that’s risky if we’re ambushed…]
Elder, your adorable face shouldn’t propose such dangerous things. Sure, we use Tank Descent tactics when our legs are crushed by artillery fire, but that’s a last resort, not something we do lightly during the approach.
What if this enemy is armed with grenades or mortars? One explosion could turn the top of the armor plate into minced meat. I’m not keen on that possibility.
“And, uh… Can you hear me?”
“I hear you, Galatea.”
From a little distance away, where she was staying with the other guards, Galatea contacted me via radio communication. Thanks to her successful mechanization and the software installed in her auxiliary brain, she can now communicate using compressed radio waves.
Though her brain remains organic, so while she’s become incredibly fast at typing emails, responses from my side, which get translated into formal language, take longer. It’s not as smooth as the interaction between me and Selene.
“Would drawings by lot work?”
“Look at their excitement. Do you really think that would help?”
“…Mouf mouf is nice…”
Incidentally, it seems the filter settings aren’t fully optimized yet, and sometimes her inner thoughts leak. I did teach her how to use it, but she’s still getting the hang of it, and occasionally there are some slip-ups.
“Captain! Please don’t joke around! Help me soon! My fur… It’s getting stuck in the joints!!”
“Ah, that’s probably due to the toy-grade sealants on the joints. Got it.”
After clearing my throat to regain everyone’s attention, I announced that they should leave Selene, who’s now thoroughly covered in fur, alone. The Sylvanians seemed to realize their transgression and respectfully returned her to her podium before retreating quietly.
“That was awful!”
“Didn’t you say you dislike all this moe-moe?”
“There’s a limit. Also, I’m a cat person.”
That’s right. After giving it some consideration, she concluded that we might manage if we limited the troop count to twenty-five.
This was thanks to the completion of upgrades to the “Tiamat 25,” which enabled us to secure the use of one “multi-legged tank.”
Though some critical components were missing—like the anti-gravity unit or the data link pack—the reduced armor plating and less than half the main gun’s power make it feel more like a half-scale model. Still, its output is comparable to that “nameless monstrosity” that once cornered us. Come to think of it, wasn’t that beast made by modifying the internal systems of this very unit?
Shaped somewhat like a scorpion, the Type I Multi-Legged Light Combat Tank is equipped with an “Anti-Armor Railgun” at its tail. Due to its bulk, it boasts an immense payload capacity. Though classified as a lightly armed combat vehicle mainly used for rear patrol and accompanying combat engineers, its ability to carry numerous supply bags can indeed be utilized to enhance transport capacity. This was likely Selene’s plan.
Though loading the tank with supplies and the armored vehicles with personnel feels somewhat backward, her calculations ensure that the effort remains within manageable limits.
“If we use the supplies on the tank and jettison the empty bags along the way, based on the distance we should… yeah, barely manage.”
“For someone who usually speaks with such precision, you’re being unusually vague there, Selene.”
“I’m exhausted. Now I understand how the young rabbits feel when they’re offered as tribute.”
Nevertheless, having undergone the trial of being excessively cuddled, Selene’s divine message caused the Rabbits to commence their unique selection process. Their version of rock-paper-scissors involves jumping vertically several times with the final position of the legs determining the gesture—closed for rock, vertically apart for scissors, and horizontally apart for paper—a spectacle that was heartwarming to watch.
“Awww…”
“Indeed.”
While Galatea, who hadn’t yet been allowed to cuddle the Sylvanians, softly murmured in agreement—by the way, being cuddled is apparently quite humiliating for adult Sylvanians—we observed the unfolding contest. Eventually, it boiled down to a climactic final match between two contestants, and the crowd began to heat up.
Apparently, one was renowned for long-distance shooting skills while the other was known for their swordsmanship.
Though it’s heartening to see they’ve continued training in our absence, their fervor seems a tad excessive. Hopefully, the quaint Sylvanian image that Tisy cherished hasn’t been tarnished.
After a fierce battle involving seven rounds of rock-paper-scissors—apparently, they were reading each other’s moves and countering accordingly—one of the long-distance shooting experts emerged victorious. Thus, we had our contingent of twenty-five volunteer soldiers.
Even though it’s slightly more than anticipated, let’s go with it. The number of gun barrels equates to firepower, and the newly produced submachine guns will prove helpful for the Sylvanians too. Given the likelihood of close-quarters combat, they should have a chance to prove their worth if ground combat turns messy.
Still, I wish they’d don helmets… Perhaps if we frame it as a divine request, they’d comply?
“I understand, I’ll try to negotiate with them.”
“Thank you. If the enemy uses grenades and the like, their heads need protection—it’s crucial.”
As much as I feel guilty burdening a visibly exhausted Selene with another request, it’s for the sake of ensuring that the Rabbits, loved by my companion, return home safely. We must do everything within our power.
[Oh, and divine consort, there are many new parents who wish to receive blessings for their newborns.]
[Blessings? Well, I suppose that shouldn’t be too much to ask…]
[The sacred stories mention how the goddess once kissed the foreheads of firstborns to celebrate their births.]
“Still working?! We’ve got preparations to attend to!”
I feel sorry for Selene, who seems emotionally drained, but since this appears to be a time-honored ritual, I hope she’ll endure it for Tisy’s sake.
Though I digitally bowed deeply to my partner, her response was a pouting face…
[Planet Exploration Note] The Sylvanians’ high morale stems from their longing to preserve the return of the gods, but their pastoral instincts remain unaltered.
As it’s the Obon season, the next update will be around 15:00 on August 12, 2024.
