A Strong Body Houses a Strong Spirit (2)
A proper Super must be deployed as quickly as possible to hold the line.
Objective: Deploy at least one S-grade or higher Super and at least one destroyer-class or higher vessel. Annihilate or subdue the enemy before they destroy the Plant's core.
And right there, stamped boldly across the top of that quest, was the word Advanced.
The fact that a proper high-graaaade quest had finally landed in my lap put me in a surprisingly good mood.
"So then, Oxianor — what is it you want?"
Her voice resonated in my mind, formal and measured as ever.
"Precisely what I have already told you. I wish for you to subdue or annihilate the Xenobia Empire's special forces before they destroy the Plant core."
"All right. I'll take the job."
Quest accepted, I called for Partia, who would still be at the base training grounds. A short while later she appeared, dressed in that same spare nun's habit as the day before. Remarkably, despite having been mid-training only moments earlier, she didn't show so much as a single drop of sweat — just stood there, perfectly composed.
Level: 11
Type: Anti-Personnel / Close-Range
Traits: Fanaticism, Melee
No stat changes… but she's picked up one extra trait.
I checked her level first — the last thing I needed was to hurl a precious SSS-grade asset onto the battlefield at level one and watch her die screaming. Satisfied that nothing looked critically wrong, I nodded and calmly laid out the situation for her.
Partia listened, then immediately bowed her head in acknowledgment.
"What would the Savior have me do?"
"Well… that Plant I just mentioned. I need you to go there and deal with the Xenobia Empire's special forces."
"Understood. If that is the Savior's will, this humble servant shall devote her entire being to crushing the enemy."
The way she spoke — like some medieval knight swearing a sacred oath — was genuinely reassuring. I greenlit her for the quest without hesitation.
But the moment our Partia actually hit the field, I realized I couldn't feel the same easy confidence I had with Ignis and the others. I still didn't know the full extent of Partia's capabilities. A quiet unease settled in, so I pulled up the live video feed that tracked her in real time.
And what appeared on that screen was…
Squelch. Squelch. Squish!
"Hmm. The ground here appears rather unstable."
Slither… slip.
"Moreover… the kaiju terminals seem to be getting in the way quite naturally."
Oh.
Against a backdrop that looked ripped straight out of some alien-ripping SF horror game, a nun strode calmly along her path — writhing tentacles be damned. Something about the image called to mind a pilgrim setting out on a holy crusade or a path of penance, and I found myself watching with genuine interest.
More than anything, I needed to learn her combat style. Knowing how Partia fought would tell me how to deploy her in future battles against other players or factions.
That pure, practical curiosity lasted about five minutes into the feed… right up until she passed through a corridor thickly lined with what looked like veins and hunks of living flesh.
"Enemy contact!"
"How are they already here…? But there's only one of them! Prepare to engage!"
"Oh my."
"Oh."
Deep inside the Plant's labyrinthine structure, she had stumbled upon five Xenobia special forces operatives who looked thoroughly lost.
"To think I might guide these little lambs into the embrace of the great God, according to the Savior's will… ah, what a truly noble calling."
Crack! Crunch! Crack-crack-crack!
Those grotesque sounds came from Partia — the same Partia whose chest was, shall we say, generously proportioned. As the noises rose, her billowing nun's habit suddenly ballooned outward… and then the body that had stood under 160 centimeters exploded upward into a roughly three-meter giant.
A giant packed solid with muscle. A figure so saturated with testosterone it looked like a demon had taken up residence across her back.
And in that moment, I understood with painful clarity why those bastards on the gallery had told me to just raise her and see.
Partia's transformation into a muscle monster was a visual shock of the highest order. Fortunately, I was watching through a screen — one step removed, psychologically. Those poor Space Elf friends of ours had no such luxury.
"Eek?!"
"W-what the hell is that?!"
"A monster— n-no, a new bioweapon from the kaiju?! Open fire!"
With zero time to prepare themselves, they found themselves face-to-face with a hideous ogre — no, a muscle-bound freak that looked like it had walked straight out of Fist of the North Star or JoJo's Bizarre Adventure, the kind of specimen built to throw around Hokuto Shinken like it was nothing. They recoiled in pure terror and opened up on Partia the Muscle with every weapon they had…
"Haaaah… To look upon this flesh, tempered and re-tempered so that it might serve the Savior, and dare reduce it to the level of mere weaponry…"
BOOOOM!!
"You blasphemous wretch!!!"
"Oh, shit."
Amazingly, Partia carried herself with the force of a priest who looked like he could dual-wield bayonets — or cave in skulls with a holy scripture. She started by bringing a knife-hand strike straight down through the skull of the Space Elf charging her, splitting his head clean open.
"This Partia shall bestow salvation upon you unbelievers!!"
That body overflowing with testosterone still produced the same pure, delicate voice. And the operatives who looked like they could each captain a small pirate crew of their own were swept away in an instant. A genuine full-body shiver ran through me.
But the chills didn't last long.
"Ohhh, look upon me, Savior!"
"Huh?"
"I redeem this little lamb and return them to the embrace of God!!"
CRUNCH!
"Y-you monster!"
"O Lord, extend Thy hand of salvation unto this little lamb possessed by a wicked devil!!!"
THWACK!
"Oh…"
Oh, holy hell.
She had descended upon the remaining Space Elves as a merciless incarnation of violence — and yet she kept going on about granting them salvation, crushing them with nothing but bare hands and bare feet.
"Fall back and suppress with firepower!"
"The Savior is watching. Why would I ever dodge mere bullets?"
"What."
"Praise the great Savior, little lamb."
Somehow — through the power of what she called her "faith" — she was tanking incoming long-range gunfire with something that looked an awful lot like a protective aura.
"This is the Empire's prized custom powered armor, you pathetic human!"
BANG!
"What in the—?!"
"To place your faith in machines alone… no wonder an unhealthy spirit has taken root within you."
"Impossible! Why won't you die?!"
"'Piety,' and 'Nanomachines,' son!"
Against a powered-armor trooper even larger than her already gigantic frame, she casually dropped the piety-and-nanomachines line and proceeded to beat him into paste with her bare fists. She was fighting with a machismo so far beyond anything I'd imagined that the delicate, girlish Partia from just minutes ago simply evaporated from my mind.
And entirely separate from all of that — from where I was sitting, the whole display was almost unbearably much.
"The Savior is watching over me!!"