Return
───Grrrrr.
Invasion-type centipedes, having spotted their prey, slithered rapidly across the ground. Their bodies, stretching over ten meters long, were repulsive enough on sight alone. Dozens of pairs of legs churned the dirt in a dizzying blur, while reddish eyes—barely believable as belonging to a living creature—clacked as they tracked the Holy Knight.
Netoru gripped Karen's control stick at the sight. Steadying his breath and focusing his mind, the Holy Knight's five senses flowed naturally into him through the stick in his hand. The thunder of nearby cannon fire, the vibrations from the centipedes, the feel of soil under the Holy Knight's feet. Even the wind blowing from somewhere and the warmth of sunlight overhead. Everything was sharper than ever.
Thanks to that, he knew instinctively. Their coupling wavelength match rate had climbed another level higher.
Satisfaction welled up, but Netoru honed his consciousness to a razor's edge. Breath even, stray thoughts discarded. In this moment, his focus was solely on the killing intent: how to slaughter the enemy.
The Holy Knight was a second body, an avatar crafted so knights wouldn't fall behind the times. Interpreted differently, it was a massive bio-weapon that could recreate everything knights had built over thousands of years in this world.
That's why Holy Knight pilots could battle bugs armed with guns and cannons. What would be mere myth or fairy tale in the 'real' world existed here for real, making it possible—not impossible—to wield the mythic power accumulated over eons.
Netoru tensed the Holy Knight's legs. Sword in hand, he locked eyes on his first target. The motions flowed as naturally as a knight steeling for battle.
It wasn't some exceptional skill on Netoru's part. The Holy Knight's controls were a connection interface mediated by the female pilot; the male simply gripped the stick and poured in his consciousness. That's why it could be a knight's second body. No complex maneuvers needed—just fight as you would with your own flesh.
───!
A massive crack spiderwebbed the ground beneath its foot, and Netoru launched forward. He swung the sword horizontally in one fluid arc. The blade met the centipede's signature hard carapace and iron plating, but it posed no real obstacle.
Netoru simply swung the Holy Knight's sword as it was, cleaving the foe.
"...One down."
The bisected centipede collapsed with a grotesque screech, spilling fluids as its heavy body hit the dirt. Without pause, Netoru scanned for the next.
Some curled their tails like scorpions, exposing hidden machine guns. Shells encrusted with dirt parted to reveal cold barrels, swiveling toward targets. But their aiming was sluggish. Bullets flew fast enough that even superhuman knights couldn't easily dodge—but without a proper lock, they meant nothing.
Humans predicted enemy moves; bugs just tracked with their eyes and fired.
Before the muzzles could align on him, Netoru scooped up the dead centipede's corpse and charged. The instant he did, flames spat from the bugs' guns.
───Bang! Bang! Bang!
Bullets carved eerie trails through the air. Most whizzed harmlessly past, and even those that came close were blocked by the corpse in Netoru's grip. Closing in on the gunner cluster in a flash, he swung without mercy—severing the first upright tail, then stomping the head to pulp underfoot.
Another down. Netoru pressed on relentlessly. When the shield-corpse shredded, he swapped for a fresh one.
───Kieeeek!
The fight was one-sided. The centipedes couldn't land a hit on Netoru's unpredictable movements, slaughtered before they could react. Bugs knew no fear, so no retreat—but that changed nothing. Their fearlessness doomed them to unilateral defeat. Without doubt, they never questioned their tactics.
Living yet mechanical in combat, their guns chased only afterimages.
How many had he cut down? With the last one before him, Netoru raised the blood-smeared Holy Knight sword and murmured quietly.
"Last one."
2.
With the escort centipedes annihilated, nothing blocked the path ahead. Only long-range bombardment spiders remained.
Climbing the hill to hunt them, Netoru noted the cannon fire had stopped. They'd sensed danger and fled.
Unlike other bugs, long-range bombardment spiders bolted when their safety was threatened. They had to—their defenses were nil, leaving them vulnerable up close. Get near, and they couldn't even attack. Honestly, approach and anyone could kill them, Holy Knight or not. Provided you could land a solid blow on that massive frame.
Maybe the superhuman knights called human weapons could manage it.
'Still slow as ever.'
Netoru checked the spiders' positions. Moving steadily, but sluggish. No need to rush; he could catch them easily without sprinting.
So he advanced the Holy Knight leisurely. Karen needed a breather anyway—intense combat strained female pilots. Strategically, too, giving the spiders time to call for help was better than rushing them now.
───Did we succeed?
Rien's voice came through, having spotted their movements.
"Yeah. Just gotta catch 'em now."
───Well done. But... are you dragging this out on purpose?
"Gotta let 'em call for bug backup."
───Heh. Good call. Their assault's weakening already.
Rien laughed—rare for her. Come to think of it, he'd never heard her laugh before. That happy? Things must've been dire.
Long-range bombardment spiders signaled nearby bugs for aid when threatened—a fixed pattern, like programming. It disrupted attacking bugs' coordination. Sure, it drew more here, but distance blunted the threat. No bug could cover 30km instantly.
Just kill the signalers before reinforcements arrived.
By the time Karen's once-pristine Holy Knight—now slathered red in centipede blood—crested the hill, Netoru spotted them: the fleeing spiders, lugging cannon barrels as big as themselves. From above, scuttling up the slope, they looked comical, wobbling on the incline.
Netoru watched a moment, then kicked off in pursuit.
What followed wasn't even a fight. Hunting bombardment spiders was straightforward: ram your sword into their backsides as they ran.
Solo-wiping the pack, Netoru halted the Holy Knight in a suitable spot, popped the cockpit, and took a break.
The battle wasn't over. But he uncoupled and watched casually. No point pushing further—victory was sealed.
Bugs that turned at the spiders' call were getting crushed helplessly. Cannon fire and gunfire echoed nearby; from the hill overlooking the field, the fight was in plain view.
As Netoru observed silently, Karen crawled from the cockpit, voicing her gripe.
"...Why'd you stop here? Battle's not over. Can't you see 'em fighting down there?"
"What, wanna jump back in?"
"Obviously."
Karen glared, brows furrowed. Couldn't stand him slacking while the unit fought.
"Hm."
Netoru just chuckled at her response. Good heart, but she needed to learn restraint.
"Karen. You sure you can keep fighting? It ain't your body out there."
"What're you talking about? I'm still full of energy..."
"Really?"
Netoru placed a hand on her shoulder. As Karen tilted her head curiously—
"...Huh?"
Her legs buckled suddenly, body pitching forward. Netoru caught her effortlessly. Limp as a doll in his arms, no strength left.
Inevitable. The mana nerve system he'd forcibly doped was at its limit.
Holding her close, he whispered in her ear.
"You really gonna push in this state? Karen, you've done plenty. Rest up."
"Wh-what... My body... why...?"
"Told ya. Not treatment—doping."
As Karen panicked at the unfamiliar weakness, Netoru patted her back in praise.
Soon after, the battle ended safely. Unable to pilot further, Karen and Netoru returned to base with unit help.
The mission—originally a light jaunt—finally concluded.