The End of the Human Era

The end of the human era had arrived.

"What...?"

Freira echoed, her face splattered with blood.

Yeah. I wanted to ask the same thing. Why the hell was I stuck dealing with this bullshit?

The affinity quest seemed like a total bust. I'd fulfilled my duty by protecting the grand duke's lady, but maybe I should've done it with a bit more dignity.

"...Ah. Yeah, yeah. I see."

A gentle voice reached me as I hung my head dejectedly. Freira, still slumped on the ground, grabbed my hand.

"I heard Love Doll models have a joke function. That was just a joke, right? ...Because I was scared."

No, it wasn't. Even I was getting chills just saying it.

"Could you help me up?"

"Response. Yes, my lady."

At least I nailed the response.

I gently lifted Freira to her feet. Even with her dress soaked in fresh blood, there was no resentment in her eyes.

"Thanks for saving me. I really thought I was done for."

"Automaton Three Laws complied with."

I'd have to rip out those Three Laws soon.

The knight captain came rushing over in a panic to check on the lady.

"Lady Freira, are you alright?"

"Yes. ...Tin Can saved me."

The others glanced around and muttered their pieces.

"The automaton killed it?"

"Holy shit. That thing's got some serious specs."

"Still just a tin can, though..."

Yeah, yeah. The end of the human era had arrived, you punks.

I was grumbling internally since I couldn't speak when the iron door creaked open and a massive man strode in.

"Barbarians showed up? ...Freira!"

Grizzled gray hair and beard, sharp eyes—but unlike his gaze, the man limped along with a cane.

Ulrich Karstein. The Northern Grand Duke of Karstein.

Once a Swordmaster and one of the continent's strongest warriors, the man who'd fended off a fire dragon.

Why all past tense? Because his prime was long gone.

A curse on his heart had left him unable even to guarantee victory against an imperial legion commander these days.

That's why End of Empire players called him this:

'Old Codfish.'

He died ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in all sorts of routes for various reasons.

But save him somehow, and he'd be a player's steadfast ally to the end.

So yeah, the affinity quest was essential.

Ulrich limped toward his daughter, checking if she was okay over and over—like any ordinary father.

"The watchman must've dozed off. Tin Can saved me."

"I'll have to discipline him. As long as you're safe, that's what matters. ...And that automaton."

Ulrich stopped in front of me and raised an eyebrow.

"Impressive. Thank you."

These people knew I was a machine, right? No way a thanks would make me happy.

'Actually, it kinda does.'

Soldiers started scrubbing the flesh and bloodstains from the wall. Freira glanced at her own body and whispered to me quietly.

"Tin Can. Could you prepare a bath for me, maybe?"

"Yes, my lady."

But was my name really Tin Can? Couldn't we change it to something else?

I wondered what cool name I'd pick if I ever got a mouth. Lost in such pointless thoughts, I sat motionless in the tub.

Not slacking. I was using my heating function to warm the bathwater.

"Already nice and warm. Thanks."

As Freira entered, I naturally averted my gaze.

Skin pale to the point of ghostly white. Slender limbs contrasting with her curvaceous upper body.

'Wait, isn't this basically mixed bathing?'

A strange sense of taboo hit me, and I tried to step out of the tub. But Freira grabbed me right away.

"W-Wait. My arms are shaking a bit..."

Sure enough, the grand duke's lady's slender arms were trembling. Probably trauma from the slaughter earlier. It must've been quite the shock for her.

Freira gave an awkward smile.

"...Tin Can. Sorry, but could you wash ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠me?"

What if my name was Tin Can? There were things only a Tin Can could do, right?

'A butler should act like a butler.'

I ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠meticulously washed every bit of grime from Freira's body.

***

He wasn't coming.

The massive iron gate leading to the Karstein Grand Duchy stood utterly still.

From beyond that gate, from the south—from the imperial capital—the one who should've come wasn't showing.

The player. The hero who draws the holy sword.

That meant one thing. From the moment I'd possessed this automaton, there was no hero in this world.

If I did nothing, extinction was guaranteed.

'Gotta let them know there's someone inside.'

But proper communication was impossible, making this basically hell mode.

Wait. I could just write?

'Oh, am I a genius?'

Pen and paper it was.

I brushed past knights, butlers, and maids, hurrying to the lady.

I knocked politely and entered her bedroom. Freira set down her book.

"Ah, Tin Can. Here with coffee?"

"Delicious coffee. Wakes you right up. Please enjoy."

I brewed it at double speed and pulled it from my stomach compartment.

Now watch this, Freira.

I set the paper on the desk, dipped the pen nib in ink.

"Oh. You can write too?"

Don't. I said don't.

"...."

A brief silence fell.

I looked down at what I'd written. Beautiful calligraphy.

Riiip.

I shredded the paper immediately.

"Error detected. Correcting. Apologies."

"Huh? Uh, okay."

I made some excuse and bolted. This idiot Tin Can couldn't communicate at all without pre-stored records.

"Was that the joke function too? Pfft."

I could've sworn I heard laughter behind me.

Writing failed too, so options were gone. The sun had already dipped below the horizon.

'How much time left? An hour?'

End of Empire's main story had begun. The first event was about to explode.

I stood at the stairs to the wall, ready to launch at any moment.

"Ah, is no one here? The barbarians, the lady— Kyaa!?"

I shoved the pale-faced maid aside and bolted up the stairs.

It had started. One of Freira Karstein's many death routes.

The lady had just been kidnapped by barbarians.

I could've stopped it, but chose not to.

For affinity? No. Trying to block it would collapse the wall.

I'd tried. It was the fastest bad end.

This was the empire's northern front line. Barring watchman negligence, barbarians climbing the wall was impossible.

Demons.

Black magic had hurled the barbarians onto the wall.

As I reached the wall, a severed head rolled over. In the chaotic melee, the knight captain struggled to form ranks.

"Sword Users to the rear! Experts, grab shields!"

Mana surged through magic circuits, knights exploding into motion. One sword stroke bisected barbarian warriors, but they pushed back hard.

"Ancestors. I'll spread your seed far and wide."

"Court a woman! Time to harvest wives!"

Barbarian irregular proposals.

They called it proposing—straight-up kidnapping and forced marriage.

Tattoos on their skin glowed, muscles bulging further. They hurled clinging knights aside, axes wedging into armor gaps.

I plunged into the chaos's heart.

"Hold till reinforcements! Where's the grand duke!"

"...Automaton? Get outta the way, go to the back!"

The knight captain bellowed, sword at the ready.

True enough, the ground was littered with wrecked automaton parts.

Limited thinking, protocols glitching often, outdated models inferior to me.

Butler automatons weren't for combat anyway.

But who was I?

Argent Heavy Industries' top-tier new butler model. From employer convenience to protection—everything!

'L-Love Doll...'

Good thing I had no mouth.

I shook my head and scanned around.

Expulsion? No. Can't stop there.

The system log output a new line as if reading my mind.

In this blizzard, she'd covered 2.5 kilometers already? Barbarians were impressive ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠in their own way.

No time to waste. First, that hulking barbarian dueling the knight captain—berserker class, by the looks.

I charged between them, deploying alloy shears.

"Don't interfere, you tin can bastard!!"

Schwick.

Blood painted the sky as the barbarian's waist neatly split in two.

"Firing."

Explosions burst, bodies popping like balloons.

After slicing a few more stunned barbarians, the knight captain ran up, catching his breath.

"...What the? Military model? No, it's a butler type."

Quit dawdling and move. Going to rescue the grand duke's lady.

I stood at the wall's edge. Far below, the snowfield blazed with torches—all barbarians.

"Automaton! If you're going for the lady, I'll open the gate briefly. Take the stairs."

1.2 more kilometers in that time, and he wants me to take the stairs politely?

I tried to respond politely to the knight captain.

'Impossible. My alloy body can go faster.'

This time, I'd mix a cool voice...

A flat, emotionless voice emerged.

"Step aside, frail organic."

Ah. Shit.

I jumped off the wall.

***

"I beseech thee, burn my foes with flame."

The grand duke swung his sword, melting the fierce snow. The blade's grudge-like blaze bordered on true fire.

Ulrich, having turned barbarians to ash, caught his breath.

Every mana draw tightened the heart curse around his body.

'If my condition were just a bit better. If I'd only grazed the fire dragon's claw.'

If his wife hadn't left.

Tragedies like his only daughter being kidnapped wouldn't happen.

"Your Grace! Are you alright?!"

"Yes. ...What of Freira? Did knights follow?"

The knight captain shook his head. The melee atop the wall kept the gate shut.

Ulrich grimaced, dragging his limping leg.

"Open the gate. I'll go."

"Your Grace."

"I said open it."

The grand duke knew. Marching out now was near suicide.

He couldn't even beat the chieftain's son, let alone the chief.

Still.

That was the heart of a parent with a daughter.

The heavy gate groaned open. Ulrich filled his lungs with cold air, readying his chant.

"...What are you doing? Prepare for battle."

"Your Grace, that's..."

The grunting knight captain pointed beyond the wide-open gate.

"...."

Unilateral slaughter reflected in the grand duke's eyes.

Bodies halved top-to-bottom, left and right sides severed. Some, hit by magic bullets, were more meat paste than human.

Skilled barbarian warriors outmatched knights. Berserkers could slaughter dozens of Sword Users.

Those berserkers lay buried in snow, faces twisted in agony.

"...Did you do this?"

"I'd like to say yes, but no."

Perfect footprints marked the deep snow. Heading north. Emotionless, mechanical strides.

"One automaton headed beyond the wall."