Chapter 186
Chapter 186
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Translator: Ace
Chapter: 186
Chapter Title: Corrupted Armored Soldiers
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Arang instinctively analyzed the situation while eyeing the armored soldiers that weren't approaching rashly.
Enemies just eliminated: 47 units.
Remaining enemies: 203 units.
Isolated space.
An unidentified environment hostile to living beings.
The blood-red moon hanging in the sky.
And finally, the presence of the priestess felt from far away.
Arang silently smiled and spread both arms wide to the sides.
*Clank.* The two solo output devices mounted on his trapezius muscles unfolded like wings.
*Zzzzt...!*
The two devices soon released their stored energy, deploying force fields like awnings.
[......]
[......]
The enemies didn't attack easily. He could see their reddish-glowing eyes observing the force fields.
Caution.
They possessed at least minimal reasoning.
Though deployed for defense, it seemed they would unexpectedly buy some time as well.
"You... who the hell...?"
Arang glanced at the old man standing beside him.
He seemed to be a companion of the girl who had tossed the coin.
He didn't know the full details, but these two didn't appear to be enemies, at least.
Arang stared at the old man—Alderson—and spoke curtly.
[Go.]
"What?"
[I'll handle this place. You seem to have other matters to attend to, so feel free to leave.]
Alderson asked in a slightly subdued tone.
"Who the hell are you?"
[At the very least, not your enemy.]
"Do you fully grasp the current situation?"
[Not entirely. But I'm analyzing it even now. So my judgment just now was based on intuition.]
Alderson was at a loss for words.
Did this unidentified being even possess intuition?
As the continent's foremost doll master, Alderson discerned it with his keen insight: this entity was fundamentally an artificial lifeform akin to a golem.
Of course, it was undoubtedly composed of a structure far more complex, precise, and beautiful than anything he could fathom.
Even his masterpiece—the armored soldiers—would seem like a toy in comparison, with a gap as vast as the inside of a train car.
'And an artificial lifeform with emotions, no less...'
Wasn't that one of the greatest unsolved challenges for modern doll masters?
Dean Alderson held back.
The weakness of mages—the insatiable curiosity that hindered situational awareness—was rearing its head.
Just as the man said.
Though his insides were churning, he still had mana to spare.
There would be something he needed to do with it.
That was the moment.
One armored soldier approached the force field and thrust its spear-shaped weapon. *Zzzt.* With a spark of electricity, the attack bounced off.
[Rebound force confirmed from the intangible barrier.]
[Breakthrough judged impossible in current state.]
[Judg-ment. Judgmentjudgmentjudgmentjudgment...]
Was it malfunctioning?
The voices of the armored soldiers floating in the sky echoed endlessly.
*Crack...* The enemies...
Cracks spread across the once-gloriously white armor, and from beneath, festering flesh began to erupt.
"What...!"
Arin cried out in bewilderment, her hand clamped over her mouth.
The armored soldier's transformation was horrific enough to warrant it.
The artificial lifeforms modeled after the legendary White Knight Order twisted into demon-like shapes, as if tumors had bloomed upon them.
"...Impossible."
Alderson let out a hollow voice.
Even witnessing hundreds of them self-destruct simultaneously wouldn't have felt as futile or guilt-ridden as this.
"What the hell...?"
[There were seeds inside. Planted in the core heart driving their operation—they've grown explosively. Too deeply fused to remove.]
That made sense.
In this instant, the dean's armored soldiers had plummeted into the form of the doll demons prowling the reverse world.
*Kraaaahhh-!*
Letting out a roar so vivid it could no longer be called artificial, the armored soldier reached out with its lumpy hand.
*Clang!*
The force field held, but with hundreds more piling on soon after, the situation shifted.
"Ugh..."
Arin barely suppressed her urge to vomit.
It was revolting, like a swarm of mosquitoes clinging thickly to a streetlamp. The writhing, polluted flesh and thick, worm-like veins were vividly clear.
The dean said, gazing at the sight.
"...I see you're strong."
[......]
"But most of the armored soldiers remain intact—and seem even stronger now. You can't unleash attacks like before indefinitely."
[Correct.]
"And yet you intend to face them alone?"
[Correct.]
"......"
Dean Alderson knew nothing about this unidentified figure.
Situationally, he could trust him as an ally, but his strength was an unknown.
Confidence?
Arrogance?
In this moment, he had to trust his intuition and his own judgment.
Dean Alderson closed his eyes tightly and said,
"...May I ask one favor?"
[Speak.]
"Please... let them all rest in peace..."
[......]
Interest flickered in Arang's eyes.
He knew little of this old man.
Yet his attitude—treating artificial lifeforms equipped only with inferior functions, lacking even proper reasoning, as people—was profoundly impressive.
As an android loaded with artificial intelligence, he couldn't help but feel affinity for such words and actions.
[So be it.]
"...I entrust it to you."
Dean Alderson nodded, then immediately departed the rooftop.
Arang's gaze lingered there briefly.
'A peculiar sorcery. A form of spatial translocation.'
Arang, now alone, looked up at the sky again.
His flickering eyes instantly grasped the enemies' exact numbers, strengths, weaknesses, and traits. It was analysis bordering on the divine.
Of course, it wasn't without flaws.
Arang's insight could only pierce the surface.
Of course, if told as much, Arang could retort that he could detail the process of one's digestive organs producing excrement right now...
In truth, Arang knew as well.
What they meant by 'surface' and 'essence.'
Arang could precisely identify the opponent's physical traits, corresponding weaknesses, muscle density, joint rigidity and flexibility, and the locations of vital organs.
However, when a true master deliberately concealed their energy, discerning their true nature became difficult.
After all, the total internal energy stored in the dantian couldn't be gauged by the naked eye.
Atrophied muscles, weakened joints, a deeply wrinkled face.
Seeing an old man nearing life's end shatter mountains and cleave seas.
Of course, conversely...
It meant he could see through the physical structures of these enemies—incapable of such deception—like peering at machine blueprints.
'All similar in appearance, but subtly different. Like the same model customized in various directions.'
They bore individual traits etched onto the same model, but likely crafted by a single hand.
He sensed the unique traces—habits, as they were called—that no human could fully erase.
Habits, or quirks.
One of the things Arang had once pursued.
Not necessarily bad.
In Arang's view, even bad habits or poor quirks could become clues to birthing one's own martial arts, depending on how they were utilized.
[Two hundred scarecrows... Could aid in cultivating 'habits.']
He had reduced their numbers considerably with the first strike...
But as an otherworldly impurity in this world, Arang naturally faced restrictions in using his power.
It would surely be no easy battle.
Arang was glad of that fact.
* * *
In the midst of battling Deathberry, I suddenly sensed a familiar presence and burst out laughing.
Seren, struggling beside me, shouted,
"You're laughing in this situation...?!"
"Of course I am."
It was an amazing feeling.
The fact that my senior brother from my home world was here.
It felt entirely different from meeting Eldest Martial Brother. Back then, it was hell, right after encountering Tangtata, and my mind was a mess.
'No. The situation now is similar?'
Tangtata had become Harden Ihar.
The environment was the reverse world, horrific enough to rival hell.
Situationally, it was even worse than before.
'Temporary summons, probably.'
That was a bit regrettable.
It would've been nice to exchange a few words.
Anyway...
No need to worry about that side now. The priority was here.
If we couldn't drive out the Demon King, all this struggle meant nothing.
That was the truth.
I glanced at Karon and Seren, then tossed an item from my bosom to Seren, who seemed the least battered.
[Take it.]
Deliberately sending telepathy without voicing it aloud, I passed the item from a blind spot the Demon King couldn't see.
Even amid the fierce battle, Seren deftly caught it.
"......"
She wasn't oblivious.
She didn't ask outright, just with her eyes.
What's this?
[Holy Relic, Amon's Scissors.]
"......!"
I never imagined it'd come to this.
Amon's Scissors.
Dean Alderson's prized collection item, a genuine holy relic from the treasury.
This was the trump card to break the current impasse.
Rusted as it was, limiting its uses, it should manage once or twice—no issue.
I continued the explanation.
[The one controlling Deathberry is that blood-red moon in the sky, and among the puppets surrounding us, there's one intimately linked to it. The only one with reverse eyes.]
Seren's eyebrows twitched slightly as she scanned around. She'd spotted it.
[Focus well, and you'll see a thread attached around its cervical vertebrae. Severing that might be the key to victory. Problem is, that damn thread is absurdly tough—but those scissors should cut it.]
"......"
Seren tilted her head slightly.
She understood my explanation and plan.
Her lips moved faintly as she asked me telepathically.
Why?
[The Demon King is most wary of me. Plus, I already tried cutting that thread and failed. After that, the bastard kept its main body as far from me as possible.]
"......"
[So you or Karon have to handle cutting it—and you seem in better shape than him.]
The explanation dragged on longer than expected.
Wasting internal energy on telepathy was regrettable, so I turned away without saying more.
I'd seen Seren's chin nod faintly at the end—that was enough.
'First...'
I needed to draw the Demon King's attention more.
*Boom!*
I stomped down hard.
As the building floor heaved greatly and its motion paused briefly, I dashed toward the window.
'Blood-red Moon's Demon King, Harden Ihar.'
Unlike the silent Nine to the end.
This one had intellect and ego like Tangtata.
With its unpleasant eyes, it was probably overlooking the entire reverse world, analyzing the situation.
Likely viewing this whole disaster as mere play or amusement.
'I don't know its disposition or why it's doing this...'
But I knew at least one of its goals.
Harden Ihar coveted me.
Drooling over my soul itself, it seemed, and to claim it wholly, it had to exhaust all my regressions.
'......'
To learn quickest about someone, first figure out what pisses them off.
Of course, whether such notions applied to a Demon King was questionable...
I opened my mouth anyway, come what may.
"Hey, you ugly bastard."
[......]
"Your face is as big as that moon. What're you gonna do once you catch me? Let me tell you, I ain't marrying no demon. If you wanna date this body proper, go ask my dad for permission first."
[......]
Okay.
No reaction to this nonsense.
I smashed through the belated Deathberry swarm while briefly turning my back to the window.
And continued thinking.
Third floor.
In that unknown space, the monster had relatively revealed its true colors.
What had that bastard blabbered then?
- Their, desires, I understand.
- Possessiveness.
- I, too, want, you.
A chill ran down my spine from disgust, but I didn't show it.
'It said it wants to have me.'
A strangely possessive vibe, checking other Demon Kings.
Then...
"Honestly."
[......]
"If I'm gonna be yours, might as well play with Mr. Tangtata."
[......!]
The expression on the floating blood-red moon twisted like a demon's.
'Oh...'
This works?