Three-on-One Against a Delicate Girl
The fanatic, Luman.
He had once been the Holy Kingdom's former Holy Knight Commander — a man whose diligence and character stood unmatched among the paladins, and whose raw physical power was the greatest in the entire nation.
"Hngh!"
The ground shuddered under a colossal THUD.
"Ah… what staggering strength!"
"To hoist the final trial's ten-ton weight as if it were nothing… a champion strongman in the flesh."
"That monstrous power inspires awe itself!"
He always led from the front when it came to moving iron, never once skipping a day's training, and the masses sang his praises for it. And yet—
Not enough.
Luman still thirsted for strength. His max weight had long since plateaued. His muscles refused to swell any further. For all the fanatical effort he poured in, he could not take a single step forward. Perhaps he had simply slammed into the fated ceiling of the human body.
He wanted to be stronger. He wanted to lift weights no man could lift. He wanted muscles even bigger, even harder.
But here, no answer presented itself.
"O Father of us all, I beseech thee… grant me strength…"
He prayed to the chief god. The result was the same.
"Damn it all…"
At last he hit the wall, despaired, and was about to turn his back on everything — when a voice reached him.
"...!!"
A nameless god extended a helping hand. Whether that hand was a blessing or a curse, he could not have said.
Steinroid
This shall be my authority.
Drink, and thou shalt lift heaven and earth.
"Oh… ohhh!!!"
Whatever it was, to a Luman whose will had already broken, it was salvation dropped from the sky at the perfect hour.
"Gladly shall I drink from the chalice of thy grace!!!"
That day, the knight once revered for his unshakable faith waded into the swamp of corruption of his own accord. For no reason more profound than this: he wanted to move more weight.
"UOOOOOOOH!!!! From this day forth, there is nothing in this world I cannot lift!!"
All that remained in that place was a muscle-bound fanatic who had sold his faith for power.
And that was why Luman betrayed the Holy Kingdom and came under the protection of Redanis. It was one of the few places that would even take a heretic — and Hecate, the Fifth Finger, could suppress the side effects of Steinroid.
A titanic crash split the air — and now, in this very place, I was trading blows with him.
"You've got plenty of muscle, but you're a little slow!"
"Run that mouth all you like."
The vein that popped on his forehead at a little trash talk was a thing of beauty. Former clergyman, I supposed — he had no resistance to it at all.
"Heh. So, how are your friends doing?"
"None of your concern."
Even as we talked, I swept my blade in a vicious arc. He scrambled aside, spitting curses.
"You wicked succubus…"
Steel screamed against steel.
"Hahaha! Always so earnest — that's why you're terrible with feints!"
As things stood, I was at least even with him, if not better. Maestro's fight had been all gimmicks; Luman was a straightforward brawl. On top of that, I'd put in a fair amount of leveling and skill upgrades, so I was actually pushing him back.
…Granted, that was because I'd dumped resources on myself that were supposed to go to other characters.
"Hngh!"
His fist cratered the ground.
"Oh my? Don't be so rough!"
Which meant I still had a little room to breathe in this exchange. His offense funneled almost entirely into those two holy-power-loaded fists, so compared to other bosses he was easy to read, and the openings were obvious.
A kick came whooshing in.
"Whoa?!"
"A shame. I could have snapped those slender legs of yours."
The occasional kick was about as spicy as it got. Dodge what I could dodge; parry what I couldn't with the blade. No real wild cards.
A sharp slash cut the air — and at some point, my edge started drawing blood.
"Heh. All show muscle now, are we?"
His answering punch detonated like a bomb.
"Shut… up!!"
I tilted my head and let the rage-soaked fist whistle past, then drew a shallow cut across his unguarded gut. Skin split. I slipped back fast, then caught the probing straight punches on my blade and turned them aside.
"Hah…"
Good. This was doable. At this rate I could protect the Pope and hold out until backup arrived.
…I just hope Maestro, Elia, and Professor Vagina are holding their own.
Arkis was out with gym-induced muscle soreness. Iflata was recovering from magical overload. As for the rest… maybe Earth Dragon Earth?
"Well, I wasn't exactly counting on him anyway."
His faction was sitting on its hands, waiting for the kingdom and Redanis to wipe each other out. Direct help was a pipe dream.
"Behold! This is my unshakable faith!!!"
He kept throwing high-powered attacks, but they were easy to slip. Put simply, this was a juiced-up Tarkan boss fight. Newbies dropped like flies, but against a veteran who'd learned the patterns, he was a punching bag.
…Looking back, Arhan was the real mutant.
Unless your specs were absurdly high, a boss that shredded veterans and newbies alike at similar levels was not a healthy design.
"Mmm~ you're so slow, and so weak. If you ask me, that old man Arhan was much stronger!"
"Hah… hah…"
As the fight dragged on, it was Luman who started to flag. The Steinroid side effects, most likely — he was built for a sprint, not a marathon.
"All you do is scurry and flee…!!"
"My body's so soft and fragile, you see. One clean hit and I'd snap right in half!"
"I shall purify that lewd, vulgar flesh of yours."
I stopped dead.
"Hah?"
Ah. I'd almost taken that bait without thinking.
"An opening!!"
"There is not!"
Moon Step
Steel rang as moonlight flared around my feet. My reason had wobbled for a second in the middle there, but I slipped the blow with room to spare.
If I kept this pace, I could win this comfortably.
"Hah… hrm…"
Luman was a bloody wreck by now, dragging in ragged breaths like a man on his last legs.
…I could finish this with an ultimate right here.
"Answer my call. Arin… and Tarkan."
"?!"
"Answer my call."
"Arin… and Tarkan."
⟨ Call of the Holy War ⟩
His unexpected trick snapped my mind wide awake. I couldn't hide the shock.
No — hold on! You're cheap-shotting a teammate summon now?!
That's a desperation pattern that only shows up at the most godawful odds! Don't tell me he's actually using it here…
A thunderous crash rolled through the building.
"Ugh! This thing is filthy tough! Get out here, you bastard!"
"...No."
Arin of the Swift Sword hacked fruitlessly at a densely packed mass of wood, growing more agitated with every wasted cut.
"You cheap-ass little shit! I'll cut your dick off!"
"What are you even saying…"
It was Maestro's absolute defense, built to keep herself alive. Arin's blade had carved through the marionettes like paper, and she'd put up a decent fight — but the cramped indoor terrain had started to push her onto the back foot.
"Get over here."
"How am I supposed to come out with all this in the way?!"
So she had packed her marionettes together into a solid barrier. Even Arin couldn't slice through it easily, and any wound she did manage to open regenerated in moments.
"You chicken-shit doll-wrapping bitch! Stop running! Come out and fight me!"
"I am a frail princess. Therefore I must be protected by my knights."
A wet, suffering moan leaked from the wooden dolls being used as living shields.
"K-kill… me…"
"Your knights are wailing in agony, you know?"
"No? They're telling me they love me."
"You psycho bitch."
Arin clicked her tongue at the sight of Maestro locked into a full defensive shell. If she'd just stuck it out a little longer in a proper fight, who knows. Instead she'd gotten spooked halfway through and gone into hiding!
"I hate close combat to begin with."
"Just you try coming out! I'll rip your arms and legs off!"
Arin hammered the wooden wall in a fury. It accomplished nothing.
Then a low hum rose — and light suddenly coiled around her entire body.
"...!?"
"Th-this is?! Uncle Luman's in trouble?!"
"...?"
Arin went pale as she realized the other fight had taken a bad turn. Maestro blinked her small eyes and cocked her head, listening to the noise outside.
The light surged — and Arin's figure vanished without a trace.
"...What?"
Maestro shoved the wooden-doll wall aside and peered out. There was not a single trace of Arin left.
Meanwhile, at the place where Tarkan and Elia were fighting…
"Kh…!!"
"Deus vult! My physical strength now surpasses yours!"
The Saintess had been pressing her advantage without pause. Tarkan had lost the benefits of that massive frame and raw power, and Elia had only grown stronger. The result was inevitable.
"Ghhk…!"
Womb-Piercing Holy Punch
"How do you like my Womb-Piercing Holy Punch!!"
The Saintess's fist drove square into Tarkan's lower abdomen, and a deep, involuntary gasp burst out of her.
"...Elia. Where did you learn something like that."
"Tsk, tsk. Doesn't look like we'll even get a turn."
Professor Vagina and Holy Knight Commander Van kept their guard up, boxing the area in. Elia had insisted on taking Tarkan herself, but they were there in case she tried to run.
"Kh… Strange. Something. Twitching. Inside the belly."
"That's proof that you're a woman!"
"...We're going to need to give our students some sex education."
The tide was steadily tipping Elia's way — and then a deep, resonant hum filled the air.
"Th-this is—!"
A pillar of light wrapped Tarkan's body and poured down over her.
"We cannot let her escape!!"
"Luman, you bastard!! How dare you steal our holy arts!"
Van and Elia saw the technique for what it was and lunged — too late. In a flash of brilliance, Tarkan was gone.
"Damn it."
"What in the world was that light? Where did she go?"
"...It's a holy art passed down in the utmost secrecy even within our Holy Kingdom."
Call of the Holy War
A top-secret teleportation rite that instantly gathers comrades to the caster's location.
"It's a technique used to rally one's allies to the caster."
"Then that means…"
The implication hit Professor Vagina like a hammer between the eyes.
"Ryushia is in danger!!"
"Hrm. I'm fucked."
A girl with long black hair streaming behind her muttered it under her breath.
"Uncle Luman! What the hell is going on?!"
"No time to talk. We kill Ryushia at least, then we withdraw."
"Nn…"
Before my eyes, a shrieking girl swordsman, a blood-soaked fanatic, and a violet-skinned demon were all staring at one person.
"I was this close to killing that doll bitch too…"
"Understood. Luman. Will cooperate."
"Well, I didn't like this bitch much anyway… worth a shot."
"You have my thanks, all of you."
"..."
Are you kidding me.
Why is it Avengers Assemble right before the clear?
That's usually something the good guys do, isn't it? What am I, the boss?
"O-oh my, ganging up on a delicate girl like this. Isn't that a little cowardly?"
"Fuck off."
"Arin. Ryushia is female. No penis."
"No I'm not?! I used to have one, you know?!"
"Then. Futanari?"
"...Excuse me?"
"What the fuck is this conversation."
A chaotic battlefield and conversations that refused to line up tangled together, and I sank even deeper into the mess.