Chapter 205: The Land That Flows Like A River - 7
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 205: The Land That Flows Like A River - 7
A series of attacks that could hardly be called attacks continued. Historia grimaced at the relentless guerrilla warfare, all orchestrated using the Dog King.
“…Dammit.”
The Gunner Corps. A versatile long-range harassment unit led personally by Historia.
They had advanced far ahead of the main force, established a position, and were unleashing a hail of bullets.
Their objective was to conduct reconnaissance and harassment, tying up the enemy in a delaying action until the main force arrived. They had repelled the enemy by generously spraying them with their supply of salt bullets.
They had even managed to repel the Progenitor, if only for a moment.
However, the next being to appear was unexpected.
‘The Dog King?’
If the boy with the invisible sword had charged out instead, Historia would have simply nodded and faced him herself.
But the heavily armored Dog King was an opponent she shouldn't—and couldn't—engage. She had no ammunition to waste on it, so Historia immediately ordered a ceasefire.
And so, the Dog King trotted, completely unopposed, right into the middle of the Gunner Corps. The soldiers, tense, eyed the Dog King warily. Even if it couldn't harm them, it was still a monster capable of demolishing their base just by thrashing around.
Just as Historia approached to drive it away herself, one of the soldiers pointed.
“Major General! On its back!”
Only then did Historia realize something was attached to the Dog King’s back. As she debated whether to shoot it, the bag on its back swelled up rapidly.
It was a tear gas grenade.
Though it was only for a moment, the Gunners who had been aiming at the container cried out in agony. Even amidst the chaos, they had to maintain their aim, as per Historia’s roar.
The Dog King, too, rolled on the ground in pain, but regardless, it was our side that had taken the hit.
‘It’s eating away at our nerves.’
We had seized an advantageous position to pressure them, firing one-sidedly. But instead of getting tense, they tormented us with every trick in the book.
The Dog King would run out, bark, and retreat. Bullets were wasted. When Historia, fed up, ordered them to fire only at the Progenitor, the Dog King would peek out at the perfect moment, holding a pitch-black parasol. The tense soldiers would then reflexively fire their special rounds.
If she told them to hold their fire and observe, the real Progenitor would appear. People screamed.
Every time the random-item box opened, the Gunner Corps' nerves were stretched and released like rubber bands dozens of times, until they finally lost their elasticity and went limp.
It was a familiar tactic. Wasn't this one of the Military State's primary doctrines?
‘This is your strategy, isn't it, Huey? Your view was that an army, being a collection of people, could be subjected to the same psychological warfare as an individual.’
The Military State’s combat doctrine was simple. The regular soldiers or officers would exhaust the enemy’s Qi or mana, and then a general officer, typically one of the Six Generals, would clean up. That was it.
In any case, the common soldiers were treated as nothing more than a swarm of flies—annoying, but safe to ignore. At least, until Historia came along.
Historia, who fired her gun using Qi, was the final piece of the puzzle the Military State had been looking for. By adding her threatening gunshots to the harassing fire, the common soldiers, once mere disposable pawns, were elevated to a position where they could be used strategically within the State.
‘Yes. Just like the Dog King now.’
Historia fell into thought as she watched the Dog King plod back.
‘The Dog King is harmless, yes. But we don't know what it might be carrying on its back, so we have to remain vigilant.’
The Dog King itself probably wouldn't kill anyone, but what did that matter? They had no idea what was in its bag. Thanks to that, the members of the Gunner Corps could never let their guard down.
While the Dog King, an asset we'd considered a non-combatant, was being used strategically, our own strength remained unchanged. Naturally, we were forced onto the defensive.
‘Hmph. He's still the same... striking at our weaknesses until it hurts…’
She had just finished her thought.
Historia was monitoring a container that had a strangely low color saturation through her sights when a supply officer approached with a short salute.
“Major General. We're out of ammunition…”
“I’ve already contacted the signallers. We'll receive supplies at the next point.”
“…I’ll get things ready.”
Even the news of imminent supplies didn't put the vigor back in the officer's steps. Fundamentally, ammunition wasn't the only thing they had exhausted.
Mental fortitude and concentration were also finite resources.
‘…This is dangerous. If they charge out now, we’ll be in trouble.’
A wave of tension washed over her, and Historia smiled in spite of herself. Her body heated up in anticipation of the fight.
*
The time was right.
The frequency of their shots had decreased, and their reaction was slow when Azzy appeared. The delayed response was partly due to dulled reflexes, but there must also have been a psychological reluctance to use their bullets. They were surely running low on ammunition.
The sun was high enough now. I stood up with a defiant smile.
“It’s about time. We'll be temporarily suspending Azzy's delivery service. Azzy has done more than enough.”
True to my word, we'd had quite a bit of fun with our bomb-delivering dog.
Azzy can't harm people. If a lethal bomb were strapped to her back, she'd run away from humans.
But what about a tear gas grenade? A bomb that doesn't kill humans, but only causes them pain. Thanks to that, we were able to make full strategic use of Azzy, who couldn't attack people. Coincidentally, the Regressor happened to be carrying tear gas grenades…
“Grrrrrrrrr.”
…In return, though, it seemed Azzy had strategically declared me her enemy. Startled, I placed some pre-cooked meat in front of Azzy and said as gently as possible,
“Azzy. You’re the best! As a combat dog, your performance is second to none!”
“Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.”
Huh? She should be happy with that much praise.
Her nose, red from all the sneezing, was running. Her eyes were bloodshot, too, but they were filled with a hostility that made it clear I'd crossed a line, rather than with any kind of sentimentality.
I wiped her eyes and nose with a damp handkerchief and said, “Here, have some meat! I won’t forget your hard work.”
“Grrr. My cut.”
“What? What do you mean, your cut?”
“Grrrrr.”
“Alright, alright. You're no different from a gangster! Here, I’ll give you your cut. Happy now? Take what you want!”
“…Woof! 10%!”
10% for what? What happens when it reaches 100%?
Before I could even check, Azzy’s expression softened, and she immediately sat down and began to chew the meat. She usually enjoyed her dog food well enough, but the look on her face now was as if she were chewing on her mortal enemy.
I’d better stay on her good side for a while. Hmm.
“You… if you pretend you don’t know later… I’ll hate you?”
“…I get it. I’ll take good care of you. You really think I’d pretend not to know you?”
“Woof!”
She seemed to be in a better mood, but I had no idea why, which was terrifying. In any case, she did work hard, so I had to acknowledge that.
Leaving Azzy to eat her meat while sniffling, I gestured to Tyr and the Regressor, who had been holding their breath until now.
“We've been cowering before the violence of the majority for too long, haven't we? Shall we go get some revenge?”
As if she’d been waiting, Tyr slung her parasol over her shoulder. A subtle smile played on her lips.
“Let us. I will teach a lesson to the prey who believed they were safe from the darkness just because the sun is out.”
The Regressor, who had been calmly gathering her strength, was also ready.
“Let’s break through quickly. Once we take down the Gunmaster, things will get much easier.”
Our strength was at its peak. Nothing had been expended. On the other hand, they were a disorderly mob, mentally tormented by Azzy.
The perfect opportunity had arrived. On this chessboard, I had two cards: the Regressor and Tyr. On their side, they had only Historia.
Hahaha. This battle is my victory, Historia. You haven't forgotten that I was the one who perfected your tactics, have you? I know all your weaknesses!
Now, witness the power of the one you ignored! Form is temporary, but class is permanent!
*
The container door burst open, and Tyr advanced alone, accompanied by her pitch-black coffin.
By now, Azzy had run out with Tyr’s parasol about five times. Because of that, those who had vowed not to be fooled again simply observed, even as they saw the dark parasol.
But Tyr’s appearance was different from Azzy’s from the very start. The moment she revealed herself under the sun, the soldiers of the Gunner Corps felt as if a fog had descended before their eyes. The sensation that the very darkness of this land was walking forth sent a chill down the spines of the ordinary humans.
Bullets rained down on Tyr, but the Tyr of now was a little different from before.
Streams of darkness flowed out from the floating coffin. The darkness was slightly faded under the sun, but that only made it more ominous. The moment the lid opened, it was as if the hands of a clock had spun wildly, bringing the evening.
The bullets, flying with a terrifying sound, failed to pierce the veil of darkness. Occasionally, a salt bullet would flash and cut through the darkness, but that was all. They had been too depleted to tear the veil apart.
Tyr strode forward as if she were a tank. With a single sweep of her hand, the bullets that had failed to pierce the veil were brushed aside.
Bang.
Then, a single gunshot rang out. The veil of darkness swirled and tore apart, and Tyr’s head snapped back.
One of the Gunners clenched his fist and shouted.
“That’s the Major General’s bullet! How’s that taste, you monster—!”
But his words were cut short. Above Tyr’s left eyebrow, a small vortex of blood was spinning in sync with the rotating bullet, pushing it out.
As the Gunner gasped, Tyr’s red eyes gleamed and she murmured, “…A monster, you say. I've heard that word so often it no longer stirs any emotion in me.”
Tyr turned her head forward again. Historia’s bullet bounced off, failing to even slow her down.
“Go on, shoot. The sun is shining brightly. Now, while its searing light curses me, is your only chance to weaken this body. Go on.”
After a moment of calculation, Tyr smirked.
“If you shoot me a hundred times a hundred, you might actually cause me some trouble.”
True enough, the blood scorched by the sunlight had turned black and discolored. If all of her blood energy were to be seared like this, even the Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka would be in danger.
But that was merely a handful scooped from an endless ocean of blood.
Historia lowered her gun, her eyes cold and grim.
‘I can't win this with bullets that consume so much of my Qi with every shot. I'll be exhausted first. And now that the salt bullets are gone…’
Her mind made up, Historia raised two pistols. Heavy pistols, pre-loaded with plenty of ammunition, settled into her hands. Feeling the cold, heavy touch of the metal, Historia said, “I'll handle her until the main force arrives. Form up and fall back.”
“Major General, it’s too dangerous! Our orders were to never engage the Progenitor—!”
“So what am I supposed to do when she’s coming to fight us?” Historia snapped irritably and took a step forward.
Before she could take another, she felt an unusual presence from above. Historia quickly aimed at the sky and fired.
Bang. T-ting. The gunshot and the sound of a bullet ricocheting off something were heard in quick succession. Immediately after, someone crashed into the middle of the Gunner Corps like a meteor.
“Who says you get to decide?! Your opponent is me!”
While all eyes were on Tyr, the Regressor had flown into the sky, and now she landed with a massive gust of wind. The moment she touched down, she slammed Jizan into the ground, and both the earth and the air began to tremble. Shaken by the twin impacts of the earthquake and the storm, everyone momentarily lost their balance.
At that moment, as if by agreement, the two warriors charged their opponents. Without a hint of hesitation, they swung their weapons at each other.
Clang. Her crossed guns blocked Chun-aeng. Sparks flew from the grinding steel, and the two women’s eyes met.
“Major General!”
At someone’s call, Historia shouted back without even turning.
“Don't worry about me! Stop the Progenitor!”
“Hah, you think you can handle me alone?!” the Regressor yelled, twisting her wrist. The invisible sword slid up the angled pistol and shot toward Historia's face. Seeing the shimmering tip of the blade clearly, Historia smirked.
“Alone? That's my line, cutie.”
Historia instantly dropped her body low.
She leaned her torso back, her body parallel to the ground. Balancing precariously in that position, she extended her opposite leg in a kick. The Regressor, whose center of gravity had shifted forward as Historia vanished from her line of sight, hurriedly raised her knee to block it.
There was a satisfying thud. Sent flying into the air, the Regressor flipped her body and landed on a conveyor belt. As she clicked her tongue, the Gunmaster strode toward her.
“The real question is, can you survive until the Progenitor gets here?”
In her hands, two pistols fitted with blades spun gracefully.