Just What Can You Do? (3)
Karina Luna did not like any creature outside the nobility. They were, by birth, people who had never experienced the life of a hero. Bethesda Academy’s claim that anyone could become a hero was nothing but empty rhetoric and fantasy. To become a hero, one had to be noble from the very moment of their birth. A hero rising from the garbage heap existed only in fairy tales. Only those who sacrificed their lives for the empire became nobles, and only those born into nobility could become heroes who would lay down their lives for the empire. No human was good from birth. No human could overcome their wicked nature through their own power. Nature was something that could not be overcome in the first place. It was a miracle humans were not permitted.
And the worst among them were the commoners. They were not even human from the start—they were property. The empire’s property was not human. After repeated waste of time, the empire had eventually granted them the minimum courtesy of being treated as human, but Karina’s opinion differed. Commoners were commoners precisely because they could only ever be commoners. Since the empire could not be wrong, the ones who were wrong were them. Just look at their faces and their behavior. Even when insulted right to their faces, they couldn’t even think of resisting properly. Look at how they got swept up in the words and actions of the commoner beside them and ended up climbing into a Titan. It was so pathetic she could not see them as fellow citizens of the empire.
And their skill? Karina had also witnessed the Titan that faced the princess. To the eyes of the unskilled, the high-speed Titan must have looked like it fought a fierce battle against her. In reality, it had not landed a single successful blow, failed to utilize its weapon’s characteristics, and its Titan customization had been abysmal. The sight of a pilot with neither the birthright, qualifications, nor history of a hero receiving attention by leaving detailed control to an artificial intelligence was unbearably repulsive to Karina. The urge to crush him had been so strong that she had reacted with an uncharacteristically emotional outburst.
“Karina, are you really sure about this? If the Titan gets damaged, it could interfere with the joint training.”
“Are you saying you think I’d allow that commoner to land an attack on me, Ellen?”
“No, but… that commoner is part of our squad too.”
It was a reasonable point, but.
“Will he even be useful if he’s still in one piece?”
Operator Ellen did not reply. Her silence was affirmation.
Clank.
Karina locked her limbs into the stick and pedals. The hatch slowly closed on its own.
“That commoner will do his best to prove himself. In that case, I’ll simply teach him one thing.”
That a commoner could never become like a noble. That without knowing proper, textbook combat, he could never win.
“That a high-mobility Titan is absolutely not supposed to be used that way.”
No matter how much that commoner might be trembling, she would show him without a shred of mercy.
Flies. Flies. How on earth did they stick to the wall like that? They were so tiny, yet their adhesive power was incredible. Did their legs have some special structure?
I had been staring blankly at the Titan when Revan approached and bowed his head deeply.
“Deep, I’m sorry. I said something I shouldn’t have.”
It was true he had said something he shouldn’t have. But I couldn’t call everything that happened afterward unnecessary. Either way, as someone born a commoner, I had to prove myself without rest. This was an opportunity to do exactly that. Even better, it was a chance for someone like me—with almost no real combat experience—to build some up.
I hesitated for a moment, thinking of how to answer, when Ian suddenly thumped Revan hard on the back.
“It’s fine. She likes fighting.”
“Huh?”
“The crazy dog who even picks fights with Aaron, the third-ranked student. It’s fine.”
Wait, I only fought Aaron because of that bastard, yet he was suddenly making things up. Still, apart from that, it was true that I liked riding Titans. It was the only good thing about coming to this world, after all.
Ran approached, slipping an earpiece into her ear.
“Deep, just like you asked, Ian transferred the core to another Titan. The academy gladly lent us a spare. How did you pull that off?”
Answering how I managed it was a little difficult. As Ian would put it, I had used a few connections. Besides, strictly speaking, I wasn’t even the one who did it.
“I-I contacted P-Professor Sumeragi.”
I hadn’t said much. In fact, it wasn’t even me who sent the message—Ailee had done it.
“What exactly did you say?”
“Ailee…”
“You mean she sent something like, ‘I’m completely serious. The hangar is packed with Titans, but if you give me just one, I’d be so, so grateful I might even stop by the professor’s research building for a quick visit?’ And she sent one right away?”
I never told her to send it like that. I had only mentioned that we should try contacting Professor Sumeragi, yet she had sent it immediately. And the fact that Professor Sumeragi had checked it right away and gladly approved the Titan rental was also hard to understand. There wasn’t a single normal person here. Except for Ran, who was watching me with a worried look, everyone else seemed completely off.
“But Deep, is it really okay to switch Titans so suddenly? Besides, this one isn’t even a high-mobility type. This is…”
“B-because with a high-mobility type, I a-absolutely c-couldn’t win.”
I didn’t know much about the noble named Karina Luna. But I did know what kind of Titan the Luna Count family used. Unlike the many noble houses that adopted heavily armored Titans as their general-purpose machines, the Luna family used their own proprietary high-mobility Titans. Karina’s machine was the same type as my Ailee. It couldn’t engage in long-range combat, but its speed and precise movements were outstanding. When both sides used the same high-mobility type, proficiency was what mattered. In that case, I couldn’t win. I was gradually coming to feel it in my bones.
The fact that I had been a veteran player of Titan Core didn’t matter much. I who had only played the game knew nothing of real war, but the cadets here were people who had actually piloted real Titans. I might know more about the irregular movements that only worked in the game, but I had far less proper, standard experience. I absolutely could not challenge her in a head-on fight. In that case, I would have to solve it through compatibility.
“So that’s why you chose a heavily armored type?”
“Yes.”
Despite their excellent performance, high-mobility Titans were rarely chosen as exclusive machines for noble families. Most enemies were made up of heavily armored types that were easy to train against, and high-mobility Titans struggled to defeat them. The moment they sacrificed some firepower for mobility and reduced weight, they lacked the means to penetrate heavy armor or shields. Once the distance closed, the heavily armored Titan could simply finish the fight with its superior firepower. That was all it took.
Ian nodded as if my reasoning made sense, then his eyes suddenly widened.
“Ah, but there’s a tiny problem.”
Words that should never come out of an engineer’s mouth.
“They only lent the Titan. The weapons didn’t come.”
Ran and Revan whipped their heads toward him in shock.
“Not a single one?!”
“Not a single one.”
Revan grabbed Ian’s shoulder tightly.
“I-I’ll lend you mine! That should work, right?!”
“That’s why I already checked.”
Ian nodded quickly.
“The weapons Revan’s Titan uses have Titan recognition on the grips, so disabling that would take time. We can borrow the shield immediately.”
Revan frowned slightly. Having another engineer interfere with another pilot’s Titan broke an unwritten rule.
“You didn’t even ask me.”
“Saved time. Total win.”
Revan opened his mouth a little, then looked at me with an expression that said he had nothing left to say. At any rate, it was clear he intended to lend the shield.
Ian continued without paying him any mind.
“Usable weapons are limited. The standard pistol mounted on the Titan, the standard knife, and the borrowed shield. That’s all. We don’t have the money to rent anything else, and even if we did, it’d be a waste to spend it on rentals.”
If we had that money, it would be better spent renting or buying equipment for the joint training. Ian was right.
“Then l-let’s go with this.”
“Confirmed.”
“Opening the hatch!”
At Ailee’s words, the hatch opened. Right before I climbed into the core, Revan urgently grabbed my wrist. It actually hurt.
“How are you going to fight?!”
How? What did he even mean by that?
“I know you’ve been exercising a lot lately and managing your stamina well! But your opponent is a senior who handles high-mobility types way better than you! If you move too aggressively…”
He was saying I might collapse from exhaustion before the joint training even started. I stared at Revan’s face for a moment, then turned my head because it felt a little overwhelming and answered.
“B-by the book?”
It might not be the case for people actually living in this world, but in the Titan Core I played, the way I moved high-mobility types was the standard. I had always fought by the book. It was just that my version of the book didn’t match the average of this world. No matter how much that noble was sharpening her teeth, I only planned to trample her without mercy. I would simply wear her down until she broke.
“…Is that guy crazy?”
Ian muttered. Ran stared at the screen with an exhausted expression. Revan, completely dumbfounded, stood with his mouth slightly open, gazing blankly at the monitor.
Ten minutes since the battle began. Deep had not fired a single shot yet.