The Lizard Sheds Its Tail
This rag was done for.
“Hup.”
Nobak held his breath and yanked his right arm back. The leopard's stance crumbled with its hind leg seized. Once the posture broke, its center of gravity went haywire, making resistance all but impossible.
The leopard's body floated up. A hefty beast like that was bound to come crashing down in midair, and Nobak's shoulder gave it an extra shove.
His arm whipped downward. Naturally, the leopard—now a living club—smashed into the ground.
The thud hadn't even faded when he grabbed it with both hands and swung again. Even as he did, Nobak's eyes darted repeatedly toward Allen.
The Box did the same. It caught the mana shot fired to save their pitiful comrade and swung the leopard into its path, colliding with it.
“Pointless nonsense.”
The Box kept firing mana shots, and each time, the leopard-bat battered them away.
Nobak glanced at Allen again. He was attaching a thick arm, staring right back.
'Planning to fire mana shells like before?'
Deeming it enough, Nobak shifted the direction of his swing. He intended to hurl the leopard straight at Allen—but then.
Ziiing!
A thin heat ray grazed past his neck. Continuous bursts of flame from the explosions masked the flash, so he couldn't react. Luckily, only the iron plate patched over his neck got scorched.
As planned, Nobak tossed the leopard and closely pursued its flight path. He didn't know Allen's scheme, but using the beast as a shield to close in was the idea.
It was a solid plan. If the leopard had been a fresh automaton just caught from the Labyrinth.
But this one, reinforced and upgraded by Allen's modifications, twisted its body midair with feline grace. Nobak's gaze lingered for a split second.
Of course, only for a moment—drawing on his experience, he snapped back and shoved the leopard's torso hard with his palm. It would have gone as intended.
“Kuh!”
Nobak staggered. The cause: metal claws digging into his leg, connected to a wire that led to Allen's inner wrist.
Already off-balance from running and shoving the leopard, Nobak teetered. His eyes still tracked Allen.
'Damn it.'
Fired wires from someone who couldn't even control his own body properly, and here he was stumbling. Rage boiled at being bested by Allen's frail frame.
Allen focused on manipulating the wire. Nobak's weight and his own poor physique threw off his balance, but it wasn't a big issue.
He fired another wire from his left arm, locking down Nobak's other leg. Then, like reeling in a fish, he yanked hard.
The wire—twisted from metal and monster tendons—went taut. Nobak at the end struggled to rise.
'Mount him.'
At Allen's signal, the leopard leaped onto Nobak's back. Its internal circuits were fried, more than half its mana claws dark, but its metal sharpness was plenty in this situation.
Sparks flew wherever the claws raked, oil and coolant leaking from torn armor.
No blood despite the deep gashes showed just how extensively Nobak had been modified.
Anyway, it was an opportunity. In case of a hidden ace, Allen attempted a hack from a safe distance.
'Firewall's thick, as expected.'
Even the spiders he'd used to hack the DT-10 before—Nobak crushed them however he could, desperately avoiding direct connection.
Taylor and Shiba's vitals were stable; the screams from the smoke were all cartel thugs'.
Plenty of time, then. Allen tried remote hacking. The leopard handled physical attacks; he'd take mental.
Pain wracked the body, the mind frayed. Shaken focus made mana surge wildly, cracking magic resistance wide open.
'Got it.'
Allen's mind touched Nobak's artificial Mana Heart. Whether he'd switched after Allen got him before, or it was always this, who knew.
As Allen prodded the Star Letters in the soul stone, Nobak's output grew wildly unstable. As a magitech expert, he knew exactly what was happening.
Glaring at Allen while shoving off the leopard, Nobak's face hardened with resolve.
Psssh!
Suddenly, steam jetted from Nobak's entire body. Not as thick as smoke, but it blurred outlines slightly.
Clang!
Something collided, and the leopard's bulk rolled back hard. Simultaneously, Nobak rocketed upward. Jets from his palms and soles mimicked rocket thrusters.
The behavior matched. Like a rocket staging, his limbs detached one by one. Soaring high, he vanished into the factory smoke.
Golem prosthetic debris littered the path below.
'Lizard tail, huh?'
The smoke began to clear. Taylor and Shiba came into view, along with the sprawled cartel members.
Taylor, soot-streaked and bloodied, eyed Allen.
“Did it go like I told ya?”
“Just called him ugly, and he got pissed.”
“Personal attack, sure, but kinda lame.”
Taylor recalled Nobak's face.
“Might've worked... Anyway, back in Ranka, you never traded insults with friends?”
“Liked books more...”
“No friends, got it.”
“No, I had some. But my condition kept me home a lot, so mostly alone.”
Truth was, few memories with peers. Taylor might be right.
Heading toward the factory, Shiba—who'd overheard—piped up.
“Hold on, Brother Taylor. Didn't you say last time you'd only teach Brother Allen good things? Provocation? Lowly words linger in your own heart too.”
“Taunting's a fine weapon. Anger disrupts mana flow, destabilizes output control, burns through mana faster. Clouds judgment too.”
Taylor and Shiba differed, but no time for debate. They were still in combat.
Stepping over thugs on the cleared factory grounds, they entered the building. Chaos echoed from inside.
Taylor, wrapped in Shiba's Embrace of Mercy, went first, trusting the white barrier and his physique.
His faith proved well-founded—no attacks came. The thugs had claimed prime spots inside; Kaka and Nobak overlooked from the second-floor office.
Kaka, half his pointed nose gone, growled down at them.
“Know who the original owner of those eyes was?”
“Why yap about that when you're about to get wrecked?”
As Taylor raised his weapon, Allen stopped him.
“Let's hear him out first.”
“Curiosity first?”
Allen shrugged. Partly yes, and his spiders needed time to infiltrate. With them quiet, Kaka continued.
“Lady Sandra herself. Thought Aroma was safe from interference, handed it off... Never dreamed her livestock would steal it...”
Kaka glared at Nobak. He'd swapped to normal limbs, but his face looked a decade older.
Taylor shouted.
“The Sandra I know?”
“Obviously!”
Sandra was a pureblood elf barely clinging to her lineage. Mixed-blood elves lived to 120; purebloods just over 200.
What became of an elf devoting centuries to magic? A mage rivaling humans, naturally.
Success brought acclaim, but there was a infamous case: the Seamstress Sandra.
The Saldos Federation spanned the New Continent from north to south hemispheres. East from Allen's Aroma lay vast rainforests, where Sandra lurked as a witch.
An international criminal on par with collectors.
Allen doubted it. If truly Sandra's, she wouldn't send just cartel grunts.
Or she was hiding the theft, or connected but low-tier—like a disciple's item.
Allen listened closely. No reason to refuse info, even if laced with lies.
“Those eyes were made by Katan's...”
Allen's eyes widened—his facial muscles most active lately.
Katan: top of any list for Star Letter deciphering and premier magitech engineer. Hearing that name quickened Allen's long-stagnant pulse. Such a treasure in his eyes?
“...disciple's disciple...”
His heart settled. Still, techniques learned from Katan, he hoped.
'Not an Oparts?'
Doubt crept in too. Absorbing an Oparts soul stone screamed Oparts, yet “made”? Enemy words weren't gospel.
“Last chance. Hand over the eyes, and we leave peacefully. Or face Lady Sandra's wrath.”
Time to respond. Before dropping explosive spiders, Allen resumed the hack.
Cornered enough to shed limbs and flee, Nobak couldn't fend it off.
Bang!
Something popped small; Nobak spewed blood from his mouth and collapsed backward. Out of sight in the office, but Kaka's reaction told all.
“That's my answer.”
End
Taylor's artificial eyes locked on the office. Sensing mana or using see-through, checking Nobak.
“Still alive, barely. Twitching like that, won't get up anytime soon.”
“Overloaded the artificial Mana Heart, fried every circuit. Better off dead.”
Mana's omnipotence and addiction outdid drugs—no side effects, losing that soul-high brought unimaginable void.
During the standoff, Allen's spiders infiltrated; the Box, down from the roof, reclaimed a prime firing spot.
Kaka growled threats, major force Nobak gone in a flash, but he seemed just a scared cat, fur bristled.
“Nobak? Snap out of it. You lot, when Lady Sandra finds out, you won't survive. You'll beg for death.”
“Mana disruption, unstable breathing, pupil dilation... Classic lying tells, all observed.”
Allen's clear voice echoed in the quiet factory. Taylor smirked at fidgeting Kaka.
“Knew it. Real Sandra's gear? No way she'd send just thugs. She'd attach disciples or underlings for the job.”
“Some connection, at least.”
“Still just a disciple. Folks like Sandra treat 'em as expendable. Kill a few, she won't bat an eye.”
“No! He's Lady Sandra's favorite...”
“See? Tongue's wagging. Whoa, he's bolting.”
Kaka vanished from the window; Taylor lunged but Allen stopped him.
“No. Not that. He's coming down the stairs.”
Kaka dragged one of Nobak's arms, head banging iron steps with dull thuds, ignored.
Orc-sized Kaka revealed goblin cowardice in crisis. Humans did the same—no need to cling to stereotypes.
“Spare my life?”
Allen eyed Nobak over kneeling Kaka. Overload smoked from the neck port; circuits all toasted. Drool pooled from his mouth, body twitching meaninglessly.
“This what happened to you too?”
“Actions similar, but internal state-wise, this one's