Six Bikes, One Hunt
Six bikes tore across the open flatlands.
The sun was sinking over the broad, barren plain, drenching the whole earth in crimson light. A majestic engine roar split the air as if rending the sky itself.
Kuuuuwaaang!
The lead red Iron Vanguard kicked up a spray of sand as it cut straight across the road.
Thud!
The bikes lightened their front wheels over a slight rise in the road and cleared it with ease, arriving in moments before a small mountain.
A mountain in name only—barely thirty meters high. More a large hill than anything else. From within its trees, thick demonic energy writhed and coiled.
A black shadow swayed between the trunks. Then the massive beast revealed itself: a Black Foot, its muzzle caked thick with dried blood, yellow eyes flashing as it let out a low, quiet growl.
“So that’s the one.”
Gain, riding at the very front, muttered under his breath.
Behind him Derik and Andersen confirmed the mana beast and steadied their breathing.
“A Black Foot’s top speed is faster than a horse. Fighting in the woods puts us at a disadvantage. We have to draw them out onto open ground.”
“Do we go with the plan?”
“We do.”
Four bikes surged forward, splitting left and right to circle the hill.
On the right flank, one of Derik’s thief subordinates casually unlatched the metal lock behind his seat. The cartridge lid snapped open with a sharp clack.
“Damn. This takes me back.”
The heavy, acrid stench of oil punched him in the nose from the two large drums inside.
The plan was simple: start fires from the foot of the hill and force the beasts out into the open.
One hand steady on the handlebars, he struck two flints together with the other.
Click! Snap!
Fwoooosh!!
A tiny spark drank the oil and ballooned into flame at terrifying speed.
All that remained was to drag that fire all the way around to the far side of the little mountain.
Then a black shadow ghosted through the underbrush.
Shit, that thing’s fast as hell.
He wrenched the handlebars and accelerated hard, one hand locked on the throttle, the other still pouring oil until the last drop.
“Krrrraaaaaaa!!”
Beyond the roaring flames a dark shape moved; a Black Foot dropped from the trees with its jaws wide open.
“Aaaagh!”
He barely twisted clear and twisted the throttle wide open.
Whether he slammed into the dirt or got eaten, the result would be the same. Do or die.
The distance kept shrinking.
“Help me!”
The thief’s scream tore through the air. Somewhere a sharp whoosh answered, and a bolt skimmed past the Black Foot’s skull.
“Hah!”
Between the trees Bazes stood with a crossbow already on its second reload.
In that brief window the thief put more ground between himself and the beast. Bazes waited for the Black Foot to reappear, but it never showed.
“Tch. Ran off, did it.”
The opposite side of the hill played out much the same.
Wendy helped the other thief light the fires while Gain, already positioned at the rear, waited to cut off any Black Foots that tried to flee.
Damn it. Because of these mana beasts we’re reduced to this.
It was only a small mountain, but a fire this large would leave nothing living able to survive here again. Restoring it would take an enormous amount of money and labor.
—If a Fallen One has occupied that place with mana beasts, most of it is already corrupted. Everything that lived there is probably dead anyway. This is how we keep the damage from spreading farther.
Gain’s words—that failing to kill the beasts would only invite greater ruin—had finally decided them on the plan.
Black Foots were troublesome enough to fight head-on, but the real problem was that once they bolted, catching them was nearly impossible.
Fwoooosh…!
Darkness began to settle. In its midst scarlet flames and black smoke clawed toward the sky.
“Your turn now, Andersen.”
“Right.”
Andersen twisted the throttle and rocketed down the slope.
Left hand on the bars, right hand weaving mana, he spun magic into the empty air.
Shimmering heat haze. Skin-prickling warmth. A dozen white-tinged spheres of flame blossomed into existence, long tails of fire trailing as they whirled around his fingers.
“Burn.”
At the word of power the white fireballs streaked away, leaving afterimages as they slammed into the hillside and erupted into pillars of flame.
The existing fires fed on Andersen’s magic and swelled several times over in an instant.
Watching from the rear, Derik stuck a cigarette between his lips and murmured,
“They’ll be coming out soon.”
Black Foots hated and feared fire by nature. The entire operation had been built around that instinct—planned the moment they learned the beasts had nested on this little hill.
The second the flames drove deep into the mountain, the creatures would have no choice but to break cover.
And there was only one exit.
Bwaaaaaaaang!!
Five bikes finished their work and came roaring back toward the choke point.
Then—
“Krrrraaaaaaaa!!”
Through the single stretch where the fire burned weakest, the beasts finally appeared.
Panic was written all over them. The face of the Fallen One riding one of the Black Foots, in particular, was a sight to savor.
Never even imagined we’d pull a stunt like this, did you?
Gain, Bazes, and Wendy had been posted to the north, east, and west just in case the Fallen One caught wind early and tried to bolt. If the warlock who had summoned the Black Foots had any experience with the Demon Eradication Corps, he would have smelled the trap and fled another way.
Looks like he didn’t.
That made everything simpler.
Black smoke climbed the sky. In the wind-lashed flames the massive Black Foots charged the knights as if they were nothing more than prey.
“You fucking lunatic bastards!”
Weco, half his hair singed off by the fire, spewed curses as he took stock of the enemy.
Eight humans astride scrap-metal contraptions he had never seen in his life. Several of the faces were familiar.
Bladewin? And those two…!
The mage and the thieves who had already sent his underlings to the grave.
“Heh heh heh… Fine. You came all this way to have your throats cut yourselves!!”
Those so-called automobiles the Bladewins had been building lately? He had no idea what the things they were riding now even were, and it didn’t matter.
“Charge! Tear every last one of them apart!”
The only thing that mattered was that these idiots had walked straight up and stuck their heads into a Black Foot’s jaws!
Tang!!
A Black Foot launched itself like an arrow, rear legs driving it across the ground, and in a blink it was on top of the blue-haired woman—the one who looked weakest of the lot.
“What’s this? Looking for a fight?”
A blade of silver-white steel sprang from her hip. Silver and blue sapphire glinted in the hilt; snow-like particles drifted without form around the tip.
The temperature plummeted. Ice crystals bloomed around her like flowers and, riding the arc of her sword, slowed the Black Foot’s charge.
Slash!
A long gash opened along the beast’s flank; its foreleg ran red.
Screee—!
At the same instant Wendy laid her bike almost flat against the ground, scraping the earth in a smooth lean, and slipped under the Black Foot’s swipe by a hair.
Thump!
She kicked off the dirt, used a small rock in her path as a springboard, and vaulted upward, driving her blade into the creature’s side.
Squelch—!
“Kyaaaaaaak!”
The Black Foot screamed in agony and staggered back.
Whump…!
The RB 300’s suspension absorbed the landing; Wendy settled safely back onto the earth.
“Hell yeah! That’s more like it!”
An acrobatic technique no one could ever pull off on horseback. She had tried it on pure instinct—and nailed it perfectly.
The Black Foot facing her had never imagined such a move; it gave up its flank in pure confusion.
“Come on, try again, little guy.”
A style of combat she had never once attempted before. It suited her free-spirited nature so perfectly that pure joy flooded through her.
She crooked a finger, beckoning. The beast, still pouring blood, eyed her for a second—then bolted the other way like a shot.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going?!”
Bwaaaaaang!!
Wendy twisted the throttle hard and rocketed after it.
The others were faring much the same.
“Fucking hell!!”
Weco, locked in a duel with Andersen, watched his black magic get casually swatted aside—only for Derik to catch up to the Black Foot’s speed and drive a blade into his arm. After that Weco was too busy running for his life.
Five Black Foots tore across the plain in a storm of dust.
Six bikes chased them at a full, insane sprint.
“What the hell are those things?! How are they keeping up with Black Foots…?!”
The bikes on the straightaway kept accelerating; the gap to the beasts shrank by the second. The Black Foots, already wounded, could not even manage their usual top speed.
Kuguuuuuwaaaaang!!
The low, rolling exhaust note pressed down like a physical threat, more terrifying than anything else.
Moonlight glinted off the blades; it felt as if they were already closing around Weco’s throat.
“Eek!”
Weco was not the only one whose heart hammered.
“Heh heh. You’re all so slow!”
Wendy, wind slamming into her face, wrenched the throttle and surged past the cruiser-style bikes, taking the lead.
Bazes’s brow furrowed; Gain clenched his teeth and pushed his speed higher. Andersen and Derik, still closing from behind, did the same.
“Huh? Wait—?”
Wendy’s initial burst had been the quickest, but one by one the other five bikes overtook her and pulled ahead.
“Wendy. You’re lagging.”
“Great.”
“They’re heading for the Blue Field Territory!”
“We have to take them before they reach Lost Wood!”
Dry plain stretched to the horizon. Racing across that wide-open land, they found themselves—combat or no combat—genuinely enjoying the ride.
It was nothing like galloping on horseback. The stability, the pure sensation of speed, belonged to another dimension entirely.
Hurtling over open earth with a clear view in every direction mixed with the thrill of battle and delivered a pleasure that was almost addictive.
“This is no time to be enjoying yourselves!”
“We know.”
Gain’s bike shot forward, cutting straight through the pack of Black Foots as aura blossomed along his blade.
Aura-form control possible only for a sixth-rank knight. The energy stretched from his sword tip like a whip, coiled around a Black Foot’s leg as it tried to dodge, and severed it clean.
Crunch!!
An astonishing application of aura. The instant one beast went down, three rapid-fire bolts from behind turned a second into a pincushion and dropped it.
Swaaaash!!
Three daggers flew from the right; two skimmed past a Black Foot and the third buried itself in a hind leg.
“Andersen!”
Researching magic engineering with Robon had opened a new realm for him. Extreme efficiency, far greater versatility—his mana control had returned to its former peak.
Magnetic Control
The two daggers that had already flown past made a mid-air U-turn and punched through the Black Foot’s forehead and chest.
Three beasts dropped in moments. Weco could only stare in disbelief.
Screeech!!
The one still bleeding from Wendy’s earlier stab, the one whose fur was blackened and smoldering from a fireball to the rear, and Weco himself, still perched on its back, found themselves surrounded by six bikes and forced to a halt.
“This can’t be… This isn’t possible!”
Knights of that caliber on bikes left him no chance. Even a Black Foot’s legendary speed looked like a joke next to those machines.
“I can’t die like this. I still… I still have to take my revenge on them…!”
Pfft!
A thin needle from Derik struck the pressure point at the base of Weco’s neck.
Thud.
Weco hit the ground, foaming and convulsing.
“You never know what a Fallen One might try. Best to put them down while you still can.”
Andersen nodded in full agreement.
They finished the last two Black Foots, gathered the corpses, bound Weco, and lashed him across a bike.
“We used up the spare mana fuel making room for the oil drums. What now?”
“Best if we stop by Robel. We need to deal with these carcasses anyway.”
Gain nodded.
“We’ll head for Robel. Each of you tie one body behind your seat.”
A vehicle whose silhouette had nothing in common with a cultivator. Something closer to a carriage built entirely of iron plate. The people of the trading company could not hide their shock.
“You’re telling me this thing really moves on its own?”
Unable to contain their curiosity, Jackie, the Rodria trade officer, the knight captain, and Selena all climbed into the Black Terahole V2.
This was the newly upgraded Black Terahole Version 2 that Valkan had just completed—suspension technology learned from Robon, a reworked engine layout, reinforced tires, and a host of other refinements.
It still fell short of anything Robon himself had built, but compared to the previous model it was on an entirely different level.
“I don’t believe this…”
Their reactions were almost identical to the first time they had ridden in Robon’s car. Erdin, at the wheel, savored their expressions and pressed the accelerator harder.
They left the heart of Robel and swept in a wide arc through the rice paddies and fields.
How is this possible… carrying this many people and still going this fast?
With something like this, trade becomes so much easier…
Swallowing the Pacific Merchant Guild isn’t even the real issue. This is… this is an absurd means of transport!
Hector was telling the truth…!
All four passengers remained trapped in stunned silence.
Watching the landscape blur past and the manor draw near again, every one of them rewrote their plans on the spot.
Raven is going to steal the Pacific Merchant Guild’s place.
Of course. Jackie’s already calculating how to elbow Hector aside and claim this territory for himself, isn’t he?
Selena’s gaze turned ice-cold.
Not if I have anything to say about it, Jackie.