Dad Is Awesome! (8)
Undead were a staple that every corner of subculture had stewed, simmered, and wrung dry until not even marrow remained.
Even in twenty-second-century RPGs, undead monsters never failed to make an appearance. Skeletons, zombies, specters, dullahan—the list went on and on.
But the material players craved most, and the one developers poured the greatest effort into, was always the Death Knight.
A knight who refused death. A knight risen again with a grudge. Death Knights came loaded with narratives worthy of the name—and combat prowess to match their reputation.
Some players insisted bone dragons were grander and more imposing, but even they never denied how cool Death Knights were.
The game where I'd ranked number one before becoming a minion had a Death Knight character, for crying out loud. That said it all.
So when it came to the final minion Chichiking would send out—the one he trusted most—I could already guess the species.
Player — Chichiking has sent out his final minion.
Minion —
Death Knight Lord Cha-cha
Despite being undead, she had a human appearance. But her skin—so pale it went past white into deathly pallor—made it clear she was no living being.
"So it has come to my turn at last."
Cha-cha swept back hair beautiful enough for a shampoo commercial and donned her helmet. Her lovely forehead and captivating eyes sank into darkness.
That darkness became a spotlight, throwing her sharp nose and small, thin lips into sharp relief.
True to a knight of death, she wore pitch-black armor—though the breastplate swelled unnaturally, hinting at the volume hidden beneath.
In a single word: viable. Death Knight Lord Cha-cha was an absolute beauty.
"Yohan! Don't you dare fall for a honey trap!"
Sophia, who understood the operating principles of my behavior better than anyone, fired off a warning. Chichiking radiated displeasure.
"Who… would use a honey trap…"
"Mad Demon. This lady places her trust in thee."
"Yeah! Lan-lan-i's watching too!"
"Mad Demon's watching!"
My women made a huge fuss. Anyone listening would think I was some guy obsessed with women.
They saw right through me. I was a guy obsessed with women. A woman-crazy bastard, for short.
"Don't worry."
The world had a taste called necrophilia. So getting hard looking at Cha-cha was perfectly natural.
"What a distasteful gaze."
Cha-cha made her discomfort plain. Like a proper knight from a fantasy setting, she drew a longsword and leveled it at me.
"But your physique is decent. Are you a knight?"
"No. Sex."
Sophia and Cheonsol both pressed their foreheads at the same time.
"What's sex?"
"Lan-lan-i has no need to know that yet. Once the battle ends—grrk—this lady shall correct the Mad Demon's foul mouth."
If correction worked, Sophia would have fixed me already. Cheonsol still didn't know me well enough.
"Cha-cha… that human is insane… pay him no mind…"
"Yes, my lord. I shall take it to heart."
"Show them your worth…"
Trainer — Chichiking is ready.
"Yohan! I mean it, no! Lan-lan-i's watching! You know that, right?"
Trainer — Sophia is ready.
"Of course I know."
Early education mattered. Our Lan-lan-i needed to know what she needed to know. Honestly, sex ed in Confucian countries was way too half-assed. I would become a pioneer and seeker of sexual education.
"Come."
The Death Knight summoned a spectral steed. Unlike ordinary skeletal horses, this one wore barding—looking strong enough on its own to thrash most minions.
"Summoning a mount is cheating."
This was cavalry versus barefoot infantry. I didn't even have a shield. All I had was a tough body and a longsword against a fully armored knight.
"A knight ought to master horsemanship. So the Mad Human is no knight."
"I'm too old to get high on knight-cosplay."
"Haha! Knight-cosplay, is it!"
Astride her spectral steed, Cha-cha unleashed a gaze so fierce even the darkness couldn't hide it.
"To scorn knighthood—arrogant beyond measure, utterly mad. Now I see why they call you the Mad Human."
Cha-cha lifted the lance hanging at her steed's flank.
"I shall show you what a true knight is!"
"Hiiihiiing!"
Lance raised, Cha-cha charged. It was only a single knight's charge, yet it felt like a mountain bearing down.
Yes. Cha-cha was a different caliber from every undead rabble I'd faced so far. Even going all-out, my odds were slim.
Clop clop clop
As the spectral steed accelerated, sand sprayed from every hoofprint, kicking up dust. Sweeping through that sandstorm, Cha-cha was knighthood itself.
The deathly aura unique to undead coiled around Cha-cha and her steed, and the pressure only grew. How was I supposed to handle this?
Cha-cha didn't even give me time to think. In the blink of an eye she was on me, thrusting her lance.
If the pressure was mountain-like, then crush it.
"Mountain Press."
I stepped forward and brought my sword down. The tip of my blade met the tip of her lance.
CLANG!
An impact strong enough to tear the grip of my sword hand slammed into me. The blade, unable to withstand the force, shuddered and gave way.
The lance aimed for my throat. The spectral steed's massive bulk tried to trample me flat.
A head-on clash really was impossible. I abandoned stubbornness and threw myself sideways. I rolled hard enough to coat myself in sand, then scrambled up—just in time to see Cha-cha finishing her turn.
"Haha!"
What kind of girl laughs with a haha? She should be going hoho. That was the kind of garbage that would make a feminist lose her mind, but I didn't say it out loud.
The lance charge began again. Frontal combat was out, so I had to dodge—but move too early and Cha-cha would adjust her angle.
If I was in a stance that couldn't transfer power into the sword, the lance would skewer me. So I stared Cha-cha down, enduring the crushing pressure.
"Even after nearly dying, you have not lost your fighting spirit! Your resolve alone I shall commend!"
I waited until the absolute last moment. My body, crushed by the pressure, whispered for me to run—but I clenched my teeth and held firm.
Earth's history books recorded dozens of infantry tactics for taking down knights. They'd devised all kinds of weapons and formations, but the core was one thing.
Unhorse them.
"Die already!"
I twisted my body clear of the lance. Cha-cha, as if she'd expected it, angled the tip slightly to still pierce me—but I was a fraction faster.
The lance grazed my shoulder. Even a graze gouged out flesh, and a sharp pain flared.
Worse, the spectral steed was faster than I'd anticipated. I'd originally planned to slash through the barding protecting its legs, but I'd just have to trust Self-Healing and tank it with my body.
I stretched my limbs out and flopped flat on the ground. The spectral steed kicked me as it thundered past.
"Hiiihiiing!"
For an instant, pain so intense it stopped my breath wrapped my entire body. But it was still less than a Mechanic's laser. Weaker than the flames of Cheonsol that had once burned me alive.
I swallowed the coppery blood and forced myself up. Cha-cha couldn't complete her turn—she was busy calming the spectral steed.
"Fly!"
The steed, reeling as if about to collapse, stepped on empty air. One leg had snapped from slamming into an Iron Man body harder than most boulders—but the undead horse kept its balance on the remaining three.
"To think you had prepared such a ploy. A fine attempt. But what now?"
"What do you mean, what now."
Self-Healing.
The agony from being struck by the spectral steed vanished, and flesh filled back into my shoulder. With a callused hand, I gripped the blood-slick, sticky sword.
"So you can heal. But did you think you alone possessed such means?"
Cha-cha poured out deathly aura, and the spectral steed's leg restored itself. She had a repair skill too? What a cheap-ass battle.
"I've done enough."
"So you surrender."
Who said anything about surrendering.
"Lady Sophia. You saw that, right? I gave it my all."
"Huh?"
"Let's not say anything about this."
"Mad Demon, go!"
Matching Lan-lan-i's cheer, I activated a skill.
"Impregnating."
Impregnating
Please designate a target.
▸ Death Knight Lord Cha-cha
▸ Spectral Steed
"The horse… was a female too?"
Amazing!
"Hey! Yohan! Hup! No! Hssss!!"
Sophia must have overheard my muttering, because she shouted in a panic. No matter how much of a "if it's possible, I'll do it" guy I was, I didn't actually want to rail a horse.
Suddenly a classic meme I'd seen online floated up. People said horse pussy was that good, apparently.
"Mad Demon! This lady hopes thou wilt not commit the act she is imagining! Do not cast aside the dignity of humankind!"
"Why are they… acting like that…"
"Distasteful."
If the only opponent had been the spectral steed, I wouldn't have hesitated to use Impregnating—but with two targets split between them, I had to give it up.
What if I used it on Cha-cha, only managed to catch the horse, and the duration ran out? I reminded myself of the original goal: unhorse her.
"Fire Truck Game."
Target: the spectral steed.
It wasn't as much as when I used Impregnating, but a solid surge of monstrous strength welled up. This would be enough.
I drove both feet into the sand like burying a cock in a pussy and declared:
"Come."
"Your presence has changed."
Cha-cha condensed an ominous aura into her lance.
"Mad Human though you may be—one who has steeled his resolve deserves fitting treatment."
"Prrrrh."
The knight snorting her steed charged. A lance charge freed from the shackles of the ground shot forth like a thunderbolt.
I'd already confirmed that a ronin's swordsmanship, optimized for fighting humans, wouldn't work here. A medieval knight had to be met with a knight's swordsmanship.
I recalled the Death Knight's blade work—straightforward and tyrannical. The crushing weight of plate mail, I replaced with an Iron Man's body. Unable to sense mana, I couldn't use the thousand-catty drop from martial arts novels, but I compensated the same way—burying my ankles in the sand and trusting Iron Man's flesh.
My overstrained body creaked as if it would collapse any second, but I endured and poured every ounce of strength into the longsword.
The heavily descending blade collided with the lance, reenacting that first clash. The longsword cracked, my wrist twisted, my body was shoved back—yet I did not yield.
At last the sword knocked the lance aside. Cha-cha tried desperately to recover, but the spectral steed, unable to overcome its own acceleration, drove its body straight into the longsword.
CRACK-SHING
The longsword that punched through the barding split in half. Forcing my descending arm back up, I used the remaining half of the blade to rip open the spectral steed's belly.