WeTried Translations

Translator: Hydrogen B

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◈ Omniscient First-Person's Viewpoint

Chapter 205

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Land Flowing Like a River - 7

The not-quite-an-attack kept coming, and Historia was visibly displeased by the endless guerrilla harassment using the Beast King.

"...Damn it."

The Gunslinger Corps. Historia's own multipurpose long-range suppression unit.

They had rushed ahead, dug in far forward, and poured out bullets.

Their goal was a delaying action: repeat scouting and suppression, and keep dragging the enemy's feet until the main force arrived. They spent their supplied salt rounds without holding back as they drove the enemy off.

They had even managed to repel the Progenitor, if only briefly.

But what appeared next was unexpected.

'The King of Dogs?'

If the boy with the invisible sword had rushed out instead, she could have simply nodded and faced him herself.

But the King of Dogs, armored in thick plating, was not a target they should engage, and not an easy one to engage anyway. They had no rounds to waste, so Historia immediately ordered a ceasefire.

And so the King of Dogs trotted straight into the middle of the Gunslinger Corps without any interference. The unit kept glancing at her, nerves stretched tight. She might not be able to harm people directly, but she was still a monster that could wreck a base just by thrashing around.

Historia moved in to drive him out herself. Then one soldier pointed.

"Major! On her back!"

Only then did Historia realize something was strapped to the King of Dogs' back. While she hesitated over whether to shoot it, the bag on her back suddenly swelled.

It was tear gas.

It lasted only a moment, but the Gunslinger Corps, who had been aiming at the containers, screamed in pain. Even in the middle of that chaos, they had to keep aiming because of Historia's shouted order.

The King of Dogs rolled on the ground in pain too, but still, they were the side that got hit.

'They're grinding our nerves down.'

They had taken favorable positions and fired one-sidedly to pressure the other side. Yet the enemy didn't tense up at all; they just kept tormenting them with every trick they had.

The King of Dogs would run out, bark her head off, then run back. Rounds were wasted. Historia got fed up and ordered them to fire only at the Progenitor, and right on cue the King of Dogs popped out wearing a pitch-black parasol. The already jumpy soldiers reflexively fired special rounds.

If she told them not to shoot and to observe first, then the real Progenitor appeared. People screamed.

Each time that random box opened and no one knew what would come out, the Gunslinger Corps' nerves stretched and snapped back like rubber bands dozens of times, until they finally lost all elasticity and sagged.

It was a familiar method. One of the military state's standard doctrines.

'So this is your operation, Hui. You always said that if an army is a gathering of people, the same psychological warfare used on people works on it too.'

The military state's combat doctrine was simple. Regular soldiers or officers burned through energy or mana, then senior commanders led by the Six Generals cleaned up. That was all.

Before Historia appeared, regular soldiers were treated as little more than annoying flies, expendable.

Historia, who fired guns with energy, was the final missing piece the military state had wanted. By adding threatening gunfire to suppressive fire, regular soldiers rose from disposable cards to pieces that could be used strategically.

'Right. Like the King of Dogs right now.'

Watching the King of Dogs trudge back, Historia sank into thought.

'The King of Dogs is harmless. But we don't know what she might be carrying on her back, so we still have to stay alert.'

Maybe the King of Dogs herself wouldn't kill anyone. So what? No one knew what was inside that bag. Because of that, every Gunslinger Corps soldier had to stay on guard at all times.

While the King of Dogs, whom this side had classified as noncombat strength, was being used strategically, this side's own strength remained unchanged. Naturally, they were forced into a defensive position.

'Hah. You still drive straight into weak points until it hurts...'

She had just finished that thought.

Through her sights, Historia was watching one container that looked strangely less saturated than the others. A supply officer approached after a short salute.

"Major. We're out of rounds...."

"I already contacted the communications officer. Receive supplies at the next point."

"...I'll prepare for it."

Even with supplies on the way, strength did not return to the officer's steps. Fundamentally, it wasn't just ammunition that had run dry.

Mental stamina and concentration were resources too.

'...This is dangerous. If they rush us now, we're in trouble.'

Under the tightening tension around her whole body, Historia smiled without realizing it. Her body heated up before the coming fight.

It was the perfect timing.

Their rate of fire had dropped, and when Azzy appeared, their response was slow. Delayed reactions could be a reflex issue, sure, but there was also psychological reluctance to spend rounds. Their ammo was clearly low.

The sun was high enough too, so I rose with a challenging smile.

"It's about time. We're suspending Azzy delivery service for now. Azzy has done enough work."

It was true, we had gotten plenty of mileage out of our bomb-delivery puppy strategy.

Azzy couldn't harm people. If a lethal bomb was strapped to her back, she'd run toward where there were no humans.

But what about tear gas? A bomb that didn't kill people, only hurt them. That gave us a way to use Azzy strategically despite her being unable to attack humans. And the regressor happened to be carrying wind bombs....

"Grrrrrrrrr."

...Though in exchange, Azzy seemed to have become strategically hostile to me. I flinched, set down pre-grilled meat in front of her, and spoke as gently as I could.

"Azzy, you're the best! No combat dog performs like you!"

"Grrrrrrrrrrrrr."

Huh? She should've liked that much praise.

Her nose was red from all the sneezing, mucus running from it. Her eyes were red too, and not from sentiment, but from hostility, like I'd touched a reverse scale.

As I wiped her eyes and nose with a damp handkerchief, I said,

"Here, let's eat. I won't forget your hard work."

"Grrr. Share."

"No, what even is this 'share'?"

"Grrrr."

"Fine. You're basically a gangster. I'll give you a share, okay? Take care of it yourself!"

"...Woof! Ten percent!"

Ten percent already? For what exactly? What happens when it reaches a hundred?

Before I could check, Azzy relaxed, sat down, and started chewing the meat. Usually she enjoyed dog food well enough, but right now she looked like she was chewing up a mortal enemy.

Best to match her mood for a while. Yeah.

"If you pretend not to know me later, I won't like it?"

"...Yeah, got it. I'll take good care of you. Like I'd ever pretend not to know you."

"Woof!"

She seemed to be in a better mood, but I had no idea why, which made it scary. Still, she had worked hard. That much was true, so I had to acknowledge it.

I left Azzy sniffling over her meat, then beckoned Tyr and the regressor, who had both stayed low until now.

"We've been bowing our heads too long before the violence of numbers, right? Shall we go get our revenge?"

As if she had been waiting, Tyr slung her parasol over her shoulder. A faint smile sat at the corner of her mouth.

"Let us do so. I will teach those prey, who believed the sun made them safe from darkness, a lesson."

The regressor, who had been calmly gathering strength, finished preparing as well.

"Let's break through quickly. If we suppress the Gunslinger, everything gets much easier."

Our strength was full. No exhaustion. On the other side, they were a disorganized bunch mentally worn down by Azzy.

The perfect chance had arrived. On this chessboard, we had two cards: the regressor and Tyr. They had one: Historia.

Hahaha. This battle is mine, Historia. You haven't forgotten who completed your tactics for you, right? I know your weak points inside out.

Come on, then. Look at the power of first place, the one you ignored. Form is temporary, ranking is forever!

The container door flew open, and Tyr advanced alone with a pitch-black coffin.

So far, Azzy had dashed out about five times carrying Tyr's parasol. Because of that, the ones who swore they wouldn't be fooled anymore held back and watched first, even when they saw the dark parasol.

But Tyr's appearance was different from Azzy's from the very start. The moment she showed herself under the sun, the Gunslinger Corps soldiers felt as if fog had formed before their eyes. It felt as though darkness itself, the darkness that existed in this world, was walking toward them, and ordinary humans felt a chill run down their spines.

Bullets rained down on Tyr, but this Tyr was a little different from before.

Streams of darkness flowed from the floating coffin. Under sunlight, the darkness had faded a little, but that only made it more ominous. The moment the lid opened, it felt like the hands of a clock spun wildly and evening arrived.

The terrifying incoming rounds could not pierce the Veil of Darkness. Sometimes a salt round flashed and split the darkness, but that was all. They had spent too much; they no longer had enough to tear the veil apart.

Tyr walked forward like a tank. When she swept space with one hand, the bullets that failed to penetrate the veil were brushed aside all at once.

Taang.

Then a single shot rang out. The veil swirled and tore open, and Tyr's head snapped to the side behind it.

Someone in the Gunslinger Corps clenched a fist and shouted.

"It's the Major's bullet! How does it taste, monster...!"

But he couldn't finish the line. Over Tyr's left eyebrow, a small whirl of blood spun in step with the rotating bullet and pushed it away.

As the corps member drew a breath, Tyr's red eyes glinted and she said,

"...Monster, is it? I've heard that word so often, it stirs nothing in me now."

Tyr turned her head back. Historia's bullet couldn't stop even her face and bounced away.

"Go on, fire. The sun is shining, after all. This moment, while the hot light curses me, is your only chance to weaken this body. Go on."

After a brief calculation, Tyr gave a crooked smile.

"If you fire as much as one hundred times one hundred, you may make things rather difficult for me."

Just as she said, the blood scorched by sunlight had darkened black. If all her blood aura were scorched like this, even Progenitor Tyrkanzyaka would be in danger.

But that was only a single handful drawn from a distant sea of blood.

Historia lowered her muzzle, eyes sinking cold.

'Rounds that consume this much stamina per shot can't finish this. I'll run dry first. Now that our salt rounds are depleted....'

Historia finished her thought, then raised both pistols. Heavy pistols loaded with stockpiled rounds settled into her hands. Feeling the cold weight of metal, she said,

"I'll hold her until the main force arrives. Reform your lines and fall back."

"Major, it's too dangerous! We were told never to engage the Progenitor directly...!"

"Then what do you want me to do when they come asking for a fight?"

Historia snapped irritably and stepped forward.

Before she could even complete that step, she sensed something ominous above. Historia urgently aimed at empty air and fired.

Bang, ting. The gunshot and ricochet came almost together. Right after that, someone dropped like a meteor into the middle of the Gunslinger Corps.

"Who do you think you're fighting? Your opponent is me!"

While their attention was fixed on Tyr, the regressor had shot into the sky and came down with a massive storm. The instant she landed, she slammed Jizan down, and both earth and air started shaking. Earthquake and storm, impacts from both sides rocked everyone and made them lose balance for a moment.

As if by prior promise, the two warriors charged the moment they landed. Without an inch of hesitation, they swung their weapons at each other.

Clang. Crossed guns caught Skywarbler. Sparks burst from grinding steel, and the two women locked eyes.

"Major!"

At that shout, Historia yelled back without even turning.

"Don't worry about me! Stop the Progenitor!"

"Hah, you think you can do this alone?!"

The regressor shouted and twisted her wrist. The invisible blade that rode up the slanted pistol line shot toward Historia's face. Watching the wavering sword tip clearly, Historia smirked.

"Alone? That's my line, cutie."

Historia dropped her body in an instant.

She pulled her waist back and laid herself parallel to the ground. Holding a razor-thin balance in that posture, she kicked out with the opposite leg. The regressor briefly lost sight of her, her center pulled forward, and hurriedly raised a knee to block the kick.

Thump, a clean impact. The regressor flew into the air, flipped, and landed on the belt. She clicked her tongue softly, and the Gunslinger strode toward her.

"You too, can you survive until the Progenitor gets here?"

In her hands, two pistols fitted with blades spun round and round.

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