“My lord, um...are we okay like this?” asked Little Alshunna, the newest addition to the merry band.
“Hm? Well, we’re all family here. And I’ve learned to compartmentalize your looks and strengths.”
What Little Alshunna was questioning was already a simple fact of life for Sol’s group. As much as Sol understood how terrible the powers his monsters possessed were, he had also come to accept the way they insistently clung to him like children fond of their father. For them, facing Country Eater wasn’t much more momentous than a normal day. The ones who were nervous were the other members of Libertadores who had yet to get used to such situations and still somehow fit within the definition of a human.
Sol’s casual reply indicated that he was probably the furthest from the word “normal” among mankind, but it could be argued that him being this way suited him best as the Boy Who Ruled the Monsters. That said, like most people, he felt he could react with greater flexibility if he stayed relaxed, as opposed to always being tensed up. Being at ease looked similar to being careless, but the nature of the two couldn’t have been more different. Sol’s group just looked a little too nonchalant when at ease; that was all.
Luna chuckled, looking smug for some reason. “Looks like our dear Demon Lord still has much to learn.”
There was definite chagrin on the face of the Demon Lord, so Sol assumed his servants were one-upping each other in a way he didn’t understand. Aina’noa, however, seemed oblivious, as usual.
In sharp contrast to the laid-back monsters and their laid-back master, Reen and the others present were practically a bundle of nerves. The thought that their tetrad would soon be facing history’s most powerful taboo territory boss was affecting them, but that was not all. The outlandish setup of the airship’s bridge was getting to them too. They each had their own seat and were spread out in a fan, with Sol’s seat in the very back. That was fine. He had already done a lot more for them than give them a seat, and it actually made them happy that the arrangement was based on the assumption that they would be with him.
There were multiple display windows before each seat, displaying crucial information in real time. This was fine too. Everything looked so futuristic as to be out of place in this era, but everyone had become familiar with the functions of Player due to the time they had spent with Sol.
What, then, were all four so taken aback by? Put simply, this bridge had no roof. Of course, that was silly and ridiculous. There was a roof, and the girls knew it in their minds. There was no wind in the room, and the temperature and humidity were at comfortable indoor levels. The problem was that the roof was covered entirely in display windows showing the view beyond, creating the visual effect of open air.
That in itself would induce anxiety in most people, but the same thing had been done to the walls and floor too. Sight was the primary way in which humans perceived the world. And at the moment, the girls’ brains were telling them that they were sitting on floating chairs looking down at Country Eater from up high. It would have been different if they were wearing their Numbers armaments, in which they had a certain amount of experience conducting aerial battles. Alas, they were in their usual clothes, albeit wearing their foundation suits in lieu of underwear. Therefore, they felt they were in the open sky with nothing but a chair. No one could relax under such circumstances.
Reen’s seat alone was different from the others. Hers was located in the middle of the bridge area, directly in front of Sol’s seat, and connected to a whole host of instruments. She also had her Numbers armament, Number Nine: Type Kuzuryuu, already deployed, and additionally, she was wearing a special helmet. This helmet, which she did not usually wear in combat, fed her visual and sensory information that the others didn’t receive.
Like hers, Sol’s seat was also clearly meant to be a lot more than just a place to sit. His was a whole device made by Gawain using the auxiliary brain of a monster that could use numerous abilities in parallel. Its purpose was to assist and boost all his Player abilities—it read his mind and, on his behalf, employed skills and abilities in the most optimal way to achieve what he wanted.
Unfortunately, Sol could not put on armis magicka like the Numbers armaments, which were made from materials that still strongly reflected the wills of the monsters they came from. He had tried a few times, but every time, the remnant will had recoiled from him in fear. Even when he forcefully put it on, he couldn’t use a single one of the functions it was equipped with.
There was a simple reason for this: He was covered in the scent of a certain dragon who, by always clinging to him, had basically marked him. To make matters worse, the scent she left was one that a dragon used only for the one they acknowledged as their master. He was, in effect, walking around with Luna screaming to the world that he commanded her absolute loyalty.
Thanks to that, even if he somehow reverted to level 1, he could walk into any monster territory or dungeon without wearing any gear whatsoever and not see a single monster, as they would all run away the moment they sensed him. The effect was similar to how someone could plunge into a jungle after applying army ant pheromone and not have to worry about small insects like wasps, mosquitoes, and flies. Creatures that lived by instinct knew what to do in such situations without being told.
The majority of the materials that Gawain was using to make everything of late came from monsters killed by Luna. These monsters, once proud and haughty but struck down by the equivalent of a mere slap, were absolutely terrified of her. Understandably, they had trouble becoming attached to a being whom she accepted as her superior. And the quality of a piece of equipment didn’t mean anything if it simply wouldn’t work.
Inventions involving materials not imbued with will, like auxiliary brains, were fine. As a result, though Sol remained ineffective as a fighter, the sky was the limit when it came to amplifying his ability to affect fights from the back.
The amount of processing power needed to collect all the information feeding in from Player and analyze, share, and act on it—which included maintaining the all-directional immersive display inside the airship—greatly surpassed what Sol’s brain could manage. Regardless of how many levels he had, he was still physically a human. But that was where a pseudo-biocomputer could help. Though most of it was out of sight, it made up seventy percent of the technomagical function of this airship. It was constantly tapped into his mind and, upon obtaining permission from his subconscious, making full use of his Player abilities.