As the main force of the 1st Armored Division stayed behind to secure their way out, Dustin listened in on the ongoing battle through the Para-RAID. He didn’t join the detachment that’d gone to eliminate the Morpho, of course. He lacked the skills, so much so that Anju had explicitly told him not to come along.
It felt presumptuous of him to feel jealous or envious. Despite the battle only having started a short time ago, it was already approaching its climax. As the other Valkyries were forced to stop in their tracks because of the Morpho’s desperate counterattack, Undertaker alone—as had become his trademark—lunged forward. The headless Reaper gambled on a one-on-one, relying on his transcendent combat skills, which none of the elite Eighty-Six, to say nothing of powerless Dustin, could hope to match.
…But—at that point, Dustin thought—he didn’t save Citri.
For how strong Shin was, unlike Dustin, he didn’t consider saving Citri, a fellow Eighty-Six.
You really are strong, Shin. Why didn’t you…?
I…
—How long will this continue?!
I shouted those words, even though I couldn’t change things, even though I was blind to how powerless I was.
Such thoughts haunted Dustin’s mind, in the midst of combat and the middle of the battlefield. Despite being a Republic Processor who lacked the skill and experience of an Eighty-Six or a Republic soldier, he let anguish dominate his mind.
And in the sense that he let anguish distract him—yes, he was weak.
“Dustin!”
Who was it who called out to him in warning? By the time he snapped out of his thoughts, there was a shell approaching him from overhead.
“…Ah.”
The shell hit.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Dustin!”
It wasn’t a tank shell, but an unguided projectile, and while it wasn’t a direct hit, it did strike from point-blank.
With a 155 mm shell that could blow a Vánagandr to bits on a direct hit exploding at his flank, Sagittarius took severe damage and got blown away. They were fighting in a thick forest in the steep mountains. Sagittarius rolled deep into the verdant darkness, disappearing past the veil of snow.
The Para-RAID cut off. His blip on the radar screen went out, too. Frederica wasn’t back yet. His squadmate who shouted the warning, Yuu, instantly exclaimed:
“Kurena, we need to rescue him!”
Kurena examined her radar screen for a few seconds, looking over the blips for the units under her command, the enemy distribution, and the spots where enemy reinforcements and predicted ambushes were before making her call. She spoke with the sternness of a commander on the field, who had to instantly read multiple sources of information and think fast on her feet.
“We can’t. If we cut into our forces any more, this entire area will fall apart.”
They were holding on, waiting for Shin and the others’ return, so they could move to more advantageous terrain. If they let forces move out from their unit while they were fighting to maintain a defensive line, all the forces under Kurena’s command could end up being wiped out.
“I can go alone—”
“I can’t approve that. This isn’t a range where you can look for him and get back on your own. And we don’t have time to wait for you to do that, either.”
Marcel picked up on the situation and analyzed the point where Dustin had crashed and the terrain there. It was a ravine that was deeper than it looked. There was no way to tell where his unit had rolled off to, or if it might have gotten caught on something. And if his unit was heavily damaged and crashed into a ravine, there was no way of telling if Dustin had survived. They couldn’t afford to send Yuu into danger if Dustin was dead. If Frederica was there, they’d have been able to at least confirm if he was alive, but she wasn’t.
One of the staff officers made an announcement: Dustin Jaeger was designated MIA. They were to continue their retreat.
“Your decision wasn’t wrong, Second Lieutenant Kukumila… Don’t make it harder on her, Second Lieutenant Kouzo.”
“…Roger.”
As she heard Yuu respond hoarsely, Kurena closed her eyes in regret for a moment.
I’m sorry, Dustin, Anju.
✦ ✦ ✦
The wires were simply swung and released, making their trajectory straight without allowing for any tricks. And with his dynamic vision accustomed to melee combat with Grauwolf and even Phönix, Shin was able to easily dodge them.
In a split second, he was able to discern a path that would let him weave through the gaps in countless wires and slide Undertaker into that narrow region. As he moved, he input the command to switch his armament.
The enemy’s 800 mm turret, with its hundreds of tons of weight, couldn’t instantly change the direction of its swing. With nothing in his way, Shin swiftly strode pass the cannon. With the thirty-meter long barrel now reduced to nothing but an expensive bludgeon, Shin crept into the dragon’s flank. As he turned his eyes, spotting the silvery liquid metal bubble in the corner of his vision, his sights moved along with his gaze and aligned on the target.
“…I’ve seen this before, too.”
It could narrowly wind and coil the liquid metal forming its barrel to turn them into countless thin blades or convert them into spears that it could launch from its barrel. Undertaker fired HEAT rounds with a timed fuse, which burst and splattered the liquefied projectiles within the barrel. The Phönix he’d fought on the northern battlefield used its liquid metal armor to unleash projectiles in exactly the same way.
When the Morpho saw what was probably its trump card get effortlessly disposed of, its giant form oafishly and, this time, clearly cowered. It tried to crawl away on its legs covered in mud. The large dragon was desperately scrambling off, even though it could still try to kick Undertaker away or beat it with its barrel.
It was weakness. The weakness of choosing hatred, letting hatred stain you but not even being able to follow through on that hatred.
“—Pathetic.”
It started swinging its barrel—not so much to intercept Shin but more like an infant batting their arms around in a blind, frightened tantrum—only for Shin to fire his wire anchor onto the edge of the turret. Leaping up, he reeled the wire back, traveling much farther than his usual jumping distance to reach the top of the turret.
As the toxic dragon Nidhogg crawled over the ground, looking up at the sky, the Valkyrie Reginleif lorded over it, with the blue, unreachable heavens at her back.
✦ ✦ ✦
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Nouzen’s being stupid and trying to beat it on his own again!” Tachina from Shin’s platoon cursed.
Raiden was inclined to agree. “He’s never going to learn, is he, the dumbass…?!”
He could relate to how Shin felt, but why wouldn’t he show some restraint? While he flaunted his strength by going one-on-one, Raiden was the one who had to take over command and offer him support. He held back the urge to click his tongue. If they were out of their units, he’d kick Shin in the ass right about now.
But then suddenly, one extra Para-RAID target joined the Resonance.
✦ ✦ ✦
A creeping, black evil dragon, and a white flash judging from the heavens. It was like a scene out of myth. A warrior god or a hero slaying a dragon.
And it was for this reason that the routed soldiers looked upon this sight with eyes of anger and profound suspicion.
“If you can do that…”
If you’re really heroes, if you’re that strong, why won’t you…why won’t you people…?