I wait, mind empty and ears open,
Such that I can hear His voice,
And offer my body unto Him.
✦ ✦ ✦
I want to be a ninja. Give me the ninja technique to vanish during meetings.
Anyway! PotatoStarch here! I’m excited for today’s stream of DDR DX. Last time we were going at the serf life wholeheartedly, but this time we’ll finally be getting to the battles. Gather up, everyone! Allow me to share with you every detail of this game’s unfairness. Be sure to tell everyone how epic this was. Oh, and if you can’t handle gore, I suggest you leave now. This is going to turn into a horrorshow.
Whoo, I’m excited! My stats are as prepared as humanly possible after that series of perfectly-executed mini-games. It’s all down to player skill now. Come on, my dear slave Kuroi, it’s life or death! And for this occasion, I’ve got my specially prepared VR headset... Which I’ll just toss to the side! Not using that. Veteran DDR players only use keyboard and mouse.
Snacks, drinks, manga, and light novels cover my desk, obviously. My monitor’s chroma and brightness levels are by default set to low so they’re gentler on the eyes. I’m totally ready for a marathon play session. Also, every in-game sound is muted, except for environment noises, which I have set to very loud. Considering what we’re going up against, this is all very important.
You see, this game’s pursuit of realism is inherently flawed. A war event takes upwards of half a day. Depending on the war situation, taking whole days can be an incredibly common occurrence. I’ve even heard tales of some events taking up to a week, half of which was just spent marching through mountains. That, like, belongs in a different game—or a different form of entertainment entirely. It’s basically just a travel simulator at that point. And of course, saving after logging out during the event is disabled. There was never a pause button, but now even force-closing the game causes your save data to be automatically wiped as the game plays that infamous chime.
But it’s DDR. That’s just how it is. The devs are clearly out for blood... the blood of our social lives, that is. In the commercials a famous voice actress idol proclaims with her perfect smile, “On this super realistic battlefield, even a moment’s hesitation can be your downfall!” But the tryhard levels since the beta make me think there was some darkness behind that smile. Some serious anger there.
But I’m a grizzled veteran. I have no openings! After all, tomorrow’s the start of a three-day weekend. Everything’s loaded, so it’s time for battle! Oh, shoot. Where’s my hand sweat towel? And, uh, my plastic bottle?
✦ ✦ ✦
The attack was sudden. I ran and hid, but there’s nothing I can do now. What a pathetic end. Fitting for an excommunicated sorcerer, one might say.
The army of monsters that appeared—creatures that normally live deep in the forest like goblins, sherboa, mad apes, militant rabbits, poisonous rats—came bursting forth from the trees. Damn it all! The garrison is pathetic, too. In the end, they are simply cast-offs from the capital. Those bastards rush us. It is a bloodbath.
These beasts aren’t here to feed. It must be the work of magic. Maybe the yellow-eyes cast Fear, or the long-ears cast Madness. Either way, this is bad news. They kill everyone in their path. They even kill their fellow monsters. No mercy for their fellow species. Frightening stuff.
Death. Death. Death is everywhere. Everyone is dying. No buildings will be left after this. Even this grain storehouse, which was made specifically to house our tariffs, will be rubble by tomorrow.
“Hic... Hic...”
“Why is this happening?”
“Mommy, Daddy...”
“Don’t—Don’t cry! You have to be quiet...” There are a lot of women among the people in here. Oh God. This is going to be a tragic end. Might as well get closer to the armored door. That way, I’ll die faster. I won’t have to hear the children scream. And perhaps my body will stall the attackers long enough to save a life. Or, at least, extend their lives by a little.
Some footsteps bring me out of my thoughts. The footsteps of death.
“Yeek!”
“Mmph!” Come on. They’re still so young. See how they pitifully try to hold their breath, bravely stifle their screams, and cling to themselves and those around them desperately. Some try to keep their eyes open, while others shut them tightly, tears streaming down their cheeks. Their faces are stiff, their teeth grit.
From the other side of the wall comes low breathing. And then, oh dear, the sound of something slicing into the armored door.
“Ahhh! They’re eating away at the door!”
“Ahhhhhh! Noooooooo!”
“G-Get something to make a barrier—Guh?!” The door bursts open and a middle-aged man crumples to the ground. At the entrance, rays of afternoon sun haloing its back, stands a sherboa, a boar monster. Its pig snout snorts rapidly. It must have trampled on a poisonous rat, for under its hooves is a giant purple creature, bubbles of blood spewing from its corpse. A miasma of entrails and shit fills the air and makes my eyes burn.
Everyone is paralyzed as the cursed monster eyes us—appraises us. Drool drips from its lips. Damn it. I can sense its maddening bloodlust zeroing in on the women. You dare to gorge yourself on women in front of me, Odysson?
“Not on my watch, you piece of shit.” I bring forth flames—magical flames. Without any tools it is just a spark, really, but as long as it scares the creature off, what does it matter?
“Even death has an order to it. Use your damn brains.” I stand and block the way. Though imperfect, I’m a thirty-year-old adult man. I have to do at least this much. You might mock me and say it’s nothing, but still, I hold my ground. I want to run and cry so badly, but still, I stand my ground. God has long abandoned us, but the least I can do is give the kids some faith in an old man, God damn it!
“Bring it, you beast freak... Yeep!” Blood spatters—the sherboa’s blood. Squeals of anger and pain—these, too, are the sherboa’s.
What? What’s going on?
Before my eyes stands a raven-haired girl. In her hands there is a giant, three-pronged hoe. Burlap sacks are bound to her stomach and back, and the sherboa is under her feet. To be precise, she is stabbing it with her hoe. The sharp bits are biting into the ground.
Did she drop from a ceiling beam or something? Perhaps she had been lying in wait here, long before we barricaded ourselves inside the storehouse. And then, spotting the perfect chance, she dropped in for the kill. The heavy bags strapped to her must have been to increase her damage upon impact. A very prepared strike.
A loud cracking sound resonates. Using her entire body, the girl pulls the hoe down and breaks the sherboa’s neck. The handle breaks from the momentum and the girl pitches forward onto the ground, staining her clothes and face a muddy red. She quickly jumps up and looks at the beast. Her gaze is cool. I can sense no excitement in her.
The stillness is filled with death. The girl is the only one who can move. She looks around and picks up a big rock. Then she approaches the sherboa’s corpse, adjusts the angle of its jaw, and pounds the rock against it. Over and over, she hammers at it. She throws a few kicks, as well. Finally, she grabs it and twists, ripping the great tusk free.
✦ ✦ ✦
Sherboa’s giant tusk acquired! Whew, that worked out pretty well. It was worth staking out that door and waiting for it to open. My eyes were busy reading manga. This is a good sign, though. Usually when you lock yourself in the storehouse, it’s a poisonous rat or goblin that comes knocking. It’s really rare for a sherboa to show up instead. Although it’s more like a sherboa to come bursting through the wall.
And my reward for this battle is its giant tusk. As a first-strike bonus, it comes with a special effect! Yay! I can carry it with me and it’ll increase my strength with its strange power. Depending on the route, there are even some really useful applications for it later on. Honestly, it might even give me magic. That was a really rare random event! Nice! Now, time to get to work.
This is the part where I remember that DDR is an action RPG and there’s a time limit. I’m pretty sure I’m right about this. How do I know, you ask? Well, this hypocritical battle is a famous part of the Frontier.
So, which “hero” will show up first this time?