I was welcomed back with jubilation.
“As expected of a hero! A wonderful sight to behold!”
“To think you could fight off so many alone!”
“You fight with the strength of many men.”
The knights surrounded me and showered me with praise. By the look on his face, I’d exceeded even Rigel’s expectations.
“I was watching. I didn’t think you were that powerful! I see why God chose you!”
“No need to make such a fuss. I only took out one of them.”
“Humility turns to cynicism at its extremes. Only a handful of the Knights Templar could use magic without any blessed equipment. Even with the equipment, I know of none who could withstand so many bullets with a shield. Additionally, it’s unprecedented to see a spear of light thrown like that. They normally disappear the moment they’ve been cut off from their power source.”
I see. As usual, my mana level is apparently far greater than what is normal here.
“I’m sure the Black Dog fled the moment he realized your strength. It was, admittedly, a modest victory. But you have allowed us to regain our hope.”
I could understand why they’d celebrate a small victory after such an enormous loss, but I didn’t have the slightest feeling that I’d won anything at all. On even the most generous interpretation, it was a draw.
“By the way, who’s the Black Dog?” I asked.
“Ah, you haven’t heard about him yet. He was the orc riding the black beak-dog.”
The one-eyed one, then. And the beasts are called beak-dogs.
Rigel went on. “He is the craftiest and most resourceful of the orcish generals. He and his riders have plagued us for the past seven or eight years. He appears without warning, taking out smaller units. Many brave and virtuous knights have fallen to him.”
A war hero of the orcs. A champion. No wonder he was so formidable. Wait, don’t tell me…
“Let me guess. The orcs began using guns around the same time he appeared.”
“No, the guns themselves have been around for a while now. But there weren’t so many of them when I was a lad, and they could not break through magic. They were only useful for making loud noises to spook the horses. But, as you can see, they are now quite a threat.”
My heart sank. That was even worse. The orcs had not been handed guns by some cheat-like entity. They had discovered and developed them themselves.
In all the worlds I’d saved thus far, humanity had been winning on its own merit. The world’s predicament was triggered by a particular entity—a demon lord with fearsome powers, the sudden mutation of a monster, an ancient weapon with enough power to end all life as we knew it—that sort of thing. As long as I could do something about that one problem, I could save the world. That was my job.
But it looked like this world ran on different rules. Without relying on any special powers, the enemy was overwhelming humanity, solely with their own might. And it wasn’t just numbers—they had the technological advantage as well.
There was a good chance we were losing to them as a civilization. I mean, they had managed to gather so many guns and soldiers on a single battlefield. This had gone beyond the point where I could do anything simply by being peerless. What’s more, considering the fight I put up today, I highly doubted I could even call myself peerless.
In that case, why not use my knowledge to improve the human’s weaponry in this world? Rejected. I’d tried that before, and the result had been a mess. Sure, a matchlock looks simple, but it is the culmination of the art of metallurgy and requires the understanding of many other technologies. Just knowing the basic structure didn’t get me anywhere. It was fundamentally pointless unless the world had already developed the necessary basic skills. And bringing those fundamental techniques to another world would be even more difficult.
Remember, in the real world, I was little more than a useless bum who’d barely graduated junior high. I was never going to forget how a gun based on my vague recollections blew off the arm of a young blacksmith apprentice when he tried to test fire.
Ultimately, all I could do was use the powers given to me by some unknown being to swing a sword around. In most cases, it was far quicker to take the enemy’s head than it was to reform political affairs. That had been enough to save every world so far. In fact, I’d saved twelve worlds that way. There was only one thing I was capable of: fight, fight, and fight to the death. Yes, to the death. I was confident I wouldn’t lose to anyone.
I suddenly felt the proud and expectant presence of that unknown entity behind me. It seemed to say, “Don’t worry. You can do it.”
How irresponsible. Goddammit, don’t egg me on.
A question crossed my mind. What happens if I die in another world? Strangely, this was rarely more than a passing thought. I always had the vague impression that I couldn’t die. It would be all right. I was the hero, after all. It was scary, but in the same way that riding a roller coaster was scary.
So why was this world suddenly filling me with existential dread?
Oh well, thinking about it wasn’t going to get me anywhere. I had no idea what would happen after I croaked in my own world either. It was no different here.
✦ ✦ ✦
After the skirmish, in the forest near Dragonjaw Gate, the orc whom the hairless monkeys called the Black Dog staggered as he dismounted his aquilup. Even with the help of his subordinates, he could barely stay upright. He had lost more blood than he had expected, and he grimaced at the dull pain that raced down his flank.
A perfect semicircle had been gouged out of his side, armor and all. It was pure luck that the attack had missed his organs. Had he not coincidentally turned to check on a subordinate toppling from his mount, that spear of light would have pierced straight through his heart. He had to admit that he had let his guard down. The major clash had dealt a vital blow to the enemy. He had been convinced they would no longer have any will to fight.
Something had definitely felt a little off. He should have noticed it sooner. How had they managed to retreat so quickly after such a massive loss? When that hairless monkey rushed to the front alone, he had simply appeared to be someone with a death wish. But what was the truth of the matter? Neither the Black Dog nor his men had ever come across a monkey who fought like that.
They had encountered men who wielded those glowing spears and shields before—they had taken down a number of them in just the last battle. But the one in white armor was so strong, there was no comparison. The monkey had repelled their volley. He threw the spear. He could switch between weapons in an instant. What else could he be but a monster?
However, a number of his men reported seeing the monkey’s shield break from the last barrage. Perhaps they would have been able to take him out if the battle had continued. The Black Dog shook the thought out of his head.
Witnessing that battle had revived the enemy cavalry’s fighting spirit. They were reconstructing their formation. If there was another clash, both sides would face significant casualties. While it might provide a chance for them to kill the powerful monkey, it was not worth sacrificing the lives of his comrades.
Aquilup riders were valuable, as aquilups only bonded with the first creature they saw after hatching from their eggs. What’s more, they only produced eggs in the wild. The art of taking those rare eggs from the nest and then incubating, hatching, and raising them was a secret passed down only to the warriors of his tribe.
But more than that, he loved his subordinates.
Perhaps he would have made a different decision if he were uninjured. However, when he was badly wounded, unable to give level-headed orders, he couldn’t possibly subject his men to an unknown threat. Or perhaps things would have been different if he had taken a battery of foot soldiers with him.
We’d have the foot soldiers if that margrave’s no-good son hadn’t opened his mouth. He cursed. But it was too late to do anything about the matter.
Before long, a recon party returned with the orc who had died in battle. The Black Dog recognized him as his sister’s husband. He was a splendid young man, the best or second-best rider in the village. The couple got along well; they had been blessed with their first child right before he embarked on this campaign. His heart sank even further as he considered the letter he would need to write home.
The Black Dog made his resolution. He would settle this score if it was the last thing he did. No matter how preposterous that man was, he couldn’t be immortal. Surely he could be taken out with proper preparations. More importantly, I can tell that monkey will be the biggest obstacle—no, a stepping stone—to my ambitions.
Whatever the case, he would kill that man in the next bout. Such ambitions were the reason he led his comrades into battle, were they not?