Ex Machina Amputation. Everyone present was now looking at the very image of the god Ex Machina Amputation, an ancient relic that had been preserved inside the temple at the top of the Acropolis. Its waist was an exposed cross section, and its chest had been constructed in meticulous detail, giving it a sense of vitality. Next to emerge was its muscular right arm, then the left arm, which was connected to a construction crane. Finally, the severe expression of an old man’s face appeared before the eyes of the crowd.
The god’s descent stopped. The many chains connected to the giant teleportation gate that held the god in its upright posture were pulled taut, as they suspended the god in midair. The spherical mass, connected to the exposed midsection of the god’s hip by dangling tubes, was a power engine the Reincarnators had attached there. Its tubing pulsed ominously, almost like live entrails.
The god’s face, elaborately constructed by the historical craftsmen of Vulcan, twitched almost imperceptibly. Then it lifted one of its eyelids, halfway revealing an eye carved from a single slab of marble. On the ground, people were awestruck.
“Now then, ladies and gentlemen.” Assured of his own victory, Shiden stood atop the right shoulder of the blacksmith god. “I suggest that you surrender.”
In the same fashion as many Vulcans around him, Dill rested both knees on the ground and bowed his head low.
“Master?! What are you doing? You have to stand and fight...”
“No. I’m fine as I am.” Tears sparkled in Dill’s eyes. To demonstrate his lack of hostility, he held both hands up with his palms facing the sky. “The Ex Machina are our gods.”
Shiden watched the circle of prayer widen with cruel satisfaction. “Ohh? Amazing! Looks like religion matters most to these savage folk after all! We ought to have just done this in the first place. Now then, to make you truly understand the pecking order here, perhaps I’ll have your holy god perform a silly dance or something...wait, what?”
The god quaked beneath Shiden’s feet, shaking him off. Strongest though he may have been among the Reincarnators, he was thrown helplessly against the ground. To make matters worse for Shiden, the arm with the crane came crashing down upon him. With a massive crushing sound, the orange bolts of lightning Shiden had left behind to guard his body were scattered to the winds!
“You’re attacking me?! Why?!” Shiden reconstituted his body, then stood stunned.
“Of course he would attack you.” A deep, expansive, resonant voice rang out. This was a voice Shiden had long since grown tired of hearing—the actor, Dill Steel-Link. At some point Dill had stood up and begun walking toward Shiden. “This world’s name is Redguard. In this land, people and gods live together. No matter how many equations you drag out from your pale heads in your efforts to replace mythology with science, it’s no use. The gods do exist. Miracles happen. Destiny is unshakeable. The proof of all this is in everything you see before you—in this very moment.”
Shiden was overwhelmed. He was swallowed up by the force of Dill’s conviction and the unusual atmosphere that had begun to sweep the plaza. Shiden stood stunned for a spell, and then his composed expression went limp. “You’re too barbaric—there’s no convincing you. I suppose, in the end, we’ll have to go for Plan A to deal with you morons—overwhelming force!”
Dill and Sid—Aegisthus and Orestes—both assumed their battle stances.
“My name is Aegisthus!”
“And I am his son, Orestes!”
“Like I keep saying, I’m not going to announce my name! Although I will say that I am the strongest Reincarnator!”
Like a god sitting in heaven, delighting in his power over lightning, Shiden crashed against the battalion of mail-cloaks commanded by the two heroes. Amputation, god of the forge, watched over them. He was the genuine article, the protector god who presided over the castle city.
The man who was cast aside as this new legend unfolded could only look up in disbelief. The scene before him was blurred by the tears in his eyes. As he wiped the tears away to see more clearly, his eyes were only flooded again with a fresh round welling up. The acknowledgment of his own defeat lodged tightly in Yuujin’s chest. He had fought twice and had now lost twice. Despite fighting under even more favorable circumstances the second time, still he found himself defeated.
I will never be a hero. Crossing between worlds, enduring hypnotic surgery and its severe aftereffects, finally I landed here, on Redguard. But the scant scraps of truth we seized at the end of this lengthy war didn’t belong to me. I accept that now. I said that I sought a hero. That was a lie. In truth, I wanted to become one myself. I sought the kind of hero who could guide people and save a civilization—a strong, kind, fair, and capable hero. But I couldn’t do it. The legendary battle unfolding in the plaza is not far removed in terms of distance, but I can now only think of it as an event happening beyond the heavens. I am no longer worthy to take part in what happens there.
To a Reincarnator, who does not possess a body, acknowledging one’s own defeat was in some sense tantamount to death. Even if his mind were transferred to another body, Yuujin had calmly accepted that he would probably not be of any further use.
“Yuujin-san, that was a good effort. How are you feeling?” The voice was nonchalant and without emotion, as if reading from a script. Although his body and voice had changed, Yuujin could still tell who the speaker was. It was the Manager who served as Yuujin’s chief physician, Puppeteer. His spine was now elegantly straightened.
“...Doctor. I’m sorry about what happened earlier. I was on a bit of a high, I’m embarrassed to say.”
“Think nothing of it. You’ve calmed down now, haven’t you?”
“So have you, Doctor.” Yuujin smiled.
Accompanied by the footsteps of several others, Puppeteer came to stand in front of Yuujin. The Reincarnators guarding him dispersed, preventing the Vulcan civilians who had been watching the proceedings from getting any closer.
“Hey, Doctor, I have something to tell you...I think it’s time I quit the Project. I don’t mind if you send me back to military service. To succeed me as Manager...”
“285 days.”
“Huh?”
“It’s a new record for you.”
Yuujin didn’t understand the meaning of Puppeteer’s words. The doctor walked right up to Yuujin and scrutinized the damage to his body. “This body is truly magnificent. It drew out more of your power than any you’ve worn previously. What’s more, it’s still usable. Astonishing, really.”
“About that, Doctor...unfortunately, I’ve already decided...”
“Yes, yes. As I was saying, I heard you say the same thing 285 days ago.”
285. A new record. Yuujin finally understood what Puppeteer was talking about. What version of me...am I?
In that moment, Yuujin activated his Skill, sweeping the air in front of him with flames from his hands. The Reincarnator bodyguards were all immolated—he had attacked so swiftly they had no chance to react! However...
“Nice try, but I’ve already touched you.” The illusion dissipated. Standing behind Yuujin, Puppeteer had his hand on Yuujin’s head. “Now then...I’m going to reset you. Welcome to the Project. I’m pleased to have another chance to work with you.”
Yuujin let out a scream of terror. “No! No, please stop! I can’t do it! It’s impossible! Stop...stop!!!”
At that moment, something happened that was entirely beyond Puppeteer’s expectations. Yuujin resisted and retaliated in a way he hadn’t during the five resets that had been performed on him up until now. With direct contact, Puppeteer’s telepathy should have been too powerful to give Yuujin any leeway to resist. This irregularity was most likely caused by something to do with the body of the ancient hero.
Yuujin seized Puppeteer by the head and activated the same Skill that had just been used on him. He interposed his own will within Puppeteer’s personality, overwriting it—trampling upon it. This was the Skill of brainwashing, and Yuujin thrust the appendage of his newly copied Skill into Puppeteer’s brain and set about scrambling it. He peeled away the sturdy layers of protection the Skill’s original practitioner had installed there and began to rewrite Puppeteer’s mind. Puppeteer increased the output of his own Skill in an attempt to resist Yuujin and with extreme force, the likes of which he had never employed before, he began to assault Yuujin’s mind in retaliation.
Then an accident occurred. Yuujin’s fragile, unstable mind shattered almost audibly. The seat of his influence, which had kept the body under control, was suddenly left empty. The ancient spirit within his body did not overlook this opportunity.
“The time has come.” With a popping sound, Puppeteer’s head was crushed within a mighty fist. The newly awakened man looked up at the sky, then down at his feet. A spear was stuck in his belly, left there after Dill had pierced it.
The man pulled out the spear and cast it aside. Blood gushed from the wound. The blood was colored blue—the blue of nanomachines—but as if being eroded away, the blue was gradually replaced by red. The blood that spilled at the man’s feet began to boil, sending up steam—this blood was searing hot. The red-hot blood cauterized the man’s wound as it poured out, and finally the bleeding stopped.
The man took a deep breath. For the first time in five hundred years, he smelled the air of Redguard.
“It is time for my revenge.”