[473] The Birth of Humanity (3)
Plu couldn't move easily; her left upper arm bone was broken.
If the Dawkins Algorithm had kicked in here, that broken arm would have flailed on its own, and the pain would have translated directly into lost fighting power.
Not everyone could steel themselves like Gaold.
"Ugh!"
Every time Raun stepped closer, Plu had to back away—her pride was badly bruised.
Worse still was the dull, lustful gleam in his eyes. It made her feel even more disgusted.
"Heh heh, just as I thought."
Raun clenched both fists.
Ting! Ting!
Electricity sparked again near Piper's spine and gathered into his hands.
No matter what trick she tried, she couldn't avoid two electric shockwaves.
"You've never bowed to anyone, have you? You'd rather break than be defeated. You trained yourself over and over, hardened your spirit with that resolve."
Plu glared at Raun without answering.
With the Dawkins Algorithm sealed, watching his every move was the only option.
"That pride is what made you who you are. But do you know? There are beings on a completely different level. I gained immortality, and I'll live like this forever."
The mechanical voice from Piper's translator grated on Plu's nerves.
She felt like she could do anything if she could just crush his jaw.
"What are you getting at?"
"The point is, I like women like that."
Raun spread his clenched fists apart.
"I'll give you a choice. Be my woman. Don't worry about me abandoning you. I'll cherish you until you grow old and die. Of course, in my own way."
Raun advanced with a rough, unrestrained gait. Plu clutched her injured arm and stepped back.
But her eyes had cooled, unlike before.
Those who gained immortality had no room for regret or remorse.
They could always start over; eternal time was there to make up for any mistake.
"Now I understand."
Plu lifted her upper lip and bared a fang.
"You're not someone who truly lives, even with immortality."
"Hmph. The jealousy of mortals—"
"You're already dead."
Raun fell silent and lowered his eyelids.
"You're already a dead man. You're missing what humans need most."
"Missing? Me? What could I possibly be lacking?"
"A heart."
Plu swung Phoenix with her right arm and took a fighting stance.
"You have no heart. You have nothing to throw away, so nothing matters. You're like a block of wood—only a little thrill runs through that body."
Crackle!
Electricity bloomed from Raun's fists.
He finally realized that a mortal's madness must not be indulged.
"I'll kill you. I'll teach you what real death is."
As he finished speaking, Raun lunged forward.
'Dawkins Algorithm.'
Plu pushed through the pain and opened a Spirit Zone again.
Raun's attacks were far more brutal and relentless than before, but Plu's movements had lost hesitation.
Even if her broken arm swung at random, even if her spine snapped—she didn't care.
What mattered to her was not some future life but this moment.
That was why she could risk everything.
Raun's machine-synced strikes were still exquisite, but Plu charged with her life on the line.
As time passed, Raun's face hardened.
No matter how he attacked, Plu's momentum swelled until her very life teetered on the edge.
The height of resolve—the moment it passed the threshold, Raun finally understood.
He might die.
"Th-this... this...!"
A feeling he would never admit lodged in Raun's chest.
Fear. And the sense of defeat.
Neither was something he could bear.
"Aaaaaaah!"
He expelled all the electricity gathered in his fists into the ground; a powerful current spread in every direction.
Plu flung herself as if it didn't matter, and the heat-sensitive fabric of her clothes seared away, exposing bare skin.
'Ah, really...! Again?'
Plu gritted her teeth.
Her skin reddened from first-degree burns, but worse was the current that shook her muscles.
'Graaah!'
Even when her body wouldn't obey, she cast magic with sheer will and closed in on Raun, finally swinging Phoenix.
'Phoenix Strike!'
Kioooooo!
When the molten-lava flame shot out, Raun raised both arms in terror.
His mind went pale; he didn't even know how to react.
More terrifying than pain was the thought of death.
He had lived a thousand years and believed he had countless lives ahead—yet the horror that his life might end now was more dreadful than anything.
"No, noooooooo!"
Raun screamed.
The cry he made was the most miserable death-rattle a human could produce.
Plu looked at him calmly, without an ounce of pity.
He burned.
Flesh charred; only the metallic Piper frame remained.
In the end it would change into other matter and be absorbed by other life.
That was what life was.
Crack. Thud.
Plu turned away from Raun's blackened corpse.
But the wounds Raun had dealt her were severe, and when she stepped out of the building with exposed skin, she collapsed to the ground.
"Hah..."
Immortals were strong, but they had corresponding weaknesses. Shirone would have seen that weakness clearly.
'I can't help it. I have to wait for someone to come help.'
Plu looked down at her burned thigh and stuck out her lower lip.
It was battle damage—unavoidable—but as a senior it stung her pride.
* * *
"Eek!"
Deina shrank back in terror, repeatedly retreating.
She could clearly see the blade of a tentacle aiming for the back of her neck; with each glimpse her heart contracted.
She was going to die.
Her life, which once promised an eternal future, would end here in futility.
Shirone no longer flinched.
No matter how masterful at manifestation they were, those who had been cast into immortality had infinitely more to lose when it came to death.
That was why he could charge.
Murka and Deina could only fall back as the Photon Cannons spread out in all directions.
The fear of death crushed them, and a scream tore from Murka's mouth—he had once been Kerg's greatest warrior.
"Aaaaaaa!"
Shirone pressed the advantage and activated Akamai.
When Antithesis took hold, Murka couldn't even twitch a finger.
The image of him once overcoming a fallen angel's binding with divine transcendence was gone.
A manifestation is the whole of a person; a broken spirit cannot free itself from Antithesis's restraint.
"S-s-save me! Please!"
Murka shouted at empty air without being able to turn his head.
His terrified eyes melted like soft liquid; pupils and irises blurred and lost focus.
Shirone didn't hesitate. He leapt in and slashed with a tentacle; the sharp metal blade passed through Murka's neck.
"Save me...!"
Thud. Thud thud thud.
The head rolled, tumbled across the floor, and stopped at Deina's feet.
"Eek!"
She had seen death.
Deina lost the will to fight and sank down.
Meanwhile, Armand fed on Murka's body and restored Shirone's stamina.
He was being completely consumed.
The simple, natural fact for living beings—eat and be eaten—struck Deina's mind like an unbearable truth.
Long ago, she had stood in that spiral of life where one eats and is eaten.
Only this time, she was the one being consumed, not the predator.
"Please—spare me..."
As Shirone approached, Deina begged in a trembling voice.
When she saw his cold eyes she dropped to her knees and clasped her hands, pleading.
"Please, spare my life. I'll do anything you tell me. If you tell me to crawl on the floor, I'll crawl. If you tell me to go between your legs, I'll go."
Shirone's expression didn't change.
Only his four tentacles rose high into the air, mirroring his emotion.
How many mortals had he killed for sport since he became immortal?
That was the anger fueling him. He had no intention of stopping.
"I don't want to die. Please spare me. I'll beg like this."
Deina, who'd lived a thousand years, rubbed her palms together and wept like a newborn child.
Death strikes any creature with the same shock, but having been cut out from the chain of life, her desire to live was overwhelming.
Shirone's tentacles shot up and hooked like claws over Deina.
"Kyahhh!"
A ripping scream, and the tentacle blades drove into the floor on either side of her.
"You know how precious your life is..."
Shirone ground his teeth. "So why treat other people's lives so cheaply?"
"Wah, wahhh..."
Deina had lost her mind.
Her will, completely shattered, affected her manifestation.
Unlike Shirone, who had overcome death, her manifestation had been built slowly through immortality—a fragile, glass-like ego.
"I was wrong. Please spare me, master. I'll follow you for the rest of my life."
As her manifestation shattered, her self-respect collapsed.
She had sunk to the most abject depth a human could reach.
Shirone finally withdrew his tentacles and said, "Get up."
He did not apply subjective standards to saving or killing.
But he also didn't believe there were no objective criteria.
Human life, from the start, could not be neatly measured.
So Shirone spared Deina for a rational reason: she was still useful.
"Get up. We have to find your senior."
"Yes. I'll find them, master. Leave it to me."
Shirone led Deina out of the building.
The immortals they had faced this time were qualitatively different from other hunting parties, and from the scale of the destruction they could tell where Plu had been fighting.
"Senior!"
Shirone ran toward Plu leaning against the wall.
Her bare skin was mottled with red burn blooms.
But more serious was the broken arm.
"Are you all right? How did this happen?"
Shirone glanced at Raun's corpse inside the building.
He had been an immortal, likely no different from the ones Shirone had faced. Even with Armand in his full armor at first, he had struggled—so it could only have been Plu's endurance and resolve that defeated him.
Plu, unwilling to show weakness, pushed herself up.
"This won't kill me. By the way, who is that woman?"
Shirone looked back at Deina. "Can she heal your wound?"
Deina shook her head with a tearful face.
"There are no healing spells. I'm sorry, master."
"Master?"
One corner of Plu's mouth twitched.
It would take a long explanation, so Shirone cut to the chase.
"For now, you should get some clothes."
A long sigh escaped Plu.
"M-m-master!"
At that moment Deina turned and shouted.
At the same time, an unknown force pressed down on the three of them.
"Ugh! This is..."
It wasn't Nor's power.
They looked forward in bewilderment, and beyond the wall a group of fairies appeared.
Among the seventy-two ranks of fairies, Mirka—a venerated second-rank fairy—looked down at them with an arrogant expression.
From her elaborate makeup and enormous wings it was clear she held a high station, but that wasn't what mattered to Shirone now.
Peope, following beside Mirka, bowed his head with a sad expression.