Chapter Four: The Two Leaders (1|2)

Chapter Four: The Two Leaders

High Pilot Hugo Lesseps.

The clan I was part of was a gathering of players that mostly focused on crafting.

Engineers, Mechanics, Pharmacists, Smiths... This world had many such jobs that produced all sorts of things, but when the work of tians and players was compared, most of the time, players were the ones that came out on top.

Just like with battle jobs, this was due to the abilities and bonuses to stat growth given to them by their Embryos. The quality of the item and the production success rate were dependent on skill level and DEX — not any real-life ability. Due to that, even a player who was a novice at the craft could produce work showing true mastery.

As my clan leader often said: "Unlike battle — which now involves moving your body — production in this game isn't too different from how it was when MMORPGs weren't VR. That's why even the slowest klutz can do it."

That wasn't all, though.

"Mind you, that only applies when they're making something that has already been made," he liked to continue. "To create something new, you need the power to imagine it. When making something without the instructions, the necessary materials and inventiveness are on a completely different level."

Infinite Dendrogram's crafting came in two types — the production of known items and the creation of new items.

Both methods required the person to have sufficient materials,

skills, and stats.

However, while known items could easily be made by following the instructions displayed on Recipes, the creation of new items required the creation of those very instructions.

Naturally, they weren't easy to make, since they required a deeper understanding of the processes involved, detailed knowledge of this world's science and magic, and a proper grasp of the necessary materials.

Simply put, creating new items was far too taxing. Thus, even after half a year had passed since the game's release, Masters had still been making only known or slightly customized items.

That had changed with our clan.

Our clan leader had made a breakthrough in the game's crafting department. In hindsight, it had been pretty simple, for he'd merely begun gathering people who were skilled and knowledgeable in reality.

The Dryfe Imperium was a country that had machine technology. Though there were many differences — such as the fuel of the machines being magic — the Imperium's technology had similarities to what we had in reality. The clan leader had made good use of that fact.

He'd gathered various people who had knowledge about machines, which included graduate school students that had majored in mechanical engineering, skilled workers from automobile factories, designers of heavy machinery, and even those who were simply nutty about cars, trains, or weapons. And it was all for the goal of creating a new item.

Of course, people hadn't gone to him just because he was recruiting. The clan leader had begun to receive a significant amount of applications when he'd revealed a specific project of his.

Its goal was to create a humanoid battle robot.

Back then, Dryfe hadn't had any humanoid mobile weapon-type Magingears. When the game had begun, the only Magingears Dryfe had had in their arsenal were the powered suits nicknamed "Marshall" and the tanks known as "Geist." While bipedal, human-like robots weren't even being invented. Thus, the clan leader had made it his goal to create them.

Many people had been intrigued by the idea, so by the time the clan had been created, it'd already had dozens of knowledgeable and skilled people. They'd all quickly begun cooperating and working towards the common goal.

"All you need is knowledge, equipment, manpower, materials, money, imagination, skill level, luck, and guinea pigs!" the leader had announced when he'd kickstarted the project.

Clearly, it had been a demanding task. However, they'd been able to prepare everything they needed.

They'd mixed and matched their knowledges of machinery, compared and adjusted their magic technology, and performed lots of trial and error while trying to make it all click. There had been countless failures, great costs, and members leaving one after the other. However, they'd continued despite the many problems.

One of the senior members had compared the whole thing to something called "Project X," and there had been many who'd nodded to his words. I had been uninformed and knew nothing about that show, but it seemed to click with those from his generation — especially the Japanese people.

And so, after two months in real life — half a year in Infinite Dendrogram — all the trouble has finally paid off as they completed a new item.

The name given to it was "Marshall II." It was a mass-producible weapon with the power equivalent of a Demi-Dragon. The humanoid

battle robot Magingear was a straight upgrade to a Marshall — the powered suit.

Once the Marshall II was complete and the Recipe became public, our clan quickly began growing into the largest one in Dryfe Imperium.

◇◇◇

The battle before the fortress was nearing its end.

"Hugo, five o'clock, one Gunner," said Cyco.

"Oui."

As Cyco scouted the fog and gave me directions, I acted accordingly by turning my frame and firing from the Hand Canon on my left hand.

The Gunner that was aiming at me with a magic gun failed to evade my attack, and the explosive shot from my MRW03 Hand Canon made him burst into little pieces, leaving only the arm that was gripping the weapon.

That gun is one of the Imperium's older models, I thought. Looks like our technology is leaking through that country's black market again.

"Six o'clock, two Fighters," said Cyco.

"Got it."

I made my upper half turn around and used the centrifugal force to cut them down with my SRW02 Battle Knife.

The first one was unable to react as it broke through his armor, flesh, bone, flesh, armor — in that order — and split him at his torso. The second one reacted and stopped my Battle Knife with his greatshield.

Unlike in reality, Infinite Dendrogram's Fighters of this vein were tough. Though a Marshall II had power that made most heavy machinery pale in comparison, many Fighters could — evidently — block mine's attacks and even harm it.

This one had both reaction speed and power.

However...

"Y our legs are wide open," I said.

Making sure he didn't move by forcing him to struggle against the force of my Battle Knife, I used the Marshall II's legs to step on his. The robot's overall weight — which reached a whole ten tons — was far too great for his plated boots to handle, and his legs were crushed.

"HHHH?!"

The moment he released a voiceless scream and lowered the power on his shield arm, I used my blade — now free to move — to split his head in half.

"No enemies nearby," said Cyco.

"Got it," I replied. "Continue keeping an eye out. And dedicate extra attention to the direction of the fortress."

"Oui."

Apparently, I'd handled everything they've sent at me so far. The realization that I'd prevailed made me heave a deep sigh.

My Marshall II was standing in the middle of the battlefield, surrounded by countless bandit corpses. I silently looked around. The one responsible for this horrible scene was me.

I was fully aware that there were things to be said about me killing so many people, but my actions didn't make my heart hurt, nor did I regret them.

I'd known about the existence of the Gouz-Maise Gang before Rebecca had told me about them. In fact, I'd been aware of them before I'd even come to Gideon. During the research we'd done for the plan, I'd noticed them among the factions surrounding the city and engraved them onto my mind.

They had killed far too many children and far too many noble souls trying to save them. It was only natural for people who took the lives of other humans to — in turn — be killed by them, as well. I thoroughly believed that to be true.

Though, considering that I was an immortal Master, that belief might be insolent and contradictory.

"All right, now..." I muttered.

Though the result of the battle made it seem like my victory had been flawless, that was far from the truth. My own HP hadn't dropped a single percent, but the damage to my Marshall II was severe. Due to the attacks it had sustained, about a third of its armor had come off, which had exposed the inner frame to considerable amounts of damage. The movement of its left arm had become quite slow, as well.

Special equipment like cars, ships, and Magingear didn't have any HP displays, but if they did, my Marshall II's gauge would be at about 30% of the total. That was a testament to just how difficult the battle had been.

Though a Marshall II was a humanoid robot straight out of science fiction, my opponents were all true inhabitants of this fantasy world. The axes they'd swung could break steel, and the arrows they'd fired had easily pierced through the robot's armor. If my fellow clan members hadn't increased the Marshall II's stats by fine tuning it for better use by the clan's Masters, and if I hadn't given it the bonuses from a High Pilot riding it, I would've been overwhelmed by their numbers and lost.

I sighed yet again, reached into my inventory and took out an MP

Recovery Potion.

Moving and fighting in the Magingear came at a cost to my MP. During the battle, it had dropped to a mere 20% of the total, and if I didn't restore it, the damage to my Marshall II would be the least of my worries in the upcoming battles.

"Hugo," Cyco addressed me.

I drank the contents of the bottle and replied to her. "What is it, Cyco?" "It wouldn't have been this hard if you'd used your Embryo's skill," she said.

"Indeed." I nodded in response. She was completely right. If I'd used my Embryo's skill, I could've won without getting as much as a scratch on me. After all, it was basically the natural enemy of people such as these.

However...

"I can't," I said. "I will only allow myself to use that skill after the plan begins. I am not touching it before that. That's an order from the clan leader, and I made a promise to follow it."

"But no one's watching — not even Ray."

"Even so," I said. "If I were to use the skill before the plan begins, it would have to be a situation when I simply have to do it." And thankfully, it hadn't come to that.

"How stubborn," she said.

"I'm aware," I nodded. "Now, I wonder if there are any kidnapped children in those carriages."

I could easily help them right now, but doing so would made it obvious that using them as hostages would be effective against me. If another battle began while they were aware of that, the scum would begin using them to threaten me.

That would be fine if there were no more bandits left or if Ray had exterminated all the ones still at the fortress, but if some were still alive, trying to help the children in the carriages would be dangerous. I had to leave them there for now.

As such thoughts went through my head...

"...Heh," I grinned.

"Hugo," said Cyco.

"I know."

I sighed slightly and moved the levers to make the Magingear replace the Hand Cannon's empty explosive shot magazine with a full one it had hanging on its waist. Even while doing such a simple action, I couldn't help but be aware that the left arm's movements were noticeably duller.

"I could've put the Marshall II back in the Garage and fixed it up, but it seems I'll have to give up on that," I said. After all — I was all out of time.

Aiming towards the entrance of the fortress, I fired a shot from my Hand Cannon. It went through the open gates and exploded upon hitting the thing standing right behind them.

Any normal human hit by such an attack would've burst into pieces so small that none of them would've reached one kilogram in mass. However, that didn't happen to the creature standing there.

"Damn, that hurts!" it said. "It's kinda hot, too."

With those words, the thing showed itself while displaying no signs of injury or pain.

It was a demon of a large stature. Despite its head being that of an ox, the teeth lining its mouth were all hound-like fangs.

Its height almost matched that of my Marshall II. It even had to bend a bit to fit through the fortress' gates, which were twice as tall as the average person. A single glance was enough to know that it was on an entirely different level from the bandits I'd been fighting until now.

The sight of it made me tremble.

"...I assume you're one of the leaders of the Gouz-Maise Gang?" I asked.

"Ayup," it said. "Y er talkin' to one of the two great leaders of the Gouz-Maise Gang — Strong Gladiator Gouz."

◇◆◇

"Hugo, do you know about category-based personality analysis?" the clan leader had asked soon after I'd joined the clan. It had happened about a month ago in terms of reality's time.

The clan had already become the largest in Dryfe. It was known for having played a great role in the war and was flourishing in terms of both budget and human resources. There was no end to the Masters trying to join, and the total number of members was quickly closing in on a thousand.

Back then, I had still been a rookie whose total Infinite Dendrogram playtime didn't even break a month — a Master who'd just happened to join at that particular time. However, due to some things in reality, the leader had taken an interest in me and invited me into his clan. Because of those circumstances, he and I often had talks such as these.

"Is it something like blood type-based personality analysis?" I asked. "It certainly sounds like it."

I wasn't fond of the idea behind blood type-based personality analysis. Rather than trying to research my character by examining the traits I was born with, I preferred to strive to be someone I

wanted to be. A person's character was best left for the person to decide. Whether here or in reality, I sincerely believed that to be true.

"Blood types, eh?" said the leader. "I don't like personality analysis based on that because the basis for it is extremely weak. I still think that brain — not blood — should be the first thing to look at if you wanted to know how a person ticks. Well, anyway..."

He reached into his inventory and took out a whiteboard. Then he began writing something down on it with a marker. He liked explaining things, so he always had those objects with him.

He also liked scheming, so he often used them to lay out the plans that came to his mind. It wouldn't have been too bad if the schemes could be laughed off, but he often made plots which — while amusing to us — were nothing short of tragic to those affected.

A part of me was often disturbed by such plans, but the part of me that would stop him simply didn't exist.

...Back to the matter at hand.

On the whiteboard, the leader drew a humanoid shape which represented a Master and wrote down several Embryo categories to the side of it.

"Y ou know how, in the Zeroth Form, an Embryo examines the Master's actions, character, and other personal things before using the results to go into the First Form, right? Well, some decided to turn it around, creating this idea that you can find out what kind of person a Master is by looking at the type of their Embryo."

That made sense. Since Embryos were born from the inner workings of Masters, they were far more reliable than blood types.

"The idea was popular about one year ago in terms of real time," said the leader. "I tried my hand at it, too. However, High-Rank Embryos and above had so many irregularities that I couldn't make sense of them at all. There were even some Embryos like mine —

completely unique in terms of typing. In the end, the only results that were somewhat reliable were those I got from four of the five base categories and a certain extra."

The categories he wrote down were Arms, Guardian, Castle, Territory, and just "extra."

"Boss," I spoke up. "I don't see Chariot among the five main categories."

"Chariot, eh?" he repeated. "I actually didn't notice anything definite among Masters with those Embryos. That's why it's not in my results."

What a shame, I thought. I was actually quite curious about that category.

"Now, let me describe them for you," he said. "Arms often belong to people who are courageous and unafraid to get hurt. Reckless, stupid, emotional, hot-blooded. There are many ways to describe them.

Guardian Masters are the opposite — they're cowardly, afraid to get hurt, lonely, or just want to have someone protect them. These two fit the general image, don't you think?"

Weapons and defenses. When the nature of those Embryos was considered, that evaluation seemed to be quite correct. Though I couldn't help but wonder where non-weapon Arms were in all of this.

"Castle Masters are introverted, gentle, careful, cooperative, and have an artisan's temperament. Seems right, no?" he said. "Territory Masters have a lust for control, tend to hoard their stress, create rules for themselves, and are self-righteous and lone wolves. By the way, my Embryo's first category was Castle."

I see, I thought. So, depending on the person, there was room for objections. Especially when you considered the leader's personality and aligned it with the description of Castle Masters.

"There are some hybrids that mix several categories at once, so it's

hard to be completely sure," he added. "But anyway, that's the main categories covered."

"So, boss," I spoke up. "What's the extra category?"

"Maiden."

His answer made my eyes widen, though only a little bit.

"Type Maiden," he said. "A rare category you will encounter every now and then. These Embryos have two main features. First, they're always hybrids that come equipped with another category. And second, their base form is always that of a human. Sure, there are Guardians that take the shape of humanoid monsters, but Maidens are always humans, through and through."

I was fully aware of those features.

"Just so you know, the term 'Maiden' is only used when their human form is female," he continued. "It's different when it's male, but those are just so damn rare."

"So, leader... what are Maiden Masters like?" I asked.

"They don't think that this world is a game. To them, the weight of the lives here is just as great as it is in reality."

His answer made me silently gasp.

"So, got anything to say about my deductions, Hugo?"

I had trouble formulating an answer to that.

◇◆◇

Finally, one of the two leaders of the gang had left the fortress and introduced himself as Gouz, the Strong Gladiator.

"Strong Gladiator" was one of the high-rank jobs from the gladiator grouping. I'd heard that it focused mainly on hand-to-hand combat.

What mattered more than the job itself, however, was the fact that he even had a job, which meant that — despite appearing so monstrous

— he was actually a Demi-Human. That reality was also supported by the fact that he could hold a conversation.

"Man, did you make a mess here," he said. "My boys were such a nice little bunch, and you went and killed them all."

"Y ou say that," I replied, "but I don't see a hint of anger or sadness in you."

"Well, yeah, means I get a buncha free meals, right?"

...This wretch, I thought.

"A kid's meat is sweet and tender, sure," he continued. "But every now and then, I feel like sinking my teeth into the bitter meat of an adult. Did ya know that adult flesh actually becomes more bitter and tastier the more of a dreg they are?"

"Sorry, but I'm a vegetarian," I snapped.

"Really, now? Surprised ya can stay healthy like that. Guess that immortality you Masters have comes packaged with some tough bodies, eh?"

So he knew I was a Master.

"I was watchin' the whole fight from the fortress," he went on. "Y our movements are too good. Don't hafta be a genius to see that you're not the usual soldier."

"Heh," I grinned. "Then you could've come out before I'd killed every single one of your underlings."

"Oh, but having you take care of them saved us the hassle," he said.

"...What?"

"Well, we were actually planning to move out of here," he

explained. "By 'we,' I mean me and the other leader, of course. The underlings and the brats were just in the way, ya know? We planned to kill and eat them all."

The leaders were leaving their hideout and getting rid of their underlings? I thought. What drove them to do that?

"So what's the reason?" I asked.

"Not telling," he said. "Well, I don't actually need any reasons. He said we're doing it, so I'm just tagging along."

So the other leader was above him, while he merely acted as his right hand man.

...That relationship reminded me of a certain someone.

"Thanks to you killing our underlings, all that's left is to eat 'em," he added. "Then just gotta take care of the brats in the dungeon... and the ones the boys just brought us."

He shifted his gaze towards the carriages behind me... specifically, towards the children inside.

"I won't allow that," I said coldly. I made my Marshall II brandish the Battle Knife and aim the Hand Cannon at him.

"Ha ha ha!" he laughed. "Thought as much. But..."

Gouz lowered his center of gravity, and...

"Y 'CAN'T WIN AGAINST ME WITH THAT BROKEN PILE OF JUNK, Y A DUMB SHIT!"

...with a roar that seemed to shake the fortress — no, the whole ground around him — he charged at me while perking his shoulders.

In response to that unrefined — almost suicidal — attack, I swung my Battle Knife at him. Since the explosive shot from my Hand Cannon hadn't worked, I chose to use my melee weapon — a means

of attack with a more focused type of damage — to hit his weak point. Specifically, I aimed at his carotid artery, which was sure to become a fatal injury when damaged.

However, the result was far from my expectations.

"NOT GONNA WORK!"

My Battle Knife actually broke — not by his horns or claws, but by the skin covering his carotid artery.

"Huh?!" I exclaimed.

A moment later, Gouz's large body rammed into my Marshall II and greatly shook the inside of the cockpit.

"MGHHHOOOOOO!"

Though the robot was several times heavier than him, his power was great enough to overcome that difference in weight. After pushing the Marshall II for more than ten meters, Gouz grabbed hold of its torso and threw it in an uncertain direction. Following a momentary floating sensation, the Marshall II crashed into the ground.

"Ghh! Ahhh!" Though the harness fixing me to the machine didn't show any signs of letting go, the force of the impact made the air escape my lungs. I hurriedly tried to regain my breath, but my respiratory system didn't seem to be functioning properly.

I then tried to move the levers to make the Magingear get into a proper position, but it didn't go too well. The Marshall II or myself — I couldn't tell which one was broken.

"Hugo!" said Cyco.

"Heh... ha ha ha," I laughed. "I underestimated him. This ox-head's tough. Clearly among the best high-rank job wielders. He could even aim for a Superior Job if the conditions were right."

However, that couldn't ever happen because the Superior Job of the gladiator grouping — Over Gladiator — had already been taken by that "Figaro" fellow.

Still, there was no denying that Gouz was strong. He could easily defeat high-rank Masters such as myself. Honestly, I wasn't certain if

I could've won against him even if the Marshall II had been in perfect shape.

This robot's ability was equivalent to that of a Demi-Dragon. My level 7 Piloting skill increased its power by 140%, but that still wasn't enough to match this man.

"Hugo," Cyco said again.

"Y es, I can hear you, Cyco," I responded.

"Will you use the skill?" she asked.

I was silent. I still didn't know if that was a good idea.

My power was below that of Gouz. The gap between us was made even greater by the damage I'd sustained.

The Marshall II and I can't hope to win against this tough man-eater, I thought. However, if I use the skill — my Embryo's skill — the result will change drastically. My victory will become certain due to the fact that he is a tough man-eater.

However, I'd made it a point not to use my Embryo's skill until the project, and...

"Man, I'm really workin' up an appetite here," he cut my thoughts short with his words.

Hearing Gouz say that, I looked at him through the Marshall II's cracked camera-eye. Despite being in battle with me, he was facing towards the other direction. Considering my condition, he might've been thinking that the battle was over.

Gouz was messing with a corpse of one of his underlings. He removed the armor, stripped off the clothes... and sank his fangs into the flesh.

"Mm, them's good eatin'," he spoke while eating, courtesy be damned. "It's just so... complete. Wouldn't expect less from my boys."

With those words, bite by bite, he devoured his underling whole. As the sight filled me with an urge to vomit, I looked at my equipment window and tested the levers to determine the Marshall II's condition.

More than 70% of the armor was lost, while the damage to the armor that remained was critical. The left arm wasn't moving at all. The right arm's movements were dull. The legs, however, were still mobile.

As for weapons... the Hand Cannon had been lost along with the left hand. The Battle Knife had been completely destroyed. The Marshall II had been rendered useless for battle.

"My choices are..."

...to use the skill or retreat without using it, I thought.

I couldn't use the skill because of the plan.

I couldn't let myself get the death penalty here because the plan was commencing tomorrow.

Thus, I had to run away...

But if I retreated, Ray was still here. There was the possibility that he could defeat Gouz. Therefore, even if I retreated...

"Main course over — guess I'll have dessert!" He cut my thoughts short again and took something out of the bag hanging at his waist.

Once I realized what it was... my mind almost blanked out completely.

The thing in Gouz's hand was about the size of a ball. Small eyes — open wide and filled with terror, swaying hair — long and drenched in blood... It was unmistakably a human head. The head of a little girl.

Gouz threw it into his mouth as nonchalantly as one would a piece of candy. The demonic fangs lining his oral cavity fell downwards, mashing the child's skull with ease.

"Man, it's so good," he said. "Kid meat's tastiest when they know they're about to die, y'know that? But my appetite ain't quite sated yet."

Saying that, Gouz began making his way towards the carriage, and his intentions became immediately clear.

"Gh..." The deed I'd just witnessed and the realization of what he was going to do made all the hesitation in my mind fade away like it had never been there. What took its place was pure, unadulterated wrath.

"Hugo!" Cyco called out to me again.

"Cyco," I replied.

"Will you use the skill?"

"You already know the answer to that."

Though it was still severely damaged, I made my Marshall II stand upright.

"Gouz!" I yelled.

The ox-head turned around when he heard his own name called out.

"Huhh? Y a still awake, ya Master piece of shit?" he asked.

Awake? I repeated the word in my head. How appropriate.

Indeed — I had been half-asleep until now. I hadn't used the skill because of the plan. And because of the same plan, I'd chosen to avoid getting the death penalty and run away.

How thoroughly absurd. That wasn't me at all.

The Hugo Lesseps I strived to be wasn't this unsightly an individual.

Thus, I made my wrath known.

"I declare that I will no longer tolerate you!"

My words made Gouz laugh. "Ha ha ha! Big words, comin' from a Master who treats my entire world like a little game! Y ou aren't the first of your kind to come here, and let me tell ya — none of the ones before ya were actually serious about whatever they were doing. Y ou shits can't die in this world, so what's it matter to you? Y ou can't ever know the fear of death my kind know!"

"Indeed," I said. "We Masters all enter this world with the intention to play. However, there are some that listen to the voices of those who call this world their home. Some that grieve when hearing the dying cries of the weak. And some who use that to set what they really are."

Thus, I had decided on my role in this world.

I was the thorn of a rose. A spike meant to pierce any and all scoundrels trying to ravage beautiful flowers and precious lives.

That was the true Hugo Lesseps. The role I'd willingly given to myself.

"Be aware," I said. "For the sin of ending lives too many to count, I will send you into the bowels of Hell."

Following the set role, I faced the scoundrel — Gouz — and declared, "My hell will destroy you." He would pay for all his sins.

"DO Y OUR WORST, Y A PIECE OF SHIT!" Gouz screamed in

exasperation, and charged at me once again.

Another attack from him could completely destroy the Marshall II and kill me alongside it. However, that had no chance of happening at this point.

"Cyco!"

Cyco stood up on the robot's shoulder.

"Crest Disguise... Disable," she said. Through the camera-eye, I could see Gouz's face fill with surprise. It was only natural, considering what he'd just seen.

Cyco suddenly appeared on the Marshall II and made the crest on her left hand — the proof of a Master — disappear.

Indeed — Cyco was not a Master.

A Master of that name simply didn't exist.

Cyco's true identity was...

"Cocytus, it's time."

"Y es, Master."

Cyco — Cocytus — disintegrated to become a gathering of white and blue particles that showered the Marshall II, merged with it, and drastically changed its appearance.

The surroundings were momentarily overwhelmed by a whirling blizzard, followed by a brief whiteout.

In the center of it all stood Cocytus and I — taking the shape of a completely reconstructed Marshall II.

The robot was now equipped with new armor reminiscent of transparent, white ice. In its hands and on its head were cross-like blades that were made of blue ice.

Due to its replenished magic, the Marshall II's output was now greater than it had been when it was completely unharmed. Its appearance was reminiscent of an anthropomorphized church made of ice.

This was my Embryo.

The true form of Cocytus — a Type Maiden with Chariot.

"GRRROOAAAAGGHHHHHHH!"

Despite what had just transpired, Gouz didn't stop his charge.

That was the correct reaction. Not knowing hesitation or fear, Gouz was a perfect example of a true warrior.

He was strong, indeed.

But it was already over for him. The moment I'd decided to use Cocytus' power, Gouz had lost all chance of emerging victorious. It didn't matter how tough of a man-eater he was.

The stage was set.

The gates of hell were opening to welcome another sinner.

"Omnes relinquite spes, o vos intrantes."

After reciting the words etched onto the entrance to hell — "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here" — I activated the skill.

"La Porte de l'Enfer."

Moments later, Gouz's life reached a bitter end.

◇◇◇

Paladin Ray Starling

The world of Infinite Dendrogram had a job system.

Just as I had my "Paladin" job, so did other Masters and tians have theirs. The only people who didn't have jobs were Masters who had just started Infinite Dendrogram and tian children.

Jobs were many and varied. Vanguard roles alone had job groupings such as Knight — which included my Paladin job — Swordsman, Warrior, Gladiator, Pugilist, Samurai, and so on.

Then there were job groupings for rearguard roles, support roles, crafting roles, et cetera... When summed up, they were just too many to properly grasp.

The catalog my brother had given me had the conditions for acquiring every low-rank and high-rank job. The entries there amounted to several thousands, and — naturally — I still had trouble remembering them all. The number of active Masters was several hundred thousand, and I had a feeling that — if jobs had been split evenly among them — there would've been fewer than one hundred people on each of them. Of course, the actual job distribution was nowhere near "even." Rook's Pimp job, for example, wasn't too popular among Masters.

There was no denying that the number of jobs available for people in other MMORPGS was incomparable to that of Dendro's freedom. But despite this overwhelmingly great amount, there was one job that was etched into my mind. It was one I couldn't quite forget about.

It was a job named "Necromancer."

Its selling points were its many debuff skills, offensive dark magic skills...

...and, of course, Necromancy — the skill that allowed one to turn corpses into tamed monsters at the cost of MP.

It could be used on both people and creatures without any problems.

Of course, the difficulty of turning a corpse into a tamed monster

depended on how powerful the creature was when alive.

On the other hand, that meant that children — being nearly powerless — could be turned into undead without much trouble.

The catalog said that one of the conditions to get the high-rank job of the Necromancer grouping was related to the number of successful uses of the Necromancy skill. I'd read on the wiki that some tian criminals were Necromancers who used children and the sickly to increase that counter for that very purpose. Some theorized that getting the Superior Job of this grouping involved a similar condition.

The implications of the idea made me sick, so I'd etched the existence of Necromancers into my memory. And now, it all came back to me.

Trying to make sense of why the Gouz-Maise Gang was kidnapping children, I made my way towards the end of the underground hallway.

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It was a straight path without any branches, so all I had to do was go forward.

Although I didn't encounter any bandits, I had to face some undead — adults this time — blocking my way.

They'd probably been made from corpses that had gathered here when the fortress had still been occupied by the army. Then again, they could've just as well been the remains of the adventurers the bandits had defeated.

I destroyed each and every undead in my way. Even if they had been people once, I couldn't let them stop me. If I did, the dead would just keep piling up.

Finally, I reached the end of the hallway, where I was greeted by a door. A heavy-set thing of wood, secured by a steel padlock, it

separated me from the room behind it, where I felt the presence of living creatures.

"Hhgh!"

I swung my Nemesis down on the door itself, rather than the padlock. As pieces of wood scattered all over, I jumped inside and examined the surroundings.

I was fully ready to cut down any gang members that were awaiting me, but the only living creatures here were caged children.

There was a total of seven of them.

From their closed eyes, I could tell that they were in deep sleep. I didn't know which, but I had little doubt that one of them was Roddie

— the one we had to save. Of course, I fully intended to save them all, quest-related or not.

I found it a bit strange that the children seemed to be the only people here.

"Not a single gang member?" I said in confusion.

"This room had a padlock on it, after all," said Nemesis. "It might be fair to assume they left the child-watching to the undead."

"I guess that makes sense." I cautiously examined the children and the condition they were in. Reaching through the grates, I gently shook some of them, but they showed no signs of awakening.

"I assume they're either drugged or under the effect of some debuff spell," commented Nemesis.

"Probably," I nodded. It was just my intuition, but I believed it to be magic. After all, the one who'd done it was probably the one who'd made undead out of those children in the hallway.

To him, they were just cards to use to get ransom money. And if it

didn't come, he'd readily kill them and use his Necromancy to desecrate their corpses. I was beyond disgusted.

"Master, look to the right," Nemesis said.

I looked, saw another door — an iron one this time. Upon approaching it, I lightly spun the doorknob. The way it felt made it obvious that it wasn't locked and that I'd have no trouble opening it.

"Will you go inside?" asked Nemesis.

"Of course," I replied.

I spun the doorknob and quickly kicked the door open. I had

already broken one door. If there was someone in here, then there was no reason for me to act all stealthy.

"Is that a...?" I began.

The first thing I saw after entering was a person. A young boy, to be precise. He was sleeping — just like the children in the cages. In the middle of the room, on the floor under him, there was a highly detailed magic circle.

"There's a lot to be said about the tastes of the owner of this room." Nemesis' voice was steeped in anger.

The magic circle on the floor wasn't the only thing she was referring to. In fact, the magic circle was tame when compared to the rest of the scene.

Stains of blood covered both the walls and the ceiling. Something's leather was heaped against the edge of the room. A nearby barrel was overflowing with white bones. The table next to the wall was covered in utensils and materials, but nothing really stood out until I saw a taxidermy construction of a right hand with twenty fingers, which compelled me to shift my gaze away.

I silently suppressed my rage. There was no denying that we were

standing in the laboratory of the Necromancer who'd created those undead.

However, the Necromancer himself was nowhere in sight. It was safe to assume that he'd gone out to face Hugo.

The child on the magic circle was probably going to be his next guinea pig. We'd saved him by coming here.

"What now?" asked Nemesis. "Should we ensure the children's safety or go help Hugo with the bandit elimination?"

That was a hard decision to make. Saving the children was our primary goal, but carrying all seven of them somewhere safe would be too difficult for me alone. However, if I left them here and went out to fight, I'd increase the possibility of them being used as hostages.

My other option was to stay here and protect the children while Hugo took care of the bandits, but it'd all go to hell if Hugo got killed.

"Man, this is a tough one..." I sighed.

"For now, I think you should take that youngling to the other room," said Nemesis. "I don't know what kind of magic circle that is, but I don't believe it's safe for a child to sleep on."

I nodded and moved towards the child in the circle.

After a few steps, I stepped on something that seemed strange. It was a particularly thick piece of cloth. At first glance, it looked like a thin mattress made of felt, but I soon noticed that it had a pair of sleeves sewn on it, making it clear that it was a piece of clothing — a robe, to be precise. What seemed strange wasn't the fact that clothing was lying on the ground, but the fact that I could feel something hard under it.

I kicked the robe away to find out what it was.

"These are..."

...bones — that was the source of the hard sensation beneath my feet.

Their presence didn't surprise me in the least. The nearby barrel was full of them, after all. However, I found it strange that half of the bones were those of a human, while the other half belonged to something else. The non-human bones were thicker and reminded me of a horse skeleton I'd seen in a museum once.

"How did human and horse bones end up lying in the same place?" I asked.

"I would guess they belong to a horse-man," said Nemesis. "As far as I am aware, this is just about how their skeletal remains look."

That reminded me that, back in Gideon, I had seen some members of a race that looked much like the centaurs from Greek myth.

I glanced back down at my feet. The upper body and skull bones clearly belonged to a human, while the bones that matched to the lower body seemed about the right fit for an equine. Indeed, there was little doubt that they belonged to a horse-man.

However, there were things to be said about their large size. I didn't know that race's average, but at the very least, it was clear that it didn't belong to a child.

How did the bones of a mature horse-man end up here? I thought.

"The Necromancer might've somehow gotten his hands on one of their corpses and used it in his experiments," said Nemesis.

"He would've cleaned it up if that was the case," I argued. "After all, he's already preparing his next guinea pig."

I looked at the child on the magic circle. It didn't take a genius to see that the Necromancer was fully ready for the next experiment. He

wouldn't have left the bones from a previous experiment just lying on the floor like this.

I mean, the madman is methodical enough to put all the other bones in that barrel there, I thought.

"Trying to understand the thought process of a madman is a fool's errand, if you ask me," said Nemesis.

"...No point in considering it, huh?" I muttered.

She had a point. My prime objective was to move that child away from here.

After using Nemesis to shatter the magic circle multiple times and making sure that I wouldn't activate some strange magic, I stepped inside and picked the boy up.

Sleeping on the cold floor had made his body temperature drop. Still, he was breathing properly and had a stable pulse. Slightly relieved, I began carrying him on my back and made my way out of the room.

Suddenly, I felt his breath behind me.

That was normal — considering where he was — but for some reason, a chill arced down my spine like lightning...

"Die."

I was unsure of where that word came from. But it was too late. I heard the sound of a blade slicing my neck.

Somehow I'd missed it, but the child on my back had a dagger in his hands.

As my carotid artery began oozing blood, I fell to the cold, stony floor.

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