Icarus

“What the hell is that?”

Aaron Dyke frowned.

He could not understand that lowborn wretch. They were different from birth. That sort of thing was probably what the vulgar called “going off the rails.” In the end, it meant he was the sort who only knew how to say whatever he wanted.

It did not matter.

The desert was Aaron Dyke’s domain.

“Icarus. Let’s go.”

“Activating.”

At the artificial intelligence’s reply, Aaron Dyke’s Titan, Icarus, began walking forward.

Aaron did not let his guard down carelessly against any opponent.

On any battlefield, Aaron had never once been careless. Because he was not a born genius.

Because he did not believe the words that he was a born genius.

His opponent was called a born genius who had overcome the limits of his origins. Aaron had seen the footage showing those impossible movements. It had shocked him a little.

However, the only Titan he had actually handled was a high-mobility type. That was his weakness.

The desert was the worst environment for handling a high-mobility Titan. Its feet sank into the sand, and with insufficient generator output, even maintaining hovering was difficult.

By contrast, Icarus had been built for the desert.

Its enormous generator output maximized hover time, and its ground contact area had been widened so its feet would not sink into the sand.

Not only was it equipped with armaments capable of long-range bombardment, it also had plenty of weapons that could be used in close combat. Limited to the desert, Icarus was a perfect all-purpose machine.

Icarus’s steps were slow.

He had seen it before. Deep used a strategy of charging at his opponent the instant combat began. If he had used the same strategy in the desert, he would inevitably be bogged down.

“Sensor readings?”

“Sensors are malfunctioning due to the sand. Visual observation is recommended.”

Due to the long war, most of the continent had undergone desertification mixed with heavy metals. Sandstorms interfered with sensors every time.

But it was something that could be overcome with experience.

“Right. I see him.”

The opposing Titan began to appear through the sandstorm. As expected, its feet were not visible, as if they had sunk into the sand.

“As I thought, his feet got stuck while he was running.”

He halted his two feet and aligned the cannon mounted on his shoulder forward. There was no need to approach.

“This battlefield was too advantageous for me. If he asks for a rematch next time, I suppose I’ll have to accept.”

“Is that noblesse oblige?”

“Obviously.”

Boom!

He fired the shell. The sand that burst up in that instant obscured his vision. He could not properly confirm whether it had hit directly, but there was no way it had not.

Aaron Dyke thought so for about three seconds.

“Why isn’t the simulation ending?”

The sound of movement.

At the same time, the gun barrel was smashed apart.

***

“I don’t like this body. It’s ugly.”

“Ah, th-that, I’m sorry.”

“It doesn’t have arms or feet. What even is this?”

“I’m really, really sorry. I won’t use it again after this.”

There were truly all kinds of builds in Titan Core.

For example, an extreme time-limit build.

A round of Titan Core was basically fifteen minutes. If the battle did not end within fifteen minutes, the outcome was decided by calculating remaining health.

That was where people split.

Those who conserved as much health as possible over fifteen minutes while wearing down their opponent, and those who tried to smash their opponent within an extremely short time and move on to the next round.

Deep belonged to the latter type.

What he had thought up for that purpose was a Titan that could fight for only three minutes.

A large generator was crammed into an ultralight frame, and for the sake of weight reduction, both arms and even the feet used for grounding were removed.

Ranged weapons were not adopted in the first place, and because it had no arms, it used only a close-combat greatsword fixed to its upper body.

For three minutes only, this Titan could continuously use hovering and possess absurd mobility. Once three minutes passed, it would shut down due to generator overload, and that would be the end of it.

He had thought there would never be any occasion to use a machine like this in this world.

This world was at war. War was not fought alone. Countless enemies would be encountered on the battlefield at once, and on such a battlefield, a Titan that could only move for a mere three minutes was useless.

But a simulation was different.

A limited situation. A single limited enemy. Limited time, and a limited place.

It was the same as Titan Core, the game.

Those who had experienced real battlefields could never react when they encountered a Titan that could never be used on an actual battlefield.

Just like Aaron Dyke, whose gun barrel had just been torn off before his eyes.

How had Professor Zeke figured out this machine the moment he saw it?

“Wh-what, what the hell is that?!”

Through the billowing sand, close-range network communication connected.

At the same time as the repulsive force blasted from the hover nozzles, the Titan circled once around Icarus. Sand exploded outward, blocking vision like a storm.

“What the hell is it?!”

Clack!

“Deep, he’s going to fire wildly!”

I know. That sound just now was him taking out a standard automatic rifle armament.

This Titan had even minimized its armor for the sake of ultralight weight. It could not allow even a single hit. The method was surprisingly simple. Dodge in a way he could never imagine.

“Ailey, calculate the gyroscope!”

“I’m already doing it!”

He tilted the Titan’s body until it was on the verge of falling over. Barely, truly only just enough that it would not fall.

Tudududududududu!

Bullets skimmed past overhead. Not a single one hit. And from the start, he had no intention of being hit even once.

That was what this was for.

Full-power, I hate it.

The thrusters spat flame in short bursts. The hovering Titan shot forward like a bullet. One of Icarus’s ankles was severed clean off. Its body began to fall.

“From below?!”

The moment Icarus belatedly tried to hover, its body instead began to collapse even faster. Naturally, since it had lost one leg and with it its center of gravity.

He did not intend to leave it that way.

“Don’t get comfortable!”

Clang!

As it tried to fall, he kicked it with his leg and forced it upright.

“What kind of Titan kicks?!”

He did not answer.

He knew. He had fought Titans of the House of Duke Dyke any number of times.

Close combat using hovering in desert environments. Blinding the enemy with sand, then finishing them with sniping and bombardment from long range.

He had been so sickened by that merciless strategy that he had made this short-decisive-battle Titan. In a manner of speaking, it was the most extreme modification of the House of Duke Dyke’s Titans.

My Titan is still moving. That means three minutes have not passed. The enemy has lost one leg and cannot run.

“Urgh,”

Sudden acceleration.

His body had endured one burst of sudden acceleration for a short time, but two was difficult. A metallic taste spread through his mouth, and his vision briefly went dark.

The moment his vision brightened again, he belatedly checked the situation. One of Icarus’s arms had already fallen off.

“Ailey!”

“Say it!”

“Repeat!”

“If you do that, you’ll—”

“Repeat!”

He accelerated again.

Before the arm holding a weapon could even swing toward him, he smashed that arm first.

Before the second gun barrel hanging on the shoulder could fire, he tore it off first.

Before it happened. Before they could do it. Faster than the enemy. Moving later than the moment the enemy began to move, yet producing a result faster than the enemy.

The opponent absolutely would not expose his core.

He was not seeing it with his eyes and losing the trajectory. He was reading the interval between sudden acceleration and braking, always turning his body diagonally away from any trajectory that could aim at him.

If his body had been fine, if his body could have endured the sudden acceleration, he would not have needed to leave the piloting to Ailey. He could have moved more precisely and targeted the core.

“Ten seconds until generator shutdown!”

Time flowed away helplessly. Even though only one leg remained of his opponent’s limbs, auxiliary frames kept appearing from Icarus, blocking and attempting attacks.

“Ailey, stop me!”

“S-suddenly?”

“Yes! Stop while maintaining the maximum distance possible for acceleration!”

Sudden acceleration, then abrupt braking.

Cold sweat poured down all at once, and saliva began to stream from his mouth. Proof that vomiting was close.

With one hand, he clamped down on his mouth to stop himself from throwing up, while his eyes stared at Icarus.

It was a complete mess, but conversely, it made him certain that he absolutely could not win.

“This must be the difference in real combat experience.”

A situation created by interactions that had been impossible in the actual game. An environment where ricochets, acceleration recoil, and everything else had to be taken into account.

It was a world Deep had not known.

However, now he knew one thing for certain.

“At this point, you should understand how much I hate you.”

“Well, I do understand.”

Aaron Dyke answered slowly, panting for breath.

“But doesn’t that only mean something if you win?”

Come.

As if saying that, Icarus discarded all its weapons and exposed its core. The close-range network communication cut off as well.

There should be no way to respond.

He was not worried about his opponent. He was not strong enough to afford that.

“Ailey. The fine control is—”

“Leave it to me!”

“Accelerate.”

He pushed the stick and pedals forward at the same time. As the thrusters activated, the machine accelerated rapidly. His vision blurred slightly, making detailed control impossible.

And at that moment, what entered his sight was Aaron’s—no, Icarus’s movement.

“Hovering?”

That body, unable to balance, floated slightly into the air and slid forward, thrusting out its one remaining foot.

Titans did not originally kick.

But if one learned that they could, then all one had to do was copy it.

“This is practical in real combat, lowborn!”

The greatsword fixed to the upper body pierced through the leg and lodged there. It was fixed in place. It became impossible even to move and shift the trajectory or cut through.

The two Titans that had been hovering in midair crashed to the ground at the same time. The two machines slid along the sand and stopped simultaneously.

One had suffered generator shutdown, the other limb collapse.

Just as he thought it was a draw, an auxiliary arm emerged from Icarus’s side and raised a weapon. A standard pistol.

“How many weapons does that thing have?”

That equipment, which had meant absolutely nothing against Kaiser, was now more fatal than anything to my Titan.

Thoom!

At the same time as the generator took a direct hit and exploded, the screen went dark, and the hatch opened.

“I lost.”

The moment the hatch opened, Professor Zeke held out a plastic bag.

He gratefully accepted it and immediately threw up.