“I watched your sparring match too. It was quite interesting. A shield on a high-mobility type was beyond common sense.”
Originally, the routine for this time was fixed. First, Aaron would ask me to spar.
I would avoid Aaron while choosing a build, then nod and accept the match. We’d do two or three light sparring matches, and then one hard one at the end.
After that, I’d rest, then use the random sparring system in the simulation room to grab some pilot and spar again. If there was time, I could even do it twice.
That was the amazing, excellent routine I had going.
“Why? Got a problem?”
“N-no, sir.”
Of course I had a problem. If Professor Zeke hadn’t mentioned it, this could have passed relatively quietly.
For a while now, I’d been feeling stinging gazes on the back of my head. If I turned and met their eyes, I’d immediately become like a Pocket Monster trainer.
“Don’t look away. If you look away and meet someone’s eyes, they’ll challenge you to a match.”
Competitive spirit or curiosity.
If that was all I felt, it wouldn’t be uncomfortable. It was uncomfortable because what I felt went beyond competitive spirit and curiosity.
Questioning. Suspicion. And among them, the gaze that bothered me most was hostility.
The reason was simple.
“There’s no way you’re ranked higher than me. That thought will make the cadets around you move. To the other nobles and geniuses, you’re a stone that rolled in and wedged itself among them.”
“Fifty-ninth place isn’t objectively that high of a rank…”
“It isn’t a high rank. Even at best, it’s around the top thirty percent. You can’t call it low, but it isn’t high enough to call high either.”
Professor Zeke said firmly.
“The problem is your growth rate and potential. You know the state your body is in right now.”
That just sounded like pure insult.
“You’re too thin and have no muscle. Once muscle builds on that body of yours, once you gain stamina and your concentration improves, you’ll be able to display the movements of a true high-mobility type.”
In this sparring match, I hadn’t made use of Ailey’s mobility at all.
The environment itself had been a jungle in the first place. It was hard to bring out Ailey’s mobility there. And since I was using smoke screens, I couldn’t make excessively fast movements either.
In the end, my strategy had been to cover my slower-than-usual movements with a shield and smoke screens, then approach steadily and finish the enemy off.
Rando and Ian both probably thought that custom setup had been for strategic reasons.
“If your body had been in proper condition, you would have been able to bring out your Titan’s top speed even in the jungle.”
Only Professor Zeke thought I had matched the custom to suit my body’s condition.
It was something you could figure out if you thought about it a little. There was no reason for me, someone who preferred extreme custom setups, to adopt a shield on a high-mobility Titan.
“You did well to accept my advice. There are plenty of pilots who let pride get in the way and ignore the advice of others.”
By advice, he clearly meant the advice Professor Zeke had given me when I first sparred with Aaron.
Don’t use a high-mobility type. Your body can’t endure it yet.
It had been true. In fact, every time I used a high-mobility type, I could clearly feel my body being overworked. After that, the only time I had operated a Titan beyond my skill level was during the Fafnir fight.
“Besides, considering you lost quite a few points for using smoke screens, your actual rank should be counted about five places higher. Though even then, you still wouldn’t make the top twenty-five percent.”
In practical terms, it wasn’t a rise of 117 places, but 122.
Just hearing it made my breath catch. Professor Zeke, on the other hand, simply continued speaking as though something about this amused him.
“You have talent. I guarantee it. But it’s a talent others don’t have. A talent that an ordinary professor wouldn’t even know how to polish.”
I knew as soon as I heard it. There was only one talent Professor Zeke would describe that way.
“Sync, is it?”
“The more oblivious someone is about human relationships, the sharper they are when it comes to theory.”
Was that supposed to be praise for getting it right?
“To put it simply, your sync is at a level similar to mine.”
A level similar to Professor Zeke’s sync. In other words.
“Is, is there some kind of nu-number for sync?”
Did that mean there was a way to quantify it?
“There isn’t. You just get a rough sense of it by feel.”
When I stared at him, Professor Zeke narrowed his eyes.
“Your expression.”
“Ah.”
I quickly rubbed my dry face and fixed my eyes, and Professor Zeke’s narrowed eyes returned to normal.
“Even now, from a technical standpoint, a Titan’s response sensitivity has already been pushed to its limit. If someone hasn’t received proper piloting training, they could step on the pedal and kick the core with their own knee, killing themselves.”
The example was too specific to be a lie, so it could only be something that had actually happened.
In a way, this was also a military story. If it sounded absurd, then it was probably true.
“The role of artificial intelligence is to control and adjust that level of response sensitivity while assisting the pilot’s movements. But if the AI and the pilot think differently…”
“It’ll be… slower.”
I didn’t really care about the technical details.
To summarize, the higher the sync, the faster the Titan’s response speed.
“Then you can just keep ma-mass-producing them until you get an AI with high sync.”
“It’s the same reason only the Empire uses artificial intelligence.”
What?
“Only the Empire u-uses artificial intelligence?”
“The development cost of artificial intelligence is extremely high, and it’s not something that can be mass-produced in the first place. The Titans used by ordinary soldiers don’t have AI. Cadets who enter the Academy are expected to become commanding officers, so they’re issued one.”
“Then.”
“It means the Empire is the only one wealthy enough to develop artificial intelligence and supply it to Titans.”
So that was why the allied nations couldn’t break through the Empire even when they joined forces from every direction and waged all-out war.
Wait.
“But the Imperial Princess doesn’t use artificial intelligence.”
“If your sync isn’t as high as yours or mine, it’s faster not to use AI. Instead, the amount of manual operation you have to handle increases severalfold.”
“H-how much faster does it get?”
“Well, if we assume a standard pilot whose sync doesn’t match, perhaps about three times faster than normal. Though the amount of manual control increases so much that they can’t fully make use of that threefold speed.”
Saya Aslan was operating her Titan three times faster than a normal Titan?
“On the other hand, you and I, who have high sync, can truly operate Titans three times faster than others.”
It was literally something that could only be called innate talent or luck.
Ah.
Maybe this was what the innate pilot trait gave me. Until now, it had been the trait whose effect I’d perceived the most vaguely, but in reality, it had been working the hardest.
“S-so what?”
Anyway.
“What?”
There had to be a reason he was telling only me this separately.
“Your tone is rather irritating, but in any case, you’re right. For people with high sync, there’s a thorough training method that suits them.”
“Wh-what is it?”
There it was. Something had finally popped up.
It was a little strange that a proper growth event was only starting two months after entering the Academy, but anyway, it had appeared.
No, the methods for growth inside the Academy were probably monopolized by Levan. This must be something Levan couldn’t take.
Because Levan had low sync.
“Normally, when you come to the simulation room, how many simulations do you run?”
“Yes?”
“Answer.”
If I added the three with Levan and the two random ones with strangers…
“If it’s a lot, a-about five times.”
“Five times. Five times, is it. Since you have no stamina, you must take fairly long breaks in between.”
“Y-yes.”
Professor Zeke nodded and headed toward the simulation machines. When I naturally followed behind him, Professor Zeke gave me a puzzled look.
“You should be going to the opposite side, not my side.”
“Yes?”
“Why do you keep asking back?”
Because he kept saying things that made me ask back.
If he was telling me to go to the opposite side…
“A-are you saying I should spar with you, Professor Zeke?”
“Correct.”
Professor Zeke nodded.
“Having high sync with an AI means your ways of thinking in combat are similar. But even so, a gap is bound to occur. Do you know why?”
“I-I don’t.”
“Because the pilot physically interferes with the Titan, while the AI interferes with the Titan through thought alone.”
What did that mean?
“That brief moment when you move the stick is the gap.”
“Ah, I see. But why does that mean I have to spar with you, Professor Zeke…”
“I thought you’d understand.”
Professor Zeke pushed me firmly on the back and made me get into the simulation machine. He pulled the seat belt and fastened my body in place, then grabbed the hatch.
“Your body should know how to move in order to survive.”
He said something unsettling as if it were only natural.
“If you don’t immediately carry out the movement you thought of, you die. Once you experience that, someday the gap will disappear.”
“Yes?”
Clank.
The hatch closed. In the pitch-black darkness, I had no choice but to connect my smartwatch to the connector.
The moment the core was realized inside the simulation, the core’s internal speaker crackled.
“About Professor Zeke.”
“Yes.”
“I think he’s out of his mind, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
The screen turned on.
At the same time, Balmung sliced through my core with its greatsword.
The screen went dark.
“Huh?”
He wanted me to react to that?
How?
“We’ll do this nine more times.”
“Say something that makes sense…”
The screen turned on again.
Balmung activated its thrusters and flew in, swinging its greatsword.