Chapter 67

Colonial City.

There is no hope for those who live there.

…

A group of people gathered in the open space, glancing furtively at each other.

Their emaciated bodies, hollow cheeks, and the clothes on their backs were hardly even rags—calling them so would be a luxury.

– @#$&%

Suddenly, an indescribable, artificial sound echoes throughout the area.

But upon hearing it, every person in the open space begins to run desperately.

Click.

A bulky, box-shaped gun barrel is aimed at their backs.

From left to right, right to left, the gun slowly scans before finally stopping.

Crackle.

A crimson beam, accompanied by a flash of light, fires out.

“Auuaga-”

Seized by excruciating pain coursing through his body, a man in the center of the group collapses to the ground.

Streaks of red blood splatter onto his filthy clothes.

“Urgh, urghh. Aaaaah—”

The man writhes on the ground, wracked by the terrible pain in his shoulder.

But the Imperial soldier who pulled the trigger approaches him with a wide grin.

“Alright, let’s see.”

As he mutters these words, the soldier rips off the man’s clothing.

Underneath is a crude mark, as though it had been branded with a hot iron.

3.

“Shit—”

The soldier grimaces as soon as he sees the symbol.

And as if they’d been waiting for it, his comrades begin to mock him, some clapping or whistling.

“Kehehe. Look at that, didn’t I say it?”

“This ain’t bad luck; it’s like he got cursed by the stars.”

They exchange comments and even money—the Imperial common currency.

The soldier who fired feels less annoyed by the fact that his comrades had bet on his failure than by the current situation.

“Damn it! Is there some kind of trick going on?”

“You pulled the trigger, why are you blaming someone else?”

“…Fuck!”

A gun is aimed at the man once again.

The trigger is pulled once more.

Crackle.

“Gk—”

The crimson beam pierces the man’s head, and he stops moving altogether.

“Oh, you idiot. You killed him again?”

“Did the captain not tell you not to waste the livestock like this? Seriously, you’re such a dumbass.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do?!”

Fuming, the soldier swears loudly and heads off somewhere alone.

But no one among them pays any attention to the man with a hole in his head.

Because it’s only natural.

In this city, humans are nothing but livestock—nothing more.

Once killed, they’re consumed as meat; otherwise, they’re raised to vent frustrations or used as cheap labor. That’s all.

Under alien rule, humanity was no longer the dominant species.

“Hey, next time if you’re going to kill someone, shoot a kid. That way we might at least get some tasty snacks.”

“Yeah, grown-ups are just too tough and tasteless.”

“Should I care about your taste buds?”

Just as the soldiers were exchanging pointless banter, a red light blinked on the communication devices attached to their suits.

[To all forces. To all forces. All ground-based forces, prepare full combat gear and assemble at the landing zone. Again—]

“What? Suddenly?”

“Exactly…”

Their puzzled expressions quickly vanish as a different sound follows.

[Attention, this is an actual threat. This is an actual threat. All ground forces—]

The soldiers’ faces instantly harden.

And without needing to be told, they begin grabbing their weapons and running toward the designated area.

The tangled streets of the city.

Tat, Tada tat.

The soldiers of the Empire charge through the maze-like streets without hesitation.

Like liquid flowing from a high place to a lower one, soldiers gather from all over the city.

Their destination is the shuttle landing pad set up in what the humans once called a playground.

The shuttles are already open and waiting.

In front of them, non-commissioned officers and officers are shouting orders at the soldiers.

“Board! Board now!!”

“What’s going on?”

“The enemy has infiltrated the ship. Hurry, hurry!!”

Soldiers quickly fill the shuttles.

Their gazes are sharp and merciless, yet at the same time, their hearts hold confusion and tension.

“Shit, what did we do to have an enemy on the ship—”

“You piece of shit assistant officer, I told you this was going to happen!”

Soldiers mumble curses and complaints.

What they all had in common was that they were originally part of the crew of a small escort vessel.

“What’s happening?”

“Damn it…”

On the other hand, the ordinary infantrymen become anxious, looking around cautiously.

But experienced soldiers keep questioning the officers and commanders.

“Lieutenant, why are we boarding the cargo shuttle? What about the Tripods we had stationed?”

“Communication is cut off. For now, the priority is extracting the troops.”

“But—”

“That’s an order!”

One by one, the shuttles take off.

This way, the aliens scattered across the city return to the escort ship.

And silently observing them are the humans left behind.

“Uh, Harabum, what’s happening?”

The halting speech of a dirty young girl who approaches the old man, clutching his sleeve.

Anxious eyes. Seeing the child’s face, the old man smiles faintly and tries to calm her as much as possible.

“I don’t know either, but something serious is going on. Don’t be scared.”

“I’m scared…”

“That’s alright, come here.”

The old man wraps the small girl in a tight embrace.

With the hope that this small warmth might protect them, he looks up at the spacecraft with eyes filled with apprehension.

…

Meanwhile, in the hangar of the escort ship, loud commands are echoing.

“Rally! Rally!!”

“Troop formation! 1st platoon to the left, 2nd platoon to the center! Move quickly!!”

Imperial soldiers disembark from the shuttles and move seamlessly under the leadership of non-commissioned officers and officers.

The empty hangar of the ship is quickly filled with shuttles and soldiers.

The highest-ranking officer among them, the advisor, has the commanding officers of various units racing to him.

“The 488th Infantry Battalion is fully assembled.”

“The 392nd Infantry Battalion is also ready.”

“All our crew and guards have gathered.”

The advisor quietly nods.

Reptilian in appearance with emerald-green skin and no visible eyes or nose—a unique and alien visage.

Eventually, his forehead cracks open, revealing a large eye encased in jelly-like fluid.

His bizarre and unsettling appearance, even among the diverse species within the Empire’s ranks.

Still, as though familiar with it all, the advisor’s gaze turns to the awaiting officer.

The advisor silently stares, piercing through the officer.

Realizing something, the officer nods and raises his voice.

“Alright, we’re moving into the ship. All forces—”

Then, suddenly.

Crackling static, like the flow of electricity, fills the air. The hangar is enclosed by a barrier.

“Hmm?”

The sight causes the officer to pause mid-sentence and look around cautiously.

The advisor’s eyes dart rapidly in every direction.

But before they can issue any orders, another change occurs.

Clunk-clunk.

Heavy, rumbling noises echo through the hangar.

Above the shimmering blue barrier, a large shadow slowly covers the hangar.

“What about the hatch?”

The hangar’s heavy metal hatch, used to physically open and close the area, is closing.

Disregarding the puzzled expressions of the officer and advisor, the hatch continues to descend, sealing the hangar completely.

“What’s happening?”

“Why…”

The soldiers grow anxious with each new development.

The officer watches this reaction and quietly mutters to the advisor.

“…Advisor, something’s not right. This feels like an attempt to trap us, doesn’t it?”

The advisor nods at the officer’s words after briefly pondering them.

After some consideration, the advisor intently looks at the officer and relays his thoughts once more mentally.

“…Yes, I understand. I’ll issue a warning to the troops.”

Responding in this way, the officer steps forward.

At that moment.

Wheeeeeng—

A small door leading to the interior of the ship opens. From within, a young girl steps out.

“Hmm, seems like quite the crowd gathered here today.”

Pale skin, old-fashioned speech, long golden hair flowing softly.

Her body is wrapped in a pitch-black military uniform, shining faintly as if embracing the night itself.

An enormous scythe, out of proportion with her petite frame.

The Academy Chancellor, Ryuje Erhaakenen, stands face-to-face with over a thousand alien soldiers.

“…Just a little livestock brat?”

“What’s she doing here?”

“Who brought her onto the ship?”

The soldiers mutter obscenities at her approach.

Most of them are bewildered, but one understands the situation perfectly.

The terrified face of the advisor.

“Mo, monster—”

“…Advisor?”

His voice breaks the unspoken taboo of speaking thoughts out loud—a forbidden rule in his species’ culture.

While his people boasted pride in their advanced psychic powers, he cursed them now.

Because, through these mental senses, he vividly perceived the immense power emanating from the small creature before him.

Had he been unaware of the true nature of that “creature,” he might not have been so terrified.

Death.

An inevitable, inescapable end.

Death had appeared, masked by that tiny frame.

“Go, attack her now!”

“Advisor?! This is our own ship—”

“Just do it!! Immediately!!”

Seemingly heeding the advisor’s frantic cry, the soldiers’ gun barrels point toward Ryuje.

“Good, that’s the way.”

Ryuje calmly watches this development.

Pulling the scythe toward her back, she grips its handle firmly with both hands.

“Blood Magic—”

Her low incantation causes the blade of the scythe to glow crimson, as if soaked in blood.

“Bloody Slash.”

A slash in the air.

A blood-red blade flies toward the soldiers.

“A—?”

The soldiers, unable to react, are instantly consumed by the attack.

Only colorful, sticky blood stains remain where the crimson slash passed through.

“Hiik?!”

“Fire! Shoot!!”

The sound of triggers being pulled.

Whiz-

Crraaack-

Dozens of crimson beams shoot toward Ryuje from the gun muzzles.

“Hit—”

“Hmph.”

Contrary to the soldiers’ hopes, Ryuje casually deflects the beams with a light swing of her scythe.

“Eh?”

“The beams were deflected?”

The soldiers murmur in confusion.

The sergeant nearby raises his voice.

“Don’t panic! Keep firing—”

“Right, you can’t stop attacking!”

And then Ryuje appears right in front of the sergeant.

“Haiiiiiiyekk—”

Swish—

Before the sergeant even finishes his sentence, the scythe flies toward him.

His body splits in two with an unpleasant squelching sound and collapses.

“Gahaaa!!”

Crraaack-

Crraack-

Beams fire wildly at Ryuje.

Ignoring the barrage that would make anyone flinch, Ryuje smoothly moves, slicing through the enemies.

Like a harbinger of death.

With every swing of her scythe, the crimson bloom of death unfurls.

“Run, run!!”

“Retreat, retreat!!”

“There’s no way out! The hangar door is sealed, where are we supposed to retreat to?!”

Amidst the chaos, the Imperial soldiers shout at each other.

Every now and then, an officer or non-commissioned officer raises his voice, but Ryuje appears each time to claim their lives.

“Damn it…!”

“This can’t be where we die!”

“Why does this have to happen to us?!”

When the soldiers, who had been so arrogant in oppressing the weak, faced a real threat to their lives, they revealed their ugliest traits.

At that moment, a loud clunking sound from the back of a shuttle brought them a flicker of hope.

“Hey, over there—”

“Is that a Tripod?”

Tripod.

As the nickname suggests, a walking weapon system with three legs and equipped with numerous armaments, one of the most famous war machines in the Empire.

Though its official name is the Omnidirectional Walking Tank, most soldiers affectionately refer to it by the nickname “Tripod.”

“We’re saved! We’re saved!”

“With the Tripod here—”

The extent to which Imperial soldiers trusted the Tripod becomes evident from their reactions.

However, the Tripod that rose from behind the shuttle only blinked and stared at the soldiers blankly.

“What is it, why’s it just standing there?”

“Hey! There’s the enemy! Go fight!!”

The soldiers shout louder.

But their hopes are not answered.

Wheeeeeng- Clang.

The Tripod’s weapons aim toward the soldiers.

“Wha—?”

Before the confused muttering has time to pass, the weapon they trusted most begins attacking them.

Crrraaaaack-!

“GYAAAAAHHH!!”

A soldier struck by the high-output beam turns into charred meat and collapses to the ground.

Geeeeeing- Clang!

“Kueeekk!!”

A soldier trampled underneath the tripod’s legs coughs up all kinds of things and splinters into pieces.

Poom-poom-poom—

“Guh!”

“Cr-aaaaaack!”

The hail of shells from the low-recoil cannon. Soldiers struck by it become perforated, losing large chunks of their bodies.

“Is the Tripod attacking us?”

“Shit, shit!!”

…

The Tripod running amok alongside Ryuje in the hangar.

Inside its cockpit are Edu and an alien.

“Good job, keep it up. Keep covering the Chancellor. You know what happens if you try something funny, right?”

Edu gives orders while watching Ryuje’s figure on the cockpit’s monitor.

“…I understand.”

Perhaps having a shotgun barrel pressed against his head, the alien is unusually obedient.

– Goddammit! Goddamnit! Goddamnit!!

– Grrraaaaahhhh!!

A few soldiers attempt to retaliate against the Tripod, but their weapons cannot even scratch it, let alone penetrate its barrier.

More soldiers die under its relentless counterattacks, melting and breaking apart.

One-sided carnage.

But there is nary a flicker of guilt or regret in Edu’s heart.

This is simply the extermination of invaders.

“Don’t damage the escort vessel too much, focus on eliminating the soldiers.”

“…Understood.”

Ryuje’s merciless strikes and the Tripod’s continuous firepower.

Over a thousand alien infantry are helplessly wiped out in the hangar of their own ship.

-Level up! Level 18 → Level 19.

-Level up! Level 19 → Level 20.

-Level up! Level 20 → Level 21.

-Level up! Level 21 → Level 22.

– Achievement unlocked: Stardust.

– Achievement unlocked: “Who, Us?”