Chapter 721: Some Eyes, Migrant of Fear

Now here's a question: what happens if you physically strip the cooling device off an electronic piece of equipment? You can find the hint right in front of us, courtesy of combus-bastard-kun currently demonstrating it.

"............"

"Hey, stop healing it."

"I mean, it just looks a bit too pitiful... you know, as the owner of the Holy Staff, I felt like I should probably roleplay as a saint."

Well, seeing it completely ignore us and writhe around at first, only for its movements to gradually grow sluggish as its body temperature continues to rise, does invoke a sense of guilt, but... that's that and this is this, you could say.

If this were the real world it'd be one thing, but humanity in the ShanFro world isn't the lord of creation; at the very least, there are plenty of opponents we can't beat even with our guns raised. Therefore, compassion is useless in a wild battle of survival... Well, just observing it burn to death from its own body heat is a bit unbearable.

"Let's put it out of its misery with one swift blow."

"Um, can bludgeoning something to death really be called putting it out of its misery?"

Can't be helped, skill-wise the only ones I have with the highest single-hit firepower are fist-strike type skills, and if I touch it bare-handed, I die. I can't use my bullets since they'll just melt, either.

"Become a cooler creature in your next life, Namusan!!"

A fist-strike type skill layered with buffs: 【Verethragna SmasherDivine Strike of Certain Victory】. It applies the calculated damage value twice upon a successful hit... meaning it's a dangerous punch that hits three times with the exact same amount of damage.

By combining this with the Parabellum Routine branch's The ForerunnerHarbinger of Certain Victory and the Critical Raise branch's Stratum Buster, a slightly dangerous bludgeoning-kill combo is completed.

...While averting my eyes from the fact that enemies requiring me to use such skills repeatedly will appear in the future, I watch Combus-kun shatter and scatter as its HP runs out, and gather up the dropped materials.

Including Saina and Ladder-shi, we're a party of six; there weren't that many dropped materials, but since we pulled off a part-break, the tail material dropped properly.

"...This is nice, a material that increases its hardness only while cooled. Ice-element weapons are rare, so if I combine this with ore cleverly, I might be able to make a sword whose performance increases when cooled... does it turn into a whip when heated? Ah no no, my brain is turning into pasta..."

Averting my eyes from the old-man avatar whose roleplay peeled off in five seconds, I turn my gaze back beyond the great river... towards the end of the wasteland.

"Oh, oh, it's a lively active volcano. Guess that's our destination."

Gray smoke mixed with the clouds above to form a dark overcast. Touching something I felt on my shoulder with my fingers, I realized it was sooty ash that had been smeared by hand.

"So that's our destination, huh~"

"Affirmative: That is precisely the Graveyard of Accumulated Dragons Volcanic Mountain, the place where the red dragons—who have thwarted every investigation attempt by numerous Conquista Dolls—are born, dwell, and ultimately perish..."

A place where red dragons are born and die, I see, sounds like it'll be worth conquering......... Hm?

"Rei-shi, the current Red Dragon is Dreadhowl, right?"

"Y-Yes."

"Cashew Nut-shi, that guy is already dead, right?"

"Thaaaat's right"

"Imron, does that mean right now that place is basically like a final dungeon with an absent Demon Lord?"

"Yeah."

...Hmm, isn't this going to be a total joke of a game?

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DwarfOre-Folk. If they follow the so-called theoryestablished tropes, or rather the templateclichés, they should be stout, stubby old men with thick beards, but...

"...Is that, one?"

"I-I wonder..."

It's a kid. Being a kid means they're short, so I can't tell if that's a Dwarf or something else.

Just in case, Ladder-shi mentioned that Dwarves are quite bizarre creatures whose arms from the elbow down are made of some kind of metal, but... I can't tell, the kid's skin is brown to begin with, so I don't know if the part from the elbow down is brown ore or just brown skin.

"Well, I guess we'll just have to ask."

"But they look absolutely on guard! If we talk to them clumsily, won't they just run away~?"

"Then let's talk to them before they can run."

"That makes sense~... Wait, does it?"

Ready, set, go.

"Wiiiiiieeeee geeeeeehtHow 's Ihhhhneeeendo you do!!"

"Kyaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!?"

Fools! The initial velocity is completely different!!

Accelerating with a skill, I close the 50-meter gap with the mysterious child in an instant and grab them by the scruff of their neck right before they can dive into some weird hole. Obviously, I didn't use Levin Trigger; that would cause damage.

"Nooooooo!! I don't wannaaaaaa!!!"

"Now, now, don't be so scared... Ah, a girl?"

Curse this androgynous character design making it impossible to tell. But what is confirmed is that this child's arms are indeed made of dark brown ore... meaning she's a Dwarf.

"Gyaaaaaaaahhhhh! Noooooooo!!!"

"No, wait, wait, why are you so scared..."

"AnswerAre you an idiot: I believe the head equipment is the cause."

The head equipment? What's so terrifying about it, it's just a mask......... Ah, right, when equipped, half the face turns into a burning lotus-seed-pod trypophobia nightmare.

"............"

"Hii... Hii........."

"Gaooo, I'm hungryyyy."

"Hiiiiiiiii!!!?"

"Stop it!"

"Ogooh!?"

Imron, you bastard... my HP... just dropped by twenty percent...

If I really wanted to, I could pull out one of the "Forty-Eight Hands of Monster Movements That Are Scary Even When You See Them Coming in Horror Games"—specifically, the "wildly swiveling neck and eyeballs"—to draw out an even bigger reaction... Ah, come to think of it, what would happen if I wildly swiveled my eyeballs while wearing this mask?

"............"

"Um, Tsuchinoko-san, could you please never do that again?"

"Eh?"

"No, seriously, I'm begging you."

"Ah, yes..."

Guess it's better if I don't.

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Author's Afterword

A mental image of a lotus-seed-pod trypophobia bird-masked woman whose face is half-on-fire charging in at blinding speeds, greeting you in German while grabbing your neck, casually confessing her hunger, and then starting to violently swivel all of her eyes in completely different directions.