Battle to Ship Off the Yamata no Orochi (5)
It had been quite some time since the battle to harvest the Yamata no Orochi began.
At this point, there was really nothing left to do—mainly because the creature had stopped regenerating almost entirely.
“Hey, give us that head.”
“Why the hell are you holed up in there? The princess wants your head! Hurry up and regrow it!”
“Have you got no pride as a monster? Do something useful for humanity, damn it!”
“Let’s play soccer—you’re the ball!”
The knights were kicking and punching the Yamata no Orochi mercilessly.
I wondered why it wasn’t regenerating. There wasn’t even a hint of resistance anymore. Like this, we could only harvest blood, scales, and meat—we couldn’t get the most valuable part, the head… specifically, the eyes.
We were still getting meat since Takuto regularly butchered parts of the Orochi, but even that regeneration had slowed. Its body was a wreck. Still, since it was technically alive, the meat wasn’t rotting, so that was fine. Its size made it easy enough to carve from different sections anyway.
“Big Brother, what should we do with this?”
“Should we just keep harvesting it?”
“I don’t mind, but once the seal breaks, it’ll probably go wild.”
“Yeah… that’s pretty much guaranteed.”
Even the Land of Tranquility’s representatives were hesitant to keep using it for resources. Still, plenty of people argued it would be worth selling the harvested materials to Arland.
The problem, though, was that the sealing magic keeping it still was also temporary. Eventually, the seal would break.
This one-sided “battle” had gone that way because, right after we broke the first seal, we immediately applied a second one and overwhelmed it with superior force.
If we left it alone now, things would go back to how they were before—and the Land of Tranquility clearly didn’t want that. Their proposal was quietly withdrawn.
Three more days passed.
“We’ve got the core.”
“Takuto, once you take that, its body will die—ah, too late.”
When Takuto extracted the Yamata no Orochi’s core, it looked dead… except it wasn’t.
My analysis spell confirmed it—the creature was still alive, even as just a core.
And this core was a real problem. Normally, monsters have a magic gem, but this was made of some unknown substance. Even my analysis couldn’t identify what it was composed of.
Hey, ancient Magical Dynasty—what the hell did you use? Making something out of mystery material like this is cheating! Teach me how to do it!
“Hrnnnngh!”
I handed a pickaxe to one of the knights and had him take a swing at it, but the core didn’t so much as crack. Even Takuto’s Spirit Sword couldn’t scratch it.
Yep. A real pain in the neck.
“If we leave it alone, it’ll probably revive eventually. But sealing it again would be costly and risky. What do we do?”
Leaving it here would be a mistake. Maybe we could dump it in the Granzur Empire and just make sure it never wandered back toward Arland or our allies… though, if that went wrong, it’d be a huge problem.
“The Empire’s hidden powers might be able to destroy it.”
“Yeah, and if they had any power left, they’d have used it already.”
“But Brother, isn’t it strange how weak the Empire seems for the largest nation on the continent? Maybe they’re hiding their strength for a counterattack.”
No doubt the Empire was keeping some power in reserve. Which meant we should hit them regularly until they snapped and revealed it. If we kept punching, they’d eventually break and show their hand.
Yeah—let’s dump it in the Empire.
“I wouldn’t do that.”
Takuto’s sudden objection caught me off guard.
“Why not?”
“It’s connected to something. I think there’s still a control device somewhere.”
“Ugh…”
When I checked more carefully, sure enough—there was some kind of active link. That meant a control mechanism still existed.
“I can’t believe the Empire still has a hidden system like that. We can’t let this stay in their reach. We’ll have to hide it somewhere they can’t touch it. Since we can’t destroy it…”
“Not even with your full power?”
“If it were the Spirit King, sure—it’d be gone in one hit. But I don’t have that kind of strength.”
The thing looked like a boulder larger than my torso, but its hardness rivaled that of a Star Core. Normally, even diamond could be shattered with enough force—but this thing couldn’t.
Trust Takuto to spot that. If we sent this to the Empire, it’d only make them stronger.
Still, with the Black Knight and White Knight almost finished, this wasn’t exactly a threat. Once those two mobile magi-armors were complete, monsters like this wouldn’t even matter. But we weren’t about to strengthen the enemy’s hand.
Time to put my full brainpower to work. I could feel motivation surging!
“First, I think the best option is to use dimensional transfer and dump it in another world.
The downside is… my dimensional transfer spell doesn’t let me choose where I land—it’s incomplete and inefficient. If it fails, the backlash could either kill me or turn a fifty-kilometer radius into a barren wasteland where nothing can live. Naturally, everything within range dies.”
““““Rejected!!””””
Everyone shouted in unison.
“You’re telling me that spell’s that dangerous?!”
“And you tried using it in the Imperial War?!”
“That was just good luck.”
Yeah, I barely survived half-dead because the spell hadn’t been fully formed yet. Otherwise, I would’ve wiped out the entire Arland army on the battlefield. Honestly, the success rate of that spell is abysmal—but hey, I cobbled it together in a hurry, so what can you do?
It’s not like inter-world travel is easy. My version of dimensional transfer just forces open a hole in space by brute force.
And it doesn’t even let me choose the destination. Normally, you’d need to observe the target world first—but my spell doesn’t have that function. So unless you get absurdly lucky, you might appear underwater—or worse, in space. Completely not worth the risk.
“So we seal it until we find a way to destroy it? Though honestly, it was probably sealed in the first place because no one could destroy it.”
Yeah, eternal seals don’t really happen. The Magical Dynasty must’ve known their weapon would eventually be unsealed, yet they still buried it. And being an unstable, warlike nation like the Granzur Empire, they were constantly plagued by internal strife and independence movements. It’s no wonder they collapsed so easily.
Given that chaos, it’s likely the creators themselves didn’t have a way to destroy it. Seriously, couldn’t they at least plan for disposal? All my weapons come with self-destruct systems.
By the way, my brother’s sword has a curse—anyone else who tries to use it turns into an afro-haired fool who dances nonstop until they die. And if you try to remove the curse, it triggers an instant-death spell.
“I don’t want to saddle our kingdom with a future grudge. But leaving it in the Land of Tranquility won’t change anything either. Maybe we should do something that earns goodwill. How about dumping it in the deep sea?”
“Unfortunately, the Yamata no Orochi can move in the deep sea—and even in space. Slowly, but still.”
“So it’d eventually come back… wait. Space—ah!”
A terrible premonition hit me. I turned and started walking away. I wasn’t sticking around for this. I was going back to my treasure room for a nap.
But then, a hand landed on my shoulder. I turned, creaking like rusted metal, to see my brother grinning wickedly.
“… Let me go.”
“Come to think of it, didn’t you build something called a rocket?”
“I’m making it to launch artificial satellites and weapons into space…”
“And it’s about ready to launch, right?”
“… Yeah. In about a month.”
No… no way… he wouldn’t—
“You said before that the sun’s burning, right?”
“Y-yeah, that’s true, but—”
Stop! Don’t say it!
“If we load the Yamata no Orochi’s core onto your rocket and fire it into the sun, it’ll never bother us again.”
“M-my rocket can’t reach the sun!”
That was true—but before I could even argue, a smug copy of me appeared out of nowhere.
“Heh! I prepared for just such an occasion by building a mana absorption device. We can forcibly drain the Orochi’s internal mana and use it as extra fuel for the rocket. With that, reaching the sun is completely possible! The rocket will even reinforce itself using that energy, guaranteeing it survives the trip until impact!”
“I never told you to build that!!”
Why would you even make such a thing?!
“I made it to launch your main body into the sun while you were sleeping.”
Apparently, my clone had made it to kill me. I knew I couldn’t trust those things. No amount of pitiful (´・ω・｀) faces would change that.
“Then it’s settled. We’ll dispose of it in the sun.”
“No! If we load that, there won’t be room for the ‘Lunch Is Sandwiches’ satellite! Only Kazuhito will fit!”
“Kazuhito…”
Takuto gave me a look somewhere between concern and disbelief.
“Kazuhito’s going up for the atmospheric reentry test. He’ll wear the Black Knight and launch with the satellite.”
If that works, we’ll have him test the White Knight’s reentry next. With both complete, the twin magi-armors will be finished.
“By the way, that satellite’s name is weird.”
“Takuto… even I make mistakes sometimes.”
“That one was definitely your fault.”
Hey, I had planned to give it a cool name—something like Mi-Go or Nyamurathotep.
It all started when I was in my office doing paperwork.
I’d been craving sandwiches for lunch, but Alicia wasn’t around. So I wrote a note requesting sandwiches on the nearest sheet of paper and handed it to whoever was passing by.
Turned out the sheet was actually the naming form for the artificial satellite. The person I gave it to was from the Research and Development Bureau.
And so, the note’s contents were submitted as the official name instead of going to the kitchen.
“Apparently, no one questioned it.”
“Considering how few of your inventions have names that match what they do, I’m not surprised.”
Yeah, Arland’s people don’t really care about space development. I fund all of it myself, so no one interferes. The satellites are all personal property too.
So no one objected, and the name stuck.
“Strange world, huh?”
“If you’d just take naming seriously, none of this would happen.”
“Brother, I make so many things that I run out of ideas! Everything in my Treasury has random names. My new assault rifle’s called ‘Prototype Tanaka’, for example.”
Honestly, it’s a waste of time trying to come up with better ones. My water purifier’s called Purification Device No. 1—and No. 2 turned out to be an ordinary passenger-type magic car.
Not that it matters. I don’t even have an inventory list anymore. The prototypes pile up like garbage, and sometimes they explode.
“You really should tidy up.”
“No.”
“(´・ω・｀)”
“(´・ω・｀)”
After that, Big Brother stretched my cheeks until I nearly cried.
What do you think about this chapter?
