Chapter 9: Sorry you’re looking so happy, but that’s just decoration.

A silhouette of a long-bodied creature with wings spread wide drifted through the northern sky. There was no mistaking it—it was that thing. The very symbol of a world of swords and magic. I didn’t know exactly how strong it was, but with soldiers still stationed throughout the fortress, this wasn’t the time to hold back.

"Erika! Drop the Crusader!"

"Please designate the target point."

"Right on top of that boar! Crush it!"

"Roger. Deploying AWCS-12 Crusader IV."

The moment Erika confirmed, a massive lump of iron plummeted from the sky. It struck the ground with a thunderous crash and a violent tremor, pinning the giant boar that was still struggling to rise despite having lost most of its head and belly. Electrical discharges from the plasma barrier protecting the machine from impact crackled outward, mixing with a spray of blood. The boar’s torso was torn clean apart, and what remained of its face slammed into the castle gate—this time, it finally went still.

From within the cloud of blood mist, an eight-meter-tall silver iron giant rose from a kneeling landing position. The camera eye embedded in its head flared to life, glowing as if responding to me. At the sight of it, the cat-eared maid Ririka let out a shocked cry.

"W-What the heck is that, nya!? The Crusader wasn’t some anime-style robot, nya! It was more like a box with legs, nya!"

"It’s an appearance-change mod. The original isn’t bad either, but this one looks cooler, right?"

In the original game, the bipedal tank known as the Crusader had a distinctly “foreign” design—an iron box supported by reverse-jointed bird legs, with clunky arms bolted onto the sides. I’d swapped it out using a mod that replaced the model with a CG design inspired by robots from other domestically produced games. It barely saw any use anyway, since the game focused primarily on space fleet battles and ground combat gear rarely took the spotlight. For the record, the performance was exactly the same as the original. That stylish, anime-like head was purely cosmetic, and the glowing eyes weren’t actual cameras—they just flashed for show. Still, the weapons mounted on its arms and back were on an entirely different level from anything a human could wield.

"Erika! Open the cockpit hatch!"

"Roger."

I jumped down from the castle wall toward the Crusader—only to realize the cockpit sat higher than I’d expected. With help from a pair of cat ears, I managed to get a foothold on its shoulder and carefully climbed inside. When the cockpit hatch sealed shut, the segmented, semi-spherical monitors in front of me lit up one after another, filling with visuals as audio input followed.

"W-What is that giant…? A g-golem…?"

The perverted princess knight muttered in confusion, and the surrounding soldiers recoiled in fear.

"Y-Yeah, nya! It’s a golem Ririka summoned, nya!"

"...It didn’t look like that to me… Then what was that girl who climbed inside…?"

"Th-That’s Ririka’s servant, nya! The power source that gives the golem life, nya! Basically like a sacrifice, nya! Now go, golem! Wipe out the rest of those monsters, nya!"

The cat-eared maid brushed it all off with complete nonsense. I decided to leave it alone for now.

As for the controls—I somehow had a handle on them. Whether it was because this body, Clarice’s body, already knew how, or thanks to the nanomachines inside me, I couldn’t say. Even though the keyboard, mouse, and gamepad had been replaced with dual control sticks and foot pedals, the operation felt close enough to the game that I could manage without issue.

"Alright, Erika! Let’s clean up the remaining small fry first!"

"Roger. However, Master, why did you board the unit? Crusader IV can operate without a pilot."

"..."

A giant robot had dropped right in front of me. Not getting in never even crossed my mind.

I lined up the orcs below in my sights and squeezed the trigger on the left control stick. The machine gun mounted on the Crusader’s left arm roared to life, shredding the orcs one after another and reducing them to mangled chunks of flesh. Most of the monsters had already been dealt with, and the survivors scattered in panic. I briefly wondered whether letting them escape meant they’d attack civilians elsewhere, but I couldn’t bring myself to shoot enemies in the back—and a far more dangerous foe was already closing in.

"Master. A massive flying organism has entered the effective range of the Crusader IV’s onboard weapons."

One segment of the monitor zoomed in, revealing the enemy. Enormous bat-like wings, a scaled body with a long tail, and a lizard-like head bristling with horns or spikes—something that looked straight out of South America or Africa. There was no doubt about it. A dragon, the staple of any sword-and-magic fantasy world. Its body length was around twelve or thirteen meters. For a fleeting moment, I wondered how anyone could possibly defeat something like that with nothing but flesh and blood.

"As long as it’s flying, it’s a pain. Knock it out of the sky with the Dragoon’s machine guns first."

"Roger."

As the dragon flew straight toward us, a hail of bullets rained down on it from even higher in the sky.

"Unbelievable. Tungsten 7.8mm rounds impacting the dorsal surface are being deflected. Estimated effectiveness is below 50 percent of projections."

"Can’t you bring it down?"

"The wings appear more fragile than the body’s scales. Objective can be achieved. However, the target’s armor strength exceeds that of the Crusader IV. Avoid close combat."

"Got it. Once it falls, I’ll snipe it with the plasma cannon."

I pressed the sub-weapon switch on the left control stick, and the plasma cannon mounted on the Crusader’s back rose up, deploying over its left shoulder.

"Abnormal particle vibrations detected around the target. Please be on alert."

"Magic!?"

I tensed instinctively—but the dragon raised its head, opened its mouth, and fired a fireball into what looked like empty sky.

No—there was something there.

The Dragoon.

That bastard noticed the Dragoon and attacked it.

The fireball struck the Dragoon transport head-on. For an instant, its stealth camouflage flickered, revealing a dark gray fuselage, before blending back into the sky.

"Erika! Are you okay!?"

"No need to worry, Master. My core is housed within Einferia’s mainframe. However, the Dragoon’s shield was reduced by 30 percent by that last attack. Repeated direct hits would be dangerous."

"Like I’d let that happen!"

The Dragoon’s counterattack forced the dragon to lose some altitude, but it remained airborne. I lined up the shot and fired the plasma cannon. The blazing bolt struck the dragon’s right wing, tearing it clean off. This time, the dragon truly lost its balance and plummeted to the ground.

"No way it’s still kicking after that, right?"

"Correct. Under normal conditions, a creature of that size would not survive a fall from such a height. However, the target is still alive, and aside from losing flight capability, there is no significant decline in motor function. I conclude that the evaluation standards for lifeforms on this planet must be revised."

"Do that later. If our attacks work, then all that’s left is to beat it until it dies!"

Parting the dust cloud thrown up by its fall, the dragon charged forward in a low, forward-leaning posture, lifting its forelegs as it ran. I couldn’t read its expression, but its eyes burned with blind rage. As it barreled straight toward us, I muttered, "Idiot," and fired two plasma shots.

In fantasy worlds, dragons that speak and possess intelligence are common enough, but this one clearly wasn’t that type. It moved purely on animal instinct. The fact that its flame breath counted as magic was surprising, but even that seemed instinctive.

The dragon took the twin plasma blasts head-on. Parts of its face and most of its right foreleg melted away. It staggered—yet still continued advancing.

"Plasma cannon overheated. Initiating rapid cooling. Thirty seconds until reuse."

"Erika! Rocket salvo!"

"Roger. Missile barrage, firing."

As I used the machine gun to keep it at bay and force some distance, the rocket launcher rose from the Crusader’s right shoulder. Twelve rockets fired in rapid succession, engulfing the dragon in roaring explosions.

"Abnormal particle vibrations detected in the surrounding area. Another flame-based attack is incoming."

Before I could react to the warning, part of the inferno surrounding the dragon swelled outward, forming a fireball that slammed directly into the Crusader.

"Shield durability reduced by 50 percent. Obstacle detected to the rear. Further retreat is impossible. Please evade."

The obstacle behind us was the fortress itself. There was nowhere to retreat, nowhere to sidestep.

I lowered the Crusader’s stance and met the dragon head-on as it charged through the flames. The collision shook the cockpit violently.

"Shield lost! This is dangerous! Please eject immediately!"

Erika was practically screaming, but as I stared at the dragon flickering on the monitor from the impact, I knew.

I can do this.

It was already in ruins. Its body was scorched and blistered, its right arm and wing gone, half its face melted away. All that remained was the finishing blow.

"Activate the plasma blade!"

"Master!!"

"The plasma blade!!"

As I shouted, Erika seemed to resign herself. A steel blade extended from the Crusader’s right arm, and a radiant white plasma edge flared to life around it. The dragon twisted its half-burned face into a grin and swung its remaining left foreleg, slamming its claws into the Crusader’s head and slicing it clean off.

Sorry you look so happy—but that’s just decoration.

I drove the glowing blade into the dragon’s chest. It slid in with barely any resistance, carving straight upward and splitting the creature clean in two all the way to its head.

As the dragon’s upper body collapsed into two lifeless halves and crashed to the ground, cheers erupted from the fortress behind us.