6

A week since I put on the new gear. Finally, the machine I’m happy with is done.

Right, hooking up a brand-new physical calculator—what they call a senseboard—to an existing one was a proper headache.

Move one thing, and another spot goes haywire. By now, it was common for some other joint to start working on its own. Once, I nearly threw up just watching the monitor while my neck spun round and round.

We’d squash each bug one by one, slowly getting it to run, checking bit by bit to make sure nothing was off.

Three days of that, and once the trouble died down, we moved on to the next step.

It’s an improvement in handling.

My left arm’s become a full-blown armory. The lever for my left arm in the cockpit’s probably just clutter now.

If that’s the case, I should’ve just designed a cockpit tailored to my piloting style—added some extra functions right there.

With that in mind, I talked it over with all the mechanics, and we started tinkering with the cockpit too.

First off, ditching the useless left-arm lever. But then—no movement at all? That’d be a problem when purging gear.

So we hooked the left-arm circuit to the right-arm lever, and now one button switches control between arms. Easy.

We moved the most-used buttons from the old overhead panel down to where the left lever used to be—stuff I reach for all the time, so I don’t have to keep my hands raised.

And I added three new monitors.

Before, I’d just switch the bottom three of the twenty-four front monitors to check the body status—but that meant I’d always be missing what was under my feet.

So I mounted three smaller monitors directly onto the pilot’s seat, arranged so they’d sit level with my thighs when I was seated.

Thanks to that, I could use all twenty-four front hemisphere monitors without waste.

Two days after those changes. Another two days fixing the new wave of bugs that spilled out.

A full week in total.

When everything was done, the mechanics’ energy was off the charts. Well, I felt the same—kept celebrating in the hangar until the castle guards started complaining. It was full-on festival, that’s all.

And honestly, the biggest hero of this whole upgrade has to be Miss Carine.

Worked through the night, eyes shadowed from the storm of bugs spilling out everywhere. This year’s bonus’s going straight from my own pocket—Carine’s the real hero behind all this. Without her, my machine wouldn’t be finished right now.

And today, it’s the morning after the chaos. Here at the Armunale test field, set up at the base, I power up the machine.

“Generator output eighty-five percent, concentrated mana fluid (Hyimagia Liquid) supply system nominal, hydraulic gauges all within range, no neural connection issues, physical processor (Sense Board) link solid. System all green!”

Right—everything’s running smooth on paper. Now, time for the real test. You even rearranged your schedule just for today. Don’t worry, I’ll make the most of it, Remi.

Right in front of me, as I powered up, was another Armunale.

It was the unit belonging to Lieutenant Rémy Richard, commander of the Third Prince’s guard detachment.

Its armor was based on the standard Guard Knight model. But the shoulder plates were bulging unnaturally large, and a deployable blade was mounted on its arm.

That’s probably one of those types that unfolds without needing to be gripped.

Sure, it limits your attack options—but keeping your hand free while still wielding a weapon? That’s a solid advantage. With that, you could swing a sword and hold a gun at the same time, or lock onto magic targets.

“How’s it look? Think you can handle it?”

“Yes, no problem. Please go ahead.”

“Alright then—let’s start. The royals are watching. Don’t go making a fool of yourself.”

Yeah, the viewing stand set up in the testing arena was packed with the Third Prince and the Second Princess, come to watch the match.

Princess Ines is probably just killing time—but what about the Third Prince? He’s said to want a civil service post, and doesn’t seem all that interested in this sort of thing…

Ah well. I’ve just got to give it my all until my machine’s maxed out.

“Let’s show them what we’re made of!”

Remy’s machine unfolds its blade as expected.

I activate the new gear, Artifigoj, and draw my sword in one motion.

“That’s the new gear?!”

“Yep. Pretty handy, isn’t it?”

Dodging the slashes flaring from both arms, I think about how to press forward.

No surprise—being the Third Prince’s guard, he’s got real skill. Just a few clashes, and I can tell his swordsmanship’s leagues above frontline soldiers. That’s why he can manage with those clunky, fixed blades—no need to worry about mobility.

I backstep to create distance, then immediately throw my sword straight at the opponent.

The Remi unit’s bound to fire back, but by then my machine’ll already be drawing another weapon from the Artifigouge.

Bang-bang-bang—explosions of powder crack through the air, and bullets shoot out from the harmonica pistol.

Six paint rounds, fired in quick succession—some dodged, but two still splattered red across the armor on leg and arm.

But that’s it—harmonica pistol’s empty. Doesn’t matter.

I toss the spent harmonica pistol aside, then reequip my sword.

“Nice to not have to worry about ammo!”

“Crazy, man. But fun!”

The paint hits, sure—but since it’s just on the armor, no real harm done. The match continues.

Closing in, I push my machine forward to meet the opponent.

I’ll admit—my swordsmanship’s no match for his. But—

“I’m not losing on control!”

“That’s a line for after you win!”

“Then I’ll win!”

“Backs up, you little brat!”

We clash again, a few times, and before I know it, my blade’s reduced to scrap.

But that’s exactly what I wanted.

Spinning the machine, I swing the sword straight down at his feet.

He dodges back—my blade smashes into the ground and shatters. In that split second, the Remi unit sees its chance. The blade swings down, aimed straight at my exposed upper body.

Any onlooker would’ve called it over by now.

But that’s precisely where I was aiming.

I spin the machine further. What’s ahead? The massive iron block mounted on my left arm.

Remy must’ve caught on to my aim. Cut the downward swing short and leapt back—just in time.

A second later, *bwonk*—the sound of air splitting—and the Artifigoj passed right through where Remy’s machine had been.

“Ah, close.”

“Too close! If it’d hit, your side armor’d’ve been cracked wide open!”

“I was aiming, though.”

My aim wasn’t ever for the legs.

I’d deliberately snapped the blade, used the split second of distraction to hurl my left arm straight at Remy—targeting the gap.

My left arm’s a steel column, taller than half the Armunale. Heavy. Really heavy. Add in the spin, and even the Armunale’s armor wouldn’t take it lightly. Only this arm could do something like this. Barely dodged it.

“Now *that’s* what I’m talkin’ about. Well, alright—guess it’s time I brought the full strength to bear!”

“The secret of your shoulder?”

“What’s that, you know about it?”

“No, not really—except that part’s pretty different from normal. If there’s anything, it’s gotta be the shoulder, right?”

Guess my hunch was spot on.

“Yeah, this here’s my own special gear. Take a load of the Grondia Army!”

With a *gush* of air, the shoulder armor on the Remy unit slightly parted.

And then, the arm started stretching out slowly.

“Stretchy arm?”

“Yeah, got a time limit, but this thing’s a beast.”

Sounds like a Dragon Arm, I guess. Only the part from the forearm up to the shoulder’s connected by something like a rope—doesn’t look like it can move freely at all.

But it’s not just some whip, is it?

“Let’s go.”

The Remy unit swings its arm wide. The rope-like segment suddenly jerks, as if it’s gained a will of its own, lifting the blade tip high.

And it lunges at my machine like it’s found its prey.

I jerk my arm up, slashing it with the sword—knocking it clean off—then duck under the other one.

But before I can blink, the severed arm twists, palm facing me, and spits out a fireball.

I jam my sword into the blast and force it to explode, then leap sideways to dodge the arm coming at me from behind.

“Huh. So it’s magic-guided. Another one of those fancy gadgets.”

What kind of physics engine—senseboard—would even let someone build a dragon arm with auto-tracking?

“Damn, that’s some next-level stuff. This one’s Fold’s invention, see? No way anyone else could copy it, not with their lame senseboards.”

Isn’t Fold a third prince! Wait—what? Third prince can handle physics calculators—senseboard writers! I thought he was aiming for a civil service career, so I figured he was smart, but wow—so that’s why he’s here today!

“Yeah, it’s impressive, sure. But not all rainbows and lollipops, right? It’s gotta burn through a ton of fuel.”

“Yeah, that’s why there’s a time limit.”

You’ll be controlling both arms with magic the whole time. That’ll eat up a serious amount of concentrated mana fluid—Hyimagia Liquid.

So this fight—

“If I don’t get taken out before time runs out, I win.”

“Fine. If you think you can take it, go ahead and try!”

With that settled, let’s get straight to the counterattack.

Dragon arm’s a real breakthrough here, sure—but back in my old world, folks had already thought of stuff like this. Seen plenty of enemies stretching out their arms in anime, you know?

I switch my weapon from sword to gun, aiming straight at the bare, vulnerable body of the Remi unit.

Rule one: target the core.

Of course, one arm flies right into the bullet’s path and blows it apart with a fireball.

Then rule two: aim for the connection point.

That thing’s got a rope-like arm tucked into its shoulder so it can stretch out. But the longer the reach, the longer the rope—so if I cut it, the arm’ll go limp, right?

I switch back to sword mid-dodge and swing down hard at the rope.

But the rope itself jerks out of the way, dodging the blade with a twitch.

Not just moving the tip of the arm—she’s controlling the whole rope, that’s why she can pull off tricks like that.

Then that’s the third one.

I dart around the practice yard, dodging or deflecting the incoming attacks in succession.

The reach of the arms grows longer, and with each deflection, I force their direction to shift by sheer will.

Moving in a circle, I keep the rope from being reeled in, then send the arm I’ve just struck flying toward the spot I’ve aimed for.

“How’s that?”

“Oh?”

I’d thought I was just running around aimlessly, but suddenly, both arms froze—Remy’s voice rose with a strange note.

“Fufu, quite the clever binding you’ve got there. Won’t come undone easily.”

“Seriously?!”

Yeah—that’s the third trick. Entangling the extended arms with each other.

Twisting in a circle, I kept his arms from pulling back while forming a big loop with the rope. Then I shoved the sword-tossed arm right into it, cinching it tight with a solid knot.

Remi’s frantically trying to untangle his arms, but once that rope’s squeezed shut, it won’t come loose easy. Well, even if he did manage it, I’d just tie him up again—no problem.

“Now then… still want to fight?”

“Gngh…”

“That’s enough. Remi, surrender.”

The voice came from the spectator area—second prince, stepping in where Remi still wouldn’t let go.

“Understood. I surrender.”

“Thank you.”

First match, first win. Yep—solid start.

After the match, Leon and I climbed down from the machine, as requested by the third prince, and made our way to the viewing stand.

The third prince—fine, soft hair, glasses, instantly looked like a bookish sort.

Would’ve looked right in a university cap.

“Lord Ford, I apologize. I must’ve made quite the sight.”

“No, today’s match taught both of us something. Just swinging blindly won’t unlock Grondia Army’s true strength. From now on, we’ll push forward with research—operation included.”

“Yes.”

Seems like that system ran on nothing but physical calculators—senseboards, I suppose. Well, that explains the dull movements we saw today.

“Eld, was it?”

“Yes.”

“Good fight. Your machine’s coming along nicely, too.”

“Yes, no issues today. It’s ready for real combat at any time.”

“Is that so? Then head to the Commander’s quarters later. Your first assignment as Second Princess’s guard unit. Good luck.”

“Hai.”

Lord Folde said that, and with a wave, took Remi and left the viewing area.

I turned to the remaining Princess Ines.

“So this is my first mission… is it part of your official duties, Princess?”

“Yes, indeed. It was supposed to be either me or my brother, depending on how the unit was coming along—but since everything’s fine, it’ll be mine. The Commander’ll explain the details, but in short, it’s morale-boosting for the troops at the front-line base. Getting the already-fired-up soldiers even more fired up. Oh, what a wicked job, isn’t it?”

That wording’s off! But I’m too tired to care right now.

“Ah… I see.”

The job the Second Princess mentioned—I’d heard about it back when I was at the Academy.

Every year, before the real winter sets in, a member of the royal family visits the front-line bases, giving speeches to boost the troops’ spirits.

Which royal goes each year isn’t set in stone—whichever one has the time heads out with a mountain of food, touring the bases. Rumor has it the soldiers look forward to it, since they get to eat meals made from the ingredients the royals bring.

So this year, it’s the Second Princess’s turn.

Perfect, maybe. One of the front-line bases is Jakarta. Just the right time to go collect the weapons I left in the hands of the deputy commander.

“Understood. I’ll head straight to the Grand Commander after this to hear the details.”

“Yeah, good luck with that.”

The Second Princess said that, then led her maids back toward the castle.

So finally the squad gathered around me. Still, being near royalty makes them tense, I guess. Me too, I’ll admit—when Lord Folde’s around, I get a little on edge. But with Lady Ines? No way I could be tense. Not after what she’s done to me...

No good. I’m starting to catch her way of thinking. Gotta hold onto myself better.

“How’s the unit? Nothing wrong, I hear.”

“How about handling? No weird movements, right?”

“Yes, sir. The machine’s flawless, and so is the control. No odd behavior at all.”

“Good. Then all that’s left is maintenance and resupply.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll take care of it.”

That’s about it for now. Though I’ve already placed extra orders with the craftsmen. Extra tanks of concentrated mana fluid—Hyimagia Liquid.

If it’s built into the Artificogius, my unit’s operational time should double—maybe even more. Should arrive within the week, too. I’ll have it ready in time for my first official duty. Then we’ll see what you can do.

“Alright, I’ll stow the unit back in the hangar. After that, it’s in your hands.”

“Keep it in good shape.”

I climbed into the cockpit on my way back to the castle, making sure to return the machine to its storage bay.