Chapter 117: The Fist Slave Emperor Dyson
From the balcony of the imperial castle, which projected over the square, we heard an announcement directed at the masses. We had taken cover in the square ourselves.
The Fist Slave Emperor Army soldiers were assembled in front of the imperial castle, maintaining a strict defensive posture. Given the situation, we believed that a surprise attack from behind the castle might be feasible. However, Herman said he had a bad feeling so we decided to wait until after Emperor Dyson’s speech had begun before proceeding.
「Herman, what’s this bad feeling you have? Is it possible that our rescue mission has been compromised, and this proclamation by the Fist Slave Emperor is a trap?」
「No, it’s not quite like that. It’s more of a knight’s intuition.」
Hmm, well, I can’t entirely dismiss his concerns.
We had infiltrated the capital city, and the next day, an announcement conveniently called for a gathering in the square. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to suspect an unexpected twist of events.
「Very well, let’s trust Herman’s intuition. Perhaps it’s this cautiousness that has kept you alive this long.」
「I appreciate your understanding.」
Assuming nothing unexpected occurred, we would have ample time to execute our plan.
In the square, high-ranking Fist Slave Emperor Army officers, adorned with mohawk helmets, led the crowd in chanting, 「Dyson! Dyson!」. It seemed they were following the tradition from Dyson’s days as a star gladiator.
Soon, the chant spread among the masses.
「Dyson! Dyson!」
Oracle-chan was enthusiastically joining in, which surprised me. But upon reflection, it would be odd if we don’t participate.
I raised my fist and joined in the spirited Dyson chant.
And then, as if anticipating the rising excitement, a massive, half-naked man appeared. He wrapped his muscular form in a shell-purple mantle—the emblem of the emperor.
Emperor Dyson, with a flip of his mantle, stepped onto the balcony. The crowd in the square heated up, as if a gladiatorial match were about to begin.
「Oh, this can’t be.」
「What’s wrong, Herman?」
「Standing next to the Fist Slave Emperor is Imperial Princess Elizabeth, the emperor’s granddaughter. With her there, any rescue attempt is futile.」
Next, to the colossal figure reminiscent of a moon bear, stands a delicate young girl.
Princess Elizabeth, the emperor’s granddaughter, is merely eight years old. Her small frame, adorned with a bluish tinge, supports golden tiaras atop her blonde hair. Despite the opulent white dress adorned with intricate patterns, her appearance remains strikingly childlike.
Through my binoculars, I can discern the pallor of her young face, the tension etched into her features. It’s not the expression of an ordinary child, she seems to be suppressing tears and bearing immense sorrow. Upon closer inspection, I notice a heavily armored infantrymen with spears standing behind her—forcing her to comply.
While I understand that using royal and noble bloodlines as political pawns is commonplace, witnessing this solitary eight-year-old surrounded by enemy adults, exposed and vulnerable, leaves me feeling profoundly disturbed.
「Herman’s intuition was spot-on. Our caution has paid off.」
Had we recklessly stormed the imperial castle, we might have rescued the elderly emperor but not the imperial granddaughter.
We only have one chance, if we fail once, security measures will tighten.
The elderly emperor owes us a debt for the ‘Orichalcum Armor’ and I had initially considered aiding him. However, seeing the child’s strained expression—surrounded by soldiers—I feel compelled to rescue Imperial Princess Elizabeth as well.
Well, even with heightened security, rescuing a single child should be feasible. But my ultimate goal is her safe return.
I address Herman, who has been communicating our change of plans to the Resistance members.
「Herman, you should withdraw too. I’ll attempt to assassinate Emperor Dyson alone.」
「He……….no, Gunner-sama, even if it’s you….」
If we can defeat the fist slave emperor, it will disrupt the chain of command and facilitate an easier rescue.
But honestly, my resolve stems from witnessing Dyson’s actions firsthand—I find them unforgivable.
「Perhaps you think it’s impossible. However, it’s worth a try. I’ll attempt a long-range sniper shot, if it fails, I’ll retreat.」
「Please be cautious. While dealing with ordinary soldiers might be manageable, facing Emperor Dyson directly could be perilous, even for someone of your caliber.」
Herman’s straightforwardness surprises me, but he’s not one to mince words. His concern for my safety is genuine, and I nod in acknowledgment.
-0-
Even after the Resistance withdrew, I searched for a position from which I could snipe from a distance.
I decided to pay for access to a building across the square. Curious onlookers have apparently climbed up there to witness Emperor Dyson’s speech, so I blend in and ascend to the rooftop.
「Now then.」
Gradually, the audience falls silent, and Emperor Dyson’s speech continues.
Despite his monstrous physique and imposing face, his voice is surprisingly pleasant and clear.
Yet, as I peer through the scope, observing the wrathful expression on his face, I sense a chilling ruthlessness beneath that calm voice.
Clearly, he’s in a cheat class. In a way, my exposure to various formidable individuals in this world has made me accustomed to recognizing such strength.
「…The Three Eastern Kingdoms have sent friendly envoys to negotiate a ceasefire with our forces—the Roland Kingdom and the Britannian Union. The Empire’s nobles, foolishly resisting, are mere pawns. They’ve been effortlessly pushed back by our fists. Now, nothing stands in the way of our New Germania Empire’s dominance…」
I attach a scope to my long-range weapon. The lack of proper grouping adjustments worries me, but I’ll have several chances to fire.
Even if my first shot misses, I can adjust while shooting.
Moreover, the precision of my magic rifle, combining bow magic, surpasses that of rifles from my original world. Its resistance to wind interference makes it ideal for sniping.
「The rest is up to my skill.」
When I look at Fist Slave Emperor Dyson through the scope, even from this distance, I can tell he’s massive. Having a large target is advantageous.
Dyson is a monstrous figure, towering over two meters and fifty centimeters. He’s even more massive than Herman, the largest man I’ve ever seen. Surely, he must be incredibly strong.
What surprises me most about Dyson is the size of his neck muscles.
While I can understand his massive limbs and overall monstrous build, I wonder what kind of training it took to develop those thick neck muscles.
It’s as if he’s compensating for human physical weaknesses with those well-trained muscles.
「Moreover, he’s the emperor, yet he’s shirtless, wearing training pants. Who thought that was a good idea?」
The cheering crowds and soldiers below probably appreciate it. After all, he calls himself Fist Slave Emperor, so appealing to the commoners makes sense.
Sporting a bare torso and training pants, he balances a rugged, sun-shaped crown—the emblem of the Germania Emperor—on his neatly cropped, dull chestnut hair. His purple mantle adds to the audacious attire.
And yet, it suits him. It’s as if he’s a rock carved by the wind and rain.
「Despite that, the old Imperial Army, beaten like the weak dog they are by the Silesie Kingdom, has been swept aside. Our mighty New Germania Army will bring a new order to the Eura continent. At that moment, the people of Germania will regain their lost confidence and pride, shining in the glory of victory!」
Listening to Dyson’s speech, I mutter to myself.
「Well, the Imperial Army was no pushover.」
We barely managed to win, thanks to Lyle-sensei’s cunning strategies.
What can a mere upstart who seized the capital in Freed’s absence say?
「I, who have received the abdication from the late Emperor Conrad, am now set to marry Imperial Princess Elizabeth, Conrad’s granddaughter. With this, I become the legitimate heir of the Germania Empire.」
The idea of an eight-year-old girl marrying someone like Emperor Dyson is quite absurd. How can such a massive man be wed to such a tiny girl?
Although it’s a cruel notion, I can’t fathom why the cheering crowd supports it.
Well, even if they call it a marriage, I doubt they’ll actually go through with it. It’s likely just a temporary measure to legitimize his rule.
「Don’t look over here…」
Even through the scope of my magical rifle, Dyson’s fierce, carnivorous eyes seem to lock onto me. It’s as if he’s speaking directly to me, his clenched fist aimed my way.
I want to shoot him already, but there’s no opening.
No, openings don’t matter. This is a long-range shot—I just need to avoid hitting the princess and aim for his head.
I shake off my bad feelings and pull the trigger, shouting with determination.
「Dyson, may you die dreaming of a slave becoming emperor!」
The bullet flies straight toward Dyson’s massive face, but unbelievably, his hand, clad in orichalcum gauntlets, deflects it.
Are you telling me he sensed the attack from this distance?
It must have been a lucky coincidence.
I fire another round, but the bullet that should have struck his head is deftly dodged.
Not yet. I fire six more times, this time with more moderate aim, but each shot is deflected by his Orichalcum Gauntlets. This goes beyond mere coincidence.
Damn, I’m out of bullets……
As I try to reload, Dyson’s voice echoes toward me.
「Those who oppose us, feel free to try and kill me! As the strongest, I shall rule the Germania Empire. I, the world’s strongest, will neither flee nor hide!」
The crowd erupts in cheers. Like Freed, he claims to be the world’s strongest. Are all Germania emperors like this?
Yet, my sniper shot ultimately only served to invigorate Dyson’s speech.
Perhaps he realized he was targeted from afar due to his triumphant roar. Finally, the guards move into action, heading my way.
「Time’s up. Mission failed…」
Snipers are vulnerable once their position is compromised. Further pursuit would be perilous.
I leap from the building’s rooftop, escaping the scene.
As I flee, I ponder my miscalculation regarding the martial artist’s cheat-like abilities. Take, for instance, the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba. Legend has it that he faced six gunmen, their simultaneous shots aimed at him. Yet, he deftly beat one of the shooters down and escaped the encirclement.
According to Ueshiba, 「Avoid the path of light, and the bullets will follow that path a split second later.」.
It’s akin to being a Newtype—a heightened sensory world. Having experienced altered time perception during intense battles, I can relate.
Cheat-level martial artists who sense the assassin’s intent and deflect magic rifle attacks do exist.
If that’s the case, it’s no wonder my magic rifle shots were ineffective.
Though it’s a failure, it wasn’t in vain.
Understanding the opponent’s capabilities before a full-blown battle holds significance. If straightforward sniping won’t work, I’ll mix in other attacks.
「Watch closely, Dyson. Next time, I’ll make you stop breathing.」
Cloaked in a discreet black robe, I slip through the back alleys, evading pursuit.
Now, if I seek refuge in the New Cult Church, where I’m outwardly aligned with the coup, I won’t be captured.
But attempting an assassination by gunfire and failing—I can’t help but have a wry smile as it is questionable which one of us was the villain.