Editing Chrome Shelled Regios:Volume9 Prologue

Barmelin moved in the foul smell as she cursed the tree roots. If she had taken the clear path in the Mechanical Department, she wouldn't be in this tragic situation. No, there might be other trouble. But to Barmelin, taking the other route was better than this one.

The normal route ran from the Mechanical Department to the depth of the court. As it took advantage of the Department where the city's legs moved, the route was like a maze. One might get lost in the maze or even be squashed to death by the walls. As such, it'd take a considerable amount of time to take that route, so instead, Barmelin had to go through the alley.

After a hard time, Barmelin finally managed to separate the roots. The foul smell now clung to her clothes. She decided to throw away the clothes she wore after everything had finished. Then she would need to melt herself in the bathtub. As she silently made her vow, she suddenly halted her steps.

"Geez, is this a joke," the man said. Anytime he recalled the event in the maze, trembling would seize him. A complicated path was all right, but the walls kept moving and the exit kept changing as a result. Also, the design that made him cry was made on top of a permanent exit. In addition, the walls really did want to kill him and make him into mincemeat. Even a Military Artist would find it very difficult to fight metal plates.

Everything else was dim, but lamps hung on the walls, shining with blue light. The air wasn't too bad. It didn't feel suffocating. He got the impression of a spacious area.

Still, it felt different from the feeling he got standing on a grassy plain. This was a feeling of being defeated by an artificial space. The feeling coming through the soles of his feet was different from before. This floor was made of polished stones. It reflected the blue light, making the place like the world of night. In the depths of the space was a huge door, and a circle of blue light surrounded it, as if to stress the existence of the door.

"......... As I said, can't you try to understand my troubles?" he said, rooted on the spot, his red hair swaying as if resisting the darkness.

"Are you shitting?"

He knew he had been noticed. Even for him who could move between cities at will, he could not move as he wished in this place. For the Wolf Faces and he himself, this was the biggest door of the ghost. This was a city dominated by unusual Miltiary Artists who obeyed a super-unusual person. And the person in the depths of this city was also....... He knew it wasn't easy to invade this city. But how did she get here earlier than him?

Though he could feel her presence, he had yet to see her. She wasn't using Sakkei. Taking advantage of the good echoing properties of this room, she was hiding in his blind spot.

The light of a Dite being restored flashed behind the man. The female's feet appeared above his own back. The man also restored his Dite, an elongated metal rod. His weapon was the metal whip. The light of restoration shone around his body.

"You were just shitting too."

He thought the rain had stopped, but it then assaulted him from an impossible direction. He blocked it with his weapon again and jumped to change his position.

The advantage of a gun was that it automatically turned the Kei into external Kei. This way, the user didn't have to spend time to make external Kei, so her attacking speed was much higher. The user needed to continuously pour Kei into the weapon and pull the trigger. The shortcoming was that the Kei poured into the weapon was basically turned into external Kei and nothing else, so it couldn't be used any other ways. Because of its other shortcoming of being unable to adjust its power, it was useless against Military Artists with strong defense and filth monsters with strong scales. But the advantage that one couldn't ignore was the weapon's long range and consecutive attacks. The user could concentrate on using Kei to strengthen her body. In this regard, even Savaris who was good at close combat was lacking.

This was his conclusion by speculating on the quality of the gun. A bad premonition flashed past him.

"You shitting lucky idiot, go die."

She swung the Dite to dispel the remnants of heat from it. The gun she was holding had now turned into a chain, clinging on her body.

"Who knows? I remember a red haired Military Artist who wields a metal whip, but this man's age doesn't match that in my memory. He's got a ten year gap."

The depth of the court. This area sunk in darkness and blue light once more returned to peace. Steady stirring that rocked one to sleep dispelled the remnants of war. Sleepiness called forth dreams. Dreams shook the darkness. The shaking darkness reflected reality, but reality was not here.