Does the mechanical girl dream of the Messiah?

"Let them withdraw!"

"'The main gun was damaged in the previous fire coverage, but there is still ammunition left. I wish you good luck in military affairs, sir.' The message is as above."

"you----"

Buzz——————!!! Boom————!!!

"——These idiots!"

"Direct observation, the 'Player' type shadow has been confirmed to be eliminated. The enemy shadow is only the last one left."

Even if you lose your weapon, will you still choose to complete your mission in that way?

So stupid that it leaves one speechless.

In this way, the troublesome corps disappeared, the road was opened, and the only one left in the field of vision that could be marked as an "enemy" was that one.

"...Um...yeah, that's right."

Yes, it turned out to be like this in the end.

From the very beginning, they pushed forward forcefully, launched an attack with great fanfare, and achieved unprecedented brilliant results. It would be strange if "she" was not attracted. "She" knew her destination, "she" knew what she wanted to do, and "she" knew herself very well, so she would definitely choose to wait here in the end, with an extremely solid defense and an extremely fierce attack.

I had foreseen this scene when that annoying paladin named Lunicia said "That's not bait". Along with blood and death, "she" was waiting for me there. There was no doubt about it. It might be difficult to get around it, but it was easy to escape. "She" would not stop me because she was just a lost child who couldn't find her way back.

If you come to the appointment, you will die.

However, even if I will die, I still have to come to the appointment.

Breaking a promise is not something a lady should do.

"Your Excellency, this is truly remarkable."

Even at this moment, with only the last two mechanical puppets left, no supplies, no reinforcements, no way to retreat, and the enemy seemed so strong that it seemed impossible to defeat it, the auxiliary command puppet No. 00182 "Juliet" laughed instead, and said words of approval that were puzzling.

"What are you talking about, ma'am?"

"The difference in combat power between the enemy and us is obvious to the naked eye. Whether it's combat power or the number of soldiers - Your Excellency only has an advantage in range, but in the end you persisted all the way to the end, and even... you still have the advantage in numbers. Isn't this amazing?"

"Although I accept your praise and compliments with humility, it does not seem to be of much help in the current situation."

"It's just that at the end, I wanted to talk about something irrelevant. Please forgive my slip of the tongue, sir."

Apart from the sound of conversation, the only sound that could be heard was the faint sound of burning debris. "She" was motionless, not attacking hostile enemies that could move, but waiting, waiting for the fateful moment to come. "She" was so patient that Lusa couldn't help but recall the past. It was like this then, and it is still like this now. It can especially evoke people's memories in bad places.

"Are you still apologizing at a time like this?"

"My personality is more like a strict person."

"Would a serious type make a joke like that...?"

Lusa suddenly realized that she didn't seem to understand the puppets around her very well.

However, when they looked back, they realized that all that was left of them were burnt and shapeless wreckage.

How many have turned into ink stains, and how many have lost all their remains?

"Your Mightiness."

"Is this your last words? If it's not poetic enough, I won't record it in my mind."

"That's what the previous 'Assistant Commander' said. It's something that has been passed down."

"... and things like that. You always give me strange surprises, ma'am."

"'We made an appointment with Her Excellency that she would not forget anything, any performance'."

"..."

This was the stage she had long been accustomed to. Even though she had never expected such a stage, she had eventually adapted to the sounds of gunfire, artillery fire, the strong winds caused by explosions, the pungent smell of gunpowder, and the sparks flying and spreading before her eyes. These things that were equivalent to death were, to her, applause, cheers, spotlights and bouquets of flowers.

How many people have been killed, and how many mechanical puppets have been abandoned because of his own schemes and commands?

There is no need to keep statistics on such things any longer.

I am walking on a road I never expected, trampling on the meaning of life I once set, trampling on everything the world has given me, living, and then continuing to walk, because I don't want to forget anything, so I have to keep living. It's good to stay in the rear, commanding my subordinates steadily, and it doesn't matter if I step into the artillery fire with them out of interest. After all, my performance is superior, and I will definitely be destroyed later than them. I can participate in the battle or not. The most important thing is that I must record everything, and then turn it into a play that only exists in my mind and no one has ever appreciated.

If you die, you will be forgotten.

Whether it's short or long, a large part of memory will inevitably be forgotten.

I can't stand it. When I open my eyes again, will I really be the same person? I can't stand it. If I close my eyes like this, will I forget those things that have disappeared? One, two, ten, a hundred - close your eyes once, and then open them again. How much will I forget?

As long as we arrange them, them, and them into the script in our mind and complete that extremely brilliant play, they, them, and them will not disappear.

At least in this way, the epitaph for the playwright and the pillar of shame for the conductor are completed.

"You are not fit for this job. Tell the Mastermind and she will have you retire."

I remember that there was once an elite called "the one sentenced to death" who said something like this.

Although now it seems that what she said is indeed correct, I don't have the talent for this job, but...

Unconsciously, I have influenced so many people around me.

Would the Infiltrator and Iron Rain say "Good luck to you"? It's hard to imagine that in the Iron Leviathan.

This seemed to give some meaning to this long journey which was only for listing the crimes.

None of them thought of attributing this memory to the Opera House as a crime.

It's more like the opposite.

They were looking forward to it from the bottom of their hearts. That scene was something no one could imagine or reach, it was the supreme drama that belonged only to mechanical puppets, "The Baroque of Iron and Blood".

"Ms. Lusa."

"…you're not going to call me 'Mr. Opera' anymore?"

"Ms. Lusa, please be sure to bring Leah back."

"I'm the superior, don't use imperative sentences."

"For the last time, at least let me have some fun with my words."

She chuckled.

"We, the mechanical puppets around you, are all very much influenced by you - whether it's your strange poetry and cultural language or your willful personality flaws."

The auxiliary command puppet No. 00182, named "Juliet" by Lusa Efayeret, changed the magazine of the assault rifle in her hand while trying to get up from the bunker.

"Ms. Lusa, get ready. We are about to charge."

Even without talking, Lusa knew what she wanted to do.

"She" - Lia Efayeret, the "Arbiter" who gained even more power after being devoured, is now silently pointing the muzzle of her gun at this place. I don't know how much of her will is left now, but there is no doubt that when Lusa appears in her attack range, the final battle will begin.

A battle that seemed unwinnable.

Both sides were armed with "Marduk the Conqueror", but there was an overwhelming difference in power and range. One side was the real thing, while the other was just a specious thing with the same appearance. If the attack was launched recklessly, the "Opera House", which was not good at fighting, would only be defeated in the first wave of attack, just like every column that was targeted by the alien before.

However, the opposite of recklessness is that there is no "strategy" that can be used now. Lusa Ephayet is now just a commander without any troops. She no longer has any subordinates to command.

All of them were destroyed in the war along the way.

The only one left was a soldier named "Juliet" in front of him.

"You will die."

"We are mechanical puppets. We will not die, but will be damaged. Then we will be downloaded from the server again and welcome the next rebirth."

"For you now, it's just death. All your memories from Muirand to here will disappear."

"Have no idea."

Once again, she smiled a smile that was inconsistent with her setting.

For a mechanism to function in the way it was set up - it must be something like a malfunction.

"This is how we, the puppets, survive."

"...Do you need some cheering?"

"Just do it as usual."

"Well, start the timer, set it to ten seconds."

"——You must keep your promise at the beginning and not forget anything, not even a single performance."

Yeah, yeah.

How could I forget?

Every minute and every second, every will that dissipated before his eyes, every pool of blood, every sin, every violation of the meaning of his own existence, every betrayal of his father's expectations.

Even so, I chose to move on.

In order not to betray all their expectations and trust.

In order to find a way of survival that truly suits you.

So, again and again, like now——

Together with the people who support you, you move towards the battlefield.

Buzz——————!!!

"Your Mightiness."

Buzz——————!!!

"Ms. Lusa."

Buzz——————!!!

"Lusa."

Buzz——————!!!

"A good feast is easy to disperse, but a good meeting is hard to come by."

Buzz——————!!!

"You like her the most, right? So, go and take her home."

...Lost signal...Disconnected...Offline proxy command mode activated...No online assistant command puppet found...All command rights transferred to the command-specialized elite puppet "Opera House"...

…………Zizi…………Process aborted…………

Chapter 30: The End of the Girl

"From today on, you are a member of this place."

"No? Don't have weird expectations."

"You can't use magic, right? Those who don't have the ability to cast spells and can't even learn it are not humans, but livestock. You've lived in this country for so long, you can't be so ignorant of this common sense, right?"

"…Forget it. Why should I get angry with a beast like this?"

"Listen carefully, this is a pigsty, and you are an animal that can understand human language."

"Those who didn't understand were dealt with. The apprentices' tax money must always be used in the right place and cannot be wasted."

"Ah... Of course, you are an exception."

"do not you know?"

"Look at that expression and you really don't know. Then listen carefully, the others are livestock, but you are different. You can be slaughtered and discarded at any time... Oh, what is it? A plague pig? About the same."

"Let me give you a name."

"The label is 'witch'... People like you who are born polluted are conventionally called 'witches'. There are also men who are called 'demons'. More specific labels can only be determined after the pollution characteristics are identified. By the way, just give it a name. You are the only 'witch' in this organization."

"Enel, well, I'll just call you Enel."

"'Witch' Enel, this will be your name from now on."

"Be honored."

"Although he probably won't live more than three months."

……

It really feels like a very long journey.

Is it far? No, it's not. The longest journey I've taken so far, apart from the cross-continental journey by public transportation, is the border trip from Twek to Muirand. Although there is no danger on the road, and the expected attacks from the remnants of "Natha's Legacy" or undead creatures have not been encountered, it seems that they still gather their main forces in Marie and entangle with the regular army of Marie, but this long journey is still enough to make people feel tired, crossing woodlands and hilly areas, and traveling on mountain roads without even regular roads. The winter environment is also a headache.