"Yo, hello there."
The orange-haired youth surveyed the messy battlefield around him before his gaze finally landed on Finn and the others. He flashed a smile so radiant it was almost blinding, and casually waved his hand in greeting.
"Giving me such a big present right when I arrive? How passionate."
Although his attitude was friendly to the point of being flippant, and his face maintained a harmless smile, the bodies of Finn, Riveria, Gareth, Ais, and all the First-Class Adventurers of the Loki Familia uncontrollably tensed the moment they saw him.
They gripped their weapons tighter, feeling as if their hearts were being squeezed by an invisible giant hand, making it somewhat difficult to breathe.
It was a sense of oppression refined to the absolute extreme; that unreserved murderous intent was even... above that of Ottar, the "Warlord" known as the strongest in the city in their memories.
"Hello."
Finn licked his dry lips, forcefully suppressing his drumming heartbeat. Squeezing out a smile befitting a "brave commander," he asked, "Could you tell me who you are? Or rather... what exactly are you?"
"What?"
Hearing Finn's choice of words, the orange-haired youth initially feigned an exaggerated look of dissatisfaction.
"That's mean, 'what' am I? I'm a pure human, you know. Not some weird thing that grew out of the ground."
But soon, he scratched his head and switched to an apologetic expression.
"Though, sorry about that, I seem to have just arrived and haven't quite figured out the situation yet. To be honest, even I don't know what I count as right now."
He muttered a few sentences to himself as if thinking aloud, then laughed heartily as if giving up on thinking altogether.
"Forget it, whatever. Let me introduce myself first."
He straightened his posture, bearing a trace of pride and a playful smile, and spoke in a declaring tone:
"My name is Tartaglia. You can also call me 'Childe,' the 11th of the Fatui Harbingers under The Tsaritsa."
He paused, his smile widening as he looked at the bewildered expressions on the faces of Finn and the rest.
"Though I have no idea why I've appeared here, I suspect this isn't my main body, and there's a will constantly telling me inside my head to kill you all."
He pointed a finger at his own temple, his expression as if he were stating an everyday triviality.
"Sorry about this. While I don't know why, this order is like a mission from Her Majesty to me—something that absolutely must be completed. So I'm going to kill you, sorry."
As he finished speaking, he grinned, revealing a fanatical, expectant, beast-like smile.
How did he get here? He didn't know.
What was this place? He didn't know.
Why did he have to kill the people in front of him? He didn't know.
But it didn't matter.
He was only certain of one thing—he could fight to his heart's content.
So, casting aside those headache-inducing questions and ignoring the troublesome thoughts, it was time for a thrilling, all-out slaughter.
Hearing Childe's self-introduction, Finn and the others exchanged blank looks.
The Tsaritsa? Was that the king of some kingdom? And what organization was the Fatui? They completely failed to understand what the other party was talking about.
But there was one thing every single one of them knew with absolute clarity.
And that was that this youth standing before them, who called himself "Childe," was terrifyingly, absurdly strong.
Finn's brain worked furiously.
The opponent wasn't his real body... somewhat similar to that "Alise" they had encountered earlier.
The "will" ordering him to kill them... inside this Dungeon, aside from the Dungeon itself, who else could it be?
An incredibly logical deduction instantly formed in his mind.
—The Dungeon was undergoing some kind of unknown anomaly.
It was no longer satisfied with merely spawning monsters; instead, through some method, it had begun to replicate, or "create," powerful "killers" possessing the memories and personalities of specific individuals.
From the long-dead "Crimson Flower of Justice" to this Childe before them, who claimed to be the 11th of the Fatui Harbingers.
This was, without a doubt, an abnormal situation capable of overturning all common sense in Orario.
"Don't overthink it, buddy."
Looking at Finn's face, which was written all over with deep thought, Tartaglia's smile grew even brighter and purer.
It was the kind of fanatical, bloodthirsty excitement a hunter showed when they found prey worth fighting.
"I can tell you're a brave warrior. Your companions are, too. So, stop wasting time on boring thoughts... and let's have a glorious fight."
He pulled up the corners of his mouth, revealing a beastly grin brimming with fighting spirit.
He could clearly sense the battle aura radiating from the group in front of him, so condensed it was almost tangible.
Every single one of them was a qualified, battle-hardened warrior.
This time, he was definitely going to have a blast.
"Well then... let's exchange greetings!"
Before he even finished speaking, his right hand thrust forward, and countless streams of water formed purely of magic surged from the void as if alive, rapidly intertwining and coalescing in his palm.
In the blink of an eye, an elegantly shaped, magnificent longbow rippling with watery light took form.
Without even needing the motion to nock an arrow, he simply pulled back the bowstring made of water, and an arrow, similarly condensed from high-pressure water and glinting with a dangerous blue light, materialized instantly.
He was going to challenge the entire Loki Familia single-handedly.
One against many?
Fighting like this made it all the more exhilarating.
Whoosh—!
Without the slightest warning, the water arrow transformed into a streak of blue lightning, whistling sharply as it tore through the air, heading straight for the Loki Familia's vanguard shield formation.
Dong—!!!
The moment that seemingly weightless water arrow struck the first shield, it erupted with a heavy, deafening boom like a siege cannonball.
The terrifying impact made the thick shield, capable of withstanding a monster's charge, groan under the overwhelming pressure.
The arm of the vanguard holding the shield went violently numb, and his body couldn't help but slide half a step backward, leaving two deep gouges in the solid ice.
And this, was only the beginning.
Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh! Whoosh!
Childe's movements were fast to the extreme; drawing the bow and firing the arrows were completed in one smooth, uninterrupted motion.
The bowstring of water blurred into an afterimage between his fingers.
In a split second, over a dozen water cannonballs, their power completely undiminished, poured down like a torrential rainstorm, continuously bombarding the Loki Familia's shield wall.
The sound of explosions echoed throughout the entire floor.
----
Support this fanfict by leaving Positive Review, Comments, and Power Stones.
For Advance Chapters:
> Patreon.com/NegativeTranslations