[Recommend host to increase the power output by 5%].
Barda read the notification over and over again. 'Just out of curiosity, how high is my power output thus far?' He thought, rather than speak, at the AI.
[Host power output set at default: 15% of total power.]
What? Barda was more than bewildered. 'So you're telling me that all this time, through all the fights and all that sh*t, I have been operating at 15%?'
[Affirmative.]
'Why?' Barda shouted within his brain, he didn't understand why the AI would intentionally limit his power!
[For the host to function within a normal human community, there is a need for the host to operate within humanized parameters. 15% is the optimal power level for a normal human community.]
'Okay, I get that,' Barda thought as realization dawned on him, 'but why not tell me?'
[Information has not been withheld from the host. It has been displayed in the HUD's bottom right corner. Moreover, the host can change the power output levels in the settings.]
Blonde moments, we all have them. Barda thought as he grabbed his bow tight. His situation had just taken a turn. He quickly added power output levels by 10%. In an instant, he had turned the tables from an evade mission to kill order.
[Targets locked, executing termination order.]
Lady Ellen had noticed Barda's freezing for a moment, and she had panicked. In her heart, she though Barda was now without options. Like a deer in the headlights. [The author couldn't think of an appropriate metaphor to match Lady Ellen's timeline on this occasion. Collecting data.]
Point is, while Barda had been busy arguing with his AI, everyone on the battlefield, who by now had their eyes fixed on Barda and his bout with the dragons, assumed he had frozen. He was low on ammo and he had 4 beasts of destruction, who were unkillable, gunning for him. He was a saint for not freezing sooner. Even Batoo was tensed up, his idol was in trouble and he couldn't do anything to help out.
Barda's hand rose with the bow, followed by 4 loud tangs of his bowstring. None of the spectators saw as he nocked the arrows and fired. Had Sten been alive, he'd have been mesmerized by the sheer brilliance and fluidity of Barda's movement.
It wasn't Barda moving his body, at least not consciously. After so many shots fired at the dragons, the AI had collected a lot of data. For instance, it had deduced that the scales overlay like a pangolin's. From its back, it was easier to guide an arrow in, but from the front, the arrow kept bouncing and sliding off. More than that, Barda had found the weak points, and what's more, he had increased power to boot.
The arrows produced a loud bang as they tore through the air at speeds over 500kmh. The dragons were tearing at Barda, their maws wide open savoring the taste of the meal to come. This situation reminded Barda of a certain spider in a certain cave.
The bow was shaking. The cable was almost about to break at the power that it had had to bear not once but 4 times, and Barda understood what the AI was talking about. With 10% more power output, he was inhumanly strong, but that was what he needed.
There was one terrible consequence of his power output. To generate that much power, he needed a sturdier body. The AI had had to harden the polymers within his body, almost doubling his weight. He was already heavy enough as is. With the new weight, the horse couldn't bear it any longer. Especially with the work he had had it do for the past couple of hours. It was up to its elbows with exhaustion and this was the final straw.
4 terrible screams rang out on the battlefield, leaving everyone baffled beyond comprehension. The 4 beasts had not only been penetrated, but they had also tumbled down on the ground, ceasing movement in an instant.
"They're dead?" Commander Dana asked, shocked. She couldn't believe what she was seeing before her eyes. She had seen the man freeze, she had seen the dragons lock on him. This was it, her chance to see the man finally destroyed, gotten rid off. She was even ready to shout "Good riddance!" at the blast of the dragon breath. She almost had him.
She had seen him pull through once more. Evade the attack and kill all 4 dragons in one fell swoop. The how still had not registered in his mind.
"You see that! That was a good shot!" Arnea shouted as she stood up, excited.
"4 good shots," Krib said.
"Look, the wyverns are giving him their essence," Arnea shouted. A bewildered Krib couldn't even come up with a snacky comment due to the shock on his face.
Looking at the dragons, Barda was shocked to see them simmering. He walked over to where the main one was. The moment he touched it, he felt something come to his fingers. He plucked it but he knew he didn't have time to inspect the orb he'd received. He quickly put it away in his pocket. He then walked to every dragon collecting their essence, although he didn't know that's what they were.
Barda picked up a spear and thrust it deep into his steed's gut. It was already on its point of death, there was nothing more he could do for it. He then gleefully walked off the battlefield in the direction his people had run off to.
***
"Sir Branton, all this seems pretty bad," The prince of Reuze said as he steered his horse closer to his 'friend'.
"Lord Otto, with your 100,000 men on our side, we still have a chance." Sir Branton exclaimed. He had his legion with him. With only 5,000 men under his command, Sir Branton didn't feel as if he was contributing much. With his friend contributing so much, he felt much better.
"Your king is dead," The prince said flatly.
"I know, I also saw the attack on the wall." Sir Branton said with a dark expression.
"So is the princess, most probably, 4 fire drakes are not something to mess with, especially in an open battlefield. Look at what the 10 above us are doing."
"How would you know that?"
"I have my ways, but this moment is not about me," The Reuzean prince said as he eyed Sir Branton in the eye. "This is a very important moment for you. Your people are leaderless, and Gumina is coming hard."
Sir Branton took a moment to process what his friend was telling him.
"You dirty filthy traitor!" Every soldier in place girdled themselves. Both Sir Branton and his people were with the bulk of the prince's forces. Funny thing is, to keep things contained from the most effective intelligence agency in the east, the Reuzean prince had only kept a few commanders in the loop, everyone else was caught off-guard. However, they knew to respond to their prince's command.
The Tristanites were enraged but the Reuzeanites were even more shocked. They had sung with these men, drank with them, bled with them, now they were betraying them? That didn't sit right with them at all.
"Take a moment and reconsider here, this is your moment right here. Your chance to save your people and your city from the invasion of the Guminate army," The prince said each word methodically. "You stand at the precipice here. This is your chance to right your king's errors."
"When did you and the Gumina demons hatch this plan up?" Sir Branton said in spite. He may have been a snowflake if ever there was one, but he still was loyal to the core. He bled Tristan, and he was having none of it.
"Like Tristan, we were also approached, but unlike you, we were not as proud. We don't have these fancy high walls and the arrogance that comes with them. We knew we were no match for the kingdom, so we submitted, as you should have done!" Lord Otto spoke this as a concession, as a way to win hearts and change minds.
"All he had to do was accept to be a subordinate city-state, no blood would have been shed. Alas, he was too arrogant, and now he is dead, and so is his daughter." The prince had been speaking out loud to garner the support of his people. He then approached Sir Branton, so close he could kiss him, "Now is your turn to make the same decision."
He had to admit, this was a difficult decision, not one he could hash up. He loved his city and would detest at the idea of betraying it. He was ready to lay his life down if need be. That being said, this was the future of his city they were talking about. If there was a way he could save it may be, keep it from falling. I mean we are talking about 10 dragons circling the city.
Old Branton would never admit that his desire to have all the power was what was driving him. He put down his sword and asked, "What do you need me to do?"