This Life, I Will Be the Protagonist

Mistblade sat astride Motor, pressing the No. 7 ball forward. Maple Syrup and Rita flanked Motor on each side, guiding his frame gently downward. Fat Goose sat behind Mistblade, back turned, facing the sea ahead, braced for the apprentices rushing their way.

All of them had gone limp, bodies relaxed. Mistblade only made sure the No. 7 ball kept moving, pushing Motor steadily toward the seabed, then stopped moving altogether.

The apprentices who hadn't managed to sink their ships followed them down, sniping from the edge of their attack radius.

Even as volleys streaked from above, they didn't strike back. Their freshly spawned bubbles absorbed everything.

[Mistblade]: Two minutes left.

[Fat Goose]: Is that enough?

[Rita]: It's here!

A vast black shape glided in, lunging first at the apprentices still throwing spells above.

Then, out of the corner of her vision, Rita spotted another shadow streaking toward them. Several laser shells blasted straight for the orb bound in chains of thunder.

Cinnabar?!

A rusted hull dangled behind it, hooked to its iron prongs. To chase them here, it had scuttled its own ship and dragged the wreck below.

It wanted Motor destroyed, along with the No. 7 ball.

They couldn't ignore it. Cinnabar's strange ability could shatter bubble shields.

At least the massive shadow was too busy mauling apprentices near the surface to come at them yet.

That left them free—for now—to face Cinnabar head-on.

[Rita]: What the hell is your problem?!

[Fat Goose]: Why does it call you brother?

[Mistblade]: You two don't look related at all.

[Maple Syrup]: Real brother?

[Fat Goose]: I can't imagine what you've done to make it hate you.

[Maple Syrup]: Careful you don't poison yourself.

[Rita]: He's one of ours!

[Motor]: Do we really have to talk about this now?!

This Cinnabar was nothing like before. According to the intel they'd bought, he had fully activated his battle form.

If his base form was humanoid mech, his combat form was a warship.

A miniaturized version, barely five meters long, but still a battleship.

And it moved flawlessly underwater, body parts detaching, rotating, transforming in every direction. If it wanted, its head could be its tail, its weapons could spin 360 degrees without a hitch.

It was absurd.

No wonder they were still talking—it was one thing to read the report, another to see it.

Its only shortcoming was that its divine talent was only B-grade.

[Motor]: We were born from the same Titan core…

[Maple Syrup]: Go on.

[Rita]: We're listening.

Rita yanked her violet crystal dagger from the surface and gripped it as a blade, charging the warship.

[Motor]: We don't have gender.

[Rita]: That's… oddly progressive?

[Motor]: …We don't reproduce by mating. We can be whatever gender we like, just switch the voice. So… I guess we're brother and sister.

[Fat Goose]: We're kids! We shouldn't be hearing this!

[Rita]: Wait, does that mean your whole race is—

[Maple Syrup]: Shut it, both of you!

Mistblade couldn't stand it either. Swapping positions with Rita mid-combat, she lashed her tail across her face.

[Motor]: At the final moment of our birth, when we absorbed the Titan core's energy, we both reached for it. He stole my initial form, I stole his S-rank divine gift.

[Motor]: From that perspective, we really are twins of the same core.

[Motor]: Grip the thunder chains!

[Motor]: Lose to anyone else if you must. Never to Cinnabar!!

They clutched the lightning links.

Motor melted into a mass of quicksilver fluid, wrapping the No. 7 ball, dragging the chains—and his teammates—into a dive.

Behind them, the warship's thrusters roared, fire belching even beneath the sea. Cinnabar closed in.

And looming above them both, the colossal shadow stalked closer.

Down the pillar they streaked: first the shifting mass of silver liquid, then the apprentices tethered by lightning, behind them the warship tearing through the water, and finally the vast unknown shadow.

Rita turned and cast the skill from her cart—[Early Retirement].

The glow slammed into Cinnabar. The warship lurched, slowed, sputtered like a machine in malfunction, almost as if waiting for the shadow to catch it.

[Fat Goose]: Thirty seconds left!

[Motor]: Enough.

[Motor]: Do you know why he hates me? Because he thinks what I stole was more precious.

[Motor]: So let me show you the divine talent I took…

—[Main Character Time]!

The world slowed.

Their minds still raced, but their bodies dragged. Thought had to crawl to motion.

Instant-cast skills now felt like they took half a minute.

They couldn't move, couldn't fight. Only think. Only chat.

Motor alone surged onward, the only one unfrozen.

He carried them swiftly to the base of the red pillar.

But there was nothing there.

They all thought they had guessed wrong—until Rita's pack flared open.

The map fluttered free, brushing across the seabed sand, and turned into a golden chest.

The liquid metal wrapped it and cracked it open.

Inside lay two spheres—one white, one black.

Tiny fish darted past, forming words: Choose the treasure you believe is correct, and give your reason.

[Motor]: Which do we take?!

[Maple Syrup]: Do you remember how many shots each cue landed?

[Rita]: The white cloud cue pocketed 4,927. The dark cloud cue, 4,790. The one that struck us had the lead.

But that proved nothing. They could belong to either side.

They were the white team's cue-ball, but the white cue had never spared them either.

[Motor]: Once I drop the time skill, I can hold only five seconds. Then I vanish with what's left of Ship 7!

Five seconds. Not nearly enough for explanations.

[Rita]: Pull me to the chest, then release it. I'll handle it!

Time snapped back. Above, the shadow descended like night itself.

—[No Logic]!

A deep blue helm appeared. Over the roar of the sea, Rita spoke rapid-fire.

"I say the white ball is the true treasure that grants Ship 7 the championship! That is my reason. That is the truth recognized by all!"

She seized the white sphere.

The world convulsed.

The cracked No. 7 ball burst free from Motor's body, merging into the white sphere.

The shadow crashed down, but too late.

The five of them fell together, plummeting into a golden passage below.

…

Blazing Ember: That's cheating!

Ironclaw: Seriously, how is that allowed?

Ashveil: Twisting the perception of every being so the white ball counts as the right treasure… it is a reason.

Ironclaw: That's a reason?

Ashveil: Why not?

Ashveil: The Divine Game accepted it.

Blazing Ember: Oh. Fair enough.

Grim Jester: …How much did Deceitful Bloom pay you?

Captain: How much did Deceitful Bloom pay you?

Drummer: How much did Deceitful Bloom pay you?

Deceitful Bloom: ???