Chapter 20.1 – Primitive Hunting

Vehicles break down.

Running them through a war zone over unpaved roads only makes things worse.

And in this world, in this era, nobody ever imagined an automobile would be driving around, so the roads are in terrible shape.

That’s why dwarves—women blessed with both brute strength and nimble hands—are the perfect crew for Nine Lives. If trouble strikes, they can fix her on the spot.

“Hahaha! I hauled four of these along in case something busted in the real fight, but who’d have thought all four would be purring? That proves how precise the parts are—nice work, dwarves!”

“You bet! Even we’re shocked we managed to build something like this!”

All four units of Nine Lives are prototypes.

They’re barely more than proof-of-concept models, yet they’re already slated for combat trials.

For the moment, at least, they’ve cleared the single requirement of “carry people and move.”

“And the ride’s surprisingly smooth—hardly any shaking…”

“The previous version rattled so much the nutrient tanks and heart casings shattered. We realized she was useless unless we killed the vibration. So we swapped in rubber tires and fitted springs, and somehow finished the job.”

He really does live up to the “genius” label he gives himself.

Gaikaku’s prototype hasn’t broken down even after several minutes on the move.

Thanks to the crew’s training—and the fact five people work the controls—no one’s fumbling over how to drive her.

“So, what do we do from here?”

“Depends on the enemy! But relax—we’re not gonna lose!”

Gaikaku steered with overflowing confidence.

“Engine room, you know the drill! Only one set of hearts at a time!”

“Roger!”

Nine Lives carries nine heart engines, but they don’t all run at once.

Except during start-up and when top speed’s needed, only three hearts run at any time.

Three hearts make one set, and there are three sets total. The systems are independent, so even with six hearts down she can still move.

Cruising now, only one set—three hearts—is running.

By the way, Nine Lives has no accelerator, brake, clutch, or gearshift—speed changes happen solely by switching hearts on and off.

So even though she rolls on tires, piloting her feels more like driving a motorboat.

“Starboard quarter! Enemy approaching!”

“Got it!”

With no side- or rear-view mirrors, a dedicated lookout peers through viewing slits to check outside.

“W-we’re surrounded! A-are you sure we’re okay?”

“No problem! Even if they’re elites!”

To the common sense of this world it looks like the freight bed of a wagon with thick wooden walls is trundling along all by itself.

When the young centaurs notice, they feel no fear—just curiosity—so they draw near.

“What the heck… why’s that cart moving with no horses or oxen?”

Here, a “vehicle” is normally dragged by animals or people.

A self-propelled machine with its own power source—Nine Lives—is a first, so naturally the centaurs have never seen anything like it.

Intrigued, they match speed and start running alongside.

“It’s making some crazy clunk-clunk sounds…”

“Don’t get too close. They might shoot from inside.”

“Ha! Like that’s gonna happen!”

Nine Lives is moving at the pace of a human sprint, but to the centaurs it’s a leisurely walk.

Belittling her, they even pound their hands on her outer wall.

This is what will later be called “road rage.”

The world’s first automobile, Nine Lives, experiences its first field deployment—and immediately becomes the world’s first victim of road rage.

“Th-they’re banging on us!”

“All right, let’s ram ’em! Everyone grab the nearest rail—it’s gonna shake!”

Nine Lives has no seat belts.

In fact, there aren’t even seats; everyone stands, just like on a ship.

“Aye!”

“Hard to starboard!”

“Hard to starboard” means they’re turning right.

Gaikaku spun the helm hard right, charging straight at the centaurs on the flank.

Technically, that’s reckless driving—a car chase.

“W-whoa?!”

A vehicle many times their weight suddenly tried to slam into them.

The centaur who’d been pounding the side panicked and pulled away.

“Idiot! Get clear—now!”

“Y-yeah, fine… geez! Mocking us, huh!”

A direct collision would be a massive accident.

Knowing that, Sajitta warned his fooling-around comrades.

“I’ll turn that toy into Swiss cheese!”

At spear range, one centaur drew his bow.

It was a small nomad’s bow.

Its range was shorter than a normal bow, but at this distance it couldn’t miss, and the power was more than enough.

With the casual air of bullying something weaker, he loosed the arrow.

Thud!

The arrow struck before losing speed, burying itself in the wooden armor.

No—only the very tip stuck. It barely pierced, then shook loose from vibration and wind and fell away.

Seeing their weapons literally bounce off, the young centaurs bristled.

“Hey, what the hell is this?! Quit screwing around!”

“Calm down… Let me try.”

This comrade—the elite, Sajitta.

He raised a bow several classes stronger than the rest, drew it wide, and loosed from near point-blank range.

This time the arrow didn’t even stick—it shattered.

That spoke to its power, yet the armor was simply tougher than the arrowhead.

“…I get it. They’ve probably lined the inside with iron plate.”

Sajitta spat the words, annoyed.

In reality the armor used nothing as heavy as iron, but was reinforced by other means, so he wasn’t far off.

“What now? If you can’t get through, nothing we do will.”

“A slow, tough cart… Why don’t we just leave it?”

“Yeah, boring! Let’s go raid the village already!”

“Right. Smashing this thing won’t gain us anything.”

“…No. We withdraw.”

Here Sajitta made the sensible decision.

“Think about it. Could we fight armed humans while that thing plods after us the whole time?”

“That would be… a pain.”

“Even if we take it, it’s just more baggage, slows us down. We could even get run over.”

“Not a fun story… but hey, after all their prep and building that machine—if we turn tail and they can’t chase, that’ll really grind their gears.”

They could outdistance it anytime they liked, yet their attacks couldn’t scratch it.

A nuisance—an enemy they didn’t want.

Sajitta made the rational call and led his companions away.

Live today and you can raid again tomorrow.

If the enemy is fully prepared, the right move is simply to go home.

Sajitta’s band burst into a sprint.

The centaurs—supreme on the grasslands—hit full gallop, leaving Nine Lives behind and vanishing toward the horizon.

“Enemy’s on the run! They’ve broken away—they’re leaving the vehicle and heading away from the village! They’re fast! Pursue?”

“Of course!”

Driving them off before any damage was done was good enough.

But if you chase them off without hurting them, they’ll just hit another village.

We have to pursue and make sure they can never bandit again.

“Then let’s fire up all the hearts—”

“No—stick to the plan! Observer, up on the roof with the spyglass, track their course! Navigator, go with him, mark our current position! From their heading, project their route! Note any impassable terrain!”

If a centaur runs in earnest, Nine Lives—currently on only one-third power—can never catch up.

Even against an average centaur they’d be left in the dust.

“All right, centaurs… time to teach your bodies what human hunting looks like!”

But for Gaikaku, that was entirely within expectations.

He kept grinning, feral and full of teeth.

※

After shaking off the strange vehicle at full gallop, the young centaurs ran on, disgruntled.

They had only pillaged because they wanted to rampage.

They wanted the rush of looting, the high of fleeing, the satisfaction of making their enemies suffer.

Being denied that left them nothing but frustration.

“Seriously, what was that thing? Why was it even moving?”

“Yeah… I get the thick armor, but still…”

“Maybe there was an ogre inside pushing it?”

“…Just picturing that is hilarious!”