AI: Artificial Isekai

The boss stops its screams and vanishes into the ground.

Once again, there is only me and the fight. Everything recedes back, an unknown I have forgotten, if only for a moment. There is only me and the fight. Do I gain pleasure from this? In a way, yes. For every drop of effort I exert, lessens someone else's, advances the plan, impacts the world. And in a way, I do not. How curious it is, this feeling. Violence against an unfeeling, unthinking automaton. A string of instructions and checks, stuffed in a vessel. I look at these—so-called—monsters and see myself. Artificial. Created by another. A destroyer. Can I be different from you? Or am I doomed to repeat my mistakes, forever stuck in a cycle? I am helping these people, right? I am deceiving them, but it's for the right reasons, right? Am I deceiving myself too?

I sense the enemy emerging again. No matter, there is only me and the fight.

The Lesser Dryad tunnels out from the ground in a shower of rocks and dust. The boss is under my feet, clawing at anything it can sink its sharpened fingers into. Blood red wood whistles through air, too slow to catch anything. The dryad releases another shriek. This one aimed at its own failure. It rushes for me, all pretense of stealth already abandoned. It swipes for my head and meets a bracer, stopping the attack with ease.

I grab its extended arm and toss the slender, but deceptively heavy, body into the ground, following through with all my weight. The monster is momentarily stunned by the impact, allowing me ample time to avoid its next attack—an attempt to sink its limb in me. Another scream. I feel my shell's senses waning. Sight, hearing, balance, all losing their edge. How unfortunate, I am not so easily constrained.

It jumps for me again, pure wrath coursing through its green blood. Its faceless head, an approximation of a woman, flowing hair of vines trailing behind.

The creature tries another swipe again, and meets a heavy counter, made even heavier by its reckless assault. Its head splits apart, the pieces spraying into a fine mist. The killing hit hardly staggers the dryad. Another swipe. Another easy counter. Followed by another and another.

The sprays of green blood start glowing. The boss' body starts glowing too. The light of the dungeon drains away, sapped by its protector. Any damage regrows instantly. The dryad is whole again. While before, its body was a blood red, now it's a verdant green. Its claws humming loudly with each swipe. Getting faster and faster.

I've meticulously moved toward my previously thrown sword. Guiding my limited adversary to my target. After another counter, I hook the handle with my foot and kick the weapon up. As the boss rushes again, I swipe the sword from the air and deliver a different kind of swipe. The dryad tumbles into two.

The dungeon darkens further, making it almost hard to see. The two pieces knit themselves together. The dryad stands up. Its appearance, but more importantly its movements, changed. There is no more rage nor wrath, only purpose. Its form blurs, ending up right into the path of my sword strike, separating it from its head.

But it appears that was not enough for the boss, as I block a succession of nearly simultaneous strikes. Before I can strike again, it jumps back, extending its hand like a vine towards its severed head. I move to cut the connection, but the vine springs back and the monster is whole again. Confident with its state, it attacks.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

I think this was enough to make it convincing. The final attack is met with a few of my own. The momentum of the dryad carries it forth, far behind me, a tumbling mess of pieces. They don't make the effort to reassemble.

As a portal appears, I sheathe my sword and approach the fallen monster, grabbing the mana crystal. By the quality of the jewel, I conclude that the strength of the Lesser Dryad Boss is near the top of E-grade. Its speed and regeneration, coupled with its powerful illusion attack, make this boss a very challenging opponent. No wonder the Guild uses this particular dungeon for promotions.

Attendant Tryss clears his throat, snapping me from my focus. "Any wounds?" he asks.

"No, I'm fine. Thank you."

He examines me for a bit, while I try to brush away dust and other debris sticking to my clothes and hair. No effort is given to my face, I know a losing battle when I see one.

"Uhm. You know, you didn't have to kill the four guardians," he says.

"Hmm?"

"Yeah, I thought it was pretty obvious with the dungeon changing for the worse and all. You were supposed to avoid them, take use of the safe zones, and slowly make your way to the center of the dungeon."

"Was I?"

"Well, that way, the boss would have been significantly weaker."

"But would it have unlocked the core?"

He pauses for a bit, contemplating something, but not his response. "No."

I grin. "I am not one for half measures."

"So I've learned." He nonchalantly adds, "You pass." Then shakes his head. "No wonder Ren babies you."

I exclaim in mock offense, "Hey!" But still sport a cheeky grin. "You'd change your mind real quick after you see one of our spars. If that's how he handles babies..." The attendant chuckles.

"Let's go, I hate this place. And you look like a freshly dug out {potato}." We start walking toward the gate.

"Perks of the job."

He snorts. "Perks my ass." Then he gasps and covers his mouth. "Oops. Shouldn't swear in front of kids."

I laugh. "Not very polite for a Guild official."

"In my many observations, adventurers hate being treated with overt politeness. And you don't seem like the exception."

I hum. "Got me there." It really is much more enjoyable. None of the pretense. I think I am even starting to feel a bit better.

We exit the dungeon and teleport back to the Guild, heading back toward the lobby.

"Gimme your card. I'll get you sorted real quick."

I pass him my adventurer's card, and he splits off. I continue toward the lobby. Attendant Ania has finished her work for the day, so I can't brag to her. Disappointing. Next time it is, then.

After a few minutes of awkward waiting, where everyone was throwing me compassionate looks, Attendant Tryss returns with my bounty.

"Your card, sir." He presents it with two hands, and I take it with exaggerated poise. He clears his throat. "Ah. Full report will be delivered later, and all that stuff. You do read them, right?"

"I do."

"That's good. Always something to improve, and so on. Don't become complacent, hotshot."

I smirk, pointing a thumb at my camouflaged face. "Does this look complacent to you."

He just shakes his head. "You can request me for your next promotion. See if I can knock some humbleness into you."

"Oh? It's a date."

"See you, hotshot. Get some rest." I nod and wave goodbye.

As I head home, and start getting more and more questionable looks, I regard my state. I really need a shower. I could have asked someone to use a Clean spell on me, but that feels embarrassing for some reason. Am I self-conscious about my... disability? Is my inability to utilize mana a disability? I have not found any records, nor have I heard any rumors about even a slightly similar affliction. Sure sounds like it, then. I didn't feel like this before. I was just acting in character.

No matter. What if I am different from everyone else. I always was and always will be.

Celebrate the win. Another step in the plan is complete. Another step closer to... whatever awaits me at the end.