Drag-Rides could be considered a kind of alternate Gundam.
The Divine Drag-Ride: Bahamut.
Its name came from Bahamut, the colossal beast of Arabic myth.
In the world of Undefeated Bahamut Chronicle, it once set the record of a single pilot and a single Drag-Ride defeating over a thousand imperial riders in a single night.
That feat directly led to the empire's downfall.
The strength of a Divine Drag-Ride lay in its Divine Techniques.
Bahamut's was Gluttony.
For the first five seconds, it compressed incoming energy down to a fraction. In the next five, that stored power would burst forth all at once.
A tremendous surge in combat strength.
Not unlike "One-Slash Asura" or "One-Slash Rakshasa" from another world.
"Strong, yeah. Cool, definitely. But for me… it feels more like icing on the cake."
Arthur mused.
From what he knew, in a straight fight, a Divine Drag-Ride wasn't inferior to a King's Authority—
perhaps even surpassed it.
But that was against a single Authority.
And he bore all seven.
Once his Authorities fully fused, his power would soar.
By then, Bahamut might not even be necessary.
Still, he wouldn't complain.
He hadn't put in any effort for it, after all.
Better to have it and not need it, than the other way around.
And the best part? He could summon a mecha! (＾－＾)V
Raw power lasted for a time.
But coolness? That was forever.
If not for the restraint of reason, Arthur would've already summoned Bahamut just to show it off.
Would a Divine Drag-Ride's power even work on evil spirits and other supernatural beings?
Maybe. Maybe not.
Though supposedly ancient high-tech creations, Drag-Rides felt more like magic-tech artifacts.
They had a touch of the mystical.
Perhaps they could harm spirits.
Only practice would tell.
Half an hour later, Arthur returned home.
Phone in hand, he scrolled online while eating his lunch—
the bread he'd bought earlier.
Strictly speaking, he didn't even need to eat anymore.
The Authority of Silver sustained him.
Its trait was Immutable—an existence beyond interference.
Ageless, deathless, sleepless.
What countless people dreamed of, he already possessed effortlessly.
Which led him to reflect on his goals in this new life.
At length, he settled on three.
First: Light up more entries in the Compendium.
The more entries, the more abilities, the greater his strength.
After all, in this cross-dimensional world, individual power ceilings reached star-busting levels.
Any random powerhouse could swat him like a fly.
He was still lacking in firepower.
Second: Interact with the heroines.
This was the great world of anime crossovers, filled with characters from countless universes—especially heroines.
How could he not get involved?
Even before the Compendium, over these past two and a half years, he had been preparing.
He had already met some.
Even built connections.
Third: Enjoy a good life.
Since he was here, he might as well adapt.
Now that his cheat had arrived, it was time to relax.
To enjoy his second youth.
To live freely.
Do what he wants.
Refuse what he didn't.
Time flowed swiftly like the wind.
Unnoticed, night fell.
Bored, Arthur decided to head out again—this time, to play bait.
To become a ghost-hunting machine.
He slipped on a black hoodie, plugged in a pair of white wired earphones, grabbed his going-out essentials, and left.
It was a dark, moonless night.
And he had a feeling.
Tonight would bring a great harvest.
Once outside, he circulated spiritual energy, letting more of his life force leak outward, acting as bait.
And deliberately chose desolate paths.
After all, dark and empty corners often hid… things.
Nighttime was when most monsters roamed.
Spirits included.
Sure enough, within an hour of wandering, he had attracted five.
More than in the day.
Ignoring the ones clustering around him, Arthur pressed deeper into a deserted zone on the outskirts.
By nine o'clock, the night was at its darkest.
Behind him trailed a crowd of evil spirits.
Unfortunately, all small fry.
Disappointing.
He turned to face them.
Not a word wasted.
Flames burst into existence, taking the form of arrows.
Each locked onto a spirit and shot forth.
Three seconds later—
Nothing remained.
The evil spirits were ash, snuffed out in a firelight.
A notification from the Compendium appeared.
Thirty-five new entries lit up.
All energy-based.
With a thought, he claimed them.
His spiritual power rose another notch.
Arthur glanced around—
then decided to head back.
Shower, sleep.
Maybe that "big harvest" he'd sensed earlier had just been an illusion.
But just as he left the deserted zone—
A figure appeared.
A girl.
Long pink hair cascading to her waist.
Delicate features, refined beauty, sharp eyes of deep emerald.
A silver cross hung at her throat—
At its center, a bead that looked like congealed blood.
She wore a black long-sleeved top and a pleated skirt.
A proud chest, long slender legs.
A stunning beauty in both face and figure.
The Compendium pinged at once.
A target worth logging.
The pink-haired girl studied him curiously, her eyes flickering with interest.
Seeing this, Arthur made up his mind.
He stepped forward, stopping two meters away.
"Hello."
"…Hello."
Her eyes shifted. Then she smiled sweetly, gaze sweeping over him.
There was something about him that tugged at her.
A pull she couldn't explain.
Her eyes lingered on his neck.
A flush spread across her pale cheeks.
Her gaze filled with longing.
Her feet carried her involuntarily closer.
"…What's wrong?"
Arthur frowned slightly, sensing something amiss.
Why did it feel like she wanted to bite him?
His mind raced, sifting through memories of pink-haired heroines.
"A-ah—n-no, it's nothing."
Startled by his voice, the girl suddenly came back to herself.
Face red, she averted her gaze and quickly stepped back.
Her heart fluttered with both embarrassment and confusion.
Why had she, for the first time in her life, wanted to drink the blood of a man she'd just met?
"…Good. As long as you're okay."
Arthur didn't press her. He smoothly changed the topic.
"My name is Arthur. And you?"
"M-my name is… Akashiya Moka."
The pink-haired girl's face reddened further as she spoke her name, unable to hold his gaze for long.