by Mamare Touno
The monsters’ levels were 48 and 52. These were fairly high levels for Elder Tales monsters, but they were still forty levels below Shiroe’s group. They wouldn’t get any experience points from defeating them.
During their training over the past few days, Shiroe, Naotsugu, and Akatsuki had learned that the Elder Tales specs were reproduced fairly faithfully in this world. They still weren’t sure, but they suspected that a monster would have to be five levels below them—in other words, level 85—for them to earn any experience points by defeating it. However, if the three of them together were able to defeat a level 85 monster at all at this point, it would be a very close fight. Besides, although one level-85 monster would be tough enough, monsters tended to attack in groups.
“You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I chugged a potion. The Great Naotsugu’s Defense is an iron fortress, like that one mecha. Steel city.”
Naotsugu grinned and struck the armor he was wearing. Since his fist was sheathed in a dull gray gauntlet as well, it made a heavy, hollow sound.
According to Naotsugu, the pain from enemy attacks was far less than what it would be in the real world. He said that even when his HP fell below 50 percent, instead of feeling half-dead, he felt as though he was covered in hot, swollen, stinging bruises. As Naotsugu put it, the very worst pain was about as bad as whacking your little toe on the corner of your dresser.
I think I’d be in tears by the third time that happened, though.
Shiroe had frowned slightly at Naotsugu’s words, but Naotsugu himself had laughed, loud and long.
Still, just because it’s that way now doesn’t necessarily mean it will stay that way, Shiroe thought as he stood guard. We’re still fighting low-level enemies at this point, and we don’t take a lot of damage all at once. We have the time to make careful decisions during battle, and we can fight without paying too much attention to securing a path of retreat. If we keep fighting higher-level enemies, though, we’ll probably start taking more damage… If that happens, no matter how good Naotsugu is at what he does, he may not have as much leeway as he does now. I’d better come up with some other possibilities now, while there’s time…
The Guardian class was noted for being the cornerstone of the front line and for having the highest HP and Defense of all twelve classes. If there was any damage that Naotsugu couldn’t withstand, it was a sure bet that none of the other classes would be able to.
Which means… It really would be good to have a healer around. Still, I’d rather not pull someone else in just for efficiency’s sake. If we asked someone to join up with a motive like that, we might not be able to work together well. And anyway, even if something wipes us out, we’ll just get sent back to the town. But…
This world held the miracle of resurrection from death. Shiroe and the others knew that if they died they’d be resurrected in Akiba’s great temple. Even so, it didn’t make them feel like being reckless. Even if it came with a guarantee of recovery in this world, death was still abhorrent and impossible to accept.
The idea of coming back to life after dying is seriously creepy.
“My liege…?”
“Hey, Shiro. Let’s hurry up and get home.”
Several days had passed since the three of them had started traveling together, and the group dynamics were turning out to be far better than Shiroe had expected. Maybe each of them had only convinced themselves that they worked best on their own. Maybe they’d actually been suited to living like this.
That said, that very aptitude made their various personalities stand out in sharper relief. In this particular group, Shiroe naturally became the one who worried.
Of course, since I’ve been in charge of strategy ever since the Debauchery Tea Party, I guess that hasn’t changed…
Shiroe tended to involuntarily retreat into his own thoughts. Even he was aware that it might not be a good habit, but he didn’t feel as if it was something he really had to change.
I don’t mind being the guy who worries, he thought. I just don’t want to be the gloom-and-doom guy.
“All right. Let’s move out… Does anybody need more light?”
Shiroe was preparing his Magic Light spell as he spoke.
“No, my liege Shiro.”
“I don’t supposed you’d stop the ‘my liege’ business, would you? Just call me Shiroe. We’re friends, you know.”
“In that case, you call me Akatsuki, too. No Miss.”
Letting his request go nearly unacknowledged, Akatsuki stared at Shiroe.
That gaze of hers is just too much… Agh.
Personally, Shiroe thought Akatsuki was cute. Most people would probably call Akatsuki a lovely girl, even if they didn’t know her at all. Still, he couldn’t take that way she had of watching him fixedly with those dead-serious eyes. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her, not at all. It was just that she made him very uncomfortable.
Shiroe was a genuine indoors-type online gamer. He wasn’t one for socializing, and of course, he didn’t have an abundance of experience with the opposite sex.
I guess that’s just an excuse, though. When it comes down to it… Well, stuff like that makes me embarrassed and I’m bad at it, that’s all… I mean, how could I not be? Yeah. I know. Even I know, but still.
“My liege.”
As if to compound Shiroe’s confusion, Akatsuki stepped in front of him and called to him. The height difference was huge, and there was something terribly embarrassing about having her look up at him.
“Umm, er, what? —Hey, Naotsugu, quit smirking!”
Taking a verbal jab at Naotsugu, who was watching him and laughing, Shiroe motioned for Akatsuki to go on.
“I’ll act as a scout on the way home.”
“Why?”
“Practice. One of the special Assassin techniques is Night Vision, and I also have Sneak and Silent Move. I want to see how it feels to use them here. The forest will be the perfect place.”
As Akatsuki spoke, she glanced into the woods, where the dusk was already beginning to thicken, and refastened the black belt that held her sheathed short sword, getting ready.
Solo movement?
After giving it a little thought, Shiroe granted permission. This zone didn’t appear to have any monsters stronger than the two types they’d fought earlier. Akatsuki could fight them one-on-one and not lose, and even if they attacked in a group, she’d probably be able to run away. Besides, he understood her impulse to test the skills she had. She wanted to be able to enter future situations fully prepared. Having a solid grasp of their abilities was a prerequisite for survival.
“Just don’t get careless. Meet up with us again near the south gate. We’ll be using Magic Light, so come find us instead of the other way around.”
“Understood. If we’re in the same zone, I’ll know where you are.”
Individuals who’d joined a party and were in the same zone as other members could use angle and distance information to tell where those members were. They probably wouldn’t have any trouble meeting up again.
“See ya, short stuff.”
“Shut up, stupid Naotsugu.”
In the next instant, leaving that comeback behind her, Akatsuki melted into the trees.
“Not bad, short stuff.”
Naotsugu looked as if he might whistle in appreciation.
“I didn’t even hear leaves rustling.”
Shiroe shrugged, chanting the Magic Light spell. A magical glow about as bright as a regular lamp flickered to life at the tip of his staff. The sun wasn’t quite down yet, but the magic lamp cast a soft light in the forest’s dense undergrowth and deep orange dusk.
“We should head out, too.”
“Roger that, Counselor. Forward march, let’s book.”
Shiroe and Naotsugu started through the forest in a bubble of warm light, heading for the eastern gate. Crunching frost-damp ribbons of green grass underfoot, they followed a deer track littered with mossy rocks through the forest of
the Imperial Gardens.
It feels as if we’re deep in the forests of Yakushima or the Amazon, like the ones I saw on WebTV. People say this could be another world, but I dunno… It’s pretty hard to believe.
He could hear the faint, pleasant sound of insect chirps and clicks. The two of them parted the undergrowth as they advanced through the dark woods, Naotsugu sometimes using his longsword to cut through a particularly stubborn patch.
“So Akatsuki’s a Tracker, huh?”
At Naotsugu’s words, Shiroe remembered what Akatsuki had said. The special techniques she’d mentioned, Sneak and Silent Move, were Tracker abilities. Tracker was one of Elder Tales’s myriad subclasses, and it gave anyone who acquired it special abilities tailored to pursuit or tracking.
In Elder Tales, subclasses gave players convenient ability sets that weren’t directly related to combat. They were completely independent of the main twelve combat-related classes, and as long as they fulfilled the conditions, any Adventurer could acquire a wide range of subclasses, no matter what their main class was.
In general terms, subclasses could be divided into two basic types. One type included Chef, Tailor, Blacksmith, and Woodworker and other production-related subclasses. Players with these subclasses could create a wide variety of items by using facilities and the appropriate materials. Production-related subclasses were easy to acquire: All you had to do was purchase manuals from artisan non-player characters in the urban zones and then accumulate experience points in that line of work. This sort of experience was completely separate from combat experience, and although it took an extremely long time to advance to a high level, players didn’t have to complete any particular quest or acquire any special item to do so. If they were patient, anyone could improve to the top of their subclass, and it didn’t really require help from friends.
Shiroe’s subclass was Scribe. Scribe was a production-related subclass that let players copy maps, documents, and books of spells. Its tools were paper and pen, and it was basically desk work.
The other type was role-play related: Subclass examples included Aristocrat, Merchant, and Rose Garden Princess. Unlike the production subclasses, role-play subclasses didn’t allow players to create items, but they did grant several special abilities and unusual techniques, and they occasionally gave players special equipment. Akatsuki’s Tracker was one such subclass. It granted the abilities to move silently, follow enemies or other players, and make one’s presence impossible to detect.
Shiroe didn’t know all that much about Trackers. The twelve main classes that were directly related to combat had been designed down to the details by the huge American corporation that had developed Elder Tales, and their abilities were adjusted frequently. In contrast, several subclasses were added with each expansion pack, and some had been independently added by subcontractors such as Fushimi Online Entertainment, the company that administered the Japanese server.
Although there were only twelve main classes, Shiroe could think of more than fifty subclasses, and that was just off the top of his head. Taking into account the fact that other subclasses existed on different servers, there was really no telling how many there actually were.
Of course, the powerful, convenient subclasses tended to get talked about and people swarmed to acquire them, so they were easy to remember. That meant it was possible to have a decent grasp of the abilities those subclasses granted, but even veteran players like Shiroe didn’t know the abilities of all the minor subclasses.
In that jumble of good and bad, Tracker was a subclass that enjoyed modest recognition. It granted fairly convenient special abilities, but they weren’t the sort that players would use regularly or even frequently. This exquisite balance placed it solidly in the middle, on the line between the major and minor subclasses. Players who weren’t hard-core gamers like Shiroe might not know about it, but it was more famous than, say, Sailor or Janitor.
“She certainly knows how to specialize.”
Naotsugu guffawed and told Shiroe he had that right.
I mean, she’s an Assassin and a Tracker. She’s way too into this. With a combination like that, I’m not surprised she called herself a ninja.
He and Naotsugu had a good laugh over Akatsuki’s single-mindedness. The term “role-play” tended to be associated with ham acting, but when combined with her serious character, Akatsuki’s version suited her far too well.
“How does she look to you, Shiro? …Little Miss Short Stuff, I mean.”
“She’s very agile on the front lines. She has great concentration.”
It took a little while for Shiroe to find the words to answer the question Naotsugu hadn’t quite asked.
He was asking for Shiroe’s opinion of Akatsuki.
Shiroe’s personal opinion of Akatsuki was as high as ever. He’d sounded brusque simply because it embarrassed him to praise her.
“Forget about me. What about you, Naotsugu? Are things harder, easier…?”
“—Easier. Our kill-off speed is in a whole different league from what it was when it was just you and me,” Naotsugu said as he walked ahead of Shiroe. “Sometimes I’ll turn around to take on another monster and it’s dead already. She may be a midget, but she’s a tough midget.”
Naotsugu was a fundamentally frank, cheerful, sociable guy who could make friends with anybody in very little time. He did have a tendency to make off-color remarks, but Shiroe had a hunch that he did it at least partly on purpose to lighten the mood. Still, when it came to combat, he never gave praise he didn’t mean. Naotsugu would choose words that wouldn’t hurt the other person, but he wouldn’t lie. Compared to all the evaluations Shiroe could remember him giving in the past, the one he’d just given Akatsuki was very nearly perfect.
“Akatsuki says that changing her form shortened her reach and that she isn’t able to put much force behind her attacks. What do you think?”
“I wouldn’t know about the reach. I’ve never gone midget myself. With speed and agility like that, though, reach can’t be much of a handicap. Try taking one of those flying knee kicks. I swear she teleports. Even if you brace for it, she moves so fast you can’t track it.”
“I’ll pass on that, thanks.”
Naotsugu massaged his nose, as if the conversation had reminded him.
“If she says her attacks don’t have as much force behind them, I’d guess she’d know. The game system says gender doesn’t affect damage, but this is some other world, and maybe weight does add power to attacks… Or maybe it doesn’t. Either way, it’s a feeling, and only the person with the feeling knows what it feels like… Even then, though, you could make up for that lost power with a support spell, right? I mean, this is you we’re talking about.”
Naotsugu pushed some big, fernlike leaves up and out of the way as he spoke.
I guess he’s right about that… Maybe.
Of the twelve main classes in Elder Tales, three were Warrior types, three were Weapon Attack types, three were Recovery types, and three were Magic Attack types. Shiroe’s class, Enchanter, was one of the magic-user classes. Of the three, it was the one most specialized for support and tricky maneuvering, and it had all sorts of spells for reinforcing allies’ abilities. Keen Edge increased weapon attack power. Sewn-Bind Hostage was an attack spell that throttled the enemy with cursed brambles every time an ally’s weapon attack hit home. Mind Shock stunned the enemy’s astral body, paralyzing them for a set amount of time. Enchanters were unconventional magic users who contributed to victories by supporting their allies and controlling the situation.
“…Well… There’s that,” Shiroe answered awkwardly.
Enchanter was the least popular class in Elder Tales. It couldn’t have been valued less. Of course, Shiroe had chosen this class because he liked it, and he didn’t feel the need to apologize for it to anybody. No matter what anyone said, he thought Enchanters were useful and that they held great potential. Still, even Shiroe understood that Enchanters couldn’t perform at their bes
t when they worked alone.
Needing friends meant that Enchanters’ potential changed drastically depending on how well they got along with their companions. This wasn’t a class performance issue. When working with other people to achieve a goal, game system values weren’t a good measure of strength. Since Shiroe was fully aware of this, having someone tell him, “You’re fine the way you are,” and “It’s okay for you to be here,” made him feel terribly self-conscious. Being recognized for one’s skills as an Enchanter was the same as having someone acknowledge a person’s actual personality and relationships.
“…Listen. Shiro.”
“Hm?”
“Nothin’ specific, but…I don’t think you really need to hold back as much as you do.”
“Huh?”
Naotsugu had been walking in the lead, parting the underbrush, when he let those words fall. They were so far removed from what they’d been talking about earlier that Shiroe had no idea what he meant.
“…Like panties?”
“And you phrased that as a question because…?”
“Shiro, cute girls’ enigmatic triangles are always posing questions to the universe. Learn to listen, you moody closet perfect-pervert-storm!”
“Just how girl crazy do you think I am anyway?!”
Shiroe didn’t understand Naotsugu’s friendly advice, at least not then. All he could do was follow his receding back.
At that point, Shiroe was still only an Enchanter.
2
After Shiroe and Naotsugu met back up with Akatsuki, they crossed into the next zone. Naotsugu was tired from the day’s constant battling, but he was in a good mood. He turned and yelled back to the other two.
“Step it up, okay? The inn’s calling my name.”
The name of the zone was the Kanda Irrigation Canal. It was a ruin based on the Marunouchi train line in the real world and was currently inhabited by goblins, orcs, and other demihumans. That said, the levels of the goblins and orcs in this zone were in the low thirties, and they posed no threat to Shiroe’s group. With this much of a level difference, the monsters wouldn’t attack unless they had no other option.