Sword Art Online - Volume 1 - Aincrad

by Reki Kawahara

  The short line was crossed mercilessly over the boy’s name two minutes later. The reason of death was «Falling in midair». I didn’t even want to imagine what he went through during those two minutes. There was no way of knowing if he had returned to the real world or—as Kayaba had said—had had his brain fried. But, most people believed that if there was such a simple way of escaping the game; the people outside would have already pulled the plugs and saved us.

  But there were still some who gave in to this easy way of dealing with things. Most people, including me, found it hard to take the «Death» in SAO in as reality.

  That had still not changed. The phenomenon of the HP bar reaching zero and the polygons that consisted our bodies being destroyed was too much like the «Game Over» that we were all too familiar with. It was probable that the only way to understand the real meaning of death in SAO would be to experience it yourself. This shaky truth would have been the reason that the decrease in players slowed.

  On the other hand, a lot of the players who were part of «The Army», especially the ones who had first belonged to the first group, started losing their lives while trying to clear the game and fighting monsters.

  Fights in SAO needed a bit of getting used to. It was less like trying to force yourself to move but «entrusting» your movements to the system.

  For example, even for a simple uppercut with a one-handed sword, if the player learned the «One-handed Sword Skill» and then equipped «Uppercut» from the list they would only need to assume the starting motion then the system would almost automatically move their body for them. But if someone without the skill tried to copy the movements it would be too slow and weak to use in actual combat. It was like inputting commands in a fighting game.

  The people who didn’t adjust to this just swung their swords around and even lost to the boars and wolves that they would be able to beat if they used the single strike skills that they had on as default. Even then, if they just gave up and ran away after losing some of their HP they wouldn’t have died but—

  Unlike the attacks of 2D monsters that we see through a monitor screen, the battles in SAO were so real that you feel afraid. It was as if a real monster was baring its teeth at you and giving chase with the intention of killing you.

  Even during the beta testing there were some people who panicked in the middle of a fight, but now death awaited you if you lost. The panic-stricken players forgot about using their skills and even running away, their HP disappeared and they were expelled from this world forever.

  Suicide, losing to monsters. The number of crossed out names multiplied at a terrifying pace.

  When these reached two thousand, one month into the game, a cloud of despair hung over the surviving players. If the number of deaths kept increasing at this speed, all ten thousand would be dead in less than half a year. Clearing the hundredth floor seemed like a mere dream.

  But—humans adapt.

  A little over a month later, the first labyrinth was cleared and the number of deaths started to slow quickly. People started spreading information in order to survive and most people started to perceive that monsters weren’t all that scary if you gained enough experience points and leveled up properly.

  It might be possible to clear the game and return to the real world. The number of players that started thinking like that increased slowly, but steadily.

  The top floor was still far away, but the players started moving with this vague hope—and the world started turning again.

  Now, two years later and with twenty six floors left, the number of survivors is around six thousand.

  This is the current situation in Aincrad.

  Chapter 5

  After ending my fight with a formidable enemy that prowled the «Labyrinth Area» of floor seventy-four, I recounted my way back, as well as the past, and let out a sigh of relief as I saw the light of the entrance.

  I emptied my head, walked quickly out of the passageway, and took a deep breath of the fresh, clean air.

  In front of me, a narrow lane went into the thick, overgrown forest. Behind me, the labyrinth area I had just come out of soared high into the sky—until the bottom of the next floor to be more precise.

  Because the game was based on getting to the top of the castle, the dungeons in this world weren’t underground labyrinths but existed as towers. However, the basic setting hadn’t changed: monsters stronger than the ones you met out on the fields roamed within, while the boss monster waited for you in its deepest reaches.

  Right now, eighty percent of the seventy-fourth floor labyrinth area had been explored, or in other words, had been «mapped». In a couple of days, the boss room would most probably be discovered, and a large-scale team would be made. Then, even I, a solo player, would take part.

  I smiled at myself for feeling both expectant and frustrated at the same time and started walking down the lane.

  For the moment, my hometown is the biggest city in Aincrad, «Algade», which was located on the fiftieth floor. Well, in mere size, the Starting City was larger, but that place had now totally become «The Army»’s base of operations, so it was a little uncomfortable to walk around in.

  As soon as I made it out of the now darkening plains, a forest full of old trees stretched out before me. If I walked for thirty minutes through there, I would arrive at the «Housing Area» of the seventy-fourth floor and just use the «Teleport Gate» there to warp myself over to Algade.

  I could always use one of the instant teleportation items in my inventory to return to Algade at any time. But since it was a little expensive, I was reluctant to use it unless I was in a dangerous situation. There was still some time before the sun disappeared completely, so I resisted the temptation of returning to my house as fast as I could and entered the forest.

  As a rule, the edges of each floor in Aincrad were usually open to the sky, apart from the support pillars. The trees burned red from the light that entered through that gap. The mist that flowed in between the rays of light shone brilliantly as it reflected the light of the sunset. The cries of the birds, which were common during the day, were hard to hear now, while the sound of branches swaying in the wind seemed magnified.

  I knew quite well that I could fight the monsters that appeared in this area even while half-asleep, but the fear that comes with the dark was hard to suppress. A feeling, similar to the one I had as a kid when I was trying to get back home after losing my way, filled me.

  But I didn’t dislike this feeling. I had forgotten about this primitive fear sometime when I was living back on the other side. The feeling of loneliness that you get when you’re traveling the wilderness with nobody in sight however much you look—you could call this the essence of an RPG.

  While I was absorbed in these nostalgic memories, a cry that I’d never heard before suddenly entered my ears.

  It sounded only for a moment, high and clear like a reed pipe. I stopped my feet and carefully searched for the direction the sound came from. If you heard or saw something that you’d never experienced before in this world, it meant that you were either very lucky or the opposite.

  As a solo player, I’d trained my «Scan for Enemy» skill. This skill prevented ambushes and when you became more proficient at it, it gave the player the additional ability of being able to detect monsters that were in “hiding.” Through it, I could see a monster hiding between the branches ten meters away.

  It wasn’t very big. It had green fur to camouflage itself in the leaves and had ears longer than its body. As I concentrated on it, it automatically became my target and a yellow cursor appeared along with its name.

  I held my breath as soon as I read the name: «Ragout Rabbit». It was rare enough to earn the adjective “super.”

  It was the first time I’d actually seen the real thing. The plump rabbit that lived in the branches wasn’t all that strong, nor did it give you that many experience points, but-

  I silently drew a thin throwing pick from my belt. My «
Knife Throwing Skill» wasn’t all that high. I had simply chosen it as a branch on my skill tree at some point. But I’d heard that the Ragout Rabbit was the fastest monster among the ones that were currently known, so I didn’t really have much confidence in catching it with my sword.

  I had one chance to attack before the opponent noticed me. I raised my pick, praying mentally, and assumed the «Single Shot» position.

  Well, however low my skill was, my hand was backed up by my high dexterity and threw the pick in a blur of motion. The pick glinted once and then was sucked into the trees. As soon as I attacked, the cursor, which showed the direction the Ragout Rabbit was in, turned red and the HP bar appeared beneath it.

  A high pitched scream sounded from the direction which I’d thrown my pick. The HP bar faltered a little and then went down to 0. The familiar sound of polygons shattering resounded.

  I made a fist with my left hand. I raised my right hand and opened the main menu. I opened the inventory quickly, with even my hand movements seeming too slow to me, and it was there at the very top of the newly acquired item list: «Ragout Rabbit’s meat». It was a rare item that could be sold to other players at a minimum price of one hundred thousand Coll. That amount of money was enough to tailor a full set of the best armor and still have change leftover.

  The reason that this was so expensive was pretty simple, as it was set as the most delicious food ingredient among the numerous ingredients available in the game.

  Eating was just about the only pleasure in SAO, but the only thing you could eat usually was the soup and bread that tasted as if they were from the European countryside—well not that I knew; but the fact was that it was plain. A few players who had trained their cooking skill had established this after a lot of thought in order to let the other players eat a wider range of foods. But even this wasn’t that easy to get across, so as a rule the players were all deprived of taste.

  Of course, my current situation wasn’t much different, and I didn’t dislike the soup and full wheat bread the NPC restaurant that I frequented sold. But from time to time the need to eat at least a mouthful of juicy meat overtook me.

  For a while I stared at the name of the item and kept wondering what to do. The chances of me getting this sort of ingredient again were very low. To be honest, I really wanted to eat it. But the higher the ingredients’ rank, the more skill was needed to actually cook it. So I had to find a master level cook to cook this for me.

  But I didn’t know any. Well, I did know a few, but hunting them down for something like this was annoying. Even more than that, it was about time I got a new set of equipment. Consequently, I decided to sell it.

  I closed the window as if to get rid of any regrets, and scanned the area with my skill. There wasn’t a very high chance of a bandit appearing on the front lines, but you couldn’t be too careful when you had an S-class item in your hands.

  I’d be able to buy all the teleport items I wanted once I sold this, so I decided to minimize the risk involved and started rummaging through my pouch.

  The thing that I’d taken out was a crystal shaped like an eight sided pillar that shone a rich blue. The few magic items in this world where «Magic» had been excluded were all shaped like gems. Blue was for instant teleportation, pink for recovering HP, green for antidotes, and so on. They were all convenient items that produced instant effects, but they were also expensive. So in most cases people used cheaper items such as slow-acting potions after running away from a fight.

  Telling myself that this was, without a doubt, an emergency situation, I grasped the blue crystal and shouted.

  “Teleport! Algade!”

  There was the refreshing sound of many bells ringing and the crystal in my hand shattered into pieces. At the same time, my body was engulfed in blue light and the forest disappeared from my vision as if it was melting. A brighter light then flashed, and when it disappeared, the teleportation was over. In place of the sound of the rustling leaves, the sound of a smith hammering and the loud sounds of the city invaded my ears.

  The place I appeared at was the «Teleport Gate» that was situated in the middle of Algade.

  In the middle of the circular plaza, a gate made out of metal stood over five meters high. Inside, the air swirled as if a mirage, and people who were teleporting, or who had just teleported, came and went.

  Four large roads stretched in all four directions out of the plaza, and on the sides of all these roads, countless small shops were gathered. The players who sought a short refuge after a day of exploring shared conversations in front of the food menus or pubs.

  If someone tried to describe Algade in one word, it would be «messy».

  There were no big streets like the ones you could see in the Starting City and crisscrossing alleyways covered the whole city. There were shops that you couldn’t even tell what they were selling, and inns that looked like you could never get back out once you went in.

  Actually, there were a lot of players who’d accidentally gone into one of the alleyways of Algade and wandered for days before getting back out. I’ve been living here for almost a year now, but I still can’t remember half of them. Even the NPCs here were strange people whose class was hard to guess, and it makes you think that people who use this as a hometown these days are all sort of strange.

  But I liked the feel of these streets. It wasn’t an exaggeration to say that the only time I felt at peace was when I was sipping some strange smelling tea at a corner shop I frequented. The reason behind this was that I felt a little sentimental because it reminded me of an electronics store I used to frequent—well not really, or I hoped not.

  Thinking that I’d deal with the item before going back to my house, I started walking towards a shop.

  If I followed the road that led west out of the central plaza, I would arrive at the shop after working my way through the crowds for a little bit. Inside, it was so small that five players would feel cramped in there, and it had the trademark dizziness of a player shop: the tools, weapons, and even food ingredients were mixed up.

  The shop owner was busily getting worked up bargaining.

  There are two ways of selling items. One was selling to an NPC, a character controlled by the system. There was no danger of being tricked but the price was always the same. To stop inflation, the price was set lower than the actual market price.

  The other was trading with another player. In this case, you could sell the item for a high price if you bargained well, but you had to find someone to buy it, and arguments between the players after completing the trade weren’t uncommon.

  Therefore, merchant players who specialized in trading items appeared.

  Merchant players couldn’t live on trading itself. Like the technician classes, they had to fill half of their skill slots with battle unrelated skills. But that didn’t mean that they could stay off the fields. Merchants had to fight for goods and technicians for ingredients, and, of course, they had a harder time than warriors. It was hard for them to feel the exhilarating feeling of beating an enemy.

  Therefore, the reason that they chose these classes would be the noble one of helping the players who fought on the front lines every day. So I respected them deeply, if secretly.

  …well, I respected them, but it was also true that the character in front of me was someone who was very far from self-sacrificing.

  “Okay, it’s settled! Twenty-five «Dust Lizard’s hides» for five hundred Coll!”

  The owner of this shop I often came to, Egil, thumped his bargaining opponent, a weak looking spearman, on the back with his thick arm. Then he quickly opened the trade window and entered the amount in his trade list.

  The opponent seemed to be thinking, but as soon as he viewed Egil’s face, which looked frightening enough to resemble one of a seasoned warrior—in fact, Egil was a top class axe warrior as well as a merchant—he hurried to put the items in his trade list and pressed OK.

  “Thank you every time! Please visit again!”


  Egil thumped the spearman’s back one last time and smiled brightly. The hide of the Dusk Lizard could be used to create high standard armor. I thought that five hundred was too cheap however you looked at it. But I stayed silent and watched the spearman leave. Take this as a lesson to never give any ground when bargaining, I muttered in my mind.

  “Hey, you’re going about your business shamelessly as usual.”

  The bald giant looked my way and smiled when I said this behind him.

  “Hey, Kirito. Our shop’s motto is to buy cheap and sell cheap,” he said without any sign of remorse.

  “Well, I’m a little suspicious about the ‘sell cheap’ bit but that doesn’t matter. I want to sell you something too.”

  “You’re a regular, so I can’t trick you. Well, let’s see…”

  As he said this, Egil stretched his thick, short neck and looked in the trade window that I’d offered.

  The avatars in SAO were all replicas of the player’s real body which had been created through scans and calibrations. But every time I looked at Egil, I always asked myself how someone could have a body that fit him so well.

  All 180 centimeters of his body were packed with muscle and fat, and the head that rested on top of it looked as if it’d fit a pro-wrestler villain. On top of that, he had set his hairstyle, one of the few things that could be customized, to be bald. The effect was at least as scary as the barbarian monsters.

  Despite that, he had a charming face that looked childlike when he smiled. He looked in his late twenties but I couldn’t even guess what he did in the real world. Not asking others about «The other side» was an unspoken rule in this world.

  The two eyes that were below his thick eyebrows widened as soon as he saw the trade window.

  “Wow, it’s an S-rank rare item. «Ragout Rabbit’s meat», it’s the first time I’ve actually seen one… Kirito you’re not that poor are you? Don’t you have any thoughts of eating this?”