by Nikita Thorn
Seeing that he was not talking to her, Chise left and started to make a small fire in front of the spirit shrine.
Seiki took a deep breath, waited for five minutes to pass, before opening the box beside him to reclaim his dagger and unpulled wooden sword once again.
The situation did not look good. With each death, he woke up with half health and energy, the former of which slowly replenished itself. Energy, however, barely ticked anymore now that he had entered Severe Fatigue, which was clogging his brain like a dark cloud on one of his bad days. And to make matters worse, he only had 54 minutes left until Absolute Fatigue. Seiki did not want to imagine how that would feel like.
Mitsuhiro of the Rogami Clan [Level 16], the ryoushi who had shot at Seiki earlier, joined his clan mate by the fire after a while and took a glance into the spirit shrine. “So he really came in. What did the guy do anyway?” he muttered. “Never seen Rieko that pissed. I said no, I was busy, and she almost bit off my head.”
Chise did not answer him, but stared straight at Seiki. “Your ninja friend coming for you again?” she asked. “I have something to settle with her.” Seiki remembered now that Itsuki had managed to get his dagger and all her poison bottles back, which must have meant she had killed Chise and looted.
Seiki could only sit and wait until his energy replenished, though at an excruciatingly slow rate. He really did not want to wait till Rieko got there, and the only way to avoid this was to do “it” as soon as possible—if he could only figure out what “it” was.
Chise and Mitsuhiro were both ranged damage dealers, and while that came with its own inconvenience, Seiki knew their instinct was to stand away from direct combat rather than come into close range. For their abilities to work, they also had to be able to see him, and this was why he should take advantage of the darkness before the day dawned.
The two Rogami members were sitting by the fire, made just far away enough from the spirit shrine so as to be out of range and not give Seiki the Fatigue-curing benefit. The ryoushi soon got bored and started carving arrows, but Chise seemed to be diligent in her duty and was watching him very closely.
“Step out of that spirit shrine and you’re dead,” she warned him.
The spirit shrine was slightly elevated, and Seiki sat down on the edge. Chise glared at him. But he was still considered to be in the spirit shrine and, since PVP was disabled, there was nothing she could do.
They sat in silence for a while, and as soon as Chise took a glance at her clan mate, Seiki dashed out and around the small wooden building.
“Hey!” Chise yelled.
He knew her Freeze had a good range, and that was why he was saving his Slide. When he felt the paralyzing effect, he broke out of it. Mitsuhiro the ryoushi had let loose Rapid Shots at him, which Seiki Upslashed, before sliding off once more out of Chise’s second Freeze.
Like he had expected, these people were not used to stepping in for close combat, and having mapped out the longest Slide possible, he was almost out of range.
Turning again, he Parried the incoming Focused Shot, which was charged and dropped his energy all at once. But Seiki did not need any more of it. With a whistle, Fubuki was by his side, and Seiki grabbed the front of the saddle as he prepared to leap up.
That was when a powerful Freeze hit him and the horse almost at once. Seiki collapsed as he lost control of his limbs again. Fubuki shook the effect off and ran off, and Seiki looked up to see the edge of a white and red kimono.
“How hard was it just to keep a Level 11 in a shrine?” Rieko yelled at Chise and Mitsuhiro, who were just catching up.
“Ronin are slippery,” muttered Chise.
Rieko scoffed, before turning her attention back to Seiki. “Nice try, boya.” She crouched down beside him and flipped him over to face her. “Unequip that Sheathed Blade. I’m still asking nicely, and you don’t want to make me angry.”
“You’re already angry,” said Seiki. He was not trying to be flippant, but there was actually no effective way to respond to her without being ambiguous.
Rieko pursed her lips and glanced at her clan mates. “Who wants the honor?”
“I do,” said Chise, a bit too eagerly, and Seiki held his breath as her Life Drain dragged him down into the darkness once more.
Absolute Fatigue was not a welcome thing to wake up to.
Seiki remembered that Fatigue got exponentially worse as you progressed down the degrees, and he now understood why everyone was so concerned about not reaching the last one. The first light of dawn was basking the forest around in a ghastly shade of pale gray, and there was an angry obake glaring at him from outside the spirit shrine. This kind of Fatigue finally felt like the real deal, like when he had trained too hard, and was completely spent, and would like nothing but a warm meal and bed, but perhaps without the exhausted satisfaction that came with it.
Death had reset his energy to half again, and Seiki knew he would not be getting more of it. He also hated the fact that he had to wait a full five minutes before he could even leave his spot on the mattress.
Seiki pushed himself up as Rieko stepped into the shrine. “You can end this, boya,” she said, calmly. “Give us the Sheathed Blade.”
“Who told you about it?” Seiki asked.
Rieko sat down beside him, studying his expression. “If you must know.” She produced a piece of paper from her chest pocket.
Mumei [Level 4]: (19 hours 41 minutes ago) Seiki – Level 18 Sheathed Blade – East Main Road – Tama Village.
Seiki had been right that their sole purpose was the blade, and the blood-locked box was just a bonus. Rieko seemed to want to ask questions, perhaps about the content of the blood-locked box, but decided not to. The piece of paper was hidden in his armguard, and not having found it, it was most likely that the Rogami Clan thought Renshiro had taken it.
“You know there’s nothing you can do right now,” said Rieko. “And Absolute Fatigue doesn’t feel too good, does it?”
She was smiling again, and Seiki decided he liked it much more when she was mad. Suddenly, she moved in very close, laying a cold hand on his arm, and Seiki’s instinct was to push her off. But that was perhaps interpreted as a violent act and Seiki found out he could not will it in a non-PVP zone. Unable to get up yet, he turned away from her.
“Let go,” he said. She did not, but brushed her cold fingers over his skin. Slowly, Seiki grabbed her wrist and freed himself as gently as he could, relieved that he could at least do this.
“I see why Renshiro likes you,” Rieko said. “You are as stubborn as he is. However, there is no way you can win this one, boya.”
Seiki said nothing.
“Did Renshiro tell you about his little vacation in Kano Castle?” asked Rieko.
Seiki was perhaps a bit too distraught to be truly interested, and Rieko began, “The Jigokuryu were a young clan, and they were doing well.” She paused. “Took a village from us, actually. Until one day they thought they could challenge a Kano Castle village.”
Rieko laughed. “They did decently well in that battle, but there’s no fighting against the Talon on the battlefield. Renshiro was a hot-head back then and went to challenge them on their doorstep, and they nicely agreed to invite him in for a negotiation. Turned out they kept him there for a very long time and, since he was a ranked member of the clan, they offered him a deal: give up one of the five villages the Crimson Pine Mansion held, and the Jigokuryu could keep their clan territory. What did Renshiro say? Ronin’s favorite word: no. A week later, when they let him go, Crimson Pine Mansion had fallen. And most of the Jigokuryu members were gone by then, tripping over themselves to undo their clan oath to avoid being hunted down.”
“And you took that opportunity to invade the Fuoka Army,” said Seiki.
“Oh, so you do know a bit of history.” Rieko smiled at him. “So that’s a little cautionary tale for you, boya. There’s nothing you can prove here by being stubborn. Absolut
e Fatigue isn’t going to fix itself, and you ever tried fighting through it? I can tell you it’s not pleasant.”
Seiki turned to look at her in defiance.
“But you’re still going to try, aren’t you?” The obake got back to her feet. “Suit yourself,” she said, as she walked out.
From outside, Seiki could still hear her voice. “Oh, there you are, Kojiro.”
Then she said, a bit louder and perhaps to make sure Seiki could understand, “Call me when you finally break his spirit. It might take a while.”
With a whistle and the rustling sounds of the shadow horse, Rieko presumably left the premises. Kojiro, who had just arrived, looked in, took a mildly interested glance around the shrine, before turning his delighted attention to Seiki. “Come out and play if you want,” said the samurai with a grin. “Ready when you are.”
Chapter 17
There was perhaps really nothing to prove, except how bad things could get. Absolute Fatigue, which made Seiki feel like he had to struggle just to lift his limbs, was already terrible enough on its own, and Seiki was not really sure why he had to put himself through such misery. But then again, he had this feeling that he needed to know that no matter what happened, and what indignity they threw at him, there would still be something they could not completely take away.
Rieko had been right about one thing: he was stubborn. His folks never wanted him to get into martial arts, saying there was no future in it. And although he never openly argued with them, at fourteen, he went out to stock shelves and sweep floors until he could pay for it himself. They finally relented, but perhaps they had been right all along that there was no future in what he did, and maybe all his efforts had been completely misguided. Whether intentionally or not, whether it was his fault or not, he had somehow gotten himself into this terrible mess. And he was going to get out of it. Even without the slightest clue how, all he could do was try.
And try was exactly what Seiki did.
He kept trying, and that probably gave Kojiro the happiest day of his life. With only half his energy each time, there was nothing effective Seiki could do. His Slides were not enough to get him very far and, even if he managed to call in Fubuki, Kojiro had much more energy to catch up. The Rogami member was always ready to practice his Mounted Strike, which—with the Oni Cleaver—cut both rider and horse in a way that still shocked Seiki after the third time. Even when Seiki succeeded in spooking Kojiro’s horse off in one of his later attempts and locking the man out of his mount, the Rogami ryoushi who was hanging around was still more than eager to shoot him down.
Seiki soon found himself waking up in the spirit shrine for the eighth consecutive time, feeling the full effect of Absolute Fatigue weighing down on him. He had to groan and bury his face in his hands as he tried to clear his head. His eyes were heavy, his brain felt heavy, and his whole body felt as if it was made of lead. He was not sure if there were even more hidden degrees within Absolute Fatigue, but it certainly felt as if it was getting worse.
“Ganked?” someone whispered.
He was not alone. Seiki turned and saw Mukuro of the Lakeside Campers [Level 15] staring at him in shock. This was the same man he had met earlier in this very spirit shrine.
Mukuro’s eyes were wide as he studied Seiki’s torn armor. “Should I call the Rangers?”
From the front of the shrine, Kojiro poked his head in.
Mukuro took a look at the samurai, then back at Seiki, before whispering hastily, “Rogami?”
“You wanna stay out of clan business, camper.” Kojiro gave Mukuro a warning look, before walking back out toward the fire.
“Can’t help you here,” Mukuro said to Seiki, apologetically. “There’s only me, my brother and his friend in our clan, you see, and he would kill me if we get into trouble with Rogami. But if there’s anything…”
Seiki simply shook his head. Mukuro shrugged. “Well, I’m back to farming those killer fish, so I might be here again soon. I’ll ask my brother what he thinks.”
The man disappeared out the shrine and Seiki inhaled deeply as he forced himself to get up once more. In what felt very much like a recurring nightmare, he walked to the edge of the spirit shrine again and peered out.
Mitsuhiro, the ryoushi, was still sitting by the fire. “Want to talk to Rieko now?” When Seiki did not answer, the man sighed. “For my sake. Come on. I’ve been here all day.”
Kojiro was still in high spirits and he was swinging his Oni Cleaver around as he tried to get Seiki’s blood off his blade.
Seiki said nothing as he sat down on the edge of the shrine again and observed his surroundings. The morning was glorious now, but the Wilderness seemed empty and he was in no mood to appreciate it. Seiki spotted a few climbable trees beyond the small clearing, and he supposed he could try that, but that would most likely be within range of Focused Shot. Seiki’s body was protesting at the thought, and soon his spirit was starting to protest too, as a tiny bit of despair started to creep in. He was not sure how long he would be able to keep doing this, especially when there was no end in sight.
But all he had to do was try, and now at least he knew which eight combinations of moves did not work.
Seiki made another run, and this time it got him as far as the edge of the clearing near the back of the shrine. He managed to dodge Kojiro’s Mounted Strike and hit the man’s horse, before Mitsuhiro’s Rapid Shots brought him down. Without enough energy to Upslash, the arrows were instantly lethal.
Absolute Fatigue was not something to take lightly. After yet another attempt, where he managed to reach the tree line—but only because Kojiro had accidentally dropped his horse whistle—, Seiki’s mind was so exhausted now that he was not sure if his concentration was slipping. Or if they had delayed his reaction time by about half a second, making it very difficult to dodge even a single arrow.
It was hopeless and, as much as Seiki fought to hide it, soon even Kojiro started to notice his growing despair.
The samurai was obviously enjoying this too much to let it end. “Want a five second head start?” asked Kojiro, perhaps to try and keep him motivated just enough.
Seiki was not sure why he was still doing it. The smart thing would have been to log out and simply wait, but he felt he had unfinished business here that he could not walk away from. Perhaps his whole life had been misled, and if that was the case, he would pay all his dues right now and be done with it.
“Go on,” said Kojiro, as Seiki took a step down from the spirit shrine. The samurai was still sitting on the ground with his back against a tree. He made no effort to reach for his Oni Cleaver lying beside him. “Run. I’ll really give you five seconds.”
Despite knowing that it was not going to work, Seiki could not let go of an opportunity. Some things were just drilled way too deep, and even when your body was screaming in pain and your brain was no longer working as the opponent beat down on you, you still had a chance, and if you decided to give up, then you had nothing.
Seiki took off.
The best option so far had been to run around the spirit shrine and try to make it to the first trees thirty feet away. Five seconds was a long time, and Kojiro seemed to be keeping his promise. Seiki whistled for Fubuki, but Mitsuhiro had made no such promises and he was instantly on his feet. The ryoushi made a dash after Seiki and, as the snowstepper appeared, he aimed his Rapid Shots. Seiki turned to Upslash, but one managed to graze the horse, and she ran off.
“Kojiro!” said Mitsuhiro in anger. “You think this is funny?”
On foot, Seiki had made it halfway to the tree line, before the five seconds was up, and hooves started clicking behind him. By now, Seiki had learned to recognize that every horse sounded a little different. This was Kojiro’s black mount, with its wide gait, and Seiki did not have to glance over his shoulder to know the man probably was going for his Mounted Strike, which had now become his favorite move. Frantically scanning the wilderness around for any sign of the
main road, Seiki could only perceive an endless sea of trees in every direction.
He kept running, yet he knew it was impossible to outrun a horse, and he did not have the two minutes required before he could call for Fubuki again. At least, once there would be trees around, he would have a better chance at trying to dismount the man. His mind screamed at him that he was just fooling himself and that it was entirely useless. Mitsuhiro was already on his horse, and Seiki could hear the ryoushi’s mount drawing closer.
That was when Seiki spotted a nameless old man with a heavy sack on his back.
Seiki strained his eyes through his blurry vision just to make sure. The old man was making his way very slowly through the growth, swinging his walking stick around in rhythm, and pausing to look around every few seconds.
Kojiro was closing in on him from behind. Seiki gauged the old man’s pace for as long as he could, before turning around, sliding backward and drawing his dagger to Parry the samurai’s Mounted Strike—which was more than enough to drop his health below a tenth. After so many of these, Seiki had learned how to throw himself into an immediate Slide out of there before completely collapsing, and his second Slide shot him past Kojiro in the opposite direction.
“Parry doesn’t work,” said Kojiro, laughing as he turned his horse around. “When will you understand?”
Seiki ran back. He had also learned now that if he had to choose his death, taking a charged Focused Shot was much better than the Oni Cleaver. So, he broke off to the left of the spirit shrine, pressuring Mitsuhiro to shoot him, and gritting his teeth as the arrow pierced deep into his chest.
Seiki woke again, and he kept his eyes closed as he kept a mental image of the area around as clear as possible in his mind. As soon as the dizziness left him, Seiki opened the box, and grabbed his weapons.
In his later attempts, as things grew more and more desperate, Seiki had given himself time to breathe between each death, and Kojiro had luckily gotten used to that. The samurai had ridden back to the fire and was having an argument with his clan mate. “I could have taken care of that,” the samurai was saying. The ryoushi was standing a bit further away, his bow still in his hand.