by Nikita Thorn
Seiki only now turned his attention to the notifications:
Kogumo, Corrupted Divine Beast of the West Gate slain! 1,744 XP gained.
You are now free of the Curse of Dying Shadows!
Festival Achievement earned: Keeper of the West Gate! 250 XP gained.
“Not bad, I guess?” Seiki said out loud to himself, grimacing as the experience crept only a tiny bit closer to the next level.
The revive point was apparently somewhere over at the end of the instance down the West side of Trade Street. Quite a few players, who had presumably died earlier in the last stage of the encounter, were walking back toward the carcass of the beast to take a better look, and light conversation was starting to pick up. Seiki struggled to free himself from the rubble. Considering the effort it took, he thought the man was perhaps right and it would have been easier to die and resurrect.
It was a strange sight. Trade Street was thrashed almost beyond recognition. In front of the shattered shops, Festival stalls had been demolished into piles of strangely colorful debris, with torn banners and flags and damaged goods visible among the broken bricks. From the edges of the instance, Shinshioka Patrols and NPC Festival Volunteers were rushing in to clear away the damage. Somehow the scene surprised him. No matter how big a brawl was, the City itself had never suffered beyond mild scratches on the walls, and that had always given the place a feeling of permanence.
Seiki finally pushed himself up into a sitting position as he looked around for his friends, using his left hand that still had some feeling left to grab a health potion from his inventory. It turned out to be unnecessary, as a second later, a wave of Heal filled his health, warm, powerful and almost honey-like.
He turned around to thank the houshi, then broke into a relieved grin.
Standing by the dead Kogumo was Miya [Level 25], the outlaw houshi. In the same manner she never seemed to quite belong with the rest of her outlaw group, now she did not seem to belong in front of a backdrop of a deceased demonic monster. Her light green kimono was perfectly neat, her fan-shaped metal pin holding up her hair in a perfect short ponytail. She looked like someone who had come out to Shinshioka for tea and cake, not someone who had just been in combat with a giant spider.
“Thanks,” said Seiki. “I’ve been hoping to see you.”
Miya smiled. “Nice to see you, too, Seiki. Satoru told me you were around. So, Level 15 already? That’s fast.”
“Oh, uh, thanks.” Seiki was not entirely sure what level he had been when he last saw her.
Miya let out a little laugh. “You really always give it everything you’ve got, don’t you?” She was most likely referring to the state of his armor, which had taken quite a few scrapes and had not finished mending itself. “Even in a casual event like this.”
Seiki wondered what kind of event she would consider serious, but then he supposed being Level 25 made a big difference on how she experienced the encounter. Before he could say anything else, he was interrupted by three refreshing bouts of the kitsune Spirit Mend.
“Oh, you’re already full,” said Mairin. The kitsune was making her way toward him, leaping lightly across a broken monster leg. Part of her white kimono was drenched in the monster’s dark blood, which had yet to fade away, but she did not appear injured.
“I had no idea where you were,” she said. “It was a bit crazy, and can you believe that even at the end people still didn’t realize you couldn’t stand in the sun?” She shook her head, then noticed Miya and smiled. “Oh, hey, thanks for earlier. Awesome heals, and I didn’t know you could boost the foxes like that. What level is that again?”
“It’s a houshi Free Slot, and my pleasure.” The outlaw houshi smiled from the corner of her mouth. “I practice with reckless people on a daily basis. So, uh, well…” Her expression clouded over as she spotted something further away, and her eyes narrowed by a tiny bit in annoyance. The slight frown, however, lasted only for a second, before her smile quickly returned. “The rest will unfortunately have to wait. See you around, you two.”
“Wait,” cried Seiki as Miya turned to leave. “I really need to talk to Renshiro.”
“We’ll find you,” Miya whispered, almost inaudibly, one hand raised in an apologetic gesture. And then she was gone in a whisk of green kimono, disappearing behind the dead Kogumo before Seiki could ask her to repeat whatever place name Satoru had earlier indicated as the outlaw’s current campground.
“Haru...” said Seiki, then he cursed. “It’s Haru-something, for sure.”
Mairin was still looking in the direction of the houshi. “Renshiro? Oh, okay, she’s one of your elusive outlaw friends.”
“Elusive is about right.” Seiki sighed. “Did you happen to get her alternative post address or something when you were… healing together?”
Mairin giggled, and after a second Seiki realized it was not because of his freshly-coined concept of healing together.
Seiki’s eyes widened. “No, it’s not like that. I need to talk to Renshiro, and they apparently don’t do post pigeons.”
Her eyes still sparkling with amusement, the kitsune shook her head, and Seiki turned to look for the cause of Miya’s hasty departure.
Standing in a small group near the head of the dead Kogumo and conversing quietly among themselves were several high-level players: a man with a longsword, Hiroto of the Tamiya Tigers [Level 26], and Manabu of the Kiyosei Temple [Level 28] and his clan mate Oshin of the Kiyosei Temple [Level 25], plus two more players who were slightly out of range whose labels did not appear.
None of them appeared to be looking their way, and Seiki could not possibly guess who or what Miya had tried to avoid.
“Eta,” said Ippei’s voice from behind him. “Kyouhou Archers.”
At first Seiki thought his friend was answering his question, but the samurai, walking to join him and Mairin, was apparently looking the other way down Trade Street, a thoughtful expression on his face.
The object of Ippei’s attention turned out to be a rider in black, galloping in the direction of the East Gate, his slim longsword strapped across his back. He was now too far for his label to appear, but Seiki recognized the horse from the small bursts of fire under its feet.
“That’s… a firestepper?” Seiki had never seen one, but it was obvious what it was. The effect was much more pronounced than Fubuki’s faint snowy effect around her hooves, and it was certainly drawing attention.
“Nice horse,” said Mairin. “That’s like Fubuki, right? But fire and not snow.”
“I think so,” said Seiki. Steppers were quite rare, and apart from the small efficiency boost in terms of energy, they were not that different from other standard horses, and so not a lot of people sought them out either.
“Well, that’s certainly a fashion statement.” Mairin laughed as she casually sent out Spirit Mend to random people who happened to be in range, some of whom returned a smile or wave. She nodded at the rider. “So, you know him, Ippei? Oh, wait, there’s Yamura. Hey, I sent my healing foxes your way but I’m not sure if any of them got to you. Did you die?” she raised her voice.
The ryoushi was making his way toward the group from behind a circle of Social Guild players. “No. Almost, but luckily no. The monster missed. But I’m out of arrows again.”
“Did you see those foxes, though!” said Mairin.
Ippei’s attention was still on the owner of the black firestepper. “He was the guy who started the whole burst phase with his ridiculous stacking. That was six of them, I think. Did you see that?” he turned to ask Seiki.
“Yeah. That turned the tide.”
Ippei nodded. “I think we would have beaten it anyway, since you can infinitely run back from the revive point. But that flash…” He let out a chuckle. “Anyway, did any of you figure out how the stacking worked on those power tiles?”
Seiki shook his head. “I got two of the power-up tiles, but not close together, and I used both of th
em straightaway.” It was not as if he had any other option on the second one.
“I got them to stack once,” said Yamura, who had now reached the group, and who was once again looking wistfully at his empty quiver. “Not sure how. Maybe you have to hit them quick, like, within five seconds?”
“Yeah, maybe,” said Ippei, who was still watching the rider.
“Oh, that guy,” said Yamura. “Okay, how do you get that mount? It would be a set with this fire armguard. Maybe I should start building a fire set.”
“The fire’s the wrong shade,” said Mairin.
To his surprise, Seiki found he was thinking the exact same thing. The fire under the horse’s hooves was a warmer, gentler fireplace orange than the more vibrant reddish flames on Yamura’s Firerat Fur Armguard.
The man had now turned Trade Street’s slightly northward bend and disappeared from sight. Ippei shook his head in amusement. “Well… Kyouhou Archers of all people.”
The clan name was unfamiliar, and Seiki failed to see the significance. “What about them?”
“Archers,” said Ippei. “The guy’s a samurai. I didn’t know the Kyouhou Archers accepted anyone outside the class.”
“What, it’s a ryoushi-only clan?” said Mairin. “Isn’t that kinda pointless?”
“Hey,” said Yamura.
“You’ll understand when you see what they do over there,” said Ippei.
Mairin raised an eyebrow. “And what do they do over there?”
“Extreme sports,” said Ippei. “Allegedly.”
“What?” said Mairin.
“What?” said Yamura. “How?”
“I have no idea. And you’re the only one who can join them and find out.” The samurai chuckled as he bent down to pick up a small piece of black carapace that had broken off the Kogumo. “But now it’s time to claim our reward. Don’t forget yours.”
“Oh, this is like that giant skeleton world boss?” said Seiki as he picked up a random jagged piece from the ground and rose to his feet, wondering how many Tokens it was worth. He looked at Ippei and grinned. “I’m really liking the Festival now.”
Surprisingly, Ippei had on a solemn expression. “This came just a bit too soon,” said the samurai quietly, as if to himself. “I was hoping that we’d be more ready for it, but then again maybe you’ll never be ready and ready is now.”
“Ready for what?” asked Mairin.
The samurai shook his head, perhaps unwilling to speculate out loud, but Seiki suddenly understood. Perhaps what his friend had meant to get at was: change. Things might not be as static and permanent as they appeared, and it was both exciting and terrifying.
Ippei shrugged off his musing with a chuckle. “I guess as long as we get to fight demons, I’m good.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Even with the Festival permeating every corner of Shinshioka, South City still managed to retain much of its original character, a kind of peaceful, tucked-away charm that made visitors unconsciously slow their pace. Vendor stalls were much sparser, and some smaller alleys remained for the most part unchanged by the event, save for a few decorative flags and posters. Seiki noted that the signs here spelled out instructions much more clearly, too, perhaps in consideration of the area’s lower-level populace. One particular stall was advertising for help and openly promised one Festival Token for fifteen minutes of your time, while another showed step-by-step illustration of how to put together a Festival firework rocket.
Being familiar with where the Crafters’ Guild was located, Mairin was leading them down South City’s complicated backroads, and the short journey took them past old shops and slow-flowing canals and more weeping willows than Seiki remembered. What suddenly struck him was the age of South City’s structures. The carvings on many of the stone bridges had worn away. Wooden shop signs seemed to have been painted over many times, leaving traces of their older version like shadowy ghosts from a distant past. Thinking back, Seiki realized he had skipped much of Shinshioka’s starting zone. For the first time, he was convinced this part of the city was older than the rest, a native settlement, perhaps a farming village, from which the remainder of the city eventually grew, and now South City looked on the Festival with a kind of mild amusement, like an elderly grandparent watching a child indulge in present-time whims. He wondered if such history was intended as part of the design or if it was just a product of his imagination trying to attribute meaning where he wished one existed. Glancing around, it seemed his friends were too engaged in discussing the Festival to be in the mood for lore speculation, so Seiki simply promised himself he would come back to explore later.
Their destination was a medium-sized estate surrounded by gray stone walls, whose crumbling base was covered in a thin layer of old lichen. The territory boundary was at the gate, and Mairin, who was on the clan’s temporary guest list, added them all to her group to allow them access. The other side contained a lush garden which covered a single-story black-roofed wooden building.
A stone path led them through the front yard, where large healthy trees were allowed to grow to their full height, providing ample shade and a sanctuary for songbirds. Most of the trees were red and black pine, but also at least one of each of the rarer trees, including the elusive cypress that was one of the most prized woods. This being the Crafters’ Guild, Seiki had a suspicion what they were for, but he could not imagine the clan simply letting members cut these down at will.
The walk ended at the raised platform of the building, above which a large sign read ‘Heiwa Residence’. This was the clan hall of the Crafters’ Guild, home of allegedly the best crafters Shinshioka had to offer, and this was where a certain houshi, now dressed in refined silky gray, was waiting for them with a look of total disbelief on his face.
Kentaro of the Crafters’ Guild [Level 14] frowned after he had done a quick inspection of his guests. “Not to mention why it took you forty minutes to get here, if you don’t mind me asking, how did you all manage to get your brand new upgraded gear under 80% again?” Seiki saw him frown at the tear on his shoulderguard that still showed a visible scar. That must not have been the worst of it, since Kentaro’s frown deepened when his gaze passed over Mairin.
“Well,” said the kitsune brightly. “It was a nasty spider we ran into.”
Kentaro suppressed a sigh. “Yes, but it was just last night when they were all perfectly maxed. If you keep…Oh my God, don’t tell me you managed to lose your whole Seigaiha trimming?” He stared at Mairin’s white silk kimono. Seiki only now noticed that it was missing at least a few inches off the right sleeve.
“I had to slice it off with my dagger because it was stuck under the nasty spider,” said the kitsune matter-of-factly, before adding in a sheepish voice. “Sorry.”
Kentaro looked horrified. “You cut it off? It doesn’t come back in that case!”
Mairin smiled. “I’ll sell your charms for the rest of my life. Promise.” She then added before Kentaro could say anything, “And we actually got something for killing that spider.”
“Yeah, I’ve got fourteen Tokens now.” Yamura grinned. “I tell you, this is gonna be easier than you think.”
Trading in their monster piece had turned out to be simple enough, and rather intuitive, considering the setting. NPC guard stations doubled as prize booths, where players could redeem their rewards. To add to the flavor, they all had a chance at drawing a bamboo lot out of a tube, and depending on the color at the end of the stick, the guards would hand them a loot bag tied with a string of the same color. Seiki’s blue-stringed bag yielded 4 gold and 38 silver, 7 Festival Tokens, 2 Honor Points, and two more event items:
Festival Yakitori Skewer [Level 4 food] [x3]. Increases the attack range of your next three moves by 3%.
Red Pokamono Stars. Combine this with a Bamboo Tube and at least one tube of Black Powder to create your own fireworks. Adds 20% damage to your attacks for those under the trajectory of the rocket and an 8% chance to
attract the attention of the majestic White Dragon during the last night of the Festival. Takes 1 slot in a Bamboo Tube.
His friends received similarly random festival loot, with minor variations in the amount of gold and Festival Tokens. Mairin received no gold but a Wooden Frog Toy [treasure] that would be worth 2 Favors when turned in at the Palace.
All in all, it was decently lucrative for the amount of time required, and even when Seiki knew full well that the lucky draw was exactly the same as receiving automatic random loot, he could not deny it had some thrills to it, especially when the guards told him whoever drew a gold stick was entitled to the grand prize.
“What’s the grand prize?” Mairin had asked.
The NPC guard then showed her a curious item called Zousachi Scroll, which would add two extra Enhancement Slots to any piece of gear or weapon that had fewer than that. He also added that ten Festival Tokens gave you one chance with the bamboo sticks, and Seiki suddenly understood why everyone was out doing quests.
“So, it’s not like we were just lagging,” Mairin concluded.
“There are much easier ways to get your Tokens, you know,” said Kentaro, after patiently listening to their account of the Kogumo encounter and subsequent prizes.
“Which involves high-level crafting,” Ippei guessed from the houshi’s slightly smug look.
Kentaro smiled. “Exactly.”
Ippei looked at him. “But now we’re going to do some even higher-level crafting.” It was a question.
A rare mischievous spark lit up in the houshi’s eyes. “Yes.”
The prudence in the obscurity of the exchange paid off. At that moment, running out of the front door was Ichika of the Crafters’ Guild [Level 13], a young girl in a bright blue patterned kimono with an armful of scrolls. She glanced at the group before smiling at Kentaro. “Hey, Ken-chan. I’ve heard. Congrats!”
It was not surprising that maxing out a Trade Skill was a big deal for such a clan. Kentaro returned an amicable nod and said something about trading recipes.