Bushido Online: Pacchi Festival: A LitRPG Saga

by Nikita Thorn

  The man, labeled Koki [Level 24], looked a little surprised by his own inability to instantly finish off his targets of much lower levels.

  “Ronin? And nice piece you’ve got there, what is it?” He nodded at Seiki’s handguard. Despite the ambush, his manner was not exactly hostile.

  Seiki eyed him warily.

  “Okay, of course, you mogged over it.” Koki continued after he had squinted at the piece and likely noticed the veiled appearance. Considering the level disparity, however, there was not much the man needed to worry about. Koki was apparently well aware of this and broke into a smile. “That was pretty good. Leave the steaks and we’re good, all right?” He was young-looking, clean-shaven and with a short and messy bush of hair, which was somehow fitting for the Wilderness, but his eyes were bloodshot, like someone who had not slept for a very long time.

  Ippei was finally recovering from whatever had hit him, shivering as the last of the effect wore off. Seiki lent his friend a hand to help him up, his eyes still fixed on their attacker.

  Koki frowned. “Or, you know, I can just loot the steaks and everything else you have on your corpses in a bit. You’re out of energy. Next move, you won’t be able to keep your swords. Let’s just make it easier for everyone.”

  Ippei smiled as he reached into his pocket. “How about no?” The samurai thrust an energy potion into Seiki’s hand and cried, “Mount!”

  Koki let out an annoyed growl at the answer, before charging with another yell. Ippei whistled for his horse, then drew his Jade Steel to Parry, sacrificing all his energy to ward off the attack.

  Seiki took the chance to drink the potion. Knowing his friend was again drained, he turned and blocked the man’s attack with another Parry, grimacing as his energy once again dropped to zero.

  “Go,” Ippei cried. He had taken the available second to refill his resources with a potion and stepped up to attack with a Sweeping Blade to regain some distance, giving Seiki time to call his mount.

  Seiki traded much of his health for energy and dropped low into a short Slide, striking out with Sweeping Blade to knock the man further back, his other hand reaching for his horse whistle. As the man staggered from the successive knockbacks, they turned and ran as fast as they could, and Seiki summoned Fubuki.

  Ippei’s nameless warhorse was already bursting through the thicket, and two seconds later, Seiki’s trusty snowstepper followed. Behind them, the attacker let out a curse as he regained his balance and made a dash after them.

  “Get to the road,” cried Ippei.

  They were running through knee-length undergrowth, parallel to the dirt path. Fubuki was quickly approaching, and Seiki was about to utilize the convenient air-step to leap onto the saddle, when a glowing slit of black on the ground caught his attention. Gleaming like obsidian, partially hidden under fallen leaves, at first he thought it was a wet rock that had caught the sun at a strange angle. Then he realized it was a short blade made from dark metal. Without time to think, Seiki swerved to grab it and hastily stuck it into his inventory as he leapt onto his snowstepper. The man closed in behind him, his sword aiming for Fubuki to force a dismount. Ippei pulled his black horse around and charged him from the side, his Jade Steel held high with both hands as he prepared for a strike. Koki turned to Parry the Mounted Strike, but Ippei was still waiting for that particular Level 15 class ability quest, and the move had been a bluff. Seiki took this chance to adjust his position on the saddle and speed forward in a full gallop. Ippei, for his part, veered his horse away at the last second as they both made a mad dash for the road.

  Koki cursed at them. The next second, his horse whistle cut through the air as he decided to give chase. Seiki pushed as much energy down the stirrups as he could, the constant outward flood of energy leaving him a little short of breath. Fubuki flew forward, tense, as they scraped through a tall roadside bush. Her hooves landed on the firm packed dirt of the path, and her gait became much steadier.

  Ippei burst onto the road behind him, his warhorse breathing heavily. “We might… never mind.” The samurai grunted, while the sounds of four hooves joined them on the dirt road from behind.

  Seiki ventured a quick glance backward. The man’s horse was dark gray, with a long white mane that looked almost as if it was made of smoke, appearing surreal against the lush picturesque country backdrop. Seiki did not recognize the breed, but judging from the quicker rhythm of its gallop, he guessed it was much faster.

  The samurai cursed. “He’s got a jewel-eyed mystical.”

  Seiki took it to mean bad news. They were not going to outrun the attacker, and it was still a good two or three minutes before they reached the main road. Being a high-level samurai, the man also had Mounted Strike readily available. More worrying was the fact that both Seiki and Ippei were nearly out of energy, while the man had hardly spent any. Not to mention that, unlike them, he was not on the one-minute potion lockout.

  A wild idea flashed through Seiki’s mind. Reaching into his inventory, he grabbed the items he needed, ending up with a handful of parts, one foot-long carved bamboo and two heavy paper packets. Seiki frantically squeezed them together with one hand, willing them to magically combine. The desperate method yielded no results, and Seiki was forced to do it the proper way. Letting go of the reins while focusing most of his attention on keeping himself on the horse, he fumbled around the end of the Bamboo Tube and eventually managed to find an opening. He dropped in the two paper-wrapped packets, which slid down the length of the bamboo and hit the bottom with a mild but strangely reassuring judder.

  He tried to snap the lid shut, only to be stopped by a notification.

  You still have one more slot in your Bamboo Tube. Are you sure you want to complete the festival firework rocket?

  Mentally shouting ‘yes!’, Seiki snapped the lid shut again. It now locked with a satisfying wooden click.

  You have created a Red Pokamono Rocket! 8% chance to attract the attention of the White Dragon. 20% standard damage. 20-foot range.

  Ippei’s eyes widened as he saw what Seiki was doing. The samurai suddenly turned to the side of the road and shouted, “Officer! Thank God! Help! Right here!” He even managed to sound relieved.

  Of course, there were no Chubu Rangers in sight, but that was enough to make the attacker hesitate, and that was all they needed. Seiki turned, grabbed the Red Pokamono rocket and aimed. He had no idea how to activate it, or if it would work, and he wasted a few seconds fiddling around with the bottom of the rocket, long enough for the attacker to turn back and take notice of it. Seiki’s fingers suddenly found a handhold on the bottom end, and he grabbed it and pulled.

  Red sparks shot from the end of the bamboo tube straight at their pursuer, before bursting into a curtain of bright sizzling light specks. The man’s jaw dropped, and his curse was drowned out by the sound of explosion. The kick was stronger than Seiki had expected, nearly throwing him off his horse, and he immediately dropped the used rocket and threw his arms around Fubuki’s neck to stay on the saddle. Behind him, the man’s mystical horse neighed in panic, but Seiki had no idea if he had managed to dismount the attacker as both he and Ippei sped down the road as fast as they could.

  “Did we lose him?” cried Ippei as they made the next turn.

  “I hope so,” said Seiki, after a few more seconds.

  The road behind them was empty. With the constant turns, however, they had no idea if the man was still pursuing them, and so they took no chance, and drank energy potions when they could to keep galloping.

  Like most Wilderness paths, there were occasional tree roots to avoid. Despite not having been purposely leveling it, Seiki’s Riding skill was now at Level 11, and Fubuki had no problem navigating the terrain herself without his active attention, allowing him, between his constant backward glances to check the road, to appreciate in the crisp air and the refreshing smell of the lush foliage.

  The path rose and fell in gentle slopes, curving around
elevations in the landscape, and was for the most part heavily shaded with large trees, except where the sun broke through the canopy in straight pillars of light. The right-hand side of the road sloped up in a small hill, dense with overgrowth. The opposite side opened into a grassy plain dotted with young pine trees.

  It was perhaps the wind and the sun and the speed, as well as the narrow escape from a possible spirit shrine, that started to fill Seiki with uncontainable glee. The more times he turned around and found the road behind empty, the more the feeling grew, until he found himself laughing his head off.

  It was not until they reached the East Main Road and saw the first of the Chubu Rangers stations that they finally slowed down and refilled their lungs with proper air.

  Ippei was also laughing as he pulled on the reins of his black horse. “Oh, damn.” His eyes were wide open as he turned to Seiki. “Did you see his face?”

  Seiki nodded, but was panting too heavily to reply.

  The Rangers camp was a wall-less hut made of logs and straw, with a woven bamboo mat for flooring. It housed a uniformed Ranger—sitting cross-legged by her small campfire—who turned to look at them as they suddenly appeared from the Wilderness, her hand reaching instinctively for her bow. Being without a clan had its perks, however, as the Rangers swore to protect travelers with no clan affiliation. She relaxed when she took notice of their tags and continued to observe them.

  “Hi, officer.” Ippei gave her a smile as they walked their horse onto the East Main Road toward the station.

  The woman was labeled Tokie of the Chubu Rangers [Level 25], healthily lean, with a high ponytail fashionable among female Rangers and the assured air of a grown woman who knew what she was doing. Noticing the state of their gear, especially the huge gash down Seiki’s leg guard from the last bull, she gave them a knowing smirk.

  “Good hunt?” she said. She herself was apparently working on some piece of leather, probably her own, judging from her missing shoulder guard.

  “Wild bulls,” said Ippei as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “The end got a bit exciting.”

  The Chubu Rangers encouraged people to report player killers, but since there were no combat logs in the Wilderness, there was often no proof. Given the size of the Wilderness and how seldom Seiki and his friend were out here, it was very unlikely they would ever run into the man again. Perhaps this was just part of Wilderness everyday life, and the Ranger seemed to understand Ippei’s meaning, and nodded in sympathy. “Well, glad you made it. You’re probably too high for these Rice Balls now, but care for some?”

  They politely accepted, and Ippei even went as far as getting off his horse to pick a few up from her bamboo mattress before continuing on their way.

  “Don’t forget to get to the Festival!” the Ranger called cheerily after as they rode off, to which Ippei replied with an overly enthusiastic “Thanks! Will do!”

  “Keep them happy,” he added in a low voice by way of an excuse once they were out of earshot.

  Seiki shook his head in amusement but said nothing.

  The next leg of the journey was much less perilous, and despite Ippei’s lukewarm stance toward the Chubu Rangers, the clan’s stations along the main road seemed to keep much of the drama at bay. They headed further west and soon entered a lower-level zone where they could afford to further relax their guard.

  After their prolonged exertion earlier, neither of them wanted anything to do with energy, and so they rode at an easy trot, which was the fastest they could go without using any energy. Traffic on the main road was low, and most players paid them no attention. At one point, they passed two unfamiliar Rogami Clan members riding the opposite direction, two men in their early Level 20s. Knowing that most people did not bother looking at other people, they kept their eyes on the road and kept riding. As expected, neither of the Rogami took any notice of two mid-level clanless travelers.

  “You know, it’s not all of them,” said Seiki to himself. If he remembered correctly, the Rogami Clan had over three hundred members. Based on the clan’s disorganized nature he had seen during the White Crane siege, he doubted most of them even knew what was going on in the other parts of the clan.

  Ippei raised an eyebrow. “Justifying your decision to sign up for Rogami temple duty?”

  “I know you’re tempted.” Seiki hid a smile. “Because War Tokens.”

  “Yeah,” said Ippei. “I’m going straight there after the beef bowls.”

  Seiki laughed. “I might just call your bluff.”

  “You’re, of course, welcome to join any time,” continued the samurai, almost seriously. He was somehow distracted, as he pulled his horse to a stop to look around.

  Spotting something Seiki could not quite see, Ippei turned his horse onto a side road to their right, a small trail laid with rocks and logs leading upward into a dense hill. “I think it’s here.”

  Seiki glanced up the path. Beyond the first thirty feet or so, it seemed nearly impassable.

  “Come on,” said the samurai, an excited spark in his eyes. “You won’t regret it.” He kicked his horse to start making its way up.

  “Can I ask where we’re going?” Seiki said, although he already knew the answer.

  “Somewhere good.” Ippei was already turning the first bend, and that was most likely all he would say.

  Shaking his head in amusement, Seiki nudged Fubuki forward after his friend.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The path led uphill in a long, winding climb and soon they were completely enveloped in a world of rich green, thick with towering spruce that hid much of the direct sunlight. The ground was an uneven terrain of mountain rocks and old fallen trees, covered by a soft blanket of damp moss and white-flowering herbs. The dirt trail was ancient. Most of the cut rocks that fortified it had been smoothed by years of rain and mud and travelers’ soles. The occasional wooden posts marking the trail were broken, sometimes nearly invisible under wild overgrowth. With each turn, the path became increasingly steep, and after a while, when Fubuki and Ippei’s black war horse refused to go any further, they dismounted.

  Instead of trotting back, both horses stood and waited for their owners to disappear around the next bend, perhaps because the trail was too narrow for them to turn around, and Seiki wondered if the whole path was instanced.

  “I think it is,” said Ippei when Seiki asked him. “I’ve been up here a few times and never have I met anyone else.”

  “Makes sense,” said Seiki, as he could not see the path accommodating more than a few people at once.

  The Wilderness worked very much like the Shinshioka underground passageways. The central section stretched from Shinshioka’s Gate of the Azure Dragon down the East Main Road all the way to Fuoka and beyond, and served as a hallway to many other subsections, with invisible entrances to other more secluded parts of the Wilderness, some individually instanced and some public. This was perhaps why even the Society had always had problems with mapping out the area, and many versions existed from different Cartographers. Seiki had no doubt that the start of this trail would be marked as a dot on the map, somewhere about five minutes from Shinshioka, if it was included at all, but the rest would not physically fit anywhere on the document.

  This feature meant any subsection could be as big as it needed to, and Seiki was surprised how long the journey was taking them. Still, it was a very pleasant climb, especially when muscle fatigue only manifested as a slight extra weight on their legs and was not at all taxing. Birdsong and insect chirps were sparse, highlighting the restful silence in the atmosphere and making their footsteps intrusively loud in the peaceful surroundings. Ippei continued to casually discuss war strategies and Seiki learned a few things about the most desirable Seals that could drop from the demon bosses.

  As they reached the end of the trail, the ground leveled out, and Seiki found himself on a flat mountain ledge slightly smaller than his ronin West Plains instance. On both sides were nearly vert
ical cliff faces of gray rocks and dense creepers. The area must have been purposely cleared, as only a few large trees remained by the edges, leaving in the middle a grass lawn. What immediately caught Seiki’s attention was directly beyond the far end of the ledge.

  There was nothing there but the soft blue of the sky.

  “No way,” said Seiki as he guessed what it promised.

  Running across the clearing, he came to a stop right before the sharp drop, and the world opened up before him.

  The ledge was in the middle of a mountain range, high above a deep evergreen valley that tapered into fog-covered fields to the right. To the left, the mountain continued for as far as he could see, climbing higher and steeper, deep blue with lush forests until it gave way to majestic straight rock cliffs. At the very top, the sloping peak was covered with snow, impossibly white in the sun.

  Seiki could only stare, speechless, and for a brief moment everything seemed to cease to exist except the sight in front of him. Then, having spent quite a bit of time looking for viewpoints during his early days in the Wilderness, he looked around for another usual feature.

  He immediately spotted it: a gigantic Red Pine, right at the border, that tilted a little forward over the cliff’s edge. He ran toward the tree, found easy handholds along the aged bark, and pulled himself up onto one of the hanging branches that stretched above the abyss.

  The view from the tree was not that much different from what he could see from the ground, although it offered a slightly wider angle—a small reward for those who had gotten their Woodcutting to a sufficient level to climb out. From within its cool, heavy shade, the sunlit expanse of nature in front of him appeared even more vibrant by contrast. Seiki could feel the tree swaying gently in the wind, matching the movement of the gust that was breathing through the dense valley below, and for a short while he was a native part of a complete whole and nothing else mattered.