Bushido Online: Pacchi Festival: A LitRPG Saga

by Nikita Thorn

  Ippei was also right about how damage application was calculated. Whether damage got applied or not was based on the target’s distance from Seiki exactly nine seconds after the shield was cast, regardless of the original location of both parties. This meant that when trying to protect someone else, he could simply cancel the damage by making sure there was sixty feet between him and the target at the moment the damage was supposed to hit.

  For self-casts, however, since there was no way to be sixty feet away from yourself, Seiki would then have nine seconds to do whatever necessary to mitigate the incoming damage, whether by replenishing his own health or getting help from a healer. After some practice, he slowly started to think of it as borrowed time.

  “Like health credit,” Ippei said with a laugh. “Spend your health now, take a hit later.”

  The most useful aspect might be the fact this made damage predictable. Whatever damage had been sustained in the six seconds after the shield was activated would be delayed and doled out in one massive blow exactly nine seconds later.

  Seiki was not sure how that would come into play, as nothing level-appropriate was going to try to hit him for thrice his total health, and if he was fighting something he was not meant to, it was probably going to be too chaotic to strategize properly.

  “I guess it’s going to be an emergency move,” he said. “Like the Crimsonfire Tekko. Except that I can also save someone else with it.” Having two different shields did not sound like a bad idea.

  “It buys you nine seconds of near invincibility,” said Ippei. “And you can get a lot done in that time.”

  Seiki nodded. “But then I die.”

  “Which is already part of your normal strategy,” Ippei pointed out.

  As they experimented more, Seiki discovered, to his delight, that if he paid close attention, he could tell how much damage the shield had absorbed. The pending damage felt like storm clouds he could not see, the presence of looming danger at the back of his mind.

  “That’s what Brace feels like,” Ippei said when Seiki explained it to him.

  “You can feel incoming damage?”

  “Yes, but only if you’re anticipating it, and only for physical damage. It helps you make the decision whether you need to Brace or not.”

  “I see,” said Seiki, and for the first time he realized that to play the game well, he also had to understand thoroughly what other classes could do.

  By the time they ran out of energy potions, they had a good feel of how the shield worked, and Seiki was now convinced it was meant to be a ronin ability, just as Ippei had said. No other class, except perhaps kitsune, could be expected to extensively rely on speed and positioning.

  However, there was a major caveat, which was perhaps also meant to be a ronin-specific challenge: the strength of the shield corresponded directly to the user’s own health at the time of the cast. It was most powerful when Seiki’s own health was high, which meant he needed to be careful when using Blood Rush. Using it now meant he was not only hurting himself, but meant he was decreasing the effectiveness of his own ability to protect someone else.

  Seiki let out a long exhale when he became aware of that fact. “And now I’m going to have to rethink how I do everything.”

  Ippei gave him a pat on the back. “I’m glad it will force you to think twice before trying to kill yourself at every opportunity with your Infinite Blood Rush just for a bit more energy.”

  Seiki opened his mouth to protest, only to remember that was exactly what had happened in the last few encounters. “Okay, you’re right.” He chuckled. In a way, he supposed it was teaching him not to rely on all-in desperation, and perhaps it was about time he started doing so.

  After more experiments and speculations, they eventually decided there was nothing else to be learned until they could try it out in real combat. Although the shield had gotten a bit of getting used to in the beginning and did not come as intuitively as his physical abilities, Seiki could now cast it with relative ease, at least most of the time.

  “After I sleep on it tonight, I think I’ll be fine for tomorrow’s run,” said Seiki. The trick was, perhaps, to remember that he had it and to actively try to incorporate it into his existing toolkit. They had no idea how the shield would work against the Cursed Spirits’ alleged life-drain ability, but there was no way to test it at the moment short of seeking out Rieko and trying to get her to kill them.

  Ippei nodded as he put away his training weapon, looking quite pleased with the day’s discovery. “Nine seconds might give us a real chance.”

  Seiki agreed. All they had to do was to get the spirits to combine, which Ippei said was as simple as kiting them into each other.

  “Well, I guess it’s time for the beef bowl,” said Seiki as he removed the bokken. As promised, unequipping the training weapon dropped his energy to zero and locked him out of all his abilities. The sudden sense of coming down hit Seiki with a familiar feeling of being satisfactorily spent, like after a long, productive training session, and for a very brief moment he was a little bewildered at how there were no pangs of regret associated with the memory.

  As he put the bokken in his inventory, he found something else that he only now remembered putting there.

  “Look at this,” he said as he retrieved the bare black dagger he had picked up from the ground earlier after the Wilderness ambush. “This must have been what the guy used.”

  Six inches long and slightly curved, its bare blade gleamed a sinister shade of black. Missing its sheath, the hilt was set in lacquered wooden grip which showcased its metal spine.

  Unsurprisingly, such a weapon was named:

  Tsukikage. +14 attack +2 speed. Effect: Disarm applies a 4-second Fear effect on the target. Claimed by Koki.

  Thinking back to the encounter, Seiki now realized the man had aimed for clean one-shots. The initial Disarm was meant to temporarily take Ippei out of commission. The subsequent attack with the Swerve Cut was meant to instantly kill Seiki. Then he would be free to turn back and dispatch Ippei, who would still be locked in Fear.

  Ippei let out a curse. “So that’s what it was.”

  Seiki confirmed with a nod. Despite the dismal stat, the effect more than made up for it. The Fear-applying Disarm was essentially a four-second stun. “I guess it’s perfect for a loot stealer.”

  “Sometimes you become the named blade you pull,” said Ippei thoughtfully. “Or maybe it’s the other way round.” He smiled as he gestured toward the dagger. “So you know what you want to do with that?”

  Seiki grinned. “Oh, yeah.”

  They walked toward the edge of the cliff again. The sun had now dipped to its late afternoon angle and had disappeared behind them, and the mountain range now cast its expansive shadow over the valley below. Further away ahead of them, the landscape was still sunlit, and the line between shadow and colors was striking. Seiki spared a brief moment to take in the sight. Then he took a deep breath, stepped back and tossed the dagger out into the wilderness as far as he could. The weapon left his hand with a sharp whish, and spun in the air like a ninja glaive as it disappeared into the valley below.

  Technically, there was no long-term adverse effect to what they were doing. The blade was named, and its owner would be able to recall it from the Bureau, although he would need to wait at least a week for it or spend Favors to get it back sooner.

  Seiki let out a shallow breath. As inconsequential as the act was, it was as if he had cast off another bit of weight on his soul. There were times to run, and there were times to fight, and it was only recently that he felt he had found firm footing, enough to turn back and face his enemy. And now it took a different kind of courage, perhaps, to turn around once more and look ahead and set a goal on something at the edge of the horizon. Standing on a mountain ledge, halfway between the deep, dense, intertwining forest below and the lofty peaks at the edge of his sight, he felt he had finally climbed high enough to see where the bott
om was and what was possible ahead.

  A strong wind swept through, shook everything on the ledge and cast a few shed leaves out into the air above the abyss, and Seiki turned to Ippei and grinned. “I’ll make you an offer. Beef bowl later, and some of my Generic Grilled Meat now for the first course.”

  Ippei’s eyes widened. “Oh, great idea. Now only if we had some sake…” The samurai paused, before his face lit up in delight. “… which we actually do.”

  Seiki at first did not understand, until he saw Ippei looking toward the Houkakou Shrine and remembered the stack of offerings in front of it. “Is that legal?”

  “Yeah. It’ll respawn in an hour,” said Ippei, rushing off to retrieve the free loot.

  As Seiki started gathering twigs for a fire, Ippei returned a barrel of Local Sake [Level 1 food]. “Technically, the gods have already consumed it, so they won’t mind. So, I hope I can interest you in some… Komiya Futsu-shu?” he read the script on the red paper wrap.

  Seiki stared at the size of the container. It could very well hold at least twenty of the standard bottles. “We’re not going to drink straight from that thing, are we?”

  “No, but I was hoping you’d have some wood blocks from when you stopped to get that cedar on the way.”

  “I do,” said Seiki, deciding Woodcrafting was probably the best Trade Skill to have.

  They sat down on the ledge and Ippei casually carved out two square Masu Cup [Level 9] from Seiki’s Cedar Woodblocks, while Seiki made a fire and cooked some of the non-premium beef they had collected, using the basic method every player eventually picked up at some point (which consisted of putting a piece of stick through it and roasting it over open flames.) Surprisingly, the endeavor leveled his Cooking to Level 6 and spared them the Generic Grilled Meat. The result came out as Roasted Beef Strips [Level 2 food], with a rather useless buff of +1 attack for 30 seconds.

  “Hey, not bad,” said Ippei as he took a bite. “Especially with these rice balls.” He casually stuck the Chubu Rangers’ gifts through a stick and turned them over the crackling fire.

  The sake, however, was a different story, and Seiki could not help laughing after the first sip from the box cup instantly rewarded him with 2% drunkenness. In a way, it was rather fitting, considering the simple meal that went with it, but whatever was lacking in terms of culinary quality, the view more than made up for. As they sat on the cliff’s edge, watching the shadow of the mountain grow longer, Seiki felt as if he had rediscovered something he had forgotten to miss.

  They eventually found themselves out of beef and rice balls, and with more than half a barrel of sake left. “Unfortunately the gods don’t have something like your Master Tsujihara’s premium collection,” said Ippei. “But to be honest, I’ve had much worse stuff in my life.”

  “Oh, yeah, me too,” said Seiki. “There was one time I—”

  He suddenly could not continue, as a lump formed in his throat, and he drained the rest of his cup and took a deep breath. He was not sure why it hit him then, but he was overwhelmed by the recollection of things lost and found, of things broken and unbroken, somewhere between joy and sorrow but neither.

  Ippei said nothing as he poured both of them another drink, and they finished it in silence.

  “You know, Ippei,” Seiki finally said as he watched his drunkenness slowly ticking up. “This isn’t a bad life.”

  “No,” the samurai agreed, and after a while, he added with a chuckle. “Considering that the last time I got to kill demons in real life was… never.”

  Seiki nodded. It was a diversion, perhaps, like a certain bandit had said, and he pondered the question for a moment as Ippei reached over to fill his cup again.

  “Maybe the problem is I don’t exactly have anything in real life to divert from,” he said, partly to himself.

  Ippei was looking out beyond the cliff. “It hasn’t been that long, has it?” he said, quietly.

  “Eight months,” said Seiki. “The first few were a complete blur, and, you know, time seems a lot longer in here, and it feels like I’ve always…” He was suddenly not sure what he was trying to say and fixed his eyes on the valley again, observing the million little details on the dense foliage, some deep viridian and some vivid emerald in the angled sunlight. “But this view… you know, Ippei—”

  “Cole.”

  Seiki turned and found Ippei’s steadfast gaze.

  “It’s Cole,” said the samurai. “Just so you know.”

  In some moments, a thousand things needed no words, and Seiki looked at his friend. “Seth,” he finally said.

  Ippei nodded.

  “You already know,” said Seiki.

  Ippei nodded again. “I was looking up some of your techniques, then I realized.”

  Seiki let out a solemn chuckle. “I guess there aren’t a lot of ex-MMA fighters in my situation.” He paused for a moment to draw another deep breath. “Saw my fights?”

  “Yeah,” said Ippei, before adding. “Not the last one.” The samurai put down his empty wooden cup beside him and reached for a refill. “But, damn, that one against Murray. No wonder you’re the best PVP player I’ve ever seen.”

  Seiki let out a grim chuckle. “I’m glad it’s still good for something.” He was surprised he really meant it.

  Ippei was looking at him. Then a smirk crept up on his lips. “War Games, on the other hand, are yet to be seen, since troops’ management from what I’ve seen so far has been quite abysmal.”

  Seiki choked on laughter in the middle of a sip of the sake. “Oh, yeah?”

  Laughing, Ippei poured more sake for him to make up for the spilled portion. “Well, I guess we’ll see tomorrow. But, you know, to be honest, I just want to see it again after so long. Whether we beat it or not doesn’t really matter. And maybe we should take it slow. It’s not fair to force you through progression without giving you the chance to set your own pace.”

  Seiki met his eyes. “Hey, don’t worry. I’m used to pressure.” Then, realizing it was completely true, he broke into a smile. “In fact, I excel under pressure.”

  “Exactly what I want to hear,” said Ippei, as he lifted the sake barrel. “Let’s drink to that.”

  Seiki groaned, but the moment was too good to pass up and so he lifted the box for the refill.

  In the end, they did not finish even half the barrel, as they decided that 87% drunk was probably enough. The effect made the world waver a little, and the valley below seemed to be rising and falling with very slight, soothing heaves.

  Riding back through the Wilderness when unable to walk straight was always a bad idea, but they each had one poison-curing potion left to clear the effect when they hit the main road, which Seiki realized he should use before making the descent anyway.

  As they got up to leave, a pigeon fluttered down for Seiki, and he found it quite amusing how difficult it was to remove the post message from the bird.

  Gin of the East City Bandits [1 minute ago]: You drive a terrible bargain, mister ronin, but I suppose my hands are tied. So, yes, you get us past the Yureimusha, you can have full loot distribution rights and we will pay for repairs. Thursday night, during the Rogami private Shogun event. Meet us first where you found us last time at the hour of the rooster.

  Seiki looked up from the message at his friend. “You know when I asked you earlier about the most obnoxious thing you can ask for when running a merc job? Well, the guy said yes, so I hope you were serious about me calling the shots for the rest of the Festival.”

  Ippei looked at him. “Since you put it that way, I’m already regretting it.”

  “Thursday night,” said Seiki as casually as he could. “We’re invading the Rogami.”

  Ippei stared at him for a full five seconds, then he started laughing. “You know what? I think I need to be a hundred percent drunk for this.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  Seiki peered out from behind the wall of a burnt shop house into the lo
oming shadows in front of him. The lane he had been following had looped back to the central part of the instance, and now he found himself once again on the side of the main road of Hitsu Village, flanked by rows of charred and broken buildings that kept silent watch over the deserted street. Under the grayish illumination that was neither night nor day, the whole instance was eerily still, without so much as the chirp of an insect, as if the place was holding its breath as it observed its intruders.

  Sweeping his gaze over the surroundings, Seiki tried to spot any wavering forms in the area. As Ippei had said, the Cursed Spirits looked very much like ninja in Camouflage, and Seiki was once again grateful that the ambushes by the Shadow Manor had trained him to recognize the effect.

  The instance was adjusted for the West Defenders’ primary team, who clustered around Level 25, so Seiki knew any monster would be too deadly for him to engage on his own. The Spirits were harmless until they spotted a player and entered combat with them, which meant his best hope was to map the area undetected. Despite a rather shaky start, it was going quite smoothly.

  The first Spirit had been a close call. The patch of wavering air had drifted through a residence wall right in front of him. It bore no label, and Seiki had luckily noticed the distortion in the air in time and checked his steps slightly out of its range.

  His heart pounding as he watched the blob of air float harmlessly by, he had chided himself for not having anticipated something that obvious. Of course, spirits went through walls, very much like obake. Since then, he had learned to stick to the middle of the road to avoid further surprises.

  The second one had been easier, as it was lingering in the middle of his path. This time, Seiki steered well clear of it and went down a different alley altogether, before coming back round the other side to map the area.

  Now, after two more alleys had been mapped without incident, he was starting to feel a little more confident.

  Their strategy was simple. He and Ippei had started from opposite ends of the village. After the whole instance was mapped, they would kite the two nearest Cursed Spirits out to the field east of the ruins, where their troops and the West Defenders were waiting. Combining the Spirits should be as straightforward as getting them to pass directly through each other. As long as the overlap area was large enough, the Spirits should merge into a bigger and deadlier monster, and their job would be done.