by Nikita Thorn
A warm invisible cushion enveloped him just as he was about to fall. The soft, almost solid air around him eased the chill and siphoned away the damage, absorbing it before it could do much harm. Seiki managed to gasp for breath. He looked up and waited for his sight to fully return. In front of him, approaching on an armored gray horse, was Sae of the West Defenders [Level 25], her long silver staff in her hand. She nodded at him as she rode past. Her troops, trailing behind her, were a company of about a dozen men and women in cloth gear.
“Top him up,” Sae turned to shout as she galloped by, and three of her houshi unit members broke away from the group and raised their hands. Their Heal filled Seiki’s health in a second, and they turned around and rushed back toward the battlefield after the rest of the houshi unit.
Seiki shivered as his senses caught up with the different temperatures rapidly flashing through him. The sudden influx of health had snapped his mind back to a state of full alertness, and he felt as if he had just been jolted awake from deep sleep by a violent earthquake.
All around, the West Defenders had burst into action. The players were leading their units down from the small hill at the beginning of the instance, each group keeping just far apart enough for Seiki to tell which was which. Most of the samurai and ryoushi had troops in the hundreds, all mounted, who filled the atmosphere with rising voices and clanking armor as they stormed toward the field.
Seiki moved out of the way as more units rode by, feeling the passing hooves shaking the ground under his feet.
“Good job, guys,” shouted someone above the deafening roar of the army. One of the West Defenders’ ryoushi raised his hand to wave, but disappeared into the sea of uniformed soldiers too quickly for Seiki to see who it was.
The noise rose to a tumultuous clamor as the West Defenders entered the field. At first it seemed like utter chaos, a boiling pot of soldiers and horses, but after a while Seiki realized this was not the case. Different units wove effortlessly around the Cursed Spirit, taking turns to draw its attention to gauge the kind of damage it was dishing out. The units positioned themselves close enough for quick changes of strategy but safely out of each other’s way.
Nobuki, the clan leader, was directing their movement. “It doesn’t hit very hard, so just leave it to Aki! Don’t pull!” the samurai’s voice carried over the wind. “Renna, grab the nearest one at your four o’clock. Kisho, take the north side and bring the other one around.”
A few West Defenders riders broke off into the ruins to kite the rest of the Cursed Spirits. By now, it was apparent that it did not take more than the players themselves to kite, and so some left their troops waiting in the field.
The houshi, Sae, had separated her unit into smaller clusters, and they each followed individual riders into the village, perhaps to provide a steady stream of healing. The troops in the middle of the field now were fanning out into two separate groups, getting ready to intercept additional Spirits being kited out of the ruins.
Seiki had seen collective efforts by large groups of players before, but never anything so organized, efficient and confident.
“So this is what it takes,” he said quietly to himself, after he finally remembered to breathe again.
The area near the beginning of the instance had emptied, and Seiki now found himself alone in a rather quiet corner, a safe distance away from the battle as the whole army moved the Cursed Spirit further southward. In the relative calm, a sense of relief slowly started to creep over him. He had done his part, and now the situation was in much more capable hands.
Seiki strained his eyes to look for Ippei, but it was impossible to locate his friend in the midst of the galloping cavalries, and so he simply continued to watch what the West Defenders were doing.
“Sweeping Blade?” he said, trying to see if he could recognize the Formations. “And a Parry with something else…” He noticed the strange sideward motion from one of the samurai units that made him a little unsure. “And… oh!”
As Umiko’s sub-units rushed in to knock back the Spirit, something struck him.
It was about the nature of War Games that Ippei had been trying to explain but which he had until now been unable to fully conceptualize.
Utility Slots were the hands you could play. Players had the freedom to decide what kind and how many Slots they wanted, which could be filled with potions, Seals, or whatever Formation they could manage to discover. At a certain point, Command Slots opened up, offering another layer of tools and allowed for more precision in gameplay, as these new slots gave players the option to divide their troops into smaller groups and give them different tasks at once. A Formation’s strength and range were directly affected by the number of troops performing it, and therefore players would need to balance between adding more Slots and upgrading troops, since that would increase their usefulness outside of Formations and allowed them to survive longer and deal more flat damage against common enemies. This aspect of the game was all about managing your troops’ build.
Out of the preparation phase, when it was action time, it then became a game about matching your troops to the right Formations, based on what needed to be achieved and where the units were positioned on the field. This was perhaps what Ippei had meant by big-picture thinking, and why he said it was more a strategy game. There was no one right way to do things, and the possibilities were endless.
“And that’s why you ultimately need a zillion Slots… And Coins and Tokens, and your three weekly runs every week for the rest of your life,” Seiki ended his thought aloud.
That was still a long way to go. His own tiny unit was once again dead, and he grimaced at how he always managed to get them killed. “Level-appropriate content next time,” he promised his absent troop members.
The strategy had worked, regardless, and perhaps he had learned something valuable: the effect of the Vertical Spike Formation stacked. Since troops’ abilities were not limited by lockouts, as long as he had energy, he could lay quite a few of them on top of one another for a more powerful stun.
As he pulled up his troops’ menu to check, he was surprised by a lingering notification.
Combination Formation discovered! Would you like to save this formation for future use at the cost of 1 War Coin?
It must have popped up a long time ago, but he probably had been too focused on trying not to die to notice it. “Uh… yes.”
Please select a Slot if you would like to save it. The new formation will override the existing one.
>> [Formation Slot of Range] +15% power +20% range.
>> [Standard Slot]
Seiki blinked. “Formation Slot of Range, I guess?”
Please name the formation.
Having no clue what it was, the prompt actually stumped him. “Something?” he finally said with a laugh. The Slot information changed accordingly.
[Formation Slot of Range] – Something: Level 3 Formation. Combination
Base abilities: Slide, Parry, Sweeping Blade
Energy cost: 3.
Power: +15%.
Range: +20%.
“Level 3 Formation… combo!” Seiki exclaimed as the information finally registered, although he was still a little surprised how it had come about. He must have demonstrated it right before his unit members died, which activated the save prompt. Thinking back, he slowly pieced together what had happened. He first shielded Ippei with Protection of the Sea, and then guarded himself with his Crimsonfire Tekko, and then tried to rush in and Parry the Cursed Spirit’s attack to make sure Ippei could kite the other one safely. The Sweeping Blade at the end, he had no real memory of, but he thought it was his instinct to try to push the enemy away.
Seiki was not sure exactly what he had done and wondered what it did in a troops’ Formation. There was, however, nothing he could do at this point except perhaps learn as much as he could as an observer.
Slowly, he moved further to a better location toward the edge of the in
stance to find a spot that would grant him a full view of the action while being far away enough not to be caught in any stray abilities the Cursed Spirits could be throwing out.
He had no idea what happened to Ippei. His friend had been alive when he last saw him, but the Protection Shield had a short-lived effect, and Seiki was not sure if the West Defenders had intercepted the Cursed Spirit in time before it lashed out at the samurai again.
“Well… unless…” Seiki glanced toward the resurrection point, which Ippei had pointed out to him earlier, located in a copse of red pine. He supposed he could write a post message, and see which direction the pigeon went, if it worked that way at all. “And I’m becoming Renshiro…” Seiki shook his head at the crazy, unreliable method as he reached for his post kit. “But why not?”
“That doesn’t work in instances,” came Ippei’s shout.
Seiki looked up in relief. Ippei was making his way through the field, breaking into a jog after he cleared the last of a galloping ryoushi unit. The samurai did not appear hurt, as the West Defenders houshi must have managed to toss a Heal on him as well.
“So it actually works sometimes?” Seiki asked as he tucked his post kit away.
“In the Wilderness, it kinda does, if you happen to be in the goldilocks zone,” said the samurai. “But not here. A war instance isn’t exactly a real location on the map, so they all fly up.”
A delighted grin spread across Ippei’s face as he joined Seiki at the edge of the field. “All right, what was that?”
“That? Oh, that. I’m not sure. Here, take a look.” Seiki shared his troops’ menu, which Ippei studied for a moment.
The samurai looked a little perplexed. “I… have no idea how a Slide and Parry and a Sweeping Blade combo could have done that.”
“Done what?”
“Thrown you all the way over to where you landed.”
Seiki was not sure why that was surprising. “Uh… maybe it was the AoE explosion from combining the Spirits?”
Ippei did not seem convinced. “Maybe. But I thought you got your Crimsonfire Tekko up in time, so technically all that damage should have been cancelled, or you wouldn’t have survived it. You see, your Tekko should negate everything, including the knockback.”
“I guess you’re right,” said Seiki, although his memory of what had happened was hazy at best. “Well, good thing I saved it, then. I hope I can get my troops to teach it back to me later.”
“Yeah, whatever it was, it was really great. I didn’t expect us to survive combining the Spirits. And now we have front row seats to the rest of the show.”
They quickly found a spot on top of a small mound near the revive point that gave them an expansive view of the instance.
“You know, this is interesting.” Ippei chuckled as they flattened the dry grass with their boots and settled down on the makeshift seats. “I’ve always been in the thick of it every time, and this is the first time I get to do nothing but watch.”
The West Defenders seemed to be doing well. The slightly larger Cursed Spirit was being kited by two groups of ryoushi, who alternately used a hail of flare-like arrows to draw its attention.
Seiki let out a long breath as he folded his legs under himself, leaned back on his arms, looked out at the battlefield, and allowed a satisfying kind of exhaustion to wash over him. “They didn’t really need us, did they?”
Ippei laughed. “Not really. But they just spent six hundred Favors on a strategy guide, so they had to make us do something.”
“A good investment on their part,” said Seiki with a chuckle.
“Absolutely,” said Ippei. “Or they would still be stuck trying to speed run it like everybody else. And here to celebrate.”
Ippei passed over a white porcelain bottle that was surprisingly cold to the touch. The item was labeled Chilled Sakura Tea [Level 4 food].
“Energy drink,” the samurai explained, before flicking off the cap from an identical bottle in his other hand and taking a swig.
Seiki licked his lips after he tasted it. Slightly cold, refreshingly syrupy and floral, the first sip of the drink rewarded him with two points of energy. “Literally, I see. You came prepared.”
“I was saving these for later but it would be a shame not to have anything to drink when we get to watch this.”
They were indeed getting the best kind of show, and Ippei helpfully pointed out important strategies to note. The West Defenders were making progress. In the middle of the field, two players had managed to combine another pair of Spirits. The resulting explosion, although still a loud bang, was much less world-shattering than when Seiki had been in the middle of it. It also did not inflict that much damage to the players and their troops. Sae’s houshi unit, now split into different smaller groups, had no problem topping them off after a few seconds.
Ippei explained that it had to be done in steps. The original eight Spirits first had to be combined in pairs, before further combinations of second-level Spirits became possible.
“If you do them out of order, they just explode and don’t combine,” said the samurai.
The West Defenders soon managed to combine all first-level Spirits and were moving on to turn four into two.
The Spirits grew in deadliness as well as size. Seiki watched a small ryoushi unit kite a second-level Cursed Spirit into another, completing the combination and setting off another area explosion. This time, the burst was powerful enough to dismount troop members within range. The players, however, kept their horses, and they quickly drew the third-level Spirit away from disoriented soldiers before it could cause any more damage.
“Once you know what to do, it doesn’t seem that difficult,” Seiki observed.
“It’s not,” Ippei agreed. “But then again we’re watching the best. Most of the time, coordinating players is enough of a challenge. I’d love to see a pickup group try to manage that. Actually, no, I take that back.”
Seiki chuckled. “I see. This whole West Defenders thing is just to avoid having to group up with random people.”
“Oh, you’ll agree it’s worth it after you’ve tried random groups a few times.”
They continued to watch as the West Defenders skillfully moved the Spirits around the field, until Seiki remembered what he had been meaning to ask his friend. “Why hasn’t anyone figured this strategy out before now?” Kiting the Spirits together definitely looked simple and intuitive enough that it was hard to believe that all the dedicated War clans would not have found this out after several weeks of play.
“Because they’re all unfortunately going about it the wrong way around. You see, the Spirits have a Drain now.” Ippei pointed to the middle of the field at one of the twelve-foot Spirits that towered above the mounted players. “If there’s more than one target around in their detect zone, they melee whoever is closest and then select the furthest target in that zone to Drain. So unless your group is very coordinated, you’ll have unpredictable damage going out everywhere. You see, over there? That’s why they keep the healers closer to the Spirit so the Drain will go after the ryoushi group further away on the edge instead.”
Seiki nodded as he saw the Drain go off like Ippei had anticipated, its damage spread out between all the ryoushi troops. “I see.”
“I guess that’s what’s throwing people off,” Ippei continued. “From what I’ve heard, every group’s strategy so far has been to pull one at a time to avoid damage, and then someone started this idea of having to kill all eight before the first one respawns, so every clan has been going with that strategy. Lately the Nobles had also been chain-pulling, and they’ve gotten as far as getting six Cursed Spirits down, inside the village ruins, mind you. No idea how they pulled that off in the middle of that maze. Not to mention that the Spirits still AoE when you kite them through each other imperfectly even when they don’t combine, so people have been careful not to let them come close to one another.”
“So the complete oppo
site of what you’re supposed to do.”
“Yeah.”
“Makes sense, I guess,” said Seiki. “But… well, this isn’t new. You knew this from Beta, and it’s still the exact same mechanic. You’d think at least one more person would know.”
Ippei laughed at that. “We beat it less than a month before Beta ended. And only one group of people knew. Us.” He thought for a moment. “Let me see who still plays? Well, Ryuta settled down, said he was coming back for the live version, never did. Can’t blame him, though, since the delay was longer than expected. Dai couldn’t afford the live game anymore and he got into college. Nami got poached by the Nobles, and I’m not sure if she’s still there. Probably not, or the Nobles would have known what to do.”
Ippei had never talked about his old friends in Beta before, and Seiki listened in fascination as he mentioned a few more names from his past life. “And, well, Katsumasa apparently… ascended.” He ended with a grimace.
Seiki’s first instinct was to offer condolences, before he realized his friend must have meant something else. “Oh,” he said after a moment. “You mean he… uh, joined the devs team?”
“That’s my suspicion,” said Ippei. “He won’t confirm, and he won’t talk to me much about the game. Says it violates his contract.”
The samurai fell silent at that. Seiki stole a look at his friend, who seemed to have his wistful attention focused somewhere else in his own memories, lost in a world that no longer existed in the form he knew.
“Was Beta… a better game?” Seiki finally asked.
Ippei thought for a while. “No,” he said. “Definitely not. You see, back then you were either on top of the food chain or you were fodder. So if you weren’t especially lucky or if you didn’t spend time learning all the exploits, it could be frustrating.” He shook his head and chuckled. “It was incredibly unbalanced and unfair. But, I guess it had that feeling of being at the edge of something crazy, something wild…”