“…!”
With a silent cry, I slashed horizontally left. The blade stopped straight ahead, as though colliding with something invisible, then leaped up and to the right. A step forward, and then a short-range, high-powered slash. The three-part Savage Fulcrum.
The move left a crimson trail like a closed numeral 4 in the air that quickly trailed away. Satisfied, I continued to the next move, holding my sword directly along the median line, then backswinging up over my head.
High. Low. A connecting forward slash, then a pull all the way over my back for a full-power vertical smash. A blue square floated forward through the air, rotating and spreading apart. That four-part attack had been one of my favorites in SAO, due to its wide range and lack of easy exploits—Vertical Square.
All four sword skills went off without a failure or a single hitch.
That was enough to confirm that the sword was at least the same priority level as Eugeo’s Blue Rose Sword. Of course, I could have anticipated this back in the dorm office the moment I saw it was a class-46 object.
It looked like I would be able to show Liena a higher sword skill. I was momentarily relieved, until a different emotion raised its head.
The Blue Rose Sword could achieve four-part skills, but no matter how hard I tried, five-parters would not work. What about this new sword? If I was going to test that out, this private moment was the time to do it.
I squeezed the handle and slid my right foot forward, pulling the sword back to my left shoulder and imagining power building up inside it.
Something at the root of my bangs itched, like a warning sign. I shrugged it off, trying to focus.
Chik. Chik. I caught sight of orange sparks along the blade out of the corner of my eye.
This was a totally new and less impressive style of sword-skill flash, compared to the usual dazzling light effects. I concentrated on the mental image of the technique and held the preliminary motion. The sparks continued to blink uncertainly.
I was running out of stamina to continue the unstable stance, and when my strength finally reached its peak, I unleashed it.
“Whoa!” I mumbled as the ground trembled under my extended right foot. The sword went from upper left to lower right, and the system assistance should have shot it back up just before bottom dead center—except that instead, it drove straight into the ground.
A tremendous impact ran through my right wrist. Instantly, I recognized that I would suffer serious injury if I tried to force the sword. Instead, I gritted my teeth, turned my body, and pulled straight back on the sword, which was sunk about eight inches into the ground.
There was a terrific, heavy boom, and I toppled backward onto the grass as my body turned.
Didn’t work. What am I missing? Was it my level? The sword’s priority? Perhaps both…?
I lay spread-eagled on the ground, my thoughts racing. Overhead, I saw dirt and grass floating in the air, thrown by the impact of the sword—
And beyond them, a man standing silently at the edge of the clearing.
He was very tall, dressed in a school uniform, though not the academy’s normal gray. His was a pearly-white color with brilliant cobalt-blue lines. The right to color-coordinate one’s uniform was a privilege allowed only to the school’s twelve elite disciples.
Liena’s was a dark, grayish purple. Golgorosso’s was deep green. And this pearl-white with blue accents belonged to none other than first-seat Volo Levantein.
The dull blond, close-cropped hair and steel-blue eyes stared down impassively, clearly belonging to the unquestioned champion of all students at the academy.
As he watched me lie there, a blob of dirt dislodged by my sword’s impact splattered against his pristine white jacket, sending dark flecks out in a circular pattern.
I’d be lying if I said I never considered fleeing the scene.
If this were Aincrad and he was a senior member of the Divine Dragon Alliance guild, I would have scampered off at once. But running after committing an action was the worst possible choice in this world. Crime piled upon crime, certain to eventually grow into a violation of the terrifying Taboo Index.
So a second later, when I recovered, I quickly took a knee and placed my sword on the ground—the sign of absolute deference—and bowed. “Pardon me, Disciple Levantein! Please forgive my rudeness!”
I hadn’t made such an impassioned apology since the time Asuna smacked me in her private room on the sixty-first floor of Aincrad. I held my head down, hoping against hope.
“You are Disciple Serlut’s page, correct?” he said calmly.
I slowly lifted my head and stared into those blue eyes for an instant, then nodded. “Yes. Primary Trainee Kirito, sir.”
“I see,” the disciple said, glancing at the black sword laid atop the grass. In his rich tenor, he continued, “According to school rules, throwing mud upon the uniform of a senior student is a grave offense worthy of disciplinary punishment…”
At that point, I groaned on the inside.
Disciplinary punishment was the term for a privilege only the elite disciples had, a stand-in for instructor authority. In other words, when students accidentally committed minor violations of school rules, disciples were allowed to punish them. On a number of occasions, I’d been commanded to do a hundred swings for the crime of showing up late to Liena’s room.
As for what happened to students who committed serious offenses—such things did not happen in the Underworld. Major violations did not happen by accident, and artificial fluctlights were incapable of intentionally breaking any law or rule. The only danger of that happening was with me, the natural fluctlight—and I’d made it through a year so far without committing any major faults.
Until now. Splattering mud on the top student’s uniform was a critical mistake.
“…However, I am not critical of your dedication to practicing with the sword in secret on our day of rest. Even if such an act is a violation of the academy’s rules.”
Euuugh. Another silent groan.
In fact, he was right. But if I admitted that, it made disciplinary punishment only more likely. I had to at least try some minimal resistance, whether it worked or not.
“N-no, First Seat. This is not practice. I was, er…trying out my new sword. A weapon I had commissioned in District Seven finally arrived today, and I wasn’t able to wait until tomorrow to swing it…”
At that point, I realized something much more important.
How long had the crew-cut blond been watching me? And what was he even doing here in the first place?
I was here in the woods only to practice combination attacks that did not exist in the Underworld’s sword teachings, and that was so I could show them off to Liena in an attempt to help her defeat Volo. Now things were completely backward—he was the one witnessing them first.
The strongest student in the academy smirked faintly, as though he had understood my entire thought process.
“I heard some very enthusiastic shouts for a simple test swing. But all that I witnessed was you striking the ground with that sword. Let’s say that your feet slipped from using an unfamiliar weapon. I will agree that you were not breaking the rules and practicing on the day of rest, as my reasons for being here are similar.”
This both relieved and confused me. “S-similar…you say?”
“I mean that you are not the only one who tries to find a reason to swing his sword on a day of rest,” he said, shapely lips curling into an invincible grin. Volo looked around the clearing I’d chosen for a swing test. “But in truth, I found this place first. I promised my page that he would be allowed to use it after my graduation, so you’ll need to find a new location.”
That explained things for me. He, too, would come up with some non-practice justification to come out here and train on his off days…and I had the sheer bad luck to be using his secret spot right as he was about to show up. No doubt that the pristinely short condition of the grass here was a consequence of him s
tepping on it every day, resetting its life value.
I made a mental note to find a wilder-looking clearing next time and bowed to him again. “Of course. I will do that, sir. Thank you for your generous understandi—”
“It is too early to be thanking me, Trainee Kirito.”
“S-sir?”
“I said I would overlook your use of the sword on a day of rest. I did not say anything about this.”
My head shot up. He was gesturing with a finger at his uniform breast with a deadly serious expression. At the dark mud stain on the pearl-white fabric.
“B-but, First Seat, you said you weren’t critical of my dedication…”
“Indeed, I am not. So I will not discipline you by commanding you to clean the entire disciples’ dorm or copy a thousand lines of sacred arts.”
Briefly, very briefly, I was relieved.
Then he flicked off some mud and instead commanded, “Primary Trainee Kirito, your discipline shall be a duel with me. Not with wooden swords—you may use that one. I will use this.”
That was when I noticed that hanging at his left side was a real sword, seemingly of quite high priority, with a dull-gold pommel and deep-blue sheath.
“…A…a d-duel…sir?”
“I am referring to training in the form of a match, of course. But this is too cramped a location. The main training hall will be empty on a day of rest. We can go there.”
And with that said, the first-seat disciple spun around on the spot.
I stood there for two seconds, staring at that white jacket as it slid away from the clearing. When my mind started running properly again, I really did consider just scampering away. But failing to complete a disciplinary punishment turned one’s offense from minor into a serious rule-breaking. Given that I wanted to be an elite disciple like Volo after this month’s advancement test, I couldn’t afford to get expelled now.
I lifted up the sword on the ground, returned it to its sheath, and stood up. After a longing glance at the stone wall of the academy through the trees behind me, I followed after that shaved blond head, resigned.
Volo did not trip on any of the varied weeds and grasses that grew thick and clinging outside the clearing.
Belatedly, very belatedly, I realized, Gee…it would be the easiest thing in the world for a guy like him to step out of the way of a flying glob of mud.
5
Right as I left the woods and rejoined the paved footpath, the bells rang four o’clock.
The sky was looking darker now, and some students were around, returning to campus from the city. As they caught sight of the white-and-blue uniform just ahead of me, their eyes bulged.
That was no surprise. Since being named disciple, Volo Levantein had hardly ever left the disciples’ dorm. The only times that anyone other than his page saw him were at the four periodic tests throughout the year. Even I had seen him in the hall of the disciples’ dorm only a few times, and I went in and out of that building every day to see Liena. This was the first time we had ever spoken.
Now that legendary figure was walking with a common-born primary trainee, apparently heading for the main training hall. No wonder they stared.
More frightening to me was that more than a few of them, upon noticing us walking together, started rushing off to the school building and dorm. Pretty soon people all over the academy would be buzzing about something starting in the training hall.
Curfew on a day of rest was seven o’clock, a bit later than usual, so the majority of students would still be out at this hour. But if I wasn’t careful, a whole lot of people might gather to watch us spar. I needed to end things as quickly as possible and escape to Liena’s room…
But wait. How was I going to “end things”?
As Volo had explained, in the academy, a duel was something between practice and an official match. The rules stated that a duel was of the “stop-short” variety, but if both parties agreed, they could use the “first-strike” method that I remembered from SAO. In other words, it was over after the first solid hit.
In that case, the loser would naturally suffer some damage. It was one of the few exceptions to the Taboo Index’s firm law against intentionally damaging the life of another. The first-strike method was forbidden at the Zakkaria garrison, but it was allowed here because they had plenty of expensive healing materials, as well as instructors who could cast powerful sacred arts. In other words, any injury suffered in a duel could be healed.
But Volo had said this should be a duel of real swords, so the stop-short method would have to be in play. That meant that if I wanted to win, I’d have to not only find a way to block or evade that tremendous overhead smash but deliver a counter that stopped just short of landing.
That would be unbelievably tough. And beyond that—should I even try to win?
Volo represented the ultimate goal for Liena’s hard work of the last two years. Was it right for me, her page and pupil, to beat him? Would she be at all happy knowing that I had won…?
As I trudged along, lost in thought and staring at the ground, two sets of footsteps raced into earshot.
I looked up and to the left. There was Sortiliena Serlut, her skirt billowing as she ran, and behind her, my partner, Eugeo. They crossed a grass hill, not the paved path, on a direct line toward us.
I’d never seen Miss Liena running so hard that she panted like this. I stopped in surprise, and Volo did, too, turning to watch them.
In seconds, Liena had reached the path. She spared me a brief, worried glance, then faced off with Volo. She straightened her purple skirt and her back as she said, “Levantein…what is the meaning of this?”
Liena was the only student in the school who did not use a deferential title toward Volo. The students gathered around the scene began to buzz.
The foremost swordsman in the academy took in the piercing navy gaze of her eyes without flinching. His close-cropped head tilted, and he replied, “As you can see, Serlut, your page caused a bit of offense. I didn’t think it was proper to inflict a large disciplinary punishment on a day of rest…so I have challenged him to a single duel.”
A larger buzz than before erupted from the crowd.
Liena finally noticed the large, blotchy stain on Volo’s uniform jacket and bit her lip, a sign of understanding.
As the first seat and second seat faced off, I scooted sideways over to my partner, who was standing at the lip of the crowd. On his face was a familiar look: a blended expression of “What did you do this time?” and “No…not again…”
“You sure showed up quick,” I murmured, and Eugeo nodded.
“I was in the disciples’ dorm mess hall when Zoban’s page rushed in. They said you were going to fight with the first seat, and while I thought that sounded crazy, I went to tell Miss Serlut…I guess it wasn’t crazy after all.”
“Er, yeah…Guess not,” I said lamely. Eugeo sucked in a deep breath, as though preparing to say something, then held it in for a few seconds and expelled most of it in an exhausted sigh.
“You know…it’s a miracle that you didn’t cause any trouble here until today. Please tell me you’re going to get your year’s worth of troublemaking out today.”
“Ah, you haven’t known me all this time for nothing, partner.” I grinned and slapped Eugeo on the back.
Meanwhile, Liena was still staring fiercely at Volo. But even with my poor recollection of all the school rules, I knew there wasn’t any evidence that could overturn my fate.
I left Eugeo and headed to my respected tutor’s side. “I’m sorry to worry you. I’ll be fine, though. If anything…I consider myself lucky to get to face the first seat.”
I tried to read her feelings through those dark-blue eyes. What would she think about her trainee page fighting her biggest rival?
A second later, I deeply regretted it. The only thing I saw in those eyes was concern for my well-being.
“Kirito. What are the rules of your duel?” she asked, to my surprise.
“Uh…well, we’re using real swords, so I assume it’s stop-short—”
“Oh, I forgot to mention,” Volo interjected, his face as placid as ever. “I do not engage in stop-short duels. I cannot help that the academy’s tests are stop-short as a rule, but in personal matches, I only ever fight first-strike.”
“Huh? Th-then…”
At last, the head swordsman at the academy changed expressions. It was a challenge…like a carnivore baring its fangs.
“Of course, a first-strike match requires consent on both sides. So it is written in the Taboo Index and thus takes priority over any disciple’s ability to dictate punishment. If you refuse, I will have to settle for a stop-short duel. The choice is yours, Trainee Kirito.”
Suddenly, the constant muttering of the crowd around us went silent.
I could practically hear Eugeo behind me, willing, Go with stop-short! Naturally, Liena would want the same thing. And even I wasn’t reckless enough to accept a first-strike duel against the toughest man in the school using real blades.
Or so I thought.
“…I’ll leave the choice up to you, First Seat Levantein. I will accept my punishment,” I heard myself say.
Behind me, I sensed Eugeo hanging his head. Liena gasped and held her breath.
And, somewhere atop my head, I got the impression of someone shaking their head in disbelief.
The Main Training Hall of Swordcraft Academy sounded very grand, but behind the name, it was basically just a large gym. The floor was polished white floorboards, with four square match arenas marked out with darker materials. Around them were stands for seating, with enough capacity for all 260 students and faculty during the largest event at the school: the disciple testing tournament.
We stopped near the lines of the southeast arena that Volo had picked out, where at least fifty students had already gathered. Given that it was still before curfew on a day of rest, this probably represented all of the student body currently on campus. There were even three staff members, including—to my surprise—Miss Azurica.
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