“Th-that’s total nonsense!” Asuna exploded before Nezha had barely finished. “That would mean you could butt in and attack someone else’s monster, or create a train that attacks someone else, or any other thing that’s completely against proper manners! In fact, since the anti-crime code is turned off outside of towns, that would mean it’s totally okay to—”
She stopped mid-sentence as if afraid that saying it out loud might cause it to come true.
Without thinking, I reached out and brushed Asuna’s arm, the white skin even paler than usual. In most cases, she would pull several feet away in disgust, but now, that contact grounded her emotions, and the tension drained out of her.
I pulled my hand away and asked Nezha, “Was that all the poncho man said?”
“Er … yes. We nodded to him, he stood up, said ‘good luck,’ and left the bar. I haven’t seen him since,” he said, his eyes wandering as though searching his memory banks. “Now it all seems very mysterious … After he left, the guild most certainly changed. Everyone seemed very gung ho on the idea. I’m ashamed to admit that I decided I would rather be the centerpiece of the money-making scheme than be relegated to useless baggage, dragging everyone down. But …”
Expression flooded back into Nezha’s face. He squeezed his eyes shut and grimaced.
“But … the first time I tried the trick … when I broke that substitute weapon and saw the look on the customer’s face, I knew. Just because it was possible within the game didn’t make it right. I should have given the real sword back and explained everything … but I didn’t have the guts. When I went back to the hangout bar, I was going to say we should call it quits, but … but when they saw the sword I stole … they were so, so happy, and they said how great I was, and … and … and I just couldn’t—!”
Wham! He suddenly slammed his forehead down straight onto the table. Purple light flashed off the walls of the room. He did the same thing again, then again, but his HP were protected by the game code in town.
He didn’t know what to do. We’d prevented him from attempting suicide, he had no means of replacing the victims’ belongings, and he couldn’t even return to his friends.
If there was one way to atone for his sins, it would be to publicly admit his actions and apologize to the playerbase. But I couldn’t demand that he do it. I couldn’t guarantee that all of the honest, upfront players fighting to free us all from Aincrad, some of whom were his victims, would forgive Nezha for his actions. And I couldn’t imagine the punishments they might devise for him if they didn’t.
The only realistic solution I could come up with was to have him go through the teleporter back to the Town of Beginnings and hide himself in that vast city. Or perhaps he could reverse course, going back to fighting, and find some way to contribute through battle. The problem with that was that throwing knives were a total sub-skill, better for nothing more than distracting enemies …
But then I remembered a rare piece of loot I had gotten from a difficult Taurus Ringhurler in the labyrinth just earlier that day. It was rare but not particularly valuable, and of no use to me—something very eccentric and long-ranged.
“… Nezha.”
He raised his forehead off the table an inch. I saw cheeks wet with tears.
“What’s your level?”
“… I’m level 10.”
“Then you’ve still only got three skill slots. What are you using?”
“One-Handed Weapon Crafting, Inventory Expansion … and Throwing Knives …”
“I see. If I told you that I had a weapon you could use … would you be prepared to give up on crafting? On your Blacksmith skill?”
11
WEDNESDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2022.
The tenth day since we had beaten the boss of the first floor, and the thirty-eighth day since we’d first been trapped inside this game of death.
The collective “front-line players,” including me and Asuna, had finished progressing through the massive labyrinth tower brimming with muscled bull-men, and finally reached the chamber of the second-floor boss.
Our raid, made up of eight different parties, was at a total of forty-seven, just under the limit allowed by the game. Despite the loss of Diavel the knight and those too shocked by his death to take part, the group had grown, thanks to the addition of the five warriors from the Legend Braves.
Lind the scimitar user, formerly Diavel’s right-hand man, led his blue group with three parties totaling eighteen members. Once we’d cleared the second floor and they initiated the guild quest on the next floor up, they were planning to establish the Dragon Knights guild. The knights part was clearly an homage to the spirit of their fallen leader, but I didn’t know where the “dragon” came from.
With another eighteen was the green group, gathered around their opposition to beta testers. Led by Kibaou, who swung a one-handed sword just like me, they’d already decided on their own guild name: the Aincrad Liberation Squad.
That accounted for six parties and thirty-six members. Next was Agil, the massive axe-wielder and his three friends (all muscled like he was, for some reason), Asuna the fencer, the only female in the group, and then Kirito the evil beater. That made forty-two. With the five added members of the Legend Braves, that made a total of forty-seven, just one under the limit.
I sat in the corner of the large safe zone just outside the boss chamber, watching the separate groups check their equipment and distribute potions. I leaned over to Asuna, who was once again wearing her trademark hood, and whispered, “Just one more and we’d have a full raid.”
“True … I guess he didn’t make it in time.”
“We got to the boss chamber a lot faster than I expected … It’s a tough quest to beat in just three days,” I bemoaned. Asuna shot me a dirty glare.
“Well, from what I hear, it even took a certain someone three days and two nights to finish it.”
Three days earlier, in the village of Taran near the labyrinth, I had given Nezha a special kind of ranged weapon and a map.
The map pointed out the location of an NPC hidden in the rocky mountains along the outer perimeter of the second floor, and the secret passageway to reach him. This NPC was none other than the bearded Martial Arts skill master who had drawn the whiskers on my cheeks that turned me into Kiriemon.
I asked Nezha if he was prepared to give up on the weapon-crafting skill he’d spent so much time on, and take up Martial Arts instead. The weapon I’d picked up in the second-floor labyrinth required both the Throwing Knives and Martial Arts skills to use.
Abandoning a skill was not an easy decision to make, even when it was only a day or two of experience being lost. In the case of a blacksmith, working the skill upward was both a matter of time and considerable money. In other MMOs, it was as easy as rolling an alternate character, but now that SAO was a “one character per account” system by virtue of our predicament, that wasn’t an option. The most rational choice was to wait until he reached the level that would open up another skill slot. Another choice might be to remove the Inventory Expansion skill that gave him extra room for items.
But instead, in exchange for the weapon and map, I demanded that Nezha remove his blacksmithing skill.
In SAO’s current state, attempting to balance crafting and combat was too dangerous. A player venturing into the field needed to focus everything under his control on maximizing the chances of survival, from his skill choices, to his equipment, to his inventory. Plenty of even the most well-prepared players had lost their lives because they were missing that last bit of attack strength, or armor value, or one more potion.
Nezha took just one deep breath before accepting my harsh demands.
“As long as I can be a swordsman here, I don’t need anything else,” he said, then smiled and added, “but I suppose using this thing won’t make me a swordsman.”
Surprisingly, it was Asuna who answered, “Everyone fighting to help beat this game is a swordsman. Even a pure crafter.”
> We had guided Nezha past the battles to the entrance of the secret passage and left him there. His level was high enough, and I considered inviting him to join the boss battle if his Martial Arts training finished in time, but it seemed three days wasn’t enough for him to break that rock. There was no need to rush. Nezha wouldn’t be risking danger by attempting weapon fraud again.
“He’ll be a big help in beating the third floor, I’m sure. It’s a pretty good weapon if you can master it, and he’ll be able to find a spot in some guild or other. One aside from the Braves, I’m guessing …”
“Yes … I hope so,” Asuna agreed. We looked across the safe zone at a group of five. Orlando was wearing his usual pointed bascinet helm and Anneal Blade. Beowulf was the short man with the double-handed sword next to him, and the skinny spearman was Cuchulainn. There were also two others that weren’t present during the battle against the Bullbous Bow: Gilgamesh, who fought with a hammer and shield, and Enkidu, who was outfitted with leather armor and daggers.
At this morning’s meeting, I detected a mixture of unease and discontent among the Legend Braves. I had to assume it was the disappearance of Nezha, their sixth member. If they had been an established guild, they could use location trackers to find him, but here on the second floor, guilds were nothing but names.
I could understand their concern, but I was under no obligation to explain the situation to them. After all, they’d forced Nezha to undertake a weeklong string of dangerous scams that easily could have led to his execution if anything was exposed to the public.
“That’s all nice and good, Kirito, but we shouldn’t be spending our time worrying about the state of other parties.”
“Oh? Why?” I blinked. She sighed in exasperation.
“Lind said we’d put the raid group together just before the boss fight, but think about it. There are three parties for the blue team, three parties for the green team, one for the Braves, and probably one last one for Agil’s group. That makes eight.”
“Oh … g-good point.”
I hadn’t given it any thought since she mentioned it, but eight parties was the maximum for a raid. In the first boss fight, we’d had a lower number, and Asuna and I got to be in our own leftover party, but that wouldn’t be an option this time.
Without any magic, SAO didn’t have the usual full-raid heals and buffs, so it was quite possible for extra people to take part in the battle outside of the raid. The problem was that being outside the group meant you couldn’t see the HP of the other members, and they couldn’t see yours. It made gauging the proper timing of potion rotation very tricky.
I had to make sure that Asuna at least made her way into Agil’s party. I looked around for the axe-warrior’s distinct shape.
“Hey, you two. Good to see you again,” came a baritone voice from behind me. I turned around to see the very man I was looking for.
His craggy face split into a grin, the light shining off his bald head. “I hear you two have paired up. I guess I should congratulate you.”
“Um… we’re …”
Not a pair, I tried to say, but Asuna set the record straight.
“We’re not a pair. It’s just a temporary partnership. Nice to see you, Agil.”
Agil smiled again and looked at me, raising an eyebrow. It was a cool gesture, but it felt as though he meant it in a consoling way. I hastily cleared my throat.
“Y-yes, well, um… that’s right. So I’m guessing we’re about to finalize the raid structure, since we’re almost at the absolute limit for eight parties …”
I was planning to ask them if they would take Asuna in their party, but again, I didn’t get the chance to finish.
“Yeah, that’s what I came to ask you about. There are four of us, so why don’t you two join our group?”
It was such a breezy, careless invitation that I couldn’t help but hesitate.
“Um… well, that’s really generous of you, but are you sure? I mean, given my standing …”
Asuna sighed and Agil shrugged his shoulders and threw up his hands. That gesture, combined with his appearance, was clearly not Japanese, but his command of the language was perfect, so there was a strange mixture of exoticism and familiarity about the man that made him both fascinating and charismatic.
“What do they call you, a beater? It’s only a tiny percent of people who actually call you that.”
Even the word beater sounded fresh and new coming from his lips. Most people, including me, pronounced it with a flat intonation, like cheater, but he stressed the bee and softened the ter, which made it almost sound like a cool title to have.
“We actually have our own nickname for you.”
“Really? What is it?” Asuna asked. Agil glanced at her and grinned.
“The Man in Black. Or Blackie.”
She snorted. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with that epithet—I hadn’t chosen the color of the coat I looted from the kobold boss—but even more startling to me was that she’d actually laughed. I peered into her hood in curiosity.
Asuna quickly composed her expression and gave me a familiar glare before continuing, “Thanks for the offer, Agil. I suppose we’ll take you up on it—me and Blackie.”
“Oh, come on, you’re not going to run with that, are you?” I protested.
Asuna replied, “Blackie, as in the prompters who wear all black during a play, right? Sounds perfect for a guy who hates being in the spotlight.”
“… Oh … I see. But that’s not exactly the same…”
“I mean, if you’d prefer that I just call you Mr. Kirito all the time, I can do that.”
“… Like I said, that’s not exactly the same …”
Agil, who grinned as he watched our bickering, burst out laughing at that point. “If you two are that in tune, then I’m leaving the switch timing up to you. The four of us will focus on tanking, so you guys do the damage.”
He held out both hands, and Asuna shook his right, while I took the left. I bowed briefly to the other three behind him and received waves and thumbs-up in return. I hadn’t talked with them much at the first-floor boss battle, but they all seemed to be as good-natured as Agil.
I accepted Agil’s party request and noted the six HP bars lined up on the left side of my view, just as we hit fifteen minutes until the battle would begin. The noise of conversation died down toward the front, so I turned to see that two players were now standing before the massive doors to the boss’s chamber.
One of them was Lind, decked out in silver armor, blue cape, and scimitar at his waist. The other was Kibaou, with his dark armor and moss-green jacket.
“Ugh, not another double-leader situation,” I groaned.
“Isn’t there only one leader by definition within the system?” Asuna asked.
“That’s a good point …”
As if sensing our confusion, Lind raised a hand and spoke loudly to the group. Unlike the area outside the first-floor boss chamber, this was a safe zone, so there was no fear of tauruses coming to investigate the noise.
“Well, it’s time. Let’s start forming the raid! First, an introduction: I’m Lind, chosen to be your leader today. Greetings, everyone!”
Before I could even wonder how Kibaou would willingly give up control, the cactus-headed man interjected, “Only chosen ’cuz ya won a coin flip.”
Half the gathering laughed at this, while the other half looked upset. Lind shot Kibaou a dirty glare, but he did not respond to the bait.
“…The fact that we’re already here, just ten days after opening this floor, is a testament to your skill and dedication! If you lend me your help, there’s no way we can fail to beat this boss! Let’s finish the day on the third floor!”
He raised a fist, and all of those who didn’t laugh at Kibaou’s jibe roared in approval.
With his rousing speech and long hair, formerly brown but now dyed blue, Lind seemed to be fully accepting the role of Diavel’s heir. I couldn’t help but feel that here and there, hints o
f self-consciousness that his predecessor never displayed peeked through the facade.
“Now let’s form the raid! Of the eight parties, the Dragon Knights will form teams A, B, and C. Kibaou’s Liberation Squad will make up teams D, E, and F, and team G will be Orlando’s Braves. And team H …”
He looked to us in the very back. For an instant, his breezy smile seemed to vanish when his eyes met mine, but he looked past me just as quickly.
“… will be the rest of you. Teams A through F will concentrate on the boss, while G and H handle the mobs …”
This news did not come as a surprise to me. What was surprising, however, was the voice that spoke up in response.
“Hang on just a moment.”
It wasn’t Agil and certainly wasn’t Asuna. It was the leader of the group of five on the far wall: Orlando.
When he spoke, the eyes staring out from beneath his bascinet visor were just as piercing as when they’d nearly seen through my hiding ability outside the bar.
“We’re here to fight the boss. If you want us to rotate around, I might understand, but we’re not going to just hang back and deal with mobs.”
His brassy voice echoed off the walls and died out, the ensuing lull filled by the fevered murmuring of the blue and green players. I could make out mutters of “Who do they think they are?” and “Bloody newcomers.”
Then it all clicked into place for me.
With the disappearance of Nezha, Orlando and his team had just lost a huge source of income. This was their chance to leap out to the head of the clearers. The money earned by the raid party was equally shared between all members, but the experience points and skill boosts were not. The enormous store of experience points the boss was worth would be distributed by the amount of damage done (or blocked), and the skill proficiency gained by attacking a powerful enemy was far beyond that of a normal foe. None of that went to them if they didn’t attack the boss directly.
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