And then she saw long bangs waving in the breeze. Lips forming a gentle smile. And two black pupils gazing back at her from the same level.
His lips moved, and his voice emerged:
“I’m back, Asuna.”
Tears burst from her eyes, never-ending, and she couldn’t stop a high-pitched peal from leaving her throat. She clenched her hands before her chest and channeled her wave of emotion into words.
“……Welcome home, Kirito.”
Next, Sortiliena and Ronie called out his name in unison. Kirito nodded to them with a smile and faced forward again. There was a stern quality to his expression.
Over thirty feet away, PoH got back to his feet with a smoothness that seemed to ignore the power of gravity.
The Chinese and Korean players that had been about to kill one another were still entirely frozen by the ice vines, which should have stopped the generation of fresh spatial resources, but the swirling black clouds were still on the move overhead, and PoH’s knife was still absorbing power. The Grim Reaper wasn’t going to stop unless his weapon was destroyed.
Kirito stood up a second later. He faltered but kept his balance. Asuna had to stifle the urge to rush to his side and keep him stable. She barely had the strength to stand herself, so throwing herself into the situation would only make her a liability. Now was the time to believe in Kirito. Just believing would be a source of strength in itself.
Kirito lifted his regenerated arm and drew the black sword from its sheath, right from where it lay on the ground. Then he rose again and felt its weight in his palm.
It was a different shape from his old sword, Elucidator, and the other sword was broken in half—but the image of him dual-wielding black and white blades belonged to none other than the Black Swordsman, who had protected, guided, and granted strength to Asuna from the day they had met.
The white longsword in his left hand sparkled like diamond dust, exuding its frosty aura. The superpower that was immobilizing over twenty thousand soldiers at once was still being maintained, but there was no hint of effort or concentration on Kirito’s face. It was as though someone else was standing at his side, sharing his burden.
Kirito trudged forward, holding two swords at once, staring directly into the two red eyes shining from PoH’s hood. The man spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, exposing the giant hole in his chest.
“…So, you’re awake at last. How long has it been since we stared each other in the face and had a conversation in person?”
The reaper’s voice was harsh, like rusted metal scraping together. Kirito channeled his Aincrad days; his voice was aloof but with a sharp edge at its core. “You know, I’ve lost track. But I know this time will be the last.”
PoH whistled in admiration. “How nice…You’re the best, Kirito. C’mon…Let’s pick up where we left off. We haven’t really cut loose since Aincrad.”
He lifted the Mate-Chopper—which was more of a machete now that it was three times its usual size—as though it were as light as a feather. The black clouds overhead swirled even harder, and dark-red sparks danced around the thick slab of metal.
Kirito, meanwhile, lifted his black sword straight back.
But the moment the sword reached a vertical angle, his weakened body faltered, unable to support the full weight of the weapon.
Asuna already knew that the Underworld wasn’t the same as any other VRMMO world built under The Seed’s specifications. Every object that existed here was a mnemonic visual created solely through memory and was subject to the influence of the brain’s power to envision and imagine.
According to Alice, Kirito had been in an unresponsive state for nearly half a year in this time-accelerated world. He might not have any memory of that span of time, but he would know that his body had been inactive for all of it. So the weakened image of himself in his mind was actually physically crippling him.
But as a matter of fact, that might not have been all of it.
Takeru Higa of Rath had given her an explanation of why Kirito’s self-image had been damaged like that.
It turned out that he had a number of helpers—artificial fluctlights, of course…He had friends. Most of them died in the battle against the Church, but when he finally succeeded in opening the circuit to the outside, he was strongly blaming himself. In other words, he was attacking his own fluctlight. Just then, our shady attackers cut the power line, and the momentary power surge caused an instant spike in the STL’s output. The result was that Kirito’s self-destructive impulse was actualized…and his ego was deactivated.
She’d found it difficult to absorb at the time, but in summary, Kirito had lost someone important to him here, and his sadness had been so great that it had destroyed him. Asuna knew this person’s name, because it had come up over and over again during the night she’d spent trading stories in the tent with Alice, Ronie, and Sortiliena: Eugeo the sword disciple.
Through some miracle, Kirito had recovered, but he still was not accepting of Eugeo’s death. An unending sadness was casting its pall over his mind…and even his physical body.
Kirito, Asuna thought, watching him hold the black sword aloft, I can’t imagine what kind of horrible, heartbreaking things you went through. But I can tell you this: Your friend still lives on inside you. The same way that Yuuki still lives inside me. And that memory will bring you strength. Strength to pick up your sword and fight again.
And, as if her thoughts had become words in his ears, Kirito held the broken sword to his chest, even as the black sword was on high.
Sensing this was a chance to strike, PoH moved. His slender form tilted forward, then burst across the wreckage-strewn ground, closing thirty feet in a blink. His thick machete slid forward, seemingly weightless.
Rather than sidestepping it, Kirito struck with his right sword to deflect the blow. But Asuna could see that his attack had lost its usual bite.
When the longsword made contact with the machete, it fortunately avoided being knocked aside, but Kirito could not bring enough momentum for an even stalemate; the power of the knife pushed his sword straight down. His knee bent, and his back arched like a bow. His boots slid a foot along the dirt.
“…Come on—don’t disappoint me. I’ve been waiting almost two years for this moment…,” growled the reaper in the black poncho. Like its blade, the Mate-Chopper’s handle was enlarged, too, and he added his other hand for leverage.
The point of contact creaked, and Kirito’s knee sank even lower. If only he could switch to a two-handed grip, like PoH…but he had the white sword clutched in his left hand. It was split in two, so it could not be used to attack.
Within Death’s hood, thick lips curved sadistically. Slowly but surely, the blade of the machete approached Kirito’s neck.
“Kirito…!” gasped Sortiliena. She made to stand, holding her broken sword. But Asuna grabbed her shoulder to hold her back.
“It’s all right, Liena,” she whispered, suppressing her own fear. This woman had apparently been his instructor at the swordfighting academy he’d attended. “Kirito will be all right. He won’t lose to that awful man…He’d never.”
And Ronie, whom Kirito had instructed in turn, tearfully agreed. “That’s right. Kirito won’t lose this fight.”
“……Of course,” said Sortiliena. She reached up to squeeze Asuna’s hand where it rested on her shoulder.
But then, as if mocking their assurances, PoH’s Mate-Chopper dug down farther. Kirito’s left knee hit the ground. The arm holding up the black sword was trembling with effort. He seemed to be nearly out of strength.
PoH leaned in closer to Kirito’s strained features. “Drop that piece-of-shit sword and use your other hand already,” he mocked. “Those Chinese and Koreans you’re keeping frozen were killing all your friends, you know that? Why should you care if they kill one another this time?”
Despite the force pressing down on him, Kirito mustered an icy reply to the devil’s temptations. “I know exactly how you do things. You m
ake people fight, you sow the seeds of hatred, and you set up the next conflict. You caused plenty of chaos that way in SAO, but you’re not going to get away with that in the Underworld…I’ll make sure of that.”
“Oh yeah? How so? Once they’re unfrozen, they’re going to slaughter the surviving Japanese and all your precious Underworlders. The only way to stop that is to kill them. Just smash them all to pieces while they’re frozen. Your friends can handle that. Just give the orders…Tell them to kill all the Chinese and Koreans.”
“……”
Kirito did not respond to the venomous suggestion. But Asuna could tell exactly what PoH’s plot was about.
The Chinese and Korean players wrapped in icy vines didn’t seem to be in any pain at the moment, but if they were broken apart, it would cause tremendous agony. The pain would lead to anger and make whatever rage they felt toward the Japanese players permanent.
The deaths of the invading soldiers would also spill a great amount of resources that his Mate-Chopper could absorb. He would have enough power to win the fight against Kirito and slaughter every remaining person.
Kirito had to know that, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. But in order to prevent that disaster, he had to use the sword in his left hand to maintain the freezing spell, making his chances in the fight against his archenemy dire.
With each tremble of the hand holding off the huge machete, more sparks flew off where they intersected. The heavy blade got closer, slowly but surely. There was only a fist’s worth of space between it and Kirito’s left shoulder.
“…But if you wanna be stubborn and die, that’s fine by me,” PoH said, a venomous smile on his lips. “Don’t worry. After I kill you, I’ll murder the Flash and everyone else, too.”
The reaper’s eyes glowed like will-o’-the-wisps in the darkness of the hood. His mouth opened all the way to his cheekbones, revealing sharp fangs.
“Come on…Let me taste your lifeblood, Kirito.”
PoH licked his lips with a pointed, reptilian tongue and put even more strength into the Mate-Chopper. The black sword screamed in protest. The fatal edge was closing the gap, a fraction of an inch per second…
Suddenly, from just over Asuna’s shoulder, she heard a voice praying, “Please, Eugeo, save Kirito.”
Asuna, Sortiliena, and Ronie turned around to see Tiese, the red-haired girl, with her hands clasped before her chest. A moment later, Asuna sensed Tiese’s hair billowing outward nearly imperceptibly and a ripple like a breeze in the air.
She turned to face forward again.
The enlarged Mate-Chopper had just made contact with Kirito’s shoulder. That was enough for the fabric of his black shirt to split. Asuna held her breath, anticipating the sight of her lover’s blood flowing.
But…instead, the Mate-Chopper stopped there.
In fact, it was inching back upward, bit by bit. But where was Kirito’s exhausted arm finding the strength…?
“Ah……,” murmured someone, either Ronie or Sortiliena.
Asuna saw it, too: another arm, golden and translucent, gripping the handle of the black sword.
A moment later, Kirito noticed it as well. His eyes widened, then his face scrunched up. Tears welled in his eyes and fell, glistening in the light.
His lips budged, too, but she couldn’t make out his voice.
Then, a moment later, a fierce scream erupted from his throat.
“Raaaaaaaaah!!”
He jolted the Mate-Chopper backward. PoH’s arms were thrown back, and he toppled over, swearing. Kirito promptly stood up from his kneeling position and thrust his broken white sword upward into the air.
“Release Recollection!!”
An impossibly bright burst of light covered everything, turning the world white. PoH put up a hand to block his face.
Through squinting eyes, Asuna saw the ugly, broken blade of the sword collecting the concentrated and crystallized light as it regenerated itself. In just a few seconds, the sword was whole again.
Schwing!! It flashed even brighter, a pulse that spread outward. After a moment of silence, a pure, grand wave of sound came into being, like hundreds, thousands of bells ringing at once. The four women looked around, wide-eyed.
The frozen-white VRMMO players from China and Korea sprouted millions of flowers—brilliant-blue roses, as delicate as if carved from lapis lazuli.
The great bloom of roses began to exude silver particles from the blossoms’ cores. It was pure life resources—Asuna understood on instinct that this was the HP of the players.
Players who had been surging with fury just minutes ago, ready to kill one another, now turned to pillars of light with their eyes peacefully closed. They vanished without pain or suffering of any kind. It was the most serene possible way to achieve a forced log-out.
Now the seeds of hatred PoH had tried to plant in the other players would not bloom into flowers of their own.
“What the hell…do you think you’re doing?!” snarled the reaper, his plot undone. But just as quickly, he regained his wild smirk and lifted his machete.
Asuna knew what he was planning to do. Now there were life resources—what the Underworlders would call “sacred power”—floating all over the battlefield from the millions of blue roses. He was going to use his weapon’s suction power to absorb all of it.
“Kirito…!” she cried, feeling a jolt of panic.
Absorbing the lives of two thousand murdered Japanese players earlier had caused the Mate-Chopper to swell to three times its size and given it power at least equal to Stacia’s GM equipment. If it absorbed ten times that number, PoH would turn into a demon…a true devil. If Kirito was immobilized from executing the wide-scale art, then Asuna would have to help…
But before she could will a last burst of strength into her wilted legs, she heard Yuuki’s voice again, whispering into her ear like a gentle breeze.
It’s all right…Look.
That was when Asuna realized that the silver lights gathering in midair and forming several rippling ribbon strips were completely ignoring PoH’s Mate-Chopper. No matter how hard he thrust it into the sky and focused, they made no motion toward the blade.
The voice sounded in her head again.
You said it, remember? Life is a tool that transports and relates the heart.
All these people from different countries who gathered in this place? They don’t really want to kill one another.
Everyone has the same wish. To go to a world of excitement and fun…A great, beautiful, thrilling world like the land of fairies where you and I met, Asuna…That’s all there is to it.
“…Yeah. You’re right, Yuuki,” Asuna whispered, inaudible to anyone else.
Right on that cue, Kirito lifted the black sword in his other hand so that both his swords were pointing to the sky. The swirling black clouds that PoH had summoned began to reverse direction and dissipate. A little hole of blue sky peeked through the center, allowing a ray of golden sun to hit the black blade and make it shine like crystal.
“Release Recollection,” Kirito said, for the second sword this time, savoring the sound of the words.
Instantly, the softly rippling sheets of silver began to knit themselves together and flow into the black sword.
“Suck!” screamed PoH in English, and he swung the Mate-Chopper to compete with the flow. But the ribbons had a mind of their own and avoided his evil dagger, fusing with Kirito’s sword instead.
“…Eugeo told me that Kirito’s black sword was once a gigantic cedar tree at the very far north of the human realm,” explained Tiese in a trembling voice.
Sortiliena nodded in recognition. “Of course…that’s why it has the ability to suck in sacred power…”
Their words fused with what she’d just heard Yuuki say, and Asuna finally understood the nature of what was happening.
If Kirito’s black sword had the ability to absorb resources, then why was it able to pull in what the blue roses were exuding, even though PoH’s M
ate-Chopper couldn’t, despite the fact that it, too, had absorbing powers? That was because the evil dagger sucked in not life resources but death resources.
PoH himself had said it: The Mate-Chopper got stronger the more people it killed. If it was the owner’s power of imagination that granted the wicked knife the ability to absorb resources, then it could devour death resources spilled by bloody murder, but it could not suck up the life resources that the white sword coaxed out through nonlethal means.
But Kirito’s black sword was different. If it was originally created from a tree that grew on the strength of the earth and the sun, then both the sword and the mental association in the mind of its owner would allow it to absorb that life.
The white sword in his left hand froze targets across a wide stretch of land, releasing their life into the air.
The black sword in his right hand then sucked up that life power from all over, converting it to energy.
It was a very simple but thus incredibly powerful bit of synergy. The perfect pairing. Ideal partners.
As it drew in the vast length of silvery ribbon, the center of the black sword began to shine a dazzling golden color. The resources were traveling through the hilt into Kirito’s arm, as well.
His shriveled body, as skinny as a stick, rapidly began to regain its original strength. The recovery phenomenon wasn’t isolated to just his body; the shirt that had been ripped here and there during the fighting was instantly repaired. Fingerless gloves appeared on his hands, and riveted boots on his feet.
The line of light traveled from his shoulders down his arms, then down his back. A moment later, a shining black leather texture appeared there. It was his trademark long coat from the SAO days. When the ends of the coat settled down and lay still, the two sheaths lying discarded on the ground flew up and affixed themselves to his back in a crossed configuration.
“……Kiri…to……”
Asuna, overwhelmed by emotion, stared at the figure of Kirito the Black Swordsman, back in his dual-wielding form, through eyes blurred with tears. Sortiliena and Ronie had shining streaks down their cheeks on either side of her, too. Behind them, Tiese was sobbing.
Alicization Lasting Page 5