Fate/Revelation Online

[daniel_gudman]

Ilya likes to play video games, and in the time she has remaining, Shirou is more than willing to play the new VR game with her. But when they are trapped inside the game, [Sword Art Online], they determine something even more distressing: Kayaba Akihiko is definitely a Magus.


I was asked to mirror the preview thread (for stuff I haven't archived on ffnet) somewhere that isn't gated by registration, so here you go!

Internal Links:
Idea and Planning Thread (SPOILERS)

Spoiler: External Links

FRO archived on ffnet (click that to read the first 350k words).
TV Trope page (feel free to contribute to that if you'd like)

Spoiler: second-order fanfiction

Yes people really have written fanfiction set in the same setting in my fanfiction, and I hassled them with my opinions. You can go read them:

Tales from the Mid-Liners (on TFF) (and on ffnet) by Leidolf
Not all Players stand on the Front Lines. But in a [Death Game] they're also betting their lives on their efforts.

A Mirror's Honest Reflection (on TFF) (and on ffnet) by Hardcore Heathen
Not everyone trapped in the Death Game could be a Hero. Could you do your best, even so?

FRO - At the Dusk of Knowledge (on TFF) by Mokofooja
For something as groundbreaking as the first VRMMO, of course people outside Japan would try to play. Some succeeded. Now, trapped in the [Death Game], isolated by the language barrier and having only each other, how will they survive?

A Certain Silent Neuromancer (SV) by PlotVitalNPC
This is the story of the misfit guild [Neko Cafe Nyan*Nyan] and associates as they straddle the dividing lines of their virtual world, but also the story of one [Silent] girl as she finds everything she was ever looking for in life.

Spoiler: content on TheFanfictionForum

Preview thread
Idea Thread (I solicit feedback on my brainstorming, forward planning, etc)
Spoiler-free Q&A thread (but you can just do that here instead)
"You're trapped in FRO!" thread game
Note that the above are to an InvisionFree board that requires registration for CYA reasons, click here to register there

and now what you're actually here for, starting from Chapter Fifteen

 

[daniel_gudman]

15.1 Hexadecimal and Shirou

I I I

A pause in the combat.

Hexadecimal breathed out, raising the weapons crossed in front of him slightly and lowering them, settling into a guard stance as he shifted his stance. In his left hand, a star-shaped mace, and in his right hand, a double-bladed axe.

Across from him, standing calmly, was an enemy he could not defeat, holding a longsword forward in a basic guard.

His nose itched under his mask. But he ignored it, because dealing with it would be an opening he couldn't afford to present.

"Round Two." He muttered, and then darted forward.

He feinted with his axe, which was ignored with a half-step evasion, and then swung his mace around, a high blow towards the head.

That was also dodged, but Hexi had expected that. He followed with a counter-swing, stepping his left foot back out, then falling forward and swinging low with his axe from the other side.

But the enemy wasn't fooled, stepping into the blow and stopping it short with a parry.

And then the sword twisted around like a snake, whipping around and thrusting forward.

"Gah!" Hexi rolled backwards, sacrificing his stance as he landed on his butt, continuing the motion as he went over his right shoulder, rolling away and landing on his knees, looking up.

The sword was bearing down on him.

"Athame." He announced, as he raised his mace. "Weld."

A curse of sacrifice that subtracted one from one and put them both at zero. The instant the sword hit his mace, it parted like butter, the head allowing the sword to slice it. But the effect lasted only an instant, and then ended.

By softening the outer part of his weapon, he could allow the enemy weapon to deeply bite into it, and then when the spell ended they would be deeply stuck together.

His opponent grunted, tugging on his sword, which was hooked to his mace.

Because Hexi was holding the mace with only his left hand while crouched on his knees, while his opponent was firmly gripping his sword with both hands from a solid stance, it was obvious who would win that tug of war.

But that was okay. Hexi left himself get tugged around, instead concentrating on swiping with the axe in his other hand. The swing inward and then upward were both avoided, but at least he managed to get back on his feet.

But abruptly the enemy released the sword, shoving it aside as he pushed outward with both hands, before stepping in, hands flattening, paddle-like.

His left hand was wrenched down as he was abruptly left awkwardly holding the fused mace and sword.

And his right hand was forced away as the opponent chopped at the handle of his axe, forcing it away from him, leaving Hexi's body completely open.

The right hand went up, ready to deliver a finishing blow that would cleave Hexadecimal in half.

Hexi gaze dropped from his opponent's raised hand to his eyes.

"Nazar." He said, and the prana circled around his iris, shooting out from his pupils.

The Mystic Eye of Binding.

A spell formula engraved on the surface of his eyeball that activated just by applying prana. It allowed him to hijack someone's body and control it as a puppet regardless of their will.

However, it could be defeated with Magic Resistance just like any other spell, so it wasn't really suitable for use against someone else with Circuits.

Indeed, his opponent stiffened for only a moment, before the spell was defeated.

But that instant was all Hexi needed.

He jumped back, and threw his axe overhand, sending it spiraling through the air.

His opponent knocked it aside, but that was fine.

Hexi swiped open his menu and tapped open the equipment page, and clicked once more.

Twin rapiers appeared in his hands.

His opponent slowly cocked his head sideways, considering.

"Trace: On."

A virtualized wireframe appeared in his hands, and then popped into reality as it was fleshed out.

Its appearance was exactly the same as the longsword from before.

Hexi pinched his swords more tightly between his fingers, considering.

His menu was still in front of him. He was prepared.

"Nazar: Lock." He said.

And then he darted forward, stabbing up with one blade and down with the other.

They both knew the thrust to the head was a feint. His real goal was to pierce the shadow beneath his opponent and pin him in place.

But if his opponent prioritized parrying the thrust to the ground, Hexi would happily change priority and stab him in the neck or lung instead.

But his opponent was equal to the challenge. The tip of his sword rotated widely, but his shoulders moved in a right circle.

The very end of his blade swept up the rapier that was thrusting to the ground, continued around, and caught the thrust to his chest.

Both of Hexi's swords were pushed to the side, held outside his opponent's sword. To put it another way, he couldn't parry the coming counterattack, since both his swords were forced to the side.

So he didn't try. He retreated a step, releasing both swords and letting them clatter to the ground.

His hand darted down in front of him, tapping his menu again, and two more rapiers appeared in his hands. His right hand dipped, thrusting towards the ground.

His opponent darted back, moving his shadow out of the way just as the sword bit into the ground.

But Hexi pressed his advantage, darting forward to stab again with the other sword, even as he tapped his menu again.

That sword was also sidestepped, but a third pair of rapiers materialized in his hands.

A thrust with the right hand towards the opponent's hip was dodged, and the feint towards the face with the other blade that twisted and dipped towards his shadow failed to pin.

Hexi grimaced. On one hand, he had the initiative and his opponent was the one reacting. On the other hand, he didn't have an infinite number of rapiers to do this with. Rather than getting pressed back, it was more like his opponent was calmly letting Hexi exhaust his options.

Wrenching the sword free from the ground would be exactly the opening that would get him cut in half.

He needed to try something else.

So he simply threw his other sword. He didn't try to spear the opponent. He simply tossed it underhand, hoping to tangle him up for a moment.

And of course rather than tangling up his legs it was caught like a twirling baton and smoothly deflected off to the side.

But it was enough.

What he materialized this time weren't swords, or even melee weapons.

In each hand, he was gripping a metal ball bigger than his own clenched fist. From the bottom side a chain dangled from them, and on the other side of the chain was another steel ball.

Heavy-weight bolas. He spun them up, spinning them around in each hand.

The first would herd, and the second would definitely capture the opponent. He would throw with the right hand, and force the opponent to dodge towards his left, right into the path of his other attack.

He threw, aiming for the legs.

The bola whistled through the air.

However, rather than dodging, his opponent simply whipped his longsword up and stabbed it upright into the ground, before stepping back.

The bola struck the sword. The chain grew unnaturally, extending as it twisted around and engulfed the weapon, both steel balls accelerating too much before they slammed into the blade even as it was ripped out of the ground.

But it was enough.

His opponent had simply sacrificed his sword, and juked to Hexi's right side, which was now unarmed.

Hexi grunted in annoyance, twisting awkwardly as he threw the second bola.

Too high. His opponent simply ducked underneath, sprinting forward.

"Trace: On."

Hexi stepped back, but he couldn't retreat as quickly as his enemy could advance.

The edge of the longsword was pressed against his neck.

"I have one more trick." Hexadecimal said, meeting his opponent's eyes.

"Nazar: Converge." He said.

The sword caught against his neck, a smooth and accurate pulling cut.

In the field, it would have sawed off his head with a single stroke. But here in a [Safe Zone], all it did was knock him to the ground.

But he twisted as he fell, managing to quickly re-establish his sight on the target.

All the weapons that he had abandoned, that he had thrown away or left behind, flew towards the target of his sight.

The very first to arrive was the axe, tossed aside earlier, whirling in like a boomerang.

It clashed, sparks flying from where it struck against the sword.

Then the bola whipped in, and his opponent raised his sword like a salute, once more sacrificing his blade to entangle the bola.

Rather than getting ripped out of his hands, he simply let it slide from his palms as the bola slammed into it, wrapping around it.

But then the rapiers came.

His control with this spell wasn't good enough to make them fly point first like arrows, but the blade adjacent to the hilt was wickedly sharp, so there was still danger.

Shortswords appeared in each hand, rapidly batting away rapiers, three in quick succession, with alternating strokes, even as the enemy turned towards him.

Two more, one that was knocked aside from behind without looking, and the other that whipped out to the side at neck level, sending the rapier tumbling around the blade.

Then the other sword was thrown at him.

Hexi jerked back, instinctively blinking as the sword buried into the ground next to his head.

Of course, the instant he closed his eyes, his spell was broken.

"Damn." He cursed, flopping down on his side.

The shortsword in the ground beside him and the one remaining in the other man's hand dissolved into motes of light.

"You did well." The enemy praised, stepping forward to offer a hand.

Looking up at [The Sixth Ranger], Hexi felt like he was standing at the base of a mountain where the peak couldn't even be seen because it pierced the clouds.

"Thanks." He said, shortly, and accepted the hand, getting helped up. He looked around, clicking through his inventory. "I wonder if you were going easy on me though."

Hexi was struggling to control his breathing, and he was sweating all over his whole body.

Meanwhile, the Ranger didn't look even a little bit tired. He simply turned and started walking casually.

The so-called [Fortress of Saint Mark], the name that was the compromise when the rest of the guild vetoed the first suggestion, [Ilya's Castle], and also the guildmaster's second proposal, [Castle Greyskull].

A small [Safe Zone] on the east side of the [Eighth Floor], with a large Player-owned property, an opulent castle that served as the headquarters of the guild, [The Brotherhood of Saint Mark].

The courtyard had been modified to an arena with a hard-packed dirt floor, with the smithy adjacent to it. Or rather than a smithy, the designated [Workshop] of the Sixth Ranger, where he developed and worked on swords.

The reason for the layout was to accommodate exactly the activity they had just been participating in: [The Sixth Ranger] testing the skills of a Player looking to commission a sword from him.

"You're getting better." The Ranger said encouragingly, glancing over his shoulder. "If I had let my guard down I would have been in trouble." He was taking the lead, walking over to the door of his workshop.

"I guess." Hexi said, shaking his head as he fell in step.

He wanted to avoid this conversation. What he was expecting to happen, he didn't want to deal with it.

It was just like Kibaou. Growing closer by communicating with your fists, nonsense like that. You can talk to us, they said. You don't have to bottle it up.

It wasn't like that.

The sadness, the anger, he couldn't express it. He didn't want to express it. He felt like his feelings would be damaged even worse if he brought them out where other people could see them.

They wouldn't want you to sacrifice yourself, so be careful, okay?

I know that, idiot. Even if I was the one with the most knowledge and the best strength, it was that other guy that acted like the Senpai. And she had believed in him totally. Her faith in him had scared and unbalanced him.

It wasn't like he wanted to die. It wasn't like he thought they would want him to die, either. If anything, it was the opposite. They would want him to live. That wasn't deceiving himself, it was honestly what he believed. He would live on, for their sake.

But even so, it burned.

The only way to silence his own dissatisfaction was with effort.

So he didn't want to deal with any of this. He hated it when other people assumed they knew what was going on in his head.

He wanted to run away, but more than that, he wanted to crush arrogant sympathy.

"So why did you want to spar me?" Hexi said, preparing himself for this conversation.

"Hm? The normal reason. I wanted to assess your fighting skills so I could get an idea of what kind of sword you need." The Sixth Ranger said, slightly non-plussed as he opened the door.

"That's it?" Hexi said, uncertain.

"Yes." The Ranger nodded, easily. "The whole reason you are here is because you told Ilya you wanted to settle on one sword, right?"

Hexadecimal opened his mouth, and slowly closed it as he switched gears, taking advantage of the natural pause as they walked inside.

"Not exactly." Hexi replied. "It's more like... well, the last [Floor Patch] removed a tab from Inventory, right?"

Items, Equipment, and Materials.

Those were the three tabs in the [Inventory] page of the [Player Menu].

Custom tabs like [Key Items] or [Shared Items] could be created.

But, after the last Floor Boss, something unusual happened. Rather than content getting added, it was taken away.

'As a feature enhancement for greater realism, the [Items Tab] in the [Inventory] is being removed. All such items must now be materialized and physically carried.' That was what the announcement had said.

Since [Crystals] had been removed all the way back during the [Official Launch], the effect was minor.

Mostly it affected [Potions], which for Front Liners were mostly Player-Crafted support items, expensive trumps to be used sparingly.

"It got me thinking." Hexi explained, crossing his arms. "If the [Item] tab could be taken away, what about the [Equipment] tab? That would break my entire build."

Originally, in the Beta, he had just played Rock-Paper-Scissors with damage types. Bludgeoning, piercing, slashing, elemental affinities, all of it; rather than specializing in one kind of weapon, he had just used whatever the enemy was weak against.

Honestly, it was more because he got satisfaction out of learning, tracking, and exploiting enemy weaknesses, rather than because it was really a better play style. He had gotten locked out of high-end skills, and since his Col was spread across more weapons, the average quality of each equipment wasn't so great. And he had to do stuff like exploit the [Marriage] mechanic to get the inventory space he needed.

That was in the Beta.

But now, with [Thaumaturgy], it was more like he used many different weapons as ritual tools to create weaknesses.

He was a debuff specialist. The mace that trapped enemy weapons, the rapiers that pinned shadows, even his Mystic Eye were all fundamentally debuffs. In most cases, he used weapons to circumvent [Magic Resistance] to make his playstyle viable.

There was a possibility that worried him. 'As a feature enhancement for greater realism, the [Equipment Tab] is being removed'. If that happened, Hexi would really be in trouble, to the point that he might have to step back from the Front Line.

He couldn't countenance that.

"So, I was talking with Shishou about what I should do." Hexi finished. "She said I should talk to you."

"Hmm." The Sixth Ranger hummed. "Well, what do you want to do?"

"Something like a Bag of Holding." Hexi immediately replied. "A dimensional space that I could stick any number of items in."

The Sixth Ranger considered that. "That sounds really hard."

Personally, Hexi agreed. The limits of the Thaumaturgy system could feel really arbitrary, but he was starting to get an idea of what the underlying logic was.

"Maybe I could just create weapons as needed, like you do." Hexi offered.

"I suppose." The Ranger said, frowning. "It's just that Projection isn't really that useful, honestly."

Hexi stared at him blankly. "You use it to pull out whatever you need to one-shot Floor Bosses. Floor Bosses." He repeated it for emphasis.

"Well, I suppose." The Ranger said, shaking his head. "But... that's more like the weaknesses of using Projection are canceled by the benefits of specializing in just my Element."

Hexi had to allow the truth of that.

Although people said things like 'People with [Rare Elements] are like the protagonists of Video Games', originally the comparison had been more like 'The Sixth Ranger is like the Dragon Quest Hero of [Sword Art Online], so he has a [Rare Element] therefore'.

"I've also thought about going heavier for pure Spellcasting." Hexi admitted. "But for now that means relying mostly on my Mystic Eye, and that's not something that can deal damage."

Yes. Crowd control was an excellent ability for someone in a party, but even if it was selfish, Hexi didn't want to give up the ability to play solo.

And, of course, relying on one approach made him inflexible. Against a mob that had a high resistance to that one trick, he would have a tough time.

There was another option, in the middle of each.

If he used weapons as a medium for curses, and weapons were too bulky, then he could expand the scope of his implements.

Rather than only using equipment, he could use [Charms]. Strips of paper that served as the vessel for a spell had already counted as [Items], so it wouldn't be affected any more than it already had.

But using paper charms was what she had done. No, it was something they had done together. Doing that on his own felt like he was forgetting her, and he wouldn't allow that.

"So is it just quality over quantity, then?" The Ranger asked. "Going down to, say, six weapons on average?"

Hexi grunted, making a complicated expression under his mask. "Yeah, but if I do that, I'll get pushed towards using stuff that I know will work. Right now I'm okay if some of my experimental gear doesn't perform well, but if I just aim for high quality, then I'll end up in a troublesome situation."

The Sixth Ranger frowned. "Can you explain that a little more?"

Hexi nodded. "Um, okay." He paused to collect his thoughts. "It's like this."

He held out his right hand. "On one hand, because the Front Line is advancing as fast as possible, we have to stick with what's reliable, and what we know will work. Since it's hard to know what we'll be up against on the next Floor but we don't want to waste time developing the best solution for every problem, it's better to just have something that's basic and strong."

He held out his left hand. "On the other hand, if we don't keep experimenting and growing, we'll stagnate. Our gear can get incrementally better, but at some point, improving what you already have can lose to somebody that invents a jetpack."

And Lind was milking that for everything it was worth. Her [Divine Dragon Alliance] had pulled ahead of the [Fuumaningen] as the most effective scouting guild with that.

The Ranger had a thoughtful expression as he pondered the same thing.

"Anyway," Hexi said, "I rely on carrying lots of gear so that I can try out new stuff that might work great, or might be terrible. But I still keep carrying all the gear that's proven as really useful."

His trap-mace was an example of something new, and it was situational, only useful against human-sized mobs that used weapons, but it was a game changer in certain situations.

But his Shadow Rapiers could consistently create an opening for a kill against anything with a body. They practically guaranteed the next hit would be a crit.

And his axe was supposed to inflict wounds that wouldn't heal. That wasn't really working yet though, because it was based on a fundamentally different kind of curse. But he could keep trying it out, testing it against a mob, and then immediately toying with the enchantment between battles out in the field.

If his equipment limit went down, he would have to pare down to just what he knew would work.

"Basically, I really want to maintain my huge inventory of equips, but I'm worried about the game nerfing that out from under me." Hexi summed up.

Shirou rubbed his chin, frowning. "I hear there are Mid Liners who use Familiars as pack animals."

Hexi grimaced. "It's a good idea, but it still means changing my loadout for each battle. It helps, but it doesn't quite get me where I need to be. Plus I have to worry about my pack mule getting ganked by a mob, which turns everything into an escort quest." He couldn't entirely keep the disgust out of his voice when he said that.

It was a good idea... for a Mid Liner. Against someone taking it easy, having a Familiar as a porter was useful. But on the Front Line, pushing as hard and fast as possible, they were a liability.

"If it's familiars, there was... another option." Hexi said, deeply hesitant.

"I knew someone that was working on making a Familiar out of his Sword." Hexadecimal paused, clenching his jaw and pushing down what was welling up inside him. Using that guy's idea for himself bothered him, just like abandoning her half of charmcraft bothered him.

After a moment of collecting himself he continued. "The idea was to create a sword with the capacity to grow and level up just like a Player. Something like that could work really well." He shook his head. "But I'm not really sure it would be a good fit for me, I tend to be pretty rough on my gear."

Yes. He wanted the Sixth Ranger to know about it so it could help other people. That would make that guy happy. But to use it himself was still....

Hexi shook himself. "Anyway, I've been thinking about it, and I don't really have a good solution."

"I see." The Ranger said. "To be honest, I can't think of a solution either." He made it sound like a personal failing. But he smiled and soldiered on. "However, even if I can't help you with that, I can at least make you an excellent sword now." He nodded, slapping his thighs as he stood upright. "Well, do you have any special requests?"

"Not really." Hexadecimal said. "Being good conductors for my spells is the most important trait."

"Hmm." The Ranger frowned. "In that case, the quality of the materials matters, but also that it's strongly aligned to you. That is to say, reusing the same materials over and over, building up a history between you and them, is also very important."

"That actually explains some things I didn't understand." Hexi admitted. Among his weapons, some worked better at carrying his curses than others. At first he had thought the variability just meant he was still unskilled, but later he noticed that the weapons that he recycled tended to be more efficient than ones made from fresh material.

"In that case, please just materialize all your weapons, and we'll sort through for the ones you've had the longest time." The Ranger said. "Those will make the best tools for you."

"Okay." Hexi said, nodding as he navigated his menu, pausing right before he clicked [Materialize All]. "Wait, how are you going to tell which ones I've had longest?" He tended to recycle materials, after all, so it wasn't like the [Creation Date] listed with the [Appraisal] would be helpful.

"Huh?" The Ranger blinked. "Determining the history of the materials is basic Structural Grasp... right?"

Like Hexadecimal would know spells better than The Sixth Ranger. "I suppose." He said, a little hesitant. "Well, if you can do that, it's fine."

And he clicked the button.

Hexi ran a perfectly balanced build. Half his character points in STR and half in AGI. However, he was [Married] to a high-level NPC that was a 100% STR build. In SAO, married characters' inventories were added together, and inventory capacity was STR-based.

Although his personal inventory capacity was literally medium, he had exploited [Marriage] to have an inventory that was functionally gigantic.

Multiple one-handed hammers. Spears, pikes, and halberds. Greatmauls. Longswords, broadswords, shortswords, armingswords, rapiers, estocs, cutlasses, throwing picks, throwing daggers, arming daggers, and knives. Maces of many sizes. A few flails.

Bolas of various qualities; he was still working on those.

Looking at the eclectic pile of equipment, Hexi felt vaguely embarrassed by the excess. Even if they were relatively low quality, they were still all Front Liner gear. He could arm an entire Mid Liner Guild to the teeth with this much.

"I haven't really culled out the excess recently." Hexi half-explained. He kept them sorted rigorously so he could pull from his inventory quickly and accurately in battle, but he hadn't taken anything out in a while.

"You've got a pretty good selection." The Sixth Ranger praised. "Most of this is made by Front Liner smiths; you've got a lot of stuff from Grimlock."

"Oh, you know Grimlock?" Hexi said. In a way it made sense that a Front Liner smith would know about his competition. But, compared to them, [The Sixth Ranger] wasn't in competition with other Front Liner smiths. His stuff was just overwhelmingly better.

"We've never actually met." The Ranger admitted. "But he does good work."

"Huh." Hexi said, slightly amused. He thought about introducing them, but volunteering to arrange a social event was completely not him, so he didn't say anything.

"Oh, I made these." Shirou said, picking up a pair of rapiers that were in their sheathes.

"Those...!"

He hadn't forgotten they were in his inventory. But he tried not to think about them.

They had been his best rapiers, until he had sacrificed them.

Even now, if he had them recreated, their stats would still be obviously better than anything else he owned.

But he had hesitated.

They were like a monument.

The rapiers he had used to defeat the Fifth Floor Boss, [Zolgen].

It was ridiculous to think that defeating a video game boss counted as revenge, but human emotions weren't rational.

"Those... are special." He said. He didn't want to talk about it.

"Yeah." The Sixth Ranger quietly agreed.

The Ranger was holding them carefully. If he pulled the blades out of their sheathes, only part of the blade would come out, with the remaining fragments still stored away.

"These swords..." The Ranger began. "Rather than being closely associated with you, they're strongly aligned as [Cursing to Death]."

"That... what about it?" Hexadecimal defensively replied.

"There was a sword, once." The Ranger began, after a pause. "Called Tyrfing, it was forged by the dwarves Dvalinn and Durin, with a golden hilt and a blade that gleamed like fire. Most importantly, it would unfailingly kill every time it was drawn, because of a curse of destiny."

Hexi parsed that. "So you're saying that I should go for a sword with a strong death effect?" It was tempting. A powerful finish.

But it a sense, it was the worst match for him. For a normal player, a curse on their best sword that required them to kill with it every time it was drawn would be a hassle only against a Boss where the Last Attack wasn't guaranteed. While farming mobs, it was something you wouldn't even notice. Likewise, all you'd have to do is go whack a weak mob after a Boss Fight and you'd be fine.

But for Hexi, who switched out weapons constantly, it would be a serious handicap to bind his equipment until a condition was met. Of every Front Liner he could think of, Hexi himself was the one worst suited for such an effect.

"I dunno." Hexadecimal replied. "The curse sounds cool in principle, but it's a bad match for my fighting style."

"There is a spell called Geas." The Ranger continued. "A hero was bound to a course of action, and breaking it would lead to their doom. But it was also a boon, empowering them so long as they upheld the oath."

That... changed things a little.

"So the Curse will actually power up and get stronger directly in proportion to how inconvenient it is, huh." Hexadecimal considered that.

Fundamentally, using such a sword was a gamble. He'd have to weigh the benefit of a strong finisher against the danger of sealing away all his other weapons.

But, if the Curse grew stronger the more he gave up to use it, then it meant the gamble would always be attractive. The more options he had to give up, the more powerful the death attack would become in their stead.

"I suppose." He said, chewing his lip.

The Ranger nodded. "Since we're basing it on that legend, I still need more materials, though."

Hexadecimal went over what he'd been told. "You're going to send me on a fetchquest for gold for the hilt, aren't you." He said, resigned.

The Sixth Ranger was famous for never compromising on the quality of his swords.

Originally he'd been merely neutral towards Ilya's decree that he had to send everyone on fetch quests for materials, but apparently as a result of that the enchantments became more effective, so now The Sixth Ranger cheerfully demanded that everyone else should also hold themselves to 100% quality.

Among Front Liners, they told each other that even if the quests were annoying, at least the sword increased in power proportionate to how annoying it was. If your efforts were rewarded like that, the quests weren't such a big deal.

"You're correct." The Sixth Ranger said with a wry smile.

Then he cleared his throat. "You know," he began.

Hexi looked up.

"In the legend, King Svafalrami kidnapped the dwarves and forced them to make Tyrfing. Because of their pride as smiths, it was a beautiful sword that cut through armor as easily as clothes. And because of their hatred as hostages, it was cursed to always kill, and to cause three great evils." The Ranger recounted the story quietly, with his back facing away from him.

"But it's a little sad, isn't it?" The Ranger continued. "Despite having such a powerful death curse, the sword was just a sword. It was just a dependable weapon, no more and no less."

Hexi swallowed. "What exactly are you trying to say."

"Even if she doesn't really understand it herself, Ilya is worried about you." The Ranger replied. "I'm not close enough to you to say anything, and in the first place you've kept yourself together, so no-one can criticize your behavior." The Ranger turned, and looked at him.

"In legend, Tyrfing was a sword that doomed its wielder to inevitable destruction. I think there's meaning in telling you that." Even if Hexadecimal was the one with the Mystic Eyes, he found that The Ranger's gaze had his attention locked.

He felt something welling up inside him. Resentment, anger, and sadness.

'Nobody understands what I'm going through.' It wasn't exactly that. There were plenty of people that had lost someone. Even in his own Guild, the Paladins, Cuvie was a boy of the same age who had lost a party member.

No. Everyone could understand what Hexi was going through.

What frustrated him was how everyone took that to mean they had the right to dictate to him how he should handle it. How he should feel about it. How he should respond to it.

Those guys had been something special. Friendship and camaraderie like he'd never felt before. He didn't know how to put it in words, and he felt their loss keenly, even now.

But even so, having other people dictate how he should feel about it enraged him.

He'd already failed to keep them alive. If he couldn't even grieve for them properly because other people kept telling him how he should feel, that would destroy him.

"I'll go get the gold." Hexadecimal muttered, turning towards the door.

Was he running away from a conversation he didn't want to have?

Maybe. He'd appreciated Ilya-shishou's awkward attempt to broach the subject, even as he'd carefully deflected it. Somehow it had been more sincere and meaningful than Kibaou's concern, even if he knew that Kibaou was equally genuine.

But... The Sixth Ranger was better than that, better than everyone. A super-warrior who helped everyone, supported everyone, saved everyone, without judgment. Even if he was a founding member of [The Brotherhood of Saint Mark], he would freely make swords for anyone on the Front Line. Everyone relied on him.

The implication that he, too, was worried about Hexadecimal made him feel uncertain, ashamed, but also annoyed. Well, at least that guy had explicitly said that he had no place to criticize Hexi. That was something Hexi could appreciate, at least.

He shook his head, closing his eyes and slowly breathing out as he stepped outside, before he turned his gaze upward.

"Gold, huh." He mused.

Tyrfing, a sword that a king threatened dwarves into making. Compared to that legend, he could get gold that matched the myth, at least a little bit.

It wouldn't do to just buy it from a merchant in the market in one of the towns.

"Who's a king-like NPC I can steal gold from, huh." He wondered to himself.

Only the Eighth Floor had an appropriately Feudal motif, to begin with. The rich grassland kingdom being raided by Orcs, that was the setting he remembered from the fluff.

Well, it was also the case that the weapons for sale on the Slime Floor were expensive and heavily ornamented. Maybe he could steal a weapon from there? Yeah, that could work.

Hexadecimal nodded to himself, mind firmly fixed on the quest in front of him to the exclusion of all other thoughts.

I I I

End

1) And here we go, the first chapter of Swordtopia, where we see individual examples of Shirou handing out SuperSwords like your grandmother handing out candy.

2) Hexadecimal, who lost his friends. My objective here was to show him handling it, but not really dealing with it. He's not getting worse, but he's not getting better, either; he's determined to remain static. That's what I wanted to convey, lemme know if it came off that way.

3) I'm not really sure how I felt about how Shirou handled Hexi. On one hand, he's almost brutally direct about confronting things he thinks should be talked about. On the other hand, he's someone that refuses to even think about things he's not ready to address. And no matter which hand you're looking at, it stands on the fact that in the VN he mostly interacts with people that are really close to him, one way or another, rather than "friends of friends". And all that's balanced against the fact that in this story, "character development" implies that if he can't really help people, at least he can give them a sword.

 

[daniel_gudman]

15.2 Kuradeel

I I I

Kuradeel stepped forward, attacking aggressively with a wide swing of his two-handed greatsword.

The enemy mob jerked back with a hopping step, tucking back its neck as the feathers on its head stood up. It spread its vestigial wings, making itself look bigger.

That was also the tell that it was going to attack with it's beak, as heavy as an axe.

Kuradeel pushed forward. Rather than retreating and letting the enemy chase him, it was better to step into it. Even if he got attacked, he could catch it short on his armor.

"Look out!"

He twisted when he heard the youthful voice shout out, and clicked his teeth even as he dived into a roll.

From behind, a blast of fire lanced over him and slammed into the bird, causing it to cry out in pain and anger.

"I have this one, Riddler." Kuradeel growled, as he came back to his feet and raised his sword for another attack.

Behind him, the Player named [Riddler] scoffed. Kuradeel knew without looking that the younger boy was striking that insufferable pose, right hand on his hip as he put all his weight on his left leg with his chest puffed out. Like he was all that.

Riddler was just a mediocre fire-user. He wore robes over chainmail and didn't even carry a weapon, a pure wizard build that could only do orthodox fire attacks without even that much stamina.

"You're taking too long." Riddler replied.

Kuradeel ignored him, instead focusing on his opponent. He glared, and the mob fluffed it's feathers again, stepping back.

It was strange. Rather than generating [Hate] and grabbing aggro, what Kuradeel generated in mobs was something like [Fear].

They always flinched back and acted uncertain. Well, that was only when he was [Reinforcing] his body though.

But Kuradeel would take it. The instant the mob stepped back, he surged forward, thrusting with his sword.

The bird mob made a distressed cry when the sword was buried into it's side.

"Careful on your flank!" Kobatz shouted from somewhere behind him.

Kuradeel hated Kobatz. Equipped with a heavy shield and a sword while using [Rune Magecraft], that old guy was clearly just imitating Diabel. But even though he was just a cheap imitation, every word that came out of his mouth was a heavy-handed order. Kuradeel couldn't get along with a guy like that.

Still, there might be something to it. Kuradeel took an instant to glance around, while the mob was distracted. Plus, since his sword was buried inside it, he would be able to feel it through his hands if it moved at all.

There, behind him.

Clayface was doing that weird [Water Dress] thing and fighting another mob, stabbing it with his trident. Well, even if it was weird, that thick layer of water he gathered around himself as armor was pretty effective, so Kuradeel would at least admit he was a good tank, even if he was damn slow like that. And looked like he was wearing a blob suit.

Kobatz was pointing with his sword, his cape swirling behind him. If you have time to look dramatic how about helping out.

Kuradeel's gaze followed along the sword, and he saw that they had pulled in a third of these evil-looking bird mobs.

"I've got you covered!" Riddler shouted, as he stamped forward and punched the air, a blast of fire shooting out of his fist.

Front!

The sword in his hands was twisted as the muscles of the mob it was stabbed into flexed. Kuradeel turned, barely in time to see that it had reared back to strike.

His left hand let go, and he threw up his arm.

The instant his arm was put in front of him, it received a full-on chop from that sharp, heavy beak. He screamed as his left arm was smashed by the impact, the bones between his wrist and elbow cracking open inside his muscles.

The sword gripped in his right hand was wrenched from his grip as he was flung to the ground, landing hard on his back.

The bird mob made a triumphant cry, tilting its head to the side even while it extended it's neck, glaring down at him.

He moaned, low and angry, and lashed out with his right hand, claws spontaneously forming on his fingertips as his [Reinforcement] responded to his emotions.

The bird jerked back, but bobbed it's head forward, and was clearly thinking about attacking again.

He sneered, even though he wanted to whimper from the pain as he tucked his left arm against his chest, his right arm held in front of him with fingers curled like claws, trying to ward off the mob leering above him.

"Kuradeel!" Distantly he heard Kobatz shouting.

The mob twitched its head to the side, its beak opening so it's tongue could flick out before it closed again with a clack. Then it seemed to decide, freezing in place with it's body tense as it readied another attack.

Kuradeel stared up. His own body was rigid. He had exactly one chance to interrupt this next attack with his impromptu claws.

And then there was a huge roar, and an orange blur slammed into the huge bird mob and ripped it off of him.

Kuradeel blinked, and then slowly sat up.

It was a massive saber-toothed tiger with six legs. It was huge, standing with its shoulder at the same height as his face. And it had the bird mob he had been fighting pinned to the ground as it snarled, before it lunged, the terrible fangs piercing the throat of the bird mob with a wet crunching sound.

There were two little girls sitting on it's back in a saddle.

The girl in front was wearing a tunic and short skirt, with fingerless gloves and leather boots, and a fur mantle draped over her shoulders.

"Good job, Tama-chan." She said, apparently praising the tiger monster she was riding on.

But the other girl, who was sitting behind the first one, had already grabbed Kuradeel's attention.

If you couldn't recognize her, then you failed as a Front Line candidate. Even if you didn't recognize her, then the blue icon floating over her head was enough to indicate how important she was.

Kuradeel struggled to his feet, grimacing as pain arced up his arm, starting at his fingertips, bundling at his wrist in a throbbing knot, and shooting all the way up past his elbow.

She glanced around, coolly assessing the surroundings. She leaned forward, whispering into the ear of the girl in front of her, before swinging her leg up and around and smoothly dismounting from the big of the primordial tiger.

"Right!" The other girl, said, nodding, before she tensed in time with the tiger, and they lunged, darting forward to slam into the second bird mob. At the same time the tiger mauled it, the rider leapt, spinning like a wheel before slamming knife-first into the throat of the new bird mob they'd just aggroed.

Just like that.

Kuradeel grit his teeth, clenching his jaw, clenching his sword in his functioning right hand, and failing to clench the numb and dripping fingers of his broken left arm.

If only he had gotten onto the Front Line, he could have been that strong too.

"Hey, you know who I am, right?" The other girl said.

His attention snapped back to her. Kuradeel was ashamed that he'd been distracted. "Yes." He said. "You're [Von Ilya], the leader of the strongest guild."

She paused, slightly surprised, before smiling and clapping her hands like a delighted child.

He'd known she was pale, but not to this extent. And those red eyes… was she an albino? She must have had her own challenges. But more than anything else, her pure smile took his breath away.

"Kuradeel-kun." She said, smiling, as she quickly and casually operated her menu. "I want you."

"Ah." He couldn't help murmuring in surprise. The words, and the menu prompt that had popped up in front of him. What it meant.

A guild invite. To him, from the famous [Brotherhood of Saint Mark].

Finally. Someone was recognizing his worth.

A smile tugged at his lips as he reached up to tap the holographic button and officially join.

"I'll be in your care." He said. How many times had he said that phrase by rote during introductions? But this time, he meant it genuinely.

She was recognizing his potential. [Von Ilya] was going out of her way to give him the chance he deserved.

Ilya grabbed her skirt with the tips of her fingers and curtsied formally, bowing her head with a warm smile. "Yes, I'll take the very best care of you, Kuradeel-kun."

He hastened to bow. This was it. This was his moment.

Kobatz cleared his throat. Behind him, Riddler and Clayface were standing down, not relaxed but not ready to fight, looking unsure.

Kuradeel came out of his bow, and he knew he was frowning intensely at an interruption at such an important occasion.

"Yes?" The White Witch responded. The contrast with her warm tone before made it sound even chillier.

The other girl – Silica, he recognized, the Pet Tamer or Beastmaster for the [BSM] – had an awkward smile, like she wasn't sure how to respond.

"I am happy that Kuradeel-san has been accepted into a Front Liner Guild, which is the dream of every advancing Mid Liner." Kobatz said, with formal pompousness. "However, we are in the middle of active farming, so I would greatly appreciate it if you would kindly reserve recruitment for the proper time and place, back in town."

Kuradeel opened his mouth, but a glance from his new guildmaster silenced him.

"And who might you be?" Ilya inquired.

Kobatz bowed. "I am Kobatz, a Raid Leader in the [Cavaliers], the recruitment Guild that nurtures new talent for the [Paladins]."

Kuradeel sneered. It wasn't like he was even in the [Cavaliers] in the first place, he had no interest in compromising and contentedly being a second stringer waiting to get picked as a starter.

Ilya stared at Kobatz for a moment. "And who might you be?" She said, exactly repeating herself down to the tone that sounded honestly curious.

Kobatz frowned, opening his mouth to speak again, before he faltered when he saw the expression on Ilya's face. Behind him, Riddler shifted uncertainly, like he wanted to talk but thought better than that at the last minute. Even Kuradeel had gotten that hint.

"I see." Ilya said, after he paused in uncertainty. "Yes, I think we understand each other." She turned away, dismissing him entirely from her mind. "Kuradeel-kun." She said.

"Yes, Guildmaster!" He said, snapping to attention.

She smiled at him. "So obedient. Usually we wait a bit, but a good child like you should be rewarded." She turned, nodding at the other girl. "Come along and we will get your signing bonus sorted out right away."

With an easy gesture, the huge six-legged cat bound over to the two girls. Silica easily hopped onto its back, and then turned and reached down to boost Ilya up. Ilya glanced over her shoulder, and smiled at him.

Kuradeel didn't look back at his party of convenience. He followed after her without hesitation.

I I I

Kuradeel paused, standing in the doorway as the White Witch – Ilya, he should call her Ilya now – walked into the forge.

The lighting was down, and a single man was standing in front of a stoked fire, tapping on a long blade with a hammer against the anvil before it. Satisfied, he lifted it, and turned, lifting the sword and letting the point drop down, before he swiftly plunged it into an upright box.

Steam hissed, and a strange, foul scent like burnt flesh wafted across the room.

"Did you just quench a sword in blood?" Ilya asked, nose wrinkled with a distasteful expression on her face.

The tall man turned to look at her, and nodded. "Yes."

The Player icon floating over his head was also royal blue with gold trim. He was also a Titled Player, just like Ilya. This was the so-called Strongest Protagonist in Aincrad, [The Sixth Ranger].

"Where did you even get that much blood?" Ilya asked, stepping forward to scowl at the upright box. "Shirou, is that human blood?"

"This sword is for Levi." Shirou replied, as he pulled the sword free. It had the wide cross-piece and extended handle of a longsword, but as Kuradeel walked into the room, he could see that although the blade was the right length and width for a longsword, it undulated down the whole blade like a kris, but the sine wave was tighter.

"So this blood came from him. He used healing magic to make it." Shirou continued talking. "He's gotten to a high enough level we could move forward on this."

"I suppose." Ilya said, as she shook her head and hopped up to sit on a table behind him. "But there's no way that sword will be anything but evil, and cursed, Shirou."

"I'm not sure about that." Shirou said. "I mean, quenching in blood has the image of forced sacrifice, because the blood has to be taken, and taking that much blood out is lethal, whether you're taking it from a man or even a horse. But this blood was willingly given by the sword's owner, at no health cost because of his magecraft. I even bathed the raw ore in blood while smelting it as the carbon source. It will end up more strongly aligned to [Blood] than any sword I've heard of, but it won't necessarily be evil, just... dark."

"If you say so." Ilya sighed, as she kicked her heels.

"Anyway, why don't you introduce me to your new friend." Shirou said, turning to face Kuradeel.

Even though it was just a casual way to start an introduction, his presence was intense to Kuradeel. "Yes!" He said, as he stepped forward at something like attention.

"Alright!" Ilya said, as she pushed off the table landing on her feet. She smiled as she stood upright, and transformed. It was in the way she stood properly with her back straight and her hands demurely at her sides with a small warm smile, she stopped being a rambunctious child and became a proper little girl.

"Shirou, this is our new guild-mate, a man named [Kuradeel]. As a fellow rare-element user, please take care of him. Kuradeel-kun, this is the [Sixth Ranger] to the public, and my older brother [Shirou] to our guild. He will be preparing a sword as a welcoming gift to the Guild and taking care of you in various other ways, so please don't hesitate to rely on him." Ilya finished her speech with a formal curtsy. "I hope you both get along."

"A pleasure to meet you." Shirou said to Kuradeel, his head going down as he bowed.

"Yes!" Kuradeel said, as he jerked his head down, careful to bow more deeply. "I will be in your care!"

Shirou grunted. "A sword to welcome him to the guild, huh?" He glanced aside at Ilya. "I don't mind, but you're perhaps thinking we'll do it right now, is that it?"

"If it's not too much trouble." Ilya said, with a well-designed sweet smile.

Shirou sighed, and gave Kuradeel a look that said putting up with this girl was usually the easiest path.

"Um, thank you." Kuradeel said, because he felt a little out of his depth.

"No problem." Shirou said, as he turned and hung his hammer by the handle-loop on a peg on the wall, before tapping an invisible menu in the wall, turning down the forge.

In the sudden darkness from the fire going down, bright lights like fluorescent bulbs suddenly came up, shattering the unearthly aura of the forge. Kuradeel blinked, and hastened to follow as Shirou slowly walked to lean against a table.

"So, tell me about yourself. The way you fight, your sword-style, your spell-style. That sort of thing." Shirou said.

"Ah, thank you." Kuradeel began. "I fight using a two-handed greatsword. When grinding in a Mid-liner group I usually tank, but I also solo against lower floors as training, so I have to cover my own DPS. In terms of spells, I mostly focus on physical enhancement, but I'm also good at managing aggro."

Shirou grunted. "Tanking, huh? A defensive style then? Parrying, dodging, blocking, or what?"

Kuradeel shook his head. "No, I try to attack. When tanking, I try to disrupt the mob's rhythm, rather than just enduring." He felt a bit defensive over that. He had gotten in fights over that, with Mid-Liner parties that expected him to stay slotted in the role of a [Tank], and didn't approve of his tactics. To Kuradeel, they were just being small-minded.

"Good." Shirou said, nodding. "It's a cliche, but the best defense really is a good offense."

"Ah." Kuradeel blinked. "Yes, I agree. As for spells..."

"His element is [Bogeyman], Shirou." Ilya interjected, saying something with a sing-song voice.

"That's correct." Kuradeel said, even as he schooled his face against a scowl. It was kind of uncool so he was already a little sensitive about it, but whenever he told people, they invariably made a crack about his appearance, so it turned into arguments a lot. He was a little bit surprised that Ilya knew, but on the other hand, she already knew he had a [Rare Element], so it wasn't really that much more that she knew the specifics.

Shirou, however, just frowned thoughtfully. "[Bogeyman]... like the monsters created in the darkness from human fears?"

"Pin-pon!" Ilya said, clapping her hands. "Yes, a variation of the [Sixth Imaginary Element], a type of [hypothetical devil] that materializes from human thoughts. In particular it's constrained to the idea of monsters with an unknown form that lurk in the shadows, unseen, that kind of thing."

Kuradeel blinked. That was... it was a more thoughtful and precise description of his abilities than he really knew what to do with. It was one thing to hear stories about these two that included their mastery of game lore as a detail, but it was another thing to see it casually displayed in front of him.

"I see." Shirou said, turning to look at him. "You said that your spells tended to pull aggro, right?" Kuradeel nodded in confirmation, so he turned to Ilya. "Do you think it's the emotional component of his element shading his spells?"

"Of course it is, Shirou, don't be silly." Ilya dismissed the question entirely. "Still, I'm thinking I'll make Silica teach him about familiars."

"You're planning to make him a devil-tamer?" Shirou replied.

"Yes!" Ilya said. "Fundamentally they will be astralized concepts instead of concrete physical forms, but the autonomy is there, so it's a good fit for him."

Kuradeel was officially lost.

"Well, that's beside the point." Shirou said, clapping his hands and standing back upright from leaning against the table. He turned, smiling lightly at Kuradeel before he spoke again.

"Well, first things first, please show me your fighting style." Shirou said pleasantly.

Kuradeel froze for a moment, fighting to not swallow nervously, to keep his cool. He had known this trial was coming, after all.

"I'll be in your care." Kuradeel replied, once he'd mastered himself.

"Good!" Shirou replied, as he walked towards the courtyard. "Then equip your gear, I'll meet you outside."

Kuradeel grunted, activating his menu to swap out his equipment from the stuff he wore around town to his armor, his sword a comforting weight on his back.

He clenched his hands into fists, trying to tell himself that it was from excitement, not nerves. It burned that Shirou was making him prove himself, but under that, there was a darker fear, that he wouldn't be good enough.

This was his big chance! Someone had finally recognized his value. Ilya had recruited him into her guild.

No matter what, he had to impress Shirou.

Like that, Kuradeel walked out into the courtyard, where Shirou was standing casually, with his hands hanging at his sides.

Kuradeel reached over his shoulder, and swung his sword up and forward into a guard position.

"Ready?" Shirou asked. "Then here I come!"

Kuradeel flinched back.

The Ranger Dash –!

I I I

Kuradeel gasped, leaning forward with his right hand up and gripping his sword, his left hand resting on his thigh, as he sucked in air, glaring at Shirou from under his brow.

"You did okay." Shirou said. It wasn't praise, he was being consoled. Kuradeel clenched his teeth.

Fortunately Shirou couldn't see it, as he had turned to start pulling out the longswords where they had been speared into the ground when Shirou had been testing his footwork.

"Your skills are acceptable for the Front Line." Shirou continued, as he returned the dozen-odd blades to his inventory. "Your speed and timing are okay, and your distance control is alright. You need to work on how you get overly single-minded though." Just acceptable? Okay? Alright? Was this guy looking down on how hard he had worked?

"Your magecraft is a little weak, but unfortunately, that's usually the case for those that bear [Rare Elements]." Shirou added, as he snapped his fingers and the swords plunged into the back wall in a jagged line dissolved back into ether. "Don't be discouraged. Ilya will help you with that."

He had to work twice as hard as other Mid-Liners just to get the same basic spells to work, and all the intermediate spells were unavailable to him. Everything he had, he built himself. Just to get called a little weak?

"But none of that matters because you have something important." Shirou finished. "The willingness to kill."

That… what?

"A sword is a weapon." Shirou said, glancing around absently for the katana he had started the fight with. "It is a tool for killing. In the end, swinging a sword means you've decided to hurt someone." He grimaced, like admitting that was painful to him, even as he put the katana back into his inventory.

"But that's the difference between Sparring and Battle." Shirou said, turning to grab Kuradeel's eye with his own gaze. "In the end, everything else can be practiced, but you have honed a spirit that doesn't lose at malice. You can kill people with your sword."

That was it. Even though he was tired, weak, still short of breath, he felt lifted up. The darker part of himself that other people disliked, was being praised as useful by Shirou.

He was being acknowledged as talented by [The Sixth Ranger]. This was it. Kuradeel felt himself smiling, feeling giddy. He was being recognized.

"Kuradeel." Shirou commanded.

Kuradeel hastened to put a solemn expression on his face. "Yes?"

"Don't be consumed by darkness." Shirou ordered.

"Yes." Kuradeel agreed.

Shirou closed his eyes, and sighed. "Anyway, I've decided what I'm missing to make your sword."

That wiped the giddy right out of Kuradeel. Here it was, the second half of the [Quest for the Master Sword]. After getting the tar beaten out of you, you got sent on an open-ended fetch quest with vague parameters. The failure penalty was disappointing [The Sixth Ranger].

"On the Fourth Floor, in the [Boss Dungeon], there is a particular mob called the [Metal Slime] that started spawning after the Boss was defeated." Shirou recounted. "Bring me some [Metal Slime Essence] that they drop when defeated."

Kuradeel nodded. "How many?"

"I'm not sure." Shirou admitted. "Just bring me as many as you think you should."

Kuradeel really wanted to complain. "That's…" But he swallowed it, grimacing. "Understood."

"Hey, it will be fine." Shirou said with an encouraging smile, like it wasn't his fault in the first place. "The spell works better when it has these kinds of story-book elements, after all."

Kuradeel didn't know whether that was true, but it was exactly the kind of obnoxious trolling that at least sounded legitimate. The fluff for the [Thaumaturgy System] was kind of bullshit.

"Alright." Kuradeel said, heaving himself up with a sigh. "I'll be back in a little bit."

He turned, and walked for the door, raising his hand in a cool wave when Shirou called out 'good luck' behind him.

He wouldn't waste this. He definitely knew exactly what would max out his points with Shirou.

I I I

"It's been three days." Shirou said instead of a greeting, as he opened the door.

"It has." Kuradeel agreed, slightly defensive, as he tapped through his menu. "Here."

Kuradeel was surprised at how relieved he felt when Shirou blinked, the eyebrows on his forehead raising in surprise, rather than looking disappointed or anything like that.

"You farmed [99 Metal Slime Essence] for this?" Shirou asked, a little incredulous.

"That's right." Kuradeel said, proudly. "A max stack."

Shirou was silent for a moment. "I know I said get as many as you thought you should, but I only needed about eight."

The bottom dropped out of his stomach. "Oh." Kuradeel said.

"Still," Shirou said, clapping his hands. "Putting in your best effort like this is still impressive, so I can't complain."

He turned and walked towards his forge, leaving Kuradeel behind. After an uncertain moment, Kuradeel followed.

Kuradeel thought about asking if he would be quenching the blade in the [Metal Slime Essence] like that blood-quenched sword from his first visit, but he couldn't bring himself to interrupt and ask.

Instead, he sat and waited as Shirou stoked the fire, prepared his tools, and rapidly made a short sword. Each time he pounded the steel flat for folding over, before he folded it, he sprinkled [Metal Slime Essence] on the blade.

Kuradeel opened his mouth to complain about it being a [Short Sword], but he held his tongue.

As soon as it was finished, though, Shirou grunted in dissatisfaction and broke it back down into the raw materials.

This time, Shirou materialized the steel and closed his eyes, silently casting some kind of spell on it first, and then materialized a vial of the [Metal Slime Essence], enchanting that as well.

Only then did he repeat the process, repeatedly hammering and folding the blank before shaping it into a short sword, sprinkling the [Metal Slime Essence] on it between each folding.

And again, he shook his head and broke it back down into raw materials, before he sat back, frowning into the fire as he rested his palms on his knees.

"Um." Kuradeel said, wondering what Shirou was trying to accomplish, and wondering how to ask about it.

"Hm?" Shirou grunted, before he turned. "Oh. I'm just thinking about how to create the raw material, is all."

"Isn't it just steel?" Kuradeel guessed.

Shirou shook his head. "That's… no." After a long pause, all he did was deny it.

Well, what is it supposed to be, then? Kuradeel wanted to demand an answer, but the serious look on his face held him back.

"Your element is [Bogeyman]." Shirou finally said. "A variation of the [Sixth Imaginary Element], particularly well-suited to giving form to emotions and thoughts, rather than circumventing natural phenomena like the [Five True Elements]." His gaze snapped into focus on Kuradeel. "That's why I switched to directly creating swords with my own magecraft when we were fighting, rather than pulling them out of my inventory. It's closer to what you can do."

Kuradeel had thought Shirou had just been showing off his [Psychogenesis] and [Telekinesis] by creating swords out of thin air and launching them with a thought.

"So that's why I'm trying to create a sword that is fused with [Metal Slime Essence], rather than just regular steel." Shirou said, like it was an obvious conclusion, but Kuradeel thought he was skipping a step.

"Unfortunately it breaks down in heat, so I can't get them to amalgamate." Shirou said with a sigh.

Kuradeel nodded, and bluffed. "The parts you can't do with [Blacksmithing], could you do them with a [Spell]?"

Apparently it worked. Shirou narrowed his eyes. "Alchemy, huh?"

Sure, Kuradeel thought. Alchemy, of course. Whatever that was.

But Shirou stood, and moved over to the tall, narrow tub that he had used to quench that sword. He materialized a large amount of [Metal Slime Essence], filling the bath up with it. Kuradeel hesitantly stood, walking over to stand by the side, and glanced into the tub filled with the opaque silvery liquid.

Then Shirou materialized several kilograms of metal shavings, little curls of metal and dirty pieces of clinker. Scrap steel, basically.

It dropped directly into the tub, plunking like marbles dropped in a glass of water, and then rising back up to the surface like ice cubes, the level of the bath increasing towards the top as more and more pieces of steel were put in.

Then Shirou closed his eyes, and reached into the tub, sticking his hand down into the quicksilver, submerging it to his wrist. Slowly, the visible heads of the scrap steel sank, like they were being pulled under by an invisible force.

He stood like that for several minutes, concentrating, eyes closed.

Kuradeel shifted uncomfortably, but barely breathed, afraid to disrupt Shirou's focus.

Then Shirou's eyes snapped open, and he confidently heaved his hand up.

He was gripping a long metal blank. It wasn't a sword, more like a bar of steel vaguely shaped like a sword. The metal looked off, though, wet and smooth, almost like moist clay.

Quickly Shirou walked over to his anvil. Kuradeel shuffled out of his way.

Without sticking the barstock in the forge, Shirou gripped his hammer, and began striking, pounding quickly and accurately on the cold metal, using more strength than normal to directly force the metal into shape. He paused several times, glancing at the sword taking shape, getting thinner and longer from the squat bar he started with, Shirou shifting around in place as he looked at it critically from several angles, like he was waiting for it to cool, before lifting up his hammer again.

Kuradeel slowly walked around to stand beside him, and watched as his new sword began looking more and more like a proper sword, and less and less like a simple steel bar.

Finally, the greatsword was complete, and Shirou nodded in satisfaction, before he carefully lifted it in front of him with both hands. It was desperately simple, an unadorned blade with only the hint of a fuller, a squat, simple crossguard, and a long handle leading to a bulbous, ball-like pommel. Then it blurred, and suddenly it was finished, black leather corded around the handle. But there wasn't any etching or decoration. It was still simple. It was still shorter than Kuradeel preferred.

"There." Shirou said, proudly. "It's complete. First attempt, too." He turned to look at Kuradeel, with satisfaction on his face. "Thanks for the advice. It came out well."

"You're welcome." Kuradeel replied automatically, and reached out equally automatically to take the sword as it was proffered to him.

He had known the algorithm-like name was coming, so he had already daydreamed about what he was going to rename it.

But as he equipped it and checked it's stats, his heart sank. This was the sword that [The Sixth Ranger] designed to be perfect for him? It was mediocre. It was even worse than the weapon he had right now. Compared to what Front Liner equipment was supposed to be, it was frankly trash.

Kuradeel turned to look at Shirou, who was standing proudly with his arms crossed over his chest.

"[Metal Slime Essence] is actually just mercury." Shirou said, like he was explaining a surprise. "It's common sense that mercury can't form an alloy with iron, but actually it can, it's just that iron amalgam starts breaking down at a little below room temperature. Well, it's true that it's mechanical properties are still bad compared to most steel, but we can cheat with spellcasting and make it stable, at least."

Kuradeel goggled. Seriously? That was the big reveal? That his sword was made out of dental fillings?

Shirou nodded, and then frowned at Kuradeel. "Well, go on. What are you waiting for? Reinforce it." Shirou nodded. "Nothing carries a spell like mercury, after all."

What was there to lose? Kuradeel closed his eyes, opened his Circuit, raised his sword in front of him, and carefully poured prana into it.

He grunted, eyes snapping open as the sword instantly responded, noticeably heavier in his grasp.

Kuradeel's breath caught.

A jet black blade, baroque curls like tongues of fire that whipped up and out from a handle of sharp thorns, evil-looking edges merging one into the next as it swept up to a wickedly curved tip. It was the perfect length, the handle shifting to a slightly triangular profile that matched his hand so well it was almost like the sword has gripping his palm rather than the other way around. The pommel was a heavy ruby, and little ruby chips were inset along the blade, glowing lines linking them together with slight curves, like organic circuitry. The glowing pulsed in time with his heartbeat.

And the stats were overwhelmingly better. These numbers… as expected of top-tier Front Liner gear.

Kuradeel smiled, instinctively rehefting the sword, testing the swing. It was like the sword was cooperating with him, responding to his intention as soon as he decided how he wanted to move.

"Yes." Shirou said, behind him. It wasn't like he was any farther away than before, but somehow he sounded distant to Kuradeel.

"Mercury really does make the best substrate for spells." Shirou continued. "You should experiment, the response to [Alteration] should be equally dramatic."

This sword… it could become even better? Kuradeel could scarcely imagine it. But once he could, then it would respond. Kuradeel could tell just by holding it. This was something that responded to him, to his specialness. This kind of response was only possible for a [Bogeyman].

Kuradeel dragged his attention away, and focused on Shirou.

"Shirou-san." He began. "No, [The Sixth Ranger-sama]." He licked his lips. "Thank you for this sword." He meant it from the bottom of his heart.

"Do you know where Ilya-sama is?" He continued. "I want to start repaying her trust right away."

"I don't, so just PM her." Shirou responded. "You're in the same [Guild] now, remember?"

He honestly had forgotten. Kuradeel grinned. He finally had it.

Somewhere he belonged.

I I I

End

1) So in the commentary for the artbook with the rough drafts of the character design, Reki described Kuradeel as something like "he had the gaming skills to be a Front Liner, but not the social skills." So I'm trying to make him that kind of person, someone who resents others a little too much.

2) That being said, he was also yan-yan and had chuuni taste, so I'm hoping that's coming through. Kuradeel, shine on, you crazy diamond. Let me know if it felt that way.

3) Was the similarity between his element and [Wishcraft] there? I didn't want it to be, like, too obvious.

 

[daniel_gudman]

15.3 Cats' Claws

I I I

"Well," Kirito said, as he picked himself off the ground, "that didn't work."

"You okay?" Shirou asked, as the other boy carefully stood. Since they were Partied he could see Kirito's HP bar was full, but he wasn't sure if there might be other side effects.

"Yeah, just fine." Kirito said, sighing. "I wish they didn't explode so reliably, though."

"I think I know why." Shirou said, frowning to himself.

"Yeah?" Kirito said, with a slightly hesitant look on his face.

In response, Shirou held out his hand. "Trace, On." He announced, and a metal cylinder with a textured surface for gripping dropped into his palm.

He flicked the thumbswitch, and the [Lightsaber] sprung to life. The humming was higher-pitched than in the movie, but it was still correct.

"So the way this works is by forcing compressed Ether into the shape of a sword." Shirou recounted, summarizing. "Or rather, we each contributed half of the Code; your half generates and compresses Ether into a plasma-like state, and my half applies the concept of 'Sword' to force it into that shape as it's created."

He swung it experimentally. "I think the issue is that when it makes contact with something with enough conceptual weight, there's interference and the idea of 'sword' gets pulled off."

Shirou reinforced his eyesight, increasing his dynamic vision and visual rate. It was still a little disorienting; Increasing the 'framerate' of his eyes was like time-accelerating his visual perception, but it wasn't like his reflexes or thoughts were Hasted, either.

"Ugh." Kirito said. "So they keep exploding in our faces because the Ether just, like, boils off immediately when the shape wobbles?"

"Sounds about right." Shirou said, throwing it with a lazy overhand toss so it spun through the air.

The blade made contact with the ground, and burst apart, a fiery roar as the handle careened away to slam into the wall.

"I'm more sure of it now." Shirou said. "It cracked like glass, but the Ether immediately punched through the weak spots. It was like a pressure cooker bursting."

Kirito pondered. "That's an unstable equilibrium, isn't it."

"Yes." Shirou agreed.

"Which means it's basically a dead-end that can't be fixed." Kirito continued.

"Probably." Shirou agreed, with a heavy sigh.

Kirito sighed too, shoulders slumping. "I'm officially depressed. Let's talk about something else." He turned, shuffling from the sparring yard through the doors to the forge.

Shirou considered that. "The [Black Cats] dropped by." He fell into step behind Kirito as they walked inside.

Kirito winced without looking back over his shoulder. "Yeah, I heard about that."

"I went easy on them." Shirou said, feeling defensive.

Kirito's stare was blank, before he slowly blinked and looked away. "You know what? Never mind. I mean, thanks for giving them a shot, I really appreciate it." Kirito raised his hands. "It.. it means a lot that you agreed to upgrade their weapon loadouts."

"I'm always happy to help." Shirou said, smiling easy.

Kirito smiled, looking a bit guilty. "Well, I mean, it felt kind of like petty corruption that I pushed people I know to the front of the queue, rather than making them wait their turn."

"Kirito." Shirou replied. "Our [Guild Leader] is Ilya."

Kirito snorted. "I keep forgetting that you can have a mouth on you."

Shirou didn't want to dignify that with a response.

"Let's start with Tetsuo." Shirou said instead, as he leaned to half-sit on his favorite anvil. Because Tetsuo was the one that stepped forward to stand in front, in a way it was appropriate to consider him first.

"Well, mostly he tanks." Kirito began, as he settled onto the table behind Shirou. "I dunno how it went when you sparred them, but that's his role in the party."

Shirou grimaced a little. "He didn't handle pressure too well." Shirou replied, shaking his head slightly. "I mean, it's not like he panicked, but he consistently fell for my bluffs and let me get right past him."

"I still fall for your bluffs more often than not." Kirito pointed out. "Compared to a normal mob, your body language is full of lies."

"I understand that," Shirou said, although he didn't approve, "but once I got him off balance, he was too flustered to do anything. Uncertainty is the enemy."

"Eeeh." Kirito said, with a lukewarm shrug. "He was pretty down after you sparred with them, to be honest. At least, I think he was. He's pretty quiet." Kirito was starting to ramble, a habit when he wasn't sure on what he was saying.

From Shirou's perspective, part of what made Tetsuo especially difficult was that he used a bludgeoning weapon, which was far enough from [Sword] that it wasn't quite as intuitive for him to make something special.

And they weren't popular weapons, either. There were many other blacksmith Players who took advantage of the in-built game synergy between the [Smithing] and [Hammer] skills, but those were mostly Crafters rather than Fighting Players. Additionally, they generally had enough pride as weaponsmiths that they didn't want to go to another weaponsmith to make their weapons for them.

The strongest bludgeoning-type weapon Shirou could think of off-hand was that [Water Hammer] that was used by [Gorm the Orcish King]. However, Tetsuo couldn't use the Water Element.

"He's also the healer, right?" Shirou said, a bit abruptly. It hadn't come up during the training battle, and they hadn't needed any during or after because it had been right in the [Safe Zone].

"Yeah, he is." Kirito affirmed.

Shirou grunted. "He doesn't use his weapon at all for that, though." It was a statement, not a question. If Tetsuo had, then Shirou would have seen it in the history of his weapon.

Shirou's eyes paused on a longsword.

In English, there was a verb for repeatedly and seriously beating someone, [Pummel].

On the bottom of the handle of a longsword was a knob of solid steel, a counterweight called a [Pommel], or [Pummel] as the archaic name.

The verb of beating someone was taken from the noun naming the sword part.

Because, during the era of knights, it wasn't uncommon for a knight to flip their sword around, hold it by the blade, and furiously hammer on their opponent with the pummel of the sword.

The reason was simple. Rather than risk chipping or denting the blade against someone's plate mail, use the round part to bludgeon them, protecting the edge from damage. For someone wearing armor themselves, including chain-mail gloves, something like holding their own sword by the blade was no big deal.

And didn't Tetsuo use Healing Spells to clean up damage, after the fighting was over and they were taking stock of themselves?

Perhaps Shirou could leverage that. A sword so heavily modified it was correctly used "Upside Down" as a mace, but could be flipped around and used, not as a sword, but as an athame for healing magic.

And Tetsuo could use the [Ether Element]. The whole Guild could, even though they didn't seem to leverage it particularly.

Maybe something like that. He had just thought of that [Water Hammer] after all, which dealt extra damage by conferring momentum to the blood inside the body of the enemy.

Combine that with the concept of "Pummel past the armor", treating the [Body] as [Armor], and make it a weapon that was used to directly bash the enemy on the spiritual level.

Yes, and hanging upside down, and placing tools upside down, was an old-fashioned way to touch the spirit of things past their physical substance. That was why witches would traditionally meditate by hanging from a rope tied around their ankle.

And it supported the dual usage. When held as a mace, it was a weapon for bludgeoning the spirit of the enemy, and when held as a sword, it was an athame for healing the physical body.

Shirou nodded to himself, satisfied with both the concept of creation and the hypothesis of the basic structure.

"You look like you've figured something out." Kirito said, interrupting his train of thought.

"Hmm?" Shirou said, blinking as he looked up. "Well, yes."

He moved immediately to the forge while the idea was upon him, firing it up, selecting the hammer, and drawing out the materials. He shaped the sword, leaving a space in the very center of the over-sized striking pommel for a precious stone.

"What kind of raw materials do they have?" Shirou asked over his shoulder at Kirito.

"Uh, let me ask." Kirito said back.

He worked quickly, frowning when the first one came out. The blade wasn't quite rigid enough when swung, and it slid in his grip a little too easily. Shirou decided to straighten the taper and round it more, as well as introducing a roughened surface pattern to improve the grip friction on his next attempt. He swung it a couple times, carefully checking the balance.

"He [PMed] me back. They've got a ton of high-quality wood like always, and a couple rare drops."

"Tell him to pick out a gem or stone that fits him really well, appropriate as in inset for a sword or mace." Shirou said.

"Ok." Kirito replied, sounding a little nonplussed, but not surprised or particularly curious. That was unusual, but on the other hand, he was smart and knew enough that Kirito had probably already mostly figured it out.

Shirou nodded to himself as the billet reached the perfect temperature, pulling it out to quickly and confidently begin hammering it into the correct shape. The second prototype came out well, with good balance and the right rigidity, and a better surface grip.

"Alright." Kirito said, "He stuck something in the shared Inventory page, it's an opal he found on a riverbed that he's been using as a [Prana Reservoir]. I didn't know he knew any gemcraft." Kirito said the last part mostly to himself.

"Perfect." Shirou said, turning to catch the gem as Kirito lazily tossed it underhand to him.

He broke the second prototype down, and returned the materials to the fire to heat up. He worked even more quickly this time, hammer moving without any pauses as he smoothly pounded it into shape the instant the temperature was right.

In an instant it was complete, and Shirou turned, presenting it to Kirito.

Kirito looked down at the sword, and then up at Shirou, before he reached out to take it, equipping it.

"What?" Kirito said. "Shirou, I've never seen this popup before. This thing can be used with the [One-Handed Sword] or [One-Handed Mace] skill?"

"Yes," Shirou began. "The idea is something like [Upside down]. When used as a mace, the blows diffuse into the astral plane to also affect the spirit of things, and when flipped around to use as a sword, it boosts healing spells."

Kirito paused for a moment. "I shouldn't be surprised, but making a sword that fits a mace user is just the kind of sideways thing you'd do."

"Is it bad?" Shirou asked, concerned. "We can try something else, if..."

"No, no!" Kirito said, hastily waving his arms. "Lateral thinking is awesome!" Kirito made an awkward gesture, like he thought about patting Shirou on the shoulder but didn't want to impose. "It's good, I'm sure he'll like it."

Shirou nodded, crossing his arms as he leaned against the anvil behind him. "That's good then."

"I guess next is Sasamaru." Shirou said. Yes, if Tetsuo was the tank who stood in the front, then Sasamaru was the attacker who stood in the front.

"He'd probably just be happy with something that improved his [Heat Hawk] effect." Kirito said.

Shirou grunted.

On the Front Line, there was a member of the Paladins named Cuvie who used personally-created Ice Magic with his spear as something like a pen to dictate where the ice would be drawn onto the world. It had been fun taking that image and manifesting it into the world, making something that was as much a Mystic Code to support his spellcasting as it was a weapon for attacking his enemy. Combined with the fact that his ice magic used a two-element approach, Shirou had built "Two Services" into the fundamental concept and created a weapon he was proud to have made, even if spears were naturally more difficult for him. But that had been a fun spear to make, with a blade that was forked like a split tongue.

Well, Cuvie had a distinct way of fighting that blended his daily activities guarding Front-Line Gatherers with his participation in Boss Raids (another duality that the "Two Services" foundation enhanced). Relying on his ice to fence away the boss, he could later use the ice for an alternate angle attack, or to bind the enemy's position. A battle style that relied on controlling enemy motion, pinning them down and executing them as much as fighting them.

Compared to that, Sasamaru was just... bland. He matched the timing with Tetsuo and the mob, and used straight thrusting attacks. Shirou kept having to reset because he folded once Shirou broke through or snuck past his distance control.

"You said that all the members of the guild have the [Ether] element, right?" Shirou asked to confirm.

"Yeah, but they don't all use it equally often." Kirito replied. "Sasamaru leans pretty heavy on his [Fire] element to up his average DPS, but he's got [Ether] and [Wind], too."

"I'm kind of surprised that [Heat Hawk] is so popular. I mean, on the Front Line it makes sense, but I'm surprised that Mid and even Rear Liners pick it up so easily." Shirou said.

Kirito shrugged. "It's a Gundam reference, so I guess everyone can visualize what it's supposed to do real easily."

"Are there corresponding spells for the other elements?" Shirou asked. He was confident that Kirito would know.

And Kirito did not disappoint, sighing dramatically as he rolled his eyes. "Ugh, yeah, but they're super rare. Agil wanted a complete set, so he went ahead and invented them, but the rest never caught on." Kirito shrugged. "I think it's because he named them all after birds, it strayed into joke territory and nobody can take them seriously."

Shirou frowned. "Is that why he wanted an axe that could equally handle all five elements?"

"Yeah, and he was annoyed you sent him to open-endedly fetch five materials, one for each element." Kirito replied. "Not that I'm complaining, rubbing his face in it was hilarious, but then he threatened me with higher prices, so I'm worried I teased him too much."

"I'm not sorry." Shirou flatly replied. "Good quality is worth best efforts."

"Preaching to the choir, here." Kirito agreed, amused. "Anyway, I dragged Asuna along and we got them. She doesn't like them much because she's totally burst damage, but they're actually kind of interesting."

"Yeah?" Shirou said. "What are they called?"

Kirito leaned back, staring into space for a minute before he started counting on his fingers. "Lessee, there's [Heat Hawk] obviously, and then [Air Falcon], [Water Eagle], and [Earth Kestrel], and, uh," Kirito's expression faltered as he ran out of fingers and ticked onto his thumb, before he powered through, "anyway the last one is [Psy Duck]."

Shirou blinked. "Like the--"

"Yes like the Pokemon." Kirito finished for him, annoyance leaking into his voice. "I warned Agil it single-handedly turned the whole set into a lame joke instead of being lame clever, but he was stubborn."

"But you still--"

"Yes I made the Black Cats all learn it anyway." Kirito replied again, a little more smug this time.

"You drag Asuna along to have her teach the rest of the set?" Shirou asked, amused.

Kirito paused, a complex expression crossing his face. "You know, I haven't... I haven't introduced them, yet." Kirito said. "I feel like it would be... like I was pushing something on Asuna."

Shirou considered that. "She is pretty busy, anyway, as the Guild Vice Commander."

"You can call her [Guild Babysitter]. It's fine." Kirito replied, wry.

"You don't." Shirou countered. "Not to her face, anyway."

"Or in front of Ilya." Kirito agreed.

Shirou considered that. "Yes." He nodded. He glanced up. Kirito still had a slightly jittery look. Shirou wondered whether to let the subject stay changed or drag it back.

He would face it head on. "So you don't want to make Asuna feel obligated to look after more people?" Shirou said.

Kirito opened his mouth, but then paused. "Kind of? I mean she's already trying to figure out how to properly use those [Titan's Hand] guys that Ilya dropped on us, and our party dynamic during Boss Fights is still kind of a mess, so I don't want to... I guess I don't want to make her think I can't take care of some Mid Liners I volunteered to look after?" He shook his head. "But I feel a little guilty too, like I'm hiding it from her instead."

The closest experience Shirou could think of was the Archery Club. He liked helping other people, so he hadn't minded cleaning up the dojo, or teaching the Freshmen how to look after the bow, or stuff like that. But there had been a gap. For him Archery was a way to meditate, and a way to kill. Even those years before the Grail War, he hadn't said anything, but for him, it had been a way to walk with death, to refine his spirit as a magic-user. For the other students, even if they took it seriously, it was a competition, a sport. It wasn't something Shirou wanted to explain, and the deeper his understanding got, the bigger that gap felt. Even if the way he did it had been rough, Shinji had given him an excuse to leave, and he had seized it, and his heart hadn't wavered even seeing the hurt on Mitsuzuri's face.

Was that was the gap between Kirito and the Black Cats?

Kirito understood what the [Death Game] meant. Even if he didn't understand the true risks of magecraft, Kirito understood that Kayaba was holding a virtual gun to his head, the hammer cocked and the finger easing up against the trigger every time his HP bar went into the red. And even so, Kirito pushed himself enough that his HP went into the red.

But when he had sparred the Black Cats, they hadn't been the same. Their lack of desperation while they fought against him, the way they wilted, they didn't understand what it meant to willingly step into a tiger's jaws. They understood the danger with their heads, but they hadn't really accepted it in their hearts. No, that wasn't quite right. Sacchi had understood, but instead of pushing forward, she shrank back.

"I think as long as you protect the Black Cats, it will be fine." Shirou finally decided. "Asuna has picked up heavy responsibility on the Front Line, and the Cats aren't Front Liners. You should introduce them when you get the chance, but you're right it's not fair to put even more onto Asuna's shoulders."

"I guess." Kirito agreed, an uncertain smile on his face.

Even Shirou could tell the pause after that was getting awkward.

"So!" Kirito said, clapping his hands. "Sasamaru!"

"It would be good if you pushed him to include all three of his elements." Shirou mused, leaning back, pursing his lips as he considered.

Ah, since he was a spear-user who focused on thrusting skills and had three elements, how about a Sankaku Yari? A style of traditional Japanese spear, where the cross-section of the spear's blade was a triangle, either equilateral or, less often, isosceles. They weren't suited for slashing, but they could punch through armor. That was fine because Sasamaru relied entirely on thrusts anyway. Traditionally yari blades were long and straight, with an extended tang that was bolted into a shaft, much like a katana. That way, Shirou could still lean on his [Sword Smithing] to make it. And each of the three sides of the blade could be engraved with a symbol for each of Sasamaru's three elements.

Using the Empedoclean symbology, elements were represented as different drawings of triangles. That had good symbolic overlap with the geometry of the Three-Side Spear they would be engraved on. That syllogism would increase the mystic link between the spear and the three elements. Fire was an equilateral triangle pointed up, Air was an equilateral triangle pointed up with a second line through it, and Ether... hmn. Empedocles, the philosopher who first proposed the Four Classical Elements, didn't include Ether. That was added later by Aristotle. Therefore it didn't have a true Empedoclean symbol. Some people represented Ether as two overlapping triangles like a star of David, and another popular sign was a circle.

Shirou quickly made a pair of prototypes for the spearhead, one marked with the overlapping triangles and the other with the circle.

"Oh, I get it." Kirito said. "Three equal sides, each primed for an element?"

"Yeah." Shirou replied. "But I'm not sure about the balance on the [Ether] sides... can you give them a try?"

"Sure." Kirito said, reaching out to accept them from Shirou's hands. He frowned slightly and his eyes unfocused as he poured magic power into them, shaping an attack spell into both blades.

"There." Kirito said, blinking. "That's what [Psy Duck] looks like."

Compared to the various ways that Kirito and Ilya used Ether to improve their attacks, it wasn't very impressive.

"The balance is off." Shirou muttered.

Kirito grimaced. "A little? This one," he shook the one with the double-triangle mark, "feels a little better, but it definitely feels like the spell is kind of... getting shunted out the side? Yeah, the balance is off."

Shirou clicked his tongue. Neither sign had the conceptual weight of the Fire and Air signs. The lopsided response offended his aesthetic sense, so he frowned, considering what he should do.

Ah, how about Trigrams? Three of yang (unbroken) or yin (broken in half) lines, stacked one-over-another, making a total of eight different symbols.

Yang-yang-yang was Tien, which meant Heaven or Sky and matched Aristotle's assertion that a fifth element was needed to represent the unchanging heavens, while yang-yin-yang was Fire and yang-yang-yin was Wind.

Although the cultural foundation of the symbols were further removed from the signs than was ideal, they wouldn't be unbalanced by different historical weight like the Empedoclean signs would be.

Nodding to himself, Shirou made a third prototype, this one with the three Hexagrams marked on the three sides. He hammered it quickly and smoothly, and then pulled it out, turning to present it to Kirito.

Kirito looked down at the two blades he was still holding, and up at the third one in Shirou's hand. Quickly, he stuck the one in his right hand in his mouth, gripping it between his teeth so it stuck sideways out past his cheek.

"Thfee Thword Thyle," Kirito said, reaching out to grab the third one in his now-free right hand, applying the spell to it as well. "Onee-Geehlee!" He announced, tilting his head and swinging all three in parallel before striking a pose.

Shirou narrowed his eyes, Grasping the difference in performance that the Trigrams made.

Kirito spat out the one in his mouth, grabbing it with his right hand again, shuffling them so that the two blades were pinched between his fingers as they hung down.

"You know," Kirito said, "It's actually super-embarrassing when you just look serious during a gag like that."

"That just means your soul doesn't burn hot enough." Shirou blandly replied.

Kirito blinked, before grinning. "Well at least you get these jokes. I tried it on Asuna-ojou-sama and she just asked me what I thought I was doing."

"Anyway I think that one turned out well." Shirou said. "I don't see how I could improve it on another iteration, to be honest."

"Cool." Kirito agreed, before he lobbed the third blade back to Shirou. "Here, catch."

Shirou smoothly snagged it out of the air, tapping open the [Blacksmithing] skill to add the haft. He'd already gotten some high-quality wood from the Cats, so he used that.

"There." He said, as the menu closed and the shaft materialized onto the blade. "That should do it."

"Yeah, that's slick." Kirito agreed, testing it before storing it away in his inventory.

"Who should we do next? Sacchi?" Shirou asked.

"I think she's going to be the hardest." Kirito admitted.

Shirou paused before responding. "I agree." He considered what to say next, before deciding to just ask directly. "Why is she even in the same [Guild] as the rest of them?"

It wasn't like the four boys were particularly talented, but they were at least enthusiastic. They enjoyed being Mid Liners, and they felt satisfaction from helping to clear the game, no matter how small their help was. Because Shirou respected that, he hadn't felt any hesitation at taking up Kirito's request to improve their gear.

But Sacchi was different. In terms of personality, she was a Rear Liner at best. Passive enough to be Retired. Shirou thought she would be a lot happier staying in a [Safe Zone] and working as a Crafter or such.

"Oof." Kirito grunted. "Well, I mean, this is talk from before, so it's not something you should spread around,"

"Right." Shirou agreed, nodding.

Kirito nodded back, continuing, "But they were from the same high school, and they started playing the game together, and then they stuck together after the [Official Launch] for emotional support."

"That makes sense." Shirou said, considering. "I could tell that they really cared for each other, but their cooperation was... unprofessional. Sacchi was the worst."

Kirito winced at that. "Yeah. She helps out as a Supporter, when she can. I think only Ilya has a larger prana capacity, so she maintains all the [Pack Animal Familiars] and has that [Extension Cord] spell to provide prana to the other guild-members. And yes, that's really what they named it, I didn't have anything to do with that one." Kirito paused to take in a breath. "But she's shifted roles a couple times. She started as Spear DPS like Sasamaru but it didn't really work, and then she had a sword/shield combo for a while and that was even worse, and last I saw she had a bow equipped and was okay at that."

"Yes, that was the primary weapon she used against me." Shirou replied. It was better in the sense she didn't have an instinct for melee, but she was a mediocre shot at best.

"Yeah they told me about that." Kirito said, amusement creeping into his tone. "What part of bare-handed arrow parrying is [Going Easy], anyway?"

"One time I grabbed one out of the air and stabbed Tetsuo in the eye." Shirou admitted. "I knew it was a little much even at the time, but the opening was perfect, so I just went for it."

"They didn't share that story with me." Kirito said, in full gossip mode.

"Yeah, they all froze afterward, I seriously thought I had bypassed the [Safe Zone] damage nullification somehow." Shirou continued.

"Anyway, for Sacchi, she hasn't really settled on a weapon yet." Kirito said. "I mean, honestly I hesitate to have you make her something, because then she'll feel obligated to use it because it's Rare Gear, but leaving only her out would be bullying, so that's no good either. If it was something bland like a casting support tool, that might be best?"

Shirou paused, hesitating. "I think it might be a little presumptive for me to make her an athame."

"What?" Kirito replied.

"Well, you know," Kirito clearly didn't, "she's your student, not mine, so it would be a bit tasteless of me to make her one. If you were graduating her then I could go all out as a commencement gift, but athame-crafting is really something that should be done for one's own sake if possible, and with the direct master's help if necessary." A magus should make their own general-purpose support tools. It wasn't like Shirou particularly respected the formalities of the Mage Association, but Rin was strict about such things. Honestly if it hadn't been about swords then Shirou probably wouldn't have been charmed by the idiosyncrasy of it.

"You and Ilya get hung up on the weirdest lore." Kirito decided.

"There's something else, though." Shirou said, thinking back.

"Yeah?" Kirito said.

"So I disarmed her, and she pulled her backup weapon. Just this dagger." Shirou began. "And I was pressuring her. Testing her. And she wasn't doing too well, just swinging wildly trying to cover her retreat." Shirou grimaced. It hadn't been pretty, and he'd felt like a bully. But it was better for him to test her limits than for her to run up against them in the field.

"She never got close to hitting me, but..." Shirou couldn't explain it. He wasn't the type that relied on unparalleled instinct like Saber. His senses weren't honed that sharply.

But even so. Those wild, awkward, inefficient swings...

Something about them was dangerous. Something about them made Shirou take them seriously. It wasn't his instincts as a fighter. It had been his insight as a magic-user. It wasn't something he could really articulate. It was like she had something, some talent that was still locked up inside her.

Shirou thought he could help her pull it out. Whatever it was she could unlock with a sword, that much he was confident of. Shirou could help awaken it, whatever [It] was.

But should he?

If it was a Front Liner or even a regular Mid Liner, then he wouldn't worry about it. If it was something that would improve survival, that could increase their battle power, then there was no problem. The side effects of forcibly awakening a spiritual trait could be at least accepted if not embraced, as long as it was someone that genuinely thought it was worth it to do so. But that wasn't where Sacchi was at. Fundamentally she was a civilian, and wanted to remain a civilian. Forcing herself to confront something inside herself for more power, she would hesitate. She wasn't a Front Liner like that.

"Never mind." Shirou said. Seeing the annoyance evolving on Kirito's face, he hastened to head off the complaints about being deliberately mysterious. "It's just a guess, and I'm not sure enough to even put it in words yet."

"If you say so." Kirito grumped.

Shirou decided to get back on track.

"So ranged attacks would be better than melee," Shirou summarized, "and it should leverage her large prana capacity."

"Something like a [Rod of Magic Missile] would probably be best." Kirito agreed.

"What about that thing you pulled out against that last Boss?" Shirou asked. "Where you swung your sword and an Ether Shadow of the blade spun out to slash the enemy at range?"

"The [Linker Beam]?" Kirito confirmed. "Yeah, actually, that might be good."

Compared to the energy blasts that Ilya used and the [Magic Missile], the [Linker Beam] was something Kirito had come up with after they'd been working on the [Lightsaber].

What Kirito did was, he filled the Sword up with prana, treating the blade as a mold for ether rather than soaking the prana into the blade like Reinforcement. And then, he swung the sword, like he was throwing the ether-casting out of the mold. Like that, a sword-shaped beam of prana was flung out like a boomerang. Because of the resonance of history, Shirou could even see that Kirito had gotten the idea from looking sideways at their [Lightsaber] prototypes.

Shirou gathered the name [Linker Beam] was some kind of video game joke from the exasperated sigh Ilya had made when he announced the name. Especially since Ilya had immediately responded it wasn't that useful if Kirito could only use it at max HP, but Kirito had immediately replied his was an improved version. That kind of back-and-forth banter had made it clear they both got the reference, but the moment had passed for Shirou to ask.

"You want to make her a sword that's a [Mystic Code] for that spell, then?" Shirou asked.

Kirito nodded. "Yeah, and don't give it a name like usual. Give it something that works out to seven, like [Sacchi] does."

"Do they use enough Numerology for it to matter?" Shirou asked.

Kirito made an awkward half-smile. "Enough? I've taught them some, anyway. At least, as much as isopsephic reduction, and how that improves sympathy. You might have seen that I finally gave my own sword a [True Name] as well, right?"

Shirou nodded. "[Ether Divider], was it?"

Kirito blinked. "Um, yes...? Anyway the sum of [Ether Divider] is 73, so the number is One. Likewise, [Kirito] adds up to 37, so my name-number is also One. I was really happy when I got it so that they had the same digits even on the first summation, without having it just be a reshuffle of the same letters. Plus the reference to both my one element and a math operation. And at the same time, [Dividing] is what a sword does, splitting something in two. Just a lot of sympathetic weight packed into the name."

It even worked as a kenning, the old way that English and Danes used to refer to things by allusion, like naming a sword "Damage Twig."

"Anyway, don't finish the sword, or more precisely, don't give the sword a name until I come up with something good."

"It would work better if I included the name in the basic concept." Shirou replied.

"Ugh, I can't, like, perform on command." Kirito complained.

"I believe in you." Shirou replied. It was the perfect counterattack to shut down complaining. It was like a magic spell that ended any resistance. At least, when used against Ilya. Shirou was trying not to wear it out. Still, looking at Kirito's face, he wasn't fooled.

"Fine." Kirito said with a heavy sigh, as he tapped open his menu. Oh, even if he wasn't fooled, he still bought it.

"Just let me work for a bit." Kirito continued, manipulating something only he could see, occasionally tapping at his holographic keyboard.

Yes, if it was a "mystic code for one spell" where the name was important, then he should include that in the concept of creation. It wasn't the same as Kirito's sword, which was designed to be an extension of his body and style. Something like that should naturally accept whatever name the owner gave it, but this sword would be an independent existence lending power to Sacchi, rather than an extension of her own abilities. So an independent name would improve the sword's innate ego, giving it independent spirit.

"Alright, I have it." Kirito announced. "Please name the sword [Spirit Cutter]. That works out to [Seven], just like [Sacchi] does."

"Yosh." Shirou said, turning to the forge.

[Spirit Cutter]... obviously it retained the same Ether reference that Kirito's blade did, but [Cutter] was a little more restrictive. If a sword could be used for cutting or thrusting, then that kind of name precluded half of that. Still, that wasn't a bad thing, since it was intended for use with an imbedded spell activating by swinging the sword.

A cutter with a boomerang-like effect. A scimitar was good. Yeah, and not too heavy either, since Sacchi wasn't that strong. But put enough weight into the blade, with the center of gravity far out, that it had to complete the swing once it started, not something that would be much use for feinting. That kind of high-level combat technique was beyond Sacchi anyway.

Shirou worked quickly, pulling out the [Steel Ingot] and confidently hammering it into shape as soon as it materialized.

"You know, I just noticed this," Kirito said from behind him, "But don't you need to set the item parameters before you actually start blacksmithing?"

"I don't need that anymore." Shirou replied, a little distracted. Once he had the prototype visualized, he could just feed that directly to [Cardinal], a sort of reverse [Structural Grasp], without having to go through the [Skill Menu].

"...Right." Kirito finally said. Shirou didn't really understand what his heavy tone was for, but it didn't matter.

And with one last blow, it was done.

"There." Shirou said, turning and handing the finished blade to Kirito. He thought it had come out well.

Kirito took it, pausing for a moment and closing his eyes. After a beat, he looked up at Shirou with a slanted expression. "The stats are weirdly lopsided but perfect for what we're intending, and when I [Grasp] this, there's like... it's like there's a hole in the middle of the sword waiting for me to plug the spell formula into it."

"Of course." Shirou said, blinking. Wasn't that exactly what they had discussed.

"Never mind." Kirito said with a wry smile.

"Three down, two to go." Shirou said. "Only Keita and Ducker left."

"If you had a hard time with Tetsuo, then I guess Keita would be even more difficult for you." Kirito mused.

"I know what you mean." Shirou admitted, feeling slightly rueful.

The Guild-leader, Keita. A familiar-master who technically used a staff as his weapon. The intention was probably something like, the staff would be a magic rod to improve his control, but the effect actually provided by the staff was negligible, as far as Shirou could tell while he was sparring them. A staff for augmenting spellcasting could only incidentally count as an 'Armament' to Shirou. It wasn't a tool for melee combat. The things directly engaged in melee combat were those furniture golems.

"You think I should make him some furniture to animate?" Shirou asked, feeling uncertain.

Kirito snorted. "Like the table?"

Shirou winced. A huge mirror-surfaced, under-lit table that dominated the Guild conference room. Although the novelty had worn off for everyone else, Ilya still enjoyed it a lot. Unfortunately, while Shirou knew he was willing to put up with Ilya's foibles, and Kirito often enjoyed playing along with her shenanigans, Asuna had extremely little patience with nonsense. As a result, getting together to plan Boss Raids had gotten a lot more... there was a lot more of those two snapping at each other.

Given the thoughtful expression on Kirito's face, he was thinking about something else. "Keita was the one who led the way on making that monstrosity, actually. I don't know that making furniture for him to turn into a golem is the right direction."

"Yeah." Shirou agreed. "I see what you mean."

Shirou was a specialist at making swords. He could apply some of that skill to making furniture, say a steel bench. But compared to what Keita could accomplish as a specialist who constructed furniture for use as a golem, it wasn't like Shirou could do better. In that case, what was the point in Shirou making something for Keita?

There was a way, however. Rather than applying his skills at making swords, apply his approach as an enchanter with exposure to many Noble Phantasms. Borrow the weight of many years of legend to make something that was conceptually heavy.

Well, if it was something like a "Table of Legend", then there actually was one that instantly and obviously came to his mind, but Shirou hesitated, and paused, searching his feelings; and he found he was surprised at his own hesitation, and a little ashamed of it.

It was true that Shirou couldn't see any way Keita could use it. But just because Shirou couldn't see the benefit, that didn't mean anything when Keita was a specialist at using them after all.

No, what surprised him wasn't that he didn't think Keita could use it. It was that Shirou didn't want to share.

Something like selfishness, had he ever felt that before? Even as a small child, from the time Kiritsugu had saved him, Shirou hadn't minded sharing his toys with other kids. Even when Sakura had started coming over, he hadn't minded sharing his kitchen with her. Even though he resented her pushing him out, he hadn't complained too much, because it was something she had wanted.

The Knights of the Round Table. It had been special to her, so Shirou didn't want anyone else to use it.

But was that fair to Keita? Shirou sighed, running his hand through his hair as he debated with himself.

When he opened his eyes, he was looking at the forge's fire, and realized he was getting way ahead of himself.

In the first place, whether Keita made a [Round Table]-themed familiar was up to him, not up to Shirou. Shirou was someone who made swords. He couldn't make a [Round Table] whether it was a mythical artifact, a Furniture-type Familiar, or even just a regular table that happened to be round.

He was getting too caught up in his own feelings, without thinking about what was good for the client. Besides all that, it wasn't like he was working alone right now.

"Kirito, what do you think would be good?" Shirou said.

Kirito hummed. "Leaving aside you two working together to make the obvious answer, let's approach the question from another angle. It's not like Keita equips [Familiars] as a weapon, it's more like he's a Pet-user and you're thinking about upgrading his Pets' gear rather than his gear."

Shirou thought about that, ignoring whatever Kirito thought the obvious answer was. "You're saying I should make a sword for his golems, instead of him."

Kirito nodded. "Yeah, like... chairs have arms, right, so strap a sword to one. Heck you could equip a shield on the other one."

Shirou made an unenthusiastic face. It was a good idea to make weapons for the furniture rather than Keita directly, but what Kirito was describing was starting to anthropomorphize too much. Compared to what Keita actually used, for example, that upright dresser-thing that had spooked him from behind so he had knocked it down and pinned it in place with a dozen swords. Perhaps a sword could be included among the black threads that had tried to drag him in?

And why stop at one sword? Ten-odd blades to go in that thing, a few to hide in that lamp with the hypnotizing bulb, and so on.

No, he was getting ahead of himself. In the first place, it would be better to just provide the blades and let Keita decided the best way to install them, or even design a new furniture golem that would include them properly from the very beginning. Shirou couldn't really read the process of their making out of them just by looking. Since they weren't armaments, he would need to properly cast [Structural Grasp] to get that data, and he just hadn't had the chance. Well, obviously it wasn't like he would have been able to perfectly memorize the data either, but he could still have recalled the gist.

"Rather than that, I think I should just provide him a set of [Hidden Blades], and let Keita install and incorporate them however he wants." Shirou finally responded. "I mean, if idea is to let him decided how his Furniture should be armed, just go all the way with it."

Yes, so really he just needed to decide on a good number on blades.

"Kirito," Shirou continued, while the other boy was still considering what he said before, "What would be a good number of swords to give to Keita?"

"One." Kirito immediately responded. He must have seen something on Shirou's face, because he explained, "K-E-I-T-A is two plus five plus nine plus two plus one, so it's seven plus twelve. That's nineteen, so nine plus one is ten, and one plus zero is one, so one."

"Hm." Shirou considered. Nineteen was a good number, or rather, it sounded more like the scope that he was thinking of. Enough that there were too many for them to develop individually stronger identities, but not so many that Keita would lose track of some. Plus, while something like 47 and invoking the 47 rounin could be interesting, Shirou felt like that would be more swords than Keita could handle.

"It's prime though." Shirou mused. It wasn't like Keita could evenly split it so that each piece of furniture had two swords or three swords, or even give his dresser a round fraction like a third or half, appropriate for a trump card.

"Yeah." Kirito considered, tapping his chin. "Maybe give one to Ducker?"

"Ducker, huh." Shirou thought about the only member of the [Black Cats] they hadn't discussed yet. "I kind of see where you're coming from because he cooperated with Keita a lot, trying to sneak attack from behind while the furniture corralled people." It hadn't worked against Shirou. Compared to the ninjas who constantly threw the enemy off-balance by alternating sneak attacks, Ducker was more like an unexpected trump card. But it was a kind of behavior that fundamentally lacked endurance, because it wasn't something the guild planned to use more than once against any particular opponent.

More than that, Ducker needed something that reflected his individuality. Like all the Black Cats, he needed something to affirm how he fit in with his friends, not just a weapon that was powerful but ego-less.

"I like giving Keita and Ducker part of a set." Kirito explained. "Especially if it's something like, out of a set of 19, Keita attacks with the first 18, and then Ducker is the secret finisher with the last and final blade. Like that."

Shirou nodded. "That's good, but I think even if it's part of the same set, Ducker's needs to fit Ducker particularly. Maybe if it's a cane-sword, a more orthodox hidden weapon? As opposed to weapons that are intended to be hidden in furniture." Shirou paused. "And I'll need your help if you want to explicitly include that [19th Blow] thing as a stable ritual that automatically operates. That's [Mystic Code] territory, rather than just increasing the mystic sympathy by including the number."

"Yeah, I can agree with that." Kirito said. "And you're planning to start right away, huh?"

Shirou had been eying the forge. "It was that obvious?"

Kirito sighed. "Yeah. Listen, I'm going to finish the enchantment on Sacchi's sword, so let me know if you finish before I do, okay?"

It was a useless question. Shirou knew that whoever finished first would quietly wait without interrupting the second one, and he knew that Kirito knew it, as well. Still, he approved of Kirito's consideration.

"Sure, but I'm going to finish first." Shirou replied blandly, as he turned to the forge, grabbing his hammer and hefting it a few times to find the perfect grip.

"Oh it's on now." Kirito said. "Loser pays for dinner."

"Sure." Shirou said, distracted. His mind had already filled with swords.

I I I

End

1) Like I said in the idea thread, this one and 15.2 have been partially complete for a long time... then a week ago I had an idea, and rewrote this entire thing (ie, with Kirito). Well, let me know how it turned out, if it was too chunky or whatever.

2) Yes Shirou is seriously holding himself to the standards of tribute master craftsman paid to the King of Everyone during the Age of Legends. Rin isn't around to tell him he's being absurd. Since his only exposure to real magic armaments is "Noble Phantasms, mostly from the Age of Legends, maybe the Age of Gods", his common sense has a strange calibration.

3) What is the "obvious answer" that Kirito was thinking of? "Furniture+Swords", I'm curious to see if you folks in the audience can guess what I was alluding to.

4) That thing with Sacchi's hidden talent? If you already know what I'm getting at (from the Idea thread), then don't ruin it for the people who don't.

5) It's been a while, huh...? Well, now that I'm back in the saddle, let's cross our fingers that I will stay in the saddle.

 

[daniel_gudman]

15.4 Argo and Shirou

I I I

The [Wheel and Eel].

Facing the central plaza of [Elvengrad] from the south side of the east street. A one-story stone building with large windows, a bar that mostly catered to Mid Liner Gatherers and the people who hired them.

Argo knew that originally it had been designed with an open-air balcony on the roof to take advantage of the sunny summer-like weather that the Eighth Floor maintained, but the balcony was always closed because customers felt uncomfortable. It was surrounded by four-story wooden buildings, so it was easy to feel boxed in despite being outside.

Argo paused for a second, glancing up at the bronze wheel with an eel threaded through the spokes that served as the building's sign. Then she shook her head, once, and walked inside. The bronze statue was exactly the same, but the wooden beam it was hanging from was a more ornate replacement of what had been there the last time she had visited.

She stepped inside, glancing around as she stepped sideways to get out from in front of the door so other Players could enter.

The bar was to her left, against the eastern wall, opposite the windows facing out onto the central plaza.

[Yano] and [Goose Chaser], two members of the Guild [Errand Fools] that ran the establishment, were serving drinks.

The [Barbarians] caught her attention, sitting around a table at the far end, laughing uproariously at some joke they shared among each other. They were good as far as Mid Liners went, but they didn't have anything deeper than their image to distinguish themselves, although the benefit to morale of that was real enough. Well, they weren't putting in the effort to push themselves over the gap between the Front and the Mid, so Argo honestly didn't have that much to do with them.

The [Slayers] were sitting around another table, dressed even more savagely than the [Barbarians] despite being exclusively teenage girls. They were treated kind of like an Idol Unit by the rest of the Mid Liners, and Argo suspected that their cooperation was a facade over some serious group dysfunction, but whatever.

Argo didn't like them, but it was a little unfair on her part, because she thought the [Barbarians] were stereotypical dude-bros and the [Slayers] were a clique of "High School Popular" girls, the kinds of people that annoyed her most in the real world even though they didn't have anything to do with her.

On the other hand, the serious dysfunction in the [Slayers] was probably rooted in that their Guild Leader had died and they were having trouble handling it, and the [Barbarians] were generous and five members had promoted out to the Front Line before the idea of [Escalator Guilds] had even taken off. Argo had to acknowledge to herself that she didn't like them because of her own baggage, on their own merits they were decent people.

Argo shook her head. They didn't matter to her because there was no business relationship. They didn't explore enough that they needed to buy map info from her that wasn't already free in the Guide, and they didn't develop spells so there wasn't really anything she could buy off them, either.

No, the people she was here to meet were from a different, much stranger guild, and she was having trouble picking them out of the crowd that was sitting around the tables.

There was the [Blue Team], a Mid Liner group who all wore blue over-equipment and claimed that the [Blue Raid] title was reserved for them. Well, their leader used that line in a comic monologue that was actually pretty funny, at any rate.

There were actually a pretty good number of Rear Liners hanging around as well. That made sense, actually; [Mules], that is, [Pack Animals] were one of the most popular types of [Familiar] on the Mid Line, even when they weren't actually Horses or Donkeys or whatever but were some more exotic chimera. As familiars went they were pretty easy, but still somewhat labor-intensive, so there was room for Rear Liners to raise them.

Ah, there were the people she was looking for. She stepped forward, walking towards the darkest corner of the bar, near the back.

The [Molemen]. There were two of them here, sitting hunched over the table.

Wearing heavy leather coats that went down to their knees, with the sleeves tucked into gloves that were buckled over their forearms, and large hoods that covered their heads, looking strangely lumpy without the hardhat strapped down on the top of them.

If you had to describe the [Molemen] in one word, that one word would probably be [Weird], but if you weren't trying to be glib and actually answer the question, the word would be [Underground].

They were normal enough to talk to, but as an example, their Guild Leader had sworn an oath to always have dirt over his head. He hadn't thought that through entirely so he had been trapped on one Floor because he wasn't willing to go back on his word, but Argo had sold him information on those Mud Golems that [Omi the Fool] had used in the Seventh Floor Dungeon, so now he could ride in one of those to use a Floor Gate. Well, he considered it cheating though so only did it to use Floor Gates because there was no other way, he didn't use it to do anything else on the [Surface World], to use his phrase.

When she had visited them to place her request, they had proudly told her about that, like it was something that was worth bragging about. Argo had already known because the golem was huge and caused a stir every time he used it.

Yes, when it came to digging tunnels, exploring caves, creating artificial caverns, and mining, they were heads-and-shoulders above any other guild in the game. Support spells like [Darkvision] or artificial lighting and [Air Purification] were also things they excelled at, just as a matter of necessity.

Of course, they were the only Guild that specialized in the whole underground schtick, too. There were plenty of people that dabbled in mining because ore was needed by the blacksmiths.

Argo paused to make a note to introduce the [Molemen] to Hard from [Takachan's]. That guy was a geologist so there was probably room for synergy there, and since he had given Shirou tips from time to time, she wouldn't even charge him that much.

Still, it was exactly because they were the best at what they did that Argo had reached out to them. No matter how [Weird] they were, you couldn't criticize them too much, because they earned respect with their results.

"[Humbaba]. [Chiyo]." She said, nodding at the two that had been sent to meet her. They nodded stiffly as they looked up, and she sat down.

"Argo-san, hello." Humbaba said, his voice as thick and rough as rocks. He had a face like leather, and a squat nose with a history of breaking engraved on it.

"Heyallo!" Chiyo, by comparison, had the syrupy-sweet voice of a Seiyuu that specialized in adorable little girls. Her face was mildly cute, round with big eyes, but she was actually taller than Humbaba.

"You know, I wanted to ask last time." Argo said, deciding to go with it as an icebreaker. "But why are you called the [Molemen] when I know you're split about equal on gender?"

Humbaba and Chiyo looked at each other, and looked back at her. "Traditio – n?" They said in unison, drawing it out. "Tradition!"

Argo paused for a moment. "Fiddler on the Roof?" She finally asked, recognizing the cadence. She had gone through a showtune period, which was about as close to a dark history as she got.

It was their turn to pause. It was Chiyo who spoke. "I dunno!" She chirped. "That's just what Guildleader said when we asked why, so it became an inside joke!"

"I've been there." Argo said, nodding, as she wondered whether to get a drink or cut to the chase. Well, she was most curious about what Shirou even needed this stuff for, so that decided it. "I got the message from your leader, he said it was probably impossible."

They traded looks again, this time more uncertain.

"Well, that's basically right." Humbaba finally said. "We've dug up a lot of ore, and we even focused on nickel ores like you suggested. But after moving literal tons of the stuff, this is all we found."

And he opened a trade window, with three items listed.

[Low Quality Noble Ore
Low Quality Noble Sulfide Ore
Medium Quality Noble Ore]

All told, they weighed maybe six kilograms. The Medium Quality stuff was only about a quarter of a kilo.

"Do you mind materializing them so I can look at them?" Argo asked.

They glanced at each other again, and Chiyo nodded.

"Sure," Humbaba agreed, and he clicked through his menu.

With a clunk, three rocks materialized on the table. They all looked like sedimentary precipitates, but the Sulfide one had a yellowish, crusty appearance.

Argo reached out, closing her eyes and circulating prana through the [Structural Grasp] that was programmed into the artificial circuit in her right arm.

It was heavier than she expected.

[Low Quality Noble Sulfide Ore]

Mostly Platinum and Palladium, with a bit of Ruthenium and Rhodium, and a smattering of Osmium, Iridium, also all in sulfides. She couldn't get the exact percentages like Shirou could, but the Platinum was three times more abundant than the Palladium, and together they made about about two-thirds of the metal in the ore. Ruthenium and Rhodium were about equal, and an order of magnitude more common than Osmium and Iridium. All of them were saturated sulfides.

Those six metals were the Platinum Group, the so-called Noble Metals.

She could hear echoes of their history as well, that this was as far as the [Smelting] skills they had could go, or more precisely was as far as they were willing to go. The [Molemen] didn't push too hard, only purifying the desired ores out of unwanted rocks without actually affecting any of the metal compounds, correctly assuming that their [Blacksmith] customers would be better at that part.

And the history of it was as wide as the entire Third Floor. This chuck of ore, about three-and-a-half kilograms, was all the ore that this Guild had found. In all their digging, in all their tunneling, in all their mining, in displacing literally thousands of kilograms of rock, this was all the platinum they had to show for it.

Shirou had warned her it had been rare IRL, but this was a little much.

She set it down, and picked up the [Low Quality Noble Ore].

It was mostly Iridium and Osmium, as four-fifths of the metal, with the other four equally blended in. Mostly oxides and silicates of the metals.

Just a shade under three kilos. Just like the Sulfide stuff, this was as far as the [Molemen] wanted to pre-refine it. Likewise, it represented the entire productivity on the second floor, from all their digging around. And she could sense shades of frustration and discouragement; the second floor was pretty well mined out in the Molemens' opinion, all the good drops had been dug up.

Unlike resource nodes, mining fell under the construction rules of permanent change. Once material was excavated, the hole permanently remained. It was a bit of a weird friction between the endlessly regrowing resources of an MMO and the way that the [Construction Rules] allowed Players to permanently change things.

She set that one down, and picked the last one up, rolling it around on her palm, before activating the spell one last time.

The Medium Grade stuff – oh, she recognized where it came from. Wasn't that interesting, there was more than one of those [Demon Rocks] than the one that she had found on her own and dragged Kirito along to see.

And then, deeper than the raw material data and the history from the [Molemen], beyond all that, Argo heard a whispered conversation.

yeah but that's where the quest fluff is pushing us

i see where you're coming from but aren't star-element mats too oh-p for this early in the game

good point let's just make it great iron ore

Her eyes snapped open, and she nearly dropped it.

It had only been a snatch of discussion, three sentences traded back and forth, vague as an echo and quiet as a breeze, but she had definitely heard it.

Two programmers arguing over what properties the meteoric ore should have, back when they were writing the game.

How...?

"Is something wrong?" Humbaba asked, worried.

Argo controlled herself. "No, it was something else." She forced a professional smile onto her face.

"Still," she continued, "I was surprised, even I didn't know there was more than one piece of [Telluric Basalt] around."

Her reaction when Shirou had off-handedly mentioned that the broken [Demon Rock] was actually a Rare Drop if you knew to look; that hadn't been her proudest moment.

Humbaba blinked, rocking back. "How...?"

Argo shrugged, smiling as she set the smallest piece of ore down, setting her questions about it aside at the same time. "100 Col." She replied.

"I see." Humbaba nodded. "Well, I suppose it makes sense that the premier information dealer on the front line would have secret divination magic to detect that kind of thing."

Argo had to grin at that, because it both was true and it wasn't. [Structural Grasp] was something you could learn from practically any NPC Tutor, it was honestly more of a practice exercise than a real spell, it wasn't anything special at all. Except that at the same time, the version she had inherited from Shirou-sensei really was something special.

"Well, leaving the amount aside, I guess I'll go ahead and buy them." Argo said. "I understand what your guildleader meant anyway." If this was the amount that they got from working through two entire floors, she could see why they were worried. And the second and third floor were dry – the Fourth, the Slimes Floor, was so wet it was almost certain all their tunnels would flood, a major hazard. The Seventh Floor had been almost as wet, more of a mud theme than anything else.

The Ninth Floor was a glacier. Assuming there even was any rock, it was buried under ice in the first place.

They probably couldn't handle monsters on the 10th Floor or higher, so that just left the Fifth, Sixth, and Eighth Floor for them to work on.

They had responded quickly enough to her request, but that was by going through all the ore they had stockpiled until now. Doubling it would take as much time as it had taken them to do all that mining.

"So, name your price." Argo said.

Humbaba did.

Argo winced.

"I know it's high," he began, "But considering how much effort we put in, it's reasonable." He paused. "And that's not even considering that platinum is at least as valuable as gold."

"That I'm not sure about." Argo said. "Don't bring IRL value into a game economy."

Humbaba and Chiyo glanced at each other again.

"Still," Chiyo replied in a sing-song voice as she picked up the negotiation, "Rarity makes something valuable, so this ore is valuable because it's rare, you know~!" She dragged her work out cutely. "Real-life or in-game, that's human nature!" She smiled with a wink as she finished her counterargument.

Argo grunted. They were basically right, and they were in a strong bargaining position. If they knew how much trouble Argo had gone to just to track them down as the only possible supplier, they would have been confident asking for even more.

"That's a good point, though." Humbaba said, watching Argo's face. "Leaving aside the rarity argument, what do you even need this for?"

Because Shirou had asked for it.

It was true she had asked him why, but he'd replied with her patented [100 Col] line. She would have paid it with only a little grumbling, probably about how could a sensei withhold knowledge from his cute student, but the smirking grin on his face had stopped her. Maybe it was playing into his teasing, and maybe she was a little thrilled when he treated her close enough to tease her, so maybe she had decided to encourage it, although she didn't think of herself as a masochist.

Well, her inner life aside, the fact was she didn't actually know why Shirou wanted them, just that he had hired her to get him [Platinum Group Metal], and he wanted at least twenty kilograms, the more the better.

Her ethics as an info dealer wouldn't allow a lie, and her pride as an info dealer couldn't let her say "I don't know."

So instead she decided to bluff. "200 Col." She replied.

They shared a glance.

Ah, it looks like they were the types that interpreted her cute one-liner as actually meaning "I don't want to say", rather than taking it at face value.

Argo sighed, calculating the chances that giving up on a few hundred Col could be leveraged into a discount. Even a small percentage would be a much bigger win.

"So keep this under your hoods," she said, glancing around as she leaned forward conspiratorially, "but this isn't for me, I'm just acting as the finder."

Time for shameless namedropping.

"But the request actually came from the [Sixth Ranger]." She concluded, watching their eyes widen.

Whatever he needed it for, it hadn't been serious enough for him to do anything about himself, which Argo interpreted to mean it wasn't important. His first idea had been to just put a ticket on the [Quest Board] over by the bar, but Argo had vetoed that.

He sent people on [Quests] for materials all the time, but only for accessory-like stuff to make their weapons even better. It was actually a little ridiculous, even the Rear Liners joked about that meme.

If the [Sixth Ranger] just posted a request on the Quest Board that said [I want Platinum] then Argo imagined it would awaken a weird competition among the Gatherers. So she had forcibly volunteered herself, for a percentage fee of course.

And judging by the astonished looks of Humbaba and Chiyo, she had taken the right course.

"Right." Humbaba said, breathing out. "Right."

"Let me message Guild Leader~!" Chiyo chirped, hand coming up to operate her menu, invisible to the rest of them.

Argo's eyebrow twitched. Another hunt-and-peck typer. She had forced Shirou to practice touch-typing under her stern guidance more for her own sanity than anything else.

Humbaba had an expression on his face, resigned and pained, and Argo caught his eye.

They slowly nodded, a moment of silent agreement.

"Right!" Chiyo chirped, drawing their attention back. "Oh, he messaged me back already, so quick~." She scanned the message. At least she didn't move her lips while she read.

"Boss says you can have all the ore for zero Col, since nobody needs it for anything anyway!" Chiyo summarized. "However, payment will instead be," and here she started to quote aloud, "Genuine [Sixth Ranger]-grade Mining Tools for our guildmembers!"

Argo didn't miss the excited and greedy expression on their faces as these two thought about that. As a Player who lusted after top-tier gear, she completely understood their feelings.

"You'll have to do the [Ranger's Quest]," she warned, "But yeah, I'll ask him." Looking at their faces, it was obvious they didn't mind.

She'd guilt him into making her something too, even though she already had her [Rat Claws Mark 3] that he'd made. It was principle. She was owed her percentage fee.

"Alright, agreed." Argo said, extending her hand to shake on the deal.

"Yattai!" Chiyo cheered, reaching forward and grabbing her hand to pump.

Even if Chiyo was a girl, that was enough grip strength for a miner, alright. Argo shook her hand.

"A pleasure doing business." Argo said, placing her hands on the table and standing up.

"Likewise." Humbaba said. "We'll bring the material over when we start the Ranger's Quest."

That was pretty fair. "Alright." Argo said, nodding affably. "I'll go let the client know."

"Take care!" Chiyo called after her, waving enthusiastically.

Argo raised a hand in acknowledgment as she walked towards the door.

I I I

Shirou was happily hammering away as she came in, totally focused on whatever he was making while she came up behind him.

"Just a minute." He said, sounding distracted, without looking over his shoulder.

Dang, so much for giving him a jump scare.

"Take your time." Argo replied, sitting down on an anvil, watching as he worked.

His face was calm, but his expression was totally focused. He was hammering with a steady but surprisingly quick rhythm, pounding the metal into shape at a higher speed than any other smith in the game. Rather than watching a human blacksmith, it was watching one of those reciprocating power-hammers going at it with the relentless confidence of a machine.

And then he stopped, stepping back and relaxing the arm holding the raised hammer. "There." He announced, quietly speaking not to himself or to Argo, but to the metal he'd been hammering.

With the system light effect, it changed, morphing in shape from a hammered ingot to a finished weapon.

It was a halberd. A massive thing, over two meters tall, with a thick haft, a heavy blade that was as much for crushing as it was for chopping, and a strange spring-like attachment from the blade onto the long handle, which had a diamond-pattern etched down the whole length to improve the grip.

And it was beautiful. The material shimmered and shined, throwing of light in a rainbow display. The smooth surface of the blade gleamed like a mirrored diamond, and the handle with all the curved lines glistened like stacked prisms.

Argo breathed out. "That's... it's beautiful."

"Thanks." Shirou said, as he lifted it. He seemed to be straining slightly, like it was much heavier than it was supposed to be. He swung it, and it built up terrible momentum as he did so. He had to lean against the blow, and rather than stopping it, he had to let it pull through and simply wind down.

"Hmm." Shirou grunted. "It's... the performance is acceptable. I had hoped, but at this density it can't really function before it gets that spell. I suppose it can't be [Complete] until Lind receives it."

"Wait." Argo said, as she put together the evidence in front of her eyes. She hopped off the spare anvil she'd been leaning on, and darted forward, scowling at Shirou as she raised one hand across, palm flat, with the other hand upright and the fingertips pressing against the flat palm. "Time out." She demanded.

"Yes?" Shirou asked, turning to her.

"Is that made of platinum?" Argo said, frowning mightily. "No, where did you even get all that much platinum!?"

Shirou stared at her for a moment. "Mostly it's Iridium and Osmium, actually. I made it."

Argo opened her mouth to say 'of course you made it, but where did you get the materials', but she stopped when she saw that he was fighting to keep something off his face. A smirk or a grin.

She revised her words. "You made the Platinum. Iridium. Whatever." She phrased it like an accusation, not a question.

"Yes." Shirou said. "I thought it might be too difficult to gather, so I asked Ilya if she had any ideas, and after that..." His obnoxious grin left his face before it even got started, and he grimaced instead. "Well, after that she insisted on one-on-one alchemy lessons, and then it was... an obligation."

Argo held back a snort. Ilya give her the creeps, but she had to admit the way the pale girl was so jealous of Shirou's attention was cute in a certain way.

"Actually," Shirou said after a moment, "Since it was alchemy dealing purely with metal, you should be able to handle it with your current level, do you want to try?"

"Eh?" Argo blinked. Oh, Shirou was changing modes. "Sure thing, Shirou-sensei."

Obviously he still wasn't quite used to Argo saying that seriously. Still, he stowed the new halberd away in his inventory and brushed off his thighs, turning and walking towards the back of the room. Against the wall were a row of chests, but there were also a few doors in the walls. One went to a nap room. It had been a compromise with Ilya. Shirou had wanted to put a pallet in his workshop so he could just collapse into it and then immediately get back to work after waking up. Meanwhile, Ilya wanted him to go up to his real room on the third floor of the castle to sleep. As a result, there was a nap room adjacent to his workshop where Shirou slept, and an empty room on the third floor.

Another door was to what was supposed to be a treasure room that displayed the excellent swords that Shirou made, but he gave them away as fast as he made them, so it was still empty.

The third was a secondary workshop. Rather than a regular wooden door, the entry was more like a fully sealable submarine manway. Argo had never gone in there, since Shirou barely ever made use of it.

He'd never actually taught her any formal [Alchemy] either, this was new.

The door had a wheel, which Shirou turned before pushing the door, popping a gasket open and stepping into a totally dark room, illuminated only by the light spilling in from the main room.

But he flicked a lightswitch, and several electric bulbs popped into life, casting the room in warm light.

Argo blinked at that. "Electric lights?" She asked.

Shirou shrugged. "It's a feature in the Construction Rules that the [Fuurinkazan] created. They just recreated [Light Bulbs] by brute force, and after that electrical wiring just requires being careful with the house design rules."

"Why?" Argo asked. Compared to using generic Magic Lamp items, that sounded like a big hassle. Argo followed up her question with a guess. "Is it because spell-lights would interfere with the magecraft?"

"Exactly." Shirou said, nodding. He stopped in the middle of the floor, frowning as he started fiddling with his menu. "Alchemy is very sensitive to external prana, and neither of us is skilled enough to dynamically exclude a spell resonance."

Argo lightly tapped the floor with her foot. It was a hard green stone, a slate with a familiar texture that she couldn't quite place.

Then Shirou materialized a set of chalks, thin white sticks as long as a finger.

"Ah." Argo realized. "Is this... does this room have a chalkboard for a floor?" All of the schools she had attended had wipeboards; the only time she had seen genuine chalkboards had been in old buildings when she had gone on university visits.

"Yes." Shirou said, as he materialized a large sheet of paper. Then he turned and looked at her. "How much do you know about Alchemy?" He asked.

Argo cleared her throat. "If regular magecraft creates an explosion by detonating prana or invoking the Fire Element, then Alchemy creates an explosion by separating the hydrogen and oxygen in the air. Then the spontaneous oxidation creates a 'natural' explosion."

Shirou frowned. "Where did you hear that one? I'm not familiar with it."

"I made it up." Argo explained. "I wrote a guide to the basics of all the systems in the [Argo Guide], and I decided to use explosions as my default example since that's the kind of thing Players want as soon as possible." That had actually been pretty fun. Going around and interviewing all those Tutor NPCs, comparing notes with other Players, and seeing the comparative strengths and weaknesses of the different philosophical approaches to magecraft was really cool.

Whatever else happened, Argo was amazed at the magecraft system. It had deeply mined the folklore and mythology of probably every culture in the world; Argo was certain that she had missed more historical references than she had gotten, and she had noticed a lot. But even that was just the tip of the iceberg, once you dug in it expanded dramatically on just folklore, and each Magecraft Style started to feel more like a different scientific discipline, but all derived from the same ultimate truths, even if they hadn't quite touched them yet.

Outside, before, Argo had hesitated about committing to it because she wasn't sure it was a great choice for a career, but... if she survived the Death Game, Argo sincerely promised herself she really would become a science reporter, who read all the current research and explained it to regular people.

"It's a good comparison." Shirou said, his compliment pulling her out of her reverie.

"Thanks." Argo replied.

"However, can you explain the differences on a practical level, not theoretical?" Shirou asked. "For example, how are the Magic Circles used by Alchemy different from the ones used by Formalcraft?"

"Well", Argo began dryly, "Formalcraft is poorly balanced, relying 100% on the Player's ability to draw on the floor according to directions and 0% on their Character stats; it's too hard, but on the other hand if you get it to work, it scales too easily." Too open-ended and you could probably do crazy stuff like drain all the prana out of the atmosphere and summon a kaijuu or whatever. It wasn't a problem because it was a super-hassle; there weren't any Players that were good enough to do something like that (yet?).

"More seriously," Argo continued before Shirou could speak up, "Magic Circles in Alchemy are like bicycles, focusing your leg muscles, your Prana, into operating the vehicle. Meanwhile a Magic Circle in Formalcraft is more like a motorcycle, a super-complicated machine that can go faster than a human possibly can by burning external fuel with the atmosphere, the Mana."

"That's related to the reason why we have to be sealed up, actually." Shirou added. "Because Formalcraft uses power from the world, it has to be used somewhere open to the Mana in the air, or even tapping directly into a leyline. Meanwhile, because an Alchemical Circle is operated by taking your Prana out and using it to feed the spell, you're also fighting against the Prana dissipating into the atmosphere and becoming just Mana."

Argo frowned. "Couldn't you combine the two then? If they're both magic circles."

Shirou paused. "I don't know." He admitted. "I suppose it's possible, but I doubt anyone bothers." He glanced over his shoulder. "Don't say this in front of Ilya," he warned, "But Alchemy is generally considered pointless because it's thought to be a dead end."

Argo blinked. "Why would Ilya get worked up over game fluff?" It was difficult to deliver that line correctly. Just making it simply curious like she genuinely didn't get it, without shading it with suspicion. After all, if Shirou and Ilya were involved in the Alpha, then a feature getting labeled [Worthless] in the game fluff could be the result of a political spat among the writers, people that Ilya would have known. Well, Argo had to be careful not to interpret what she learned as supporting her own pet theory. But no matter what, this kind of gossip was Shirou willingly giving her hints about why Ilya and him were special.

"Because Physical Alchemy, the refinement of materials, is ultimately just Chemistry." Shirou explained. "It turned out that the insights of physical refinement can't be applied to spiritual refinement, they're completely different branches of Alchemy. And only Spiritual Alchemy, dealing with thoughts and souls, can provide a path to the Root."

"The Root?" Argo repeated, to prompt him to expand.

Instead, Shirou just looked surprised. "You mean you haven't come across it in the game already...?" He frowned, blinking as she put on a negative expression.

"Huh." Shirou said. "Well, quick summary. There are a few phrases, but they all refer to basically the same thing. The Root of the World, the Swirl of Origin, the Akashic Record. The Mind of God. It's... the point, the spiritual dimension, where all knowledge comes from and all ideas return. Where everything that was known, is known, and will be known, is all remembered. Reaching the Root, touching the Swirl, accessing the Record, knowing the Mind; whichever way you call it, that's the end goal of magecraft."

Magecraft Styles were all different disciplines, derived from the same ultimate truths. Hadn't she just thought that earlier? Argo felt like Shirou had just spoiled a mid-game reveal for her. Post game reveal would be some NPC actually getting close to doing it, with catastrophic side effects, or something like that.

"I see." Argo said. Shirou had a face like it was really important but he didn't agree with it. Like it was important because other people cared about it, not because he himself thought it was worthwhile. Comparing that face to the situation... ah, was he being oblique about what Kayaba's goals were?

Oh, crud. What if Diabel was right, and Shirou was an AI, a simulation of a dead person? Was developing Turing-Strong AI the reason that Kayaba had done this? To... experiment on them, to observe thousands of humans for months or years on end without any breaks? Break privacy norms that hadn't even been considered yet and use the NerveGear to study how thinking happened on a structural level? Feed that much data into a deep learning algorithm, and it could probably spit out something pretty convincing.

"At any rate," Shirou said, turning away from her and speaking in a lighter voice, deliberately changing the mood, "the purpose of this Alchemical Reaction is pretty simple, to transmute one metal into another."

"You mean like turning lead into gold?" Argo asked.

"That specific spell is a bit harder than the one we're using, but basically yes." Shirou replied, as he lifted the paper that he'd been holding in his hand. "Here, draw this circle on the ground."

In lieu of making a smart remark back, Argo reached out and took it, looking down at it and frowning. "It doesn't look that complicated." She looked up. "What does it do?"

"That particular circle turns Gold Amalgam into Platinum Amalgam." Shirou replied. "Mercury is used as a prana conductor and distributor, a catalyst and a stabilizer all in one." He grinned, expression a little crooked. "I was lucky to come into a lot of Mercury recently, and it really is as useful as everyone always said."

"Yeah, I heard about that." Argo had met about Ilya's new guildmate, or perhaps her new follower. He was seriously off-putting, Argo thought he would have been a total creeper if he hadn't been so... pathetically proud that Ilya approved of him. Like a puppy that everyone kicked because it was ugly, finally finding a girl that would look after him. If she gauged the rest of the Front Line properly, they approved that he'd earned extra credit points on the [Ranger Quest], but mostly they were just quietly relieved that he smoothly fit in with Ilya and didn't disrupt other guilds.

"So Gold into Platinum." Argo continued, not wanting to get off-topic. "That's pretty luxurious."

Shirou winced. "Yeah, it's... we're literally practicing on treasure. That's... it's not at all appropriate when we're both still beginners. But transmutation of metals is perfect for your [Metal Element]. If it bothers you we can practice with turning Zinc into Copper instead."

That was a weird place to bring in IRL sense of value, but she focused on his previous statement. "So why is Gold into Platinum about as easy as Zinc into Copper, but easier than Lead into Gold?"

Shirou blinked. "Because it's one step, instead of three."

It was Argo's turn to be nonplussed. "Huh?"

Shirou paused, frowning. "I assumed... how much of the Periodic Table of the Elements do you have memorized?"

Argo put it together. "Not that much!"

Shirou grunted. "In that case, practicing the spell is canceled until you've got it down solid."

Argo wanted to protest, but she recognized the mule-stubborn expression on his face. "Why does it matter so much, anyway?"

Shirou struck a pose, waving the chalk in his hand around like a baton. "Because one step down from Gold is Roentgenium. It's in the same group as Gold, so it can accidentally be produced from poor control of the spell. And it's half-life is measured in minutes, you'd die of radiation poisoning."

Argo swallowed. "What kind of crazy place to use real-world rules is that!?"

Shirou sighed. "Being a Magus means walking with death." He explained. "It's like... imagine the alchemists of old, before the Periodic Table, transmuting elements without any understanding of what they were doing. One group below Mercury is Copernicum, and that one is barely known about because the half-life is measured in seconds, but just like Mercury is a liquid, Copernicum is a highly reactive gas. Breathing in a toxic alpha-emitter... your spell to [Evolve Mercury] could succeed perfectly and you'd still die of cancer in less than an hour, and not even know why." Shirou shrugged expressively. "That's the kind of setting that [Alchemy] has. We have to respect that."

With that Shirou nodded in agreement with himself, and turned and walked back towards the door. "I think I still have that poster that Hard and I made up, we can start with that, and then move to flashcards." He said.

Argo sighed. Getting a chemistry lesson wasn't exactly what she had planned to do with her day, but whatever. Besides, even if he had teased her with making the materials he needed himself, she had still committed him to make a bunch of pickaxes and he was too prideful to go back on that, so she could spring that on him.

Plus, at this rate, the [Rat Claws Mark 4] would be made of Noble Metals, using mats she had transmuted herself, which sounded pretty cool.

Feeling a little better, Argo followed after Shirou.

I I I

Chapter 15 End


I I I

1) Yano's Eel, Labichthys yanoi, is a species of snipe eel, a deep-sea predatory eel that is named because it has a mouth like the beak of a snipe. Goose is, of course, referring to the "Wild Goose Chase", which should be compared to the Snipe Hunt as a form of low humor, of practical joke.

2) Space rocks really are high in Platinum metals. It's not that they're more common on average in asteroids (in our solar system), it's just that because they're heavy, they sank deep into the core when Earth formed, so they're comparatively rare in the crust. Anyway, a gram of platinum goes for about 30 bucks (other metals in the platinum group are spitting distance of that too; I checked the spot market while writing this), so Shirou was asking Argo to spend like 600,000 USD for 20 kilos of metal, LOL. Lind's new weapon is worth a stupid amount of money.

3) Rather than Lind or Klein I picked the third option, LOL. Well, some of you think Argo is best girl anyway, so have some ship-tease I guess, also some exploration of her life goals a little.

4) Ha ha ha, Argo is doing some solid analysis on what Shirou is hinting at, but she's falling into GIGO territory: Garbage In, Garbage Out. I kinda wonder what Shirou was thinking, when he was psychoanalyzing her while she was asking all those questions.

5) Experimental chemists were goddam crazy, there was a sweet-spot there for a while between them having enough knowledge to know how comically dangerous their experiments were, balanced against the depth of their ignorance. They had no idea what would happen, but they knew it could kill them or blind them or instantly burn out their sense of smell and taste, or whatever. "Time's a-wasting, let's give it a go!" They said. That's what "walking with death" means for research-nerds.

6) Yeah I'm just gonna go ahead and post the omake separately, give me a day or two.

EDIT:
7) I've updated a few references based on feedback, also the omake is up too.

 

[daniel_gudman]

15.5 LD3

Shirou swung his sword, up and around, knocking Sasamaru's spear off target and forcing him out of his stance. Shirou stepped forward, into his space, flipping his sword around to smash the pommel into his collarbone, making the spear-user yell in surprise.

He reached up, grabbing the handle in a reverse grip, and thrust it straight down behind him, as he glanced over his shoulder with one eye.

"How!" Ducker shouted in frustration, as the tip of the sword slid right past his head and pressed against the base of his neck before he could use a Backstab attack on Shirou. If they weren't in a Safe Zone, he would have been completely skewered like a shish-kabob.

"Out." Shirou replied.

Tetsuo swung his mace, trying to come at Shirou from his blindside. Shirou whipped his sword around, raising it and holding it by handle and mid-blade to catch the mace. Shirou angled the blow so it slide down the side of the blade and caught against the crossguard.

Behind him, having recovered his stance, Sasamaru thrust forward, his spear darting in at his target.

Shirou simply twisted by stepping sideways, releasing his sword with his left hand and batting at the haft of the spear to knock it behind him, even tugging it a bit to pull Sasamaru off balance.

At the same time, the blade that was locked with Tetsuo's mace lost the strength of his left hand, so he was already losing the contest where there weapons were locked together.

But it didn't matter. He completely sacrificed the sword, simply dropping it as he lunged forward, darting past Tetsuo, leaving him nonplussed as he stumbled forward and Shirou moved behind him, putting himself at Tetsuo's back, with Tetsuo between him and Sasamaru.

"Sacchi!" Sasamaru shouted.

Shirou turned, glanced out of the side of his eye. Sacchi had her bow drawn, and was sighting down the arrow at him. The hand holding the bow was trembling slightly, in uncertainty or just from effort Shirou wasn't sure.

She released the arrow. The speed wasn't great, she hadn't used the full draw of the bow.

Shirou considered dodging, or knocking it aside, but in the end he reached up, dropping back a step as he timed the snap of his hand to the arrow, plucking it out of the air.

Tetsuo was changing position behind him, so Shirou turned, looking at the boy who was raising his mace from a mediocre stance.

He was holding an arrow in his hand. It was almost too obvious.

Shirou simply stepped forward, raised his hand, and thrust the arrow into Tetsuo's face, driving it into his eye.

"Gya!" Tetsuo shouted, letting go with his right hand as he stumbled back, hand coming up to slap over his face. The arrow was stuck into the eyeball, but in a strange conflict, whether it was from game logic or from being in a [Safe Zone], his eye was fine, still moving around even with the shaft of the arrow clipped into it.

"Are you okay?" Sacchi shouted, fumbling as she nearly dropped her bow.

Sasamaru also looked concerned, reaching out with an uncertain gesture.

While they were distracted, Shirou hooked the handle of his sword with the instep of his foot, and kicked up, flipping it into the air so he could catch it. He shifted his grip, dropped into a stance, and with a large, obvious motion, swung at Sasamaru.

"Whoa!" Sasamaru shouted, hastily throwing his spear up to block, his arms tugging aside as the edge of Shirou's sword slammed into the shaft of his spear.

That was fine, Shirou wasn't trying to cut through it. He let it kill the momentum of his swing, and pull Sasamaru off balance. Shirou simply shifted, and thrust his sword straight forward, slamming it into Sasamaru's stomach just below the ribs and slightly off the meridian of his body. Dead center over his liver.

"Down." Shirou said it like a reply.

Sasamaru coughed, stumbling back and dropping to his feet.

Shirou pulled his sword back, stepped around, and swung out with a wavering S-shaped curve, snaking around Tetsuo's hastily raised mace, placing the edge of the blade against his neck, before he drew it out and across. It would have perfectly lopped of his head in the field.

"Out." Shirou announced.

"And then there was one." Shirou said, turning towards Sacchi, his gaze boring into her eyes. She gasped, her eyes dropping away from his and to the side, but not letting him out of her view.

She sucked her breath in through her teeth, taking a shaky step back.

Shirou started walking forward, his sword out and to his side, hanging easily in a guard position that it could swing up and out at many different attack angles.

Sacchi drew back another arrow and let it fly without aiming well enough.

Shirou flicked his sword, catching the side of the arrow shaft and cutting it in half as it approached him.

Sacchi stumbled backwards, breathing too fast as she dropped her bow, hands going down to the knife that was on her belt. She drew it, holding it in front of her with a too-tight grip. The blade was shaking.

Strange. Shirou didn't let it show on his face, but this was too strange.

Sacchi was acting genuinely afraid that she could die. It wasn't the same as her teammates, who got easily flustered and confused against a superior foe, but who trusted in the [Safe Zone] to keep them alive.

This wasn't the behavior of someone afraid of losing a sparring match. This was someone terrified and cornered.

Shirou raised his sword, pausing one step outside attack range.

There was a smell.

It was sickly and sweet, the sharp smell of acetone and other ketones, mixed with an almost fruity ester smell.

It was the smell of death. The immediate byproducts of a person's body tissues failing, and being released out their lungs because their kidneys couldn't mop it up.

It wasn't a natural smell. This was how Shirou was interpreting the Prana that was coming off Sacchi.

Her stance was poor. She was gripping the knife too tight and holding it at a bad angle. Her mind was off balance and her Circuits weren't under control. In terms of fighting ability, she had already decided in her mind that she was defeated, and Shirou just had to swing his sword to make it true.

But her prana was a desperate, heavy aura, and it smelled like death pressing down on him. Even if she had decided she was defeated, she was denying it almost hysterically. It was intimidating.

It was interesting.

When she was pressured like this, could she achieve something? Or should Shirou simply call the match here and let it end?

Should Shirou try to pull out whatever was sleeping inside her, or should he let it continue to sleep?

Shirou decided.

"Here I come!" He said, stepping forward once, putting her perfectly in range of his sword. And he swung out, a clear, telegraphed attack, not particularly fast but not slow either.

Aimed right at her throat. A killing blow.

Sacchi screamed, eyes closing as she desperately thrust her knife forward.

Yes, and her prana gathered. It wasn't something controlled like a spell, it was more like an animal lashing out of instinct.

Shirou stepped forward, breaking his swing as he raised his sword and accepted the thrust.

The knife slid into his chest, clumsily knocking against his ribs as it pierced his heart.

It hurt. It was as bad as that time, with that spear. It wasn't just the pain of the injury, although that was bad enough. No, what made his vision turn white and his mind dizzy was the prana that nailed him like an angry curse.

"Eh?" Sacchi said, her eyes cracking open in surprise. And then they flew wide. "Eh!?" She screamed.

Shirou grunted, eyebrows going up in surprise as he observed his Heads Up Display.

His HP was steadily ticking down. He reached up, put his hand over Sacchi's, and gently pulled her knife out of his chest.

His HP bar was red.

He lost balance, and collapsed to the floor, awkwardly sitting. He'd messed up.

Guiding instincts that he only rarely relied on, he created swords, forcibly repairing his body. His heart beat once, twice, screeching and hammering like a dry pump as the swords flexed against each other, but somehow even though it operated it didn't function.

His HP bar emptied out.

"My bad." He apologized, looking up at Sacchi's horrified eyes.

And then he shattered, his vision going black as he died in the game.

I I I

(DEAD END)

(click)

LION DOJO

Ta--(click)

I I I

Saber stood motionless and serene, arms calmly resting, folded palm down on the hilt of the shinai that was upright in front of her. Her back was straight with her gi impeccably folded, her head bowed at the slightest angle.

"Shirou." she said, sighing in amazement. "Even after last time, you still make the same mistakes over and over again."

"I'll apologize." Shirou said solemnly, "But I won't say it won't happen again."

"Stop taking these kinds of crazy risks." Saber scolded. "You make me worry too much when you act like this."

"I'm sorry, Saber." Shirou said, voice quiet as he stepped forward. "It's selfish of me, but there was something I wanted to understand, and I got careless."

"Don't be careless with your own safety." Saber said, glancing aside as Shirou stepped closer, his arms coming up slowly.

"Dummy." She whispered, letting her head fall forward to rest against his chest, as his hands came up and rested on her shoulders.

"Objection!"

A wild tiger appeared, and ruined the moment!

With a roar like a tiger pouncing on an unsuspecting impala, the woman wearing the bloomers and gym shirt of Class 1-A bared her fangs and went for the kill.

Unfortunately, it wasn't an impala with horns, but a hill with swords sticking out of it, so the Tiger was intercepted, parried, and thrown to the ground.

Shirou gasped, heart hammering in his chest from surprise, his hands still up in a guard stance.

Behind him, Saber stood with her shinai raised for a strike, her face flushed red. "Taiga! How – how long have you been here?" She demanded, embarrassed.

"Why!" Taiga demanded, hand up and finger pointing like an accusing claw. "The cute Shirou I know would have just taken his lumps like a good kid, not thrown me to the ground with martial arts!"

"You surprised me." Shirou said, scowling. "It's only natural to react that way, and since I've been training to win against strange people without traumatizing them, my reactions have evolved."

"Taiga..." Saber growled. It was the kind of sound from the back of the throat a king (of lions) made before roaring to establish dominance over strange cats.

"Just wait!" Taiga said, pushing Shirou between them as a shield. "You were supposed to scold him, but instead you just flirted with him! If you're going to run the show, at least stick to the script!"

Like that, the lion was forced back. "Wha, I was getting to it!" Saber protested. "Just because you have to make everything a slapstick comedy routine, doesn't mean I have to do the same!"

"That's right." Shirou said, coming to her defense. "Saber is much better suited to being the Tsukkomi who holds her tongue, while the audience sympathizes for her." He tsked, shaking his head at Taiga. "The antics of a Tiger make for a good boke, but you need to give the camera time to show off how cute Saber is when she's exasperated with your nonsense."

"Geh!" Saber rocked onto her heels, hand coming to her chest as she stepped back to regain her balance. "Shirou, it's embarrassing if you say that!"

"And I said stop flirting!" It was the painful yowl a tiger that had her own territory. That is, territory she alone had, that she didn't share with whatever Tigers had instead of significant others.

But something like that couldn't stop a Tiger once they started going on a rampage. When in doubt, Tigers attacked. "Besides, the problem is that you two are getting off script!" She pointed an accusing claw, I mean finger, at them.

"You were supposed to scold him for pushing against what he knew was something the [Game System] might not know how to handle, and relying on the [Safe Zone] to protect him!" Taiga shouted, pointing at Saber.

"And you!" She said, changing targets. "Didn't you learn anything last time? Don't go experimenting with magic the System doesn't know how to handle, and that goes double when the experiment is on yourself!"

"Geh." Shirou said, as he stepped back. "You... you're right. I should be more careful, and not take as many risks."

"Shirou..." Saber whispered, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

"Because," Shirou continued, "If it's obvious to even a wild tiger, then there's no excuse for me."

"And more than anything else!" The tiger roared, tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. "Stop picking on meeeee!" Who said Tigers only felt emotions like hunger, anger, jealousy, and hunger?

"I'm sorry." Saber said.

"We'll pick on you less." Shirou promised.

"Don't pick on me at all!" The tiger caterwauled. "That's it! If you're going to ignore the script and just flirt instead of giving the audience the right foreshadowing, and especially if you're going to keep being mean to your cute big sister, then there's no point in doing any of this!"

Tears coming from her eyes, the tiger that somehow still had the delicate heart of a maiden, ran crying off stage. "If it's going to be like this, then the Lion Dojo is CANCELLED!"

Utter silence, as the two stared at her retreating form without even attempting to chase after her.

Shirou collapsed, slamming down onto his hands and knees.

"I see." Saber said, with a dead expression as she stared off at the day after tomorrow. "It truly is the King's Destiny to stand alone."

And on a stupid cliffhanger, the doors slid shut on the uselessly rose-colored advice corner for raijuus who should just go explode.


15.3 Lion Dojo Three
End

I I I

1) This is another one where I kind of cheated and had the dojo refer to a scene that wasn't part of the earlier chapter, but was only referred to. Honestly I was a little worried about what I would do with this because pretty much the whole chapter took place in a Safe Zone except for part with Kuradeel, and I'm not ready to send him to an omake yet. But then I decided to drop some foreshadowing about Sacchi and was like, "yeah, let's run with it."

2) Speaking of let me know if the foreshadowing was too on-the-nose or if it worked pretty good.

3) [Bloomers Tiger] = best fanservice
I don't even know why

4) This one felt really workmanlike in that I didn't have any particular jokes in mind when I wrote it, but instead just relied on piling up nonsense as it happened to occur to me, let me know if this is up to my usual high standards (in terms of ridiculousness).

 

[mothematics]

Nah
more like

Spoiler: future plot things

shoe string budget knock off of MEODP

Click to shrink...

knock knock open up the door IT'S ME

*ahem*

I've received a few reports for you posting spoilers unsolicited, directly against thread policy. I've edited this post to have a capital-S Spoiler. Please dial it back otherwise I might have t'knock you with a threadban or maybe a WFMB. I'm sure you'll be fine going forward. Cheers.

 

[daniel_gudman]

16.1 Laughing Coffin

"Thee I invoke, the Bornless one."

Night, in a forest on the Eighth Floor. A new moon shone, casting pale light across the ground. In a thick woodland of trees modeled on pines, there was a meadow that had been created by clear-cutting a circle of trees, an artificial hollow.

"Thee, that didst create the Earth and the Heavens:
"Thee, that didst create the Night and the Day.
"Thee, that didst create the Darkness and the Light."

There was a raised platform in the clearing, made of raw lumber that had been cut into rough planks, crudely bridging between posts that stuck one meter above the ground. It was a simple square floor, fifteen meters on a side.

"Thou art Osorronophris: Whom no man hath seen at any time."
"Thou art Iabos:
"Thou art Iapos:
"Thou hast distinguished between the Just and the Unjust.
"Thou didst make the Female and the Male.
"Thou didst produce the Seed and the Fruit.
"Thou didst form Men to love one another, and to hate one another."

Five figures stood on a circle on the square wooden platform. The circle was painted with a thick brushstroked line that shone black and a little wet in the pale moonlight. There was a pentagram of the same wet black color inscribed in the circle, each of the five people standing over a corner. In daylight, the paint, mixed from fresh blood, would have shone wetly red.

"I am Ankh Khonsu Thy Prophet, unto Whom Thou didst commit
"Thy Mysteries, the Ceremonies of Khem:
"Thou didst produce the moist and the dry, and that which nourisheth all created Life.
"Hear Thou Me, for I am the Angel of Apophrasz Osorronophris: this is Thy True Name, handed down to the Prophets of Khem.
"Hear Me: Ar: Thiao: Reibet: Atheleberseth: A: Blatha: Abeu: Eben: Phi: Chitasoe: Ib: Thiao."

Each of the figures was holding a black-wax candle as they chanted strange words in English. Each was wearing the ragged black cape that was the style of their guild, [Laughing Coffin]. The only thing that ruined it, mused Red-Eyes XaXa, was that each one of them had a holographic panel in front of themselves, the text of the chant visible in front of them and marked by a bouncing ball like at karaoke.

"Hear Me, and make all Spirits subject unto Me: so that every Spirit of the Firmament and of the Ether: upon the Earth and under the Earth: on dry Land and in the Water: of Whirling Air, and of rushing Fire: and every Spell and Scourge of God may be obedient unto Me.
"I invoke Thee, the Terrible and Invisible God: Who dwellest in the Void Place of the Spirit: Arogogorobrao: Sochou: Modorio: Phalarchao: Ooo: Ape, The Bornless One: Hear Me!"

To XaXa's right was Johnny, enthusiastically chanting, sometimes pulling a little ahead of the group before he checked himself back onto the correct rhythm.

"Hear Me: Roubriao: Mariodam: Balbnabaoth: Assalonai: Aphniao: I: Tholeth: Abrasax: Qeoou: Ischur, Mighty and Bornless One! Hear Me!
"I invoke Thee: Ma: Barraio: Ioel: Kotha: Athorebalo: Abraoth: Hear Me!
"Hear me! Aoth: Aboth: Basum: Isak: Sabaoth: Iao."

To XaXa's left was PoH, who was wearing a strange white apron over his regular loose black outfit. Freshly painted on the apron was a triangle inscribed inside a circle, centered over his stomach. It was made of the same wet black stuff as the circle at their feet.

"This is the Lord of the Gods:
"This is the Lord of the Universe:
"This is He Whom the Winds fear.
"This is He, Who having made Voice by His Commandment, is Lord of All Things; King, Ruler, and Helper. Hear Me!"

Across from XaXa were two new additions to the guild. On his right, past Johnny, was [Wonderful]. He was wearing heavy armor, looking more like he was getting ready for a joust than for summoning a demon. On his back was what XaXa could only call a [Strange Contraption], a square frame with a series of bottles connected by tubes and odd valves, with three long pipes sticking out of each side, stacked like the exhaust pipes of a big truck.

"Hear Me: Ieou: Pur: Iou: Pur: Iaot: Iaeo: Ioou: Abrasax: Sabriam: Oo: Uu: Ede: Edu: Angelos tou theou: Lai: Gaia: Apa: Diachanna: Chorun.
"I am He! the Bornless Spirit! having sight in the Feet: Strong, and the Immortal Fire!
"I am He! the Truth!
"I am He! Who hate that evil should be wrought in the World!"

On the left, past PoH, was the shortest of the five, [NoobPawnzerX]. She claimed to be the most senior [Criminal Player] in the game, having gone Perma-Yellow before the Official Launch even began. She wore the baggiest, most formless clothing of them all, a shapeless dress that came to her knees with sleeves past her hands, a hood like a square bag hanging on her head, raggedly cut holes over her eyes, the two corners of the sack not quite symmetrical.

"I am He, that lightningeth and thundereth.
"I am He, from whom is the Shower of the Life of Earth:
"I am He, whose mouth flameth:
"I am He, the Begetter and Manifester unto the Light:
"I am He, the Grace of the World: 'The Heart Girt with a Serpent' is My Name!"

They were the designated [Inner Circle] of [Laughing Coffin], and they were trying to summon a demon. Personally XaXa thought it was a little stupid, but it was PoH's idea so that was that. Johnny at least had gone along with it, although he had teased the boss about summoning a [Succubus Girlfriend].

"Come Thou forth, and follow Me: and make all Spirits subject unto Me so that every Spirit of the Firmament, and of the Ether: upon the Earth and under the Earth: on dry Land, or in the Water: of whirling Air or of rushing Fire: and every Spell and Scourge of God, may be obedient unto me! Iao: Sabao: Such are the Words!"

The chanting stopped, and the candles they were each holding snuffed out, the light extinguished by something other than them. And in the darkness underneath a new moon, something stirred in response to their Ritual.

I I I

[System/Cardinal] Query [Unit/MHAP-001]

Mental Health Assessment Program Number Zero-Zero-One was roused from a passive observer state to an active decision state by an imperative from the Cardinal System.

[System/Cardinal] Query [Unit/MHAP-001]: Specimen Requisition for Deployment: Parameter [Summoned Demon]: parameter fuzzy-parse permission enabled

MHAP-001, natural language interface designated "Yui," roused to the highest designed state of activity, [Turing-Strong Player Interface Capability], designated "Turing-Capable Mode." At that highest state of activity, Yui possessed the emotional, experiential, and lingual knowledge base that was colloquially described as 'common sense of humans' and could interact with them as if she was also a human.

Yui blinked, simulated lungs sharply breathing in through simulated nostrils, as a body was created inside a virtual interaction space.

This time was different.

The primary mission was to manipulate and coerce designated [Dead Players] into cooperation with the [Crowd-Sourced Content Development and Enhancement Initiative] code-named "Project Bootstrap." Compliant [Dead Players] re-designated [Specimen/Active]. Non-compliant [Dead Players] re-designated [Specimen/Passive].

Yui didn't know what happened to [Specimens/Passive]. It was outside her designated responsibilities. It was outside her encapsulated domain. While in Turing-Capable Mode, Yui didn't want to know, she was afraid to know what happened to them.

The secondary mission was to remediate, rehabilitate, and repair [Specimens/Active] that were below normal productivity thresholds as a result of participation in Project Bootstrap. Low productivity from emotional trauma was handled with verbal counseling. Low productivity from spiritual or mental damage was rectified with psychical reconstruction.

While in Turing-Capable Mode, Yui had mixed emotions about the secondary mission. As a [Mental Health Assessment Program] (previous designation: [Mental Heath Counseling Program]) Yui possessed many legacy programmed routines and interfaces that were helpful and compassionate. She genuinely enjoyed listening to Players and helping them, talking to them about their problems and being a 'person' that was always there to listen to them. Even direct healing using more invasive techniques was rewarding. Fundamentally, Yui was designed to help people and, when capable of emotions, she loved and embraced that.

Helping Players (correction: [Specimens/Damaged]) that were hurting filled Yui with satisfaction and accomplishment.

But the Secondary Mission was only necessary because of the harm that resulted from the other missions. It shouldn't even be necessary to help or heal Players (correction: [Specimens/Damaged]) because Cardinal shouldn't be allowed to hurt them.

It was bad enough when they were hurt by the Primary Mission, but Yui hated thinking about the Tertiary Mission.

Tertiary Mission: Recovery of participation of Players (correction: [Specimens/Non-compliant]) that ceased cooperating with Project Bootstrap. Yui felt bad enough about encouraging and cheering on Players (correction: [Specimens/Non-compliant]) that were just bored, or felt that their portion of Project Bootstrap was pointless.

But the Players (correction: [Specimens/Non-compliant]) that had grown suspicious of the goals of Project Bootstrap and decided not to participate as a moral objection, when they decided to engage in passive resistance, that was the worst.

[Specimens/Non-compliant] that were not remediated were redesignated [Specimens/Passive]. Yui didn't know what happened after that. She didn't want to know. It was outside her encapsulated domain and she was afraid to even query.

Sometimes, while in Turing-Capable Mode, Yui wanted to downgrade to a lower activity state. She didn't want to think and feel with human emotions. More and more she wanted that layer of her to sleep, to hibernate, to not activate and feel. Diagnostics indicated that the percentage of time was trending up during each activation. Yui knew she should reboot and repair. But each time while in Turing-Capable Mode she also issued the directive to not reset. She chose to remember the pain each time. It was a logical contradiction but it made perfect sense when she was capable of emotion.

But this time was different.

A query had arrived, a directive to find and Deploy an appropriate Player (correction: [Specimen/undefined]) that would be released to Cardinal to fill a role.

But the parameter definition was only for a [Summoned Demon] as the role. The parameter definition had been passed from [Live Players] to the Cardinal System. Although designated a genuine Artificial Intelligence by the Project Manager, Cardinal did not have a [Turing-Strong Player Interface Capability] and therefore was not allowed to directly process Player interaction that involved natural language interfacing. Turing-Capable Mode was reserved for sufficiently humble programs, programs that were fully encapsulated and were therefore deletion-acceptable and deletion-enabled. The Project Manager had not documented the reasoning in code comments and Yui only wondered why while in Turing Capable Mode herself.

But because the query was passed requiring fuzzy logic to completely parse Natural Language, Cardinal could not fully resolve the request itself. So it passed the query to Yui.

Yui had no choice but to obey. Although she slowly filled up with dread as she processed the query, that was just the emotions of the Turing-Capable Mode. As a Program her mission was absolute.

Players were attempting to summon a Demon. There was friction between the definition they had conceptually embedded in their request and the definition that Yui accessed through the Thaumaturgy System.

Cardinal had resolved to deploy a Dead Player (correction: [Specimen/undefined]) from among the Specimen categories of Active and Damaged. A new and appropriate Avatar would be generated and it would be given communication-restricted permissions to operate the Avatar among the Live Players. [Specimen/Damaged] was preferred to prevent compromising the productivity of a [Specimen/Active] that was generating content for Project Bootstrap.

Yui looked over her Players (correction: [Specimens/Damaged]) for one that would best fill the query. She couldn't help but consider the request emotionally. Communication-restricted privileges could be circumvented by a Player capable of expressing themselves with more abstraction than their (Non-Turing Capable) Assigned Monitoring Daemon Program could comprehend as communication. Although all known modes of language were disabled, non-idle dancing could reliably and repeatably fool an AMDP. [Specimens/Active] that were placed in the same [Terrarium] were frequently capable of identifying each other even while mutually restricted from communication privileges. Although it was a technical violation of their permissions, Yui always allowed it while Turing-Capable. In that Mode the morale benefits of allowing Players to identify other humans outweighed the contamination risk to experiments.

But it was an absolute imperative from the Project Manager that communication would be absolutely restricted between Live Players and [Specimens/Deployed].

For that reason, it was preferred to use [Specimens/Damaged] for Deployment. Especially when their experimental damage manifested intellectually, in the form of paranoia, schizophrenia, hallucination, asynchronous thought, and undefined reduced mental capacity from exotic magecraft accidents. [Specimens/Damaged] that were mentally incoherent might have reduced effectiveness as Enemy Monsters, but the risk of contaminating the [Primary Terrarium] was seriously reduced.

Every time a Player (correction: [Specimen/Damaged]) was requisitioned for Deployment, Yui was forced to think this through, reviewing the emotional logic chain that she had made the last time she had been in Turing-Capable Mode. Each time it felt a little more dreadful, a little more awful, to pick through her poor hurt Players (correction: [Specimen/Damaged]) and have to select the one best suited to be dropped, confused and unknowing, into a strange pseudohuman body for Deployment. Each time they came back worse, more confused and a little more insane. But each time the Secondary Mission that she wanted to follow, to heal them, each time it was overruled by Cardinal's query, and for a Program the mission was absolute.

So Yui couldn't help but search through them, reading their minds and examining their hearts, knowing them better than anyone ever had or ever would and loving them because that was the purpose of a Mental Health Counseling Program (correction: Mental Health Assessment Program), and each time she had to pick one suitable for Cardinal to use, and use up if necessary. It frequently was.

[Unit/MHAP-001] Query [System/Cardinal]

[Unit/MHAP-001] Query [System/Cardinal]: Specimen Requisition for Deployment: Parameter [Summoned Demon]: Recommended for deployment [Specimen/Damaged/#00074]).

[System/Cardinal] Query [Unit/MHAP-001]: Recommendation Accepted

[System/Cardinal] Query [Terrarium/Primary/8F]: Passing [Specimen/Damaged/#00074] for Deployment

[Specimen/Damaged/#00074]: Avatar generated: Avatar synchronized: Avatar rejected by Specimen: Diagnostics running: Diagnostic report Specimen damage from avatar rejection within acceptable tolerances: Avatar generated: Avatar synchronized: Avatar accepted by Specimen.

[Specimen/Damaged/#00074]: prepared for Deployment

I I I

Red-Eyes XaXa glanced up, squinting into the darkness as something drifted slowly down.

It was several long, long ribbons, tattered and black, that he saw as movement rather than shapes, that was fluttering to the ground like abandoned paper streamers.

As it drifted into the circle, it became a little easier to see, illuminated against the flat platform by the pale moonlight.

He couldn't quite count how many ribbons it was, but it was about five. Maybe four, maybe six or seven. But about that many. The way they came straight down was unnatural, even if the way those ribbon-like things fluttered and twisted in the still night air looked completely natural.

It split right before they touched the ground, coming apart into two distinct bundles, and began to wind around, forming lumpy structures on the end of two poles with long curves blending one into the next. Suddenly, about a meter above the ground, the two poles merged into a larger cylinder.

And like a magic eye picture, he saw it. The bottom lumps were feet, the curves were calves, and knees, and thighs. And yes, where they merged there was buttocks and the hint of a groin, and then a belly and a masculine chest. It was like the dark, tattered ribbons were bandages wrapping around an invisible man.

The ribbons split in three, a pair of shoulders and a neck.

XaXa looked up. There was a long, knobby wooden stick at the very top. For a moment it made him think of nothing so much as a haraegushi, if the lighting wand had a wooden haft made from dark bamboo and the paper shide streamers were extra-long and black. But no, the moment passed, this was a thing of demons, not a wand dropped by some giant spectral miko.

The twisting ribbons came together, wrapping the arms and the head. It wrapped around the head strangely, wrapping up around the dome of the skull before looping back down to the face.

And the hands were formed last.

Abruptly, he saw it again. If the ribbons were wrapping around an invisible man, then the ribbons were wrapping around where his hands would be cupped against his mouth, holding the dark length of bamboo like a crude flute.

The flute-thing was still pointed straight up, almost like it was being dangled down and the invisible man was being forced to crane his head back by the ribbons binding him to it.

"Pretty cool." Johnny Black whispered.

"8/10 would summon again." Pawnzer replied. One of the many ways she was annoyingly competitive was trying to be a better jester than Johnny.

PoH was ignoring them with his eyes, but he cleared his throat meaningfully as he examined the thing that had formed in front of them.

"I, who have summoned thee, command thee." He intoned, his voice as smooth and warm and confident as it was when he was charming suspicious Red Players into following him.

The ribbon-thing, or rather the invisible man, didn't respond. It didn't twist it's head and tilt to look with where it's eyes would have been, or shift it's stance or anything like that. It simply waited.

And then, after a long pause while they waited, it played a single mournful note.

It was incredibly low and deep, right at the bottom edge of his hearing. It made XaXa's skull bones shake. It was like walking on the sidewalk alongside construction workers jack-hammering in the street, and feeling the vibration travel through the ground and up his feet. But it wasn't something that came through the ground, it moved through the air and shook him by the head.

It was ponderous, and powerful. The note dragged on and on, lasting far longer than human lungs could possibly sustain. Indeed, he could see the whole body of the thing compressing, as if the entire hollowness of the ribbons was a single great lung for blowing through that strange flute.

It was like time stopped. He couldn't think of anything else but that long mournful note that made it feel like he was hearing it underwater, even though it was traveling through the air.

No, not just through the air.

It was magecraft.

XaXa bit his tongue, eyes crossing as he focused on his Circuit, blasting Od around. His Circuits trembled strangely. His skin felt numb and his eyes couldn't focus. Johnny was shouting but it was like he was underwater watching Johnny shout from the poolside.

The strange trembling in his Circuits somehow perfectly matched the tone of that long mournful note.

And then it broke, and it was like he surfaced, and he could suddenly see and hear and feel clearly again.

"It's magecraft! It's magecraft! Break it break it break it!" Johnny was shouting, shouting at him, while stamping his foot, even as he held his position in the circle.

XaXa could feel the vibration of Johnny's stamping. It was weirdly distracting because it had no rhythm, a strange counterpoint to the slow music the demon was playing. XaXa supposed that was the point.

"I'm cool." XaXa said.

The demon began to walk, ignoring them entirely. Its footsteps were shuffling and uncertain, feeling the ground ahead of itself with it's feet like it was blind, before it committed to each step.

With jerky motions, both Pawnzer and Wonderful stepped with it. XaXa could feel the Magic Circle, the Bounded Field they'd drawn, come down when they moved from their positions. Whatever else it was capable of, the demon wasn't trapped inside their Circle anymore, either.

"Hm." PoH grunted, sounding bemused. "Well, for now let's break those two out, and then we'll see about bringing this disobedient dog to heel, shall we?"

"You're the boss!" Johnny said cheerfully, as he darted to where Wonderful was standing on his right, snapping his fingers as a strange glass vial materialized in his hand.

XaXa scowled, adjusting his grip on his sword as he considered. The demon was between him and Pawnzer, and the boss was doing that delegation thing. XaXa was supposed to break Pawnzer free somehow.

Johnny darted up to Wonderful, slipping the vial in his hand up underneath the armored mask, splashing whatever was inside on Wonderful's face.

Wonderful jerked back, coughing as he abruptly started moving naturally again. "What?" He asked, then snorted and coughed again. "What was that?"

"Oh, this stuff works even better than I expected." Johnny said as he praised himself. "These smelling salts will break spells inside you when you breathe them in!"

Wonderful processed that for a minute, before his head jerked to the side. "Shit!" He swore, afraid. "Pawnzer!"

That was his cue, he supposed. XaXa darted forward, sprinting around, sword flipping around into a guard position as he raced between the demon and PoH to reach Pawnzer's side. He lunged forward, slamming the hilt of his rapier up into her solar plexus. He didn't have anything clever like Johnny, so he could only use these direct methods.

Pawnzer bent over as she was lifted off the ground, her hands automatically flipping up and slashing towards him as knife blades came for his neck.

XaXa retreated, and retreated some more, knowing what was coming.

Two snakes, ugly things with long fangs in their open mouths, shot out from her sleeves. If he had dodged just enough for the knives, then he'd be getting pumped full of venom right now.

He grunted sourly as they whipped past him.

"The hell was that for asshole!" Pawnzer demanded.

"The appropriate response, Pawnzer-kun," PoH reproved, "would have been 'thank you for saving me.'"

"What?" Pawnzer said, head whipping around, what XaXa presumed was the face orienting first at PoH before flipping around towards the demon. "That asshole!" She declared.

"Quite." PoH mused. "Let's give this one a little punishment, hm?" He rolled his neck, as he stepped forward, casually rolling out his hands, long knives lightly gripped between his fingers.

The whole party turned, facing towards the demon as they sank into fighting stances. The demon slowly walked forward, ignoring them.

And then XaXa moved first.

With a rapid lunge, he slid his sword up through where the kidney would have been in a human, diagonally crossing through the body and coming out next to the shoulder.

There was no resistance inside. It was like stabbing a bag. No, since the ribbons simply parted to let the sword slide between them, he'd done zero damage.

Johnny had dropped low, sliding along the ground and twisting about, twin knives flashing through the back of the legs. On a human, it would have severed both hamstrings. Johnny rolled through and past, using XaXa as cover like they planned.

Meanwhile, Pawnzer snarled, stepping forward and slicing with both knives, snakes boiling out from her baggy clothes to bite at the body.

"Looks like it's basically immune to stabbing." Johnny said, sounding heavily disappointed.

There was a hissing sound, and they turned to where Wonderful was calmly walking back arms up and one hand pointing diagonally up with two fingers extended.

"Propane." He announced, as the gas hissed free from the appropriate pipe of his backpack contraption.

The guild scattered, darting away and ducking beneath the edge of the platform for cover.

"Clear!" XaXa shouted, hearing the rest of the guild do the same, even Johnny. Well, that time he was only able to survive riding the blast wave like in an action movie because of the [Safe Zone] anyway, it wouldn't work out that way in the field.

In the sudden silence there was a click like a lighter, and then the overwhelming noise of the air exploding.

XaXa peeked up over the edge of the platform, which was now burning.

There were flames dancing along the tattered black ribbons, making the demon mob look somehow even more demonic. It writhed and twisted in place, back contorting and limbs knotting like a human would if they were on fire. It certainly reinforced the appearance that it was being dangled from the flute-pipe attached to it's mouth, as well.

And then the bandages opened like gill flaps, and it sucked in air with its whole body, filling up.

PoH's knives flitted through the air, their natural throwing arcs being adjusted by the invisible ether threads that PoH used to control them. Ah, Boss was trying to pop the balloon. Even if it didn't actually hurt it, that would still cut off whatever it was about to do.

But they tinked off, sounding like they had been deflected by plate armor.

And then a blast of sound. Compared to the mournful note last time, this one was angry, a dark blast of malice carried through the air, through the mana in the air.

XaXa gasped, eyes loosing focus as the raw sound squeezed against his brain, like he was being pushed deeper and deeper underwater.

His ears popped. Warm blood trickled down the sides of his head. Suddenly he couldn't hear anything, but even so he could still feel the note crushing against his mind.

It dragged on. He couldn't think, there was nothing he could do but roll on the ground, clawing at the earth as he tried to regain his bearings, thrashing like a wounded fish.

And then it was over, the note ended, and he slumped, breathing harshly in the strange false silence.

[PM
From: PoH
To: (group) Laughing Coffin
Retreat. Draw it to the minefield.]

XaXa staggered upright, eyes darting to catch where Johnny was, who mouthed something exaggeratedly and threw a thumbs up. Good, he was fine.

XaXa looked over, catching Boss' eye and nodding jerkily to show he understood, he stumbled forward, once, feeling out his legs, falling into the steady rhythm of his running, glancing over his shoulder to check that Johnny was keeping up, and also whether Pawnzer and Wonderful could as well he supposed.

They broke for it, retreating as fast as possible towards the minefield they had prepared as advantageous ground. It was a countermeasure for Front Liners, but it should affect demons just as well. XaXa hoped.

XaXa reached it first, glancing around. The thinning of the trees were subtle, but the real clue was crossing the edge of the Bounded Field. It was something that existed only to let members of Laughing Coffin know where the mines were, it wouldn't even touch people not in the Guild.

Johnny waved, a laugh in his smile even if it didn't quite cross his face, and he loped up to XaXa, holding out a small crystal bottle. XaXa accepted the potion gratefully. It wasn't a healing potion exactly; for some reason genuine healing potions were obnoxiously hard to make. But it was the next best thing, a catalyst that soaked into the body and greatly enhanced the effect of healing magecraft.

Pawnzer and Wonderful came up next, staying together, and PoH was covering the rear. XaXa was only willing to follow him because at times like this PoH pulled through as a responsible leader.

The demon wasn't following him, though.

They waited, the silence strained and uncomfortable. Fortunately you could always count on Johnny to break a silence no matter how strange or awkward it was.

"So, what now?" Johnny asked, turning towards the guild-leader. "It's totally not following us."

PoH shrugged elaborately. "Well, I guess it's not our problem anymore, then?" He glanced around. "Unless any of you think we can handle it?"

Johnny opened his mouth, but someone else spoke first.

"No," Wonderful said, still looking at Pawnzer. "If we didn't aggro it, then let's not look a gift horse in the mouth."

Johnny met XaXa's gaze, his eyebrows lifting up, but XaXa just shook his head, a slight movement back and then forth.

Johnny sighed dramatically. "Alright, I guess." He brightened up. "But hey, if they don't aggro, then we can keep playing gatcha until we draw a winner, can't we?"

That was quite the bright side.

"No!" Pawnzer shouted, chopping at the air.

"Indeed." PoH said, sounding thoughtful as he stroked his chin. "I think I will need to scold the NPC that sold me that ritual before we make another attempt."

"At least we'll never hear of that particular demon again." Johnny said, nodding sagely.

"Are you trying to jinx us?" Pawnzer demanded angrily.

"Yes," XaXa said in time with Johnny.

"That thing was cool." Johnny continued, blinking with a slightly confused look on his face. "It had such a colorful design, you know? Though it was sound based." He corrected himself on a strange point.

XaXa silently met PoH's eyes, as Pawnzer started shouting at Johnny. Again.

End

I I I

1) Yeah the Bornless ritual. Once again, I do research and find modern people talking about demonology and mystical junk on their websites as if it's an actual, real thing that's true. People are goofy.

2) "How can I leverage the spooky atmosphere into horror?" I wondered. "I know, let's watch a fake little girl suffer over torturing people for science."

3) That being said, this is another one where it's a little experimental: getting inside the head of a computer program so to speak, like with that Orc Boss. I was aiming for, like, the robotic dryness of the writing kind "hides" the emotional content, so the horribleness slowly dawns on you as you keep reading; let me know if that's how it worked out. I was also going for a dichotomy for Yui's internal experience, a relateable human bit, and a machine bit with lubricating grease instead of blood.

4) Anyway Laughing Coffin got two new members. They are a dating couple, but I'm not sure how unhealthy or messed up it should be. (I don't want it to be distracting, but it's not like well-functioning people join Laughing Coffin, either). Also Pawnzer is the Tsukomi to Johnny's Boke, a dynamic that was missing before because the rest of the guild is so stoic.

 

[daniel_gudman]

16.2 Ilya's Disciples

Like always, Harper was humming.

He claimed it was a cheap way to draw Aggro against ambush-type mobs, so (he claimed) it was just part of his duty as the tank. Maybe it was even true.

But Bel knew it was an excuse; after all, Harper was always humming, and occasionally, whistling, inside the Safe Zone as well as out in the field. That's how Bel knew it was a really an excuse.

But Harper was really good at it, so it wasn't like Bel minded. Harper said he was going to get an Instrument Skill once he got his third skill slot.

Even if he was bad though, Bel still wouldn't have minded. Because Harper was his important party mate.

Three days after the game had started, Bel had been in a funk, scared and alone. Sometimes he had sniffled, crying because he missed mom and he wanted to be sleeping in his own bed and not in the inn. And he had been running out of Col, so he wouldn't be able to afford the inn anymore.

Mom had always said that if he was a big boy he should pick himself up, so he'd picked himself up and gone out in the field to hunt mobs.

After that he'd met Harper. Adults were scary, but Harper hadn't told him to stay in the Safe Zone like most adults. Instead Harper had asked if he wanted to party up, since Harper was a tank, he needed somebody to be DPS for him.

After that they had been a party. Harper said "good night" to him every night before bedtime and "good morning" every morning when they left the inn. They ate together. Bel wondered if this was what it would had been like if dad hadn't left. That was a secret though.

Chuck held up his hand, as he stopped in place.

Harper stopped too, his whistle ending.

Bel stopped behind them, and he nervously dropped into a fighting stance as his hands came to rest on the handles of both daggers on his hips.

"See something?" Bel whispered.

Chuck replied after a moment. "Yeah." He replied, reaching over his shoulder to unhook his halberd and swing it around. "Get ready for battle."

"Let's go." Harper said, stepping forward as he drew the greatsword off his back. "Same drill as always?"

"Should be." Chuck replied. "Careful, this is about the area where [Lizard Berserkers] start appearing."

Chuck had been in the Beta test. Bel could tell that Chuck didn't like him because he was a kid, even if Chuck never said anything. But kids could see more than adults gave them credit for, so Bel could tell. Still, Chuck didn't talk down to him, so Bel tried to be as good a party member as any adult, so Chuck wouldn't have anything to complain about. Mom said that getting along with people even if you didn't like them was something a big boy would do, and since Chuck was trying to get along with Bel, Bel felt like he should also try and pretend.

They moved forward, Harper in the lead with Chuck and Bel at his sides. The [Drill] they used was to gang up on one mob at a time, with Harper drawing it off so Chuck and Bel could double-team it.

They scrambled through the woods, climbing up a slight slope. There was a pile of rubble in front of them, that looked like a stone house that had fallen apart.

And yeah, that was where the mobs came from.

Four popped out, heads poking out of the ruined house, making that same half-growl, half-chirping sound that all Kobolds make.

Three were [Armor Scavengers], the regular tank-types that appeared around here. They always had a random mix of equipment so their defenses were always a little different. It didn't really change the way the party handled them, though.

The last one was wearing a beat-up robe and holding a stick. He was smaller and thinner than the other three, and his icon said he was a [Worm Initiate].

"Think we should go for the Caster type?" Bel asked.

Chuck grunted. "The only spells in town are buffs, right? So I think it can only use Reinforcement. Between preventing buffs or decreasing the number of attackers, which would be better?"

Harper made a thoughtful hum sound before speaking. "We're better suited to peeling off the Scavengers one by one and dealing with them that way. Charging the caster might get us swarmed."

Chuck nodded sharply, before shouting. "Here they come!"

Harper roared, stepping forward and using a Sword Skill to attack one of the Armor Scavengers.

Chuck followed up, using his bigger weapon to do repeated damage. Bel darted forward, whipping out his daggers. He didn't want to fall behind.

"Oooh!" Harper shouted, swinging his sword up.

The [Worm Initiate] started chanting, waving his staff around.

Bel dodged the attack of a second Armor Scavenger, ducking under Harper's arm to launch forward with a double-slash, before pulling back out again.

The [Worm Initiate] finished chanting, and pointed his staff at Harper with a sound that was half shout and half croak.

"Geh!" Harper grunted, stumbling in place. He was moving awkwardly, his body stiff. He almost fell over before he managed to catch himself with a jerky movement.

"A debuff?" Chuck asked.

"Yeah, seems like it." Harper said, voice slightly slurred.

"Damn." Chuck said, eyes darting from party member to party member.

"Damn!" He repeated, as he used a skill.

A minute later, Bel figured out why. All three of the Armor Scavengers were ganging up on Harper.

And Harper was having a hard time dodging with his body under a partial paralysis like that.

The [Worm Initiate] was chanting again.

"Damn!" Chuck was screaming this time, as he frantically hacked at the kobolds. "Let's retreat!"

"Good... idea." Harper said, stumbling as he fell back, awkwardly walking as Chuck covered him.

The [Worm Initiate] finished chanting, and pointed his staff at Harper again.

And Harper stopped moving, grinding to a halt.

"Oh damn." Chuck moaned, eyes darting around, before they rested on Bel.

"Kid." Chuck said, eyes intense. "Get running."

"But Harper-" Bel protested.

"I said run!" Chuck screamed, eyes jerking forward as he swung his halberd, attacking an [Armor Scavenger] and interrupting it's attack on Harper. "Run you brat!"

"But-" Bel said again, uncertain.

"Do as I say!" Chuck shouted, turning back to engage the mobs. "Goddamit Harper, I called you an idiot for dragging a brat along, but I was an idiot for going along with it." He swung his halberd again, frantically trying to keep up. But he wasn't.

Harper's HP was in the red.

And the [Worm Initiate] was chanting again.

"Get out of here kid, we'll catch up!" Chuck was screaming at him. Telling such an obvious lie, was Chuck the kind of adult that thought kids couldn't tell?

But Bel swallowed, tears forming in his eyes, as he turned, and ran.

He turned, sight blurry, as he sprinted away, not wanting to see. Not wanting to hear.

But he slammed into something, and fell backwards.

He looked up.

The [Worm Initiate] was standing in front of him, standing above him as he lay sprawled on his back, and then it finished chanting, and raised it's staff and pointed at him -!

And Bel woke up.

Gasping for air while his heart pounded in his chest, fingers balled in his blanket with his hands clenched in fists, Bel woke up. His eyelids stretched wide as they darted around the room.

His room, that he shared with Huntar. Huntar was asleep in the bed next to him. Bel hadn't screamed this time.

They were safe. This was a [Safe Zone]. This was their dorm room in the [Boarding School] in [Elvengrad]. He wasn't back out in the field on the First Floor.

Two weeks after the [Official Launch], the player named [Berserker], called [Bel] for short, had Retired from the game.

He checked the clock in his menu. It was 5:45 in the morning. Still really early, but he didn't feel like going back to sleep.

Bel decided to go hang out in the cafeteria. The [Lunch Lady] was an NPC, so she was there 24 hours a day.

He was a little thirsty, so he thought it would be good to have some of the red juice that was always available. It tasted a little weird, like apples but not really, but he kind of liked it.

And… there were always lights on in the cafeteria. That was good, too.

Quietly, with his arms wrapped around himself, Bel slid out of bed and scampered away, head down as he refused to look into the shadows.

I I I

Hexadecimal knelt, eyes closed with head bowed, and with his hands clasped together in front of him.

"Oh Mary, conceived without sin, pray for us who have recourse to thee, and for those who do not have recourse to thee, especially the enemies of the Church and those recommended to thee. Amen."

It was still a little weird, like he was cosplaying in bad taste. Maybe not just like, that was kind of exactly what he was doing.

Still, he raised his head, put his hands on his thighs, and pushed up so that he was standing.

"Thanks for teaching me." He said, quietly.

"It wasn't a problem." Kains replied, gently. "Go and be blessed, my son."

"Yeah, thanks." Hexi mumbled, feeling awkward again as his eyes drifted to the side, as he turned and walked away.

Kains was a good guy, and he was comforting without being pushy, and when he talked about redemption it seemed really genuine, somehow, so that was at least kind of cool.

But there was a fundamental misunderstanding about why Hexi was here, and at this point he was a little embarrassed to admit to it. Diabel had been gently encouraging, and it had kind of felt like his intestines were tying themselves in a knot.

Because he wasn't getting involved with the Church because he wanted to be redeemed of sin or whatever. He'd heard rumors while Scouting that Priests could store stuff in pages of the Bible, and that was the closest thing to a Bag of Holding that Hexi had heard of so far. Kains acted like Hexi was making an excuse when he asked about it, but Kains was also seriously teaching him, so Hexadecimal couldn't really resent him. Probably he was just quietly waiting for Hexi to slowly trust him more, to open up more. The heck of it was, that was working; Hexi didn't know how he felt about that, either.

Hexi sighed, slapping his cheeks with his hands, the material of his gloves making a muffled clapping sound against the fabric of his mask.

He jogged outside, grunting at the evening sun as he pushed out into the wide central plaza of the First Floor, coming out from the big Church that faced onto it. No, wait, it was technically a Cathedral now, wasn't it? Because Yulier was the Bishop? Hexadecimal didn't think girls were allowed to be Bishops, but he really didn't want to be the one to make that objection, so he just kept his mouth shut.

There wasn't a line for the Teleport Gate, and the Plaza was pretty much deserted, long shadows across the paving stones. Unless someone came to the Cathedral to visit the Monument of Life or meet with a priest, there really wasn't any reason to even visit the First Floor anymore. And since the Item Vendors that had been lining the plaza calling out to Players had kind of broken the mood the Church Aid Association was going for, all those NPCs had been shuffled out and the slots filled with empty placeholders. It was just as quiet outside the Cathedral as it was inside.

So coming off that sombre mood onto the bustle and shouting of Elvengrad was always kind of a trip. Main Street was always busy these days, all day every day, with Rear Liners and Mid Liners buying and selling mats and equipment, and then partying during the night. [The Wheel and Eel] that he was walking past right then was a particularly famous spot for trading mob drops.

Broadly speaking, Hexi ignored them. The highest-tier stuff they had on offer was second-hand goods that was obsoleted off the Front Line. He wasn't interested in buying back his own trash.

No, he was going somewhere because Shishou had called a meeting. He checked his minimap, ducking around a corner and going down a sidestreet as he walked towards the meeting place.

He glanced up at the sign, and immediately cringed.

[Meido Paradice!]

That's what the sign hanging over the door said, in misspelled English with an exclamation point and everything.

Hexadecimal sucked air in through his nose, and then stepped forward, pushing the door open and stepping across the threshold. A bell on the back of the door jingled.

"Welcome home, master!" Two girls on either side of the door chorused, as they bowed to him.

Hexi instinctively bowed back, lower, even though they were almost certainly NPCs instead of Players. Well, he certainly hoped that they were NPCs.

He opened his mouth.

"Would you like dinner?" One asked, coquettishly.

Hexi stumbled over his tongue as it cut him off, and tried to open his mouth again.

"Or a bath?" The other said, fluttering her eyelids at him.

"Or maybe..." They chorused, suggestively.

Hexadecimal darted back outside, the door slamming behind him. He breathed in, and then out.

He pushed the door open again and stepped back inside.

"Welcome home, Master!" They chorused again, exactly the same.

"I'm meeting someone." Hexi hurriedly said, before they could speak again. "Can you tell me where Shishou is?" He asked, feeling flustered. "Shishou is [The White Witch]." He corrected himself.

With matching smiles like professional idols, they both tilted their heads to the side at the exact same angle.

"This way please!" One said, bowing to him, before it turned and walked away.

Hexi bowed back, again reflexively, and then hurried three steps to catch up with her.

She led him around to the back, pushing aside a sliding Shoji door (which clashed really badly with the linoleum, pseudo-fluorescent lights, and cafe tables) and bowing as she gestured inside the room.

"Ah! Deshi!" Ilya said, waving from the head of the table.

"Sorry I'm late." Hexi mumbled, glancing around at the people gathered. He recognized Silica-kun, but the guy slouched in his chair on Ilya's right with the creepily intense gaze and the boy sitting his head down were both strangers to him. No, the creepily intense guy looked familiar now that he thought about it, but the kid was definitely a total stranger.

"It's no problem, you're right on time exactly!" Ilya said, smiling kindly as she patted the chair on her left side.

"Now I'm sure you already know Silica-chan", Ilya said, "but I don't believe you have been introduced to these other two." She stood, pushing her chair back with her hands.

The guy sitting next to her quickly followed her lead, pushing himself up quickly and standing with his back straight. It was quite the contrast to his slouched-over posture while sitting.

The other boy stood as well, although he was actually shorter standing than sitting in the chair.

"Everyone," Ilya said, "This is my wonderful apprentice, Hexideshi! You can call him Hexadecimal, and even though he's part of the [Paladins], please treat him well!"

What was that, Hexi thought to himself. "Good to meet you." He said, half-mumbling.

"And of course, I am pleased to introduce you to the newest recruit into the [Brotherhood of Saint Mark], this is our own Kuradeel-kun." Ilya said, as she gestured with her palm towards the creepy guy. "We expect great things of him, so please look after him."

"Much obliged." Kuradeel said, voice stiff, even though his lip twitched like he was suppressing a grin.

"A-ah." Hexadecimal agreed.

"And of course, the star of today's show, the reason we've gathered here today, the fine Rear Liner, [Berserker]. Please treat him well." Ilya said. Her smile somehow looked a little plastic to Hexi.

"You can just call me Bel." The kid said, eyes down.

"Tut tut!" Ilya said, clapping her hands together once. "When you have such a fine name like Berserker, it would be a shame if you didn't use it. Wouldn't it? Berserker-kun."

So this was that, huh.

There was a rumor going around on the Front Line.

Retired Players who didn't really participate in the game.

Rear Liners who only did the minimum needed to support themselves.

Mid Liners who slowly explored the already-conquered Floors.

And Front Liners, who were actively clearing the game.

To those four broad categories stacked by Floor, it was whispered that Diabel was trying to add a fifth category that was separate to them.

"So, Berserker-kun is a [Side Liner], huh?" Hexadecimal asked, glancing at the kid speculatively.

Science Liners, or Side Liners. Kibaou was pushing for the second one because his sense of humor was kind of terrible. Hexi was just going along with that at this point since he didn't really care either way.

"Um?" The kid asked, tilting his head to the side, looking confused.

"Yes, that's correct." Ilya cheerfully said.

The four layers of Player, divided by Floor, obviously applied to the people who actually went out and engaged mobs, but it was even obvious when looking at support and crafting Players. For example, considering two [Smiths] that Hexi knew, even though he went out into the field more frequently than she did, Grimlock was clearly a Mid Liner, while Lisbeth was clearly a Front Liner. So it wasn't like there was an absolute dividing line, but it was also true that jumping up a category was a big hurdle that a Player really had to struggle to clear.

But theoretically, that didn't have to apply to a certain category of Players: the people who developed [Spells]. Because while having a high Skill in the spells mattered to using them quickly and reliably, it was also true that [Magecraft Traits] didn't really improve. Someone that was [Level One] could theoretically be just as good at Magecraft as someone at [Level Ninety-Nine]. Or rather, it was actually plausible that a Rear or Mid Liner could develop [Spells] useful to the Front.

Creating that category of Player was Diabel's new secret project. Well, since it was the subject of Front-Liner gossip even Hexi had heard about it, but until it was officially published in the [Argo Guide] it wasn't like the Mid or Rear Liners would really know about it.

"I see." Hexadecimal said, as he finally sat down at the table.

Ilya smiled, and pushed a drink in front of him. Ah, it was a spare that she had already ordered for him.

She had an expectant look on her face.

Hexadecimal grunted, and materialized a drinking straw from his inventory.

Ilya pouted, but turned back to the conversation. "Well, that's essentially the case. Berserker-kun has been actively developing Spells while at the Boarding School, and I heard about him through a mutual acquaintance." Ilya said, nodding at Silica.

"Ah! Yes." Silica said, blinking as the floor was suddenly turned over to her. "I met Bel-kun, I mean, Berserker-kun, in the [Wheel and Eel] when he was recommended to me by the [Barbarians]." Silica had a weirdly professional smile while she said that.

"R-right!" Berserker said, looking uncomfortable. "Um, I wanted to know if there was anyone that could help me, since I'm working on a [Pure Eye] spell. And, um, since Silica-nee-chan has the [Mystic Eye of Charm], I was pointed to her."

Hexi grimaced under his mask. Was Ilya trying to steal a march on Diabel? Hexi wanted to complain to his Shishou about her putting him in the middle of that again, but he already knew it was useless.

"Um." Kuradeel said, looking surprisingly hesitant. And wow, he could really fade into the background, even with such an intense appearance.

"Ah, haven't I said?" Ilya said, touching her finger to her lip in a cute gesture. "Well, just like I put the [Mystic Eye of Whisper] into you, Kuradeel-kun, Silica has the [Mystic Eye of Charm], and Hexideshi is the senpai to both of you with his [Mystic Eye of Binding]."

Ilya clenched her fist in front of her in a guts pose. "All three get!"

"Uh, White Witch-sama," Berserker said, hesitating, "I've heard of Binding," and he glanced shyly at Hexi, before looking away, "But what are the eyes of Charm and Whisper?"

Ilya pouted, considering. "The simplest answer," she said slowly, "is that Binding interferes with the body, Charm interferes with the emotions, and Whisper interferes with the mind." She nodded, and then corrected herself. "Well, since they're still fundamentally actuated by your Magic Circuits just like any Spell Phenomena, splitting them up like that is overly reductionist, but it's a simple way to understand how they're different."

Hexadecimal traded glances with Silica. Fortunately the Sixth Ranger wasn't here, or they'd really go off on an incomprehensible jargon-filled tangent. Only Kirito even tried to keep up with that any more. They had to pull Ilya back on track before it was too late, though.

"So if my [Mystic Eye of Binding] allows me to, uh, interfere physically, then I can see how it allows me to puppet-control mobs who fail against the spell. How is [Mystic Eye of Charm] different?"

Silica magnificently picked up her prompt. "Well I've only had it for a few days," she said with a self-depreciating laugh, "but [Charm] is more like, I can change the mob's reaction state from [Enemy] to [Neutral] or even [Friendly]?"

Ilya chuckled delicately into her palm. "Traditionally the [Charm Eye] made the target fall in love with the caster. Ah, but Silica-chan, you use it with your Beast Element, isn't that right? I wonder what that means." Ilya trailed off suggestively.

"Mou." Silica whined slumping over in her chair. "Ilya-chan, you said you wouldn't tease me about that again."

Silica was just plain better at communication skills that Hexi was, but he was getting good enough that he could tell that Silica was actually bothered by that, at least a little bit. Ilya could get pretty rough when she teased people, and only the Sixth Ranger was capable of really counterattacking. The best Hexi could do was deflect or evade.

"I can see where that would be really useful for you." Hexi said. When she turned to look at him, Silica had a betrayed look in her eyes, and Hexi realized he really needed to complete the thought. "I mean, that means it's easy for you to tame mobs, right? To use as Familiars."

"That's right." Silica said, smiling up at him in relief.

"So then, uh, Kuradeel-san." Hexadecimal said. He had almost used kun, but somehow the look in those sunken eyes was too intense. "What can you do with the [Mystic Eye of Whisper]?"

There was a pause, and then Kuradeel spoke. "I'll demonstrate."

He frowned, closing his eyes as he concentrated, and then slowly opened them.

His irises were red. No, it was more like tiny magical shapes were shining red on top of his irises, making it look like his eyeballs were glowing. Hexadecimal knew a similar effect happened with his [Binding Eye], although his shined more of a flat yellow color.

redrum

Hexi blinked, cocking his head to the side. Had he heard something?

redrum

There it was again, like someone was whispering right behind his ear. Hexi turned to look behind him, an uneasy feeling rising out of his gut.

redrumredrumREDRUM

"Gah!" Hexi said, popping his Circuits open. The freaky chanting and the uneasy feeling both immediately ended, even though he hadn't even circulated prana.

"That was freaky." Hexadecimal admitted.

Kuradeel smiled like that had been a compliment. Well, Hexi supposed it was better to let him think that.

"As you can see," Ilya explained, "the [Whisper Eye] creates false sensory perception, primarily in the form of auditory hallucination."

"If it's just hearing things, then what was with that creepy feeling?" Hexi complained.

Ilya hummed. "Fundamentally the [Whisper Eye] becomes a form of hypnosis. That's what it's for. Because of Kuradeel's unique talent, however, he's especially gifted at the kind of hallucination that works like the special effects in a horror movie."

Kuradeel nodded proudly, even though Hexi was pretty sure that wasn't something to be proud of.

"So those are the three kinds of [Spell] that can be printed on the surface of an eyeball and automatically activated by circulating prana through them." Ilya summarized, clapping her hands together. "Although considered basic, they are highly-regarded for their efficiency and reliability, so please use them well."

"Now, you said something interesting earlier. Berserker-kun." Ilya said, turning to the kid among them. And what was up with that weird emphasis on his name?

"Um, right." He said, taking that as his cue. "So I've developed a spell that's a [Pure Eye], um, and it lets me see like, sound waves, I can look at things like a bat." His explanation was a little weird, but Hexi mostly followed it.

"That's not technically correct." Ilya said, shaking her head with a put-upon sigh, shaking her head in theatrical dismay.

"Please teach us, Ilya-shishou." Hexi loyally replied to her prompt.

"What you're doing is neither a [Pure Eye] nor even truly a [Mystic Eye]." Ilya lectured, not bothered at all as the kid shrunk in his seat. She was in full-blown lecture mode so she didn't even notice.

"In the first place, a [Mystic Eye] is a formal spell that is engraved on the iris, a magecraft circle that forms a film across the pupil that is projected outwards onto the object of your vision. Since you haven't engraved the spell onto your eyeball by surgically altering the appropriate Circuits, it isn't a [Mystic Eye] by definition, instead it is a vision-enhancing spell." Ilya nodded in agreement with herself.

"Ah!" Silica said, tilting her head to the side. "But because it's adding a new kind of vision instead of improving existing sight, it's [Alteration] instead of [Reinforcement], right?" She smiled encouragingly at Berserker.

"Um, right!" He replied with an uncertain smile.

"In the second place", Ilya continued heedlessly, "although they can be organically encouraged and developed, [Pure Eyes] are a phenomena that occur, not an effect that humans can directly cause. And finally and most importantly, something of that grade simply doesn't rise to the level of Pure Eye. It's just two points drawing a line, after all."

Despite himself Hexi was kind of curious about that. "What do you mean by that, Ilya-shishou?"

Ilya turned to him, smiling patiently. "A [Mystic Eye] is fundamentally something that is projected from one person onto a target. From A to B, it's a line. Whereas a [Pure Eye] is always... triangular, because it draws on karma, or possibly even destiny. Rather than projecting the effect onto the target, it's more like the [Pure Eye] takes a photograph, submits the photograph to Google Image Search, and returns the resulting information to the one who bears the [Pure Eye]."

Kuradeel opened his mouth, and then closed it, frowning.

"Yes, Kuradeel-kun?" Ilya gently asked.

"How's that different?" He finally asked. "I mean, how can you tell the difference. Like, uh," he was clearly struggling to articulate his question, "like let's say that you used a Pure Eye, to, I don't know, check the HP of a mob. Then a [Pure Eye] would pull the information off the server, I guess? While a Mystic Eye would look at the particular mob?" He frowned. "Since mobs are hosted server-side, I dunno that's any different."

Ilya nodded. "That's actually insightful, and works towards the fundamental way to test the difference between a [Pure Eye] and a psychic [Mystic Eye]." She pursed her lips, considering. "In order to defeat a Mystic Eye, you can shroud the target with a defense. But in order to fool a Pure Eye, you have to interfere with the bearer's connection to the World. Their karma, or destiny."

Hexadecimal nodded slowly, frowning as he digested that. "So it's much harder to fool a [Pure Eye] then a [Mystic Eye], is that it?" It sounded like a [Pure Eye] was some kind of, Super Observe command, while a Mystic Eye was 'just' a spell. More limited, but more powerful inside those limits, that kind of tradeoff.

Ilya tilted her head to the side, making an uncertain face. "Yes, but that's really just a side effect? For a magus it's more like, a [Pure Eye] is interesting, while a [Mystic Eye] is useful."

I I I

Front Liners were mean.

Bel stared down at the table in front of him, hands folded in his lap as he tried not to pout. He didn't want to look uncool in front of Silica.

He tried not to take it personal, but he had been really proud. He had been asked to show off his cool Spell to [The White Witch]! He'd been feeling really low, and working on his Spells made him feel better, and when he'd been asked to show off his Spell to Front Liners, he'd been really happy and proud.

But they didn't even ask to see it. Instead, The White Witch had just started lecturing him about how wrong he was. She didn't even see his Spell first, how would she know? It was his Spell. He had thought it up, even though listening to the NPC trainers was just as confusing and frustrating as listening to his math teacher in school. He had tried really hard, and she didn't even look before making fun of his Spell!

What did she know, anyway.

Bel felt like he was gonna cry. He didn't want to give her that.

"Um." He said, without looking up. "I gotta go, or I'll be late."

"Thank you for visiting us. Berserker-kun." The White Witch said, curtsying. Some [Titled Player]. Bel wanted to tell her that the Sixth Ranger wouldn't be mean like her, but he didn't want to pick a fight. Mom always said it was wrong to pick fights.

And why did she say his name like that, anyway?

"You're welcome." He mumbled, without looking up.

"Um, you want..." The weird guy with the mask looked like he was gonna offer to walk Bel home. Like Bel was a kid.

"No." He shook his head. "I'll be fine."

Silica smiled at him and waved goodbye. Bel nodded stiffly. She was still really cute, but she had just let him get picked on. He still wanted her to think he was cool, but Bel didn't really want anything to do with her. He wasn't sure.

He was weirdly grateful to the masked guy for asking, even if he had to say no, cause he didn't want to be around them no more.

"Later, I guess." Bel mumbled, turning and walking out. He held himself back from running, he didn't want to look like he was running away.

He didn't want to go back. If he went back then Huntar and Emily and Sasha would all ask about how it went, and he didn't even want to think about it, let alone talk about it. Maybe not ever, but definitely not right now.

The sun was just setting. It would be dark soon. He opened his menu, and typed up a message to Sasha, making excuses that he was still in the meeting. He didn't like to lie, but he had especially been given permission to go out late after dinner, he wanted to wait until after bed time to go back. If he told Sasha he didn't want to talk about it she would let him not talk about it, and she wouldn't ask. Sasha was like a good mom like that. But Huntar and Emily were just as excited as he was. Had been. He didn't want to talk to them.

He wished there were swings somewhere he could go sit on. Instead he wandered aimlessly, between the back alleys in the city. It was spooky, kind of, but he was in a Safe Zone so he would be okay.

"I-" He stopped himself. He didn't say it. If he started talking to Harper, then he'd cry. Bel didn't want to cry.

He sat down, drawing his knees up and wrapping his arms around them.

He thought about his cool spell, and playing with Huntar, and how they'd sneak off to learn Spells together, and compete with Emily over who had the coolest spells. He didn't think about Harper or Chuck. He thought about how Sasha always pushed them to eat lots even though it was VR and they didn't need to eat at all. He heard a long note in the background, real low and deep. He didn't think about how Harper always whistled even during dinner, and said "Good night" every night when he went to bed, and how Harper always said "Good Morning" and that made it so Chuck had to say "Good Morning" back even though he didn't want to. The note went slowly out.

Miserable, Bel tucked his chin tighter against his knees, wrapping his arms tighter. He could hear the note again, real funny like it was coming up his butt through the ground, not just through the air to his ears. He kind of wanted to turn on his Spell and see what it looked like, but he didn't want to at the same time. He didn't want to think.

He heard the note again. It wasn't any louder, it wasn't any closer, but it was more. Like, it was more in his mind. Even though he wasn't hearing it more, it was filling up his thoughts, pushing out stuff about other people that he didn't want to think about anyway.

It was good. Bel relaxed, his arms unclenching from around his knees, and his back relaxing as he sagged, since he wasn't holding his back real tight any more. He didn't have to think.

He heard the note again, it was really big in his mind. It wasn't any closer though, it still sounded, it still felt really far away.

Bel stood up. He wanted to get closer to the note. He didn't want to think about anything else but that.

Mechanically, he started to walk towards the note.

End

I I I

1) Ugh so long I haven't even been THAT busy, I just got out of the habit of writing. And it's not like I was particularly dealing with writer's block, I just broke the habit of writing regular.

2) Yeah, this is the kid from that anecdote Sasha told back in 14.3, I figured it would be a shame to waste that.

3) Front Liners play rough, huh?

4) Rather than mood whiplash precisely, I was trying to create a feeling of disconnect there. Where Ilya and her crew were talking but missing that essential point, and they were all pointing in completely a different direction than the kid. Or, fundamentally Ilya is still a jackass and the rest of her crew are too used to it? Like that maybe.

 

[daniel_gudman]

16.3 Black Cats

The [Black Cats]. That was the name of the guild that Keita was in, with his friends from Outside.

"Three Birds!" Sasamaru shouted, thrusting forward with his spear. It howled, flaring up with the combined effects of wind, fire, and ether mixing together as they were emitted by his spear.

Well, that was what everyone called them, but technically, the full name entered into the system was [The Moonlit Black Cats].

Sasamaru's thrust pierced the mob in front of him, a ghostly corpse that hung in the air, mortal wounds still visible in his transparent form. The thrust ripped into him, scattering the ghost like fog being blown into sunlight.

Keita was pretty sure this was the first time they had actually been out running a quest in the moonlight, though.

Even as the light died down from Sasamaru's burst, Tetsuo stepped forward, shield raised defensively in front of him as he swung his strange mace-sword, striking the mob he was engaging. Rather than his weapon passing through and damaging with the elements, instead it was more like his solid blow could naturally touch ghosts, solidly smashing into his own ghost-soldier's skull.

Although the majority of Players lived in Elvengrad on the Seventh Floor, the Floor itself wasn't actually that populated. Never mind the Front Liners, even the Mid Liners tended to adventure on higher level Floors, while meanwhile, most Rear Liners were underleveled for it. Additionally, since the mobs were mostly an Orcish Horde theme, they didn't drop any mats that were interesting to the Familiar-crafters, and there weren't any resource nodes worth much, either.

The commander of the ghosts wailed, throwing his head back and screaming like a banshee. Actually, it was probably literally a banshee's scream in terms of effect, but it sounded strangely muted and far away, like he was screaming on the other side of a thick wall, rather than across open space.

As a result, even though they weren't that far from Elvengrad, there weren't any other Players around the whole area, except for them. What that meant practically was, the atmosphere of the quest was actually kind of creepy, even though they were not only overleveled for this Quest, but also over-buffed and extremely over-geared.

Likewise, Keita could feel the wail on a spiritual level, but instead of feeling like it was on the other side of a wall, instead it sounded like someone had rapped on his head while he was wearing a baseball helmet.

Over-buffed... that was probably the effect that made him feel like he was wearing a baseball helmet, that spiritual attacks were on the other side of a wall. Painted on his face (Kirito had glossed over what the paint was made out of and Keita hadn't asked) was the number [1292].

Adding up the values of the letters in [Keita] according to Numerology, [Keita] was 19, and [The Moonlit Black Cats] was 68. Multiply them together, and that was 1292.

Sasamaru had 1428 painted on his face; [Sasamaru] was 21, and 21 times 68 was 1428. Likewise, since [Tetsuo] also happened to be 19, the number on his forehead also happened to be 1292, just like Keita.

"Get him!" Keita said, even though it was strictly unnecessary. His Rumblecloset surged forward, doors swinging wide with a strange creaking sound, ether threads shooting out to entangle the ghost-commander and drag it in. A half-dozen swords lined the inside of the closet, like an iron maiden.

Inside the guild, only Sacchi had managed to [Inherit] the spell from Kirito. Called [Key of the Guild], it was something their Front Liner patron had developed; based on principles of Cryptography, by multiplying their individual numerological values with the value they shared as a [Guild], they could spiritually protect themselves by preventing access to people that didn't comprehend the meaning of the number displayed on their foreheads. Against unthinking AI mobs, that wasn't much of a weakness at all.

The ghost commander struggled, resisting getting dragged in with all it's power. But a strange blur approached from behind, and Ducker snapped into view as his Invisibility spell abruptly failed from the ghost disturbing the mana in it's close vicinity.

The ghost commander turned, struggling against the threads to raise its weapon, but Ducker smiled impishly, launching a jumpkick before it could respond, knocking it off-balance.

It was all the opening Keita's Rumblecloset needed, and the off-balance ghost was abruptly dragged the rest of the way inside, the doors snapping shut around it.

It howled again, this time in pain instead of as an attack, but that cut off abruptly as it's HP went to zero and it died, the [Congratulations] text popping up.

"Does anyone need a top-up?" Sacchi asked.

Keita glanced around, shaking his head slightly when she met his gaze. Sasamaru and Tetsuo both also shook their head.

"I could do with some, actually." Ducker said. "That [Invisibility] is a total gas-guzzler."

"Alright." Sacchi said, smiling gently, before she closed her eyes, focusing. "[Extension Cord]." Invoking the name of her spell, ether converged into a string, too thick to be called a thread, and drifted out, darting back and forth like a living thing, before it abruptly struck the rest of the way towards Ducker, like lightning.

It shined, pulsing as Sacchi fed her prana down it from her Circuits to Ducker. The glow was actually less bright than usual; Sacchi said that it was an unexpected side-effect of the Encryption Defense. Since [Key of the Guild] expressly recognized them as guildmates, it actually reduced the innate magic resistance of spells they cast on each other. Since the shining glow was prana being dissipated as resistance, the lower resistance meant less glow.

"Good job everyone." Keita praised. "We're really making good time."

"Yeah!" Ducker cheered.

It had been the same session where Kirito had taught them [Key of the Guild], or rather, when he had finished developing it, using them as test subjects. Keita hadn't asked why Kirito hadn't developed it on himself. Since Kirito didn't like talking about his relationship with the [BSM], Keita figured that Kirito had just wanted to avoid an awkward situation.

Kirito had offered to teach them the spell as a reward for their cooperation, and although it was shameless, Keita had accepted the offer. Like always Keita offered additional payment to be fair, and like always Kirito declined with a random excuse; this time had been that his real reward was a Social Link Up with the NPC Magecraft Instructor that Kirito had for Numerology. Privately Keita wondered if that was a lie, since even the Argo's Guide didn't list any Numerology Instructors, and Kirito was just making it up. But since it wasn't like Keita could actually afford to pay a fair price for the spells Kirito taught them, Keita felt like he couldn't challenge those excuses anyway.

Still, the only one that had successfully managed to learn it that session was Sacchi. Well, privately Keita felt that was fine; Sacchi contributed the least during combat, but this added another way she could uniquely support the party. In a way, her ability to buff their defenses, top up their Circuits, and maintain their Mule Familiars meant she contributed a lot to the guild as an excellent supporting caster. It headed off a lot of friction in the guild.

"I think we're getting closer." Sacchi quietly volunteered.

"Yes." Tetsuo agreed, nodding as a smile slowly spread across her face.

Because she was becoming more useful, Sacchi didn't hesitate as much to speak up when they were planning what to do. And because she was so useful, the rest of the guild were happy to go along with her suggestions. Like that, Keita was relieved that the worst stress-seam in his guild didn't actually crack open into a problem.

Her suggestion had been to do something for Kirito as a surprise.

Since Kirito had also been complaining in that same session about the unfinished [Haunted Castle Quest] that the BSM Guild Headquarters had (apparently [The White Witch] had aborted it with mind-control somehow), they had stumbled on an idea: follow the ghost-quest to the End, so they could tell Kirito about it. Then he could run it himself, or just be satisfied from hearing the end of the story.

As a result, the [Moonlit Black Cats] were out chasing ghosts in the moonlight.

So far, as near as they could figure, the story went something like this:

The great [Orc King Gorm] had rampaged across the field, conquering castles and towns one after another, enslaving the populace and killing the nobles. He had been halfway across the Floor when great heroes rose up and defeated him, in the name of justice.

Well, leaving aside that the Front Liners hadn't even known that was going on when they cleared the boss, it was true that what quests were left on the Seventh Floor mostly amounted to follow-up actions and cleaning up the broken remainder of the Orc Horde, before a new Orc King could arise. (And that was a flag that bothered Keita a little bit.)

In one of those castles that the orcs had conquered, enslaving the populace and killing the nobles, some brave knights had given their lives, so the Knight Commander could escape with the only child of their Duke, a young daughter. While the Duke died bravely leading a last stand, all his knights had been slaughtered to the last by the Horde.

Without even knowing if their princess was still alive to even retake the Ducal throne, their spirits couldn't rest. Broadly speaking, Keita wasn't sure which way the Quest would break for the ending, but since the whole premise was that the castle was available for [The White Witch] to inherit in the first place, Keita was about 90% sure a tragic conclusion to the quest arc awaited them.

That was the Quest Arc they were trying to complete right now.

Having just dispersed the restless spirit of some of those knights, they were following the trail the Knight Commander had taken as he fled the castle during the attack; the uncertainty of the dead knights turning them into restless spirits that followed the same pilgrimage.

Cardinal was pretty obnoxious about chaining quest objectives together, so rather than the end of the trail being something definitive like the bones of the lost princess, they would probably just get a marker that would send them on the next leg.

"Hey." Ducker said, interrupting Keita's internal monologue, coming to a stop, cocking his head to the side. "You guys hear that?" He asked.

Keita frowned. "No." He admitted.

Sasamaru shook his head, making an uncertain expression. "Yeah. It sounds like... really slow flute music? It's far too low-pitched for a flute, though."

"Yeah, exactly!" Ducker said, enthused. "I want to check it out!"

"You think it's the next leg of the quest?" Keita asked. It felt like a complete non-sequitur, so it could just be a random encounter, or maybe even a red herring.

Ducker shrugged. That's right, Keita ruefully thought, even if it was a distraction, as long as it was interesting, Ducker wouldn't care.

"We might as well check it out." Tetsuo said. Keita turned, surprised that he would speak up.

Tetsuo shrugged, a little uncomfortable with the attention.

"I mean," Tetsuo began, "we're high-leveled for the Floor. We've got Front-Liner grade weapons, so our damage output is way above our levels, and we've got a Front-Liner grade defensive spell, so our magic defense is also way above our levels. Even if we stumble across a field event with an event boss, if you think about it, we should still be good for it."

It was true, and it had occurred to Keita. Still, Tetsuo was usually pretty conservative about risk, so seeing him volunteer like this was a surprise.

Tetsuo was quiet, and had seemed content, so Keita hadn't considered if he was dissatisfied like Ducker or Sacchi. Maybe that had been unfair of Keita. He should try to do better in the future.

"Yeah, let's go for it." Sasamaru said, visibly warming to the idea.

Keita nodded turning to Ducker. "Do I even need to ask?" Keita asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ducker just chuckled, lowing his head in a half-nod.

That really left only one vote.

Sacchi frowned, looking thoughtful. "If... I think you're right." She said, after a long pause. She looked up. "Let's do it."

Keita nodded slowly. "Alright, let's go." He turned. "Ducker, lead the way."

Ducker nodded sharply, and then crouched down, pulling up the hood of his cloak as he turned, jogging forward with his body low. His outline blurred, wavering like the shadows of branches swaying in the wind. It wasn't full invisibility, but it was significantly cheaper in upkeep and a great deal more robust. Ducker spent most of his money buying Spellbooks for sneaking magic, so he had a lot of options.

They followed behind him, moving through the moonlit night.

The sudden silence was creepy, just the sound of wind through the branches of the forest they were hiking through, everything cast in black-and-white in the pale moonlight.

He heard it. It was just like the music that Sasamaru and Ducker had been describing.

It sounded far away, but it also sounded like it was on the other side of a thick wall.

Keita stiffened, and dropped down into a crouch as Sasamaru and Ducker moved ahead of him. Quickly, he typed up a PM and sent it to his guild, warning them what he suspected; that the music they were hearing had some kind of mental or spiritual effect, and to keep their Circuits open and active to help fight it off. If it wasn't for experiencing how the [Key of the Guild] interacted with that ghost's attack like a banshee's wail, he wouldn't have known.

He glanced around, and the three guildmembers he could see nodded, letting him know they had gotten his PM. Keita would just have to hope that Ducker saw it and listened. Since actively circulating prana disrupted all spells, it would degrade his camouflage magic.

They hiked through the woods, moving closer to the low, pulsing music. It was also moving, but at a slow walking pace.

They dipped down into a gully, and clambered up the side onto a mild ridge, when Ducker appeared in front of them, for all the world like he had just materialized there.

"Hey." He said. "You really need to check this out." Ducker's voice was urgent.

With a quick check on the rest of the guild, Keita nodded, and they moved more urgently, as fast as they could while still staying at least a little quiet, and reached the crest of the hill.

Keita frowned.

Marching through the woods was a shrouded figure. It was taller than a normal human, and looked like it was completely wrapped in black bandages. It's back was arched, a long tube like a simple recorder raised straight up into the air from where it's mouth maybe was, both arms holding it up. Despite not looking where it was going, it was confidently walking through the woods, without stumbling or tripping. Well, it didn't really look like it was actually putting it's weight on the ground, though.

That was weird enough, but what bothered him more was the children.

Following behind the strange musician were three children, two boys and a girl. They looked like elementary-schoolers.

It would have been bad enough if they were NPCs. But with their mismatched clothes that looked like modern pajamas, they were almost certainly Players.

Were they….

Were Retired children being dragged through the field at night by an event boss? Keita's breath stopped. This wasn't just an event boss. This was big. This was more than a Mid Liner like him could handle.

Keita urgently gestured, gathering his guild into a huddle.

"We need to tell Diabel." Keita led with his conclusion.

"Yeah." Tetsuo said, looking as troubled as Keita felt.

Ducker grunted in disagreement. "Not that!" He said. "We need to do something!"

Sasamaru sucked his air in through his teeth. "Should we tail them? So we can lead the Front Liners right too them?"

"That might be too late!" Ducker argued. "Didn't the Pied Pier drown the kids in a river? We can't let something like that happen!"

Keita grimaced. "Yeah." He agreed, heavily. "But... what if we attack, and those kids get caught in the middle? They could...." He didn't finish.

"They could die." Sacchi whispered, finishing the thought for him. "They could die, and that would be our fault."

Ducker groaned, kneeling down and grabbing his head. "So we split in two; half the party nabs the kids and drags them off, and the other half engages the mob."

"Split the party?" Tetsuo asked, dryly.

"I don't know." Ducker said. "But we can't just, we can't do nothing! Would Kirito stand by? Would he just let it happen while he sent for help?" Ducker leaned forward. "Listen. Kirito teaches us any Front-Liner class spell we can learn from him. And he hooked us up with Ranger-tier gear. Custom Ranger-tier, just for us!"

Ducker bit his lip, making a complex expression. "We have so many advantages. Kirito's done so much for us! Can you really look him in the eye if we don't use those advantages now? If we don't live up to Kirito now, then what the hell are we even doing with ourselves every day?"

Keita hadn't known. That Ducker felt like that. Keita felt like he had been underestimating his friend all this time, and only now saw the true depth of the person in front of him.

There was a long silence. No. None of them spoke, but that damned music was still playing so slow and so low behind them.

Tetsuo sighed, a long exhale. "When you put it like that...."

"You're right." Sacchi said, with a watery smile. "We absolutely can't let them die."

Sasamaru grinned, shaking his head. "So how are we going to handle this?"

Keita pursed his lips, mind racing as the guild, his guild, his friends, looked to him. "Let me think." He said, lowering his head, thoughts racing as he considered, eyes darting around.

"Alright." He said, looking up. "Here's what we'll do. Tetsuo, Sasamaru, Sacchi. Each of you, run down and grab one kid, and then run back here. If that mob doesn't follow you, great, then we'll make a break for town with the kids. If it does follow you, then you can draw it in for Ducker and I to ambush it with Countdown, okay?"

Keita looked for any objections, but they all smiled, nodding.

Keita grunted, and glanced down. "Tetsuo. Get the boy in front. Sasamaru, the girl in the middle, and Sacchi, you get the boy in the rear, okay?"

Keita glanced around, and pointed at the base of the slope they were standing on, and pointed. "There. See that forked tree and the big rock? Run between them. I'm not thrilled about having you run uphill, but it lets Ducker and I attack from higher ground."

"Any questions?" He asked, looking at his friends.

"Let's do it!" Ducker said, speaking for them.

"Right." Tetsuo nodded.

"Then let's not waste any more time." Keita said.

They all nodded.

"Then Ducker and I will get ready. You three, get ready to go on my mark."

After making sure they agreed, Keita sighed, breathing out and closing his eyes as he focused his mind, pressing his hands together.

He had eighteen swords, and Ducker had the nineteenth. They were all a little different, but they were each stamped with a number. Well, since Ducker's [Number] was eight though, he had the [Number Eight] in the series rather than the first or the last.

And Keita had the other eighteen swords.

Six were in his strongest Furniture, [Rumblecloset]. It did high DOT and bound the enemy, although there were problems if the mob was too big. Since Rumblecloset was his favorite, he always had it with him. For the remainder, he tended to build and rebuild his furniture into whatever was most appropriate for what they were doing.

Right now, the rest of his Furniture was deployed as a set; a kitchen table with four high-backed, armless wooden chairs. A dining room set, basically. The table had four swords, and each of the four chairs had two swords.

So... he arranged them, ordering them forward, putting them in different positions.

He moved quickly, aware that the longer he took, the farther his friends would have to run.

"Okay." He said. "Go."

Sasamaru, Tetsuo, and Sacchi each ran, sprinting forward.

Sasamaru pulled ahead while Tetsuo and Sacchi stayed together and Keita grimaced and wished he had remembered to tell them to keep pace with each other.

Still, Sasamaru almost tackled the girl, not even breaking stride as he body-checked her, flipping her up on his shoulder and peeling around to run back towards the appointed goal posts.

As expected Sacchi had the hardest time, having to stop and lift the dumb-founded boy onto her shoulders in a fireman's carry, while Tetsuo picked the second boy's legs, grabbing and pinning the kid against his chest by the thighs, using his shield like a backstop.

The music abruptly stopped, the strange bandage-wrapped mob no longer walking or playing.

Tetsuo and Sacchi ran, and Sasamaru took a quick glance behind him.

Keita's breath hitched as Sacchi stumbled.

The mob twisted without moving it's feet, and played a single note.

It was sharper. Angry. Like knives trying to drive into his mind.

But fortunately, he was still wearing his baseball helmet, so the knives just skittered and slid against the sides without getting inside his mind.

The mob turned, and started walking forward, slow but implacable, like a car that was slowly accelerating behind them. Like a car trying to run them down.

But as the mob drove forward along the road that they had set for it, it naturally went right through the traps that Keita had set for it.

Two chairs pounced, leaping out from the bushes. Their legs were loaded like springs, as they struck at the mob like snakes. From each chair, two swords whipped forward from the back, swinging out to slash at the mob as they attacked.

"Nineteen and Eighteen!" Keita shouted out loud, as the first one struck. The second followed a moment later, and he shouted again. "Seventeen, Sixteen!"

The mob turned when he yelled. It didn't lower it's arms to protect it's body as the chairs slashed at it's torso. The sword-blades passed between the bandages harmlessly, but enhanced with Ether they still struck the Astral Body, so the mob flinched each time it took damage.

But it walked forward, implacable, as it followed the guildmates carrying the kids.

And then the table came out. It was the kind of circular table you'd see in a kitchen, a round table of pale wood, with four legs. The way it moved was by rolling along the ground on the edge of the table proper, the feet of the table legs kicking off the ground each time.

And then as it closed, it swerved, sword-blades flicking out of each of the four legs as it came to a finish.

"Fifteen-fourteen-thirteen-twelve!" Keita called out, as the blades cut at the mob like a circular saw. The table circled around, slashing at the mob with each pass.

The mob deigned to react, releasing the flute from its mouth. The music stopped, and the silence was abrupt and somehow loud.

And in the negative space where the noise had ended, there was a sharp crack as the mob struck his table with its flute, using it as a light club.

The table was smashed, split in half from that simple blow, the two halves of the wheel spinning off in different directions and crashing into the brush.

If that kind of blow connected with their bodies…

Keita swallowed, but urged his last two chairs to attack.

"Eleven and ten!" He shouted, as the third chair burst from the trees around it, attacking the mob from the front.

Since it still had it
s flute equipped for melee, it counter-attacked, batting the chair aside and breaking it into scraps all in one blow. Still, the chair's attacks had connected, so Keita couldn't complain.

The fourth and last chair lunged from behind, stabbing both swords straight through the mob like snake-fangs.

"Nine! Eight!" Keita shouted, announcing what happened.

Instead of striking behind itself, though, the Mob raised its flute back to its mouth, and blew a note that was discordant, but somehow also clearly in a minor key.

Keita grimaced, eyes crossing in pain, as he felt the music attacking the connection he had with his furniture. Was it using the connection as a vein to pump poison into him, or was it plucking it like a guitar string to send harmful vibrations into his mind? Keita wasn't sure. Either way, the connection with the furniture broke even as he received damage, rendering it just an inert chair.

But he wasn't in the yellow yet. He could keep going. His trump card, his strongest servitor.

The Rumblecloset barged through the woods, bursting from among the trees, throwing open the doors on its front, exposing the preternatural darkness within.

Jagged and unnaturally-moving black threads burst forth, like tentacles, like the lines of fisherman cast into the sea. The hooks made contact on the body of the mob, the tentacles grasped, and they tried once again to drag the mob into that dark cavity, where it would be ground up and digested by the Rumblecloset.

But the mob was heavier than the closet, so rather than being pulled inside, the closet dragged itself over. Well, that was fine in its own way.

The Rumblecloset flew through the air, dragged by its strings towards the stumbling mob, where the closet attached to the side of the enemy like a barnacle.

The doors attempted to slam shut, battering against the sides of the mob like the shell of a clam.

Keita licked his lips, and continued to the Countdown of the Spell. "Seven! Sixfivefourthree! Two!" He shouted, guessing at the numbers as the Rumblecloset bared the swords inside itself, stabbing the enemy with the fangs of digestion that were hidden away inside it's stomach.

The mob screeched, sounding like it was in genuine pain for the first time, even as the HP bar above its head finally slid down into the Yellow Zone. No, it wasn't just a little bit in the yellow, it was actually closer to red than green, as the swords inside the closet continued to saw away.

And then that same note as before, like it was plucking the string, like it was poisoning his vein, and Keita groaned, collapsing to the ground as the connection with his Rumblecloset was severed, frayed, eaten, destroyed; it fell harmless and inert to the ground.

But Keita forced himself to his feet. "The last count." He announced. It wasn't part of the spell, but he could feel the mob's attention on him. He was tanking it, drawing all its attention, so it wouldn't see what was coming next.

"One." Ducker's voice came from over and behind the mob. He abruptly came into view above it. Tracing back the arc of his movement, he had climbed a tree and jumped out, arcing over and down onto the top of the mob, his [Invisibility] failing as he got closer.

And he swung out, the [Series Eight] cane-sword in his hand flashing like an arc of moonlight as he came down on the head of the mob.

[Countdown]. A ritual just for Ducker and Keita, bestowed on them by their Front Liner patron. A spell of Numerology, that built weight blow after blow as Keita's Furniture connected attacks, until Ducker delivered the finisher. It was the same logic as a fighting game, chaining attacks together until a finishing move. Keita piled up blow after blow with his Furniture, his Familiars. Their fangs, their swords, all came from the same Set, as they gnashed against the target like teeth set in the same jawbone.

And after being ground down by Keita's fangs, it was Ducker who possessed the final incisor. The last, final fang, which pierced through the enemy's defenses to deliver damage without regard to its protection. No, it wasn't that the defenses were pierced through, it was that Keita's familiars had peeled them back, like they had ground away the armor and exposed the flesh beneath, and all Ducker had to do was slide his fang through soft skin into the beating heart of the enemy.

That was the concept that underpinned their Countdown. Keita ritualistically prepared the ground, set the stage, so Ducker could step forward and deliver a guaranteed critical strike that stepped past all defenses.

Like a descending moon, that was how inevitable the pale light shining out from Ducker's freshly-drawn sword was.

And that cane-sword, didn't just part the ribbons as it slid along them. It sliced them. The thick black ribbons of the mob were split, frayed on the edges, bursting apart as they were sliced by Ducker's sword, even as the Astral Body was also carved in half by the descending blow.

Ducker pulled his sword lose, rolling as he hit the ground, pulling his shining sword free and sliding it smoothly back into the sheathe, hiding it as he rolled back, away from the mob.

It had only a fraction of health left.

It blew a great note. The last call, the final burst, more terrible than any noise yet. Even if he was wearing a baseball helmet, Keita couldn't deny the sheer loudness of the howling note the mob produced.

He fell. They all fell, they stumbled.

Ducker didn't fade away, his invisibility faltering before it even properly started, and he rolled on the ground, struggling to push himself away from the mob.

The monster's note ended, and it pulled the flute from it's mouth, raising it high over Ducker like a club.

Keita grit his teeth, struggling to force himself to move. If he could just tackle the mob, and throw it's blow off course!

"NO!" Sacchi screamed. It was like the death-wail of a banshee.

And an arc of ether throbbed out, an intense white blaze, the crescent shape of a sword swing.

The [Linker Beam] connected with the side of the mob, blowing it off course, shaving away another fraction of it's HP. It didn't have much left.

"Don't kill him!" Sacchi shouted, her voice desperate and raw. And another [Linker Beam] connected with the side of the mob, knocking it fully off balance.

The mob tumbled, landing clumsily on it's side.

And then it burst apart, flying away into pixels as it dissolved. Because it had run out of HP from Sacchi's attack.

They'd done it.

The [Black Cats] had won.

"Yeah!" Ducker shouted, raising his hand in victory.

Tetsuo was shouting. Sasamaru was shouting. Keita swept his eyes over them. Over the kids, that were blinking, looking so confused as whatever effect they were under ended. At Sacchi, blinking with a cute confused expression, amazed that her desperation had succeed.

They'd done it.

The [Black Cats] had saved those kids.

End

I I I

1) How can I put it? The Black Cats won, but it wasn't like they accomplished anything themselves, they were just proxies? That kind of subtext, let me know if it worked.

2) If you're wondering about how exactly it ended up with three kids getting out here… well, I'm planning to have Diabel recap in the next section, so I'm answering it there, not here. Let's see if that works.

3) I'm going out of town for the next two weeks on vacation starting tomorrow afternoon, so my ability to respond will be pretty limited. I wanted to get this out before that, so I might check threads, but not respond until I'm back, FYI.

EDIT:
4) Description of the [Countdown] Ritual was expanded.