Aincrad 2

  “We can’t do this, Kirito…we’ve got to run!” Silica pleaded, squeezing her crystal. Rosalia was right; no matter how tough Kirito was, he couldn’t beat a dozen opponents. But he didn’t budge. He didn’t even draw his sword.

  Taking that as a sign of resignation, the nine orange players aside from Rosalia and the spiky-haired man plunged forward, screeching war cries. Their boots pounded on the bridge.

  “Raaah!”

  “Dieeee!!”

  They formed a semicircle around the motionless Kirito, hacking and jabbing his body with their swords and spears all at once. He wobbled and lurched with the impact of nine weapons.

  “Noooo!” Silica screamed, covering her face with her hands. “Stop! Stop it! He…he’s going to die!!”

  But of course the men were deaf to her pleas.

  They were drunk with violence, some laughing maniacally, some jeering insults, but they all continued raining down blows on Kirito. Even Rosalia, who had walked up to the middle of the bridge, wore a look of unbridled glee, sucking on her finger as she took in the slaughter.

  Silica wiped her tears and gripped the hilt of her dagger. She knew that jumping into the fight would do absolutely nothing, but she couldn’t watch it any longer. But just as she was about to leap forward, she noticed something and pulled up short.

  Kirito’s HP bar hadn’t moved a bit.

  No, that wasn’t quite accurate. The ceaseless blows were doing damage, but only a few tiny pixels were coming off his bar, and every few seconds, it would shoot back to full again.

  Eventually, the bandits realized that their assault was having no effect and stopped, confused.

  “What are you doing? Hurry up and kill him!”

  At Rosalia’s irritated order, the rain of blows began anew, but again there was no apparent effect.

  “Wh…what’s going on with this guy…?”

  One of the bandits stumbled backward, his face twisted at the sight of something unnatural. The hesitation spread, and the other eight eventually stopped attacking and kept their distance.

  A silence fell upon the bridge. At the center of it, Kirito slowly raised his head. His voice was soft.

  “Four hundred points in ten seconds—that’s the total damage the nine of you combined to inflict on me. My level is seventy-eight, and I have fourteen thousand, five hundred hit points. With my Battle Recovery skill, I automatically regain six hundred points every ten seconds. You could attack me for hours and never win.”

  The men looked on in stunned silence. Finally, the greatsword-wielder who seemed to lead the rest of them spoke, voice gravelly.

  “That…that can’t be possible…It’s crazy…”

  “Exactly,” Kirito spat in reply. “But all it takes is an increase in certain numbers to make the crazy possible. That’s the inherent unfairness of level-based MMOs at work!”

  His voice, dark with some barely contained emotion, caused the men to falter. The looks on their faces went from shock to fear.

  “Tsk!” Rosalia clicked her tongue and grabbed a teleport crystal from her waist. She held it high and said, “Teleport—”

  But before she could finish, the air rippled audibly, and Kirito was standing right next to her.

  “Aaah!”

  He snatched the crystal out of her tensed fingers, grabbed her collar, and started dragging her back to the other side of the bridge.

  “L-let me go! What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

  Kirito silently tossed Rosalia into the midst of the frozen men, then jammed his hand into the pouch on his waist. He pulled out a blue crystal, but it was a much deeper color than the blue of a teleport crystal.

  “This is a corridor crystal, which took all the money my client had. It’s set to exit into the prison of Blackiron Palace. You’re all going to jail. The Army will see to you once you’re there.”

  Rosalia bit her lip for several seconds, then spoke up, a confident smirk on her red lips.

  “And if I say no?”

  “I’ll kill every last one of you.”

  Her smile froze.

  “At least, I’d want to…but in reality, I’ll have to use this.”

  Kirito pulled a small dagger out from under his cloak. On closer look, it seemed to be coated in some light green substance.

  “It’s a paralysis poison. Level 5, so you won’t be moving for quite some time. It’ll certainly last long enough for me to toss every one of you into the corridor. So there’s your choice: walk in on your own or get thrown in.”

  There was no bravado left in the group. They hung their heads silently, so Kirito put the dagger away and held up the deep blue crystal.

  “Corridor open!”

  The crystal shattered and a vortex of blue light appeared.

  “Damn it…”

  The tall ax-wielder slumped his shoulders and stepped in first. The remaining orange players followed him, some spitting a final curse before they went. The green eavesdropper walked in as well, leaving only Rosalia behind.

  The redheaded thief still boldly refused to budge, even after all of her companions had disappeared into the portal. She sat cross-legged, glaring up at Kirito defiantly.

  “If you’re going to do it, do it. But if you attack a green player, you’ll be oran—”

  Before she could finish, Kirito grabbed her by the collar again.

  “I’m a solo player, you know. One or two days of being orange means nothing to me.”

  And he yanked her up, dragging her toward the gate. Now Rosalia was struggling, flapping her limbs in vain.

  “W-wait, stop, stop! Forgive me! Please! I…I know—why don’t we team up? With your skill, we could take down any guild—”

  But she never had the chance to finish. Kirito shoved her headfirst into the corridor, and a few moments after she disappeared, the corridor flashed brighter and winked out of existence.

  A lonely quiet arrived in their wake.

  The birds twittered and streams burbled as though the raucous confrontation had never happened. But Silica couldn’t move. She was filled with conflicting emotions—the shock at Kirito’s identity, the relief that the bandits were gone—and she just couldn’t open her mouth.

  Kirito turned to look at her for several silent moments, then spoke in barely more than a whisper.

  “I’m sorry, Silica. I used you like bait. I was thinking of telling you the truth about me…but I thought you’d be frightened.”

  Silica could only shake her head in vigorous denial. A whirlwind of conflicting feelings was tearing up her insides.

  “I’ll take you back to town,” he said, starting over the bridge. She called out to his back.

  “I…I can’t walk.”

  He turned around, laughing lightly, and offered a hand. Only when she squeezed it back did Silica find the strength to smile again.

  They were silent nearly the entire way back to the Weathervane on the thirty-fifth floor. She had plenty of things to say, but Silica felt like her throat was stuffed with tiny pebbles.

  When they reached Kirito’s room on the second floor, the sun through the window was already red with dusk. When she gazed upon his silhouette, black against the sunset, she finally summoned a trembling voice.

  “Are you really…going to leave, Kirito?”

  There was silence. Eventually, the silhouette nodded.

  “Yes…I’ve been away from the front line for five days now. I have to return to clearing the game…”

  “Right…of course…”

  What she really wanted to say was, Take me with you!

  But she couldn’t.

  Kirito’s level was 78. She was level 45. That was a 33-level gap. The distance that separated them was cruelly stark. If Kirito took her to where he was fighting, she’d be slaughtered by the first monster they met. The wall that separated them in this game was taller and thicker than any found in the real world.

  “…I…”

  Silica bit her lip, trying desperately
to hold back the emotions that threatened to burst out of her. That turned into a pair of tears that trailed down her cheeks.

  Suddenly, she felt Kirito’s hands on her shoulders. He whispered to her, calm and low.

  “Level is just a number. The strength we gain here is only an illusion, Silica. There are things much more important to be found. The next time we meet, it’ll be in the real world. We can be friends again there.”

  She wanted to throw herself against the black swordsman’s chest. Yet Kirito’s calming words soothed the painful wrenching of her heart somewhat. She told herself that she wouldn’t ask for any more than this, and she closed her eyes.

  “Yes. I’m sure we will—I’m sure we will.”

  She stepped back, looked up at him, and was finally able to give him a smile with all of her heart. He grinned in return and said, “C’mon, let’s bring Pina back.”

  “Finally!”

  Silica nodded and waved open her main window. She scrolled through her inventory, found Pina’s Heart, and materialized it.

  After placing the pale blue feather on top of the table, she produced the Pneuma Flower.

  Crimson flower in hand, Silica looked up to Kirito.

  “Just sprinkle the dew inside the flower, onto the feather. That will bring Pina back.”

  “Got it…”

  She gazed at the long blue feather and gave a silent speech.

  Pina…there are so, so many things to tell you. About my incredible adventure…and the man who saved me—my big brother for a day.

  And with tears in her eyes, Silica tilted the flower over the feather.

  (The End)

  Warmth of the Heart

  48th floor of Aincrad June 2024

  The workshop was filled with a pleasing sound: the slow churning of a giant water wheel.

  It was a modestly sized home for a crafter, but the water wheel made it expensive. When I first spotted the house in the initial rush into Lindarth, the main town of the forty-eighth floor, I thought, This is the one! Then I saw the price tag and my jaw dropped.

  From that point on, I worked myself to the bone, even taking out multiple loans at once. In just two months, I raised the three million col I needed. If this were happening in real life, I’d be covered in muscles, and my right hand would have thick calluses from swinging a hammer so much.

  But it was all worth it when I beat out my rivals to purchase the deed, turning this little watermill into Lisbeth’s Armory. It all happened three months ago, on a chilly day for spring.

  1

  After a rushed morning coffee—thank goodness this exists in Aincrad—serenaded by the music of the water wheel’s rhythmic thumping, I changed into my blacksmith’s uniform, inspecting myself in the full-length mirror on the wall.

  Though I considered it a uniform, it was closer to a waitress outfit than heavy smithing garb. There was a cypress-brown top with puffed sleeves and a flared skirt in the same tone. I wore a white apron over that, with a red ribbon on the chest.

  The outfit wasn’t my own design. A friend of mine had arranged it, another girl the same age who often visited the shop to buy equipment. She claimed that heavy clothes didn’t suit my baby face, and while I’d originally wanted her to mind her own business, it was true that my business had doubled since I started wearing this. So while it wasn’t really my first choice, I’d been using it ever since.

  Her advice didn’t stop at clothes. She fiddled with my hair at every opportunity—it was currently set to an aggressively pink color in a short cut. Once again, though, the reactions from others suggested that it was working for me.

  I’m Lisbeth the blacksmith, and I was fifteen when I first logged in to SAO. People thought I was younger than I looked back in the real world, and that pattern only grew more pronounced here. What I saw in the mirror was pink hair, large eyes with dark blue irises, and a petite nose and mouth that, combined with the apron dress, made me look like a little doll.

  I was a serious student in the real world with little interest in fashion, which only made the dichotomy stronger. Even though I’ve gotten used to my new look recently, my personality has always been the same. Every once in a while, I can’t help but snap at a customer, which always elicits shock.

  I double-checked my equipment and exited the store, flipping over the CLOSED sign. I flashed the players waiting for entrance a dazzling smile and said, “Good morning, and welcome!” This was another thing I’d only recently gotten used to doing.

  It had always been a dream of mine to run my own business, but even inside a video game, dreams and reality are very different beasts. I’d had more than enough experience with the difficulty of meeting customer demand from the moment I started selling in the street and living out of an inn bedroom.

  My first lesson: If you’re not good at smiling, make up for it with quality. In retrospect, the decision to focus on raising my Weaponcrafting skill at the expense of everything else was a wise one, as many of my repeat customers vouched for the quality of my weapons, even after I moved into my permanent storefront.

  After I greeted all the customers, I left the business end up to my NPC employee and retreated into the workshop behind the storefront. I had about ten orders for custom equipment that needed to be fulfilled within the day.

  Pulling the lever on the wall activated the bellows hooked up to the water wheel. That sent air into the furnace and set the grindstone spinning. I pulled an expensive metal ingot out of my inventory and tossed it into the burning furnace. Once it had absorbed enough heat, I pulled it out with tongs and set it atop the anvil. I got down on one knee, favorite hammer in hand, and selected the item to be produced from a pop-up menu. After a specified number of whacks with the hammer, the metal would turn into the desired item. There wasn’t really any technique to it; the quality of the finished weapon would vary at random, but I chose to believe that the concentration of the blacksmith during the process affected the result. So I focused all my nerves on the ingot as I slowly raised the hammer. Just as I was about to strike the very first blow—

  “Morning, Liz!”

  “Aaah!”

  The door of the workshop slammed open and my swing went wide. Instead of the ingot, I hit the corner of the anvil. Sparks flew everywhere as a pathetic clang echoed throughout the room.

  I looked up to see the surprise intruder scratching her head and sticking out her tongue in guilty embarrassment.

  “Sorry! I’ll be more careful about that.”

  “How many times have I heard that one before? At least it happened before I actually started working on anything this time.”

  I stood up with a sigh and tossed the metal back into the furnace. Turning around with my hands on my hips, I looked up at my visitor, who was just a bit taller than me.

  “Good morning, Asuna.”

  Asuna the fencer was a good friend and loyal customer. She wound her way through the now-familiar workshop and plopped into a round chair of unfinished wood, then flicked her shoulder-length chestnut hair with her fingertips. Every motion was as pristine as a movie star’s, and despite having known her for many months, I couldn’t help but admire her grace each and every time.

  I sat myself in the chair next to the anvil and hung my hammer on the wall.

  “So what’s happening today? You’re here early.”

  “Oh, I need this done.”

  She pulled the rapier off her belt, scabbard and all, and tossed it to me. I caught it one-handed and drew it out enough to check the blade. Its typical sheen was dulled with use, but the edge was still sharp.

  “This isn’t that bad at all. Seems a bit early to have it sharpened.”

  “Yeah, I know, but I want it to be shiny.”

  “Oh?”

  I looked at Asuna again. She was wearing the same old knight’s uniform of white with red crosses and a miniskirt, but her boots looked shiny and new, and there were small silver earrings sparkling in her ears.

  “Okay, something’s weir
d. This is a normal weekday. What happened to your mandated guild activity quota? I thought you said progress was slow on the sixty-third floor.”

  She smiled shyly at my question. “Actually, I got the day off. I’m going to meet someone after this…”

  “Ohh~?”

  I dragged the chair several clattering steps closer to Asuna.

  “Tell me more. Who are you meeting?”

  “I-it’s a secret!” she stammered, blushing slightly. I folded my arms and nodded.

  “I see…No wonder you’ve been so cheerful lately. You’ve finally found a boyfriend.”

  “Th-that’s not it at all!” Now her face was really red. She coughed and gave me a sidelong glance. “Am I…really that different from normal…?”

  “Of course. When I first met you, all you cared about was labyrinths this, conquest that! I thought you were a bit obsessed, honestly, but you’ve changed since the spring. I mean, I could never imagine you skipping out on your game-clearing on a weekday before.”

  “I see…Maybe he is rubbing off on me…”

  “So who is it? Someone I know?”

  “I don’t…think so…but maybe?”

  “Bring him next time.”

  “I swear, it’s not like that! I mean…it’s totally one-sided…”

  “Really!”

  This time I was truly stunned. Asuna was the sub-leader of the strongest guild in the game, the Knights of the Blood, and one of the most beautiful women in Aincrad. There were as many men who courted her as stars in the sky, but I’d never imagined the opposite would happen.

  “I don’t know. He’s very strange,” she said, gazing into the distance. A slight smile played across her lips. If this were a manga for girls, there would be an explosion of roses in the background.

  “It’s really hard to get a handle on him. It’s like he goes to the beat of his own drum…but he’s incredibly powerful.”

  “Oh? More than you?”

  “Way more. I wouldn’t last for a minute in a head-to-head duel.”

  “Well, well. This narrows down the list of names.”