I had to make sure that Asuna at least made her way into Agil’s party. I looked around for the axe-warrior’s distinct shape.
“Hey, you two. Good to see you again,” came a baritone voice from behind me. I turned around to see the very man I was looking for.
His craggy face split into a grin, the light shining off his bald head. “I hear you two have paired up. I guess I should congratulate you.”
“Um...we’re...”
Not a pair, I tried to say, but Asuna set the record straight. “We’re not a pair. It’s just a temporary partnership. Nice to see you, Agil.”
Agil smiled again and looked at me, raising an eyebrow. It was a cool gesture, but it felt as though he meant it in a consoling way. I hastily cleared my throat.
“Y-yes, well, um...that’s right. So I’m guessing we’re about to finalize the raid structure, since we’re almost at the absolute limit for eight parties...”
I was planning to ask them if they would take Asuna in their party, but again, I didn’t get the chance to finish. “Yeah, that’s what I came to ask you about, There are four of us, so why don’t you two join our group?”
It was such a breezy, careless invitation that I couldn’t help but hesitate.
“Um...well, that’s really generous of you, but are you sure? I mean, given my standing...”
Asuna sighed and Agil shrugged his shoulders and threw his hands. That gesture, combined with his appearance, was clearly not Japanese, but his command of the language was perfect, so there was a strange mixture of exoticism and familiarity about the man that made him both fascinating and charismatic.
“What do they call you, a beater? It’s only a tiny percent of people who actually call you that.”
Even the word beater sounded fresh and new coming from his lips. Most people, including me, pronounced it with a flat intonation, like cheater, but he stressed the bee and softened the ter, which made it almost sound like a cool title to have.
“We actually have our own nickname for you.”
“Really? What is it?” Asuna asked. Agil glanced at her and grinned.
“The Man in Black. Or Blackie.”
She snorted. I wasn’t exactly thrilled with that epithet–I hadn’t chosen the color of the coat I looted from the kobold boss–but even more startling to me was that she’d actually laughed. I peered into her hood in curiosity.
Asuna quickly composed her expression and gave me a familiar glare before continuing, “Thanks for the offer, Agil I suppose we’ll take you up on it–me and Blackie.”
“Oh, come on, you’re not going to run with that, are you?” I protested.
Asuna replied, “Blackie, as in, the prompters who wear all black during a play, right? Sounds perfect for a guy who hates being in the spotlight.”
“...Oh...I see. But that’s not exactly the same...”
“I mean, if you’d prefer that I just call you Mr. Kirito all the time, I can do that.”
“...Like I said, that’s not exactly the same...” Agil, who grinned as he watched our bickering, burst out laughing at that point. “If you two are that in tune, then I’m leaving the switch timing up to you. The four of us will focus on tanking, so you guys do the damage.”
He held out both hands, and Asuna shook his right, while I took the left. I bowed briefly to the other three behind him and received waves and thumbs-up in return. I hadn’t talked with them much at the first-floor boss battle, but they all seemed to be as good-natured as Agil.
I accepted Agil’s party request and noted the six HP bars lined up on the left side of my view, just as we hit fifteen minutes until the battle would begin. The noise of conversation died down toward the front, so I turned to see that two players were now standing before the massive doors to the boss’s chamber.
One of them was Lind, decked out in silver armor, blue cape, and scimitar at his waist. The other was Kibaou, with his dark armor and moss-green jacket. “Ugh, not another double-leader situation,” I groaned. “Isn’t there only one leader by definition within the system?” Asuna asked.
“That’s a good point...”
As if sensing our confusion, Lind raised a hand and spoke loudly to the group. Unlike the area outside the first-floor boss chamber, this was a safe zone, so there was no fear of tauruses coming to investigate the noise.
“Well, it’s time. Let’s start forming the raid! First, an introduction: I’m Lind, chosen to be your leader today. Greetings, everyone!”
Before I could even wonder how Kibaou would willingly give up control, the cactus-headed man interjected, “Only chosen ‘cuz ya won a coin flip.”
Half the gathering laughed at this, while the other half looked upset. Lind shot Kibaou a dirty glare, but he did not respond to the bait.
“...The fact that we’re already here, just ten days after opening this floor, is a testament to your skill and dedication! If you lend me your help, there’s no way we can fail to beat this boss! Let’s finish the day on the third floor!”
He raised a fist, and all of those who didn’t laugh at Kibaou’s jibe roared in approval.
With his rousing speech and long hair, formerly brown but now dyed blue, Lind seemed to be fully accepting the role of Diavel’s heir. I couldn’t help but feel that here and there, hints of self-consciousness that his predecessor never displayed peeked through the facade.
“Now let’s form the raid! Of the eight parties, the Dragon Knights will form teams A, B, and C. Kibaou’s Liberation Squad will make up teams D, E, and F, and team G will be Orlando’s Braves. And team H...”
He looked to us in the very back. For an instant, his breezy smile seemed to vanish when his eyes met mine, but he looked past me just as quickly.
“...will be the rest of you. Teams A through F will concentrate on the boss, while G and H handle the mobs...”
This news did not come as a surprise to me. What was surprising, however, was the voice that spoke up in response.
“Hang on just a moment.”
It wasn’t Agil and certainly wasn’t Asuna. It was the leader of the group of five on the far wall: Orlando.
When he spoke, the eyes staring out from beneath his bascinet visor were just as piercing as when they’d nearly seen through my hiding ability outside the bar.
“We’re here to fight the boss. If you want us to rotate around, I might understand, but we’re not going to just hang back and deal with mobs.”
His brassy voice echoed off the walls and died out, the ensuing lull filled by the fevered murmuring of the blue and green players. I could make out mutters of “Who do they think they are?” and “Bloody newcomers.”
Then it all clicked into place for me.
With the disappearance of Nezha, Orlando and his team had just lost a huge source of income. This was their chance to leap out to the head of the clearers. The money earned by the raid party was equally shared between all members, but the experience points and skill boosts were not. The enormous store of experience points the boss was worth would be distributed by the amount of damage done (or blocked), and the skill proficiency gained by attacking a powerful enemy was far beyond that of a normal foe. None of that went to them if they didn’t attack the boss directly.
The five Braves had upgraded their equipment to about the maximum it could be at this point, but their player levels were below the average of the raid. They probably saw this boss battle as the best chance to close that gap.
And yet, disagreeing with the raid leader’s orders wasn’t going to get them anywhere. The scene could have easily turned into an ugly shouting match, but the blue and green players didn’t let it get any worse than whispers.
I suspected that was due to the powerful aura the Legend Braves were exuding. Level, stats, and skill proficiency were all hidden variables not exposed to the public–but equipment power was different. Weapons and armor augmented close to the limit began to glow with a depth that reinforced their value.
>
At the present moment, the best any player–including me–could do was upgrade their weapon, and perhaps their shield, to that glowing state. But the Braves were a different story. With the massive sum of col they reaped in the past week, they’d been able to buy full sets of excellent equipment and power it all up. All of their gear was glowing as if under a powerful buff spell, and it created the strong impression that these five men were not to be trifled with.
Of course, equipment strength was not all there was in the game. More important than anything in SAO was personal experience and the ability to react and adjust. But in the battle ahead against Baran the General Taurus, every value was important–especially armor strength.
This was because General Baran used an elite version of the taurus races special attack...
“All right. In that case, team G can join the fight against the boss,” Lind said stiffly. I looked up and found myself staring right into the blue-haired man’s eyes again.
While his hairstyle might have been the same as the one worn by breezy affable Diavel, Lind seemed to have a significantly more obstinate side to him. He held my gaze this time and said, “According to our prior intelligence, the boss only has one accompanying mob that does not re-pop. I trust team H will be able to handle that alone?”
Asuna and I sucked in a sharp breath, our hackles raised, but team leader Agil waved a hand to calm us. His voice and manner stayed perfectly calm.
“It might be one monster, but the intel says that it’s not your average mob, but more of a mid-level boss on its own. Plus, maybe it’s only the one, but we don’t know that for sure. That’s a lot to ask of a single party.”
The prior intelligence they were referring to was, of course, the second-floor boss edition of Argo’s strategy guide, which appeared just yesterday in Taran. It held the attack patterns and weak points of the boss and its attendant mob, but as the disclaimer on the cover said, all information was based on the beta test.
The first-floor boss used katana skills that hadn’t been there in the beta, and it led to the death of Diavel the knight. We had to assume that there were alterations since the beta here, as well. In a worst-case scenario, there might be two or more of “Nato the Colonel Taurus” accompanying Baran instead of just one.
But Lind actually agreed with Agil’s rebuttal.
“Of course, I have no intention of repeating the mistakes of the first floor. If we spot any difference in the patterns listed in our prior intelligence, we will immediately retreat and rethink our plan. If the attendant mob is too much for one party to handle, we’ll send another team to help. Will that do?”
It was about as much as we could hope for at this stage. Agil murmured in the affirmative, and Asuna and I let out the breaths we’d been holding in.
Next came a review of the boss’s attack patterns and a final check of each team’s individual strategy, leaving just two minutes until the scheduled fight time of two o’clock. That was only a general guideline, so nothing was stopping us from beginning the fight slightly before or after the hour.
Lind raised his hand and said, “All right, it’s a bit early, but...”
Suddenly, he was cut off by a familiar phrase from Kibaou, who had, somewhat surprisingly, kept quiet this entire time.
“Now, hang on just a sec!”
“...What is it, Kibaou?”
“You been basin’ everything on this strategy guide so far, Lind. Now, all this info is comin’ from the info dealer who ain’t even been in the boss room, right? Is that really good enough for us?”
Lind’s mouth twisted in displeasure. “I won’t claim that it’s perfect, but it’s better than nothing, isn’t it? What’s your alternative? Are you going to walk in there to check out the boss for yourself?”
Now it was the green-clad Liberation Squad that bristled in anger, but Kibaou simply smiled confidently.
“What I’m sayin’ is, we know we got at least one person here who’s seen this boss for himself. So why don’t we get his take on it?”
What?
I took a step back and to the left, to hide behind Asuna. But Kibaou lifted his right hand and pointed straight at me. Dozens of eyes turned in my direction, and Asuna callously stepped aside to avoid them.
“Whaddaya say, Black Beater? Why don’cha offer us some advice on this boss battle?” he bellowed. I couldn’t read his expression to see what he was really thinking.
“...What does he think he’s doing?” I muttered quietly, but Asuna could only shrug.
I’d heard that Kibaou’s Aincrad Liberation Squad rallied around a resistance to the former beta testers. As a means to compete with the testers who rushed out to monopolize the game’s best resources, they aggressively recruited new members from the thousands left down in the Town of Beginnings, distributed money and items fairly, planned to conquer the game through sheer numbers. At least, according to Kibaou’s theory.
So what did he stand to gain by giving a known ex-tester a platform? You’d think it was clearly some kind of trap...but there was something in the cactus-haired swordsman’s eyes that could be taken as honest fervor.
If that look’s an act, yer one helluva actor, I muttered to myself. One, two, three steps forward, and I had a proper view of every face in the raid.
“Let me just make this dear. I only know the boss from the beta test as well. So it’s totally possible that something...or everything about this boss has been changed.”
As I spoke, the muttering players eventually fell silent. Even Lind, who I figured would interrupt, did not speak.
“But I can say that the regular tauruses in the labyrinth use the exact same attacks that they did in the beta. So I think it’s a certainty that the boss will use sword skills that are an extension of that pattern. As you just discussed, you want to evade when he goes into his motion, but what’s most important is how to react when you take the first hit. Avoid getting hit with double debuffs at all costs. In the beta, every player that got stunned and then paralyzed...”
Pretty much died, I stopped myself from saying.
“At any rate, if you stay calm and watch his hammer, you can avoid the second hit. As long as we all take that into account, this lineup can beat the boss without any casualties.”
Nothing I said couldn’t be found in Argo’s guide, but virtually all the players present nodded in understanding when I was done.
As usual, Kibaou’s expression was a cipher to me, but Lind had a look of surprise. He clapped his hands briskly. “All right, everyone: Avoid the second hit! Now let’s get started!”
He turned around and faced the giant set of doors and loudly drew his scimitar, holding it aloft.
“We’re going to crush the second-floor boss!!”
The dim corridor shook with the roar of the gathering.
Blue hair waving, his left hand pushing the door open, Lind looked very much like Diavel had in that same exact moment back on the first floor.
12
Monster attacks against players fell under two general categories. One was direct attacks that dealt HP damage.
The other was indirect attacks that did not cause direct damage but occasionally posed a significant threat, in other words, debuffs.
Akihiko Kayaba, the designer of this game of death, at least had a minimum of sympathy for new players, for he did not grant any of the kobolds in the first-floor labyrinth debuff attacks. The delay effect that led to Diavel’s death was a debuff, in a way, but it was an effect that occurred at a high likelihood when suffering multiple consecutive attacks, and wasn’t a special skill that the kobold lord could use at will.
Which meant that the tauruses that dwelt in the second-floor labyrinth were the player’s first real experience with serious, regular debuffs.
“Here it comes!” I cried, recognizing that the double-handed hammer was being lifted straight aloft.
The rest of my party called out their acknowledgment and jumped ba
ckward. The hammer stopped high overhead for an instant, its wide surface glowing with brilliant yellow sparks.
“Vrrroooooo!!”
With a roar so fierce, it might as well have been a long-range attack of its own, the beast brought down the hammer. The mass of metal, rippling with lightning, slammed against the dark stone floor. It was the taurus face’s special debuffing skill, Numbing Impact.
No one was standing within the direct damage range of the blow, of course, but there were also narrow sparking tendrils that extended out from the impact point. One of them shot toward me along the floor, fading out, until it just barely licked the end of my boot.
Instantly, I felt an unpleasant prickle at my toes. Fortunately, I was just outside of the debuff range, so there was no stun icon showing beneath my HP bar. Everyone else kept farther away from the shockwave, so none of them were affected.
“Full-power attack!” I shouted, and the six of us fanned out in a semicircle around the taurus and closed. Each person unleashed the strongest sword skill in their weapons repertoire. Agil’s two-handed axe, his crewmates’ similar weapons, Asuna’s Wind Fleuret, and my Anneal Blade blasted the beast with an array of colored lights. The bull-man’s three-part HP gauge finally emptied its first bar and opened the second.
“I think we can do this!” Asuna shouted from her familiar position to my left.
“Yeah, just don’t get overconfident! Once we get to the third bar, he’ll start using consecutive numbing attacks! Plus,” I raised my voice to ensure that Agil’s group heard me, “based on the first-floor battle, we should assume there might be a new attack when we hit that last bar! If that happens, we all pull back!”
“Got it!”
The taurus recovered from its delay at the same time our skill cooldown ended. Agil’s tanks recognized that the next attack would be a sideways blow and took defensive stances along its trajectory. Asuna and I hung back, waiting for the right moment to counter.