It made sense that you could recreate the action. When I visited Gun Gale Online, which was based around gun-fighting, I managed to make my way through a few very sticky fights by using sword skills. But that was only by retracing my avatar movements—there were no flashes of light or system-assisted acceleration. It simply wasn’t a gameplay system there.

  But the Underworld fully facilitated sword skills. Make the designated motion and envision the movement of the entire skill, and then the sword would flash and speed away. On our first day of training, I was worried that I might be the only one capable of doing this, but by the second afternoon, Eugeo executed his first successful Horizontal, proving that any citizen could use sword skills if they fulfilled the requirements.

  The problem was why it worked. There couldn’t be any connection between Rath’s STL virtual-reality Underworld and the late Argus’s SAO game. If anything, perhaps the answer lay in the man who’d brought me this fishy job with Rath and had once been part of the government’s SAO task force…

  “That can’t be,” I muttered to myself as I took on a second skewer. If my imagination was correct, then he wasn’t just a go-between but someone inextricably linked to the core of all these events.

  But there was no way to figure out any of that from here. I’d have to leave Rulid and go to the central city, far to the south, to gain more information.

  The biggest impediment to the plan had just been cut down. There was only one thing left to do.

  I finished off the meat and vegetables on the skewer and called out to my partner, who was watching the villagers from his seat across the table.

  “Hey, Eugeo…”

  “Uh…what is it?”

  “After this—”

  But a high-pitched shout interrupted me.

  “Aha, here you are! What is the star of the festival doing sitting over here?!”

  It took some time for me to recognize that the girl with her hands on her hips was Selka. Instead of her usual braids and black sister’s habit, she had her hair tucked behind a headband and wore a red vest and green skirt.

  “Uh, well…I’m no good at dancing,” Eugeo mumbled.

  I shook my head and hand as well. “And I’ve got memory loss…”

  “It will come back to you once you try it!”

  Her little hands grabbed ours and launched us out of our seats. Selka dragged the two of us to the middle of the square and pushed us forward. A cheer erupted from the crowd, and we were swallowed into the midst of the dance.

  Fortunately, it was no more complex than the dances at the school sports festivals, and by the time they’d switched through three partners, I was getting the hang of it. Moving my body to the simplistic rhythm started being fun, and my feet got into the act.

  The more I danced with the laughing, red-cheeked girls with features somewhere between Eastern and Western, the more I fell under the strange suspicion that maybe I really was a wanderer who had lost his memory.

  In fact, I had danced in a VR world before, with the sylph warrior Leafa, the Alfheim avatar of my sister, Suguha. I saw her smile on my dancing partner’s face and felt something inside my nose sting.

  A rush of keen homesickness overcame me. Meanwhile, the music sped up to a manic pace, then abruptly ended. I looked at the musicians and saw that the stage next to them now featured an imposing old man with a majestic beard. It was Gasfut, elder of Rulid and Selka’s father.

  He clapped his hands and spoke in a strong baritone.

  “My fellows! Please forgive the interruption, but you must hear me!”

  The villagers raised their mugs of ale and apple liquor in a cheer, quenched their dance-induced thirst, then fell silent. The elder looked out over the crowd.

  “The deepest desire of our founding ancestors has been fulfilled at last! The devil tree that stole the blessings of Terraria and Solus in the fertile land to the south has been felled! We will have fresh new barley and bean fields and grazing pastures for our cattle and sheep!”

  Cheers drowned out his speech. He held up his hands, waiting for quiet to return.

  “I call forth the one who achieved this feat—Eugeo, son of Orick!”

  He beckoned to a corner of the square, where a nervous-looking Eugeo stood. The short man next to him must have been his father, Orick. Aside from the hair color, they looked totally unalike, and he appeared more confused than proud.

  Eugeo proceeded forward at the urging of the other villagers, not his father. He rose next to the elder and turned to the crowd. The third and largest cheer yet erupted. I clapped, too, not to be outdone.

  “In accordance with our rules,” the elder began, and the village fell silent, “for completing his Calling, Eugeo is granted the right to choose his next Calling! He may continue as a woodcutter, or plow the fields after his father, or tend to cattle, or brew ale, or do business, or whatever he chooses!”

  What was that?!

  I felt the afterglow of the dance rapidly fading.

  This was no time to be holding hands and dancing with girls. I should have been giving Eugeo one final pep talk. If he announced he would start growing grain, my plan would be completely ruined.

  I watched him with bated breath. He looked down, uncomfortable, scratching his head with one hand and clenching and unclenching the other. I began to wonder if I should rush the stage, put an arm around his shoulders, and announce that we were off to see the big city—until I heard a small voice at my side.

  “Eugeo’s…going to leave the village…”

  Selka had come to stand next to me at some point. There was a faint smile of both sadness and happiness on her lips.

  “Y-you think so?”

  “I know so. Why else would he hesitate to give his answer?”

  As if he heard her, Eugeo’s hand reached down to grip the hilt of the Blue Rose Sword at his waist. He looked up, first at the elder, then at the rest of the village, and stated clearly and loudly, “I’m going…to be a swordsman. I will join the garrison at Zakkaria, train my skills, and one day reach Centoria.”

  After a few moments of silence, little waves of murmuring broke out. It didn’t seem to me to be adulation. The adults were craning their necks toward one another, muttering darkly. Eugeo’s father and two other young men who I took to be his brothers looked more pained than anything.

  Once again, it was Gasfut who brought order. He lifted a hand to silence the crowd, and with a stern expression, he said, “Eugeo, surely you don’t…”

  Then he paused and stroked his long beard. “No…I will not ask why. It is your church-given right to choose your next Calling. Very well—as elder of Rulid, I recognize that the new Calling for Eugeo, son of Orick, is a swordsman. If you wish, you may leave the village and train in the sword.”

  I heaved a long sigh of relief. Now I would be able to witness the core of this world with my own eyes. If Eugeo had chosen to remain a farmer, I was prepared to head out on my own, but with a lack of knowledge or resources, I couldn’t say how many months or years my trip would take. A weight left my shoulders as my concerns of the last few days evaporated.

  The villagers seemed to have accepted their elder’s decision, and they began a hesitant round of applause. But before it could swell any louder, a sharp bellow cut across the night sky.

  “Not so fast!”

  A large young man strode through the crowd and leaped on the stage.

  He had rough features and short hair the dull brown of dead leaves. But the simple longsword at his left side was what stuck out to me first. It was the guard who always stood watch at the southern waypoint of the village.

  He puffed out his chest as a challenge to Eugeo and shouted, “It is my right first and foremost to seek employment in Zakkaria’s garrison! Eugeo cannot be the first to leave the village ahead of me!”

  “Yeah! He’s right!” came a follow-up shout from a man behind him. He had the same color hair as the youngster but was much older and larger around the middle.
r />   “Who’s that?” I asked Selka. She made a face.

  “That’s Doik, the old head guard, and his son, Zink, who has the position now. Their family likes to claim they’re the most experienced in the village.”

  “Ah, I see…”

  I wondered what was going to happen now. Gasfut listened to Zink and his father and raised a hand to calm them down. “But Zink, you have only been at your man-at-arms Calling for six years. According to the laws, you cannot enter the dueling tournament in Zakkaria for another four.”

  “Then Eugeo should wait for four years, too! He’s not as good at the sword as I am! It makes no sense that he should go first!”

  “Mmm. Then how will you prove this claim that you are superior to Eugeo in skill?”

  “Wha…!”

  Zink and his father both went red in the face. The elder of the two was nearly steaming from the ears as he bellowed, “I won’t stand for such an insult, even from the elder of Rulid! If you’re telling me that a mere woodcutter can swing a faster sword than my son, then let’s have them prove it right here and now!”

  A few irresponsible villagers shouted, egging him on. Sensing that there was more entertainment to come from this impromptu festival, they raised their mugs and stomped their feet, crowing about a duel.

  To my astonishment, within moments Zink had challenged Eugeo to a duel, which Eugeo could not very well refuse. A space before the stage was cleared away, and they faced off. In disbelief, I turned to whisper into Selka’s ear, “I’ll be right back.”

  “Wh-what are you going to do?”

  I didn’t answer. Instead, I made my way through the crowd in the direction of the fountain and raced up to Eugeo. While his opponent was as unruly and indignant as a bronco, Eugeo seemed more confused that it had come to this. His features relaxed when he saw me.

  “Wh-what should I do, Kirito? Look what’s happened!”

  “I don’t think you can get out of this with a simple apology at this point. Anyway, is this duel going to be a true sword battle?”

  “Of course not. We have to stop before drawing blood.”

  “Ahh…but if you can’t stop the sword in time and hit your target, that might end up killing your opponent. Listen—aim for Zink’s sword, not Zink. Give him one Horizontal on the blade and that should do it.”

  “A-are you sure?”

  “Absolutely. I guarantee it.”

  I pounded him on the back; gave a quick bow to Zink and his father, who were staring at me suspiciously; and returned to the line of spectators.

  At the podium, Gasfut clapped and called for silence.

  “And now, outside of the original plan, we have a duel between Zink, our head man-at-arms, and the carver…er, the swordsman Eugeo! You are not to lower your opponent’s life through direct strikes. Is that understood?!”

  Zink loudly drew his sword from his waist, and, a bit later, Eugeo reluctantly drew his. The gasp from the village crowd was no doubt due to the beauty of the Blue Rose Sword as it shone in the firelight.

  Even Zink seemed to be overwhelmed by the aura of the sword. His head tilted back briefly before he regained his posture. With an even more hateful glare than before, the young guard jabbed a finger at Eugeo and said, to my surprise, “Does that sword really belong to you, Eugeo?! If it’s borrowed, I have the right to force you to use a different—”

  But Eugeo interrupted with righteous fury. “I got this sword in the northern cave, so it belongs to me now!”

  The crowd murmured, and Zink seemed to be at a loss for words. I figured that he would demand proof of ownership from Eugeo, but he didn’t. In a world without thievery, perhaps the simple act of stating that something was your own property was all the proof needed. Even doubting that statement might be seen as a violation of rights.

  I had no idea if that was correct or not, but Zink didn’t push the issue any further. He spat into his palms and held his sword up high.

  Eugeo, meanwhile, held his blade perfectly still at eye level, drew his left side back, and crouched.

  As hundreds of villagers watched in silence, Gasfut raised his hand high, then brought it down as he commanded, “Begin!”

  “Raaaah!!”

  As I expected, Zink was the first to charge. He bellowed and raced forward to deliver a vertical slice from overhead. It was so forceful that I feared he might really intend to hit Eugeo.

  “…!!”

  I gasped. Zink’s sword changed directions in midair. He had gone from an overhead swing down to a sideways swipe from the right. As a feint, it was crude, but the timing was awful. I’d advised Eugeo to hit Zink’s sword with a Horizontal, but it would be very hard to deflect a flat swing with a flat swing. He could easily miss and wind up losing…

  “Y-yaaaah!!”

  The shout was rather inferior to Zink’s. And Eugeo’s sword skill was not Horizontal.

  He set his sword at the right shoulder. The blade glowed deep blue. He made one earth-shaking stomp and sliced at a sharp forty-five-degree arc. That was the diagonal sword skill Slant—but I had never taught him that.

  Eugeo’s attack, which came out a single pulse later, shot forward with lightning speed, striking Zink’s sideways swing from above. Even in the moment that the steel blade shattered miserably, I couldn’t help but question myself.

  No doubt Eugeo had been practicing with a stick or something else when he went home at night. During that practice, he’d become aware of Slant—but there was nothing hesitant or amateur about that movement. If anything, the way he became one with the Blue Rose Sword was graceful, beautiful.

  If he continued to build experience, learned a multitude of skills, and grew through actual battle, what sort of swordsman might he end up being? If…if I ever had to cross blades with him, would I actually emerge the victor?

  The villagers marveled and applauded the flashy and unexpected conclusion, but it was the cold sweat running down my back that held my concentration.

  Zink and his father retreated in stunned disbelief, and the music started up again. The festival was even more rousing than before, and it did not disperse until the church bell rang ten o’clock.

  It took another three cups of the apple beverage for me to forget about my unease and rejoin the intoxicating dance circle. In the end, Selka had to drag me back to the church. At the door, Eugeo looked at me in mild exasperation but promised that we would begin our journey in the morning. I stumbled up to my room somehow and toppled onto the bed.

  “Just because it’s a festival doesn’t mean you have to drink that much, Kirito. Here’s some water,” said Selka, offering me a cold cup fresh from the well. I downed it, feeling it cool off my brain, and exhaled. In Aincrad and Alfheim, the best you could do was pretend you were feeling drunk, but here in the Underworld, the alcohol was real. I made a mental note about that for next time. At my side, the young girl looked worried.

  “Wh-what?” Selka asked suspiciously, noticing that I was staring at her. I tipped my head in embarrassment.

  “I…I’m sorry. You probably wanted to speak more with Eugeo, huh?”

  Selka’s cheeks suddenly went cherry red. She was still dressed in her nicest outfit. “Why would you bring that up?”

  “Because by tomorrow morning…Actually, I should apologize for that first. Now it looks like I’m pretty much taking Eugeo out of the village. If he had been a woodcutter here for the rest of his life, he might have, well…started a family with you, eventually…”

  Selka sighed theatrically and sat down next to me on the bed.

  “Honestly, what do I even say about that?” she wondered, shaking her head in utter exasperation. “Well…fine. Yes, I’m sad that Eugeo will be leaving the village…but I’m also happy. Ever since Alice went away, he’s been living his life like he’s given up on everything, but now he’s smiling again. He made up his mind to go searching for my sister. I’m certain that on the inside, Father was happy, too…to learn that Eugeo hadn’t forgotten about her.”
r />
  “…I see…”

  She bobbed her head and looked up at the full moon outside the window.

  “Actually…I didn’t go into the cave hoping to copy my sister and touch the soil of the land of darkness. I knew I wasn’t capable of that. I knew…but I just wanted to get a bit closer to her. To go as far as I could…up to the point where I couldn’t go any farther, and then I’d know for sure…that I can never be Alice’s replacement.”

  I pondered the meaning of her statement, then shook my head. “No, you’re really something. A normal girl would turn back at the bridge out of the village, or in the woods, or at the cave’s entrance. But you went all the way down into that dark place and found a goblin scouting party. You did something that only you can do.”

  “Something that…only I can do…?” she asked, her eyes huge.

  I nodded. “You aren’t a replacement for Alice. You have your own unique talents, Selka. So focus on developing those.”

  In fact, I was certain that Selka’s talent for the sacred arts was about to take a huge leap. She had helped defeat the goblins with Eugeo and me, so her system authority level had to be higher now.

  But that wasn’t the crux of the matter. She had sought the answer to who she was and found one. That, more than anything, would give her incredible energy. Belief in oneself was the truest power of the human soul.

  It was time for me to find the answer to the question I’d been putting off.

  Who or what was this sentient consciousness calling itself Kirito, or Kazuto Kirigaya? The fluctlight residing in a biological brain—the “real” me? Or a replica saved on storage media, read from my brain by the STL?

  There was only one way to find out.

  The Underworldians like Eugeo and Selka, with their artificial fluctlights, could not break the Taboo Index or Basic Imperial Law. But just because I could run afoul of this world’s taboos was not proof that I wasn’t an artificial fluctlight. I hardly knew any of the individual taboos in the index. The rules hadn’t been written into my soul.