Ugh, this is gonna be such a pain in the ass.
Once we left the west gate of Urbus, I called up my equipment mannequin and unequipped the yellow-and-blue-striped bandanna. I looked up at the long black bangs hanging below my eyebrows and sighed in relief. My original SAO avatar had parted hair in an attempt to escape those loose bangs, but now that I’d been living with this for a month, it was the most comfortable and familiar look for me.
Asuna watched me removing my costume and snorted. “I can’t believe you thought putting on one stupid bandanna made for a disguise. It won’t work unless you hide your entire face or use face paint.”
“Urgh …”
The latter term sent a painful shock through my memory.
My face had been covered in thick black paint until two nights before. And it wasn’t a cool tribal pattern on the cheeks or a reverse cross on my forehead. No, it was something much, much more embarrassing—I thought. I didn’t have the nerve to look for myself. The only human player who saw me described me as “Kiriemon,” after the famous robotic cat character.
My face was marked against my will the moment I accepted a certain quest, and the marks would not come off until I completed that quest. I worked myself to the bone, tears in my eyes, to finish it up after three nights, when the whiskered old martial arts master finally erased the markings. There were no words to describe the joy and satisfaction of that moment. I was so happy, I even forgave him for the fact that cleaning them off was as simple as a wipe of the light brown rag from his robe pocket.
For that reason, I’d lost a good fifty hours of forward advancement since the opening of the second floor. I rushed to the village of Marome, the current front line of player progress, where I met Asuna for the first time since the boss fight.
She, of course, had no idea why I would give that odd reaction to her innocent suggestion, and stared at me suspiciously. I cleared my throat in a hurry.
“Ah, um, g-good point. Maybe I should get one of those hooded capes for myself the next time I go to Urbus. Where did you buy yours?”
“From an NPC in the western market of the Town of Begi …” She trailed off, and I felt flames pouring from her eyes. “You’d better not buy the same thing! Then people will think we’re a coup … a fixed party! Wear a burlap sack if you want to hide your face!”
Asuna turned her head away in a blinding huff, opened her menu and tapped the equipment figure. The plain gray wool cape sparkled briefly and vanished, and her long, straight hair glimmered in the afternoon sun.
It was the first time I’d seen her full face in four days, not since the battle against Illfang the Kobold Lord, and it was indescribably beautiful. It almost made me wonder if Akihiko Kayaba, the ruler of our new world, had made one careless mistake and left her face in its original avatar form—but if I ever said that aloud, she’d pound me.
Marome was to the southeast of Urbus, so the southwest road was empty of adventurers. If it weren’t for the whole game-of-death thing, being able to stroll with a beautiful girl in the midst of a video game would be the greatest gift God could give any teenage boy. Even if we were only going to farm wasps for a royal-pain-in-the-ass mission.
“People might confuse me for a PKer if I wear a burlap sack. Can I at least get the same cape in a different color?”
“Negative!”
“… Yes, ma’am.”
I brought up my equipment mannequin again, removed the leather armor disguise and put on the pitch-black Coat of Midnight I’d looted from the boss.
Asuna seemed about to say something as she watched the long hem of the coat flap in the wind, but when our eyes met, she turned away in a huff. I started to wonder why I was even helping her gather upgrading materials, then remembered that it had been my own suggestion.
On the other hand, Windwasps were worth the trouble thanks to their experience value. It would be a good source of points before dinner. Plus, no doubt Asuna would be generous enough to pay for dinner in place of her lodging fee. Sure, she would.
The path ahead took us through a narrow ravine that split the fields of grazing oxen into north and south. Through that canyon was where we’d find the wasps.
“As I’m sure you already know, given that you’ve hunted a fair number of them, the wasps’ stingers have a two- or three-second stun effect. Let’s keep in mind that if the other gets stunned, we should immediately go in and take over for them.”
“Got it,” she said, then added, “If you go too far south, you’ll run into Jagged Worms, so watch out for that.”
“G … got it.”
Belatedly, I recalled that bit of info from the beta test.
We crossed the natural stone bridge that spanned the thirty-foot gorge, nervous despite its reasonable width, and sighed in relief once we were across.
“I wonder what would happen if we fell off,” Asuna asked. I shrugged my shoulders.
“I doubt you’d die if you’re over level five. But the path out of the ravine is way to the south, and there’s plenty of slimy monsters down there, so it’d take a while to get out.”
“Oh.”
I thought I detected something other than relief in her face. As though sensing my suspicion, she turned away toward the valley and said, “I was just thinking, if we go up against a boss monster, scouting it out and leveling up, creating a strategy and all that, and still lose, that’s one thing. But dying because you were careless and fell from a tall height would really suck.”
“Yeah. In a normal MMO, dying from a fall would be a funny story … but not here,” I murmured. “But do you even think there’s a way of dying in the real world that might make you say, ‘Well, I did my best, so I have no regrets’? Whether it’s a disease or an accident, I think all you’d be left with is sadness and frustration … I mean, if there’s any way to die in Aincrad and feel satisfied that you did what you needed to, it would have to be …”
Sadly, my fourteen-year-old-nerd’s vocabulary failed me; my fingers wriggled and my mouth opened and closed without a sound. Asuna mercilessly watched the entire sorry display, then gave a brief answer.
“Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. Not that I’m eager to find out what that’s like any time soon.”
“Y-yeah.”
“In which case, we ought to put our best effort into defeating the second-floor boss. And helping me power up my weapon is part of that process.”
“Y … yeah.”
“Since we’re both in agreement, let’s get started. A hundred in two hours!”
Asuna drew her rapier and headed in the opposite direction of the stone bridge—a small basin lined with low trees.
One hundred wasps in two hours. One every seventy-two seconds? For real?
All I could summon in response was a halfhearted grunt of agreement.
The Windwasps were black with green stripes and a foot and a half long, easily making them larger than any insects on earth, but among the smallest monsters found on Aincrad. Their HP and attack values were fairly low for second-floor mobs.
However, it was very difficult to suppress the brain’s primitive signal to flee when a bee larger than your head approached, brandishing a stinger the size of an ice pick. Hunting the wasps therefore became an exercise in mastering one’s instincts.
It was for this reason that I’d been concerned about Asuna, who did not seem to take kindly to bugs. However—
“Haah!”
Her rapier skill Linear burned a silver line through space, unerringly piercing the weak abdomen band of a wasp. It screeched metallically and burst into polygonal shards. A list of experience and col rewards appeared before my eyes automatically for being in her party.
“Twenty-four,” she shouted, looking over with what I suspected to be confident glee in her eyes. My juices of rivalry energized, I turned toward a fresh new wasp to my right.
It had spawned with me inside of its aggro range, so as soon as the curved compound eyes spotted me, it reared up high. The wasp st
opped about five yards off the ground, then buzzed down with a heavy, stomach-churning vibration. If the wasp’s body stayed straight, it would lunge for a bite attack, and if it curved like a hinge, it would use its poison stinger. That was the first step to dealing with the creatures, but even after my considerable beta experience with these and the more powerful Storm Hornets, I couldn’t help but recoil in fear when they lunged.
This time, I withstood the terror and noticed the bee had its abdomen exposed, signaling a stinger attack. I stood my ground.
The wasp charged right before me, then briefly stopped to hover again. The massive poisoned barb was glowing with a faint yellow light. I waited until that moment, then jumped backward. The stinger shot forward with a mechanical clank but found no purchase.
Once the wasp missed, it would fall under a delay effect for a second and a half. Without missing a beat, I unleashed Vertical Arc, a two-part sword skill. The blade carved out a V shape and hammered the wasp with satisfying sound effects. The monster’s HP gauge fell nearly 60 percent.
Fresh out of its delay, the wasp flew up high again. It spun around and began another dive. This time, it hurtled body first, the sign of a bite attack. I sidestepped rather than waiting for the attack, then raced after the bee when it passed by. It stopped and briefly hovered before its next turn, more than enough for me to catch it with a clean diagonal Slant.
One more Vertical Arc would finish off the monster, but its cooldown icon was still lit at the bottom of my view. A follow-up Slant could do the job if I hit its weak point, but from behind, the wasp’s large wings were in the way. If I didn’t strike a critical hit, its HP bar would still have a bit left. I clicked my tongue in disappointment and launched a regular swing attack before the wasp’s delay wore off. Fortunately, I hit it before its bite started, reducing the wasp to pieces of blue glass.
“Twenty-two!” I yelled, looking around for a fresh opponent.
The fact that I was losing despite the edge in level and equipment was thanks to Asuna’s high rate of critical hits—in other words, she was so accurate that she could hit the wasps in their weak point every single time.
My Vertical Arc did 60 percent of a wasp’s life bar with a normal hit, whereas Asuna’s Linear did just over fifty for a critical blow. But because that move was a basic skill, it had a very brief cooldown time, meaning she could use it every single time the wasp was vulnerable.
I could try to follow her lead and aim for crits with my basic attacks like Slant and Horizontal, but I just didn’t have the confidence in my own accuracy. If I had an excuse, it was that my Anneal Blade +6 was specced “3S3D,” meaning three points to sharpness, three to durability. On the other hand, Asuna’s Wind Fleuret +4 was 3A1D, meaning three points to accuracy, one to durability. That gave her an excellent bonus to critical hits, no doubt.
But even taking that into account, an extremely high level of player skill and calm concentration was necessary to land every single hit as a critical attack—to say nothing of experience.
I suspected that Asuna had spent a considerable amount of time fighting these giant wasps since reaching the second floor. Much of that had to do with farming the materials to upgrade her Wind Fleuret, but I thought there was something bigger behind that. It was about strengthening herself as a player, not just her stats. If she learned to jab the weak points of the nimble flying enemies, landbound monsters would seem slow as molasses in comparison.
I recalled what Asuna said to me on our first encounter deep within the first-floor labyrinth.
We’re all going to die anyway. The only difference is when and where, sooner … or later.
Her eyes had shone with a dim light that saw not hope but despair at the end of her battle. That she was able to strive in search of true strength now filled me with joy. I could only hope that someday she’d stand atop the entire population, a shining example and beacon of light to all.
But having said that … I was not about to lose our competition to see who could kill fifty wasps first.
Before we began battle, Asuna had proposed a chilling bet. She would provide the dinner for tonight, but whoever could hunt fifty wasps first would also get a free dessert, courtesy of the loser.
I’d accepted the challenge without thinking, and it wasn’t until after we started that I realized what she was after. One of the NPC restaurants in Urbus sold a shortcake with an astonishing amount of sweet cream made from giant cow’s milk, the local delicacy. And it was delicious—enough to make one forget about my favorite black bread with cream from the first floor. It was also expensive—enough to use the majority of the col I’d earn in the hunt.
That’s what Asuna was after. If she bought the meal and I bought the dessert, I’d come out way, way behind. I had no choice but to emerge victorious!
“Raaahh!!”
I raced after the freshest new wasp, a bellow ripping through my lungs.
But the next moment, all the wind went out of my sails when I heard her call out, “Twenty-five!”
A three-point margin. That was bad news at the halfway mark. If we both continued at this pace, she’d pull away and leave me in the dust. If I couldn’t find a way to kill them in two moves like Asuna, I would never make up the difference.
I didn’t have any other choice.
After turning back to ensure that Asuna was looking the other way, I gave my target an appraising stare.
The black-and-green wasp hovered high, then plunged down at me. Its body was bent, the gleaming stinger extended.
I followed the proper pattern, stopping in my tracks and inviting the enemy to strike and miss before employing a Vertical Arc. Two pleasing slashes rang out, but as usual, they only did 60 percent of its health. If the wasp pulled away, I couldn’t finish it off in two moves, short of a lucky critical hit.
“… … !!”
I clenched my left fist with a silent scream.
Normally, I’d suffer a brief delaying effect at the end of my sword skill, but my left fist began glowing with a red visual effect when I held it to my side. Largely automatically, my body jutted forward and pounded the wasp, which was already in a knockback state from the sword attack.
The meaty thud that resulted was unlike the sound of any blade. My fist shot forward and caught the wasp in its round, bulging abdomen: Flash Blow, a basic Martial Arts skill. The wasp lost another 20 percent of its HP.
Poised again, the wasp zipped upward and out of reach. Its second dive was another stinger lunge. I had already recovered from my delay, and I easily evaded the wasp and dispatched it with a simple Slant. The time it took to defeat this wasp was nearly the same as two hits.
At this point, depending on how quickly I could find the next monster, I had a chance. I had a chance.
Eyes wide, I scanned for the formation of a polygonal blob that signaled a new monster being generated into the environment, and raced after it.
One hour later, I sat on the grass, fifty wasps killed, burnt to a crisp by sheer exhaustion. Asuna walked over and patted me on the shoulder.
“Nice work, Kirito.”
There wasn’t a hint of fatigue in her voice. She circled around the front and smiled. “Well, let’s go back to Urbus for our dinner. And when you buy me dessert, I’d like to hear all about that bizarre punching skill you were using.”
“… …”
I had no response. The beautiful fencer leaned in for the critical finish.
“I can’t wait to finally try that cake. A win’s a win, even if it was only by one point. A boy must keep his promises, after all.”
3
JUST AS WE ARRIVED BACK AT URBUS, BELLS RANG crisp and clear from all over the town, signaling the arrival of night. It was a calm, slow melody with a hint of longing. Seven o’clock was about the time for the players out adventuring in the wilderness to make their way back home.
In the MMORPGs I’d played before SAO, seven o’clock was just when the game was getting going. People would begin to log in to
the server around then, hitting peak traffic at about ten, with the hardiest of souls lasting all through the night until morning.
As a student of mandatory schooling age, I always logged out by two in the morning at the latest. I remembered looking on in jealousy at those who were preparing to race out for yet another round of hunting.
Ironically, now that all I wanted was to be able to go back to school, I could stay out well past two, until five or eight o’clock in the morning if I chose. And yet once it got dark outside, I always found my way back to town.
Many times, it was just to eat dinner and fill up on supplies before trudging out for another round of adventures until sunrise—the night I met Asuna in the labyrinth was just such an occasion. But every time I saw that red, sinking sun through the outer perimeter of Aincrad, the sky changing from purple to navy blue, I couldn’t sit still. I had to walk back to civilization.
As proof that this urge was not solely in my own mind, there were a number of players walking the main street of Urbus, all wearing smiles of relief. Lively cheers erupted from the restaurants and bars on the sides of the street, with the occasional toast or song dedicated to another day of survival.
This same scene occurred at the towns and villages of the first floor. But it had been quite a while since I’d heard such unreserved laughter—perhaps never—since we’d been trapped in Aincrad.
“This is the first time I’ve come back to Urbus at this time of day. Is it always like this? Or is today a special day?” I asked Asuna. December 8 wasn’t a holiday. She shot me a quizzical look, her beauty hidden beneath the wool cape once again.
“Both Urbus and Marome have been like this for several days. Have you been in hiding both day and night?”
“Um … well …”
She was probably asking if I really cared that much about being seen. As a matter of fact, I couldn’t visit Urbus even if I wanted to. If I was going to tell her about my Martial Arts skill over dinner, I’d eventually get to this topic, but it was not something that could be summed up briefly.