Monochrome Duet - Solid_Shark - Sword Art Online (Anime & Manga) [Archive of Our Own] (2024)

Chapter 1: Chapter I: Sunset Prelude

Chapter Text

Chapter I: Sunset Prelude

Tuesday, June 6th, 2023

The Twenty-Sixth Floor was as close to a literal breath of fresh air as Kirito was going to find in Aincrad's digital environment, he thought. The Twenty-Fifth had largely consisted of cave systems, from the side dungeons to the towns; even the labyrinth had been a very rocky, rough-hewn place. All in all, it had been one of the more oppressive floors the clearing group had fought through so far.

By contrast, the Twenty-Sixth was a mountainous floor, and even with the maximum height of one hundred meters, that was still a fair distance to fall from at the peaks. Most of what Kirito had seen so far was up near those peaks, too; as far as he could tell, very little of import on this floor lay in the narrow, treacherous valleys. The town closest to the entrance from the floor below, for certain, was built on the slope of one of those mountains.

Now, just a day after the floor was first opened, Kirito was perched in a guard tower at the outskirts of the town, Skirloft. Situated near the mountain's peak, about seventy-five meters up by his estimate, it seemed built for a pair of guards; he imagined, in the lore, it was probably to guard against attacks by the wyverns that were said to live in the northern part of the floor. There was even a large torch that looked like it could be lit as a warning signal.

For two, it would've been a little snug. For one tired swordsman, it was more than enough space. He sat on the windowsill, uncaring of the long drop below, and tried to let the spectacular view distract him from everything that had happened the previous day.

It wasn't working as well as Kirito would've liked. The giant spider that had served as the boss of the previous floor had been a surprisingly difficult foe; the increase in difficulty over the one immediately before had been greater than the clearers had expected from prior experience. Kirito had fought in every Floor Boss Raid up to now, but The Adamantine Arachnid had been by far the worst.

Eight dead in the reinforcements, and most of the rest halfway there by the end, he thought wearily, watching as the sun sank into view below the disc of the next floor. And that was after what happened to the Army. No wonder they retreated after that.

Kirito didn't like the cactus-haired leader of the Army, Kibaou. There was too much bad blood between them, dating back to the first Floor Boss and the origin of the term “Beater”. Even still, he had some small measure of respect for the man's courage, and they did tend to work well enough together when it came time for boss raids. With the losses the former Aincrad Liberation Squad had taken, he didn't blame Kibaou at all for pulling back to the lower floors.

Even if it was partly his own fault, none of them deserved that.

That didn't make him any happier about what came after. He had nothing respect for Heathcliff, the powerful, unflappable knight who had joined him in holding the line against The Adamantine Arachnid, and that respect extended to the man's efforts in the wake of the battle. Respect didn't fill the void left after the formation of the Knights of Blood, though. It didn't change the fact that, for the first time in six months, he could only see one HP bar in the corner of his vision.

I should be happy, Kirito thought. It's what I've been saying she should do for months now. I am proud of what she's accomplished. But still…

Other players were out exploring the new floor still, checking every nook and cranny, satisfying themselves that despite the latest boss' difficulty spike, this floor's enemies followed the normal curve. Argo, he was sure, was already hard at work dealing in information for her next guide. Normally, he'd even be one of her sources, hurling himself right into the exploration.

Today, he'd decided to give himself the day off. His heart just wasn't in it.

Kirito wasn't sure how long he spent brooding on that windowsill, looking out over the moments. He vaguely noticed it was nearing dark, but he was too lost in his own thoughts to pay much attention; he didn't particularly expect to be disturbed, anyway. Even if someone else stumbled on this guard post, no one was likely to want to talk to the original Beater, of all—

“I knew you did not like crowds, Kirito, but isn't this a little out of the way, even for you?”

Startled, he nearly tumbled right out the window, doubtless to have his name on the Monument of Life crossed out and underwritten with “Death by Falling”; truly, an ignominious end for the most infamous beta tester. Only his visitor's quick reflexes, catching the collar of his ubiquitous black longcoat in one armored hand and hauling him back, saved his life.

Breathing fast, heart rate high enough he was sure alarms were going off on the medical equipment monitoring his real body, Kirito fell onto the stone bench that ran along the interior walls of the guard post. Then, and only then, did he get a look at who had saved—and nearly ended—his life, and the sight was enough make him start in surprise a second time.

Chuckling, his visitor shook her head. “Honestly, Kirito,” she said, sitting down across from him and resting her elbows on the table in between, “you can find me when I'm invisible, but when I come up in full view, making enough noise to attract every monster on this floor, you don't notice me coming? I thought your senses were sharper than that.”

Kirito stared openly. The dark skin, lilac hair, and pointed ears were features he wasn't likely to forget any time soon; she was even still wearing her distinctive dark metal armor, and the Mistmoon Cloak he knew could hide her completely from view at certain hours.

“K-Kizmel…?”

He knew that face well enough, certainly. He just hadn't expected to see her here, seventeen floors above her kingdom's capital.

Kizmel smiled. “It's been a while, Kirito. I am glad to see you are doing well.”

The Dark Elven Royal Guard, Kizmel. Member of the Pagoda Knights of the Kingdom of Lyusula, she had been a steadfast companion for Kirito and Asuna both, when they were clearing the Elf War quest chain, supporting them with her incredible skill with a sword in battle, and sound advice and moral support outside it.

She was also an NPC, and by far the most confusing one Kirito had ever encountered. Based on his experiences in the beta test, Kizmel shouldn't have even survived the opening event of the quest; not only had she lived this time, but she'd proven to have a stunning degree of intelligence and autonomy for an NPC, to the point where Kirito had once doubted she was truly AI at all.

Subsequent events had reassured him that she wasn't secretly an ally of Kayaba Akihiko controlling an NPC avatar to toy with players, but even now Kirito was no closer to understanding Kizmel's nature than he had been back when he first met her, six months before.

Eventually, he'd decided it didn't really matter. AI or no, she'd become his friend, and he'd be lying if he claimed he wasn't glad to see her, however strange the circ*mstances. Besides, by now I should be used to her doing the unexpected, he thought wryly. Right back to the time she followed me clear into a strategy meeting in town…

“It's good to see you, too, Kizmel,” Kirito said honestly, relaxing into the bench as his heart rate finally began to slow. “But, um—I didn't expect to see you this far up. I don't remember seeing any spirit trees for a few floors now.” Actually, what he was really wondering was how she'd gotten into town at all. He'd have expected the NPC guards to attack her on sight; it wasn't yet dark enough for her to have hidden under her cloak.

There was a quiet clank of armor as Kizmel shrugged. “The trees may be an easier route, Kirito, but it is not as if we elves cannot use the Pillars of the Heavens. It took me a couple of extra days, that's all. And before you ask, the local guards have no reason to take issue now. They were only ever on guard against my people because of the War, and with that over…”

That made a certain amount of sense, Kirito supposed. It was a little odd, since the Elf War technically began again any time a player attempted the quest, but he realized it was possible Kizmel, as an apparently unique NPC, might have received a unique status when the players involved in her particular instance of the quest completed it. It was certainly no less plausible than several of the other things that had occurred around her.

“So,” Kizmel went on, “I made my way to the current front line, on the assumption that you and Asuna would still be in the lead.” Pausing, she glanced around the guard post's meager interior, looking mildly puzzled. “Speaking of, where is Asuna? Is she off getting supplies?”

Kirito winced, feeling the depression that had led him to that isolated spot come rushing back. “…No, she's… she's not with me now.”

Her brow furrowed in a worried frown. “She isn't? Is she alright?”

“She's fine,” he assured her quickly. “It's just… we're not a party anymore. Not since yesterday's clearing battle. Um… it's kind of a long story…”

Reaching under her cloak, Kizmel pulled out a leather skin that Kirito thought looked familiar. Impulse led him to bring up his menu, skim through the inventory, and materialize a pair of cups, which she then filled from the skin. “Moontear wine,” she said, pushing one of the cups over to him. “I'm sure you remember it. I was hoping to share a drink with you and Asuna… So, what happened?”

Kirito took a long sip of the wine, not surprised this time by the bite of alcohol that accompanied the sweet and sour taste. “Have you heard anything about yesterday's boss fight?” he began, gazing down into his cup.

“Only what I could overhear from some of the Swordsmasters I passed on my way here,” Kizmel replied, nursing her own drink. “Most humans still are not very comfortable around me, though I suppose my people are something of an unusual sight in human towns… I did hear that it was a difficult battle.”

He nodded. “We lost eight people,” he said quietly. “Almost lost a lot more. For awhile, it was down to Asuna, a knight called Heathcliff, and me, while the rest healed up and tried to regroup. And that wasn't even the worst. You remember Kibaou and his group, right?”

She nodded, her small, rueful smile showing she remembered the cactus-haired clearer's abrasive personality well enough. “Guildmaster Kibaou is a difficult person to forget, yes. A very headstrong man, as I recall.”

“You can say that again.” Kirito sipped at the wine, using it to try and hold back the cold memories of the previous day's battle. “This time, it just about got him killed. He got some advance information on the boss, and he launched a raid without the rest of the clearing group.”

Kizmel grimaced. “That strikes me as… ill-advised. It's been some time since I was last among your people, Kirito, but I do not recall Kibaou's group being large enough to mount such an operation by themselves.”

“They were actually close to it, by then.” His gaze turned to the window, looking out at the setting sun. “Not anymore, though. They went in with forty people, against what they thought was going to be a two-headed giant with simple attacks. What they got was a giant, armored spider, stronger than anything we'd ever run into.” Kirito shivered. “By the time the rest of the clearing group found out Kibaou had even gone, and went after… Well. There weren't even twenty of them left. We lost eight more just finishing the job.”

She listened silently, with a patient stillness that wasn't quite like a normal NPC. “I cannot say I ever had any particular fondness for Guildmaster Kibaou,” the elf said finally, voice soft. “But I would not wish such losses on him, either. Do you know why his information was so flawed?”

“I wish we did, but no.” Kirito sighed, turning his attention back to his drink and companion. “It might've been a rumor from a local that didn't pan out… or it might've been outright false info. All Kibaou said after was that the guild member who got the tip in the first place was one of the casualties in the battle. We may never know for sure.” He took a sip, lifting his free hand palm-up. “They've gone back down to the lower floors, now, to regroup; honestly, I don't know if they'll ever come back up.”

“Heavy losses can do that to a unit,” Kizmel mused. “But that leaves a large hole in your clearing group, right? I don't imagine that Lind's Dragon Knights can carry the load by themselves.”

Kirito snorted at that. Lind and his guild were skilled, no doubt, and he'd never try to downplay their contributions to clearing Aincrad. Even so, he couldn't deny that Lind's attempts at taking Diavel's place as “leader” of the clearing group as a whole had never worked out very well.

“No,” he said now, putting aside memories of Lind and his attempts at dictating to Kirito on the matter of guild membership. “From how that battle turned out, I think Heathcliff is going to be as close to a true leader as we're going to get, and he's forming a new guild to do it with.” He hesitated, and downed the rest of his glass to buy himself a few moments; Kizmel immediately refilled it without comment. “Asuna ended up calling the shots for most of the others in the last part of the battle, and she did it pretty well. So… Heathcliff asked her to be his second-in-command in the Knights of Blood.”

Kizmel nodded, very slowly. “She accepted.”

“Yeah.”

It wasn't a betrayal, by any means. Kirito couldn't even say she was abandoning him. After all, he'd advised her to do exactly that, just after their first boss battle together. He wasn't exactly in a position to complain that she'd finally taken that advice—especially when it was obvious she really would do a great job helping to lead the KoB. It wasn't like they wouldn't see each other now, either; she might be busy right now with forming the new guild, but at the least he knew she'd be up to her neck in the next boss fight.

It still wasn't the same.

When the silence seemed to drag on too long, Kirito coughed into his hand. “Well,” he said, trying to force some cheer into his voice, “it's not like I've never been solo before. Actually, I never was part of any long-term party before I teamed up with Asuna, so this is pretty normal for me.” From the frown that returned to Kizmel's face, he could tell she wasn't buying it, so he hurried on, “So, er, what brings you up here, Kizmel? I thought your Queen said…” He thought back to the last time he'd talked with Kizmel, at the conclusion of the Elf War. “…I thought she said she had other duties for you…?”

“That was four months ago, Kirito,” Kizmel pointed out. She leaned back against the bench, her expression suggesting the previous topic wasn't over yet. “Lyusula's borders have been quiet since the War. It appears that this peace really is going to last—which leaves the Pagoda Knights with little to do. Honestly?” She smiled, looking just a little sheepish. “I was bored, Kirito. Fending off the occasional attack by weak monsters simply wasn't enough for me to keep my edge.”

Can an AI even get bored? Kirito managed to choke off the question before he actually said it aloud. In the first place, it wasn't like she'd understand it, and in the second, it would be downright rude.

Instead, he said, “So you came to check on how the clearing was going?”

“I came to check on you,” she corrected, pausing to take a small drink of her wine. Unlike him, she was still on her first glass. “You and Asuna, I mean. More precisely, I asked if the Queen might be able to spare me for a time, given how placid the Kingdom's borders have become, and she granted me leave to pursue my own goals, until and unless I'm needed at home.”

“What goals?” Kirito asked, honestly curious. As strangely lifelike as Kizmel had been, for as long as he'd known her, her actions had still generally been in relation to the quest line he knew from the beta. At the end of it, she'd even stayed in her people's capital, as might be expected of a quest NPC whose role had ended. He'd never once heard her talk of any goals outside that quest.

Except, he remembered suddenly, when she talked about those dreams she had, the ones that sounded like they were from my experiences in the beta…

“I had intended to join you and Asuna again,” Kizmel said, with a shrug and a smile. “I thought we made a good team, back then, and there's still much I want to talk with you about. As it is… I suppose Asuna has all the support she needs, now. But you, Kirito, look like someone in need of a partner. Will I do?”

Kirito stared blankly at her. “Um… You do know I'm involved in clearing the, er, Pillars, right? I'm not going to be going near Dark Elf territory much anytime soon…” Stupid question! But she can't actually mean—I know she suggested it before, when I was trying to keep the ALS and DKB from killing each other, but I always thought that was just a bluff she and Asuna were running—and that bit on the Fourth Floor was Viscount Yofilis' way of paying us back for helping his castle, not something they'd do normally—

“Of course,” she said casually. “I know the risks, Kirito, but it is not as if I have not done anything dangerous before. You do remember how we met, don't you?”

Vividly. Given his experiences in the beta, he'd fully expected her to die there, and still didn't fully understand why she hadn't.

“So,” she continued, “unless you think your human comrades will object, I'd like to offer my help in unifying the Pillars of Heaven.” Kizmel met his gaze, dark eyes serious. “I want to travel with you again, Kirito. Especially now, if you do not even have Asuna's support any longer. You helped my people; it is my turn to help yours.”

Kirito swallowed, thought for a moment, then swallowed again, this time moontear wine. He'd just been psyching himself up to return to being the solo he'd been before Asuna collided with his life. He was used to being alone; he'd never understood other people well, especially girls. Especially NPC girls who didn't act like NPCs.

He'd also never been good with words. The combination, as the various parts of his body that had encountered Asuna's fists, feet, and elbows could attest, could be a very painful one.

Yet… Kirito couldn't deny, on one level, sheer curiosity, having never yet figured out what made Kizmel so different from other NPCs. He couldn't deny, either, that there were a lot of advantages to having even one person to watch his back, from the use of Switching to simply having someone who could heal him. He did still have the fear that had led him to abandon Klein at the very beginning, that had led him to try and push Asuna away, but after months of working together, in which the worst hadn't happened…

More than that, he thought, I… He could hardly bring himself to complete the thought; he couldn't quite force words out, choking up as he all too often did when it really counted.

“If there's something you want to say, now's the time to do it, while you can…”

That voice out of memory jolted Kirito out of his paralysis, and he finally mustered a hesitant but real smile. “I'd like that, Kizmel,” he forced out, past the lump in his throat. “I'd like that a lot.” On reflex, before he could stop himself, he manipulated his menu to send a party invite.

Belatedly, Kirito remembered that as an NPC, it wouldn't work quite that way for Kizmel. To his surprise, though, she smiled, lifted one finger, and pressed an immaterial button in the air; as if it really had been another player, her lifebar promptly appeared beneath his in one corner of his vision.

Smiling wider at the look on his face, she said, “Did you think I have done nothing but guard gates for months, Kirito? I've learned a little of your Mystic Scribing while you were away; I hope to learn more as we journey together.”

Kirito would've really liked to know how she managed to “learn” part of a player's user interface. Right then, right there, though, he decided it wasn't really important. “Let's see what we can do, then,” he said, feeling more cheerful than he had since before people started dying against the The Adamantine Arachnid. “A pleasure working with you again, Kizmel.”

“Likewise, my friend.” Kizmel lifted her glass toward him, still smiling. “Although—what if someone does object? Kibaou may have left the front line, but I seem to remember Lind was not exactly your greatest supporter, either.”

He grinned. “Honestly? I'm kind of looking forward to seeing how people react. I'd like to see them try to complain about this one!”

Two plain glasses clinked together as if they were flagons of ale, and suddenly the deepening twilight didn't feel so unfriendly. Kirito had forgotten—he'd been acquainted with the night before, and he'd never felt better, or safer, than during that time.

Night had truly fallen, by the time Kirito and Kizmel left that guard tower behind, returning to Skirloft proper. Most players had turned in for the night, getting some rest before heading back out again in the morning to map the mountain trails; only a handful wandered Skirloft's sloped streets, taking care of last-minute preparations for the next day.

Kirito had done most of that the previous night, and hadn't expended any items today, so he ignored the NPC vendors entirely. Instead he led Kizmel toward the other edge of town, where he'd found a cheap, out of the way inn some distance from where most of the clearers were staying.

Away from the large inn that the KoB was currently organizing itself in, in particular.

Along the way, they did get some odd looks from other players, and Kirito heard more than one mutter about “Beaters” as they passed, but he was long since used to that. The hysteria had mostly died down months before, but being trailed by an obvious NPC—and a strong one, as anyone could tell just by looking at her cursor—was bound to stir up some of the old resentment.

It didn't matter. Even if anyone had been insane enough to try anything—which Kibaou at his absolute worst wouldn't have, he was fairly sure, given Kizmel's elite status—they were still inside the town. Words were the only weapon they had, here.

Kirito was pleasantly surprised when a couple of passing Dragon Knights did a collective double-take, then just waved a cheerful greeting. They had never gotten to know Kirito or his party very well, none of them had, but they remembered Kizmel from the lower floors, and things had turned out reasonably amicable then.

I wonder what they'll think when we turn up for the boss strategy meeting, though? Kirito thought, giving a polite nod in return. We did once threaten to take on a Floor Boss all by ourselves, after all.

Maybe it would at least keep Lind from making any snide remarks about joining a guild. The DKB leader hadn't bothered him about that in some time, but with Asuna having joined the KoB, Kirito had suspected Lind would bring it up again…

“So, Lind is still leading his Dragon Knights?” Kizmel asked, about halfway to the inn.

Kirito nodded. “They've gotten bigger lately, though. They call themselves the Divine Dragons Alliance, now.” He shrugged. “Kinda pretentious, if you ask me, but they're still good fighters. Though Lind had as much trouble as anyone keeping it together when yesterday's battle went bad…”

“Thus Asuna taking charge.” Kizmel nodded to herself. “I suppose I am not surprised. I always thought he did well enough holding his own guild together, but he didn't seem up to commanding a coalition. I remember when his Dragon Knights and Kibaou's ALS almost came to blows, back on the Third Floor.”

“Yeah. I don't know much about this Heathcliff guy yet, but he's definitely better at keeping people calm than Lind or Kibaou ever managed.” Admittedly, the situation in question had been deliberately set up by the mysterious Morte, but Lind's self-righteousness clashing with Kibaou's over-active sense of fair play had already been a problem. The manipulative player had only taken advantage of problems there were already there.

Kirito was about to say more on the subject, but now they'd reached the inn—and he abruptly realized he hadn't thought of one little complication. With his depression mostly cleared up by Kizmel's arrival, fatigue had hit him like a truck, and getting a good night's sleep had been uppermost in his mind. With Asuna, there had been a simple routine, worked out over the course of several floors and a few mild cases of domestic violence.

With Kizmel…

“Uh, Kizmel?” he began nervously. “Can you even get a room at a human inn?”

The elf shrugged. “I don't know that they'd accept my currency,” Kizmel admitted. “My people have free travel through human towns again, but our Queen was still working out some of the details, when I left the capital. It shouldn't be a problem, though; it is not as if this would be the first time we shared lodgings, Kirito.”

Erk. Well, yes, he and Asuna had shared Kizmel's tent for most of the time they'd spent on the Third Floor, but Asuna had been there as a buffer. Or chaperone, from the way she acted! The one time she wasn't there to make sure nothing happened, Kizmel actually—

Kirito forced the memory of a case of culture clash away from his mind's eye, but not in time to prevent a blush. Probably complete with steam coming out of his ears, if he knew Aincrad's emotional expression system. Even with the conditions Kayaba had placed on the players, he dearly loved Aincrad, but the utter inability to conceal emotions could be a real pain sometimes.

Whether there was literal steam or not, Kizmel clearly caught his reaction, even with his face carefully turned away. “It's all right, Kirito. I know you will be a perfect gentleman. I trust you.”

It's not my behavior I'm worried about here!

“Oh, relax,” she said, chuckling. “I have learned some things about human culture, Kirito, even if I do still find many of them strange. I won't do anything… indiscreet.”

Why, exactly, didn't he find that reassuring? Not that there was anything he could do about it at this stage; they were at the inn, and it was just too late in the day—night, now—for it to be practical to work out any alternative. All he could do was trust that Kizmel really had come to understand human standards of decorum.

And that she cares, Kirito added to himself, leading the way into the unprepossessing stone building. I still think that first bath incident wasn't just an “accident”. She's a quick enough study, she knew how Asuna would've taken it even then…

He really didn't understand girls. Human or AI, they strained his already limited social skills to the breaking point. Kizmel's assurances aside, he had a distinct feeling of impending doom, and he was sure it was connected somehow. There was some critical detail he was forgetting, and it was going to come back and bite him, he was sure of it.

So far, so good. …Why does that make me more nervous?

A lot of the inns Kirito had stayed in over the months he'd been in SAO had only had one bed to a room, which had occasionally caused some awkwardness. This one, to his relief, followed a standard he remembered from old-style offline RPGs, with two beds in an ostensibly single room. When he'd rented the room the previous day, he hadn't thought anything of it; now, he was grateful. At least he wouldn't have to worry about working out which of them got to sleep comfortably.

So far, Kizmel had also been true to her word, having only removed her cloak and armor, leaving her—relatively—modest tights and tunic. He still hadn't been able to keep himself from glancing curiously in her direction, but at least there hadn't been enough exposed to make things too awkward.

From the small smile on her face, though, he could tell she knew exactly what he was thinking about. Kirito only hoped she wouldn't tease him over it. For a supposed NPC, Kizmel's sense of humor could be dangerously mischievous.

For now, though, she seemed willing to let him off the hook. Stretching out on one of the beds, she rested her head on her hands, looking utterly relaxed. Far more so than Kirito was, certainly. “This town seems a bit rough,” she mused aloud. “At least the buildings. It feels like it was carved, not built.”

“It's not as nice as the Forest of Wavering Mists,” Kirito agreed, flopping gracelessly onto the other bed. He'd removed his longcoat and boots, but otherwise was no more inclined than Kizmel to go further, under the circ*mstances. At least, he hoped she wasn't inclined to. “I think it's better than the last floor, though.”

“Too much of it was underground, from what I saw on my way through,” she said, nodding. “I wasn't there for very long, but it did have a very oppressive feeling after a while. Still… This is not the worst place we have ever spent the night. Remember Torania?”

Kirito grimaced. “That was… the Seventh Floor, wasn't it? Yeah. I remember Asuna complaining we'd drown just trying to find the labyrinth.” Their avatars couldn't feel pain, exactly, though strong enough blows could be disorienting enough he thought their minds filled in what they expected to feel. Climate extremes were another matter, and the jungles of the Seventh Floor had been way too humid.

Not to mention the mosquitoes. I think Kayaba was feeling extra-sad*stic when he set up that floor. Giant, swarming, hyper-aggressive mosquitoes, they'd been, and they'd made the one night their party had to sleep in the field miserable. It had been in a Safe Haven, so the oversized bugs hadn't actually been able to reach them, but the noise… Kirito had spent the entire night wishing for bug spray and mosquito netting.

It was also probably the only floor so far that had made him regret his policy of sticking to dark leather armor. Fighting the giant, land-dwelling piranha that had been the Floor Boss had been a relief after the journey just to reach it; even the swarm of dog-sized piranha that had accompanied it had seemed a small price to pay for just getting it over with.

“I have tried to stay away from jungles since, myself,” Kizmel said ruefully. “I enjoy a good bath, but not while wearing armor. I suspect these mountains will be more agreeable for both of us. The air up here is refreshing. Although,” she added, turning head toward him, “the wyverns probably feel the same, and will not take kindly to interlopers.”

Kirito shrugged. “So everything will be trying to eat us. What else is new?”

She chuckled. “There is truth in that. If we can avoid too much conflict with our fellow warriors, I can face dragons well enough. I assume you've kept up your training as well as I have?”

“Of course.” Level-grinding was life for any gamer, much less one in SAO. The only reason Kirito had been willing to risk taking this one day off, gloomy mood or not, was that he was a little ahead of the curve even among clearers. Even without Kizmel's unexpected reappearance, he'd have gone right back to it the next day.

“In that case, we should both get some rest now. Tomorrow will be a busy day, Kirito.”

Watching out of the corner of his eye as Kizmel shifted to get under her blankets, Kirito heaved a discreet sigh of relief. For all his sense of having forgotten something important, it looked like he'd at least get through the night without anything hideously embarrassing happening. Tomorrow he'd see what could be done about getting more suitable lodgings for the two of them—

A knock at the door interrupted his own efforts at getting ready for sleep, and he froze. How many people would even know I'm here? Asuna must still be busy, Kibaou never came up to this floor at all, I can't imagine Lind coming to find me, and I barely even talk to anybody else, so who—? Wait. …Uh-oh.

The knock repeated, this time in a specific pattern Kirito remembered from arrangements on the very first floor. “Oi, Kii-bou! You still awake? I know you're here!”

That was what he'd forgotten. No wonder he'd felt like doom was coming ever closer all evening. I must have been out of it if I didn't think this would happen… What the hell do I do now?!

Another, more emphatic repetition of the knock, and Kizmel looked over at him, one eyebrow lifted. “Are you going to let her in, Kirito? She seems… insistent.”

He considered, very briefly, leaping out the window and taking his chances that way. He'd almost done exactly that once before, and thought in retrospect it would've been a safer choice all around. But no; when he hurried over to check, he realized that to try it here would be suicide. The inn was situated right at the edge of town, and by extension at the edge of a cliff. He could no more survive that drop than the one he'd almost suffered at the guard post.

I could just ignore it—no, no, if I do, she'll just track me down tomorrow and wonder why I was hiding. Hiding anything from her just doesn't work.

Swallowing, Kirito went to the door, mentally prepared himself for humiliation—or tried to—and opened it. “Hi, Argo,” he said, trying not to sound too nervous. “What brings you here tonight?”

Face mostly concealed by her trademark hood, he could still make out the ever-present grin and equally-trademark whisker markings of Argo the Rat. “Looking for you, of course, Kii-bou! What, you thought I wouldn't hear about what happened yesterday? I thought you might be lonely, so I—”

Kirito didn't like the way she broke off, but he couldn't claim to be surprised by it. No matter what, Argo was going to realize he wasn't actually alone, so he wasn't even really irritated that Kizmel had slipped out of bed to join him by the door. “Good evening, Argo,” she said, inclining her head. “It has been some time.”

Argo's eyebrows climbed toward her hairline. “Kizmel-chan? Well, well, Kii-bou! Gotta admit, ya surprised me this time. I figured you'd be alone, with Aa-chan off helping start the KoB, but here you've got Kizmel-chan back, sharing your room? How'd you pull that off?”

He thought he was going to spontaneously combust, as Argo pushed past him to sit casually on his bed. “Hey, Argo, it's not—”

Kizmel raised a hand, cutting him off. “I do not mind explaining, Argo,” she said, returning to her own bed. “Although if you're hoping to make money off the information, you may be disappointed. I doubt the tale is of much interest to other Swordmasters.”

“Maybe not,” Argo conceded, looking not at all subdued. “But you know me, I can't resist a good story. So c'mon, give! What brings you this far up, Kizmel-chan?” She grinned, an expression Kirito found not at all reassuring. “And more importantly, what brings you to Kii-bou's bedroom?”

In that instant, he knew what the value of the information was. Kizmel's unique nature meant her status was unlikely to be worthwhile to other players—but her presence here was excellent blackmail material, in certain circles.

Yep. I'm dead. Especially if she sells the story to Asuna. I should have just jumped out the window. It'd hurt less…

After Kizmel had finished her story, she stood, stretched, and headed for a door set in the wall a couple of meters offset from the one leading out into the hall. This far above the First Floor of Aincrad, amenities such as bathrooms were becoming more common even for regular inns—if you knew which ones to look for. Kirito had selected one such out of habit, despite Asuna no longer traveling with him.

“Argo's questions reminded me I should wash up before bed,” Kizmel said over her shoulder. “The journey through the labyrinth did work up a sweat. You two can catch up while I'm gone—unless you would rather join me, Kirito? It would be more efficient…”

Kirito was still sputtering, red-faced, when she chuckled and disappeared through the door.

When coherent speech did return to return to him, he covered his face with one hand. “She promised she wouldn't do anything like that this time…”

Argo's eyebrows went up. “Oho? You mean this isn't the first time, Kii-bou?” She grinned; not a pleasant sight, from his point of view. “Ya ever take her up on it?”

“Not on purpose,” he said without thinking. Then, realizing what he'd just implied, he buried his face in both hands. “Please, Argo. Don't tell Asuna I said that? I escaped with my life at the time, and it was a near thing then. What she doesn't know, she won't hurt me over.”

“Can't make that promise, Kii-bou. You know me: any information that's worth selling, I'll sell. But,” Argo added, raising one finger, “I only sell if somebody's buying. If she doesn't ask, you're safe.” Before he could feel any relief at that, her grin returned. “'Course, Aa-chan is bound to be curious when you turn up with Kizmel-chan for the boss meeting. Who knows what she might ask then?”

Kirito groaned, sliding down the wall he'd been leaning against to sit on the floor, suddenly weary and once again feeling a sense of impending doom. I don't get it. I didn't even really know any girls except Sugu before SAO; now I've got three hanging around, and all of them trying to complicate my life. What did I do to deserve this?

Times like this, it wasn't just guilt that made him regret leaving Klein in the City of Beginnings. He was sure life would be easier if he had more guys to hang around with; as it was, Agil was about the only one among the clearers who wasn't either hostile or condescending, barring the aloof Heathcliff. Among actual players, it seemed people like Asuna and Argo were the only ones crazy enough to want to chat with the infamous “Beater”.

Seeming to take pity on him—not that he trusted the change in attitude for a second—Argo flopped back on Kirito's bed, resting her head on her hands. “Jokes aside, Kii-bou,” she said more seriously, “how are you doing? I was worried when I heard about how that last boss went, y'know. And then when word got around about the Knights of Blood and their fast-as-lightning sub-commander, well… You'd been together for a long time, after all.”

“If you'd asked me a couple hours ago, I'd have said I was fine. And you'd have known I was lying,” he admitted, lifting his head. “I'm still not happy about it, I'll admit, but… I was the one who told her she should join a guild in the first place, back when we defeated Illfang. How could I complain about her taking my advice, especially after she showed the whole clearing group just how good she'd be at it?”

Argo rolled her eyes. “Like it'd be the first time you did something 'cause it was right, not 'cause you were happy about it? I know you didn't want to be 'the' Beater, Kii-bou, but you did it anyway.” Her mouth twitched in a warmer, less teasing smile. “Probably saved a lot of lives, y'know.”

“I hope so.” By the time the First Floor had been cleared, their best estimate was that nearly half of the eight hundred or so beta testers that had entered the full game had died. Kirito's desperate gamble to draw the ire of the likes of Kibaou on himself and away from the other testers had prevented the overt witch hunts he'd been afraid of, but there was no way to be sure there hadn't been more subtle efforts afterward.

So far, he'd only heard of MPKs, with no direct player-killing reported. Those were just as bad, though, and what Morte had once attempted on him proved there were those willing to dirty their hands personally.

“You did, Kii-bou. I know you saved mine. So,” Argo went on, shifting gears, “let me tell you what I think happened: seeing as you didn't bother to ask me for info about the new floor yet—don't think I didn't notice, Kii-bou—I think you found someplace to hide and lick your wounds for a couple days, right? Maybe that guard tower on the other end of town? Thought so. That was the first place I checked, but you were gone by the time I got there.”

Kirito didn't bother to ask how she'd tracked him to this inn after that. If she'd figured out he'd been at the guard tower, it was less than surprising she'd predicted his choice of inn. Not like she didn't know exactly where he'd stayed in every previous town, after all; she probably knew his preferences better than he did.

He had a sudden, chilling thought that she might sell that information. He couldn't imagine who would care, or why, but it was always a risk of knowing the Rat.

“Yeah, I had you figured out pretty well, Kii-bou,” Argo said sagely. “Gotta admit, though, I didn't expect this one. So…” She sat up, and co*cked an eyebrow at him. “Gimme the real story, Kii-bou. How the heck did you get Kizmel-chan up here? Don't worry, I probably won't sell the info; unless somebody else figures out how to do your version of the Elf War quest in the first place, it ain't worth selling.”

Probably wouldn't. Kirito found that so reassuring. Still… “I really don't know,” he said, shrugging helplessly. “I don't see any reason to think she couldn't have climbed the labyrinth towers, like she said, and I guess it makes sense that she'd be allowed through by the NPC guards, with the quest line finished… But I don't have any better idea than you do why she did. I haven't seen her in months. Honestly, I didn't even realize she'd still be 'active' without Asuna or me around.”

“She did stuff like that before,” Argo pointed out. “You weren't in the Dark Elf Camp instance when she followed you guys into town that one time, right? But yeah, at least then the quest was still going… Argh, I hate it when there's no info to get!”

“You're the one who said it probably wasn't worth selling anyway,” he pointed out.

“Well, sure, but it's the principle of the thing, Kii-bou! …Eh, whatever. You'll keep me updated, right?” When he nodded ruefully, knowing it was futile to try and hide anything from the Rat anyway, she grinned again, then sobered once more. “So. You gonna be okay without Aa-chan, Kii-bou?”

“I think so,” Kirito said quietly. “It's going to be… kind of weird, I guess, without her around all the time. You know, I've actually kind of gotten used to not being a solo all the time? I was wondering what it was going to be like, not being in a party again. Then Kizmel turned up, and, well, I guess I'm not going to have to worry about that just yet.”

“Good,” Argo said seriously, sitting up. “I worry about you sometimes, Kii-bou. You need somebody to watch your back. And Kizmel-chan's about the best backup you're gonna get without joining the KoB yourself, right? She's good with that saber of hers.”

“I do try, Argo.” Slipping out of the washroom, hair still damp but—to Kirito's considerable relief—her tights and tunic once again in place, Kizmel nodded at the information broker. “And I will certainly watch Kirito's back to the best of my ability, I promise you that. On my honor as a Pagoda Knight—and as a friend.”

“Good,” Argo said again, and jumped to her feet. “You guys'll be going to start exploring tomorrow, right? Want the latest Argo Guide before I go?”

Of course she wouldn't leave without trying to make a little Cor off me, Kirito mused. This is Argo we're talking about. Even with friends, she never forgets the bottom line. Even so, shaking his head, he handed over a hundred Cor in exchange for information Argo had already gotten from the players who had started exploring the new floor ahead of him. She might always be looking to make money, but her information was always good.

Chuckling, Argo headed for the door. “Y'know, I really can't wait to see what happens when you guys turn up for the boss strategy meeting in a couple weeks. I gotta be there, with a recording crystal; those will be some priceless jaw-drops, I bet… Anyway, there's your bed back, Kii-bou. I figure you need your beauty sleep.” Hand on the doorknob, she paused, grinned evilly, and looked back. “Well, unless you're gonna be sharing Kizmel-chan's bed?”

Kirito choked. “H-hey, it's not—”

“That would require Her Majesty's permission, Argo,” Kizmel said calmly—with just a hint of a smile, if Kirito wasn't imagining it.

Argo's grin widened. “Oi, Kii-bou—that didn't sound like an 'I'm not interested' to me. Maybe I should take a trip to the Ninth Floor and make a petition to the Queen…?”

“Argo!”

Chapter 2: Chapter II: Mountain Overture

Chapter Text

Chapter II: Mountain Overture

Wednesday, June 7th, 2023

Normally, Kirito set the system alarm to wake him quite early in the morning, sometimes well before sunrise. Being late to bed and early to rise was, after all, one of the ways he'd maintained his usual margin above other players—the margin of experience and resources that kept him alive, in a game where one misstep would kill him for real.

This one time, considering the circ*mstances, he'd allowed himself a couple of extra hours; enough time to make sure he was completely rested before setting out to clear the Twenty-Sixth Floor of Aincrad. After the last couple of days he'd had, he thought he'd earned it.
When the alarm did wake him, at eight in the morning, Kirito wearily swatted the immaterial button to shut it off before he even opened his eyes. He felt like he was missing something important, and that that something was going to be dangerous, embarrassing, or both. Argo was here last night, he thought groggily. And I think she left with blackmail material…

“Good morning, Kirito. Did you sleep well?”

Oh. That was what he was forgetting.

Pulling himself to a sitting position, back against the wall, Kirito looked over at the inn room's other bed, occupied by his Dark Elf partner. Still in her sleepwear, Kizmel was already sitting up, watching him with a small smile, leaving him to wonder with some unease just how long she'd been doing so. Had she been watching him sleep? And if so, for how long?

He still wasn't even sure if she did sleep, in any recognizable way. She'd spoken in the past of having dreams, so he suspected she did have some kind of equivalent, but she was still so much a mystery that he wasn't prepared to draw any conclusions about her programming.

“G'morning, Kizmel,” he replied aloud, yawning. “Yeah, I had an okay night… better than the night before, anyway. You?”

“It was agreeable,” Kizmel said in return. “Indeed, I think I slept better than I have in months. The inactivity in the capital must have been more oppressive than I thought. I'm looking forward to setting out. Shall we have breakfast, and see what information Argo brought?”

“Mm… yeah, good idea.”

Sliding out from under the blankets, Kirito swung his feet down to the floor, shifting so that he was facing her. Stifling another yawn, he swept his hand down to bring up his menu, opened his inventory, and materialized a pair of sandwiches. They were cheap, from an NPC vendor, but one thing he had made sure to do after reaching Skirloft two days prior was look into where to find the best food.

Kirito wasn't exactly a military otaku, but one aphorism he knew and believed wholeheartedly was that an army ran on its stomach. Even—no, especially when he was depressed, he'd make sure his meals were as good as they could be.

Tossing one of the sandwiches to his partner, he scrolled back through the list, selected the item Argo had sold him the night before, and converted it to an object, as well. Obediently, a small hardbound book, labeled Don't Worry, It's Argo's Twenty-Sixth Floor Strategy Guide, dropped into his hands.

Throughout the process, Kizmel watched with obvious interest, a wistful look in her eyes. “I still find the powers of human Mystic Scribing impressive,” she explained, when he looked at her. “I've learned to interact with it, but actually casting the charm is still beyond me.”

“That's too bad. But at least you're making progress, right?” Although Kirito was frankly confused by the whole thing. He still wasn't sure how his party invitation the previous day had even worked; for that matter, he didn't know how she interpreted the very idea. He was pretty sure she didn't think in terms of HP, for one thing.

“Some. I asked Viscount Yofilis about it once, actually. He said that, as far as he was aware, the charm is a particular power of humans—but he also said there were stories of a handful of Dark Elves, before the Great Separation, who were granted use of it as reward for deeds of valor in the assistance of human kingdoms.” Kizmel shrugged, pausing to take a bit of her sandwich. “Of course, with the fall of the Nine Kingdoms since the Great Separation, I don't know who might be capable of granting it now.”

“There's still a way,” Kirito said, convinced despite having no evidence. “We just have to find it, right? Aincrad's a big place, and it's full of surprises.” Like us sitting here talking at all. If even the floors I thought I knew had twists like this, who knows what else we might find?

She smiled warmly. “Yes. You're right, of course. It would hardly be the first great achievement we've made together, would it?”

Not by a long shot. Between Kizmel's own off-the-rails nature, Viscount Yofilis leading Dark Elf reinforcements in to bail out the raid group during the Fourth Floor boss fight, and a dozen other incidents along the way, Kirito suspected they'd done quite a few things Kayaba Akihiko himself had never planned on.

If the man hadn't trapped them all under conditions of true death, Kirito would be deeply grateful. Sword Art Online was, in some ways, the most unpredictable game he'd ever experienced. It might be trying to kill him every single day, but it certainly wasn't getting stale, even after seven months logged in.

Good thing the gameplay at least is consistent, though, he reminded himself. Otherwise we really would all be dead by now.

Starting in on his own sandwich, Kirito flipped open the strategy guide with his other hand and began reading. Unsurprisingly, in just a day Argo had tracked down every regular quest with a contact in Skirloft itself, and her guide even gave a suggested priority list based on rewards and tentative risk assessment. I have to wonder, though, how Kizmel interprets regular quests. Do players like me just come across as workaholic do-gooders? For that matter, how does she rationalize multiple people doing the same things for the same people?

Maybe she just wrote some of it off as having lost something in translation. He knew that was how she'd viewed some of the gaming terms thrown around in her presence, back when they first met.

Well, that's not really important just now. We'll work things out… Ah, here's the main quest for this floor.

There must've been some change in his demeanor when he got to the important part, as Kizmel raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction. “Something interesting, Kirito?”

“Yeah. Just got to the stuff about the main conflict on this floor. Hm… Argo didn't have much as of yesterday, but she does say where we should start looking into things.”

She shook her head. “Before I met you and Asuna, I had no idea just how chaotic the rest of Aincrad had become,” she admitted, when Kirito looked at her questioningly. “It seems as if every floor has some kind of ongoing crisis, on top of your efforts to unify the Castle as a whole.”

Kirito reached back to scratch his head nervously, remembered at the last moment that he was still holding a sandwich in that hand, and compromised by taking a big bite out of it instead. “I underestimated it myself, back when I left the City of Beginnings,” he said honestly. “But so far, we've done all right, one way or another.”

Not just for the sake of becoming stronger, either. For good or ill, Kirito had gotten truly emotionally involved in more than one of the quest lines on the way up Aincrad, and not just those relating to the Elf War. On the one hand, he supposed it wasn't good for his mental health to get so lost in the game; on the other, the more he did exactly that, the less likely he was to forget the stakes were nothing less than life and death.

“You certainly did well by the elves,” Kizmel mused, gaze turning distant for a moment. Remembering the highlights, and low points, of the Elf War, he supposed. Coming back to herself, she continued, “So? What crisis do the residents of Skirloft and its neighboring towns face?”

“Hm…” Kirito carefully read over Argo's notes, laced with snark and gameplay tips as they were, and considered how best to translate the information into something his partner would understand. “Well, it looks like it's based off—rather, related to an old human story…”

“Really old-school stuff,” Argo's notes read. “Kayaba's riffing off a game from twenty years ago. Dunno why he even bothered with lawyer-friendly misspellings; not like anybody these days is gonna remember it. It was kinda obscure back when it came out. But eh, whatever. Looks like fun, if ya don't mind death traps.”

“Apparently,” Kirito went on, “this floor contains a gateway of some kind. It's been dormant since the Great Separation, but the residents of Skirloft want to reactivate it. Something to do with making contact with dragons from an old order of knights… Argo thinks that there's more to it, though, that more gates will need to be reclaimed on higher floors.”

To his surprise, Kizmel nodded thoughtfully. “I have heard such tales myself,” she said. “The order's name is lost now, but my people remember that, before the Great Separation, there was a group of dragon-riding knights who served to keep peace between the Nine Kingdoms of Man, Lyusula, and Kales'Oh. Around the time of the Great Separation, though, the order was destroyed by treachery from within…”

That matched up eerily well with Argo's brief synopsis of the apparent source material. Kirito would've been even more unnerved, especially given his long-held suspicions that the backstory Kizmel had given of Aincrad wasn't entirely crafted by Kayaba's hand in the first place, were he not so used to it by now. By this point, his general policy was just to listen carefully and try to connect the dots.

Who knew? Someday the history of Aincrad, as Kizmel told it, might actually be important to a quest.

“It is said that the surviving dragons did, indeed, seal themselves in slumber beyond four gates,” Kizmel was saying now. “If those gates were lifted with Aincrad in the Great Separation, reawakening those dragons could well aid in securing the safety of all, human and elf alike.” She nodded again, more decisively, and smiled. “No doubt other Swordmasters will have already set out on this quest—but we'll catch up to them soon enough, won't we, Kirito?”

He smiled back. Finishing off his sandwich, he snapped Argo's strategy guide shut and stood. “Of course we will. Besides, the KoB will still be getting set up, and even Lind will have been set back recovering from that last boss fight. Somebody's gotta pick up the slack. You ready to go, partner?”

Kizmel swallowed the last bite of her own breakfast and also stood. “Of course.” Tapping the spot on her shoulder where her insignia as a Royal Guard would normally sit, she summoned her usual armor into being, and with it her shield and saber. Raising her fist in a gesture Kirito had taught her many floors below, she said, “Let us go—partner.”

Grinning, Kirito bumped her fist with his own. “Time to get to work.”

After Kirito had re-equipped himself with his trademark black coat and his current one-handed sword—the Dignitas Sword, a simple but strong blade he'd acquired from a quest two floors below—and Kizmel had donned her usual dark armor and cloak, the pair headed out into the sun. By now, other players were also abroad and hurrying about, some of them clearers, others the usual crowd of lower-level players still exploring the latest town.

With more than just the relatively insular group of the clearers about, Kizmel was already starting to get a fair number of double-takes, and a few outside of the clearers who kept enough of an eye on progression to recognize Kirito himself sent dark mutters his way. Long since used to it, he did his best to ignore it, deliberately keeping his attention on Argo's guidebook instead.

“I suppose it will be some time yet before humans are accustomed to seeing my people,” Kizmel commented, apparently unperturbed. “Our races have kept away from each other for many years now… So, where do we start, Kirito?”

“Well,” he replied, heading off down Skirloft's streets, “I'm good for supplies and gear repairs; I did take care of that much the day we opened up this floor. You?”

“My journey here was smooth enough,” Kizmel answered, matching his pace. “I will not need to mend my equipment so soon. Barring, of course, unexpected hazards on this floor.”

“Like hungry wyverns?” Kirito shook his head ruefully. Argo didn't yet have a comprehensive list of the enemies on the Twenty-Sixth Floor, but her guide did mention that most of them seemed to be wyverns of varying size, habit, and temperament.

“Watch out for some of the caves,” she'd written. “I know the main quest on this floor is supposed to be about good dragons, but some of the NPCs had some pretty dire warnings about what's in a few of the holes in the ground. Dragon hoards, the kind they keep track of down to the last coin. Now I don't expect Smaug here, but you know what they say: Meddle not in the affairs of dragons, for you are crunchy and go well with ketchup.”

Even for Argo, Kirito thought, that one was a bit weird. He got the reference, at least—or half of it, anyway—but it was still weird.

When he relayed the comment to Kizmel, her eyebrows went up. “Smaug? And what is ketchup? A human spice?”

“Smaug's from… another human story,” Kirito said, flipping back to the quest location section of the guide. “That one's not real… I hope. And ketchup is a sauce humans put on meat… Ah, here we go.” He brought up his menu with his free hand, then the map, and traced a path down Skirloft's streets with one finger. “There's a tower at the other end of town, not far from the guard post I was using yesterday. We need to talk to a Master Soveth, who should tell us where we need to go first.”

Kizmel studied the route herself, nodded, and smiled. “Let us be off, then. I'm eager to see what challenges await us here.”

The trip across Skirloft was an interesting one, Kirito had to admit. With Asuna, he'd long since stopped needing to explain most details of SAO, and they'd passed the floors he had any prior knowledge of months before. She'd also gradually thawed—well, a little, anyway—from the cold front she'd presented to him in the early days, so their conversations while traveling were usually about trivial things like the design choices of the various towns and floors, or battle strategies for the latest enemies they'd encountered.

Anything about their lives outside of SAO, of course, had been forbidden by unspoken agreement. Even after months of traveling with the girl, Kirito still knew practically nothing about Asuna's real-world life, other than the few hints she'd given when Lind's arrogance pushed her buttons on the Third Floor. Likewise, he'd spoken to no one about his own life—not that his life was likely to have been of much interest anyway, he thought.

Kizmel was different. Full of curiosity about how humans lived, openly walking the streets of a human town for the first time, she was looking at Skirloft not from the perspective of a gamer admiring a programmer's work, but someone newly introduced to human society.

Answering the questions her observations prompted gave him pause a couple of times, as he struggled to explain game conventions in a way that Kizmel would understand, but Kirito didn't really mind. It was actually kind of fun, even if it did sometimes require him to dredge up bits of trivia he vaguely remembered reading about online sometime.

Okay, so I don't really know anything about how stone houses are made, he admitted to himself. But that's something she does know, so… fair trade? I bet Asuna would know, though.

He shoved that thought firmly out of mind. It wasn't like Asuna was dead or anything, and dwelling on their former partnership, and the gap in what had become a comfortable routine, wasn't a good idea when they'd be fighting for their lives soon. Depression, in Sword Art Online, could be fatal.

“I think my people are missing out on much,” Kizmel mused, as they passed a large, intricately-carved church building in the central square of Skirloft. “Our own towns and cities are beautiful, but… perhaps we could learn variety from mingling with humans more. To us, a place such as this would be worth fortifying, nothing more. Certainly not a place to build a city.”

Remembering the homes of the Dark Elves, Kirito nodded thoughtfully, forgetting for a moment that the Elves didn't technically “build” any of it. “I could say the same, though,” he said. “So far I haven't seen anything in human towns in Aincrad like Yofel Castle.”

He had very fond memories of Christmas at the hidden Dark Elf fortress on the Fourth Floor. It had also been the site of one of the events that had most easily made him forget he was in a video game at all, when the Forest Elves had attacked and he'd taken the desperate gamble to convince Viscount Yofilis to lead the defense.

It had, really, been exactly the kind of event he'd have been most enthusiastic about if it really had still been just a game. As it was, Kirito couldn't deny he was proud of how the battle had gone.

“You have a point,” Kizmel allowed. “Well, hopefully our peoples can learn from each other, then.” Pausing, she tilted her head thoughtfully. “What about in your own world? Are there no structures in your homeland that resemble the likes of Yofel Castle?”

Kirito started. Kizmel had expressed interest before in learning about where he and Asuna came from, but it was still an unusually direct question, even for her. It was also just about the first thing to make him think much about the real world in several months now.

“Um, well,” he began, fumbling for an answer, “I guess I've heard of some pretty impressive places… but no, I can't say I've seen anything that compares with it. Not quite.”

He supposed the Imperial Palace itself might qualify, but even that wasn't quite the same. Being surrounding by the modern skyscrapers of Tokyo kind of marred the effect, however much the Palace grounds had been kept the same for so many years.

“That's too bad.” Looking ahead, where a tower was just now coming into view, Kizmel's voice took on a wistful tone. “Perhaps when you return, you will have a chance to see your own people's wonders with your own eyes… …I wonder if I might have the opportunity, myself…”

The last sentence was quiet, soft enough that Kirito wasn't even sure he was meant to hear it. Kizmel… seeing the real world…? Something in his chest felt tight at that, knowing—as she didn't—that as an NPC, regardless of what happened when Aincrad was finally conquered, there was no way for her to leave this world.

No. There's a way. The sudden tension loosened at his realization. There's still the question of what happens when SAO is finished—but if we can get past that, there's at least web cams, right? And all sorts of things can be modeled in a VR environment. And maybe someday…

Kirito shook his head rapidly. This wasn't the time to be thinking that far ahead. For right now, he had to keep focused just on surviving SAO itself. Nothing else mattered if he got himself killed. Or Kizmel, for that matter; even if she, being an NPC, was able to respawn, he suspected it wouldn't be his Kizmel that appeared afterward.

Luckily, further conversation and brainstorming alike were put off by their arrival at the tower Master Soveth was supposed to live in: the tallest building in Skirloft, right at the edge of town, made of the same imposing stone as the rest. Unlike Skirloft's other buildings, though, Soveth's Tower looked like one solid piece of stone, as if it had been chiseled out of a single, improbably-huge quarry stone.

The only noticeable seam was around a door, which from the look of it had still been hewed out of the same stone; even its handle was simply a carved recess. Exchanging a look with his partner, Kirito shrugged, grabbed the handhold, and heaved, hoping that the door wasn't as heavy as it looked.

It wasn't quite. From the amount of effort it took to pull, though, Kirito was willing to be that someone with a lesser strength stat wouldn't have been able to open it at all; definitely not a place for low-level players, which he supposed was just as well. Every now and then, even knowing the risks, lower-level players did get ahead of themselves, and pay for it.

Rather than a proper entranceway, the door led directly onto a spiral staircase, which somehow didn't surprise him. It was the kind of thing a place like this would have, in an RPG; no self-respecting denizen of such an imposing tower would deign to live on the ground floor.

Thank goodness our avatars don't get tired, Kirito thought wryly, starting the ascent. That's a lot of stairs.

“Do Argo's notes say anything about what kind of person this 'Master Soveth' is?” Kizmel asked as they climbed.

“Just that he's 'exactly the kind of guy you'd expect to be living in a wizard's tower',” he quoted with a shrug. “Which means he's probably, um… eccentric?”

I wish she'd been more specific, actually. The kind of “Master” that lives in a place like his is usually either a crazy old man, or else—

“Ah. More Swordmasters… Dare I hope you're any more competent than the usual glory hounds?”

—Grumpy, Kirito finished mentally, eyeing the bearded, grizzled old man waiting for them.

The room at the top of the spiral staircase was absolutely full of books, with a handful of shelves that contained more esoteric items instead. Skulls, jars of preserved biological specimens—some of which Kirito carefully did not look too closely at; anatomy wasn't his strong point, but some of those things looked a little too human for his liking—and a variety of crystals, some of which were recognizable as the same sorts players used.

All of it was lit by candles and the sunlight that reached through the gap between Aincrad's floors, filtered in through a single window each to east and west. Behind a table covered in notes, beakers, and at least two skulls, a man whom Kirito could only describe as a well-groomed but otherwise stereotypical sage or wizard was leafing through a book with a Latin title, looking distinctly unimpressed by his visitors.

He also had the distinctive golden exclamation point of a quest NPC over his head.

That's my cue. Kizmel, obviously, wouldn't know exactly how to interact with an NPC outside her own quest line; her human-like AI would actually be a disadvantage in such situations, capable of understanding without the knowledge that other NPCs weren't.

Clearing his throat, Kirito said, “Competent at what, exactly, Master?” That was the trigger phrase for this quest, according to Argo; simple enough to infer from Soveth's words, but likely to trip up players relying on the usual NPC triggers.

As expected, the exclamation point turned to the question mark of a quest in progress, as Soveth sighed and set his book aside. “The ignorant do not seek me out, Swordmaster. I know you'll have been sent for my guidance. A worthy cause, of course, but so far only dullards have undertaken it. The best advice is meaningless to ears unwilling to listen…”

“There have been others before us, Master Soveth?” Kizmel asked curiously.

Of course, she still wouldn't understand the nature of MMO quests. Fortunately, there was an in-universe relevance to the question, and Soveth's harrumph proved Kayaba had anticipated it himself. “Of course. Mostly foolhardy young souls who think to make their fame restoring the Order all by themselves. Never mind that the gate in these mountains is only the start… So far not one has managed to return from the first step.”

Kizmel shot Kirito a concerned look, but he only shook his head slightly, giving her a reassuring smile. Obviously, with any RPG only an actual player would be able to get anything done.

“What needs to be done first, Master Soveth?” he asked.

“The first thing that needs doing is opening a path to the gate,” Soveth replied, turning to the shelf of crystals behind him. “Before the Great Separation, magic opened many doors that remained closed to the weak and unworthy. With the loss of magic, other routes must be taken, with what lesser powers still remain.” He shook his head irritably. “A thousand years ago, the Master of this Tower could have gone right to the Gateway Chamber, without relying on young fools with sharper steel than wit, but needs must…”

One thing both the absent-minded and grumpy sage archetypes had in common, Kirito decided: they both had a lot of trouble getting to the point. One would keep forgetting what he was doing; this kind knew exactly what he was doing, but felt the need to complain about it first.

A for more moments of rummaging and muttered imprecations, and Soveth turned back to them, multifaceted crystal in hand. “Here,” he said gruffly. “Take this to a cave north of Skirloft, past the first rope bridge. This crystal, pathetic as it may be, is powerful enough to break the first seal on the door to the Gateway Chamber. Just make sure you put it in the right place—and try not to break it in some damned dragon-slaying heroics, will you? Even meager charms such as these are quite troublesome to produce in this era.”

“Quite an impatient man, wasn't he?” Kizmel commented, as they made their way back down the Tower, Soveth having made their dismissal quite clear by sheer indifference to their continued presence. “He rather reminds me of the priests at Yofel Castle, actually.”

Kirito nodded, remembering the frankly useless Dark Elves that had had so much influence in the elven fortress. Complacent nearly to the point of suicide, they'd gone so far as to ban the wearing of armor, simply for the noise it made. In a fortress, they'd banned armor. Kizmel, he recalled, had found the whole thing extremely uncomfortable.

Though personally, he had to admit he'd thought the dress looked pretty good on her…

He shoved the thought out of his head. Even with Asuna elsewhere, it just didn't seem like a safe thing to be remembering. Regardless, it was lucky for all of them that Viscount Yofilis had been so much more reasonable.

“I do have to admit to worrying about the other Swordsmasters he mentioned,” Kizmel continued. “Do you think this task is really so dangerous?”

“He said glory hounds,” Kirito reminded her. “Sharper steel than wit, he said, right? We're more careful than that.” He gave her another smile. “If you ask me, they probably just took one look at the wyverns, panicked, and ran. Probably just dropped the crystals on the way and didn't want to admit it to Soveth.”

“I probably would not, either,” she admitted. “Assuming I was cowardly enough to simply turn and abandon my duty in the first place.” She nodded sharply, looking more confident now. “You're right. Just because some warriors with more self-confidence than sense failed does not mean we will. Together we have overcome greater threats than mere wyverns.”

“We sure have.” Giant spiders, spiders of merely unusual size, Forest Elves, Fallen Elves, a major naval battle… and those were just the incidents in the first two weeks of their acquaintance.

Let's not forget the human drama, either, Kirito thought wryly. Lind, Kibaou, Asuna's unpredictable temper, Argo… I really hope she doesn't tell Asuna too much too soon… Yeah, we can handle this.

Besides, he mused, as they stepped back into the morning sun, how bad can it be? This is just the first quest of this set. Those are never that tough.

Hours later, as his simple Slant took the head off a Clipped-Wing Cave Wyvern, Kirito cursed himself for tempting fate. The albino, flightless, fire-breathing wyvern now shattering into polygons was the half of the last pair blocking their way out of the cave they'd been sent to.

A cave that turned out to have about one pair of wyverns for every five meters of tunnel. Only a handful had been able to breathe fire, fortunately tending to be in more open areas where there was room to dodge, but that was still an awful lot of hungry, angry reptiles.

Kizmel's Horizontal Square turned his target's companion into blue shards a moment later, the momentum from the Sword Skill carrying her out into the sun ahead of him. She spun in place immediately, checking for more mobs, before her tense shoulders relaxed. “It's clear, Kirito!” she called.

Trotting gratefully out of the cave, he quickly joined her in the fresh air. “Well,” he said, breathing heavily. “I didn't expect that. …I should've known we weren't done with caves just yet.”

“Hopefully the next floor will have more open ground,” she agreed. “But at least we accomplished out task here. We can report to Master Soveth a complete success.” She smiled wryly. “Perhaps he'll raise his estimate from 'foolhardy' to merely 'reckless'.”

Kirito laughed. “Yeah… maybe so. Though personally, I'd settle for the next objective having a little less fire.”

Be fair, he told himself. It still wasn't the worst “first quest” you've done, right? And if you'd remembered that Magnatherium—which, of course, was not a bear—we might've been ready for even worse, and been glad this was so “easy”.

He twitched then, and glanced nervously over his shoulder, back into the cave they'd just escaped. There he was again, tempting fate; hadn't he learned by now just how bad an idea that really was? Certainly there was no question they'd be dealing with something on the level of that fire-breaking ursine sometime during the quest, but there was no sense inviting it early.

“Right,” Kirito said hastily, when he was sure nothing was about to start chasing them. “Back to Soveth's Tower.” He checked the time in his display. “Hm… if we're quick, we might be able to get the next part of the quest done today, depending on how far we have to travel.”

“Then let us hurry,” Kizmel said with a nod. “I'm not averse to a late night if need be, but I would rather not sleep in the field if it can be helped. The lingering ancient magic may keep certain areas safe, but it does nothing for ingrained reflex when creatures pass too close to the thresholds.”

Kirito remembered giant mosquitoes, and shuddered. “Yeah. I'll take a nice, soft bed, thanks.” I do still need to figure out how to get Kizmel a separate room tonight, though… I'll think about that while Soveth is insulting us over the quest rewards.

In the end, Master Soveth gave them a disdainful look that Kirito thought masked a certain degree of surprise, pronounced them “marginally competent”, and sent them on their way to the second seal with another magically-charged crystal. This one, he warned them with a sniff, would explode if used improperly. “Improperly”, apparently, meaning anything that involved more than the bare minimum jostling just of carrying the thing.

All in all, nothing new to Kirito. Any longtime RPG player knew all about the repetitive quests that involved doing the same thing five times over, with minor variations of enemies, puzzles, and other hazards; potentially destructible key items were nothing particular special.

When the moon was rising into view between the floors of Aincrad, casting stark white light over the pair of adventurers, Kirito cursed himself for yet again tempting fate and underestimating the task. It had taken three times as long as he expected, involved twice as many fire-breathing wyverns as the first leg of the quest, and carried hazards Soveth had apparently known but neglected to mention.

“He knew the sealing ring was in the middle of a wyvern nest, and didn't mention it,” he complained to the world at large, as the two of them trudged back out of Soveth's Tower yet again. “You'd think that might be important to know. Not to mention that the wyvern mothers feed the young ones live Fire Goats…”

“It does seem a careless oversight,” Kizmel agreed sourly, rubbing at her face. “Although personally, I would have been just as interested in knowing that the crystal was going to explode even when used according to his instructions. Had you not realized the significance of the crystal's flashing light, we might not have gotten out of range in time.”

“If you can even call it 'out of range'.” Kirito shrugged, dispersing some of the same ashes that blackened Kizmel's already dusky skin from his shoulders. “I've seen something like that reaction before, that's all… I didn't think a spell would go up like it used black powder, though.”

Succeeding at last in scrubbing some of the soot off her face, she glanced at him curiously. “Black powder?”

“Er, a human explosive powder,” he said, scratching the back of his head. “Ancient stuff; I haven't seen any of it in Aincrad. Breaking that spell did a pretty good imitation of the stuff.” Idly, he brought up his menu and checked the quest status. “Hm… Well, it looks like the next step will take us clear to the next town. I guess this is as good a time as any to call it a day.”

“I agree. Tomorrow, perhaps we can finish the tasks we have left in Skirloft, and head for our next destination.” Kizmel brushed at her face again, grimacing at her lack of substantial success. “Besides, I'd like to wash up before anything else. This soot is being surprisingly stubborn.”

Kirito nodded, and brought out Argo's strategy guide again. If he was right, they were a bit ahead of schedule going by when they started, which should put them about were they'd have expected to be had they begun the quest the day the floor became accessible. Considering that the organized clearing groups were still consolidating their positions, that wasn't half bad progress.

A quick glance confirmed his guess at least matched up with Argo's estimates. Looking further, though, something else caught his eye. “Well, that's great,” he said, disgusted. “I wish I'd noticed this earlier… Looks like one of Argo's contacts already dealt with Soveth for something else, and his 'magic crystals' have a known side effect.”

Kizmel lifted an eyebrow in his direction. “Besides exploding?”

“Well, that, but the point is, when they explode in certain conditions—like, say, around Fire Goats—the combination produces an ash that gradually dissipates over several hours, or with some kind of special soap.” Kirito shook his head. “Exploding crystals, exploding goats, and clingy ash. This floor has a bad sense of humor.”

Privately, he thought it was one of the pettier things Kayaba had arranged. The whole “trapping ten thousand people on threat of death” he could at least grasp, however horrible it was. This? This was pure annoyance for the sake of itself, like any normal game developer might've done.

This once, Kirito would've preferred Kayaba hadn't acted like a normal dev.

Kizmel was grimacing again, and he thought she might actually have glared at one gawking passerby; not normal behavior for the elf, whom he was used to seeing calm and amiable in almost all circ*mstances. Then again, I think that was one of the Divine Dragons, somebody who was present when we had to bluff two guilds out of killing each other. Guess even Kizmel's fuze has an end.

“A special soap,” she repeated, turning back to him. “Does Argo's guide provide the details? Ordinarily I wouldn't waste my time on this, but I doubt sleeping while covered in ash will be very comfortable.”

Kirito didn't disagree there. Somehow the stuff had gotten under his coat, and it wasn't a comfortable sensation. “According to Argo,” he said, checking further in the guide's comments, “it can be obtained from adult Fire Goats. We didn't face any today… but I do know someone who probably has some by now. Knowing Agil, he probably has samples of pretty much everything Argo would know about by now.”

“Agil?” Kizmel frowned in obvious thought. “Ah. The large ax-wielder, isn't he? I don't believe I was ever formally introduced, when last I traveled with you.” A short pause as she seemed to consider the idea, then she shrugged. “Not quite the way I would have preferred to meet him, but I suppose there's little choice. Do you know where he is?”

Starting to walk into Skirloft, Kirito consulted his messages, compared with Argo's guide, and finally checked with his map of the town. “If I know him, he'll be in the merchants' part of town. That would be… this way.”

She quickly fell into step with him. “Then by all means, let us hurry. The sooner we can wash up, then sooner we can rest for the morning. There still remains much for us to do on this floor, and I for one don't wish to be distracted from a field guardian by mere dirt.”

They found Agil right about where Kirito had expected to, renting a stall in what passed for Skirloft's merchant quarter. This late, he was dealing with a handful of returning players straggling in from grinding out in the dungeons; from the look of it, though, the big, dark-skinned ax wielder would soon be closing shop for the night.

Privately, Kirito was relieved to see him still doing business at all. Most player merchants weren't, that late; but Agil had apparently realized that the dedicated players who burned the candle at both ends were a potential untapped market.

As he and Kizmel approached down the torchlit street, Kirito suppressed a grin at the sight of one last player walking away from the stall with a glum expression. He'd seen it before: the look of someone who regretted doing business with Agil because of how sharp a bargainer he was, and was doing it anyway because Agil's reputation for honesty was well-earned.

“Thank you, come again!” Agil called after the man with a cheerful wave. “A pleasure doing business with you… Oi, is that you, Kirito?” He turned his grin in the black-clad swordsman's direction, the expression turning less “evil businessman” at the same time. “Wondered when I'd see you. What, did you actually take a day off yesterday or something?”

“Something like that,” Kirito admitted, stepping up to the stall's counter. “I needed a breather after that last boss fight… You know how it was.”

“Yeah. Sure do.” Agil, too, had fought The Adamantine Arachnid, and as a tank had taken more than his share of hits from the giant spider. “You doing okay? I mean with Asuna leaving to join a guild and all… Eh?” He trailed off, finally noticing Kirito's companion. “Excuse me, Miss. I don't believe we've been properly introduced.”

Oh, that's right. I guess they never did actually talk back then, did they? Kirito knew that Agil had at least seen Kizmel a few times, most notably the boss fight against the Hippocampus that had brought in an entire party of Dark Elves, but now that he thought about it they probably hadn't been within close proximity otherwise.

“Ah, right. Agil, this is Kizmel, Royal Guard and member of the Pagoda Knights of the Kingdom of Lyusula,” he said, gesturing grandly at his companion. “Kizmel, this is Agil, merchant extraordinaire and ax-wielding tank of the clearing group.”

Kizmel bowed, then extended a hand in human fashion, as Kirito and Asuna had taught her months before. “A pleasure to meet you, Master Agil,” she said. “A… tank? Ah, yes, one who takes blows so that others can strike while the enemy is distracted. Kirito explained it to me some time ago.”

Agil shook the proffered hand, a strange look on his face. “Yeah, that sums it up pretty well. You can just call me Agil. Buy cheap and sell cheap, that's my motto.” He shot a sharp glance at Kirito. “Uh… is she…?”

“A Dark Elf, not a human Swordmaster,” Kirito said in his best, Don't ask here, I'll explain later, tone. “She and I met during the Elf War quest that started on the third floor, and she just came to this floor yesterday, looking for Asuna and me.”

“That's right,” Kizmel confirmed. “I had hoped to fight alongside them again; and if Asuna is no longer by Kirito's side, then it is all the more important that I be here.”

“Huh.” Agil's face was still full of curiosity, but he let the matter drop. “Now that's a story I'd like to hear someday. But if I know you, you're here for some business, and then a nap.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Got anything to do with the fact that you two look like you walked into a cartoon bomb?”

Kirito grimaced. He'd hoped it hadn't been that obvious. He liked to think he didn't worry too much about his appearance, but he couldn't deny a certain liking for looking sharp. After all, if he was going to be “the Beater”, at least he normally looked stylish doing it.

Smelling like this stuff isn't helping, either. If real black powder smells anything like this, no wonder nobody uses it anymore.

“We had an encounter with Fire Goats,” Kizmel informed the merchant, looking even less happy than Kirito did. “Along with a magic crystal whose creator failed to inform us was quite as volatile as it proved to be. We were hoping you might have a particular item that is supposed to be able to wash the ash off…?”

Agil nodded. “Fire Goat Fat Soap,” he said, not even bothering to check his inventory. He grinned. “Would you believe you're not the first people who've stopped by asking for that today? Though I don't think the others had any magic crystals involved. For what it's worth, Fire Goats just seem to blow up when you kill 'em.”

Kirito sighed. “So the crystal just acted like a big AOE… Figures. Please tell me you have some? Not sure I believe the whole 'sell cheap' part, but you're the one who's most likely to have it.”

“Kirito, that hurts,” Agil said, touching his chest with exaggerated grief. “Is it my fault not everybody really knows what stuff is worth?” He grinned again. “Ah, forget it. Yeah, I got some. It's been selling pretty well, seems like most of the clearing group is hitting the area where those goats hang out, but I got two bars left.”

The price he cited made Kirito wince a little, but only at Agil's shrewdness. It certainly didn't put that much of a dent in his Cor; it was just another sign that Agil knew exactly what the real market value was for practically anything conceivably worth selling.

He must buy the info from Argo, Kirito thought, handing over the coinage. Heck, that's probably half her business, helping the merchants figure out how to price things. And then selling the info about each merchant's prices to all the others… Is there anything the Rat won't sell?

Actually, he suspected he didn't want to know the answer to that. Knowing Argo, it was entirely too likely he'd ask a question he didn't want the answer to, as a test, and then get it.

Agil handed over two cloth-wrapped bundles in exchange for the Cor. “Two bars of Fire Goat Fat Soap. Use 'em wisely, they're the last ones in stock.” He grinned again, with a more playful edge this time. “I expect to have more in tomorrow, so stop by when you get back from your adventuring. It'll be here when you need it.”

After thanking the big merchant—Kirito sourly, Kizmel with some enthusiasm—the pair headed back toward the edges of Skirloft. By now there were even fewer players on the streets than when they'd headed for the inn the previous night, and Kirito counted that as a small comfort, in the wake of Agil's parting words.

“He's probably right,” Kizmel commented sadly, wiping futilely at her face again. “Today we only encountered Fire Goats in the Wyvern Nest, but we're likely to encounter more on the road to the next town. Hopefully we will find lodgings there with as good bathing facilities as here.”

Nodding glumly, Kirito had gone another twenty meters down the street before the implications registered. Lodgings—bathing—uh oh. I completely forgot to look into separate inn rooms today! Um… I could ask Argo, if anyone would know, she would—

No. Bad idea. Then she'd find out about the soap, and then she'd suggest it'd be cheaper if we just shared one, and then Asuna would find out somehow, and—No. Just no.

He didn't know how Argo would find out about the soap just from asking about inn rooms, but he was sure she would. Anything involving Argo and baths would inevitably go horribly wrong. He knew that all too well.

“I'm sure we'll find something that will work out,” Kirito said aloud, trying very hard to banish those dark premonitions. “Even the cheap inns I've seen lately have had decent baths and stuff.”

“Good.” With a sigh, Kizmel abandoned the doomed attempt at wiping off the soot—even without its special clingy properties, the sleeve she was trying to wipe with was just as covered itself. “In the meantime, let us return to our current room, clean off this filth, and rest for the morning's journey.” She glanced sidelong at him. “Do you object if I take the first bath, Kirito? I fear I was somewhat closer to that last goat than you.” Her lips quirked in a teasing expression, one that filled him with instant dread. “Of course, if you'd prefer, it might be easier if we helped each other wash off—”

“No!” Kirito yelped, loud enough to draw curious glances from the few other players still out and about. “No, that's just fine, I can wait—”

Kizmel's soft laughter followed him clear back to the inn.

Kirito never did figure out a proper solution to the dilemma of finding separate lodgings, even when the floor's quest lines took them off to the next town and beyond. He was stymied by the basic problem that Kizmel could interact with menu elements, but couldn't initiate them herself; and while it was possible Argo might've known something he didn't, he just couldn't bring himself to ask her. Not with the blackmail material she already possessed.

It didn't help that Kizmel herself didn't seem to consider it a problem at all. The one time he brought it up, she just laughed and reminded him that they'd once spent an entire week sharing a tent. So long as there were two beds, as far as she was concerned the simple savings of only renting a single room outweighed any potential issue.

Kirito didn't exactly agree, but there was little else he could think of to say. Without any ideas of how to work out separate rooms from a systems standpoint anyway, he was forced to concede defeat.

He did get used to it, eventually. Somewhat. Fortunately, Kizmel at least was willing to make concessions to human customs of modesty, even if she did still make the odd comment about battlefield standards being different.

Clearing the Twenty-Sixth Floor overall went slower than the past few floors had. Despite their two-day delay, Kirito and Kizmel still ended up blazing a trail ahead of most of the rest of the clearers, most players not even seeming to have noticed the “Beater's” temporary absence.

It wasn't too surprising. According to his news from Argo, the Army had completely abandoned progression and had withdrawn their total force to the First Floor. Most of the unaligned clearers had been snapped up by the new Knights of Blood, who were still organizing themselves. That left, really, the Divine Dragons Alliance, and the handful of remaining solos and small groups like Kirito's own two-person party.

Progress continued nonetheless. Agil made a tidy profit selling soap during the period players fought their way through Fire Goat territory; Kirito and Kizmel fought through a couple more wyvern nests and succeeded in opening the way to the Gateway before most others were even aware of the quest line's existence.

That part had proven underwhelming. Activating the ancient gate, a stone circle big enough to let through a field boss, had made it glow around the edges, and done basically nothing else; when Kirito reported it sourly to Argo, she'd just laughed at him and told him anticlimactic went with the source material.

All in all, though, the slog through the Twenty-Sixth Floor, no matter how many times he was nearly blown up, set on fire, eaten by wyverns, or some combination of the three, wasn't the worst experience Kirito had had in Aincrad. Kizmel was by his side throughout, and though she no longer seemed to have the overwhelming strength she had as a Quest NPC, she was still as powerful as would be expected from a player at the same level she was.

Powerful, and smart. If Kirito had somehow retained any doubts that she was more than just another NPC, their journey through the Dragon Floor would've cured them. She was just as quick to pick up his cues as ever, no matter how colloquial he got. Even if she didn't understand the exact reference, she usually managed to get the point.

It wasn't quite like traveling with Asuna. That didn't mean that the experience was worth any less, though. By the time they delved into the labyrinth leading up toward the next floor, Kirito was once again fully comfortable trusting his back to his elven companion.

That did, of course, still leave the question of what the rest of the clearing group would think. Having been busy dealing with the ancient gateway when the floor's field boss was fought by the others, their team had yet to have much contact with the DDA or the KoB since Kizmel arrived. Given that even Argo would only sell information that was directly requested, as far as Kirito knew neither of the guilds was aware of the unexpected assistance.

Until, of course, the boss room was found within the labyrinth, and a strategy meeting was called in Craglen, the town closest to the dungeon pillar…

Saturday, June 17, 2023

Walking into the large meeting hall in Craglen that the clearers had co-opted for the boss planning meeting, Kirito felt more self-conscious than he had at such a gathering in months. He'd never been comfortable being at the center of attention, and he was pretty sure he was going to be today.

He wasn't concerned about being recognized. Whether any given clearer still thought of him as the “Beater” or not, they all at least were familiar enough with his presence not to make a fuss; even Kibaou's diehards had mostly accepted that Kirito at least pulled his weight in a boss fight too well to object much now. No, it wasn't his own appearance that he was worried would cause a scene.

With the hours they'd been keeping, it was about the first time he and Kizmel had been around a large gathering of players since the Dark Elf had arrived at the frontlines in the first place. With the chaos the last boss fight had left among the clearing group as a whole, the two of them had mostly slipped through the floor's quests unnoticed.

Not so today. Accompanied in broad daylight by a girl with pointed ears, a trait no player avatar had, Kirito got more than a few double-takes as he and Kizmel moved to join the meeting.

I have to admit the look on Hafner's face is pretty funny, though, Kirito thought, walking past the DDA member standing just inside the meeting hall's entrance. The poor guy looked like he'd seen a ghost—probably, Kirito reflected, remembering Kizmel's dramatic introduction to the clearing guilds way back on the Third Floor.

Getting close to the large room where the other clearers were gathering, Kirito heard voices already speaking. From the sound of it, things had started a few minutes ahead of schedule; he hoped they hadn't missed anything important.

“…We've seen a fair few solos come up, now that Kibaou's group has retreated,” he heard as he reached the door. “People who were afraid to get involved, with his influence. And the KoB's recruiting has gone well; helping the Legend Braves get back on their feet looks like it'll pay off.”

Asuna, Kirito realized, feeling a rush of warmth at how confidently his former partner was addressing a roomful of clearers. Sounds like she's doing okay.

He walked into the room, Kizmel by his side, just in time for another to speak up in worried rebuttal. “There have been reinforcements, certainly,” the blue-haired man sitting at the opposite end of the hall's central table said, frowning. “Even with the solos, your KoB, and the DDA, however, I'm afraid we'll still be one or two short in the boss raid itself. The numbers just clearing the labyrinth have been lower than on past floors.”

“Word of the last boss fight spread,” Asuna acknowledged calmly. “Players are worried. We're back in the same position we were on the very first floor—and the solution is the same as back then, Lind: win this battle, and prove that those casualties were a fluke.”

Lind. The man didn't look as confident as he usually did; Kirito rather thought his demeanor was reminiscent of just after the Illfang battle, when he'd been rattled by Diavel's death.

Kirito wasn't surprised. Lind had tried very hard to fill Diavel's place, but had never quite duplicated the fallen beta tester's confidence or charisma. The rise of the Knights of Blood was proof enough of that.

Asuna, now—her appearance he could make no quarrel with at all. She was wearing an ornate, red-trimmed white uniform now, fancier than the practical garb he was used to seeing her in, but she wore it well, and her face and voice both held the same confidence that had let her take control of the last floor boss raid when it nearly fell to pieces.

Kirito did admit to himself some puzzlement, though. Although he sat at the table with the KoB contingent as well, dressed in white-trimmed red, the guild's actual leader was completely silent. For whatever reason, Heathcliff seemed content to let his second-in-command do all the talking for now.

“That may be true,” Lind conceded now, as Kirito and Kizmel settled quietly against one wall to watch, “but as I'm sure you're recall, even Illfang wasn't defeated without cost. Indeed, I notice even your own former partner has hardly been seen since reaching this floor—”

“What cost us against Illfang was overconfidence,” Asuna interrupted. “We all know better now. As for Kirito-kun, I'm sure he's just been working alone, like he always does. He'll be here for—” She interrupted herself this time, glancing at the back of the room. “Kirito-kun, there you are! Are you… all… right…?”

Asuna's startled gaze locked on her now, Kizmel raised a hand in greeting. “Hello, Asuna,” she said with a smile. “It's been some time.”

In an instant, the cool, collected Knight of Blood was forgotten. Asuna pushed to her feet, hesitated for a moment like she was considering leaping clear over the table, then quickly rushed around it and players gathered around to throw herself at the elf. “Kizmel-chan!”

Kizmel returned the embrace readily. “I am glad to see you're well, Asuna,” she said in the fencer's ear. “When I found Kirito without you, I was worried.”

“I'm just fine, Kizmel-chan. It's just… things happened, that's all. I'm sure Kirito-kun has told you about it by now.” Seeming to remember that there were over forty sets of eyes staring at them, Asuna pulled back, but left her hands on the elf girl's shoulders. “But what are you doing here? I thought—you had other duties?”

Kirito coughed, covering a chuckle at Asuna's echo of his own verbal stumbles the previous week. At least he wasn't the only one still having trouble mentally translating things.

“My people are at peace, so I was given leave to rejoin your struggle, Asuna. I hope there is no objection to my joining your upcoming battle?”

Kirito wondered about that, taking the rare chance of no one paying any attention to him to look them all over. Some of them had at least seen Kizmel before, like Lind himself—who, Kirito noticed, was looking at least as poleaxed as Hafner had. Most of those present, though, had no idea who Kizmel was, not having been part of the clearing group when Kirito and Asuna had run their strange variation of the Elf War quest line. Despite the lack of cursor indoors, they could tell she was an NPC, and that just made things even more confusing.

One or two of those players did have the presence of mind to shoot Kirito questioning looks. He just smiled blandly in return, feeling absolutely no need to let them know that, honestly, he was just as confused as they were. He'd built his rep on being nearly as knowledgeable as Argo the Rat, after all.

“Well, I certainly don't mind!” Asuna declared. Turning to her own guildmaster, she gave Heathcliff a look that somehow managed to be both respectful and challenging. “Leader?”

Heathcliff gazed at Kizmel for a long moment, face inscrutable. Kirito thought there was some measure of curiosity in his steel-gray eyes, but the expression of a man who remained calm in the face of the disaster that was The Adamantine Arachnid wasn't an easy one to read.

“Given that we were just discussing our potential shortage of fighters,” he said at last, “I certainly see no reason to turn down an offer of assistance, however… unorthodox.” He turned to the other guild leader, raising one eyebrow fractionally. “Lind? Do you have any objection?”

Lind stared several seconds longer, then shook himself. “No,” he managed. “No, that's fine with me. I expect Kizmel-san's participation will be of particular benefit to Kirito, given recent changes in organization.”

Translation, with Asuna finally having come to her senses, I'll have a partner just as strange as me, who probably can't be teamed with anybody else anyway. Kirito shrugged internally. If that's how you have to see it, Lind, fine. I don't know why you still think I really care about your opinion.

“Then I believe it's settled.” Heathcliff nodded to the elf. “Welcome to the clearing group, Kizmel-kun.”

Kizmel brought her fist to her chest in salute. “Thank you… Guildmaster Heathcliff, I believe Kirito said? I look forward to working with you.”

Kirito wasn't sure that was quite the end of it, since most of the players—DDA, KoB, and solo alike—didn't have the least idea what was going on. Most of them, though, seemed willing enough to defer to Heathcliff for now, and if there were some confused mutters about NPCs and Beaters, Asuna's glare was enough to keep them quiet.

A glare that quickly turned back to a smile, when the KoB sub-commander turned back to the elf girl. “I really am glad to see you, Kizmel-chan,” she said softly. “I have guild duties now, but after the battle, I'd like to talk more.”

“Of course, Asuna,” Kizmel said, with an answering smile. “We have a great deal of catching up to do, don't we? Although I expect my life has been less interesting than yours, since we parted in the capital.”

Asuna reluctantly released Kizmel's shoulders and headed back to her place with the KoB contingent, motioning with a glance for Kizmel and Kirito to sit at the far end of the table. Not, Kirito knew, as an insult, but because Asuna knew him well enough to know he preferred some distance.

He was grateful for that. He might've been getting used to the idea of not being allowed to go completely solo, but large groups were something he still wasn't comfortable with, and figured he probably never would be.

From there, Kirito assumed the meeting would get back on topic. Just as he and Kizmel were sitting down, though, one of the mutters from farther down the table got just loud enough not to be ignored.

“An NPC, in a boss fight, with no quest?” It was Shivata, Kirito thought, another of the original DDA members. “Am I the only one who thinks that's just a little strange?”

Asuna was quick to turn her sharp gaze on him again, but before she could really turn up the intensity of her glare, Heathcliff raised a hand. “I admit to being curious myself,” he said. “Kirito-kun, may I ask just how you gained Kizmel-kun's friendship to begin with? I've not heard of such a close alliance between human and elf before.”

The KoB guildmaster was being careful to use terms that didn't break immersion, too, Kirito noticed curiously. He wondered about that… The only reaction he allowed himself to show, though, was a small smile and an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, Heathcliff, but I don't think Argo would appreciate my giving that information away for free.”

That was true enough. More importantly, in Kirito's mind, was that it delayed Asuna from asking any questions about just how long Kizmel had been traveling with him, and what exactly they'd been doing. It wasn't like Argo was in a position to answer anything directly just then, anyway.

Heathcliff's eyebrow went up again. “Is that so? Hm… Fair enough.” He looked over to the farthest corner of the room, and raised his voice. “Argo-kun. How much for that story?”

Kirito started, and whipped his head in that direction. He hadn't even realized Argo was present, but there she was, leaning so still and quiet against the wall that he'd overlooked her completely. I shouldn't have, he thought, mentally kicking himself. Argo's almost never around for a boss fight, but she does turn up for the planning…

The self-styled Rat grinned. “Three thousand Cor for the grand tale of the Elf War, Master Heathcliff,” she answered, crossing her arms. “Another five hundred for the story behind Kizmel's arrival here.”

“A fair price,” Heathcliff said with a nod. Briefly manipulating his menu to materialize a pouch of coins, he set it on the table and slid it over toward the info broker.

Argo stepped over to retrieve it, tucked it under her cloak, and slid a slim pamphlet over in return. “Pleasure doing business with you, Master Heathcliff.”

Kirito gulped. Asuna's gaze was shifting rapidly between him, Kizmel, Heathcliff, and the Rat, growing more suspicious by the moment. Finally, she said, “Argo. A copy of that last, please.”

There was definitely something sharp in Argo's grin now, as the five-hundred-Cor coin was exchanged for a slimmer collection of pages. One which, Kirito noticed, she'd pulled right from her belt pouch, not having needed to go into her inventory for it.

I am so doomed. The boss will be the easy part of today…

Kizmel leaned closer to him. “Argo is certainly a clever bargainer,” she whispered. “Is such a simple tale truly so valuable?”

The rest of the gathered players were finally getting to the business of actually discussing boss battle strategy. Kirito… just laid his head on the table and groaned.

No more mountains, no more caves. The Twenty-Seventh Floor was a place of open fields and green forests, not too different from the areas closest to the City of Beginnings, and much brighter than the last two floors had been. Doubtless there were monsters in the tall grass and hiding among the tree branches, but the atmosphere was still somehow more optimistic.

Part of it, Kirito supposed, might've been purely psychological. After all, reaching Skirloft had come on the heels of the most costly battle the players had yet faced, where by contrast the arrival at the town of Florencia was a victory march.

Not that Sharza the Corrupted Dragon had been easy, especially since the raid group had been two people short of full, but they'd pulled it off without a single casualty. Naga of the Divine Dragons had gotten himself flung into a wall hard enough to put his HP in the red once, and that was about the worst of it.

“I hate flying mobs,” Asuna sighed, idly swirling her cup of moontear wine. “But at least it couldn't cling to the ceiling like that spider. Thank goodness for enclosed spaces.”

Under the circ*mstances, Heathcliff had given her a couple of hours off when the clearing group emerged onto the new floor, allowing her time to catch up with old party members before she got back to organizing the KoB's share of the spoils. The three of them were gathered now in a cafe a good distance from the town's entrance, far enough that other players likely wouldn't be arriving for a little while, at least.

“I heard the field boss, Torza, was pretty tough because of that,” Kirito agreed, between bites of the pastry he'd ordered. “Kizmel and I were busy with about a dozen fire-breathing wyverns in the Gateway Chamber at the time, so we missed it. Lucky us?”

Asuna favored him with a disdainful glance, though there was humor glinting in her eyes. “Yeah, sure, lucky you. You do know you missed out on a pretty good LA Bonus, right?” She thumped the light chestplate she wore over her KoB uniform. “Dragonscale Armor. Argo says I probably won't find better for a couple floors yet.”

The gamer in Kirito's soul cried out at the lost opportunity, but he firmly suppressed the reaction. “That's not the kind of armor I wear anyway,” he said, with as much dignity as he could muster.

“Yeah, of course.” She rolled her eyes. “You even missed the LA on Sharza, though. Good job, Kizmel-chan.”

Kizmel glanced up from her inspection of the blade she'd laid on the table before her. “I only did my part,” she said modestly. “It's mere coincidence that mine was the final blow. Not,” she admitted, “that I do not appreciate the reward. The blade Her Majesty entrusted to me remains a great honor, but I fear the foes on these higher floors might soon be too much for it.”

The sword that lay between them now was a saber, much like the blade of the Pagoda Knights that Kizmel had used up to that point. It bore a more golden sheen, though, and Kirito's quick check of its stats had revealed it to be much stronger than its predecessor. The Corrupted Sword of the Order would, he suspected, serve Kizmel for at least the next five floors.

Knowing that his former partner and current one would both be better protected was enough to offset the sting of having missed two consecutive Last Attack Bonuses. No question about it. And he really didn't use much metal armor, and had never used a saber at all since the beta.

Definitely better that the items went to those two.

“Enough about items and bosses, though.” Asuna sipped at her wine, turning a serious gaze on the elf. “You're really joining the clearing group, Kizmel-chan?”

Kizmel nodded. “For as long as I'm not needed by my Kingdom, yes. From what Her Majesty said, my presence will likely not be required there for the foreseeable future; with peace made with the Forest Elves, and the Fallen Elves defeated, there simply aren't any noteworthy threats.”

“Peace, huh… It must be nice,” Asuna said wistfully.

“It does make serve to make all our sacrifices worth it.” Kizmel picked up her own cup of wine, gazing down at the dark liquid. “…I only wish that Tilnel were here to see it…”

Kirito exchanged a quick look with Asuna. To this day, they didn't know for certain if Kizmel's sister had existed at all, given the nature of Aincrad and its quests; it was just as likely that Kizmel herself hadn't existed as such until the moment they got in range to see her confrontation with a Forest Elf.

And yet—Kizmel did have some faint memories of the beta test, even if she didn't understand them. Clearly, there was something about her that had existed before that day, somehow.

Kirito had mulled the whole thing over often, in the days they'd fought beside Kizmel. By now, he'd decided to believe that Tilnel had been real, however briefly. The timing of SAO's launch, over a month before the beginning of that first Elf War quest, made it just barely possible. That was good enough for him.

Kizmel visibly shook off the old memories, and looked up at her companions with a smile. “Well. If I'm to be honest, that really is part of what inspired me to come all this way, Asuna. I was… well, feeling lonely. The two of you were better friends to me than any I'd had before, and aiding your quest seemed a better use of my time than pointlessly patrolling a peaceful kingdom, alone.”

Friend. That was something Kirito wasn't used to being called, as close as he'd always been to being a true hikikomori. He'd had people on his friends lists in various MMOs, of course, but that was just a gameplay mechanic; none of those on it had ever been anything more than occasional allies on virtual battlefields.

She was right, though. Kizmel and Asuna, even that troll of a Rat Argo, they were his friends. Agil was edging close, too, and if he hadn't left the samurai that first day, he supposed Klein could've been one, but these girls were the people who'd gotten closest to him in a long, long time.

It felt strange, but not bad. Kirito wasn't sure he deserved it, after the way he'd abandoned Klein to protect his own skin, yet he couldn't bring himself to push it away. He wanted the warmth it brought him.

Asuna reached across the table to take Kizmel's hand. “You're always welcome here, Kizmel-chan,” she said firmly. “You are our friend.” She smiled warmly. “I'm really glad to see you again. I missed you.”

“Thank you, Asuna.” Kizmel took a sip from her glass, and lifted an eyebrow. “So how are you doing? Now that you've joined a guild, that is. Kirito said you've been involved in setting the organization up?”

“Ah, that.” The fencer leaned back with a sigh. “Well, it hasn't been dangerous… but I admit the field boss was actually kind of a relief. The KoB is still small, but I never realized how much work went into establishing a guild.” She shot a glance at Kirito. “You've been doing this kind of thing for years, you could've warned me!”

He raised his hands. “Hey, solo, remember? Like I know anything about being part of a guild? I only knew about the quest to set one up because I was in PUGs with a few people who were in guilds. I sure don't know anything about what's involved in guild leadership.”

“Oh, right… Figures.” Asuna shook her head. “I guess I just got used to you knowing everything else about these situations… Next time I'll ask Argo.”

“She isn't part of a guild, either,” Kizmel pointed out. “I believe she once said it would be a 'conflict of interest'?”

“Sure, but have you ever found anything she didn't know?”

Kizmel hesitated, then shook her head with a chuckle. “Point taken. I sometimes worry she knows more about my own Kingdom's military deployments than I do.”

Kirito wouldn't have been too surprised if that was true. Especially since the Dark Elves' “deployments” were limited to the needs of SAO's quests, and thus easy enough for a determined player to track down. Good thing she's not likely to sell to hostile NPCs. She might sell practically anything to other players, but she's not going to actively sabotage the clearing, no matter how much Cor she's offered.

Asuna sobered. “So yeah, I'm doing okay, but… I admit I was worried about Kirito-kun.” She shot him quick glance, more open than she usually was with him. “I know, I know, you were the one who always told me I should join a guild if the right person asked, and I know you think I'm strong enough now not to need your help, but I still didn't like the idea of you going back to being solo. Especially not after how bad that spider was.”

“He will not be alone, Asuna,” Kizmel assured her. “My sword will be with his.”

“Thank you, Kizmel-chan. That takes a real load off me.” Asuna downed the last of her Moontear wine, sighed once more, and stood. “Well, I suppose I should be getting back to the guild now. We'll have to start planning the exploration of this floor soon, after all.”

The other two stood as well. “We'll probably be going on ahead, then,” Kirito told her. “Last time, we had a late start, then pulled ahead, and still managed to miss an entire boss. We're not letting that happen again.”

She reached out to touch her fist to his. “Then I'd better be seeing you in the field, Kirito-kun. If I catch you slacking off, you'd better believe I'll call you on it.” Despite her words, she was smiling. “I know we're not partners anymore… but I'm looking forward to still working with you on clearing, Kirito-kun.”

“Likewise,” he said, and somewhat to his own surprise meant it. “I may be solo—er, almost solo—but we're still working toward the same goal. Just don't let the DDA get too far ahead of you, okay? I'm sick of Lind posturing at being 'Diavel's successor'.”

“Believe me, I hated that even more than you did.” Asuna turned to Kizmel, and pulled the elf into a sisterly hug. “I'm really glad you're back,” she said into Kizmel's shoulder. “I wish we had more time to talk… Now, I can't be looking out for Kirito-kun all the time, so take care of him for me, will you, Kizmel-chan? You know how reckless he can be.”

The dusky girl nodded against Asuna's hair. “You have my word, Asuna. As a knight—no, as a sister-in-arms. We will see this journey through to the very end, all of us. To the Ruby Palace itself.”

Chapter 3: Chapter III: Black Cat Requiem I

Chapter Text

Chapter III: Black Cat Requiem I

It was the dreams that spurred her into action.

Originally, they'd begun the night after she first met the human Swordmaster in black. Dreams of the battle with a Forest Elf, a battle he and his elegant fencer companion had helped her to win—except in the dreams, his companion was not a lady fencer, but a small group of other young swordsmen. Their faces changed, depending on the dream, as did his garb.

One thing that was constant between them was that in the end, she always died, as he looked on sadly.

That was part of what had driven her to join his small party, following even when his aims had little to do with her own people. She wanted to know why he affected her so deeply, and what it meant that she dreamt so consistently of fighting alongside him, only to die in his defense. It meant something, she was sure of it; he'd never explained, but she could see he recognized something from her descriptions of the dreams. They were more than just her mind playing on her own fears.

Across seven floors, though, she'd never found an answer, and when they'd finally parted ways on the Ninth Floor, the dreams had stopped.

For months after, she'd patrolled her people's capital, relieved by the end of the war yet still feeling somehow unfulfilled. In time of peace, her own homeland held none of the excitement of traveling with him, with the black-clad swordsman and the fencer she'd come to regard like her own sister. She was restless, unused to having no battles to fight.

More than that, she felt alone. Somehow, the other Dark Elves in the capital felt flat, utterly lacking the rich warmth, humor, and shared experience that the two humans with whom she'd once traveled possessed. Maybe it was just that, in the heavily-guarded city, none of them had ever seen battle themselves. Maybe it was more than that. She wasn't sure.

She wasn't sure what to do about it, either. There simply were no more battles for her to fight, as a Pagoda Knight. With the coming of peace, it seemed as if the entire Kingdom had lost something.

Then the dreams came again, and she realized what it was she really wanted to do. There were no battles the Kingdom needed her to fight, but there was still something for her personally: a quest, as her human friends might have put it. Dreams she still wanted to know the meaning of, and friends she wanted to help.

She'd seldom felt so relieved as when Her Majesty granted her request to take a leave of absence, and seek out the two humans who had once done so much for the Kingdom of Lyusula. She had taken only enough time to gather her few belongings and inform the commander of her Knighthood, then set off at once for the Pillars of the Heavens that the humans used, which would take her higher in the Steel Castle than her people's trees.

She'd told her Queen the truth: that she felt a debt of honor to the Swordmasters who helped save their Kingdom. More than that, though, she just wanted to be with her friends.

Kizmel wanted to know what the meaning behind the dreams was. What, exactly, the connection was between her and the Swordmaster Kirito, who threw himself into the conquest of Aincrad with greater fervor than any Elf or even human than she'd ever known.

Why did she dream about him, so soon after they met and so often? Why did he look so sad? And why, when she spoke of it, did he seem to be hiding something?

Monday, July 10th, 2023

Kizmel had learned a great deal about the Swordmasters, the immensely powerful warriors Aincrad's bastions of human society had summoned to protect them, since first meeting Kirito and Asuna. More than she had about the people the Swordmasters championed, certainly.

Her friends had done much to educate her on the strange dialect most of them borrowed heavily from, though even they often seemed baffled by the speech used by Guildmaster Kibaou—Kirito had once muttered something odd about “Kansai-ben”, but had been too busy to elaborate at the time—and apparently couldn't find equivalents of some terms at all. That had gone far to smooth interaction with the other “clearers”, the group of Swordmasters most active in conquering Aincrad.

Just as much as she'd learned, though, Kizmel still found strange. Such as why, exactly, they had to be so cautious, almost furtive, in their expedition to the Eleventh Floor.

As they made their way down the hallway of a dungeon in an out-of-the-way corner of that floor, hunting Giant Bats, Kizmel gave voice to her confusion. “Tell me, Kirito. I understand that this ruin has more of the monsters needed for tempering your sword—but why is it so important that we be so discreet? I've not known you to be concerned about others being angry over something as simple as improving your own weapons or armor.”

Kirito was silent for a long moment, peering down the hall with a glow in his eyes she'd learned to associate with the heightened senses Swordmasters could invoke. The pause, she suspected, was as much from concentration on his task as it was from trying to decide how to explain yet another human oddity.

“More bats, about twenty meters away,” he announced quietly. “As for why I want to be sneaky… Um. Well, it comes down to this: you know how all Swordmasters arrived in Aincrad with the same strength and equipment, right?”

“So I understand,” she confirmed, taking a position on his left flank as they moved toward their hopefully unsuspecting targets. “The charm that summoned you gave you all equal power and armament on arrival, right?” She hadn't met any Swordmasters until they'd been in Aincrad for over a month, but she knew the stories fairly well. Better, once she'd had incentive to learn more.

“That's close enough… Well, that meant we all began this quest on an equal footing. Theoretically. Practically speaking, some of us took to fighting better than others, and some of us were… let's say better informed on how to find the things we needed to become stronger.” They reached the doorway leading to where Kirito had sensed the Giant Bats. “That led to a gap between groups of Swordmasters. Some of us are simply stronger and more capable than others—and people being people, that got a lot of resentment brewing.”

They positioned themselves to either side of the door, weapons ready. “This is related to why Guildmaster Kibaou hates you?”

“There's more than a few people who think people like me got an unfair advantage,” Kirito acknowledged. “Enough of one that it looked like there might be violence, for a while. …Hang on, here they come.”

They'd been very quiet, after reaching the threshold, but Giant Bats had excellent hearing. From Kizmel's experience, just the sound of two swordsmen breathing would be enough to get their attention, when close enough, and the sudden eruption of enraged squeaking proved her right.

Unluckily for the Giant Bats, they were up against two warriors who had recently descended from killing the Pillar Guardian blocking the way to the Thirtieth Floor. Kizmel launched herself forward, her Corrupted Sword of the Order trailing crimson light in the simple but effective Reaver technique; to her right, Kirito was pulled along by the azure glow of a Sonic Leap.

Two blades that could and did threaten Pillar Guardians from much higher up the Steel Castle tore the bats to pieces, shattering them into glimmering triangles like all the dead of Aincrad.

Kizmel exchanged a human “high-five” with Kirito, then watched with some envy as he examined the plunder from their fallen foes through his Mystic Scribing. She knew he had been envious, a time or two in the past, of the items she'd been gifted as a Pagoda Knight, but in her view that all-purpose human charm was much more impressive.

She'd learned to interact with it herself, when conjured by a human. She still hoped to somehow obtain full use, someday.

“Well, there's the Giant Bat Fangs I needed,” Kirito announced, waving the immaterial writing away. “I think that just leaves the Bony Rat Exoskeletons you need for your chestplate, and then we're done here.”

“I'm glad. It is getting rather late.” No doubt his Mystic Scribing gave him a more accurate estimate, but her own thought was that it was past nine at night. With how remote these ruins were, it would nearing midnight before they returned to town. “You were saying, before the fight?”

“Hm? Oh, right.” Kirito grimaced, shrugging shoulders encased in black leather in a way that seemed to deliberately emphasize the coat. “It never actually came to blows, but it was a close one, right after we defeated Illfang. I managed to head things off, but… I kind of painted a target on my back in the process.”

That much didn't surprise Kizmel. More than once, she'd seen him defuse a conflict between others by deliberately drawing ire onto himself. Once, if she and Asuna hadn't been there, she wasn't sure he wouldn't have been hurt. For someone who always seemed to be alone, Kirito came across as nearly incapable of not helping others, even at great risk to himself.

“I take it Kibaou was there, then,” she said, putting his words together with what she'd seen of Kibaou's behavior toward him in the past.

“When I first got labeled 'Beater'?” Kirito nodded. “Yeah. Kibaou admired the raid leader, Diavel, a lot, and blamed me for Diavel's death. Not that he was alone in that, but Lind, at least, seemed to get over it… Well, even Kibaou had mellowed some by the time the Twenty-Fifth Floor boss finally drove him off the frontlines.” Another shrug, and he turned to head back into the hall. “Anyway, what it boils down to is that there's still a wide gap between clearers and non-clearers, and there's still finite resources for everybody to use.”

The puzzle started to come together in Kizmel's mind. “Lesser warriors are farther behind, still using lesser equipment and hunting on lower floors…”

“And they don't exactly like it when people who 'don't need it' poach their hunting grounds.” He nodded again, giving her a smile that looked strangely surprised by—proud of?—her insight. “Now, what we're doing is pretty harmless, really. The gear that uses these items can't even be used by the kind of Swordmasters that are still on this floor. But they won't have any reason to believe that that's all we're after, so things could get a bit sticky if anybody catches us here.”

Now it all made sense. Kizmel still had some questions, especially as to why the Swordmasters seemed to be such a divided group in the first place—weren't they all supposed to be fighting toward the same goal, after all?—but within the framework of such divisions, Kirito's concerns were perfectly understandable. Humans and Dark Elves were very different people, but plain envy was a sin Elves were just as prone to.

She did notice, though, that he left unsaid that he was probably in more danger than almost anyone else. Kizmel suspected the initial stigma of being the “Beater”—whatever that meant—had worn off by now, if only because of how few people had been present for the incident, and because of how solitary Kirito's own habits were; but she could read between the lines well enough to know there was something about him that would label him as a strong Swordmaster on sight.

Herself. As far as she was aware, no other elf, be they Dark, Forest, or Fallen, had entered such a close partnership with any human. Even those who had not seen the Swordmaster Diavel die, had never laid eyes on Kirito himself before, would recognize their partnership as unusual the moment they saw her ears.

“I see,” Kizmel said finally, accompanying her friend back into the dungeon's labyrinthine corridors. “Then by all means, let us be quick, and quiet. Of course,” she reminded him with a reassuring smile, “if need be, we can hide quite well.”

Kirito looked at her in momentary confusion, blinked, and then gave her a relieved grin in return. “Right, the cloak. How could I forget? Well, then, as long as we don't get into a fight when others are nearby, we should be fine.”

A sound plan, and one that kept both their spirits' up as they resumed their hunt for Bony Rats. With Kirito's uncanny ability to sense anything that wasn't outright invisible, and a few things that were, they were unlikely to be caught unawares. They'd have plenty of time to conceal themselves, if other Swordmasters wandered by.

Of course, neither of them counted on hearing an entire party of them yelling for help.

A pack of goblins. That was the first thing Kizmel noticed, as she and her partner rushed toward the sounds of battle. Though quite weak, especially compared to her own strength, they tended to travel in greater numbers than other foes of this dungeon, and it appeared someone had managed to attract more than one group of them.

She and Kirito could easily have dispatched even that number of them, or at the least cut a path of retreat. To a group of Swordmasters of the skill level that would normally be fighting on this floor, though, it was very possibly a lethal situation.

Desire to avoid trouble or no, she wasn't surprised when Kirito rushed right into the rear of the goblin pack. “Hang on!” he called out to the besieged party, and launched a Horizontal Square at the first goblin to get within reach. A slash from right to left caught it in the back, then his sword reversed, with the second blow leading right into a spinning third, culminating in a final forehand slice.

Flawless, as always. Far more than was necessary to kill one goblin, really—and it left him overextended for a moment, delayed by the backlash of his own technique.

They both knew exactly what to do in that kind of situation, though. By the time Kirito called “Switch!”, Kizmel had already leveled the point of her saber at a knot of goblins trying to gut a black-haired girl with a spear, who flailed ineffectually in defense.

Kizmel didn't slow as she approached. Instead, as white light began to gather around the tip of her blade, she accelerated, feet blurring as she pushed her body to its limits. Letting out a shout, when the light reached its brightest she surrendered herself to the Sword Skill's pull.

Propelled by the power of the charm, her feet left the floor entirely, and she crashed right through three of the goblins, the shockwave of her passage scattering two more to either side. Strewn about like they'd been caught in a storm, the malformed mockeries of civilized kind shattered into glittering azure shards.

She made a mental note to thank Viscount Yofilis for teaching her that technique, when she could. Mastering it had been difficult, and its use was somewhat situational, but it had served her very well indeed.

“Stay back!” Kirito instructed the apparent leader of the group, spinning to face another of the goblins. “We'll handle this!”

The staff-wielding young man nodded jerkily, eyes wide. “Thank you! We'll be counting on you, then!”

“Don't worry,” Kizmel told the girl she'd rescued, recovering from the position her Flashing Penetrator had left her in. “You're safe now.”

She didn't wait for a reply, instead tearing into another goblin with a Reaver, taking the weak monster's head off with a single blow. In the recoil from the strike, before she could attack again, one more roared at her and tried to lop off her sword arm, but her bracer held off the blow easily enough; a mace wielder from the party they were rescuing then ventured a quavering yell and bashed the back of its skull.

Not enough to kill the abomination, but easily enough to knock it off-balance long enough for Kizmel to recover hers and skewer it.

Against a party of appropriate strength to the Eleventh Floor, a dozen or so goblins was a terrifying threat. To a pair of clearers, who routinely scouted areas guilds would normally take entire parties into, they were more of a warmup, a welcome change from the monotony of hunting individual monsters—Swordmasters called them mobs, Kizmel reminded herself—for hides and teeth.

With the occasional aid from the rescued party, Kirito and Kizmel made quick work of the goblins. A short period of bright flashes and shattering noises, and the only occupants of the hallway were five humans and one Dark Elf.

After cutting down the last of the pack, Kirito swept his gaze up and down the corridor, eyes glowing a vivid green. A few moments of intense concentration later, he nodded sharply and relaxed his stance. He swept his sword up to his left, back down to his right, and then sheathed it, a pattern Kizmel had frequently noticed him following after a fight but had never gotten around to asking about.

“That's all of them in this part of the dungeon,” he announced, turning back to the group they'd just saved. “Still, you should probably head back to town, for now…” Kirito trailed off, noticing they didn't seem to be listening. “Um. Guys?”

The leader shook himself, but didn't quite take his eyes off what had distracted him. “Oh! Ah, thank you, er…?”

“I'm Kirito,” her partner said, bowing. “This is my partner, Kizmel.”

Kizmel bowed in turn, then saluted in the manner of her own people. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she said. “I hope we were in time?”

That was something she was concerned about. In addition to the staff-wielding leader, the lancer girl, and the youth with the mace, there was another spearman and a boy with a dagger—five Swordmasters, and one short of the maximum that could be bound in a party by Mystic Scribing. Kizmel hoped they were simply a party of five to begin with, and that she and Kirito hadn't arrived too late for someone.

“Er, yes, Kizmel-san,” the lancer girl said, bowing deeply. “Thank you very much for your help!”

Kizmel relaxed. All five of them were clearly hurt—Kirito, she knew, would be able to tell more accurately, with his full use of Mystic Scribing—but among the Swordmasters, any wound that wasn't fatal could always be mended well enough.

If they'd suffered no casualties, then she could guess easily enough why they seemed to startled. Their leader's stare was proof enough.

“Thank you for the help, Kirito-san,” that leader said again. “But, ah, if you don't mind me asking… isn't that an NPC? How…?”

NPC. Kizmel had heard Swordmasters use the term many times, in the months she'd traveled among them. It didn't seem to refer strictly to non-humans, as she'd known Kirito and Asuna to use it in reference to humans who weren't Swordmasters; conversely, they'd seemed quite uncertain whether the expression applied to her.

She'd asked, once, what exactly it meant, but after some thought Kirito had shrugged helplessly and said he couldn't think of a precise translation. In general, it seemed to refer to any denizen of Aincrad that was neither Swordmaster nor hostile; the fact that she seemed an exception to that made defining it any more clearly apparently difficult.

From the look of things, Kirito was just as much at a loss to explain the distinction to these Swordmasters as to Kizmel. “That's… kind of a long story,” he said finally, scratching the back of his head. “For now, just take my word for it that Kizmel's not much different from any player, in a fight or out.”

Player. Another word they can't seem to translate for me. Certainly Kizmel knew one definition of the word, but it didn't seem to make sense in the context Swordmasters used it. Kirito had told her, once, that he hoped to be able explain it someday, but for now she lacked the proper frame of reference. Something to do with the world they were called from, I suppose…

For now, Kizmel filed the thought away, and stepped into the conversational gap the confusion had left. “Perhaps we can talk more about it in town,” she suggested. “For now, may we escort you out of the dungeon?” She shot a quick glance at Kirito, but as she expected, he only nodded in agreement. For all his attempts at staying out of the spotlight, he never could seem to turn down a chance to help someone.

The party conversed among themselves only briefly, before their leader turned back and bowed. “We'll be in your care then, thank you. I was starting to become concerned about our supply of potions.” He hesitated. “Could we talk more in town? At the least, we should treat you two, in thanks for your help.”

It was Kirito's turn to hesitate, and Kizmel's to nod encouragingly. She hadn't dealt much with Swordmasters outside of battle, other than the two friends who had helped her so much, and she was genuinely interested in meeting more of them. For one thing, she was beginning to notice something curious about the summoned warriors in general…

“Okay, then,” Kirito said, offering a smile that might have been just a little nervous. “But first, let's get out of this place. Kizmel and I were just finished here, anyway, so we can head straight for the exit.”

“Cheers!”

Taft was the “central” town of the Eleventh Floor, but for all that it was fairly small. It was also fairly sparsely populated by Swordmasters, the frontlines having long since been pushed far above; finding a tavern that was unoccupied save by local townspeople hadn't been difficult.

That left plenty of room for Kirito, Kizmel, and the party they'd rescued to gather around a table and finish proper introductions. That had led into a toast, and if the drinks available at this human tavern weren't up to the standards of elven Moontear wine, it was still more than acceptable to Kizmel's tastes.

Even if she did find it a little strange to be toasted for her efforts. She was used to dealing with the clearers, among whom a rescue such as the one she and Kirito had pulled off would've been a reason for a quick thanks and little more; on the frontlines, after all, any such debt was likely enough to be repaid in kind soon enough.

These weren't clearers, though, she reminded herself as she sipped her wine. If she'd understood Kirito's explanation well enough, they were more akin to a training cadre, apprentice knights holding rear guard positions.

“Thanks again for your help,” the party's leader, Keita, said, lifting his flagon in salute. “Honestly, we bit off a bit more than we could chew there. I was starting to think we weren't going to make it, and then you two showed up.” He smiled, looking a bit sheepish. “Truth is, our party arrangement isn't the best. We're working on it, but…”

Privately, Kizmel agreed with the assessment. Humans in general and Swordmasters in particular used very different deployments than her own people did, but she'd had months to get a feel for their tactics. The Moonlit Black Cats, as they called themselves, had an eclectic, inefficient collection of styles, being led by a staff-wielder, backed by the lancers Sasamaru and Sachi, macer Tetsuo, and knife-wielding self-proclaimed thief Ducker.

None of them had bad setups individually, from what Kizmel had seen, but only Tetsuo was really suited to take the fight directly to the enemy.

“If you don't mind me saying,” she began diffidently, “you might be better off with at least one more close-in fighter. Someone with a sword and shield, perhaps? I mean no offense to Ducker, but his style is better suited to flanking attacks.”

“Thieves are kind of supposed to take the enemy by surprise, yeah,” Ducker agreed, scratching the back of his head ruefully. “We're not supposed to get in the thick of it.”

“I don't disagree,” Keita said, nodding. He gave her a strange look for a moment, the same Kizmel had gotten used to seeing on clearers before she became well-known on the frontlines, but continued, “Actually, I was thinking that we should switch Sachi here to exactly that, but… She's kind of nervous about trying something new.”

“Can you blame me?” Sachi said plaintively. “It's scary enough just holding monsters off with a spear. If I get close enough to use a sword, when I haven't even used one before, who knows what would happen!”

A black-haired girl that Kizmel judged to be a little older than Kirito—always harder to judge with humans, with their shorter lives but quick climb to maturity, compared to Dark Elves—Sachi seemed the most aware of the Black Cats, other than Keita. The others didn't look very subdued by their near-death experience, while those two appeared acutely aware of the close call.

“It can be unnerving at first,” Kirito said to Sachi, nodding. “But once you get used to it, it's not so bad. Especially if you've got a full party with you.”

“You guys seem to manage with just two,” Sasamaru pointed out. “Can't be that bad.”

“Says the guy who hasn't volunteered to swap out his spear for a sword,” Tetsuo shot back, rolling his eyes. “I really could use a little help up front, y'know.”

“Some people take to it more easily than others, Sasamaru,” Keita told him. “Still…” He turned his attention back to Kirito, started to speak again, then hesitated. “Ah, Kirito-san… I know it's rude to ask, but I can tell you must be stronger than we are. I mean, you've got an NPC with you and all…”

“You don't need to be so formal with me, Keita,” Kirito said, giving a slightly bitter smile. “I don't think you'd be feeling so polite if you knew more.”

He paused there, looking at Kizmel. After a moment, she understood, and once more gave him an encouraging nod. At this point, there seemed little point in concealing anything. If the Black Cats knew the truth of Kirito's strength, they would either hate him, or not; but it wasn't something that could be hidden forever. Lying about it wouldn't do anyone any good at all.

Kirito grimaced, but looked back to Keita. “The truth is, I'm a bit over Level Forty,” he said, describing his own strength according to the odd numerical shorthand Swordmasters used for such things. “Kizmel and I were only here because we needed a few items to enhance our equipment; after that we were going to go right back to the higher floors. You may not believe me, but we really weren't going to try and edge out any of the lower-level players.”

He tensed visibly when he was finished, waiting for their reactions. And, as he'd suggested to Kizmel not three hours earlier, the air in the tavern did seem to get colder as his words sank in. Like he'd said, he could claim not to be competing for resources, but actions spoke louder than words, and preconceptions were louder still.

Sachi doesn't look bothered, Kizmel thought, glancing at the anxious girl. At least, not by Kirito. But Tetsuo and Sasamaru—

Just as Keita started to open his mouth, a conflicted expression on his face, Ducker suddenly snapped his fingers. “Wait a second!” he said, cutting through the tension. “Black coat, sword and no shield, teamed up with a Dark Elf… Are you the Black Swordsman?”

Tension vanished, replaced by surprise and no little confusion. Surprise from the Black Cats, who collectively turned to look at Ducker, confusion from Kirito and Kizmel both, who glanced at each other and then joined in the group stare. “Er… 'Black Swordsman'?” Kirito repeated.

“Yeah! Really strong fighter, usually seen just with an NPC outside of boss raids. Is that you?”

“That would seem to be us, yes,” Kizmel ventured uncertainly. “At least, I've not seen any Swordmasters working with, ah, 'NPCs' since the war between my people and the Forest Elves ended. Were there any on the frontlines, I'm sure we would've noticed.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right.” Kirito set his drink aside. “I hadn't heard the 'Black Swordsman' thing before, but…”

“It might not be the kind of thing people say to your face.” Keita turned back to him, visibly relaxing. “This is the first I've even heard of you being on a floor this far down. That doesn't sound like someone who'd be out to hog all the good drops.”

“I've heard a few stories,” Sachi put in cautiously, a smile edging its way back onto her face. “Something about being the first 'Beater'? But someone who works that hard on the frontline couldn't be that kind of person.”

The festive atmosphere was quickly returning now, to Kizmel's relief. It probably didn't matter much if one small guild took a dislike to them; Kirito had endured the Aincrad Liberation Squad's scorn and the DDA's condescension well enough. Even so, she didn't want her partner burdened by yet more of that, when she knew well he did truly want nothing more than to help.

Still, she couldn't help but chuckle. “Actually,” she said, when the Black Cats looked at her askance, “that one is… somewhat true. The full story is a bit more complicated than you'd likely hear from the Army, though.”

Eyes turned to Kirito, who coughed uncomfortably. “It had to do with the first boss raid, and a riot in the making and, well… It's a long story.”

“I'd like to hear it sometime,” Sachi said. “Most of what we hear from the frontlines is rumors,” she explained, when attention shifted to her. “Everybody knows about the KoB, and how they're trying to keep casualties down in the clearing group, but I'd never heard about any clearers who'd go out of their way to help a low-level guild like us. What else don't we know?”

“Probably a lot,” Keita admitted. He turned back to Kirito. “Which brings me back to my original point, when I asked about how strong you were. I know this is a little unreasonable, if you're so busy with the clearing group, but… Could you two stick around, just for a little while? We could really use a little help getting on our feet—little things, like what Kizmel-san said about our formation. I think we really could start making a difference for other players, if we just had a bit of a boost.”

“Yeah!” Ducker put in. “And we could put out the word that not all clearers are Beaters! Hey,” he said, when Kirito looked over at him, “it sounds to me like you could use some help there. If you hadn't saved our hides earlier, I wouldn't have thought the Black Swordsman was such a nice guy.”

Kirito hesitated, looking conflicted. Kizmel could guess easily enough why. On the one hand, he'd made a policy, ever since arriving in this world, of being right at the front of the clearers, to the extent of probably having struck the final blow to more Field and Pillar Guardians than every other Swordmaster combined. Keeping his strength up, she knew, was how he'd survived so long with just Asuna—and later, herself—by his side.

More than that, there was something that had always kept him out of guilds, for as long as Kizmel had known him. The Army would never have taken him, and Lind had only ever seemed to offer out of a desire to “put him in his place”, as Asuna had acidly put it, but the KoB had once made a serious overture to him, and he'd turned it down cold. He'd said it was because beta testers like himself—whatever they were—didn't mesh well with others, and that he didn't want to potentially bind Kizmel to anything, but she was sure there was something else going on.

On the other hand, Kizmel suspected it was the first time a group had offered a friendly invitation to him. The KoB had been all business, and other Swordmaster guilds had ranged from indifferent to hostile; her own Dark Elves had been more welcoming to him than any group of humans.

Kirito may have been a loner, but she'd seen that it got to even him, now and then.

When the silence stretched on, Keita coughed, looking away. “Sorry. I guess that was a bit presumptuous of me. I know you've got a lot to do up at the frontlines—”

“I think it's a good idea, actually,” Kizmel interrupted, finally deciding to cut through the stalemate herself. “You need aid—and the fact of the matter is, the clearing group is too small.” She glanced between Keita and Kirito both. “We have enough for battles with the Pillar Guardians, but we really do need more Swordmasters who can help clear the way to their chambers.

“More than that, you're right: Kirito could use a few more people around who see him as more than just the Black Swordsman, or the Beater. None among my own people regard him as such, but the other clearers…”

Asuna, Argo, and Agil. Besides herself, those were the only Swordmasters Kizmel knew of that Kirito could really turn to on a personal level. Well, there was potentially another, but for whatever reason Kirito himself didn't seem to regard the “Klein” he'd occasionally mentioned as an option.

She just hoped he didn't mind too much that she'd more or less committed them to this.

After a few moments of surprised silence, Kirito gave her a crooked smile. “You really think this could work, Kizmel?”

“It might set back floor exploration slightly,” she answered seriously. “But in the long term, helping another guild become strong enough to contribute to that will more than offset it, and in the short term it will be easy enough for us to return to the front when Pillar Guardians are located, and still contribute to those battles.”

“…That's true enough.” Turning back to Keita, Kirito stood, and tentatively held out a hand. “I can't promise you won't regret having us along, but… I'll do what I can, Keita. Thank you.”

“We should be thanking you,” Keita replied, smiling in relief as he shook Kirito's hand. “Any help you guys can give us will be great.”

Kizmel reached over to lay her hand over theirs. “We will do our best, Keita,” she promised. “I'm looking forward to working with you, myself. I've had little chance to talk with Swordmasters other than Kirito and our friend Asuna, so I welcome this opportunity.”

This was how an alliance was supposed to be, she thought, as the group fell into animated conversation. Nothing at all like the atmosphere that always settled in when the disparate members of the clearing group met for strategy meetings, two large groups and a handful of smaller interests who often seemed only nominally united by a single goal.

The Moonlit Black Cats might be lacking in strength, might need some serious advice on how to use the strength they did have, but one thing they definitely already had that was missing from the frontlines was cheerful camaraderie. It was like what Kirito had with Asuna, Argo, or Agil, but with an entire group.

This is what's missing from the clearing group: true unity. Perhaps we can train the Black Cats well enough to reach even the front, and finally change that.

In the meantime… maybe I can discover what it is that feels so off about the Swordmasters. They're so skilled, yet so few of them have the feel of true warriors… Why?

Wednesday, July 12th, 2023

After a day of working out exactly how the alliance of a duo of clearers and a small guild of low-level Swordmasters would function, Kirito led them to a forest clearing on the Fifteenth Floor for some training. A good grinding spot, he'd said, adding, “Probably the best place right now is up on the Twentieth, but I don't think you're quite ready for that yet.”

Given that he and Kizmel had found them on the verge of being overwhelmed in a dungeon on the Eleventh Floor, Keita had ruefully agreed to that. The presence of two clearers would, at least, make a jump of a few floors survivable, with care.

As she waited with the Black Cats for Kirito to lure Spike Boars to the clearing, Kizmel reflected that it probably was as good a location as they were going to get. The mobs would be powerful enough to give the Black Cats a good workout, while the openness of the clearing would allow them to run well enough if it came down to it.

She herself was sitting this battle out, barring emergency. With five Black Cats, that left only one spot in the mystical cooperative arrangement Mystic Scribing allowed for, so it had been decided that she and Kirito would trade off helping directly.

Not that Kizmel was idle. Her role, today, was to look after Sachi, who was visibly uncomfortable with the sword and shield to which she'd finally been convinced to switch. “You'll be fine,” Kizmel assured her, noticing the tremble in the girl's stance. “It may be more frightening not to have the spear's length between you and the enemy, but with a shield you'll actually be safer than you were before.”

“I know that intellectually,” Sachi replied, watching anxiously for any sign of Kirito's return with their quarry. “It's just… I wasn't very good with a spear as it was, and I've never used a sword or shield at all.”

“It is not as difficult as you might think. A shield has no Sword Skills associated with it, and the first Skills of the one-handed sword are very simple. My own style uses some of them, and Kirito can show you others.”

“Is a shield even that good?” Tetsuo wondered, positioned a little ways to Sachi's right as the other forward. “I mean, Kirito doesn't bother with one, and he's a clearer!”

“I do,” Kizmel pointed out dryly, hefting her kite shield for emphasis. “Kirito's style is pure offense, and the only reason it works is because he has faster reflexes than anyone I've ever seen, even among the greatest swordsmen of my own people. He can show Sachi techniques, but I certainly don't advocate imitating his style as a whole.”

There was a loud rustling in the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing. “Hey!” came Kirito's indignant voice, over a series of loud, bestial grunts. “Are you saying I'm reckless, Kizmel?!”

“Asuna does!” she called back. “And speaking of reckless—how many boars did you attract?”

The plan had been for him to kite one or two at a time, enough to challenge the Black Cats without overwhelming them. Kizmel was fairly sure she was hearing enough noise for at least double that. And—are those wings I hear?

“So we get a little extra practice,” Kirito panted, dashing into view. “Don't worry, we can handle it. Try and keep those Rage Crows off us, though, okay?”

Rage Crows? As her partner spun to face the way he'd come, sword held low and to one side, Kizmel had only a moment to absorb the comment. Then three boars, covered in spikes, charged out of the trees, with as many black birds flying just above them. About three times the size of the more inoffensive variety she knew from the forests of home, their eyes blazed with a murderous crimson light.

Sachi eeped in fright, and even the more enthusiastic Ducker audibly swallowed. “Uh,” the self-proclaimed thief began. “I don't think this was part of the plan…”

“We can do it.” Keita didn't sound as confident as his words suggested, but he leveled his staff anyway, holding position with Sasamaru. “Kirito?”

“Sachi, Tetsuo,” Kirito said at once, not even looking back. “Focus on the boar on the right. Ducker, we've got the one on the left. Keita, Sasamaru, keep the one in the middle back until we've taken out the others, and if the Crows get in reach, hit them, too. Kizmel—”

“I'll be ready,” she promised. Stepping out of the way of Sachi's sword, Kizmel drew her saber, prepared to counter anything that got through. The idea was to train up the Black Cats, so she wouldn't intervene if she could avoid it, but training wouldn't help if they were killed.

Kirito made the first move, bashing one of the boars in the nose with his blade; a fast, hard move, but without the supernatural power or speed of a Sword Skill. It disoriented the beast without doing causing much injury, allowing Ducker to circle around to its less-pointed hindquarters and launch a simple skill of his own with a flash of red.

At the other flank, Tetsuo let out a yell and brought his mace down in a streak of blue. Like Kirito, he went for his foe's snout, but much more powerfully; the mystically-enhanced strike drove the boar's face down into the dirt with a squeal that was half pain, half rage.

Sachi took that as her cue to dart forward on wobbly legs, delivering a simple Vertical to the top of the boar's head. Still recovering from Tetsuo's blow, it made no effort to dodge, and its chin hit the ground once again.

This time, though, it didn't stay that way for long, and in the gap the Skill's recoil left in Sachi's movements, it reared back up, snorted in rage, and lunged tusks-first at the nervous girl. Unable to move her legs, she did manage to bring her shield up in time, but the impact threw her off-balance, vulnerable to further attack.

The Spike Boar in the center looked ready to do just that, and a screech announced the intent of one of the Rage Crows. Sachi fell back, yelping in fear, only barely keeping her shield lifted in her own defense—an insufficient defense, against an attack from multiple angles.

A thrust of a spear and downward slam of staff discouraged the boar, a one-two to the face that sent it reeling back with a squeal. At the same time, Kizmel leapt into the air, saber glowing with the bright trail of a Slant that sent the Crow hurtling back into the trunk of a tree, feathers flying in all directions.

Landing lightly, she took Sachi's shield hand and gently pulled the girl to her feet. “It's all right,” Kizmel said, giving her a reassuring smile. “You're not alone, Sachi.”

“Just watch your timing, and you'll be fine!” Kirito called, easily dancing around his own foe's attempt to gut him. “It's not too hard, once you know what you're doing!”

Swallowing, shaking, Sachi set herself, shield in front and sword lifting hesitantly into position again. “I-I'll try,” she said, voice trembling.

Tetsuo flashed her a quick grin. “Hey, we already got it down by almost half. These things aren't that tough!”

The two of them had, in fact, hurt their boar worse than the other actively-engaged mob, Kizmel noticed as she fended off another of the crows. Much of it was from the raw power of Tetsuo's mace, of course, but even with Sachi's hesitance, her weapon was still inflicting heavier injury than Ducker's simple knife.

Ducker is more confident, she thought, using the quick diagonal slash of a Streak to force the ravenous bird back. But Sachi's sword is the stronger weapon—and her technique is better than I'd realized. Her real problem isn't knowing how to fight.

With a shout, Tetsuo brought his mace around to hit the Spike Boar in the flank, the heavy weapon unhindered by the spines. It grunted, the blow having knocked it off-balance, and fell to the ground with a heavy thud. “Sachi, Switch!”

“R-right!” Stance still wobbly, Sachi's face took on a determined expression and she darted forward, bringing another Vertical down right between the boar's eyes. Throughout, her footwork was shaky, but her grip on her sword had firmed up this time, and she drove the blade down with her own muscles as much as the charms of the Sword Skill.

With a final, plaintive squeal, the Spike Boar shattered into blue fragments and vanished.

“I… I did it?” Sachi whispered, frozen in the posture the Sword Skill had released her in.

Tetsuo clapped her on the shoulder, grinning. “You did, Sachi! Nice one!”

“Very!” Kirito called, casually dodging to one side as the boar Keita and Sasamaru were holding back tried to gore him. “Okay, finish off the second one, and then we can take this guy out—hopefully before he gets me!”

Sachi's moment of personal vindication was unfortunately spoiled a moment after that by the third Rage Crow attacking her from behind, having slipped past Kizmel's guard while she was distracted by the first two. Crying out in surprise and renewed fear, she quickly fell back again, leaving Tetsuo to flail at the bird with his mace.

At that point, Kizmel decided it was time to thin the opposition, and launched the heaviest blow she knew at the Rage Crow. Taught to her by her instructor in the Lyusula capital, the Fell Crescent let her cover four meters in an instant of blurred crimson light, delivering a powerful downward stroke that ripped the crow clean in half before it shattered; and, just incidentally, leaving Kizmel well-positioned to guard Sachi's back while she recovered.

The girl held back while her comrades went after the boar Ducker had been slowly bleeding, panting and shaking. Waiting for her to regain some of her courage, Kizmel kept her own shield up, fending off further diving attacks by the remaining crows.

Remembering Sachi's technique in that one moment of confidence, Kizmel didn't begrudge the effort. She knows how to fight—she just doesn't know she can. That, more than technique, is what we need to teach her. Her problem is her own lack of confidence.

“It's all right,” she murmured to the girl behind her. “Focus on what's in front of you, Sachi—I have your back.”

Sachi didn't reply, but gradually her breathing evened out. Eventually, the faint clanking of armor from her trembling quieted, as well, and by the time Tetsuo and Ducker finally felled the second boar, Kizmel heard the girl take up her sword and shield again.

The question, Kizmel thought as Sachi hesitantly moved in to help take down the final Spike Boar, is why she was allowed onto the battlefield in the first place without being taught that. What was involved with the spell that called the Swordmasters, that some were thrown into war with barely any training at all?

Perhaps there was some obscure human tradition she simply wasn't aware of. Perhaps they thought the best training was in the field, where it was learn or die. Survival of the fittest, where the truly strong survived to be the protectors of the “NPCs”, and the weakest either found strong protectors, or died.

Shivering, Kizmel took out her dark thoughts on another of the Rage Crows, her superior strength rending it with a single blow. She hoped she was wrong about that. Certainly it was an attitude that Kirito would've disagreed with; he devoted all his strength to fighting where others could not, for all that others often thought he was only out for himself.

No. She was almost certainly wrong about that. Even Kibaou at his worst would never have espoused such a philosophy; indeed, his entire enmity toward Kirito had apparently been based on rage against those would shun the weak.

But if that isn't it, Kizmel thought, beheading the final Rage Crow, what is it? By what logic does someone cast a spell to summon warriors, and call for such a disparate group? Kirito, the Knights of Blood, even the Divine Dragons and the Army, they are the sort one might expect to be summoned as protectors.

Why would that same spell call the Black Cats?

Thursday, July 20th, 2023

They'd been training with the Black Cats for a bit over a week when they received word that the boss room on the Thirtieth Floor had been found. In that time the untrained warriors had begun to grow in strength, according to the strange numerical values Swordmasters used to estimate their own abilities, and Kirito left them with a few suggestions for safe places to train while he and Kizmel were gone.

After a relatively uneventful battle with a Pillar Guardian, they rested on the newly-opened Thirty-First Floor, then descended to the Fifteenth to meet up with the Black Cats in the field.

The duo of clearers found them resting in a monster-free, grassy hill a kilometer or so outside the floor's biggest town, having apparently just finished a round of training. “Oi, Kirito, Kizmel!” Tetsuo called, when they came into view. “Over here, guys!”

“I'm glad to see you're both alright,” Keita said, when they'd joined the group on the grass. “I know you're clearers and all, but I've heard some of the boss fights can be pretty bad. Even the Army retreated last month, I heard…”

Kirito flopped inelegantly on his back. “You could've just checked your Friends List, couldn't you? Besides, Argo's newsletter should've told you there were no casualties.” He pointed at the item Keita was holding at that very moment, a sheet of paper labeled The Weekly Argo, put out by none other than the Rat herself.

For a small fee, of course. Kizmel doubted Argo ever did anything without monetizing it somehow, as nice as the info broker was otherwise.

“We could check on you,” Sachi pointed out, sitting a couple of meters away with sword and shield set neatly on the ground beside her. “Kizmel still isn't in the system like that, and who knows if Argo would've mentioned her. The article did just say no player casualties—ah, no offense, Kizmel,” she added quickly. “I didn't mean—”

“It's fine, Sachi,” Kizmel assured her. “We are different, even if we're fighting for the same cause. Many Swordmasters probably would not make any note, it's true—but I believe Argo would have.” She smiled reassuringly. “But no, we're both fine. The battle was intense, but routine.”

“We figure that big spider a few floors ago, the one that nearly wiped out the Army, was a special case,” Kirito added, resting his head on his hands. “It marked the one-quarter point of the clearing, after all. Now, the Fiftieth Floor kinda scares me, but until then…”

That wasn't entirely true, Kizmel knew. Even on “regular” floors, the clearing group had occasionally lost one or two members to bosses. Still, by all accounts The Adamantine Arachnid had indeed been unusual in its strength and its death toll.

Deciding to change the subject before anyone thought too deeply on that, Kizmel glanced over the resting but not, apparently, completely worn-out Black Cats. “So, how did your training go while we were gone? I trust things went smoothly enough.”

Sasamaru laughed. “You were only gone a day, Kizmel, it's not like there was time for much to happen. Yeah, we were fine. Well, except for that time we got chased by a bunch of goblins yesterday afternoon, but eh. We managed.”

Kirito lifted his eyebrows in the lancer's direction. “Goblins? Again? Were you back in the same place Kizmel and I—?”

“We had a bit better idea of what we were doing this time, Kirito,” Keita said. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. “We did have to retreat, but weren't exactly on the edge of being wiped out this time. And Sachi was paying enough attention that we knew there was a problem in time to kill a couple of them and get out.”

Attention turned to the fledgling swordswoman, and Sachi blushed. “I was only looking so close because I was nervous,” she muttered. “It's not that big a deal.”

Over a week into working with the Black Cats, and Sachi's nerve was still uncertain. Kizmel hadn't expected that to change overnight, though, and for now she'd been focusing on helping the girl hone her basic technique, figuring that just realizing she could fight would help the confidence problem. Besides…

“Only a fool is completely confident, Sachi,” Kizmel said, reaching over to rest a hand on the girl's shoulder. “As you said, you were watching because you were afraid. It shouldn't control you—but you should not forget it, either. An edge of tension is good for a knight.”

Sachi looked away. “I'm not cut out to be a knight, though. I… I tried, once…”

That was just odd enough a comment to pique Kizmel's curiosity; soft as it was, she didn't think Sachi had even meant for her to hear it.

Kizmel, with her elven hearing, was apparently the only one who did hear it, as before she could try and pursue the thought Ducker loudly rummaged in a pouch at his belt. “Something else that's good for a knight—or a thief?” he said with a grin. “Lunch!”

Kirito instantly went from looking ready to nap to rapt attention, and he eagerly took one of the wrapped bars of oats, honey, and nuts that Swordmasters often favored for field rations. Not that Kizmel disagreed, being rather fond of them herself; they were much better than the hard bread and tough jerky her own people resorted to, when far from home.

Granola bars, she thought they were called. An ingenious concept, and one she intended to introduce to her own people on her next visit home.

Much as she liked them herself, though, she couldn't help but chuckle at Kirito's enthusiasm. It was amazing, sometimes, the way her partner could go from deadly serious in the middle of a fight to cheery and carefree outside it. She'd almost thought, sometimes, that he hadn't been brought up as the swordsman his sheer skill proved him to be.

That evening, after another round of training—Ducker joking that this time they had “expert supervision”—they gathered in the tavern in Taft they'd visited the night they first met for dinner. In Kizmel's estimation, things had gone well; the Black Cats still weren't up to the standards of a proper clearing party, but they were definitely shaping up.

A month, perhaps, and they might actually be ready to start helping with exploration on the frontlines, though it would probably be somewhat longer before the Black Cats could handle being part of a Pillar Guardian raid.

In terms of skill, at least, Kizmel thought, quietly nursing a flagon of ale as the others went over the day's training again. Attitude… Keita is doing well enough, but one or two of them are still a bit impulsive for my liking. And Sachi… I wonder why she still cannot believe in her own skills?

She shrugged inwardly. Even if she didn't want to see them fighting a boss any time soon, with only a little more tempering they'd be a welcome addition to the teams mapping the floors and their attendant labyrinths. That alone would be valuable—maybe even more than having extra hands for the raids, at least as long as the casualty rate remained as low as it had been lately.

“Hey, Kirito, Kizmel,” Tetsuo said suddenly, setting down his flagon with a muted thump. “What's it like, up at the frontlines?”

“I've been wondering that, too,” Keita admitted, leaning his elbows on the table they all sat around. “I certainly don't begrudge the help—I did ask you guys, after all—but… it's got to be kind of boring hanging around low-level players like us, right? I'd like to think we're getting better, but it must be tiring, babysitting us all the time.”

“You might be surprised,” Kizmel said, putting aside her own ale. “Remember, Kirito and I mostly travel just by ourselves; we don't 'hang around' with other clearers very often.”

“She's right,” Kirito agreed, around the last mouthful of a sandwich. He took a moment to swallow, chased it down with the water he was limiting himself to tonight, and continued, “Actually, it's… kinda nice be around you guys. We may all be working toward the same goal in the clearing group, but people don't really socialize much when we're not in the field. Not just us, either; guild members stick with their own, mostly. Especially the DDA, and the Army when they were still on the frontlines.”

“I'd heard those two guilds could be pretty high-handed,” Keita conceded. “To be honest, that kind of attitude is why I was a little suspicious when you first admitted you were clearers, until Ducker realized who you were. What about the solos, though? Or the Knights of Blood? I've heard they've got a good guy leading them. And the stories I've heard about their second-in-command…”

Kizmel hid a smile at that last. She, too, had heard some of the rumors that had been spreading about Asuna lately, and she had to wonder if her friend had any idea just how much she was starting to be idolized. Before, only clearers had any real idea who she was; in the short time since the KoB had been formed, word had spread fast.

Kirito's reaction was more sober, though, focusing on Keita's real point. “The KoB are pretty nice, so far as it goes,” he said, nodding. “But they're the smallest of the high-level guilds. And the other solos… The truth is, Keita, you don't make it as a solo, especially not on the frontlines, if you don't put your own survival above everyone else. I've got Kizmel keeping me on the straight and narrow, but… All too many others don't do much to help their case against Kibaou's complaints about the beta testers, back when we killed Illfang.”

“What did happen then?” Sachi asked, entering the conversation with a very intent expression on her face. “I've only ever heard rumors. I remember the anti-beta tester talk died down a lot after that, but then everybody started complaining about 'Beaters' instead.”

Kirito hesitated, obviously debating how much to say. He shot a glance at Kizmel, as if looking for support; in this case, though, she knew little more than the Black Cats. And, if she was going to be completely honest, she was as curious as Sachi, only having heard his very bare-bones explanation a week before.

“Some of it is… kind of private,” he said at last, leaning back in his chair with a pensive look. “Not everybody who was there is still alive, and I don't want to speak ill of the dead.” He grimaced, then shrugged. “Basically, we went into that with a strategy based on information from the beta test about Illfang's attack patterns. Only it turned out, when Illfang switched to his second weapon, things had changed from what we knew.”

“Beta test?” Kizmel interjected, leaning forward. She'd heard the term used before, but this was the first opportunity she'd really had to question it.

From the look on her partner's face, it was another of those “difficult to translate” concepts. Apparently he'd realized this point would come up at some point, though, because he didn't hesitate long before answering. “Um… call it a kind of practice run, set in a partial copy of Aincrad, according to information we had about the real thing. 'Beta testers' were the people who went through that before coming here; somewhere around eight hundred of the original ten thousand Swordmasters.”

“I see.” She leaned back again, frowning thoughtfully. That did at least explain his prior comments about those who had more information about when they were getting into than others.

Yet it raises another question. Why only eight hundred? Ten thousand warriors summoned to fight, and less than a tenth were given any kind of briefing at all?

And a “partial copy” of the Steel Castle… What a strange, and amazing, place Kirito must come from. To have such wonders, and yet to send people into a war with so little knowledge. If they knew of Aincrad, the spell could not have caught them completely unaware… perhaps they knew of it, but didn't know exactly who would be called?

Come to think of it, that actually made a certain degree of sense. Clearly, the Swordmasters weren't in Aincrad entirely of their own free will; she'd heard them speak of trying to free themselves often enough. It was entirely possible that communication with the world they came from was at least as fractured as between the floors of Aincrad itself.

Even as Kizmel pondered the conundrum, Kirito was continuing his explanation to the Black Cats. “Anyway, we expected Illfang to have a tulwar. Instead, he had a nodachi.” He winced. “I recognized the weapon from higher floors, but Diavel, the raid leader, didn't notice in time. He acted on the old information, and… he was killed when Illfang used techniques the strategy guide hadn't mentioned.”

“And everybody just assumed the beta testers lied about it?” Keita shook his head. “That sounds like an honest mistake to me.”

“You weren't there,” Kirito pointed out. “Tensions were running high, and Kibaou was anti-tester to begin with. Worse than that, though, I did recognize the katana techniques Illfang used, and told the rest of the raid how to avoid them. So, obviously, I'd 'let' Diavel die, and Argo the Rat was in on it.” He shrugged. “Maybe if it hadn't been the very first boss, it wouldn't have mattered so much. But we needed that victory, and we couldn't afford a witch hunt.”

“There wasn't one, either,” Sachi said, looking troubled. “Some people still don't like the testers, but it died down right after that.”

“Kibaou wanted one, though. He wasn't the only one. So…” Another shrug from Kirito, with a casual air Kizmel could tell was feigned. “They looked about ready to PK me anyway, so I did my best evil laugh, called Argo and the other testers amateurs, and claimed I got higher in the beta than anybody else. That got people mad at me specifically, but also kinda scared, 'beta tester' and 'cheater' got thrown around enough to get combined into 'Beater', and… here we are.”

He took the hatred eight thousand people directed at eight hundred, all on his own shoulders, Kizmel realized. He allowed himself to be ostracized for their sake…

No wonder he went to such lengths to help my people. What was a war, next to being hated by so many of his own?

“It's not as bad as it used to be,” Kirito noted, seeing the looks on the Black Cats' faces. “There were only forty-four people in that boss raid, one of them died, and two of them realized what I was doing from the start. Not many people knew who I was back then. These days? Not even Kibaou's crowd thought us testers knew anything above the Tenth Floor or so. Maybe we got an 'unfair' head start, but there's nothing we can be hiding anymore.”

“Except for the stuff the other solos find first and keep to themselves,” Sasamaru remarked, eyes narrow. “That's what you meant about not helping their case, right?”

“Well, yeah,” Kirito conceded. “Not that some of the guilds have much room to talk. Lind isn't too bad on that, but the rest of the DDA… well, they've got a bit of a reputation for a reason.” He reached for his glass again. “Honestly? That's part of why I think Kizmel was right to talk me into helping you guys this much. You guys are like a family.”

“We all go to school together, actually,” Keita said, smiling at the comment. “The Black Cats go way back. This isn't our first adventure—though it's probably our worst.” He laughed a little at that; then coughed, rubbing at the ribs Sachi had just dug an elbow into.

“Well, it's a feeling we could really use more of on the frontlines,” Kizmel said, lifting her flagon toward them. “You humans don't have quite the organization my people do, even with your guilds, but I'm beginning to think that isn't such a bad thing—if you can work together better than we see all too often among the clearers.”

“Then we'd better work harder to catch up.” Keita raised his flagon to hers. “Right, guys? There is something we can do, and I say we do it!”

The loud expression of group agreement might've sounded just a bit weak from Sachi's direction, as the others brought their drinks together in a united toast, but it was a strong one regardless. There was more energy and determination among these humans than Kizmel was used to from her own Pagoda Knights, certainly.

“Just one thing,” Tetsuo said, when the ale had been drained. “If we're gonna get stronger, we need tougher fights. I know, I know, we don't want to fight anything too tough for training, but if we've got you two backing us up for grinding, we can build levels a bit faster than this, right?”

Kizmel didn't miss the way Sachi's face paled, nor the way Kirito glanced in her direction. She held the latter's gaze for a moment, both of them silently weighing the potential risks. “It… might be possible,” she said at length. “If we're careful…”

“Argo,” Kirito said, looking not much happier than she felt. “I'll see about getting in touch with Argo. She'll know if there's any quests with good experience that a party like ours can handle.”

Ducker pumped a fist. “Yes! Something more than just more boars, birds, and goblins!”

Even Keita, mostly the voice of reason in the Black Cats, nodded cheerfully at the idea. Sachi, though, didn't join in the chatter that followed, and seemed to lose interest in the remains of her dinner.

Saturday, July 22nd, 2023

After some discussion, they did agree to wait a few days more to try their blades against stronger foes. Sachi and Ducker, with the former's hesitance and the latter's weaker weapon, had fallen slightly behind the others in “levels”, and Kirito wanted to try and even that up before attempting battles which would, under the proposed conditions, leave one of the Black Cats on the sidelines at any given time.

For two days, they rotated the party to accomplish just that, and made good progress toward their goal. Then on the second night, as Kirito and Kizmel returned from a brief foray to a higher floor to have their equipment touched up by frontline merchants, Kirito received an unexpected message.

They'd just materialized at the teleportation device in Taft's central square when he frowned, tilting his head at a sound Kizmel didn't hear. “That's odd,” he murmured, swiping a hand to bring up his Mystic Scribing.

Kizmel raised an eyebrow in his direction. “Is something wrong, Kirito?”

“A message from Keita,” he answered, eyes flickering over the text hanging in the air before him. “We're heading for the inn anyway, what could be so urgent…? Oh. That's… not good.” Kirito glanced up from the message, gaze dark with concern. “Keita says Sachi disappeared right after we left. As soon as they got back to the inn, she said she had something she needed to take care of… Now she isn't answering messages, and her location isn't showing up on the guild member list.”

That wasn't like the nervous girl at all, and Kizmel felt a chill spread through her body. Amazing as it was, human Mystic Scribing did have some limitations, so there were several possible explanations for Sachi's disappearance; at least two of them, however, were bad ones.

“The other Black Cats have gone to look in the dungeon where we first met. If Sachi were… gone… she wouldn't still be showing up on the guild list at all,” Kirito reminded her. “She pretty much has to be somewhere the Mystic Scribing doesn't cover.”

Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders even before it could really take hold, but Kizmel was still concerned. “She won't be in the dungeon,” she said quietly. “Sachi can barely stand going there with the whole group; I can't see her having gone alone. Are there safer locations the Scribing does not reach?”

Kirito frowned pensively. “…About all I can think of would be places like the Dark Elf camp on the Third Floor, or Yofel Castle. Unless…” He snapped his fingers. “Try putting on your cloak for a second, Kizmel. I want to check something.”

My cloak? Ah, of course! Nodding in understanding, Kizmel pulled the hood of her Mistmoon Cloak up over her head, then drew the rest of it securely around herself.

To her own eyes, there was no change in world, but she knew Kirito would no longer be able to see her. Once he'd confirmed the conditions had been met for the special property of her cloak, though, he focused his gaze instead on the ephemeral page he'd brought up.

After a second, he nodded to himself, letting out a relieved breath. “Invisibility effects do block location tracking. And since I seem to remember that cloak Sachi found in that hidden room in the dungeon this morning has that… She's probably somewhere in town.” He frowned again. “But why would she…?”

“I'll ask her,” Kizmel said, opening her cloak again. “Kirito, you go make sure Keita and the others make it back safe. I'll find Sachi.”

Kirito bit his lip, but nodded. “Okay. I wish there was some way you could tell me when you find her… Well, I'll just make sure we hurry back. I'll see you soon.”

After exchanging a quick hand clasp, they went their separate ways, Kirito taking off at a run for the town entrance, Kizmel making her way to the inn the Black Cats called home.

I wish I could, too, she reflected, hurrying down the nearly deserted street. Sending messages across such distances, locating each other at a glance, carrying so much more than they could by hand… With Mystic Scribing, it's no wonder the Swordmasters have accomplished the feats they have.

At least her own skills as a tracker were not inferior to her partner's. From what he had said, Kirito could discern distinct sets of footprints when trying to find a specific individual, but while she might not have that ability, it was more a matter of how she perceived the world. Her senses as a Dark Elf provided her much the same information, just more subtly.

At the front entrance of the inn, Kizmel found traces of the passage of a number of people. Though Taft was far below the front line, an increasing number of lesser Swordmasters had gathered in recent days, trying to reach just a little higher; signs of their presence made picking out just one trail difficult.

Kizmel knew, though, that Sachi wouldn't have stayed around crowds. If she had gone to such lengths to hide herself, her own trail would lead somewhere else, away from the paths of other Swordmasters. With that in mind, she spread her search wider, edging away from the inn itself.

There, she thought, a few minutes into her quest. An indefinable trail leading away from the areas most people gathered, the mark of just one person's passage disappearing down a disused alley. Following it farther away from the inn, Kizmel quickly identified it as Sachi's path, as surely as if she could could see glowing footprints on the cobblestones.

In the end, the trail led her down to a bridge over a stream running through the east end of Taft. Or rather, off to one side, down, and then under the bridge, out of sight of prying eyes.

There, back against the stone foundations of the bridge, black hair obscuring her face and new cloak wrapped around her body, sat the girl Kizmel was looking for. “Sachi?” she called softly, slipping into the shadows herself.

Sachi started, bringing her head up to look. “Oh… Kizmel. What are you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” Kizmel said patiently. “You didn't make it easy. The others thought you might be in a dungeon, so Kirito had to go get them.”

The other girl winced. “I didn't mean to worry them like that. I just… needed some time alone.”

Kizmel moved to sit a careful handful of paces away, leaning back against the stone. “I thought as much, if you came to a place like this.” She glanced over, watching as Sachi's head sank back down into her arms. “What's wrong, Sachi?”

Though after the last week, I suspect I can guess…

The answer, when Sachi did finally bring herself to speak, didn't surprise Kizmel as much as she suspected it would have the other Black Cats. “…I'm scared,” the girl whispered. “I… want to run away. From the monsters, from the Black Cats… from this whole crazy world.”

There were two ways Kizmel could think of to take that statement, and one of them chilled her to the bone. “You don't mean… suicide?” Oh, she hoped that wasn't what Sachi meant. She'd heard the stories, now, of how the population of Swordmasters had been when the spell pulled them to Aincrad. Those whispered tales of despair had contributed to her own disturbed confusion about the exact nature of their summoning.

Sachi actually smiled at that; a weak smile, one almost totally devoid of humor. Though there was, Kizmel thought, just the faintest trace of dark amusem*nt in the expression. “That might be nice, actually,” she said, in a voice that sounded almost whimsical. A moment later, though, she shook her head. “No, sorry, I'm kidding… If I was really ready to do that, I would have gone to the dungeon.”

The chill eased, though it still didn't go away. Just because she didn't want to die didn't mean Sachi was anything close to “all right”. If she were, she wouldn't have come here, either.

After a long moment of silence, Sachi whispered, “I want to go home, Kizmel. I'm so scared of dying, I've hardly slept since I came to this place. I want to go home, and I don't understand why I can't…”

She doesn't understand the summoning spell, either, then. But… Kirito obviously wants to go home just as badly, yet he does seem to understand why he's here. None of the clearers I've met have ever questioned this, at least not in my hearing.

It's another contradiction. None of this makes any sense.

“Sachi,” Kizmel began gently, “what do you mean?”

“…I don't know if I can explain it,” Sachi said slowly, hugging her knees. “The world I come from is so different, and you're different…” She shook her head. “I'm sorry, I know I'm babbling. Kizmel, I… this wasn't supposed to be like this. We weren't supposed to be trapped in this world. It wasn't supposed to be able to kill us…”

Cold creeped back into Kizmel's veins. Not fear this time, not exactly—more like a presentiment of horror, as the pieces finally began to fall into place. They expected to be able to return to their world at will… of course they would expect to be safe from harm, if they believed they could simply leave the bodies the spell gave them here.

And if they believed themselves safe, then even those who lacked proper training would see no reason not to volunteer to come here.

The picture was starting to come together, Kizmel was sure of it. There were pieces missing, gaps their different societies and languages left, but she was beginning to see one unifying truth that resolved the seeming contradictions that had been bothering her. “Sachi, could you tell me what happened? What went wrong, when you came here?”

Sachi was quiet for a long while; the same kind of silence, Kizmel thought, that would grip Kirito or Asuna when they sought to explain things beyond a Dark Elf's experience. “It was supposed to be like the beta test,” she said finally, gazing into the dark. “We'd come here, and fight, and clear the way to the top floor. In between, we could leave the bodies we have here, and return to our own homes. If these bodies were… killed… we could just make them again.

“The day we came here for real, Kayaba Akihiko—the man who made the—the spell—turned on us. Made it so that we were trapped in these bodies, so if these bodies died, so would we. And if anyone from our world tried to disrupt the spell, we'd die. And the only way out was to make it all the way to the top floor, and defeat the last boss.

“And he wouldn't even tell us why…”

She was shaking enough to be seen through the dark and the layer of cloak covering her, and Kizmel didn't blame her a bit. Suddenly, it all made a frightening sense, the way some of the Swordmasters were more prepared than others, how unfairly knowledge was distributed before their arrival.

The very fact that they had come to a world not their own to save it, yet were as determined to simply escape as to be rescuers.

They were told it was something they could treat almost like a game, for all its seriousness for the people of Aincrad, and that no matter what happened, they wouldn't die. That they could fight against the greatest odds without fear.

And then they were betrayed, and thousands of them have died for it.

Kizmel felt a confusing whirl of emotions, seeing so much more of the picture than she had before. Horror, that ten thousand people had been deceived into being trapped away from their homes and families, risking their very lives. Fury at the man who had done it to them, without even telling them why.

A fierce rush of warmth and pride toward Kirito and Asuna, for working so hard for her people, when they had every right and reason to focus on nothing but their own survival and escape.

“I don't understand,” Sachi whispered again. “Why we were trapped, why we can die… I can't understand why Kayaba would've done this to us.”

Kizmel couldn't either. Whoever this “Kayaba” was, he must've been a sorcerer of immense power, such that the abrasive Master Soveth she and Kirito had once dealt with would've bitterly envied. What would a man with such power gain from throwing ten thousand people into a war, one he very likely could've ended with his own arcane strength?

“I can hardly sleep at night, I'm so scared. I… I don't want to die…”

Hearing Sachi's anxious whisper, Kizmel decided the motivations of some distant figure were a conundrum that could wait. If Kayaba had been right there, where she could face him with steel in hand, she would have; he wasn't, she couldn't, so there was a different battle she needed to fight, and with a different weapon.

She slid over to Sachi's side, wrapping an arm around the girl like she would have her own sister Tilnel, once upon a time. “You are not going to die, Sachi,” she said, pulling Sachi against her shoulder. “You'll see your home again.”

Sachi looked up, eyes watery. “How can you be so sure?” she whispered.

“The Black Cats are getting stronger by the day,” Kizmel pointed out. “Kirito and I will stay long enough to make certain you're strong enough—much as Kirito once did for Asuna. And,” she said, giving the other girl her best reassuring smile, “you are stronger than you think you are, Sachi.”

“I'm not strong,” Sachi said at once, lowering her eyes. “…Anytime it really matters, I mess up…”

There was a story behind that, Kizmel was sure. There was too much emotion in that to just be about her still-shaky contributions to the Black Cats' training. It wasn't one she was going to push tonight, though; not when Sachi had already recounted such a tale of terror and betrayal.

“Your technique is excellent, and getting better every day,” she said firmly. “Your problem isn't skill, Sachi, but confidence. You can fight with the best—if you only realize it.”

Sachi shook her head stubbornly. “I'm just a nobody who barely ever picked up a weapon before,” she muttered into Kizmel's shoulder.

“Before the day the Swordmasters were called to Aincrad,” Kizmel began, “my friend Asuna had never so much as touched a sword. She was no 'beta tester' like Kirito, and until very recently she was part of no group larger than three, outside of battling Field and Pillar Guardians. Now? She's the second-in-command of the Knights of Blood, and I assure you, Sachi, the Knights do not recruit just anyone.”

Indeed, with what she'd hard from Sachi, Kizmel herself was beginning to understand just how remarkable her surrogate sister really was. If the world the Swordmasters came from was so different, and they had been called under such false pretenses, Asuna's ascent to one of the strongest warriors of Aincrad was like a tale out of legend.

Sachi certainly seemed to take it as such. “Asuna the Flash was just a beginner?” she said, looking up again with wide eyes. “But she's—she's supposed to be the greatest swordswoman in Aincrad!”

The Flash? Well… if Kirito's most noteworthy feature is his black coat, Asuna's is certainly her speed… Of course, to all appearances, there was little competition among the Swordmasters for the title of greatest swordswoman, given their gender ratio.

Not that Kizmel thought Sachi was wrong, by any means. “She was. Someday, perhaps you can meet her, and ask her how frightened she was when she came to Aincrad.”

Sachi shuddered; this time, though, Kizmel thought she felt some of the tension easing out of the girl. “If I can just live on,” she whispered, pressing her face into Kizmel's cloak. “If I can just… believe that I can go home…”

Kizmel didn't comment as she felt tears begin to soak her cloak. She just held the girl close, and made a promise to herself.

I'd already pledged myself to aid Kirito, in return for his help in restoring peace to my kingdom. Now, knowing the truth… This is something I could never stand aside from. This Kayaba Akihiko has done something unforgivable, betraying so many of his own people.

I will help the Black Cats—help Sachi—become strong enough to survive. And Kirito and I are going to climb all the way to the Ruby Palace at Aincrad's peak—and before we strike down whatever waits us there, I will know the reason this was done.

By the time Kizmel and Sachi returned to the inn, Kirito had also gotten back from the dungeon with the rest of the Black Cats. In deference to the girl's privacy, Kizmel simply backed up Sachi's story of having needed some time to think by herself, though she did concede Keita's point that Sachi should at least have warned them first.

The elf kept her own counsel about her own realizations, not wanting to burden the Black Cats with anything more. When they'd all split up for the night, though, and she and Kirito retired to the room they shared, it didn't take long for her partner to notice something was off.

Sitting on the edge of his bed, changed into the simply short-sleeved shirt and shorts he used as sleepwear, Kirito cast a serious look in Kizmel's direction. “Is Sachi really all right, Kizmel?” he asked. “Or is something else bothering you?”

In the middle of getting ready for bed herself, Kizmel felt a flicker of amusem*nt at the way he reddened slightly when her armor disappeared. A month of traveling together, on top of the time they'd spent during the Elf War, and he was still shy around her at times like this. Though in all fairness, he probably still remembers Asuna's usual reaction. I suppose he has more reason to be uncomfortable than merely human taboos.

The amusem*nt was fleeting, though, and gone by the time the last traces of her battle gear vanished and she, too, sat down. “She's afraid,” Kizmel said honestly. “But I believe she'll be alright, once she realizes she's not as weak as she believes herself to be.”

“That's good. I was worried, and the other Black Cats were really scared.” Kirito shook his head. “They've come a long way in just a couple of weeks, though. They pretty much tore through everything in their way into that dungeon, before I caught up with them.”

“You've trained them well,” she told him. “Even Sachi's learned a lot; she just doesn't know it.”

He shrugged awkwardly. “You mean, we've trained them. It's not like I've done all this by myself… Anyway, I've just had a little practice, that's all. The first day I was here, I helped a guy get started, and, well, you were there for a lot of the early days with Asuna. Though she had speed and technique down before I even met her…”

That story, Kizmel had heard. How Kirito had met Asuna in a labyrinth, and first witnessed her unbelievable speed, honed at the cost of anything resembling sufficient rest. By the time I met her, she at least had the rest part down. She's only gotten even faster since…

“Maybe you did have help, but I'm impressed anyway,” Kizmel said, lying back on her bed. Turning on her side to look at him, she added, “Not so many people, among your kind or mine, would go so far out of there way to help others. Taking the time to teach lesser warriors, going to such lengths for my people… For someone thrown into risking his life without warning, you really are incredibly generous.”

Whether it was from the compliment or simply the movement of her own body, she thought for a moment that Kirito's face was going to actually light on fire. “I'm not that nice a guy,” he mumbled, turning away in a vain attempt at hiding the blush. “I just… can't turn away from things that are right in front of me.” He seemed to realize, a moment late, how that last could be taken, and reddened further. “Uh… anyway. …Wait. Did you say…?”

“Sachi told me,” she said soberly. “That real death was not a danger you expected to face here… among other things.” She paused. “I believe I would like to meet this 'Kayaba Akihiko'. Preferably armed.”

Kirito's blush faded with the change in subject. “You and about eight thousand players,” he said, shaking his head. “You might get a chance, too. I've always figured the guy will probably be waiting for us at the Ruby Palace.”

Kizmel raised an eyebrow. “This sorcerer is the one who caused the Great Separation, as well as calling you here? That certainly explains the treachery, though it leaves the question of why he would allow his foes as much power as you do have.” She thought for a moment. “It would also make him far older than I thought humans could live to be.”

“That's… complicated,” Kirito said slowly, finally letting himself fall back on his bed. “He's definitely the one pulling the strings, but whether he caused the Great Separation, exactly… I never heard exactly how Aincrad came about until you told us, so I couldn't say for sure.”

Something about that statement seemed oddly evasive to her, but as far as she could tell he meant what he said. It's more like… there's something he isn't saying that I'm missing…

Well, that could wait for another time. It was enough, tonight, just taking in the truth of how horribly the Swordmasters had been betrayed. Any other unpleasant or awkward tales could wait.

“If he is there,” she said instead, “let us do our best to be among those who confront him. I want to know, Kirito, what would possess someone to do such a thing. Although,” she added, almost to herself, “I cannot quite bring myself to condemn him entirely. Your arrival gave Aincrad's people hope… and allowed us to meet.”

Kirito was spared the necessity of deciding whether to respond or pretend he didn't hear it—for all she knew he might not have, though she was reasonably sure his hearing was sharp enough—by a hesitant knock at the door.

Whether he heard it or not, he was quick to answer the knock, darting over to the door before she could even move. I wonder if that's Argo? Kizmel mused, in the moment before the door opened. It would be typical of her sense of timing… But no, her knock is more distinctive than that.

When Kirito pulled open the door, it proved to be Sachi on the other side, wearing a nightgown and a sheepish expression, pillow tucked under one arm. “Um, sorry to intrude,” she said softly. “But… I still couldn't sleep. Do you two mind one more, just for tonight…?”

From the look on his face, Kirito couldn't decide whether to be relieved Sachi hadn't jumped to conclusions about himself and Kizmel, or utterly, helplessly confused about what to do next. “Uh, well, I don't really mind,” he stuttered, “but—”

You would think he hadn't shared a tent with Asuna and me, more than once, Kizmel thought, amused. “It's no problem at all, Sachi,” she said, shifting closer to the wall. “There's plenty of room.”

Sachi smiled, relieved. “Thanks, Kizmel,” she said, brushing past the still-petrified Kirito. “I think I really will be better now, but… just for now…”

“I understand.”

Kizmel had never had the paralyzing fear that Sachi was only beginning to break out of, but she'd had nights where she couldn't stand to be alone. She'd never told either of them, but the truth was that she'd been deeply grateful when Kirito and Asuna joined her in her tent, which had been so empty after her sister fell to the Forest Elves. Without them, she didn't know what she might've done.

Died, she reminded herself, adjusting her position to make room for Sachi to lie down. Before anything else, I owed them my life.

As the two girls started to settle in, Kirito finally shook himself, muttered something about never letting Asuna hear about this, and took a single step back toward the still-open door. Only a single step, because a loud, cheerful voice stopped him right in his tracks.

“Oi, Kii-bou! You must be psychic, ya even left the door open for me!”

Kizmel looked past a startled Sachi at a suddenly-petrified Kirito. “Did you send a message to Argo about training sites already?”

“…I am so dead…”

No time to close the door now, and no time to warn the unprepared Sachi. Argo breezed right in, wearing her typical hooded cloak and equally typical sly grin. “I was hoping to catch ya by surprise, especially after the way you've been keepin' me in the dark lately about where ya been, but—eh?”

“Um. Hello?” Sachi said weakly, smiling cautiously.

Argo stared at her for a beat, then grinned even wider, turning the expression on the hapless Kirito. “Well, somebody's been busy! First you had Kizmel-chan turn up outta nowhere, now this? Ya branching out into harems now, Kii-bou?”

Doing her very best to keep a straight face, Kizmel said somberly, “That would require Her Majesty's permission, Argo.”

“Argo!”

Chapter 4: Chapter IV: Black Cat Requiem II

Chapter Text

Chapter IV: Black Cat Requiem II

Saturday, July 22nd, 2023

There were a lot of things about the past year that Kirito could understand well enough, however great the changes were from the life he'd lived before Sword Art Online. He didn't fully grasp Kayaba Akihiko's intentions, but he could at least generally grasp the idea of a megalomaniac. He could see why the death conditions had been instated, however horrible they were.

He could even understand, though he railed against it as much as anyone, why things had been changed from the beta.

Kirito could understand those things, and roll with the punches well enough. What he didn't get was how his position in society had changed so much. Being reviled by some as a “Beater”? He could get that; it was because of faulty logic at best, but the logic was there. The situation he was in now? Not so much.

That Kizmel more or less had to share his room, he could get, but not her casual—sometimes, he occasionally thought, just this side of outright flirtatious—reaction to the necessity. Sachi turning up made some sense, given her explanation, but it still left him wondering what kind of cosmic “perfect storm” of coincidences led to two girls sharing his bedroom.

Argo wandering in at exactly the perfect moment to troll him about his supposed luck with girls? Kirito was about ready to pack it in and declare the universe completely insane. If Asuna had suddenly appeared to complete the “set”, he'd have been strongly tempted to jump out the window. It would've been an insane act, but he was already starting to doubt his own sanity anyway.

I'm a gamer otaku who can barely speak with his own sister these days. Why is it I have only one guy on my friends list, in a game where the gender ratio is skewed away from girls?

At least he wasn't alone in his embarrassment for once. Kizmel might've taken Argo's teasing completely in stride, but Sachi had been reduced to sputtering, hiding her face behind the pillow she'd brought with her.

The Rat herself cackled unrepentantly, flopping herself inelegantly into the chair by the room's desk. “Found yourself another Aa-chan, have you, Kii-bou?” she said, flipping back her hood and grinning. “I wondered what you'd been up to lately; hardly saw you when the Thirty-First was being cleared. Then outta nowhere you ask me about quests fifteen floors below the front?” That grin, Kirito thought, was showing fangs now. “Got a story for me, Kii-bou?”

Groaning, Kirito dropped back on his bed and covered his face with both hands. “Nothing exciting, Argo. Kizmel and I were just looking for mats for upgrades a couple weeks back when we ran into another party having trouble. They asked us for help, so we've been giving them a hand with leveling since then.”

“Given the need for additional clearers, at least for mapping the labyrinths, it seemed worth the delay,” Kizmel put in, propping herself up on one elbow to better look past the girl sharing her bed. “As Kirito says, though, not a particularly noteworthy tale.”

“Uh-huh. Not quite sure Aa-chan would believe that, but I guess we'll only find out if she thinks to ask.” Definitely teeth showing now, if they hadn't been earlier. “So, you gonna introduce me?”

Giving a resigned sigh, Kirito lowered his hands. “Right… Argo, this is Sachi, of the Moonlit Black Cats; Kizmel and I are training her up to be one of their forwards. Sachi, this is Argo. They call her the Rat, and it's not just because she's the best info broker in Aincrad.”

Reluctantly, Sachi lowered the pillow, revealing a bright blush. “U-um, nice to meet you, Argo,” she managed. “Er… I think we actually met before, once? You were asking some questions a week or so before the first boss fight…?”

That was possibly only the second time Kirito had ever seen Argo puzzled by something. The satisfying experience didn't last, though, as the Rat's expression quickly turned from a thoughtful frown to raised-eyebrows recognition. “Ah, that's right, I remember now. Back when I was… Never mind, I'd have to charge Kii-bou and Kizmel-chan for that one, and I don't think they could afford it.”

Eh? Kirito exchanged a confused look with Kizmel. The only other time he could remember not being able to afford Argo's prices—as opposed to not finding it worth it—had been the question of why she had whiskers, which he'd gotten out of her anyway as a favor. What on earth had Argo been researching that far back that would be as expensive as she was implying?

“Never mind that, anyway,” Argo said, waving a hand dismissively. “Good to see you're doing well, Sachi-chan. Your guild's in good hands; whatever some idiots may say about Kii-bou, he and Kii-chan are real softies, and almost as good at what they do as I am at what I do.”

Almost? And “Kii-chan”? Somehow I get the feeling Asuna would either laugh at that one, or hit me. For some reason.

“So.” Suddenly, the Rat was all business, propping right leg on left knee. “You're looking for quests that a group of low- to mid-level players can do, if they've got a couple of clearers for backup? I can think of a few. Though first you might wanna do a little more regular grinding; I know one place on the Twentieth that's good for that…”

“I know, Asuna and I sold you the info in the first place, remember?” Kirito said dryly. “Big praying mantises, easy to dodge if you know what you're doing, that's what you're thinking of, right?”

“Darn, that's right. How'd I forget that?” From the grin, Kirito suspected Argo hadn't; after all, it wasn't her fault if somebody bought info they'd just forgotten they already had. “Okay, then. Three thousand Cor for Argo's Midlevel Quest Guide, Floors Twenty to Twenty-Five; sound fair?”

Sachi blinked. “You… already have something like that?”

“It's Argo,” Kirito told her, shaking his head. “The Black Cats probably aren't the first mid-level players to ask her about that.” Pulling up his menu, he materialized a small pouch of Cor.

“Besides which, she was undoubtedly taking notes when the clearing group went through,” Kizmel agreed. “Be careful, Sachi: the fact that you're here is now something she can sell, if she finds the right buyer.”

The other girl looked, if anything, even more confused. “Why would anyone want to buy information like that?”

“Remind Kirito to tell you later what happened the last time I said that.” The elf smiled, apparently amused by the memory. “Suffice to say Argo made a profit off the leaders of the Knights of Blood for a story I thought of no particular value.”

“Yep! You just gotta know your clients.” Still grinning, Argo hopped out of her chair, exchanged a small book for the coinage Kirito offered up, and headed for the door. “Get through those, then talk to me again when you're ready for more of a challenge, eh? And Kii-bou—don't get too carried away tonight; gotta save some strength for the mobs!”

A full minute after the Rat had swept out the door with a cackle, Sachi still looked like her face could double as a furnace; thanks to SAO's emotional expression system, there was quite literally steam coming out of her ears. “Is… is she always like that…?” she got out, hiding her face in her pillow again.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Kirito strongly suspected the only reason he wasn't steaming himself was a measure of resistance from frequency of exposure. “Like I said, she's not called the Rat just because she's so good at getting information. Don't even ask what happened the first time she met Asuna…”

He shuddered. It had taken some time for him to even remember exactly what happened; he thought his mind had probably blocked it out for his own sanity. When some glimpses of the truth had returned to him, he'd made very, very sure not to betray even a hint of recollection to Asuna.

“Interesting… That's a story I haven't heard before, Kirito.” When he looked up again, it was to see Kizmel looking back at him, obviously intrigued. “Knowing Argo, it must have been quite—”

“Don't ask,” he repeated, more forcefully. “Really, don't. Asuna will kill me if she gets any suspicion anybody else knows what happened.”

To Kirito's surprise, the next sound to break the silence was a quiet giggle, from Sachi. The girl was still blushing, but the steam at least had subsided, and she was even smiling now.

“Sorry,” she said, when she realized he was looking at her. “It's just… that's one way to take my mind off everything else. Even if it is embarrassing, it's… It feels kind of normal, you know? Like schoolgirl gossip. Well,” Sachi amended, giggling again, “schoolgirl in a dating sim, anyway.”

“'Dating sim'?”

“Don't ask about that either,” Kirito said hastily, not liking the look on his partner's face. “Or if you have to, ask Sachi later. Or Asuna. Just—sometime when I'm not here.” Abruptly, he flung himself down on the bed, turning determinedly to face the wall. “Anyway, Argo's right. Let's get some sleep.”

He tried very, very hard not to pay any attention to the rest of the world after that. He even managed to convince himself he did not hear a chuckle from Kizmel.

Kirito did, however, resort to ever-so-inconspicuously grabbing his pillow and putting it over his ears, when the whispering started. He did not, by any means, want to risk overhearing “girl talk”. It was an experience he was sure he was less likely to survive with his dignity intact than even the first hours of exploring the Fourth Floor.

I'm a socially-hopeless solo. How the hell did this happen to me?!?

Tuesday, July 25th, 2023

Kirito wasn't sure what, exactly, had changed, but when they got back to leveling the morning after Sachi's crisis of confidence—and Argo's trolling visit—the Black Cats' coordination seemed just a little bit better than it had been before. Or rather, he knew what had changed, he just didn't know why.

Kizmel, he figured, did have some notion of why Sachi was just a bit more willing to go on the offensive with her sword and shield combination, but if so the elf didn't seem inclined to explain. When Kirito asked, she just smiled, shook her head, and said something about “girl talk”.

Those were the magic words to get him to drop the subject. Even still, he was intensely curious.

They'd spent one more day in their usual hunting grounds, Keita being unsure that Sachi really was recovered from her depression. After that, they'd gone up to the Twentieth Floor and the clearing Kirito remembered well from when he and Asuna had originally helped clear the floor. A small patch of open ground between a forest and a cliff pockmarked with caves, it was home to Venom Mantises, whose combination of spawn rate, EXP reward, and simple attack patterns made them ideal for careful grinding.

For this, Kirito and Kizmel mostly stood back, only intervening if it looked like the Black Cats were about to be surrounded. In contrast to when they'd been farming Spike Boars and Rage Crows, the small guild was more coordinated, and Sachi's slowly-growing confidence was a helpful change from her earlier timidity.

Watching with a clinical eye as the Black Cats split up to take on a pair of mantises—Tetsuo and Keita handling one, Sasamaru and Sachi the other, Ducker using his knife to strike wherever there was an opening—Kirito reflected that the biggest issue now was purely logistical. The mantis' claw swipes weren't too hard to deal with, once you got the pattern down, but they were called Venom Mantises for a reason.

The poison they spat was also pretty easy for Kirito to dodge, but he was used to mobs with projectile-based attacks. The way Sachi had to take one such noxious glob on her buckler, causing the metal-rimmed wood to sizzle audibly, showed that the Black Cats had little experience with the threat themselves. More to the point, the corrosive poison was rough on the equipment durability; Kirito estimated they'd need to have their gear repaired at least twice as often, until they got the timing memorized.

They're getting there, though, he thought. Sachi flinched at the sizzle, but struck back gamely with a Slant that took one of the mantis' claws off at the elbow. After waiting out the Skill Delay, during which Sasamaru held it off with a Straight Thrust at the giant bug's thorax, she braced herself, let out a yell, and put her whole body into a Horizontal that took its head clean off.

Huh. She already knows the trick of “helping” the System Assist… y'know, when her skill level gets high enough to get some of the longer combo skills, she's going to be pretty good.

Not that the other Black Cats were slouches, for all that Kirito still thought they tended to be a bit overenthusiastic. It was just that Sachi seemed to know a little bit more than they did, and had just needed a push to realize she did. Not just in terms of fighting skill, either; sometimes he thought he saw a depth in her gaze, an understanding of the real gravity of the situation, that even the cautious Keita didn't quite seem to match.

Or maybe he was just imagining it. It could, Kirito realized, just have been that he saw more of Sachi than he did the rest of the guild. Contrary to her own words that one night, she'd been turning up at the room he and Kizmel shared every night since; only three nights so far, to be sure, but enough that it was starting to feel like a routine.

He wasn't sure how to feel about that. Kizmel didn't seem to mind, though, and it was the elf's bed that Sachi was sharing, so Kirito had decided it wasn't something he should speak out against.

No matter how weird it feels. If there's anything about SAO that still feels unreal, it's how many girls keep showing up.

With a shout of triumph, Tetsuo bashed the remaining mantis' head in with his mace. With the bug dispersing into blue polygons, Ducker and Sasamaru exchanged a high-five, and Keita clapped in approval. “Nice work, everybody!” he called. “Now, it'll be about fifteen minutes before the next respawn, and we don't want to hog the EXP, so let's break for lunch.”

Those were two reasons for a break that Kirito would never question. He didn't need any more problems with his reputation—however welcoming the Black Cats had ended up being, he had no illusions that they were the norm for their level—and food was one of the few real luxuries he had in Aincrad.

Asuna would say it's the baths, he thought, as the group made their way to the field Safe Haven they were using as a rest area. Me? Give me a good sandwich any day.

Kizmel, Kirito suspected, would split the difference and say both were about equally worthwhile out in the field. Of course, he also suspected a lot of her apparent fondness for baths stemmed from the opportunities to mess with his head—maybe she really was as unconcerned by human standards of modesty as she appeared, but she did know mixed bathing wasn't normal among the Swordmasters.

He really wanted to blame Argo for that. Unfortunately, Kizmel had shown signs of that particular brand of mischief as far back as the time he'd ended up scrubbing her back, long before she ever met the Rat. Worse, Argo was really all talk; Kizmel might've liked his reactions, but that very incident proved she'd take the assistance as readily as she would the laughs.

As they all trooped into a clearing distinguished from the rest of the forest only by map icon and a faint visual distortion around its edges, though, it was food that had her attention for now. While Kirito contented himself with a sandwich, and the Black Cats pulled out similarly simple rations, Kizmel withdrew from a belt pouch a carefully-wrapped slice of apple pie.

It was only NPC-vendor food, nowhere close to what a player could make if they got their Cooking skill high enough—though why anyone would waste a valuable skill slot and the time needed to raise it on a non-combat-related skill like that, he had no idea—but it seemed to be good enough for her. Human food in general was something she'd been experimenting with a lot lately.

Most of it, Kizmel seemed to find at least interesting. One dish they'd come across on the Twentieth-Eighth Floor, though, had had her looking as disgusted as she had back when they were dealing with messily-explosive Fire Goats.

Not that I blame her. If anybody needed any more proof Kayaba's crazy, including haggis as a menu item at NPC restaurants would be it.

Kirito's thoughts were interrupted by Keita flopping down next to him, resting his back against a tree. “You know, I never would've guessed there was a place this good for leveling on this floor,” he said, around a bite of plain bread. “We'd actually been up here a couple of times before we met you and Kizmel, but everything we encountered was a lot harder to deal with.”

“You just have to know where to look,” Kirito replied with a shrug. “It's like any RPG, really. Places that can be exploited like this to give an early advantage can be found on a lot of floors. You just have to search carefully, that's all.”

“With a full party, I might have risked doing just that,” Keita said, shaking his head. “A full party, and a few more levels. With just one other player, like you and Asuna-san did? Not a chance.”

“We did have Argo's info on a lot of the rest of the floor,” Kirito reminded him, and paused to take another bite out of his sandwich. “Otherwise, though… Yeah, it's safer to go around in a full party, but if you know what you're doing, you'd be surprised what kind of places you can reach by yourself.”

“I'll take your word for it.” Keita chuckled. “Me, if I was all by myself, I'd probably run back to the City of Beginnings and never come out again… But I'm not, and we're doing a little better every day.” He glanced at the beta tester sidelong. “So, this… Argo… She gave you some suggestions for some tougher quests we can tackle?”

More like sold at top market value, Kirito thought ruefully. “A few,” he acknowledged. “There's one on this floor that we can try tomorrow; before that, I think you guys can probably reach the next level by the end of today.”

He still wasn't happy about moving on to more challenging battles. With Asuna or Kizmel, he wouldn't have been too worried—from first meeting with both, he'd known they could handle themselves well enough, even if Asuna had started out frighteningly fatalistic—but the Black Cats still seemed a bit too carefree about fighting for his liking.

They'd push it with or without us, though, Kirito reminded himself. Besides, I'm probably selling them short… And if anything does go wrong, Kizmel and I should be more than strong enough to handle anything this floor has to offer. Asuna and I already managed it once, after all…

“There you are, Kirito-kun!”

Kirito was so startled he almost dropped his sandwich. Fumbling frantically for it, only when he secured his grip did he glance up to look at the source of the voice that had almost cost him his lunch. “What the—Asuna?”

Just now walking into the Safe Haven clearing, it was unmistakably his former partner, wearing the fancy guild uniform he still hadn't fully adjusted to. She had a slightly fancier rapier than when he'd last seen, too; though if he knew her, it had been crafted using her previous weapon for raw materials.

Asuna was just sheathing said rapier as she approached, having presumably just fought her way through the local forest mobs. “I've been wondering where you and Kizmel-chan kept disappearing to,” she said, coming to a stop a mere meter or so away. “We've been so busy lately that I didn't have time to check into it, though.”

Uncomfortably aware of the stares the Black Cats were favoring the both of them with now, Kirito cleared his throat awkwardly. “That's, uh, kind of a long story, Asuna,” he said, hurriedly tucking the remains of his sandwich into his item storage. “Um. I'm surprised to see you down here,” he went on, groping for a topic. “If you're still so busy—”

“I need some mats to upgrade my armor, and when I asked Argo, she said I should talk to you before I went farming. Something about how it'd be easier if you vouched for me.” Asuna glanced around, only then seeming to notice there were people other than her target and his partner present. “Oh. Could someone introduce me, please?”

Kizmel smoothly drew herself to her feet. “Of course. Asuna, these are the Moonlit Black Cats, the guild Kirito and I have been helping for the last few weeks. Guildmaster Keita, Macer Tetsuo, Lancer Sasamaru, self-proclaimed Thief Ducker, and Swordmaster Sachi.”

Kirito stifled a chuckle at the way she referred to Ducker; and wondered, inwardly, why Sachi was the only one his partner explicitly referred to as a Swordmaster. Might just be because Sachi's the only one who actually uses a sword, he mused. We don't hang around other players enough for her to really make a distinction most of the time, I guess.

“Keita, everyone,” Kizmel went on, “this is Vice-Commander Asuna, of the Knights of Blood. Kirito and I traveled with her extensively some months ago, and still fight together against Field and Pillar Guardians. I can assure you that she won't monopolize resources or hunting grounds here on the lower floors.”

Asuna's eyebrows went up for a moment, then she nodded in understanding. She, of course, would know as well as any clearer—with how long she'd traveled with Kirito, actually, better than most—the tensions between low- and mid-level players and those who blazed the trail ever higher through the Steel Castle.

“That's right,” she said, bowing politely to Keita. “We're expecting to fight a Field Boss up on the Thirty-Second Floor soon, and my armor could use a little work first. I'll be out of your way after that.”

“I see,” Keita said, looking more than a little off-balance at meeting one of the most famous people in Aincrad. He was still doing better than his guildmates, though; Tetsuo and Sasamaru were trying not to stare, while Ducker and Sachi were openly fixated on Asuna. Not, Kirito suspected, for the same reasons, but still. “Ah, pardon me! It's a pleasure to meet you, Asuna-san.”

“Likewise, Keita-san. Now… hopefully, we'll have a chance to speak more later, but I'm afraid I'm on something of a tight schedule.” Asuna turned to Kizmel. “Can we talk for a minute, Kizmel-chan? I want to know how you and Kirito got into this in the first place, and I trust you to give me more details than him.”

“Hey,” Kirito protested. “Are you saying I'd lie about it?”

“If you have any embarrassing secrets about the last couple of weeks, yes,” she said bluntly, with a deceptively sweet smile totally at odds with the declaration. “Since I don't feel like paying Argo a few thousand Cor…”

As was all too common when Asuna called him out on something like that, Kirito could only manage incoherent sputtering in reply, which served to confuse the Black Cats and provoke a quiet laugh from Kizmel.

“There, you see?” Asuna turned back to the elf once more. “Now c'mon, Kizmel-chan, give it to me straight…”

The two of them drifted off to the other end of the clearing, leaving a shell-shocked Kirito with an equally-unbalanced Keita. “That is Asuna the Flash?” the Black Cat guild leader muttered. “She's…”

“Impossible to say no to?” Kirito finished, leaning heavily against his chosen tree. “Hard on a guy's ego?”

“I was going to say, just like anyone else,” Keita replied, shaking his head. “I mean, she's a legend, and yet she's… And she talks to Kizmel the way you do. That's not something I expected out of the second-in-command of an up-and-coming clearing guild.”

“She and Kizmel hit it off pretty well, back when we all first met,” Kirito said, raising an unsteady hand to bring his sandwich back into physical form. “Asuna didn't start out as a major figure in guild politics, y'know… And after Tilnel died around a month before that, she's been the closest Kizmel has to a sister.”

It took him a moment to realize he'd said anything that might be considered odd, and even then only did because he noticed Keita directing a very strange look at him. The Black Cat was, actually, giving him the kind of look Kirito thought would be reserved for someone who'd just claimed to be Napoleon.

“…What?” he asked, when the silence began to drag on.

“Nothing,” Keita said slowly. “It's just… You do know she's just an NPC, right? I mean, yeah, she's got better response algorithms than I've ever seen, but… Considering the nature of her quest line, Tilnel probably didn't even exist, Kirito. It's just flavor text.”

Kirito blinked. It had been so long since he and Kizmel had dealt with anyone but other clearers on a regular basis—people who knew them well by this point—that he'd forgotten the usual reaction to her wasn't blasé acceptance. I don't even think about it very much anymore myself. I mean, after the sixth or so time an “AI” trolls me Argo-style, not to mention she handles even vague comments just fine…

“Kizmel isn't 'just' an NPC, Keita,” he said at length, watching as the elf in question carried on her animated discussion with Asuna. “Maybe you're still using the kind of keywords and phrases you would with any quest NPC, so you haven't noticed, but Asuna and I both talk to her just like we would any player. I've never seen Kizmel fall back on any kind of 'I don't understand the question' line.”

Keita shook his head. “I've seen you explaining things to her before, Kirito.”

“And half the time, she figures out the answer before I'm halfway done, even with things I'm positive aren't in the Cardinal System's database.” Kirito took a few moments to finish off his sandwich while he had the chance, and continued, “Sure, sometimes I have to explain, but with ordinary NPCs that wouldn't even work. Sooner or later, I'd get the stock response, and with Kizmel I never have.”

The Black Cat guildmaster stared at him a heartbeat longer. “If you say so,” he said finally. He was obviously unconvinced, but he turned his attention back to the remnants of his own lunch after that.

Kirito didn't entirely blame him. All this time, and he still didn't understand Kizmel's nature. He knew pretty much everything that had been publicly released about SAO's core systems, and kept up with the literature about research into artificial intelligence, and as far as he knew true, bottom-up, fully-sapient AI was considered to be decades away at best.

Still. After all this time, I haven't found anything that she couldn't handle. At some point, even SAO's AI roulette should've hit a roadblock, especially in casual conversation—but she never has. Either Kayaba managed to account for an insane number of possible topics—way more than it would be worth it for just a regular quest NPC—or she's being directly controlled by some human accomplice of Kayaba's, or…

Or there's something else going on. And given her “dreams” about our meetings in the beta, unless Kayaba somehow singled me out of a thousand players to specifically mess with, I don't think there's a human behind her.

He didn't know of any way to explain all of that, though, so he kept silent. All he had to go on was speculation and gut feeling, nothing really concrete.

It was enough, though. He and Asuna knew there was more to Kizmel than what met the eye, and he was getting the impression Sachi didn't see her as just a program, either. As far as Kirito was concerned, what everyone else thought didn't really matter.

The worst that will happen, Kirito thought, is people will think I'm a bit strange. That's not exactly the worst anybody's ever thought about me. So long as we keep up our end of things in boss fights, nobody is going to care enough to make much of an issue of it.

His musings were interrupted one more time by Asuna and Kizmel rejoining the group. “I'm sorry to interrupt your training,” she said, with another formal bow. “But I'd like to borrow Kirito-kun and Kizmel-chan for a couple of hours. I just need some mats from this floor's labyrinth, and it would be more efficient if I had their help.”

“That's fine,” Keita said quickly, obviously still struck by being spoken to by a virtual idol of Aincrad. “We're close to the point we're trying to reach just now anyway… Actually,” he added hesitantly, glancing at his guildmates as if to ask their input, “if you'd like, we could help, too. It would be a change from fighting Venom Mantises all the time…”

From the back-slaps Tetsuo and Sasamaru exchanged, Ducker's cheerful “Yeah!”, and Sachi's tentative nod, Kirito didn't think he'd face much opposition to the idea.

Asuna hesitated herself for a moment, but when Kirito gave her a reassuring nod, she smiled. “All right, then, we'll all go. I'll be in your care, everyone.”

Just don't let Argo show up, Kirito prayed silently, as they shifted party arrangements around to put himself, Asuna, and Kizmel into a separate group. I can't imagine how she might make things worse here, but that's actually even scarier—no, wait. I do know exactly what she'd do, and it is that bad.

Doubtless Kizmel had explained what was up with Sachi, in a conspiratorial, sisterly way. Even she, though, obviously hadn't mentioned Argo's crack about harems. Kirito knew that, because Asuna wasn't breathing fire.

Within moments, the two parties were on their way toward the tower leading up to the next floor. Every step of the way, Kirito kept an eye out for whiskers in the shadows.

Sachi had learned a lot over the weeks since meeting Kirito and Kizmel. About how much bigger and deeper SAO itself was than she'd ever imagined, about how to use the sword Keita had urged her to take up, and how to really fight within the rules the game enforced. She'd even been given a glimpse into the world of the clearers, even if Kirito was always quick to point out he and Kizmel weren't really representative.

Seeing how the two clearers she knew fought when they were working with a third, instead of the inexperienced Black Cats, was an educational experience by itself.

Normally, it would've taken around two hours for the Black Cats to reach the labyrinth from the Twentieth Floor's central town, slowed as they were by looking out for and actually fighting mobs across the intervening distance. Even lately that hadn't changed, with their “seniors” letting them do most of the work; their teamwork was improving, but they still had a ways to go, and their levels were still fairly low.

Today, Sachi found herself forced out of her own usual hesitance simply from trying to keep up. The party of clearers maintained a steady pace that she could tell was actually slower than what they were truly capable of, allowing the Black Cats to keep up, and any mob that got in the way was summarily shredded with a degree of coordination that to Sachi's eyes seemed nearly psychic.

Kizmel had said that Vice-Commander Asuna had started the death game as a complete amateur, and Kirito had privately told her afterwards that “the Flash” not only had no experience with VR games, but had never played more than a mobile game prior to being trapped. If that was true, then Sachi was deeply impressed; Asuna was the first player she'd ever seen who approached Kirito's own insane speed.

A couple of hundred meters from the entrance to the labyrinth, Tetsuo whistled. “No wonder they call her the Flash,” he said, as Asuna ran a stray Lizard Knight through with blinding speed. “I don't think I've even seen Kirito move that fast… Just how high is her level?”

“I don't think it's just her level,” Sachi replied, jogging to try and catch up. “She's not just letting the system handle it; she really knows how to perform the skills.” That, Kizmel had explained to her one night, was one of the keys to using Sword Skills to their fullest: deliberately moving with the attack, instead of just being pulled along by the System Assist.

Of course, if you messed up, it left you stuck and vulnerable to counterattack, but the elf girl shrugged that off as a risk of any improperly-performed act on the battlefield.

Not that she'd phrased it in terms of System Assist, framing it instead as one of the simple but effective charms left to the people of Aincrad. Still, it got the point across well enough, as with most things Kizmel had told her since they'd started to get to know each other.

Watching as Kizmel sped into the gap Asuna created to casually lop the head off a second sword-wielding reptile, Sachi wondered again what was really going on. Keita, she knew, wrote it off as just highly-advanced AI, no different from any other NPC in Aincrad; if Kizmel was any better at combat than most, well, she'd been intended to fight with players, not against.

Ordinarily, Sachi might've agreed; the Black Cats were a computer club in the real world, she knew the current state of AI development as well as her friend and guildmaster. Maybe Kayaba was ahead of the rest of the world, but this was the man who'd invented the NerveGear and done the vast majority of SAO's programming. It wouldn't be odd if his AI coding was equally groundbreaking.

She had something Keita didn't, though: in the earliest days, before the Black Cats as a whole adjusted to the conditions of the death game, Sachi had gone on quests without them. Tragedy had driven her back into a shell with her friends, but before that happened, she had gone on quests that included NPC allies.

They were never this smooth. You had to give specific commands, and they still didn't always do exactly what you needed them to. Try and give vague directions like Kirito and Asuna-san do, and they'd freeze. Gamer-invented slang? Forget it. Even SAO's bots just aren't that good.

Never mind having late-night girl talk. Sachi had been so delighted to have another girl to talk to again, even with Kizmel's elven worldview, that it had taken her two nights to realize it shouldn't have even been possible.

They were clear into the dungeon before anything broke her train of thought. So thoroughly had the party of clearers demolished everything in the way that she'd allowed herself to lose track of her surroundings, right up until Asuna shouted a warning. “There's something coming from the side passage—Sachi-san, look out!”

Adrenaline flooded Sachi's veins with ice water, and she spun just in time to see a trio of Skeleton Knights blundering through the doorway immediately to her left. In the frozen clarity of the moment, she recognized that their cursors were a red dark enough to be worrying—and that Kirito's party was a crucial few meters ahead, facing an even tougher Skeleton Knight Commander.

“Tetsuo, take the one on the left!” someone shouted. “I've got the right!”

It was only when her buckler came up to smoothly block the right-hand skeleton's opening Vertical that Sachi realized it was her own voice.

Acting on pure, startled reflex, she shoved back against the attack, forcing the Skeleton Knight off-balance. Then her right leg swung forward, bringing her closer, and her sword arm flashed out with a blinding red flash; first a backhand across the skeleton's empty eye sockets, then a forehand back across its neck.

Its HP dropped in the yellow from the two-hit Horizontal Arc she'd learned just two days before, but it was still alive, and she was trapped for a few crucial heartbeats in the recovery frame. Again without conscious thought, though, she called out, “Sasamaru, Switch!”

Her guildmate's spear drove past in a simple Straight Thrust on the heels of her yell, catching the Skeleton Knight right in the ribs. Had it been a living mob, it would've been a critical hit to the heart; as it was, it bounced off the rear of the ribcage, doing minimal actual damage and merely knocking it back half a step.

Half a step, half a breath. Long enough for Sachi to be released from the recovery frame, and launch another Horizontal Arc to take the skeleton's HP down to zero, sending the white-boned skull flying off its bony neck to shatter in brilliant blue.

Two paces to her left, Tetsuo's heavier mace—generally a superior weapon for dealing with skeletal enemies—smashed his target out of existence with a blow to the top of the skull; he'd been slower off the mark, and had a good five percent knocked off his own HP for his troubles, but he hadn't required Sasamaru's assistance.

One to go, Sachi thought, heart pounding. She thought she heard another shattering sound somewhere behind her, a distant, calmer part of her mind noting it wasn't the pitch of a player's death, but paid it no mind, instead raising her shield to defend against the Sharp Nail the last Skeleton Knight tried to deliver to her head.

Up to one side, across to the other, then down in a blow that by rights should've left her arm numb from the impact. Even so, Sachi's shield held, and she gathered herself to take advantage of the mob's recovery time. Her brain was still lagging behind her reflexes, and she began the pre-motion for another skill she'd just recently learned—

The sound of rapid footsteps, a flash of white and red. A brilliant blue light, like a meteor in the dark. Aimed precisely at the Skeleton Knight's left eye socket, a thin blade drove forward with impossible speed, and with one thrust sent its lifebar plummeting from blue to yellow, then to red and gone in a fraction of a second.

Pulling her rapier out of scattering polygons, Asuna flourished the blade, then sheathed it; a motion that looked as smooth and practiced as any Jidai Geki samurai flicking blood off a katana. Turning to face Sachi, her face smoothed from intense concentration to a friendly smile. “Made it,” she said, sounding distinctly satisfied. “GJ, Sachi-san,” she added, uttering the gaming shorthand as casually as if she really were a long-time gamer.

Drawing a deep, shuddering breath, Sachi slowly straightened from the crouch her defense had left her in. “GJ, Asuna-san,” she said in return, trying to match the other girl's casual demeanor.

I did it, she thought, trying to quell the shaking in her limbs as the adrenaline high left her. I didn't even think about it. I just—acted. I… I haven't done that since before that day…

Sachi abruptly noticed Asuna was studying her intently. She wondered if something in her thoughts had shown after all, and if so, what the Vice-Commander of the Knights of Blood thought of it. This strong, incredibly fast girl who'd risen from the newest of “noobs” to de facto leader of boss raids in just a few months.

Whatever Asuna saw, she apparently liked it, because she suddenly smiled again. “Kirito-kun always did have a good eye for talent,” she said. “Keep it up, Sachi-chan. Kirito-kun and Kizmel-chan will make a clearer of you yet.”

With that pronouncement, the fencer turned and headed back to her own small party. Sachi was still staring after her, full of conflicting emotions, when a hand clapped her on the shoulder and about sent her straight into the labyrinth's stone ceiling.

“See?” Keita said with a grin, when she spun to face him. “We're getting there, Sachi. Someday the Black Cats will be right on the frontlines with the KoB and the DDA!”

For just a moment, remembering that stark clarity as her body did exactly what she needed it to, Sachi almost believed it. She started to wonder if, just maybe, she could become strong, despite the dismal failure that had driven her back to the City of Beginnings, before Keita pushed them all back out again.

She was still frightened. From the damage Tetsuo had taken from only a single unblocked hit, she knew Death lurked even within the range of floors the Black Cats considered “safe”. For the first time in months, though, the fear was back to what it had been in the days following Kayaba's chilling “tutorial”, not the paralyzing terror that had been her captor since the middle of December.

A clearer, me? No… I can't quite believe that. But… maybe, just maybe… I won't have to die here after all. Maybe… I can at least live to see the reason this all happened.

“Hurry up, everyone!” Kizmel called back then, interrupting Sachi's thoughts and Tetsuo's ribbing of Sasamaru and Ducker for being “useless”. “We still haven't even found the Iron Beetles Asuna needs, and we're running low on daylight.”

“We're coming!” Sachi called back, and led the Black Cats in trying to catch up with the well-practiced team of clearers.

It was dark by the time the two groups returned to town and teleported back to Taft. Apparently that was pushing Asuna's schedule more than she'd intended, so she quickly said her goodbyes and departed for the KoB's current headquarters on a higher floor; likewise, Kirito and Kizmel retired to their room at their usual inn, citing a need to rest while they had the chance, wanting to be fresh for when they took on the first of the quests Argo had recommended.

That left the Black Cats to themselves, gathered for the moment in Keita's room. They were tired, too, and Sachi intended to quietly slip away to join the two clearers soon, but they were also still coming down off the adrenaline from the day's trip to the dungeon.

“So that was one of the leaders of the clearers, huh,” Ducker commented, sitting with his back against one wall. “I knew she had to be good, but wow, a couple of times she made Kirito look slow!”

“They say the KoB only takes the best,” Keita said. He sat on the bed, his menu open to organize his share of the drops from the day's hunting. “I've heard their leader, Heathcliff, held the line against the Twenty-Fifth Floor boss while Asuna-san reorganized the rest… But like you said, we knew she was good. That wasn't what really interested me.”

Sasamaru glanced up from the table he and Tetsuo were using to sort their own loot. “Yeah? What was, then? I was too busy trying to keep those three in sight; they sure do move fast when they're in a hurry.”

“The way they coordinated was impressive,” Sachi offered, remembering her own observations during the dungeon run. “We're doing better, but we still have to think about it. It doesn't help,” she added dryly, rolling her eyes in a certain guildmate's direction, “that someone insisted that I switch weapons not that long ago. They don't have that problem.”

Although if pressed, she'd have been forced to admit the sword and shield combination did have its advantages. It forced her to stay closer to the mobs than her old spear, but it also left her a good deal more mobile, and the shield meant she could actually block when she couldn't dodge.

The tradeoff, she was starting to think, might actually be worthwhile. If she could get her skill level high enough to get the kind of multi-hit Sword Skills really needed to take down the mobs on the higher floors they'd been hitting lately.

Which is why I've been spending my nights the way I have been lately. Getting advice from Kizmel, and…

“You're doing a lot better with it the last few days,” Keita pointed out in response to Sachi's jibe. “You may not have noticed, but you did better against those Skeleton Knights than the rest of us. Well, except Tetsuo, but his weapon is the recommended one for mobs like that. Your sword was certainly better than my staff, or Sasamaru's spear.”

“Or Ducker's knife,” Tetsuo said, shaking his head. “Come to think of it… how many enemies did you actually hit when we got to the dungeon? 'Cause I can't really remember…”

“I got some hits in on those beetles Asuna-san was hunting,” the thief fired back. “Like it's my fault knives are even worse than rapiers usually are against skeleton-type mobs?”

“That actually goes back to Sachi's point about coordination,” Keita said, intervening before it could reach even mock-argument levels. “Of course, Kizmel had AI scripting on her side, but it really does say something that Kirito and Asuna-san could take out that Knight Commander so fast. Of course, we don't have their skill or experience yet to use any weapon on any mob yet, so we need to get better at using the right Swordmaster for the right enemy.”

Sachi found herself nodding at that. Kirito and Asuna were both good enough that they could use their preferred weapons against basically anything—particularly impressive that Asuna did so well with a thrusting weapon against enemies with such narrowly-defined hitboxes—but none of the Black Cats could make that claim.

Really, Tetsuo should've been the one to take out both of the Skeleton Knights, with me Switching in to keep them distracted while he recovered. Hm… actually, I should've been backing up Keita; his staff isn't as heavy as a mace, but it's still a blunt-force weapon…

“Anyway,” Keita continued, closing his menu with a wave of his hand, “those are all important points; but what really got my attention wasn't the skill, but the attitude.” He swung his legs up to recline on the bed, allowing him a clear view of his entire guild. “I know what Kirito's said, but this makes two clearers we've met—three if you count the way Kizmel's AI seems to have adjusted to them—and… really, they don't seem any different from us.”

“Two or three, out of a raid group of forty-eight, and who knows how many people mapping and filling in for raids, Keita,” Tetsuo pointed out. “Not exactly a representative sample, Leader.”

“Normally I'd agree with you,” Keita admitted. “But she's the second-in-command of what's shaping up to be the lead guild in the clearing group. To hear Kirito tell it, she's also effectively the field leader, who does a lot of the raid planning. She's not exactly low-profile.”

“The kind of girl you expect to be an honor's student telling everybody else to quit goofing off and study,” Ducker said, nodding in agreement. “Like, the class rep of the KoB.”

“Exactly.” The guildmaster shook his head. “But if she'd walked into that clearing without somebody telling me who she was, I never would've guessed that was who she was. She just started in on Kirito—you know, the 'Beater' who's supposed to be an outcast—like it was perfectly normal. She was even doing the same kind of role play with Kizmel that he does.”

Sachi frowned, but kept her peace. Whatever Keita thought about Kizmel, he at least treated her as normal when they actually interacted, and really, without her own experiences it was the natural assumption to make.

It still bothers me, though.

“My point is,” he went on, “I'm starting to think Kirito's been overly pessimistic about clearers in general. Not that I blame him, if half of what he said about the first boss fight is true—which it probably is, I remember the rumors from back then—but I think we should maybe keep the context in mind. As it is, it looks like we might fit in up there just fine.”

“Yeah, once we're strong enough to go through a dungeon ten floors below the frontline without help,” Sasamaru said. Despite his words, though, he was grinning. “But hey, that's just levels. Remember, guys, this ain't our first RPG; just 'cause it's VR doesn't mean the old rules about level-grinding don't still apply!”

Keita nodded firmly. “I don't want to tell Kirito this yet,” he said quietly. “I don't want him thinking we're overreaching; not until we really are strong enough to back it up. But I want us to be with the clearing group, at least for mapping, by the end of next month.”

Sachi didn't quite share the enthusiasm that sparked in her guildmates. She was still afraid, even if her confidence was slowly starting to build, and she wasn't at all sure that would be possible, let alone practical. Even so, the idea stirred something in her.

I don't think we can do it that fast… but we might get there by the end of the year. It's still a scary thought, too. If we can become that strong, though, and help clear the game… It's too late for—for too many of us, but there's still over seven thousand people to save.

I want to be a part of that.

Wednesday, July 26th, 2023

Gathering with the others in the Taft tavern that was now more or less their unofficial meeting place, Kizmel took the opportunity to look over the Black Cats as they arrived. This meeting was, after all, leading up to the first serious quest they'd taken on since she and Kirito had started working with them; their skill, and their attitude, would be critical.

So far, she was reasonably satisfied with their progress. Tetsuo was proving to be a solid forward; his mace was an inelegant but solid weapon, and he had the confidence to go with a fighting style focusing on close-range blunt impact. Sasamaru, she had less of a defined impression of—perhaps unfair, but in many ways he just seemed the least memorable of the guild, to her eyes—but so far he'd been consistent, reliable backup for Sachi. If nothing else, Kizmel thought, his timing tended to be excellent.

Ducker she was somewhat more concerned about. He seemed a bit overeager to her sensibilities—particular when treasure was involved; he did live up to his self-granted title—and his knife, while quick, was a far more situational weapon than she would've preferred. Still, he was fleet enough of foot that she and Kirito, consulting with Keita, had begun discussing how he might best be employed in hit-and-run attacks on mobs the others pinned down.

“All right, everyone, listen close,” Keita said into her musing, sitting at the head of the table they'd taken. “Today is going to be a little different from usual, and I want to make sure we're all on the same page. We're going to be attempting a quest on the Twenty-Third Floor, higher than we usually go.”

Kizmel nodded in silent approval. In actual battle, Keita's staff made him more of a support fighter, like Sasamaru, but he also had the caution and attention to detail that a leader needed. So far, he'd always been ready to rein in Ducker or Tetsuo when they got too enthusiastic.

“According to the information Kirito bought from Argo-san, the quest is 'Dwarven Bandit Extermination',” Keita continued, laying out the small book Argo had provided. “It should be a fairly simple quest, just clearing a small cave system of minor mobs, but there is supposed to be an elite 'Dwarf Bandit Lord' in there somewhere.”

“If you get far enough into the caves, you start running into more of those,” Kirito said, frowning in concentration. “Asuna and I went through there once for a different quest, and had to take a detour when we bumped into a whole party of them. According to another clearer I know, there's a 'King Under the Mountain' way in the deepest cavern; I've never gotten that far, but I don't think we want to risk that.”

“Right,” Keita agreed. “So don't get lost, guys, Sachi doesn't have Orcrist yet.”

Amid the laughter that sparked, redoubled when Sachi stuck her tongue out at the guildmaster, Kizmel leaned closer to Kirito. “'Orcrist'?” she whispered.

“Legendary sword, from the same story as Smaug,” he murmured back. “Actually used by a dwarf, though… which the King Under the Mountain might have, actually, so let's try not to find out for sure.”

“Fair enough.” She made a mental note, though, to ask some of the elders of her own people about it sometime. For all that the Swordmasters often seemed ignorant of Aincrad, it was always a pleasant surprise to find things they did mutually recognize. That they at least knew what dwarves were, even if no Swordmaster had ever personally seen one, made her obscurely happy.

Maybe it was just that that was something with which she could connect with Kirito, specifically. She always had liked finding more things she had in common with her partner.

“Anyway!” Keita said loudly, quieting the banter. “It's simple, but that doesn't mean we can let our guards down. It's still a higher-level quest than we've ever tried, and I don't want to have to rely on Kirito and Kizmel too much for it. Also.” His gaze was serious as he swept it over his guild. “They're dwarves, not human, but they're still closer than anything we've ever faced. I don't want anyone slipping up because of that.”

Kizmel found herself nodding again. She was a long-time veteran of the conflicts between her Dark Elves and the Forest Elves, to say nothing of the Fallen, and she knew Kirito had a fair degree of experience fighting them, as well. To the two of them, battling intelligent foes, ones that bore a resemblance to their own peoples, was unpleasant but not something they were likely to shy from when the moment came.

The Black Cats, so far as she knew, had fought only beasts and corpses long since rotted to mere skeletons. Facing dwarves, so like in appearance to humans, might not come so easily to them.

“That said, we should still have something of an advantage, so long as we stay sharp.” Keita brought up his Mystic Scribing—his “menu”, Kizmel remembered—long enough to conjure up several pieces of paper, which he slid over to his guildmates. “Here's the map data for the area we're going to. As long as we keep to the upper levels, and make straight for the cavern marked on here, we'll be fine.”

“I'll second that,” she heard Kirito mutter, as she watched the Black Cats expand their ethereal maps with some envy. “I hope the next quest we do doesn't involve more caves…”

Remembering some of the more notable cave battles they'd fought together—ranging from spiders to wyverns, clear to some very irritating goats—Kizmel couldn't help but chuckle. Not that she disagreed, by any means. Between the tactical concern of having little room to maneuver and the personal concern of caves just being closed in and uncomfortable, they really weren't her favorite environment.

Once the others had finished compiling their maps, Keita brought up his again. “According to Argo-san's information, we'll be going around half a kilometer into the tunnels. Fortunately, they're apparently at least as wide as the dungeon corridors we were in yesterday, so we should have plenty of room to maneuver. Now, the average enemy level is supposed to be around Twenty-Eight; that's a bit higher than our average still, but if we do things right we'll outnumber any group we encounter. Skill and teamwork will make up for the difference.”

Hm… Yes, I think it will work, Kizmel thought, considering the matter. It is a risk, but if you never take a risk, you never gain a victory. And if all else fails, Kirito and I will be more than a match for anything they can't handle.

“One more thing, guys,” Keita said, sounding as serious as she'd ever heard him. “It's very likely that we'll take more damage doing this than we ever have before. I think we can take it, though—and if we're aiming to be clearers, we have to learn to take calculated risks. Right, Kirito?”

Drawn into the conversation for the first time, Kirito looked conflicted, but he nodded anyway. “Most clearers have been in the red one time or another,” he acknowledged. “You have to be able to see that and not panic, if you want to fight on the frontlines. If you actually go into boss fights, anyway; if you're just mapping, you can usually run away from anything you can't beat.”

Usually. Ducker didn't seem subdued by the caveat, but Kizmel was gratified to see the others took it seriously. She was even more gratified, though, to see that Sachi didn't go as pale as she once would have. There was definite tension in her expression, but it wasn't the sheer terror it would've been not so long ago.

“We can handle it,” she said, and if her voice was a little higher pitched than usual, it didn't quaver. “If we keep up the tactics we've been using lately, we can do it.”

“We certainly can.” Keita banished his map with a swipe of his hand, and stood. “So. A bunch of regular Dwarf Bandits, one Bandit Lord, and a cave system. Sachi, you and Tetsuo will be forwards as usual, Sasamaru and I will back you up, and Ducker will look out for traps. Kirito…?”

“Kizmel and I will watch the flanks,” Kirito said at once. “We'll make sure nothing ambushes you. And if things do get bad enough—”

“Don't even say it, Kirito,” Sasamaru interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “You're just along to make Sachi feel better; we won't need the help!” Despite the bravado, though, he added in a more serious tone, “Assuming the information is right, anyway. You said you've never been there yourself, so we've just got this information broker's word…”

“Argo's information is good,” he said firmly. “She makes her living on accurate info. If word got out of her selling false information, it'd kill her. Maybe literally.”

Not an exaggeration, Kizmel feared. So far as she knew, there still hadn't been any reported cases of direct murder between Swordmasters, but he'd once admitted to her that someone had tried to kill him via mobs on the very first day they'd been in Aincrad.

And “reported” is an important word…

“Enough with the doom and gloom, guys,” Keita said, waving a hand as if to physically dispel the incipient dark mood. “Kirito's right—and he has been in the caves for other quests, so he'd know if the info was wrong about the usual enemies. Now, I'd like to get there and back early, just in case we do take a wrong turn or something, so let's get going. The sooner we get this done, the faster we'll level up.”

As the group got up and filed out the door, Kirito held back with Kizmel. “Do you think this really will go as planned?” he whispered.

“It is a simple mission, Kirito,” she replied, just as softly. “The—level gap, I think you'd say?—isn't that great, and they really have been learning quickly. A series of weak foes and one skilled opponent won't be too much for them now. And even if they do reach 'red' status… like you said, everyone does eventually. You're an exception, not the rule.”

Kizmel didn't have the Swordmasters' ability to see the life force of others, or themselves, in tangible form, but she did at least have a vague understanding of it. Just as she knew that Kirito, despite his blanket statement, had never actually been injured to the point of “red”, and that he was, for whatever reason, deathly afraid of others risking it on his watch.

She suspected that last was related to the strange, twisted circ*mstances of the Swordmasters' summoning—though given his skill and attitude otherwise, she couldn't help but believe he was one of the few who'd been somewhat prepared, especially with his status as a “beta tester”—but he'd never explained it, and so far she hadn't wanted to pry.
Especially not after her late-night conversations with Sachi. If Kirito had anything in his past like what Sachi had once suffered, Kizmel had no intention of bringing the memories of it to the fore unnecessarily.

Watching the girl in question now, walking at the front of the guild as they passed out of the tavern and into the midday light, Kizmel marveled at the strength some humans from the Swordmasters' world possessed. Someday, I want to meet more women among the Swordmasters, if only to see if they are all like that. Asuna has gone from completely untrained to the very forefront of battlefield leadership, and if Sachi isn't there yet herself, she is still making remarkable progress.

Is that the norm for their world? Did the spell that brought them here select for those who have strength, even if some need help to see it? Or have I simply been blessed to meet exceptional humans?

“They will be fine, Kirito,” she reiterated quietly, watching light dance from the edges of the buckler Sachi adjusted on her back with unconscious ease. “All we need to do is guide them a little longer, and I think they'll do just fine.”

Chapter 5: Chapter V: Black Cat Dirge

Chapter Text

Chapter V: Black Cat Dirge

Friday, July 28th, 2023

“Just a few more, guys! Just hang in there a little longer!”

Taking an axe blow on her shield, Sachi spared a glance around the cavern to confirm her guildmaster's words. The camp of Dwarf Bandits they'd assaulted had started out with at least fifteen of the half-sized warriors; from the look of it, they'd managed to cut things down to about even over the past twenty minutes.

Very harrowing minutes, as far as Sachi was concerned. After the successful defeat of the first batch of Dwarf Bandits a couple of days before, the Black Cats having come out with less damage than expected, they'd taken on a quest to foil a raiding party the following day—and now, with those victories buoying them, Keita had consented to Ducker and Sasamaru's request for something a little tougher.

I could wish they hadn't been so eager, she thought, lashing out with a Horizontal at the dwarf who'd just tried to lop off her arm. A small patrol, one raiding party out in the open—those were easier than I thought. Actually clearing out a base camp? I didn't think we were ready for this!

Against her expectations, though, it was starting to look like they were actually going to pull it off. Kizmel was barricading the entrance to the cavern now, while Kirito lightly sparred with the pair of Dwarf Bandit Lords at the other end; their assistance had allowed the Black Cats to thin out the mobs on their own.

It was still the most difficult battle they'd fought together. Ducker, with his weak defense and offense alike, had actually been forced to retreat behind Kizmel earlier to drink a potion; just now, Sachi's HP had ticked a little closer to the yellow than she was at all comfortable with. Just blocking that axe had let through some damage, and it was far from the first hit she'd been forced to take on her shield.

Her Horizontal did the trick this time, though, cutting through the dwarf's neck—but just before its HP drained out completely, its death throes slammed the axe blade into her left shoulder. It didn't actually hurt, of course, nothing in SAO did, but the impact made her stumble back and cry out just the same.

“Sachi, pull back and heal!” Keita ordered, stepping in front of her. His staff caught the next dwarf in line at the wrist, forcing its Overhand Skill to crash harmlessly into the rocky floor. “Tetsuo, Sasamaru, let's finish the adds, quick!”

Four Bandits left, Sachi saw, fighting to focus against the tension her own HP status brought. Even as she dropped back toward Kizmel's rear-guard position, fumbling with her shield arm for a potion, she watched her friends try and reduce that number; Tetsuo and Sasamaru were handling one with increasingly-smooth teamwork, while Ducker dashed in to take her place with Keita.

Neither of them were forwards, strictly speaking, but they were gradually reaching the point where they could at least fake it with proper coordination. Keita spun his staff in a blue-edged Tempest, hitting the dwarf six times over the head in quick succession; taking advantage of the Stun effect the skill caused, Ducker darted in and around to deliver a precise Backstab to its spine.

The Stun wore off about the time Keita began the windup for a Hard Jab to the dwarf's throat. Its retaliation was one Sachi didn't immediately recognize, a skill that had it spin completely around and drive the edge of its axe right at the side of Keita's neck. He saw it an instant late, after the System Assist had taken over; the loss of control probably saved his life anyway, pulling him just a little bit out of the intended path of the attack.

It still caught him hard in the flank, sending him stumbling sideways, but it was better than taking the automatic critical that a neck hit would've been.

It didn't get a chance to try anything else. With a yell, Ducker stabbed it in the back again, and while the dwarf was stumbling from that, Sachi came down from the Sonic Leap she'd started the moment her HP had neared blue. Cutting down from its left shoulder to its right hip, this time the strike was enough to shatter the dwarf into polygons without it managing any kind of death blow.

The breaking-glass sound seemed to stutter, and Sachi realized after a moment it was because Tetsuo had killed another at about the same moment. “Nice!” Kirito called, from where he was dancing around the Bandit Lords, somehow keeping aggro from both without seeming to be in much danger himself. “Get the last two, and I'll pass these guys over to you!”

While Keita fell back to heal in turn, Sachi and Ducker took off for one of the remaining Bandits, while Tetsuo and Sasamaru shifted to the other. What level is Kirito at? Sachi wondered along the way, catching a glimpse of the small smile on the clearer's face. Those are elite mobs, and he's just playing around with them. I know the frontline is nine floors above, but still!

Admittedly, on a one-to-one basis, the regular Bandits weren't actually too much trouble even for the Black Cats. Most of the damage they'd taken had been before the room had started clearing; with room to maneuver and nothing trying to flank them, it wasn't too hard to avoid being hit. Even so, when they did hit, it hurt, and these were just the small fry.

Despite that, by the time the last two Bandits had been dropped and the Black Cats converged on the first of the Bandit Lords, Kirito didn't even seem very tired. He just flashed them a grin, waved, and switched to confusing just the one. From Sachi's glance at his HP, he'd taken maybe five percent damage, if that.

“Kirito,” Keita called, dropping back to Sachi's right flank in preparation to Switch, “you can back off a little; we'll take both!”

Sachi wasn't entirely comfortable with that, and from the way Kirito's grin slipped, he wasn't either. It did make some sense, though: against roughly human-sized mobs, trying to engage with more than a couple of players at a time would just have them getting in each other's way.

“Okay,” Kirito said, after only a moment's hesitation. “But I'll stay close enough to interrupt if things get too hairy.”

That was reassuring, at least. Enough so that Sachi only felt very anxious, instead of terrified, when the clearer leapt back out of the way, leaving her front-and-center in the eyes of the first Dwarf Bandit Lord. That the switch from his last blow to her first left it disoriented for a crucial second also helped.

A little, anyway. Seeing the fierce grin behind the Bandit Lord's huge beard directed at her wasn't good for Sachi's nerves, even as she used that tiny moment of computer indecision to land a Vertical Arc on its torso.

Solos are crazy, she thought; her quick pair of hits rocked the Bandit Lord back, but it swung its weapon—a sword, not an axe like the lesser Bandits—toward her with uncomfortable speed, recovering from the hiccup in its targeting algorithms far more quickly than she liked. How did Kirito manage before he met Asuna-san?!

Keita's staff swung up from behind her at the last moment, catching the descending sword and deflecting it into a strike against her breastplate instead of her head. It still shoved her back, stumbling, and for an instant Sachi was convinced the next blow would hit her skull.

Somehow, she got her shield up and around, taking the two-handed Falling Leaf skill on it instead. She had a moment to reflect on how hideously misnamed the skill was—That hits more like a boulder than a leaf!—before being slammed nearly to the floor, dizzy from the impact.

While Sachi tried to clear her head, she thought she heard an oddly high-pitched yelp from the Bandit Lord—Ducker, she thought muzzily, stabbing it somewhere sensitive—followed almost instantly by a cry from Tetsuo. She managed to look up just in time see him sail across the room, crashing into the rock wall with a crunch.

“Stay calm!” Kirito called out. “I know it's tough, but if you stay focused, you'll be fine!”

Easy for him to say—why isn't he helping us?! Even as she thought that, dragging herself back to her feet, Sachi knew the answer, though. …If he does it for us, we'll never learn. What good then?

Automatically, she flung her shield arm up to shove aside the Bandit Lord's next attack, then stepped inside its reach, drew back her arm, and with a shout swung her sword toward its left shoulder. Her blade enveloped in bright blue light, it swung quickly to the left and back to the right in a Snake Bite that inflicted a deep cut with the first blow, and tore the arm completely off with the return.

“Keita, Switch!”

With the Bandit Lord reeling at the loss of its arm, unable to hold its heavy blade properly, Keita was able to slip in and hit it with a Tempest while Sachi recovered. Off-balance already, the repeated assault to its face drove it back several steps.

Then Tetsuo dashed past, heading for the other Bandit Lord, and bashed the wounded one over the head with a normal mace attack on his way by.

The look of dazed frustration on the Bandit Lord's face was, Sachi thought, totally worth it. Right up until it adjusted its remaining hand's grip on its sword, stomped forward, and catapulted her into a wall.

It was a weary but cheerful group that gathered in Taft that evening. Despite everything, the Black Cats had indeed managed to clear out the entire bandit camp, including the two Dwarf Bandit Lords, with only minimal assistance from the duo of clearers. All of them were in the mood to celebrate.

Well, almost everybody, Kirito thought, sneaking a glance past his tankard of ale at the small guild. Sachi, at least, looked sober, which didn't surprise him; she was still the most nervous of the Black Cats, and getting flung across the room had obviously worried her more than Tetsuo. Still, she got most of the credit on that first one, so I'd say congratulations really are in order.

“I think that went well,” Kizmel murmured from beside him. “They suffered greater injury than before, but they didn't let it demoralize them. That's more than can be said for some clearers, in times past.”

“That's true,” he admitted, remembering Illfang; a battle which had, really, gone far better than anyone had had any right to expect, yet had almost collapsed with the loss of one man. “That's more important than levels, a lot of the time. Still, I'm not sure how it would've gone if we hadn't been running interference for them.”

“Give them time, Kirito. This was their first large-scale battle; young knights always require a little help from their instructors at that stage.” The elf's gaze drifted over the lower-leveled players, expression difficult for him to interpret. “Considering how much more serious this is than they were prepared for, I think they're making excellent progress.”

You don't know the half of it. Kizmel still thought that the Swordmasters had all been proper warriors from the start, even if they had believed they'd be effectively immortal in Aincrad. Kirito wondered idly what she'd think if she knew just how utterly unprepared they really had been.

Sooner or later, he was going to have to find out, too. If she really was as advanced an intelligence as he'd come to suspect, someday he was going to have to find a way to tell her truth about the Swordmasters. About the nature of Aincrad itself.

That wasn't a conversation he was looking forward to. Not least because he wasn't sure she could handle it; humans didn't always do so well about having their world view overturned, and none of them had ever had to come to grips with their very reality being a fabrication.

Some people didn't handle just being trapped here very well, Kirito thought with a wince, remembering how the very first death recorded on the Monument of Life had been “Falling in midair”.

“Okay!” Keita called out, interrupting the post-quest celebration and Kirito's own gloomy thoughts. “Today went really well, guys, so I think now we've got a good road map to joining the clearing group. Kirito, Argo-san has quest guides for every floor that's been cleared, right?”

“By the time the labyrinth is reached, she's usually got all the major quests of any floor, yeah,” Kirito agreed, setting down his drink. “After this long, she'll know pretty much everything up to the Thirtieth Floor, at least.”

“Excellent. In that case, I say we work through every significant quest from the Twenty-Third on up, at least everything suitable for a party our size. If we're careful, that should boost our levels pretty fast, and we can save more time by not having to do any of the actual mapping.”

Kirito frowned. That sounded a little bit risky to him. He and Asuna had done as much when clearing those floors originally, of course, even doing some quests that by rights should have taken full parties; but they'd usually been several levels about the floor average, and on several of the early floors they'd had some support from Kizmel.

Keita must've caught his expression, because the guildmaster's own sobered. “I'm aware that it's not the safest course, Kirito, and that we'll be relying on you and Kizmel to keep us from getting in over our heads. But if we do use this strategy, you won't have to hold our hands for more than another month.”

“Yeah,” Tetsuo chimed in, leaning back in his chair with an easy grin. “You've been lifesavers, guys, but we don't want to monopolize you too long. Downright embarrassing, to need babysitting all the time!”

“…It could work,” Sachi said quietly, frowning down at her ale. “If we're really careful… We did pull through today, after all.”

Kirito sat silent for several moments, mentally weighing the pros and cons. If he and Kizmel did continue to provide backup, taking a direct hand every now and then if things got really sticky… That is one way to power-level, he conceded. And if the stakes weren't so high, I'd probably even say it was safe. As it is… Tetsuo's right, we can't just hold their hands forever.

He looked over at Kizmel, who already seemed to have reached her own conclusion. “It's a risk, Kirito,” she said quietly. “But what in war is not?”

True enough. As a solo—well, former solo—he probably knew that better than anyone in the room. And, if he was going to be perfectly honest, a part of him was leaning toward agreement for another, far less noble reason.

“Okay,” Kirito said finally. “With Argo's guides, it should be possible—though there's one or two I might recommend against, not every single-party quest is as easy as it looks on paper—and yeah, it should be a good way to grind up to clearer levels.”

“Another step up to the big leagues!” Sasamaru said with a grin, and lifted his tankard. “To victory, guys!”

“Victory!”

Raising his tankard with the others, Kirito only wished he was agreeing out of pure conviction, unalloyed by his ignoble fear of the responsibility they'd placed on his shoulders, and the knowledge that the sooner they leveled up, the sooner that fear might be lifted.

Friday, September 1st, 2023

It had been a little over a month since the Black Cats began their concerted effort at ascending Aincrad's floors, a few quests at a time. Over the course of it, Kizmel had been through three Pillar Guardian battles, and had had the privilege of watching the small guild grow rapidly in strength from their humble beginnings. Their “levels” were still well below the clearing group, but they'd come a long way from the ambush she and Kirito had rescued them from almost two months before.

They'd moved their sleeping arrangements up several floors along the way, and now spent most evenings in what Kirito termed a “Bed and Breakfast” on the Eighteenth Floor, in the town of Corineth. On this particular night, they were all together in the inn's dining room, planning the next day's excursion.

After they'd all eaten, Keita rested his elbows on the table and leaned forward, a serious look on his face. “Great work today, guys,” he began. “I think that marks just about the first time we got through without Kirito or Kizmel having to step in at all.”

“Hey, we couldn't stay noobs forever, Keita,” Tetsuo pointed out, grinning. “Get tossed around enough, and even Ducker learns to dodge!”

“Hey!”

Kizmel nodded to herself, smiling a little at the banter. That day they'd gone into a forest in search of some rare herbs a human healer had requested, and stirred up a nest of Giant Hornets in the process. Despite the sheer number of swarming insects, though, the Black Cats had pulled through without their clearer backup so much as having to draw their swords.

It's more than just individual strength. They've finally truly begun to fight as a proper team, keeping each other's strengths and weaknesses in mind. …I'm not sure that she would agree even now, but I believe Keita truly did make the right choice in pushing Sachi to take up the sword. That change in their strategy is exactly what they needed for balance.

Keita rapped the table sharply. “I think we're making good progress, everyone,” he said, when he had his guildmates' attention again. “To be perfectly honest, I'd hoped to be farther along this by now, but having seen firsthand what the higher floors are like, I'll admit that was a bit over-optimistic. By any reasonable measure, I think we've done better than we could've expected, really.

“We've also saved up quite a bit of Cor over the last month and a half. So I was thinking… now that we're getting close to the frontlines, this might be a good time to finally buy a guildhouse.”

Sachi perked up at that. “A place of our own,” she said, sounding wistful. “We haven't had that since…”

“Since we got into this whole mess,” Sasamaru finished for her, looking thoughtful. “Y'know, Keita, that's not such a bad idea. It'd be kinda nice to have a place we could really call home.”

“Not to mention save us a bunch of Cor on inn rooms,” Ducker said, flashing a grin.

“Nothing like having your own place to hang your hat,” said Tetsuo, nodding. “And your armor, your mace, your Man-Eating Tiger pelts…”

Kizmel found herself smiling faintly at that. The Black Cat macer couldn't have known, but it reminded her of the days when she'd first fought with Kirito and Asuna—or rather, the nights. At the time, she'd been living in a simple tent in a forward camp, and it had been carpeted with fur pelts. A comfort that had at first been a cold one to her, for a time; with the losses the camp had suffered, it had been empty and lonely.

Until Kirito and Asuna had entered the war between Dark and Forest, and brought warmth back into Kizmel's life with them.

Leaning over toward her theretofore silent partner, she murmured, “Sounds like old times, hm?”

Kirito blushed faintly, and she stifled a chuckle. While she knew he had enjoyed their early partnership as much as she had, she had little doubt some of his memories were not quite so unalloyed. Certainly she hadn't missed him gawking at her, when first he saw her unarmored—nor Asuna's response.

It was barely a week that we shared that tent, yet I think those were some of the best days of my life. …I hope we can share a place like that again someday.

“Anyway,” Keita was continuing, having seen the unanimity of his guildmates, “I was figuring we might take care of that the day after tomorrow. Take one day off from grinding to settle into a new place, catch our breath, that kind of thing.” Lifting one hand, he swiped his menu open, made several quick motions across it, and materialized a piece of parchment. “I'd just like to take care of one more quest tomorrow, first. Judging from the information from Argo-san, this one should provide enough experience to get us all one more level.”

It was Kirito's turn to lean forward, looking interested. “What quest is that, Keita? Something on the Twenty-Eighth Floor?” That was the floor they'd just finished gathering herbs and slaying wasps on; if Kizmel remembered correctly, they'd cleared approximately half of the predicted tasks there.

She still wondered just how it was Argo acquired such detailed information. Most Swordmasters of the clearing group focused on the frontline, yet Argo was obviously keeping up with the plight of humans on lower floors, if she had such a wealth of knowledge about quests that had come up since the clearers originally passed through.

“Argo-san's latest guide labels it as 'Exterminate the Black Forest Invaders',” Keita said, waving the parchment. “Giran Village, off in the southwest of the floor, is having problems with demi-humans hunting anyone wandering into that forest, occasionally venturing out at night to attack the village itself.”

Kirito frowned. “…Huh. I don't remember hearing about that one… though it's true I usually only focus on the ones Kizmel and I can handle by ourselves.”

“Well, according to this, it shouldn't be too hard for a full party.” The guildmaster tapped the guide. “There's supposed to be a lot of them, but individually pretty weak, and traveling in small packs. A bit longer to get them all than most quests we've done, I think, but it's just a matter of endurance, not any real trouble.”

Kizmel found herself nodding. She wasn't quite comfortable with Kirito's lack of knowledge on the subject—or her own, for that matter—but it was obviously something that had come up since the two of them had passed through originally. They were hardly going to find out every problem that cropped up in their wake, certainly.

And demi-humans should not be much of a threat, indeed. The twisted offspring of humans and goblins, if I remember the tales right, and not one that especially benefits from the breeding. A team of Swordmasters should have little trouble putting them down.

“The one trick is to not get lost,” Keita went on. “The Black Forest is supposed to be pretty confusing.” Despite his words, he was smiling. “Of course, thanks to Argo-san, we just happen to have a map, so…”

That night, Kizmel found herself on the balcony attached to their inn room, leaning on the railing beside Kirito; she'd removed her cape and armor, leaving her tights and tunic, while he'd put away his habitual black coat. Sachi had not yet arrived—though she continued her habit of sleeping with them, she'd been staying out later than she once had, lately—so for now, it was just the two of them.

Just like before, the elf mused, looking out over the dark streets of Corineth. …I don't really mind that, somehow.

“A guildhall, huh,” Kirito said quietly. “They really have come pretty far, haven't they? Pretty impressive for a group of low-levels hanging out in a cheap inn on the Eleventh Floor, like when we first met them.”

“It is.” She glanced at him sidelong. “I would say they've earned a place for themselves; a small guild they may be, but in some ways they seem more a team than many clearers we've known.”

“Yeah, that's for sure. Better than the DDA or the Army, no contest; I bet their guildhall will be a lot more comfortable, too.” There was a distant look on his face now, she noticed, like he was seeing something other than the town below them.

Kizmel thought she had an inkling of why, after traveling with the human Swordmaster this long. It was a pang she'd felt, just a little, more than once over the past months, and before they ever met; Kirito, she suspected, felt it far more keenly than she ever did.

I could return to the capital any time I wished, at least for a short visit. Kirito's separation is far more profound…

After a few moments, she said, “Have you ever considered buying a home for yourself, Kirito? A place you can truly call your own, here in Aincrad?”

Kirito shrugged. “…I've thought about it once or twice,” he admitted slowly. “Asuna brought it up, back when we were in Rovia on the Fourth Floor; that whole floor is just too hard to get around for me to want to stay there, though. Since then… I guess I've just been focused on moving forward. I've saved most of my Cor for keeping my gear and supplies up, and inns aren't really that expensive.”

“I suppose that's a practical approach.” Kizmel turned her gaze back to Corineth, looking over the human architecture that she'd grown used to in the months she'd traveled with Kirito. “Still… by now, you've saved up a considerable amount of money; far more than our usual expenses, certainly. It might be something to consider—perhaps when the Black Cats no longer need our guidance?”

Her partner was silent for a while, perhaps thinking much the same things she was. In a way, it would be a relief to finish their task; Kizmel did wish she could spend more time on the frontline, speeding the conquest of the Pillars, testing her blade against stronger foes… Not having to worry about warriors-in-training behind her, able to trust that those by her side could handle themselves as well as she.

In another sense, she suspected she'd miss it. If nothing else, the cheerful camaraderie and banter of the Black Cats was warm and comfortable, even if they never quite seemed to extend it to her the way Kirito and Asuna did. Having a place where she and Kirito could gather with their friends—Asuna, when she had time; even Argo, with her too-cheerful playfulness—was something she thought might capture some of that feeling for themselves.

“It's something to think about,” Kirito said finally. “I guess… it might be nice, at that.” He turned to face her fully. “What about you, Kizmel? You've got a place back in Lyusula, and without Mystic Scribing, you still can't trade properly with human merchants.”

“As you once told me, there's surely still a way to fulfill the ancient treaties, Kirito,” she said, serenely confident. “We need only find it. And really, is there anything we've yet failed to do, together?” Kizmel smiled, and edged just a little closer to her partner. “As I believe Asuna has said in the past, we do make a good team.”

She thought she heard him mutter something about not understanding why he had so many girls hanging around him these days, and her smile widened. There's something endearing about the way you fail to see your own strengths, my friend—I only hope I'm present to see the look on your face when you finally understand it.

Saturday, September 2nd, 2023

The trek through the Black Forest wasn't the worst Kirito had endured in Aincrad. For one thing, the map actually worked, which was more than could be said for the Forest of Wavering Mists in which he'd originally met Kizmel, and it didn't have the humidity or tenacious insect life of the Seventh Floor's jungles. There were, as expected, demi-humans aplenty, but they weren't much of a threat even to the Black Cats, let alone a couple of clearers.

Even so, something was bothering him about the whole thing. He knew it was silly, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right.

“All right,” Keita called at length, from his position at the front of the group. “From Argo-san's info and what the Village Chief told us, that should be the last of the demi-humans in the Black Forest itself. That should just leave… Ah, here it is.”

“It” was a clearing deep in the Black Forest, in the center of which was an obsidian tower reaching toward the underside of the Twenty-Ninth Floor. Not quite as tall as the labyrinth that actually connected the two floors, nor as wide, it still stood a good fifty meters.

That's probably what has the hairs on my neck standing up, too, Kirito thought, looking up at the tower uneasily. Kizmel and I never went near this place when the clearing group came through; I don't think this quest even existed back then.

It was probably just Cardinal and its random quest generator at work; it certainly wouldn't be the oddest quest Kirito had seen in Aincrad. Most likely, it was just the same uneasiness about changed scenarios that had been bothering him ever since Diavel died.

Or maybe it was the Village Chief's ominous warning that they might want more friends if they were to assail the tower. Of course, Keita had brushed it off, pointing out—reasonably, really—that Argo's guide had indicated it was pure flavor text, a caution only for less-prepared parties; after all, most level-appropriate parties wouldn't be aided by a pair of clearers whose stats and gear were from several floors up.

It was probably just the uncertainty that was getting to him. It wasn't like he was psychic, after all.

“The quest finishes in there, Keita?” Sachi asked, looking more than a little uncomfortable herself.

“According to the guide, yeah. The Demi-Human Commander should be at the top of that tower.” Keita waved a reassuring hand. “Relax! I know it's half as tall as a Floor Labyrinth, but it's not nearly as big around; clearing out this place shouldn't take more than an hour or so.”

“Then let's get to it, Keita!” Ducker called, grinning and bouncing in place. “Think of all the loot that must be in there, too!”

Trust the self-proclaimed thief to focus on that. Kirito couldn't really disagree, though; his gamer's soul was calling out to him to find out what treasures and secrets lay within. The part of him that had even grown to love Aincrad's lore since meeting Kizmel seconded it, seeing in the tower's ominous construction hints of deeper knowledge.

It's a quest seven floors below the frontline, he reminded himself. Whatever is in there, we can handle it. Still…

Just before Keita moved forward to open the heavy stone door at the base of the tower, Kirito raised a hand. “Before we go in, Keita, I just want to confirm: everybody has at least one teleport crystal, right?” The items were expensive, being moderately uncommon and capable of teleporting a player back to a town even from the middle of a Floor Boss fight, but obtaining a small supply had been one of his conditions for helping train the Black Cats.

In the game of death Aincrad had become, there was no shame in retreating if the situation turned against you. Every clearer knew one truth: in this world, survival was everything.

A couple of the Black Cats, notably Ducker, rolled their eyes, but Keita simply nodded, a sober look in his eyes. “It'll be fine, Kirito. I doubt we'll have any serious problems in there, but if we do, we'll be ready.”

After this long, Kirito believed him. The Black Cats were still a little over-eager for his peace of mind, but in a fight, they'd shaped up into a serious team. When blades were drawn, they took no chances.

“Is everyone ready?” the guildmaster said then, when Kirito raised no further objection. “Then let's go finish this.”

Pulling open the massive door, Keita led the Black Cats into the night-black tower.

Prowling the stone corridors of the tower as the rear guard, Kirito's sense of unease grew the higher they climbed. Five floors up, and the Black Cats had shredded twice that many groups of demi-humans, while he and Kizmel had hammered down an ambush per floor themselves. So far, nothing had happened to particularly challenge the group.

So why am I still feeling like we're walking into a lion's den? I can't shake the sense that something about this place is…

“Kirito,” Kizmel murmured to him, too low for the Black Cats to hear. “I'm not sure why, but… something about this tower feels familiar. As if I have seen something like this before.”

“You, too?” Even with the chill of the unknown eating at him, Kirito felt just a bit relieved that he wasn't the only one getting a sense of déjà vu. If his partner sensed it, too, then… Well. Maybe that wasn't such a good sign. “I don't know what it is, either, but I'm sure I've been somewhere like this before. The art, maybe?”

There were bas-relief sculptures on the walls in places. He hadn't had time to examine them in detail, and at a distance the sheer blackness of the obsidian walls obscured them, but every so often light from the torches illuminating the tower struck them just the right way to make them almost fully visible.

Aincrad had a lot of different styles of architecture and art across its floors, and with a full one hundred levels, it wouldn't be surprising if things were occasionally repeated. That was probably all there was to it.

“Hey, I think this is it, guys!” Tetsuo was leading then, Keita having fallen back a few paces to use a healing potion after the last demi-human group, and now he had stopped in front of a set of double-doors at the very end of the hallway. “Five floors up, with these really high ceilings… we should be about at the top, right? These doors look fancy enough for a 'Commander' to be on the other side.”

Kirito pushed forward with Kizmel, gambling for now that the rear would be secure for awhile. Looking close at the doors, he couldn't disagree with Tetsuo's assessment; actually, he had the foreboding thought that the macer might actually be understating things a little.

“…These do look like boss doors,” he said slowly, unease edging toward outright anxiety. “Keita… I'm not sure we should do this.” He peered more intently at the point where the doors joined, certain that there was something significant about the design emblazoned on them; in this light, though, he just couldn't tell. “Something… doesn't feel right.”

“Oh, c'mon, Kirito,” Sasamaru said, shaking his head. “We got the info from Argo, and this ain't like the beta test. This is fresh information. A Demi-Human Commander and some adds. So what if the door's scary-looking?”

“I don't know, Sasamaru.” Sachi bit her lip, hand tightening on the hilt of her sword. “If Kirito thinks we should be careful…”

“Ominous door, awesome treasure,” Ducker reasoned, tapping his foot impatiently. “Look, we haven't run into anything that bad yet, so let's just get going!”

Tetsuo was nodding, so Kirito turned to Keita, hoping for a tie-breaker from the usually cautious guildmaster. The staff wielder, though, wasn't looking very concerned himself. After a moment's thought, he only shrugged and said, “Ducker's… enthusiasm aside, Kirito, he's right that we haven't had much trouble yet. Like Sasamaru said, everything's been like the guide so far. And if anything does go wrong, we've got the crystals. I think we can risk it.”

By everything Kirito knew about SAO, even after everything that had changed since the beta, Keita was right. By all his experience with Argo and her information gathering, Keita was right. Anything they were likely to encounter, they could handle; anything unlikely, they could escape.

He shot a glance at Kizmel, who gave him a not-too-happy look in return. Even so, she shrugged. “We appear to be out-voted,” she said simply.

Yeah. I guess so. Sighing, Kirito stepped back, letting Keita take his place at the front of the group again. Together with Tetsuo, the two Black Cats pushed at the doors, scarcely less thick than those leading into the tower in the first place, and opened the way to the final chamber of the tower.

They all walked into the new room, weapons at the ready, and at first saw… nothing. Nothing but a wide, circular chamber, seemingly empty; only a handful of the torches lining the walls were lit, and the far end of the room was cloaked in the darkness.

As far as Kirito could tell, nothing was making a sound, either. As far as his eyes could see, ears could hear, there was nothing in the room at all. We can't see the other side, though. Anything could be…

“Huh,” Ducker said, bringing up the rear. He looked around curiously, scratching his head with the hand not holding a knife. “This, uh… is kind of a let down, actually.”

BOOM.

Kirito spun around just in time to see the heavy doors slam shut behind the thief—then, almost as fast, whirled to face front again as the remaining torches spontaneously lit themselves. The ring of lights swung around to meet in the middle of the far wall, and what had been concealed was suddenly starkly visible.

A dozen figures in black armor, wearing face-concealing helmets, bearing wicked-looking scimitars in hand. Just behind them, wearing a fancier version of the same armor, a tall figure whose face was hidden by a black-horned mask. The figure's eyes seemed to gleam red behind the mask, and in his hand was a one-handed sword that glowed a vibrant blue.

The adds' cursors, when Kirito focused on them, were a red a few shades darker than the demi-humans the Black Cats had fought through to get here. Their leader's was darker still; to the Black Cats, it would almost certainly be close to black.

The name that appeared when Kirito looked at him, heart pounding in his chest: Fallen Elven Remnant: The Commandant.

From the collective intake of breath behind him, he knew the Black Cats recognized the significance of the “The” just as well as he did.

“W-what the hell is a boss doing here?!” Ducker squeaked, bravado long gone.

Fallen Elf. That artwork… dammit! Why didn't I remember?! If the walls hadn't been pitch-black, Kirito was sure he would've realized it in a heartbeat: remembered the look of the Fallen Elf Twilight Citadel he, Asuna, and Kizmel had stormed at the end of the Elf War Quest, a brutal assault that had come terrifyingly close to killing Kizmel. He would've realized that the very layout of the tower was similar to that place, an oversight he could only attribute to how very, very busy he'd been that day.

He had never expected to face the Fallen Elves again. Now he was face-to-face with what he could only assume was a Field Boss, and while his own level far outstripped it, he was backed only by one clearer, and a single party of relative newbies.

“Run,” Kirito heard himself saying, staring at The Commandant; who had, curiously, not yet made a move to attack. “Everyone, get out, right now.”

“The doors won't open!” Sachi called, voice shrill with growing panic. “They're locked!”

“Then teleport!” he snapped. “Hurry!”

Ducker quickly dug for the crystal in his belt pouch, held it aloft, and shouted, “Teleport: Corineth!”

Kirito expected to immediately see a bright blue flash in his peripheral vision, hear the distinctive sound of his comrade teleporting to safety. He'd follow soon, along with Kizmel, but only once they were sure everyone else had escaped—

“The crystals aren't working!”

His blood ran cold. A trap. It's a trap, and even crystals aren't working… this has never happened before, not even on the Twenty-Fifth Floor! What the hell—?!

Only then, when the Black Cats knew there was no escape, did The Commandant make a move. “Puny humans, and one Dark Elf,” he said, the grin that his mask hid evident in his voice. “You destroyed my people… now, it is your turn to die. My brothers… kill them all!”

Everything narrowed to the sword in The Commandant's hand, the sword in his own hand, and Kirito charged, screaming a battle cry.

Kirito's solo attack on The Commandant flew in the face of the careful coordination he and Kizmel had been teaching the Black Cats the last couple of months, but she knew at once why he'd done it. With thirteen strong Fallen Elves arrayed against them, they were outnumbered two-to-one, and Kirito was the only one who stood a chance of holding off The Commandant alone.

Against just one, perhaps as many as three, of the Fallen Elf Knights, Kizmel thought that might just have been enough to buy the Black Cats and herself time to even the odds. Against twelve, she felt a terror she'd not known in months. She herself could take any one of them herself, she was certain, but she was just as sickeningly sure that wouldn't be enough.

Even so, she did the only thing she could: she lunged for the nearest Fallen, Corrupted Sword of the Order glowing deep red in a Fell Crescent. The Fallen Knight met her halfway, laughing as he came, and their blades met in a concussion of sound and burst of light.

At the same time, the other Knights joined their Commandant in motion, and the room descended into total chaos.

It was a mad, terrifying whirlwind of battle that Kizmel hadn't seen since the ambush that killed her sister. Kirito's Sonic Leap managed to stop The Commandant in his tracks, while she locked blades with the first of the Knights—but the Black Cats had never anticipated a trap like this. The shock of their escape being cut off, and the strength of their opponents that their Mystic Scribing allowed them to see more clearly than she could, shook the teamwork they'd trained so hard to learn.

They fought anyway, with no way out. Kizmel caught a brief glimpse of Sachi huddled by the doors, shaking in terror, but the others met the Fallen with weapons in hand. Keita and Sasamaru managed to beat back several themselves, for a few previous moments, with the spinning Tempest and Hurricane skills of their respective pole weapons; Tetsuo desperately dodged to one side of a scimitar thrust and smashed the offending Fallen's breastplate with his mace, while Ducker hurled himself screaming on another, driving his dagger for an unprotected throat.

Clashing with her own foe, Kizmel could see little else after that. Her opening Fell Crescent had been canceled, but it had done the job of getting her into reach. Her own speed was marginally greater than the Fallen Knight's; she recovered a breath faster than he did, took the extra moment to slam her kite shield into his faceplate, and followed up with a Treble Scythe that spun her around to deliver three whirling slashes to his chest.

The Fallen was driven further off-balance, stumbling back from the impacts. The last knocked him off his feet completely, and by the time he could even try to regain himself, the charm's backlash had released her. In that moment, she reversed her saber in her hands, leapt high in the air, and drove its point through the Fallen's armor and straight into his heart.

On an individual basis, Kizmel realized, the Knights were no match for her whatsoever. If they could just keep this up—a bellowing Kirito went past the corner of her eye just then, furiously trading blows with The Commandant—they could still survive. Recovering her blade from the shattered body of her first foe, she turned to engage the next—

A terrified scream, the likes of which she had never heard before and would never forget now, reached her ears, and she whipped around just in time to see Ducker fall away from a Fallen's scimitar, breaking into countless azure shards before he ever hit the floor.

“Ducker!” Sasamaru screamed. Breaking away from the Fallen who was trying to gut him, he charged at Ducker's killer, heedless of his own safety, and put all his terror, rage, and momentum into a Straight Thrust aimed for the elf's helmet. His spear, by luck or skill, stabbed right through one of the eyeholes; the Fallen tried for a moment to bring his scimitar up, then fell limp and shattered, following his victim into death.

Blinded by grief and fury, the lancer didn't see the next Knight coming. Only a bare instant before the Fallen's sword could pierce Sasamaru's chest did he look up, eyes going wide with terror—and then the Fallen's head was leaping from his shoulders, severed by Kizmel's desperate two-handed blow.

Three of twelve Fallen Elf Knights dead, along with one of the Black Cats. Kirito was, somehow, managing to keep The Commandant busy all by himself, countering every skill the general attempted with one of his own, yet it was at best a stalemate. And the remaining Knights were splitting up, separating into groups of three in an obvious attempt to overwhelm the survivors.

Kizmel's heart was racing, torn between grief and fear of her own. Even so, she pushed all that aside, and went for the first of the trio cornering her and Sasamaru with a Reaver to the gut. All she could do was fight the foes directly before her, and hope that Keita could hold out—and that Sachi would, somehow, recover enough of her wits to run. So far she was being ignored, Tetsuo was still whaling away with his mace, there was still a chance…

A pained grunt surprised her as she was in the act of putting a Linear through the throat of her third opponent, having found they were as weak as anyone else to blows that threatened the head. She took one brief moment to look, and her heart clenched at the sight of Kirito flying back; he'd misjudged an attack from The Commandant, and though his armor and physique were more than up to the challenge, his balance was not.

The only bright spot was that he ended up using one of the Knights threatening Keita as a cushion, forcing the elf to the floor just in time to buy the guildmaster a few precious moments of breathing space.

Kizmel didn't see what happened after that. The companions of the Fallen she'd just finished closed on her together, and for several moments she was too busy fighting off their blades to make out anything else.

The next thing she did register was a blood-curdling shriek, followed by an all-too-familiar sound like shattering glass. The realization that Tetsuo, now, had fallen distracted her, and it was her turn to be caught unawares and thrown from her feet.

The impact disoriented her, and for the space of a few breaths—an eternity in battle—Kizmel wasn't sure what was going on. When she came back to her senses, though, the next couple of moments did feel endless. The two Knights who had been attacking her had turned to Sasamaru, joined by the two survivors of Tetsuo's murder. The lancer was almost surrounded, with nowhere to go but backward, and Kizmel could tell from the red marks on his body that he was sorely wounded.

At the same time, The Commandant had turned his attention to Kizmel, and his sword was beginning to gleam as he prepared a Sword Skill. She knew she had something of an advantage in strength, but she'd been wounded some herself fighting the Knights—and if he was any kind of swordsman at all, he would do the same as she had, and try for her neck.

Keita was too far to help either of them. He'd, somehow, managed to kill one of his attackers, but was sorely pressed by the remaining pair. Sachi was nowhere in sight, apparently safe but in no shape to help.

In that endless moment, Kizmel saw that Kirito had regained his feet, and was readying himself to help. At the same time, she could see the horrified realization in his eyes: that there was time enough to help one or the other of them, but not both.

He had to make a choice, between his own kind, and her.

Four blades thrust at Sasamaru, moving with painful sloth to her eyes. The Commandant's gleaming sword began to fall, an executioner's stroke coming to take her head.
Kirito flung himself forward, and time snapped back to normal.

A split second before The Commandant's blow could land, Kizmel's vision was obscured by black. Strong arms wrapped around her, and she was suddenly rolling across the stone floor, out of reach of the sword that struck obsidian instead of flesh. Those same arms pulled her to her feet at the end of the tumble; she found herself standing beside Kirito, their swords both pointed toward The Commandant.

Alive. She was still alive…

One more scream, and Keita's anguished howl, heralded another sound of a shattering body, and she knew Sasamaru no longer was.

Kizmel wanted to weep. No more than three minutes had passed since entering this death trap, and three of the Black Cats were gone. Fully half of the Fallen Elf Knights had joined them in death, but that was scarcely any consolation.

Especially since Keita had finally lost his own battle with despair, and dropped to his knees, staff falling from his hands. Two Knights still stood before him, waiting for that moment, and four stood between him and the clearers, to say nothing of The Commandant himself.

Kizmel was alive. It didn't look like that mercy was going to be granted to her comrades—her friends.

She and Kirito attacked anyway, throwing themselves at The Commandant with twin battle cries. They battered him back, Kizmel with a Reaver to the stomach, Kirito a Horizontal Arc across the chestplate, and The Commandant did stumble—but it wasn't enough, and she knew it.

Then another scream, this one of denial, echoed off the walls, and a blur of blue and white charged Keita's assailants. A brilliant Sonic Leap knocked one Fallen Knight clear off his feet, and before the second could fully shift his attention away from Keita, a sword traced three slashes like a numeral four across his backplate.

A Savage Fulcrum, Kizmel realized. That's—

A half-sob, half-scream tore from Sachi's throat again, and she followed up with the forehand, spinning backhand, and second forehand of a Sharp Nail that flung the Fallen at the wall. He shattered into fragments before he ever reached it; his companion regained his feet then, but Sachi took his furious Slant on her shield and didn't even flinch. She simply waited the breath for the backlash of her last attack to fully release her, and tore into the Knight with screaming fury.

Her techniques, higher-level than any she'd demonstrated in training with her guildmates, showed none of the hesitation that had always been there before. Sachi was gripped by rage and grief, but her movements were smooth, precise—and powerful.

But she can't do it alone, Kizmel thought grimly. “Kirito, I leave this to you!” she called. Even as her partner nodded, she pulled back from The Commandant and lunged for the first of the four Fallen Knights that remained between her and Sachi.

Between the two of us, however…

A chaotic swirl of blades, unlike anything Kizmel had known since the assault that finally toppled the Fallen Elves' war effort. It began as four on one, but Kizmel didn't care; even when Fallen scimitars got past her guard and inflicted shallow cuts, she ignored the defense completely, intent only on destroying her foes.

Here, a Sword Skill. There, a blow powered only by her own strength, lacking the overwhelming force or speed of the charmed techniques but also not hindered by their recovery time. She buried steel in the chest of the first of the quartet, kicked his shattering body away contemptuously, and lopped the arm off the next in one smooth motion.

She would kill them, for what they'd done today. Not one Fallen Elf would she allow to leave this obsidian fortress alive.

Two Kizmel cut down, then a third; then the last staggered as he was struck from behind. Sachi had finished the last threatening Keita, and assaulted the only survivor; with her new-found skill and confidence, Kizmel left it in the young girl's hands, and turned back to The Commandant.

Somehow, impossibly, Kirito must've been keeping track, because as he finished the Vertical Arc he'd just carved into the masked swordsman he shouted, “Switch!”

She was there in an instant, driving The Commandant back with heavy slash across the chest. His impossibly durable armor held, though, and he struck a Horizontal against her in turn—and then Kirito was slamming a boot into his chin in a Crescent Moon.

The Commandant was strong, but he was only one swordsman, of a stature much like Kirito and Kizmel. And strong as he was, he was weaker than the foes they had encountered on higher floors; he simply could not match the strength they'd built up against those opponents, and his sword was sorely hampered by their armor.

For a short time, they battered The Commandant, timing their skills to cover each other's moments of weakness, and at length Kirito gasped out, “Just—a little—more—!”

At that moment, The Commandant abruptly pulled back, just a little, and wrenched his sword around in a complete, azure-edged circle. A Serration Wave, Kizmel realized—not enough to do more than scratch warriors such as they, but its real purpose was the wave of air pressure that forced them both back.

Maybe it was meant to give The Commandant another chance at taking their heads. Perhaps he intended to take the brief opening to try and slay Keita, a last spiteful revenge before his inevitable death. Kizmel would never know, because the gap created by the Serration Wave was filled by a speeding figure, sword glowing blue. A Sonic Leap came down and carved into The Commandant's shoulder, staggering him again.

Before he could recover, Kirito's left hand flew forward, glowing in the simple Embracer skill. Flattened into a knife edge, it struck with enough force to finally shatter The Commandant's armor, sending him stumbling still further.

Into that last opening, Sachi lunged forward, shouted wordlessly, and snapped her sword to one side and back in a perfect Snake Bite. A blow that could've shattered a sword bit twice into The Commandant's neck, and his head flew free; it and the rest of his body dropped to the floor, twitched, and broke into a thousand tumbling, glittering shards.

Silence fell.

There was a huge [Congratulations!] notice hanging in the air now, confirming that The Commandant and his subordinates had indeed been considered a boss fight. Kirito only barely noticed. He felt numb, empty in a way even the battle with The Adamantine Arachnid hadn't left him.

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They'd come so far, accomplished so much; now, nothing remained to mark the efforts of three players who had tried so hard. Aincrad's nature meant not even bodies remained to mark their passing.

This wasn't even like a floor boss, Kirito thought, sword slipping unnoticed from his fingers. Everybody goes into those knowing what the risks are, being ready for them. This… this was…

He could hear ragged breathing not far away. Sachi, the one he'd been most frightened for, had pulled herself together at the last moment; now, having gotten the Last Attack on The Commandant, she'd fallen to her knees, seeming oblivious to her surroundings. Kizmel, he noticed distantly, had gone silently to her side.

Kirito was never sure how long that silence lasted, disturbed only by Sachi's heavy breath. He only knew that, at length, there was a scraping sound of boots on stone, and then, “Why?!”

Against his will, he turned to see Keita standing up, eyes red and watery as SAO faithfully expressed his anguish. The guildmaster was trembling, hands curled into fists, and his hard stare demanded answers. Answers that Kirito didn't have, couldn't give him, no matter how badly he wanted to.

Keita's face darkened further at Kirito's silence, and he took a slow step forward. “Answer me, dammit! What the hell happened here?! This isn't what the guide said it was going to be! There wasn't supposed to be a damned boss here! You… you told me the Rat's information was always good, so what the hell happened?!”

Kirito couldn't meet his gaze. “…I don't know,” he whispered, knowing even as he spoke that it wasn't close to an acceptable answer.

“Like hell you don't!” Keita took another step, face flushing red with fury and grief. “That… that thing knew you! It killed my friends to get back at you! Is… is that why you did this? Did you know about this, and trick us into coming here as… as cannon fodder?!”

There was no point, Kirito thought dully, in pointing out that he'd tried to get them to put more stock in the Village Chief's warning. After all, even he hadn't worried enough to really push the issue, had he?

“That's… that's not true,” he got out, even knowing it would fall on deaf ears.

“Liar! You and the Rat… you really are Beaters! If you weren't—if you weren't, Sasamaru, at least, wouldn't be dead!” Keita gestured angrily at Kizmel, who still hadn't said a word. “If you really gave a damn about anyone but yourself, you wouldn't have picked a damned NPC over a player!”

Kirito flinched. There was absolutely nothing he could say to that, and he knew it. He'd been too far from Ducker and Tetsuo, too busy trying to make sure The Commandant didn't just overwhelm them all—but he had had a choice when Sasamaru was attacked that last time. It was a choice he hadn't even thought about at the time. In that instant, it had been his reflex to save Kizmel—save his partner.

“You bastard,” Keita spat, when Kirito said nothing. One more step, and he was right in the Black Swordsman's face. “You selfish, miserable…” Words seemed to fail him then, and the next thing Kirito heard was the sound of Keita's fist impacting on his own jaw.

Being in the same party kept the blow from doing any actual damage—keeping Keita's cursor from going orange from the attack—but it still dropped him to the floor. From the look on Keita's face, the Black Cat didn't consider that enough; for a second, Kirito thought the other player would actually go for his weapon to finish the job.

“You should've been the one to die,” Keita said, voice dropping to an anguished whisper. “You led us here, you let Sasamaru die for that thing—”

Kirito could voice no denial. To his surprise, though, someone else did. “She's his friend!” Sachi yelled, suddenly on her feet. “Of course he picked her!”

Keita stared at her, incredulous. “His friend?” he repeated, visibly shocked. “Sachi—she's not even real! None of this is real! The only kind of person who'd pick a program over a human is some crazy beta who either lost his mind or wanted all the loot—”

Two long strides, and this time it was Sachi's fist meeting Keita's face. “It's real enough to kill us,” she said, tears running down her face. “It wasn't Kirito who brought us here, Keita—we brought them along. All along… all along, he and Kizmel have tried to tell us not to get ahead of ourselves, but we kept pushing!”

It took Keita a second to find his voice, stunned as he was. “We… dammit, Sachi, this is why we were trying! Because we thought we could make a difference! If we'd known that this bastard was just like the rest of the Beaters—”

“Stop saying that!” Sachi glared at him through her tears. “Beaters?! Keita, I was in the beta test, too!”

“Wha…?”

“I didn't say anything… I felt guilty that I got in and you guys didn't, and then when we all got the full version, I didn't think it mattered anymore. But I did. I wasn't very good at it,” she continued bitterly, “but I was there. I got far enough to know Kirito's been telling the truth about how much things changed. I know—because I thought things were the same, and my friend died because of it.”

Kirito drew in a sharp breath. Suddenly, a few things that had puzzled him made sense. How Sachi seemed to know just that much more about how to fight than her friends—and why she always seemed so much more cautious than even Keita.

“You remember Sumika, don't you?” Sachi continued, swallowing hard. “She and I went on quests together while the rest of you were still hiding in the first town, using what I remembered from the beta to get by. Except… except we finally ran into something that wasn't the same, and Sumika died.” She wiped at her eyes, which were redder even than Keita's now. “So I know what the 'Beaters' have really been facing, Keita. Maybe some of them are that bad—but Argo and Kirito aren't.”

Keita stared at her for a long moment. The fight seemed to have drained out of him entirely; now he looked broken, exhausted and anguished. For a whole minute, there was only silence again.

Finally, the guildmaster looked away. “…It doesn't matter anymore, anyway,” he whispered. “Ducker, Tetsuo, Sasamaru… we can't keep going without them. Joining the clearers… that was nothing but a stupid dream, and we paid for it. Let's… let's just go back, leave the fighting to… them. There's… nothing more we can do…”

Kirito was more than a little surprised when Sachi took a long breath, and firmly shook her head. “I can't do that,” she said softly. “If I hide again… I might as well die. I've been out training every night for weeks now, trying to be strong enough not to let anyone die again. If I stop now… none of this will have meant anything.”

The guildmaster of what had been the Black Cats just looked at her, looking utterly broken; Kirito thought he didn't have anything left to even by surprised by Sachi's decision, now. “…Do what you want. I… I can't… do this… anymore… If you need me, you'll know where to find me…” His hand fumbled at a belt pouch, and came out with a bright blue crystal. “Teleport: City of Beginnings.”

With the battle over, apparently the game considered the trap to be destroyed, as well. Blue light flashed in a sphere around Keita, and he was gone.

Only then did Kizmel quietly walk over and rest an arm on Sachi's shoulders. “You could've gone with him, Sachi,” she said softly.

“No,” the other girl whispered. “No, I couldn't… Not this time. I can't just run away again. If I do… my friends will have died for nothing.” She swallowed. “But… I don't know what to do now. I'm not ready for the frontlines, I know that. I need… something else.”

In that room of horror, Kirito couldn't help but admire Sachi's courage. If he'd lost as many friends as she had, especially all at once like this, he was sure he'd have run away, like Keita. The strength it must've taken to go on, in the face of that…

I… have to do something. Whatever Sachi says, Keita wasn't all wrong, either. I have to try and do something to make up for this… however pathetic it might be. It was his turn to swallow now, unnoticed by either girl. Well… here's hoping he doesn't hate me.

“I've got an idea,” Kirito said aloud, reaching up with a shaking hand to open his menu. “I… know someone who might be able to help you, Sachi. Let's get back to town, and then I need to send a couple of messages…”

Kizmel didn't know who, exactly, her partner had decided to contact. One of them, she was fairly sure, was Argo—if anyone knew what had gone wrong, it would be the information broker—but all she knew about the other was that a reply had come quickly enough to surprise Kirito, and then he'd led them not just back to Corineth but to the town's teleport gate.

The Seventeenth Floor wasn't one she'd spent much time on. It had been cleared by the time she made her way up to rejoin Kirito, and their expeditions with the Black Cats had mostly skipped it. Even so, Kizmel had always wanted to see more of it, after Kirito mentioned offhand that its architecture was much like that of his own ancestral land.

This time, she hoped, they might have time to take a closer look at the pagodas of Taira, when their business was finished. For now, though, she and Sachi simply followed in Kirito's wake as he led them through the town's streets according to directions he'd received from his contact.

At length, they came to a halt in front of a building of the same style as the high-tiered fortress that dominated one end of Taira, albeit on a much smaller scale. Looking anxious, Kirito hesitantly lifted one hand and knocked at the front door.

It opened at once, revealing a man Kizmel could only describe as “scruffy”, to borrow an expression from Argo. Wild red hair kept in check by a bandana, a shadow of a goatee, red armor of a style that somehow reminded her of the buildings around them, and a katana at his waist; if she hadn't known better, she might've taken him for a mountain bandit.

The way the man's face lit up at the sight of his visitor dispelled that idea in an instant. “Oi, Kirito! Long time no see! C'mon, get in here!” He didn't give the young Swordmaster time to reply before grabbing him by the arm and hauling him bodily into the building.

“H-hey, take it easy, Klein,” Kirito protested.

“Heh. First time I hear a word from you in months, and you think I'm gonna take it easy?” The redhead shook his head, grinning, then sobered. “Sorry. Your message said you had something serious to ask me. Got anything to do with your friends…?”

Kizmel wasn't surprised by his reaction, once he'd caught sight of her. Clearers were used to her by now; Swordmasters farther from the frontlines tended to react more like the Black Cats originally had. Or worse, she thought sadly, remembering Keita's spiteful words. Though I suppose it is hard to blame him for being angry that Kirito would save me over another human… But why did he say I'm “not real”? Did the loss truly harm his mind that badly…?

The older Swordmaster's actions, when he snapped out of his initial surprise, startled her out of her brooding. He abruptly snapped to a position of attention, then bowed with truly awe-inspiring precision. “Excuse me, My Lady! My name is Klein, twenty-three years old, currently single—Oof!”

He stumbled back, almost falling over, from the force of Kirito's punch to his shoulder. “This isn't the time for that, Klein,” he said; despite his rebuke, though, Kirito actually seemed to loosen up a little, and when he turned back to his companions it was with an expression of resigned tolerance. “Sachi, Kizmel, this is Klein, guildmaster of Fuurinkazan. He may look scruffy, but you can count on him.”

Klein straightened up, rubbing his abused shoulder, but he grinned gamely. “Yeah, what he said. Uh… nice to meet you guys.”

“Um, likewise, Klein,” Sachi said softly, bobbing her head in a nod.

“A pleasure, Guildmaster Klein.” Kizmel paused; then, unable to resist, added, “But I'm afraid your implied request would require my Queen's permission.”

The guildmaster blinked, seemed to notice only then that she wasn't human, and then glanced at Sachi's subdued face. “Okay,” he said after a moment. “I can see something big happened. 'Sides, Argo got here before you did, and I've never seen the Rat look that ready to go orange before. Why don't you guys tell me all about it?”

Ten minutes later, they were gathered around a low table within Fuurinkazan's guildhall. Argo had been waiting for them, looking angrier than Kizmel had ever seen, and the rest of Klein's guild looked just as furious by the end of it.

“Damn,” Klein said softly, when Kirito had finished outlining the day's horrible events. “That's just… Who the hell expects a boss at the end of something like that?” He looked over at Argo, who was pacing restlessly. “You got any idea what went wrong?”

“Damn right,” the Rat spat, coming to an abrupt halt. “Kii-bou, I checked into it the minute I got your message. I got sold bad info, and I don't let that slide. Even if you weren't friends of mine.” Her fists were clenched so tight that were it not for the charm protecting Swordmasters from harm within their settlements, Kizmel feared she would've hurt herself. “This wasn't just 'bad' info, either. This was a straight-up lie. The son of a bitch was trying to get people killed.”

“This… was on purpose?” Sachi whispered, blinking back fresh tears.

“You're sure?” Kirito said sharply. “I know MPKs have been tried before, but—”

“Pretty sure,” Argo said grimly. “Knew I shoulda been suspicious when Joe, of all people—you remember him, right? One of Cactus-head's lackeys?—starting coming up with new info, but everything before this checked out fine. This time…” She hissed, sounding more like an angry cat than her namesake. “I tried to 'ask' him about it when I got your message, and you know what I found? He's gone. Took off this morning, nobody's seen him since. An' believe me, our old 'buddy' Kibaou is about ready to go orange himself. Cactus-head hates your guts, Kii-bou, but this was just the kind of thing he gets on 'Beaters' for.”

Kizmel found herself nodding. Kibaou, from what she remembered, was an unpleasant individual, but hypocrisy didn't seem to be one of his vices. At least, not the kind that made him anything like the one group he most despised.

Argo spun on her heel, stalked angrily to the other side of the room, and stopped again. “One thing's for sure—I'm gonna be a hell of a lot more careful about my sources from now on. That somebody used me to get people killed—” Abruptly, the anger seemed to drain out of her, and she turned back to the group with a pained expression. “Kii-bou, Kii-chan, Sacchin… I'm sorry. I screwed up.”

Kirito looked away, unable to speak; Sachi, though, managed to meet Argo's eyes. “It's not your fault, Argo-san,” she said softly. “I… don't know if Keita will ever see that, but I do. Especially if someone else set you up.”

“I still let myself get tricked in the first place.” Argo huffed. “I can't fix what happened, but I'm gonna make damn sure it doesn't happen again. And I'm gonna find out who put Joe up to this; I don't think that screaming ninny had it in him to come up with something like this himself.”

Thinking on that for a moment, Kizmel was inclined to agree. She hadn't seen Joe much, but she did remember him as being rather high-strung. Enough so to irritate even Kibaou, as I recall.

“I'd try and find out more about Morte, if I were you,” Kirito put in. “This really sounds like his handiwork. Just… be careful, okay, Argo?”

“Always am, Kii-bou.” Argo tilted her head. “So. What're you guys gonna do now? Must be some reason you wanted Klein in on this.”

“Right.” Kirito took a deep breath, turning his attention to the guildmaster. “Klein, I know it's selfish of me to ask, after what happened back on the first day…”

“Shut up, Kirito,” Klein said, surprising Kizmel by glaring at her partner. “Are you seriously still beating yourself up about that? I told you back then: it wouldn't have been fair for me to count on you all the time. You taught me the basics, and it got me—and my buddies—this far just fine.” His expression and tone both softened. “You don't have a damn thing to be sorry about. So c'mon, tell me what you need.”

Kizmel thought for a second that Kirito's eyes had misted up, just a little; if so, though, he blinked them clear in a hurry. “If you say so, Klein… Anyway. Keita went back to the City of Beginnings, after the battle, so… the Black Cats really don't exist anymore. I was wondering if maybe you could pick up where we left off, training Sachi…?”

If Klein was at all surprised by that, it didn't give him much pause. He turned to look at Sachi, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. Kizmel's mental image of him as a mountain bandit was broken by the sympathy in his eyes as he evaluated the lost young girl, suddenly looking more like a true leader than any human Swordmaster she'd yet met.

“Hell of thing you went through today, Sachi-san,” he said after a moment. “I've lost a couple of friends myself since Kayaba turned this place into a death trap, but never anything like that. You sure you're ready to keep going?”

Sachi swallowed, but met his gaze levelly. “I… I am. If I don't keep going, either I'll die, or I'll go and hide somewhere and never come back out. Maybe not even when we finally clear this place.”

Klein looked at her a moment longer, then looked up at his guildmates. “Guys? What do you think?”

A tall, mustachioed man with a bandana covering most of the top of his head shrugged. “More the merrier, Leader. Helping out a girl in trouble's right up our alley anyway, right?”

His fellows nodded, and Klein turned back to Sachi. “Okay, Sachi-san, you're in. Welcome to Fuurinkazan. But,” he added, raising one finger, “you're not going anywhere for a couple of days, at least. I get what you mean about running away, but I'm not letting you back into a fight until you've had time to rest, got it?”

Sachi nodded. “I understand,” she whispered. “And… thank you, Guildmaster.”

“Just call me Klein.” He waved a hand, then turned back to Kirito. “Speaking of rest. You and Kizmel-san are staying here tonight, too. Don't even try to argue,” he said, when Kirito opened his mouth. “You're staying here, or I pay Argo to do something. If you've been hanging around with a girl since I last saw you, I'm sure she's got blackmail material.”
“…You fight dirty, Klein,” Kirito complained.

“Like I'd win any other way? You taught me everything I know about this game.” Klein gestured toward a doorway leading farther into the guildhall. “Go on, get some rest. Let other people worry about things for a while.”

Kirito wasn't prepared to admit it, but as he walked into the unused bedroom Klein had directed him to, he was actually grateful for the demand that he stay the night. The last thing in the world that he wanted to do was go back to the inn the Moonlit Black Cats had been using as a base, and it was by now far too late to go looking for another.

After everything, all he wanted to do was rest, and try to forget, if only for a little while, the enormity of his failure.

Argo says it's not my fault. Klein says it's not my fault. Sachi says it isn't. Kirito stowed his sword, coat, boots, and gloves in his inventory, then flung himself down on one of the futons the Sengoku-themed guildhall used for bedding. Give me a few months, and maybe I'll even start to believe it. Maybe.

Though the knowledge that they'd been set up did assuage his guilt some. Of course, at the same time it made him feel more guilty, for giving him a reason to feel better about himself.

Lying on his side, facing away from the door, he didn't see when Kizmel came in, but he heard her well enough. Heard the distinctive tinkling sound as her armor was banished in whatever arcane way the Dark Elves stored their equipment, and then a faint rustling of cloth from her settling into the futon next to him.

Kirito tried to pretend he was already asleep, dreading what his partner might say to him now that they were finally alone, but she'd been with him too long. She knew his habits fully as well as Asuna had come to, by now. “Kirito,” she said softly. “We need to talk.”

“…Yeah.” He didn't know what she was going to say, exactly, but her relative silence since the defeat of The Commandant had struck him as very, very ominous; and much as he wanted to, there really was nothing good to come from postponing whatever this conversation would be.

For a long moment, she said no more, as if trying to put her thoughts into words. Then, finally, Kizmel said, “Keita said… that I wasn't 'real'. And Guildmaster Klein… he called this a 'game'. All along, I've heard Swordmasters refer to themselves as 'players', but I thought there must have been some meaning in your language that I didn't understand. Yet now…”

He closed his eyes, wincing. That was a question he'd known for months now was going to come up sooner or later, ever since it became plain just how intelligent Kizmel really was. At the same time, he'd been trying to put it off—at first because he'd been deathly afraid of what reaction her program might have to it, and then because he couldn't think of any way to really answer it that she could even understand, given her worldview.

No, Kirito told himself. That's not the real reason. The real reason is… I've been afraid she'd hate me for it. …I still am.

That didn't make the other point any less valid, though. How could he explain that she only existed inside a dreamworld, seemingly the only “real” person out of the thousands of NPCs and mobs? If someone had told him he was only a program, he wouldn't believe it either, and he at least had the right frame of reference to grasp the concept.

No, I can't explain that. Especially since even I don't know why she is different from all the others. But… maybe I can explain about us, a little. I just hope… she doesn't hate us for it.

Maybe Kizmel had some idea of just what a difficult question she'd asked, because she waited patiently for him to think of a way to phrase it in a way she'd understand. Finally, he said, very quietly and hesitantly, “…It wasn't supposed to be real. None of it was.”

She made a thoughtful sound. “Sachi once told me you were expecting it to be almost like a game, that you had been told you'd simply awaken in your own world if you died here…”

“No.” The word was a whisper, forced out past a lump in Kirito's throat. “It wasn't supposed to be 'almost' like a game, Kizmel. It was a game. That's how Kayaba sold it. It was supposed to be… the closest way I can think of to say it that you'd understand is like a lucid dream. It was just going to be the most lifelike game ever.”

There was a long silence from behind him. Then, “So… when you refer to yourselves as players…”

“Yeah. That's all we really are, Kizmel. We came here to play a game, and got stuck fighting for our lives.” He sighed. “It's still hard for a lot of us to accept, even now. That we're being killed by a game. Some people still don't believe it.”

“Like Keita.”

Kirito shook his head. “Not… exactly. It's…” He trailed off, and made a frustrated sound. “I'm sorry, Kizmel, I really don't know how to explain a lot of this. But… it's one thing to accept we can die here, and another to really think of Aincrad as 'real'. …Or the people in it as real.” He hesitated. “…Honestly, I used to feel the same way. Until I met you, Kizmel.”

That was a hard admission to make. Very hard. He didn't have the least idea how she'd take it, but he'd realized now that if they were going to continue as partners, he had to admit his own uncertainty—and that it had once nearly led him to let her die.

As he had let her die, three times, in the beta.

For a time, all he heard was the sound of his partner breathing. At length, she asked, very softly, “So what do you think of this world now, Kirito? Of its people? Are we… 'real'? Is Aincrad 'real' to you?”

“You are,” Kirito said immediately. His lingering questions about her aside, it was impossible for him now to think of her as anything but a person, whether he understood how it was possible or not. “Otherwise… Truth is, I'm not sure what's going on, Kizmel. I thought I knew, but some things just don't make sense… So ever since I met you, I've treated this world just like I would my own.”

After another long, tense pause, Kizmel said, voice still soft, “Kirito… your people aren't fighters at all, are they? The Swordmasters… If you were expecting an actual game, then training in real war was not in the summoning criteria at all, was it?”

“…No,” he admitted. “I'm sure there's some people here that actually had military training in our world, but most of us? Kids having fun, like the Black Cats, were most of the people who got caught in this.”

“And you?”

Kirito laughed; a bitter, humorless sound. “Me? I'm a school kid, Kizmel. The closest I came to knowing how to fight was a little kendo practice—wooden swords—when I was little. Not even kenjutsu; kendo's just for sport. Everything I know about really fighting, I learned here.” He snorted, a sound of self-reproach. “That's why… I've always avoided guilds. Why I was always afraid, working with the Black Cats. It's… why I left Klein to fend for himself, the day we came here. I've got no business being responsible for other people…”

It actually felt kind of good, saying it out loud at last. Admitting just how insane it was for him to get involved with anyone else. After all, the deaths of Ducker, Tetsuo, and Sasamaru had only proven it. Maybe they'd all been tricked, but they never would've been in that position if he hadn't gotten involved, lifting them to heights they couldn't handle.

Of course, now Kizmel knows just what kind of a fraud she's been working with, he thought, gloom overtaking the selfish relief. Just a pretend hero; nothing like a proper knight—

Kirito heard another rustle of cloth, and was startled to feel arms slipping around him, warm softness pressing against his back. “You're very brave, Kirito,” Kizmel whispered.

“B-brave?” he stuttered, caught off-balance both by her words and the feel of her breath on his neck. “Me?”

“You came to this world believing it to be nothing more than a game, with no training for battle. Yet you not only persevered, but you've always been right at the front this whole time, Kirito. Had you not told me, I would never have even suspected you were anything less than a warrior from a long lineage.”

He started to shake his head in denial; stopped when he realized the effect it had on the body pressed against his. “I left Klein behind, when I could've helped him. Today, I… I couldn't save Tetsuo, or Ducker. And when I could have saved Sasamaru, I…”

“No one expects you to bear responsibility for everyone, Kirito,” Kizmel told him gently. “Klein said as much himself, didn't he? And for all those you may not have saved, how many more have lived because of your efforts? As for saving me…” It was her turn to hesitate. “…I will always feel some guilt myself, for that choice having been made. But, Kirito… it means a great deal to me, that you would make such a choice.”

“But… how can I face anyone else from my world, after that? I mean… whatever I may believe about you, almost nobody else does think you're really 'real', Kizmel, and I… don't know how I could even tell them they're wrong.”

Her response was to pull herself closer against him, causing his face to turn a bright red he was sure could be seen even in the dark. “I cannot answer your existential questions, Kirito, or theirs. But I can say that, as far as I'm concerned, no one has any right to question your choices, when you've done so much, despite being so ill-prepared.”

“…I still couldn't save the Black Cats,” Kirito whispered, closing his eyes. Despite his protest, she had eased his mind—and part of him hated himself for it.

“Neither could I,” Kizmel pointed out simply. “Do not believe that I will sleep easily tonight either, Kirito. Whether the responsibility was truly yours or mine, we still failed, and it hurts me as much as it does you. But nothing we do now will bring them back. All we can do is push forward—and free all of you to return to your homeland.” She shifted against him, the feel of her body against his enough to make him fear spontaneous combustion from sheer embarrassment. “For now… like Klein said, sleep, Kirito. I will be here with you.”

Sleeping sounded easier said than done, to him, especially in their compromising position. Even so, despite his fears of Argo wandering in and obtaining her best blackmail material yet, the stress of the day was catching up to him; gradually, Kirito started to slip into the temporary reprieve of darkness.

Just before he dozed off entirely, though, he thought he heard Kizmel say something else. He couldn't quite make it out, though, and he decided muzzily that it couldn't be important.

“...See it… with you…”

Klein knew he didn't always come across as the most reliable guy around. Actually, he was perfectly well aware that a lot of people, his own guildmates included, considered him to be pretty goofy, a lot of the time. And, if he was going to be perfectly honest—to himself, anyway—he couldn't really deny it.

Even so, there was a reason that, ten months into the death game, Fuurinkazan hadn't lost even a single member. He took his responsibilities as a guildmaster damned seriously, and the first thing he did after completing the formalities of registering Sachi with Fuurinkazan was buy every bit of information about the Black Cats that Argo had. Rat-like prices be damned.

While he was looking over the surprising wealth of information the Rat had on such a small, low-level guild, Klein took the time to look in on his newest recruit and his guests. All things considered, he wasn't surprised that Sachi stayed up a little later than was really wise—nor, from what Argo said, that she ended up in the same room as the guests.
Looking over the sleeping young warriors, Klein slowly shook his head. “They've had a hell of time, haven't they?” he muttered to Argo, who'd followed him as he did his rounds.

“Yep,” she agreed, for once not a trace of trolling in her voice. “Most of the Black Cats were pretty sheltered, right up until today. Sacchin, though… she knew something like this could happen. And Kii-bou… You talked to him much since launch day?”

“He'd answer if I had a question. Or if I got fed up waiting and asked him if he was okay. But today was the first time he sent me a message on his own.” Klein grimaced. “I've heard rumors, though. The 'Beater', huh?”

“Kii-bou saved a lot of lives with that stunt, Klein. Probably the only reason it didn't kill him was because everybody knew we needed him.” Argo took a near-silent step forward, knelt, and gently drew a blanket over her sleeping friends; right now, her demeanor was entirely at odds with her reputation. “It ain't all been bad, Klein… but he's always been right at the front. Some of the other clearers think he goes for the LA all the time 'cause he wants loot. You and I know better.”

Klein nodded. Kirito had made a powerful first impression, that day. He'd taught Klein the essential basics of SAO, and tried to get him clear of the chaos when Kayaba revealed his crazy plan. He'd run away, sure, but Klein knew damn well that it wasn't greed, but raw terror that drove him.

If his young friend had ever run away since, Klein hadn't heard a whisper about it.

“So,” he said, when Argo had pulled back from the sleeping pair. “An MPK, huh? Pretty bold, using you to bait the trap.”

“Joe will pay for that,” she said, voice low and dangerous. “I may be a Rat, but I ain't a murderer. I'm gonna find him, and whoever put him up to it, and they're gonna pay. Maybe I can't fight 'em head-on, but they're gonna find out why you don't make an info broker mad.”

Klein believed her. There were a lot of people in Aincrad who didn't like Argo the Rat, but there were damn few who didn't take her seriously these days; making an enemy of the single biggest—and most reliable—source of information in the game wasn't smart. She had a long reach, if she wanted to use it.

Argo took a noticeable deep breath, and when she spoke again, she was calmer, if no less firm. “You'd better take care of Sacchin, Klein,” she said, gazing sadly on the girl; from the pinched look on her face, and her fitful movements, Sachi's sleep was anything but peaceful. “I don't know her that well, but she's been through hell.”

“You've got my word on it,” Klein said sincerely. “I won't let anybody in my guild die, Argo. You know that.” His gaze drifted to the other sleepers, and he found himself shaking his head in bemusem*nt. “Those two, now… That's the weirdest thing I've seen since all this started.”

Death if HP hit zero, no way to log out, monsters of every shape and form that turned out to be a lot scarier when there wasn't a computer monitor between you and them… He'd dealt with all of that. Human jackasses screwing things up for the hell of it, well, he'd been playing MMOs long enough to know griefers all too well, even if he couldn't understand how people could be insane enough to keep doing that under these conditions.

Even the rumors of MPKs he'd been hearing about lately, Klein wasn't really shocked by. Worried, furious, uncomprehending—but not shocked.

The obviously-NPC elf girl currently curled up against Kirito's back, that confused the hell out of him. He'd worked with NPCs a few times in specific quests, but they all had very obvious patterns, and clear limits as to where they could go. A Dark Elf with a cursor dark enough to make him more than a little nervous following a player through town and dungeon both?

To say nothing of how she'd behaved in the short time Klein had been around her, which from Argo's blackmail files was only the tip of the iceberg.

“…You think she's real?” he asked after a minute or so of silence. “I mean… she's an NPC, but the way she talks…”

“I don't know,” Argo said frankly, shaking her head. “Kii-bou and Aa-chan do, though. And it's true I've never seen an NPC who came that close to me at trolling…” She shrugged. “I don't know. It's crazy, really, but the truth is I've never seen an NPC at all like Kii-chan.

“Either way, Kii-bou and Aa-chan think Kii-chan's a person, and I owe 'em both. 'Specially Kii-bou.” Argo watched the sleeping partners, an unusually gentle smile on her face. “Think maybe I'm gonna do my best to help 'em out. 'Least I can do for them, dontcha' think?”

Chapter 6: Chapter VI: Minuet of Forest I

Chapter Text

Chapter VI: Minuet of Forest I

October 3rd, 2023

September had been a slow month for the clearing group. The frontline had been on the Thirty-Fifth Floor at the beginning; now, just at the start of October, they'd only gained two floors since.

Kirito couldn't bring himself to begrudge the slow progress, though. The slow going—due for once to the maze-like nature of the floors in question, rather than mob strength—had given him some much-needed time to pull himself back together after the fiasco that had opened September. The mobs and Floor Bosses had been relatively easy, posing little threat to the strong players who formed the core of the clearers.

The Thirty-Seventh Floor, from the look of it, wasn't going to be so confusing. Kirito wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing; it looked peaceful—after the defeat of the previous floor's boss, he'd emerged onto this one in a quiet forest—but looks, especially in SAO, could be deceiving.

Especially when Argo the Rat requested a personal meeting, in a very out of the way place, before even the first edition of her next floor guide could possibly be ready.

Following her instructions, Kirito and Kizmel had made their way to the forest village Ilden, a hamlet near the southern edge of the floor. There was no proper road there, only what looked like a game trail; from what Kirito could tell, no other players had yet discovered the place. Possibly, he thought ruefully, even other clearers had decided a game trail should wait until they'd gained a few levels on the new floor.

Considering the strength of the predators haunting the trail, he didn't blame them. He and Kizmel were strong enough to fight off the Sabertooth Jaguars lurking in the trees, but only because of the intensive training they'd done since the tragedy on the Twenty-Eighth Floor. He was pretty sure even he would've been killed in short order, if he'd been solo.

“Argo is certainly in a mysterious mood,” Kizmel commented, when they finally emerged into Ilden proper. “Why would she want to meet in a place like this? And how did she get here, alone?”

“If there's one thing she's good at, it's hiding,” Kirito reminded her. Still, he was uneasy, too. “Still risky for her, I'll admit… Think that's the place she was talking about?” he added, pointing toward a small, cozy-looking inn not far into the village.

“Likely enough. I suppose we need not speculate any longer, then.”

As expected, the Rat herself was sitting at a table in the farthest corner of the inn's dining room, sipping distractedly at a large mug of something while checking her menu. When she saw the duo enter, she flipped back her hood, grinned, and waved them over.

“You know,” Kirito said by way of greeting, sliding into a chair across from her, “isn't the back corner kind of overkill, Argo? I don't think there's any other players within a kilometer of the village, let alone in the building.” Inside a building no one's cursor would appear, but to his experienced eye the other inn patrons were all NPCs, going through the motions of life without quite feeling “genuine”.

Kizmel, he noticed absently, was also looking over the NPCs as she sat, an oddly thoughtful look on her face. If anything was bothering her, though, she made no comment about it then.

“That any way to say hello, Kii-bou?” Argo asked him, shaking her head. “Ah, never mind. Let's say I wanna be really careful… especially these days. Ever since… Well, you know.”

“Yeah.” So far, no one else had tried to pawn off false information on Argo, but Joe had successfully evaded pursuit and had not been seen since most of the Moonlit Black Cats had been murdered. Worse, Kirito had heard of other monster PKs since, suggesting that Joe—or whoever put him up to it; he still suspected Morte of continued involvement—hadn't given up.

“Have you had any word from Fuurinkazan?” Kizmel asked, before the silence could get too gloomy. “Kirito and I have been busy lately, so we've not had a chance to check in on them in weeks.”

Kirito winced. That was true enough, but there was more to it than that. They'd never discussed it since that night, but both of them still felt guilty over what had happened; he suspected his partner was just as uncomfortable around Sachi now as he was.

“They're doin' fine, at least as of yesterday,” Argo assured them, waving her mug. “Klein's careful—and he and his guys are stronger than the Black Cats ever were. Last I heard Sacchin was getting back to being a forward—that sword she got for an LA Bonus is really helping her out.”

Goblin-Cleaver, that was. Sachi had acquired the sword from striking the final blow on The Commandant, and from what Kirito had heard since its potential stats when fully-upgraded would've made him green with envy if it had been acquired under better circ*mstances.

“I'm glad she's still able to fight,” Kizmel said quietly, eyes shadowed. “I know what she said after the battle, but I was still worried…”

“That makes three of us. But it looks like she really does have some real steel in that spine.” Argo took a gulp from her mug, set it aside, and leaned her elbows on the table. “Anyway. That was part of what I was gonna talk to you about, but there's more. Business is business, after all. You guys want the first edition of the new guide?”

Kirito blinked. “Already? Even for you, that's fast, Argo.” It was one thing below the Tenth Floor, when what she'd been doing was updating information she already had from the beta; her guides had tended to come out much more slowly since.

“Been working overtime on this one, Kii-bou,” she told him, looking unusually serious. “Stumbled on something early on that got my whiskers twitching, so I hustled. Usual price, though, despite the rush job.”

Shaking his head, Kirito dutifully exchanged a small pouch of coins—three thousand Cor, just for the first edition; her prices had gone up along with the value of treasure of the higher floors—for the small hardbound book Argo favored for her guides.

He immediately tucked it into his storage without reading it, though, and fixed the older girl with a hard look. “Okay, Argo,” he said. “Not that I'm not glad to have some advance info… but that's not really why you called us out here, is it? Most other players couldn't get here yet even if they knew about it. What's with the skulking around?”

Argo's mouth twitched in a smile. “You see right through me, don't ya, Kii-bou? You're right, though.” The smile faded. “Truth is, there's another quest I found that ain't in that guide.”

Kirito sighed. I should've known. “How much, Argo, and what kind of quest? It must be big if you're selling it separately.”

She shook her head. “No charge for this one, Kii-bou. Honestly, I'm not sure you should even try it. Not 'cause it's hard—I dunno yet what kind of difficulty we're talking about—but 'cause it might make things harder for you with the other players. Again.” She hesitated. “Truth is, yesterday I stumbled on a Dark Elf fort a ways north of Mydo.”

Startled, Kirito exchanged a glance with Kizmel. Mydo was the hub town of the floor, so it made sense to search its surroundings for quests. But a Dark Elf fort…

“I didn't even know any of my people were this high up the castle,” Kizmel said slowly, giving voice to Kirito's thoughts. “As far as I was aware, we've never had any interest much above the capital.”

“Surprised me, too. Can't tell ya what they're doing here, though, Kii-chan, 'cause they didn't let me in.” Argo somehow seemed to pull off staring at both of them simultaneously, expression very, very intent. “They did tell me this: they're waiting for just the right people to show. To be exact, they're looking for a human… partnered with a Dark Elf. Supposed to be something that needs one of each to pull off.”

Kirito stiffened. In any other game, that might not be so strange—but in SAO, the only player race was human. Dark Elves were NPC only—and there was only one player who had ever worked with Dark Elves outside the Elf War quest, let alone partnered with one.

Kizmel had been scripted to die in the battle in which he'd met her. In the beta, every time he'd gone through the quest exactly that had happened. Every time someone had run the quest after he met her, it had been a different Dark Elf, who had indeed died as in the beta.

There should be no quest that required such a partnership. It essentially meant that Kirito and Kizmel were the only people in all of Aincrad who could undertake it, and the idea of a quest that only a single player could ever take on was completely unheard of in MMOs.

Let alone a quest that would be flat-out impossible if Asuna and I hadn't somehow broken the script. Unless… I know Cardinal is supposed to be able to generate new quests autonomously, but has it really noticed us? If it had, I'd have expected it to… “correct” Kizmel, not this…

“It's real info, Kii-bou,” Argo said quietly, obviously following his train of thought. “Far as I know, nobody else has even found that camp yet. But… like I said, you might want to leave this one alone. Been awhile since that whole 'Beater' nonsense got thrown around much, but if the rewards for this quest are as big as I think they might be…”

She had a point, Kirito knew. A lot of the flack about “unfair advantages” had died down once the frontline advanced beyond the highest point the beta testers had ever reached; even more of it had faded with Kibaou's retreat. Even so, there were some who still remembered Kirito's past claims, and even those that didn't would be understandably resentful about “unique” quest rewards.

Argo's right about that… but that's not all there is to this, now. It's about more than just staying alive, or clearing the game. At least, it is for me.

Kirito had been edging in that direction ever since he met Kizmel, and began to realize there might be some in Aincrad besides players who had hopes and dreams. To this day she remained the only such he'd ever found, but—some things still bothered him. Bits of lore that didn't quite add up, strange events he couldn't completely account for; like the way The Commandant had recognized him, and held him personally responsible for the defeat of the Fallen Elves.

And all that combined with one simple fact: it would be important to Kizmel. Whatever was really going on in Aincrad, that alone deeply affected his decision.

He wasn't sure how much of that Kizmel followed, when he noticed she was looking at him. Probably most of it, as perceptive as she was; either way, though, she did have her own reasons for everything, including this. “It may be dangerous to us, Argo—especially to Kirito,” she said. “But if my people are asking for help, I cannot simply ignore it.”

“She's right,” Kirito agreed. “This could be pretty important for them. And, well—it wouldn't be the first time something like this proved important to dealing with a Floor Boss, right? Like knowing about the poison attack the Third Floor boss had, or Viscount Yofilis helping to take out the Fourth.”

Argo sighed, but didn't argue; she'd seen the latter event firsthand, after all. And if anyone knows me as well as Asuna or Kizmel these days, it's her. The thought wasn't an entirely pleasant one for Kirito, since that familiarity included a lot of blackmail material, but he knew it was true.

“Yep, I figured you'd probably say something like that, Kii-bou,” she said, shaking her head. “Okay, then. Here's what I know: the Dark Elves have a stone fort about a kilometer north of Mydo. They're looking for a human and a Dark Elf, 'cause of something to do with 'needing the strength of both races' or some such. You'll prolly need that signet ring you got from the Queen; pretty sure that's what the gate guard was talking about when he said I needed 'proof of fellowship with the Dark Elves' to get in. You still got it, right?”

“Of course.” Even if it hadn't given him a nice boost to his stats—which was of course a welcome bonus—Kirito would've kept it just for the connection with Kizmel, during the months they'd been apart. Asuna, he knew, had kept hers for much the same reason.

Argo nodded, then stood. “Well, that's about all I got for ya on this one, Kii-bou. Anything else you'll have to find out yourself—and what you do learn, I'll buy for the usual rate.”

“And sell it to whom?” Kizmel asked, lifting one lilac brow. “From what you've said, no other Swordmaster could use the information at all.”

The Rat grinned again. “'Cause someday, Kii-bou's story is going to make me a killing as a tell-all book, o'course! I'll keep the really juicy stuff to myself, don't worry—well, and Aa-chan, naturally—but I'm telling you, bestseller here!”

The frightening part, Kirito reflected, was that she might actually be telling the truth. He couldn't imagine why anyone would want to read a book about him, but if there was a way to monetize it, Argo would find it. There was nothing he could possibly do about it, either, except…

“I'd better get a signed first edition, free,” he told her, trying for a severe look. “You'll owe me, Argo.”

“Of course, of course!” Argo started for the door—then stopped, very suddenly, and was so quiet Kirito thought she was muting the whole room.

“Argo…?”

“…One other thing you should know, Kii-bou,” she said, voice barely audible now. “You remember Naga, one of Lind's guys, right? …He's dead.”

Kirito felt a sudden chill. Since the Twenty-Fifth Floor nearly wiped out the Army's best, the clearing group had only very rarely lost anyone, and never outside of a boss fight. “I hadn't heard the DDA had gotten in any trouble lately. What happened?”

“Didn't have anything to do with the rest of the DDA. And it wasn't a monster, Kii-bou.” Argo took a deep breath, meaningless in any sense but psychologically in this world. “Wasn't even an MPK. The DDA are keeping it quiet, but that tells ya a lot by itself; if it were a monster, even an MPK, they'd say so.”

He swallowed, chill deepening. Nearly a year since the penalty for character death became real, and not once had anyone been murdered directly. A handful of MPKs, at least two “duels” under suspicious circ*mstances… but never cold-blooded, personally-executed murder.

After a moment of silence, Argo lifted her hood over her head. “I know you're good, Kii-bou, and you've got Kii-chan to watch your back. But—be careful, 'kay? I don't wanna see your name struck through on the Monument. Ever.”

The two of them were, indeed, extremely cautious when they left Ilden's inn. Kizmel insisted on a light meal, despite their mutual lack of appetite, to avoid the distraction of hunger, and when they set off for the trail back to Mydo it was slow and careful. Kirito's eyes were glowing under the influence of the Search charm he had so prudently trained all this time, and Kizmel strained every sense she had to watch her own side.

For all the Swordmasters as brave and selfless as Kirito, there are still those who have completely lost their senses, she thought, keeping her shield positioned to guard her partner's right flank as much as her own left. To kill their own—that hinders their own efforts to conquer this castle, and escape. It makes no sense…

But Kirito had told her, some time before, of the laughing killer Morte, and now Kizmel could believe it all too easily. Now that she knew the Swordmasters were not trained warriors but ordinary people who had been tricked by what they believed to be a game into risking their lives, she could well believe that some of them had been broken by the realization.

The cruel trap had driven Kirito to become a warrior she gladly pledged her assistance to, and had produced steady, strong leaders like Asuna and Klein. By the same token, she could easily see it producing twisted, desperate bandits.

She only hoped she would never have to cross swords with any of them herself. If nothing else, Kizmel had no idea how the other Swordmasters might take it if a Dark Elf were forced to strike down one of their own.

Probably not well. Their perspective on this world is so different…

Kizmel shook off those thoughts. There was no time, now, to ponder the implications of the sincere belief of the Swordmasters that her world was nothing but a very dangerous dream. She'd spent quite enough time thinking about it at night lately, when she really needed to be resting; doing so now, under threat from Sabertooth Jaguars—and very possibly worse—would be foolish indeed.

About halfway back to Mydo, Kirito spoke up. “So, what do you think Dark Elves are doing way up here, anyway?” he asked, sounding very thoughtful.

She noticed he was avoiding the subject of Naga's murder, and decided it was probably just as well. “I have no idea,” she said honestly. “Admittedly, I was never privy to all of Her Majesty's secrets—I never knew of the Fallen Elf fortress we assailed months ago before it became necessary—but I'm somewhat surprised myself to hear that we have a genuine stronghold this far up the castle.”

“That's what I thought. A camp would be one thing, I could see something unexpected coming up, but it sounds like you've had some people living up here for quite awhile.” Kirito frowned, obviously very troubled by the whole thing—as, she'd noticed, he had been since Argo first brought it up. “Unless there's something they're guarding, like the Keys we gathered back—whoops!”

His exclamation was the only warning she had, before a Jaguar dropped out of nearby tree and tried to rip her partner's throat out.

For far from the first time, Kizmel found herself wishing she had Kirito's ability to estimate a foe's strength at a mere glance. What her own senses told her more vaguely was that the enormous feline was not the kind of monster one would've wanted to stumble upon right upon arriving on the new floor. Kirito managed to get his left arm up in time to keep the beast from his throat, but as always he wore no armor there but the leather of his coat; from his grunt and wince, she knew he'd taken no small injury.

That spurred her into bashing the Jaguar with her shield, knocking loose its grip on Kirito's arm. As it fell to the ground, she pulled her sword back, let the charm read her intent, and drove the blade forward in a Piercing Thrust.

Kizmel sometimes thought the Swordmasters' immunity to pain did them more harm than good, leading them to be more reckless than they might otherwise, but it served Kirito well now. As soon as the Jaguar was off him, he had his own sword held over his shoulder; when it recoiled from Kizmel's strike, he let the Sonic Leap carry him forward, swinging the blade down just below the Jaguar's jaw.

Where it had failed, he succeeded: the flashing blow cut cleanly through its throat, severing its head completely.

“Guess I got a little careless there,” he said, while the beast fragmented into blue shards. “Uh… maybe we should save the talking until we're someplace safer?”

Looking up at the sets of glowing eyes becoming visible in the trees around them—another half-dozen Sabertooth Jaguars, she estimated—Kizmel nodded in agreement. “Agreed. I fear we'll be too busy for any further discussion for a little while.”

Kirito grinned, the look of a warrior reveling in a good fight; no trace at all, now, of the lost young student who showed through in his more vulnerable moments. “What the heck. We could probably use the EXP, anyway.”

She shook her head, but couldn't help smiling anyway. “Asuna is right—you do enjoy this too much, sometimes. But… I think I could use a chance to vent.” She lifted her saber to point directly at the nearest Jaguar. “Come, then, beasts—if you dare to challenge two Knights, we will oblige!”

It leapt, joined swiftly by its fellows. Their swords were waiting.

By the time they actually reached Mydo again, Kirito was feeling refreshed. Argo's news had been disturbing in more ways than one; fighting through a veritable pack of bloodthirsty cats—something he could tangibly fight against—had been a welcome distraction. Even if Aincrad were somehow “real”, he at least had no particularly compunction about forcing hungry beasts to respawn.

Too bad the peace won't last long, he thought ruefully. One way or another, things are about to get complicated again, I'm sure of it. The throngs of players they weaved through on their way to the other side of Mydo gave neither of them more than a passing glance now, used to both the “Beater” and his NPC companion; whether they'd still be so uncaring after the next quest ended, he didn't know.

They passed out of Mydo's north gate a bit after noon, and Kirito forced himself to relax. With no information of any kind, it was far too early to start worrying about witch hunts again. Besides, on balance quests with the Dark Elves have actually been pretty fun, at least when no one's stirring up trouble on purpose. He actually found himself smiling at that. Hey, that is one good thing about this: if we're the only ones who can do it at all, there's no chance of guilds coming to blows over it.

The trip through along the northern forest path was much quieter than the return from Ilden. The mobs being much more appropriate for players just arriving on the floor—let alone those as over-leveled as he and Kizmel were—they even managed to snack between encounters, their appetites having returned some.

Kirito had settled for a basic sandwich; Kizmel, he was amused to note, was once again experimenting, this time with a crepe she'd asked him to buy from a street vendor in Mydo. “You humans have a surprisingly wide variety of foods,” she said, when she noticed him looking. “Not that my people are lacking in the culinary arts, but the sheer imagination of yours is remarkable.”

He shrugged. “Nine Kingdoms before the Great Separation here,” he pointed out between bites of his sandwich, “plus whatever stuff got imported from my world. We've got a lot of different cultures to draw from, that's all.”

“There is that,” she admitted. She took a small bite of her crepe, chewed, swallowed; gave a satisfied nod, took a larger bite. “The sheer variety of your clothing alone is bewildering. You seem to have something special for every possible use. Even bathing, which I would think would defeat the purpose…”

Kirito choked on his sandwich, and was suddenly grateful he didn't actually need to breathe. He coughed, tried—probably in vain—to fight down a blush, and mumbled, “Technically, those weren't actually for bathing… Swimsuits are meant for, well, swimming, not…”

Kizmel smiled at him; the look, he thought, of someone who'd gotten exactly the reaction they were looking for. “Ah, so that's where they came from! I thought Asuna wasn't being completely honest; after all, neither of you bothered with such things when you stayed in our camp on the Third Floor.”

He found himself wishing for a mob attack, preferably strong ones. Anything to change the subject. “You didn't have separate baths at Yofel Castle, and humans… we don't really go in for mixed bathing. Hey… didn't I tell you that before?”

“You did,” she acknowledged, still with that teasing note in her voice. “I still think it's a waste, though… Ah, I believe we have arrived.”

Kirito had never been so grateful to see a grim edifice of stone in his life. The Dark Elf fort Argo had pointed them toward was much smaller than Yofel Castle, and had none of that island fortress' majesty, yet just then it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.

He wasn't even bothered by the pair of heavily-armored guards standing before the main entrance, or the way they pointed spears at them as they approached. “This is territory held by the Kingdom of Lyusula. Even those of our people may only enter with proof of their business—and humans only with proof of Royal favor.”

Kizmel came to a halt just before them, saluted, and then lifted her right hand. “I am Kizmel, a Pagoda Knight in service to Her Majesty,” she proclaimed, showing the ring that, among other things, allowed her to cure herself of poisons. “I am ascending the castle as Swordmaster Kirito's companion, repaying the aid he gave to our Kingdom.”

Awkwardly, Kirito followed her lead, both in salute and presenting the ring he'd been given by the Queen of the Dark Elves herself, after the defeat of the Fallen Elves. “My name is Kirito, human Swordmaster, friend of elves and Kizmel's companion.” He hoped that was about right, as pretentious as it sounded. “We had word that the Dark Elves here needed help…”

The guards cautiously stepped close enough to examine both rings, then returned to their positions, shouldered their spears, and saluted. “Lady Kizmel, Swordmaster Kirito—we had heard you might be coming. You may enter: Countess Ryella awaits inside.”

Kirito exchanged a surprised look with Kizmel. They were expecting us, specifically? …Well, I guess if Cardinal created this quest because of us, it makes some sense…

“We shall see her at once, then,” Kizmel said, relieving him of the need to figure out what to say. “Where do we go? I'm afraid I've never been here before.”

The guards looked blank, and after a pause on of them said, “I am sorry, you will have to be more specific.”

She frowned. “Where are we to meet the Countess?” she prompted.

“The tower above the central keep, Lady Kizmel,” the same guard answered, as if the pause had never occurred. “Countess Ryella prefers to be able to view the surrounding forest as she works.”

“Thank you.” She gave the guards a strange look, then shrugged and motioned for Kirito to follow her inside.

He did, and spared a thoughtful glance at the guards himself. That's never happened before. It's like… like Kizmel found a question that wasn't specific enough for their algorithms to answer…

There was, as the guards had indicated, a tower reaching high above the rest of the fortress from the central courtyard. Another pair of guards protected its entrance, but allowed the clearer duo to pass completely unchallenged; somehow, they'd apparently already received word.

Another elven charm? Kirito wondered as they climbed the stairs inside. I'm sure nobody went in ahead of us… Well, of course the system wouldn't have any problems letting one set of NPCs know what another saw, but there's always been some kind of in-universe rationalization before…

He shelved the thought for another time when they reached the top floor of the tower, and came to a heavy wooden door at the end of the hall. Deferring to his partner, he let Kizmel precede him to knock. “Enter,” came the soft reply from inside.

Following Kizmel inside, Kirito's first thought on entering the office was that it was about the direct opposite of the first such chamber he'd entered, the office of Viscount Yofilis. Because of Yofilis' health condition making light dangerous for him—or rather, as Kirito had found by the end of that quest, shame over his scarred face—the Viscount's chambers had been concealed by darkness, making it impossible to see any detail.

By contrast, this room was lit by wide windows on three walls, giving both plenty of natural light and a commanding view of the surrounding forest. A few tapestries and weapons adorned the walls, including a particularly fine set of the latter behind the large desk; sitting in a chair at said desk was plainly visible a Dark Elf woman. She was dressed much as Kizmel was when out of armor, though to Kirito's—admittedly inexperienced—eye, this elf's clothes were of a higher quality, befitting nobility.

Before he or his partner could speak, the woman stood. Slightly taller than Kizmel, Kirito thought, with much the same skin tone; darker hair, though, and maybe a bit plainer features. “Lady Kizmel,” she said, “Swordmaster Kirito. Welcome to Fort Renya; I am Countess Ryella. I have been expecting you.”

Kirito twitched. That was the first time he'd ever heard an NPC use his name without hearing it spoken directly; even Kizmel had needed a couple of tries to get the pronunciation right. The surprise of it, on top of everything else already odd about the situation, drove whatever greeting he'd originally planned right out of his mind, and for a second he just stood there dumbly.

Fortunately, Kizmel didn't have any such hangups, and responded smoothly. “Thank you, Milady. Although I admit, I wasn't aware of any reason you should have been expecting us; nor, to be honest, that this fortress even existed.”

Ryella gestured for them to sit in the pair of chairs on the other side of the desk, and when they'd all sat, she said, “Your reputations precede you, Lady Kizmel, Swordmaster. Word reached us several months ago of the end of the war with the Forest Elves and the defeat of the Fallen—and more recently of your alliance in wresting control of the Pillars from the evil that holds them now. It was only a matter of time before you reached this place.

“As to Fort Renya itself, our role is not well-known even among the Dark Elves. Here on this floor, known to those of us who live in this place, lie relics dating back to the time before the Great Separation. Relics of great power, which my family has guarded for many generations.”

Kirito leaned forward, suddenly interested. This was exactly the kind of lore he'd been chasing down ever since Kizmel first hinted to him the greater story behind Aincrad's in-universe existence. “Relics, Milady?” he asked, awkwardly copying Kizmel's form of address.

Ryella nodded. “Indeed. By now, you doubtless know that the Kingdom of Lyusula and the Nine Kingdoms of Man have never been particularly close, even before the Great Separation—yet there have been times of mutual need, and certain items remain of these ancient alliances. My family has been charged with guarding a repository of them on this very floor, to prevent their misuse.” She paused. “Recently, I received word from Her Majesty to prepare for the end of that duty.”

Well, at least something's going normal, Kirito thought, relaxing a little. So far, other than the oddly specific requirements for the quest, it was sounding normal enough; he could guess easily enough what the task Ryella had for them was, now.

From the look on her face, Kizmel had come to much the same conclusions, but without his understanding of gaming conventions, she was obviously confused as to the reason. “Milady, are you suggesting that Kirito and I are to take these relics?” Ryella nodded. “Why?”

“Her Majesty's letter was sparse, but she said she believes the time has come that our people must aid humans once more,” the Countess said softly. “The scope of what may occur when the Swordmasters finally reach the Ruby Palace cannot be ignored, for good or ill. Unfortunately, in the wake of our long war with the Forest Elves and the Fallen, we have few warriors to spare. Her Majesty's decision, thus, is to prepare you, Lady Kizmel, as well as may be, and offer what aid we can to Swordmaster Kirito.”

“I… see. Well, I can't argue with that.” For a moment, Kizmel actually looked sheepish. “Honestly, Milady, I originally chose to accompany Kirito for personal reasons; but yes, from what I've heard from the Swordmasters their campaign will certainly have ramifications for our people, as well.”

That's an understatement, Kirito thought with a twinge. …Well, I knew that from the start. There's still time to figure out a solution, anyway; we're barely a third of the way up.

Shaking off gloomy thoughts of a distant future, he said aloud, “What kind of relics are these, exactly, Milady? Are they weapons, or…?”

“The exact nature of the relics is best discussed when you are closer to obtaining them, I believe,” Ryella told him. “There are three trials that must be overcome before you can open the Reliquary, and there is little sense in revealing secrets until it is clear you will be able to grasp them.”

Three trials… somehow, I knew this wasn't going to be so easy. I just hope this turns out to be worth it; the most we got out of the Third Floor's quest line was an extra warning about poison from the boss. There had been other things about that quest that made it all worth it, of course, but from the perspective of clearing the game, it had been more questionable.

“Three trials,” Kizmel repeated thoughtfully. “Can we complete them alone, Milady? Or should we be enlisting the aid of other Swordmasters?”

“These trials are only for those who have made a direct alliance between our two races,” Ryella answered, shaking her head. “They will require the knowledge of humans, and the skill and charms of the Dark Elves, the two in harmony. These trials were made by an alliance ages past, and must be cleared that way, as well.”

Kirito nodded. He'd expected that, just from the unique conditions for beginning the quest. “We can handle it,” he said confidently. “Where do we go first, Milady?”

“The Trial of the Brave lies some distance to the east,” she said, pointing out one of the windows. “Conquer its challenge, and you will be ready for the Trial of the Wise, to the west, and then finally the Trial of the Strong, beyond Ilden in the south. Return to me when you have proven yourselves, and I will tell you where to find the Reliquary, and what lies within.”

Trials of the Brave, Wise, and Strong, Kirito repeated to himself. East, west, and south. His quest log had automatically updated itself, but he knew it wouldn't hurt to memorize the information; sometimes the seconds it took just to consult the log counted. Brave, Wise, Strong… Why does that sound familiar? Waaiitt a minute…

His facepalm drew matching looks of surprise and confusion from both Dark Elves.

With everything else she had on her mind after the visit to Fort Renya, such as the oddly lack-witted behavior of the gate guards, it wasn't until they were nearly at the Trial of the Brave that Kizmel thought to question her partner's earlier reaction. As the trees thinned, giving them a glimpse of weathered stone walls, she shot him a questioning look. “I meant to ask, Kirito,” she began. “Was there something strange about Countess Ryella's explanation? Besides the obvious, of course.”

“Eh?” Obviously lost in thought himself, Kirito shook himself. “Oh… Well, it's just… the three trials reminded me of… another human legend. A powerful relic that could only be reached after getting proof of courage, power, and wisdom. A relic of an elf-like people, actually.”

That piqued Kizmel's interest. They'd already encountered more than one quest related to ancient history that both their peoples recalled, if only in myth and legend; the ongoing effort to restore the ancient Order came at once to mind. Then there had been matters such as the sword Sachi had taken from The Commandant, remembered in stories of the Swordmasters, but not the Dark Elves.

This was the first time she could recall that they'd been drawn into something related to her people that her partner seemed to recognize, yet she did not. Of course, it was just as likely that it was merely a Swordmaster myth that bore a coincidental resemblance to reality, but if there truly was a connection…

“Do you remember enough of the legend to help guide us through these trials?”

Kirito grimaced. “Probably not. There's at least a dozen versions of the story floating around; I know several of them pretty well, but the odds of any of them being that close to the truth—if it's really about this Reliquary? I don't really think…” He trailed off; they were coming into the clearing now, giving them a fuller view of their destination.

In its prime, Kizmel thought it had likely been a truly grand stronghold, fitting for an edifice built to guard the way to an artifact as powerful as Countess Ryella implied. Now, eons after the Great Separation, the fortress that contained the Trial of the Brave was clearly succumbing to the ravages of time. Its ramparts were crumbling, its walls cracked—yet despite all that, there was torchlight visible from its narrow windows, and the front gate stood solidly in their path.

“Nope,” Kirito said, after several moments' inspection. “Can't say that this looks familiar. Um… any idea how we get in? That gate looks pretty secure. Countess Ryella didn't give us any keys, or tell us where to look…”

“I would suggest we start by examining it,” Kizmel said, starting for the weathered stairs leading up to the gate. “There seem to be no monsters outside, so we can probably take our time.” As she climbed, she added thoughtfully, “By the way, the legends you know… what does lie at the end of our journey here?”

He quickly followed her, and despite her own observations he kept a wary eye on their surroundings, clearly ready for trouble. Probably a good idea, she thought; even if this place was safe, it was a good habit to maintain. He also didn't answer her question right away, focusing instead on examining the barred, securely-locked gate.

At length, peering through the narrow gaps in the bars, Kirito said, “According to most versions of the story? A very powerful weapon. It wasn't always the same, though, and I don't think that's all there is to it, here; I think there's a reason for it to be two people going through the trials. One human, one elf… If it's about an ancient alliance, it won't just be for one or the other of us.”

Kizmel nodded. “I agree. Likely the full truth hasn't survived in any legend; I would not be surprised if not even Countess Ryella knows it all, if this was a legacy shared between our people… Ah! I believe I've found something.”

He quickly joined her by the left side of the gate, where she was running armored fingertips over an inscription in the stone. “Is that… some kind of message? I can't read the language, whatever it is.”

“A Dark Elf script,” she told him, squinting at it; old as it was, it had faded as much as the rest of the structure. “Very old; I don't think even my people have used it for much since the Great Separation; we largely adopted one of yours long ago. It is used in enough formal writing that I can read it, however. Mostly, anyway… Ah, I believe I understand:

“Only with Determination does any journey begin. Only when Courage is proven are doors opened; to the timid, every gate is closed.

“Some journeys cannot be made alone. Those who wish to test their Bravery, Human craft is needed within; yet to enter, you must have the Elven power to elude the rays of the sun. Those who possess the first Keys, step forward, and prove your Courage within.”

Kirito nodded in comprehension. “…Okay. I think I actually understood that.” He was frowning, though. “Can we do it right now, though? If that's talking about what I think it is, I thought I remember you saying it works best around morning and evening.”

Kizmel smiled, oddly pleased he'd come to the same conclusion she had, and so easily. “I think it's worth trying. It may be at its best at those hours, but the Mistmoon Cloak can make us like spirits to the eye even in this light.”

“Good thing Asuna's not around to hear you talk about spirits,” he muttered. “Okay, then, let's give it a shot.”

The way Kirito blushed when he drew close enough for her to throw her cloak over both of them made her smile wider. It wasn't that she liked making him uncomfortable, really, but there was something endearing about his awkwardness around women, even after this long traveling with her, to say nothing of the fact that her armor was a solid barrier between their bodies.

Someday, I should perhaps ask him what kind of life he actually led, in his homeland, she mused, draping an arm across his shoulders to better draw the cloak closed. Most of the time, he comes across as mature as any Swordmaster, yet any time matters like this come up, that maturity and confidence vanishes.

It was an idle thought only, for now; whatever her friend's true birth, he was easily her equal in all respects besides social skills. Right now his skill in whatever trial awaited them beyond the gate was the important thing, and she was confident he wouldn't let her down.

Nor did she intend to fail him. So when she was sure the cloak's charm was as complete as it could be this time of day, rendering the two of them but a thin shade in the mid-afternoon light, Kizmel guided her partner straight for the gate, heedless of its imposing bars.

Obscured from light by the charm of the cloak, they slipped through the bars as if truly nothing but specters.

If Kirito had had any doubts left as to the inspiration for the current quest, they were squashed after three block puzzles and twice as many doors with one-time-use keys. By now, he was wondering if Kayaba might be subject to a copyright infringement claim on top of his grander crimes, or if a certain company had paid Argus to get early exposure in the VR market.

Or maybe just Cardinal not caring, come to think of it, he mused, cautiously approaching yet another locked door, in a corridor lit by flickering torchlight. Wouldn't be the first quest it's invented that got a little too close to that line… I guess Kayaba didn't include legal contracts in the programming.

Kirito snorted to himself at that thought. Kayaba had already killed over two thousand people for the sake of his “game”; why should he care about copyright law? It wasn't like he'd care about a fine on top of the life sentence he'd be serving anyway.

“I'm not sure what about this situation is so amusing, Kirito,” Kizmel remarked. She was keeping a wary eye on a side corridor as they passed; they'd already been attacked by large spiders more than once with little warning, and while the mobs here weren't as dangerous as those on the path to Ilden, they were definitely appropriate to their levels. “At least, I didn't think you were enjoying this much.”

She had certainly had some fun, if her smile was any indication. They'd needed to use her cloak to pass through two more doors since entering the Trial, and Kirito was beginning to worry Argo was rubbing off on her. At least, that was the most likely reason he could think of for Kizmel to be so cheerful at their enforced proximity.

“Just thinking about how close this really is to human legends,” he told her, shaking his head. “Just close enough for me to have a general idea of what's going on, not close enough for me to know what kind of traps or puzzles we might be dealing with here. Like this door.” He gestured at the completely featureless, heavy metal door they'd arrived at. “I don't suppose you see a keyhole here?”

“No,” she admitted after a brief examination. “It does not seem to resemble the doors we passed through via the cloak's charm, either.” Kizmel frowned. “Hm… I have heard of doors that can only be opened when the life force of their guards is completely extinguished. Perhaps there are foes nearby that we've missed?”

Kirito sighed. “That would fit with the stories I've heard… or there could be a stone in the walls here that's actually a hidden switch. I guess we'll have to backtrack and look around.” Irritated, he gave the door a solid rap with his fist, knowing that all it would produce was an [Immortal Object] message.

He jumped back in surprise when, instead, a menu popped into existence a few centimeters from the door.

“Interesting,” Kizmel said, leaning close. “That's Mystic Scribing, isn't it? I recognize the language… although I cannot read this particular message.”

Right, she probably only knows the bits of English used in regular system messages… if that. Kirito wasn't completely fluent in the language himself, but he was at least proficient enough to understand the message that the door had brought up. “It says, [Open], with yes or no options,” he said, shaking his head yet again. “Now I understand what the inscription outside meant about 'human craft'… Who'd have thought we'd find a door where all we had to do was knock?”

It really should've occurred to him, he realized a moment after casually pressing [Yes], that an abnormal door that was so easy to open might just lead to something abnormal and not easy. As it was, the first clue he had of his mistake came within a second of the heavy door rumbling aside.

A clue in the form of a chained flail speeding out, wrapping around his arm, and yanking him into the next room.

“Kirito!”

Kirito heard Kizmel's yell, but was a little too distracted to reply; he was more concerned with the enormous suit of armor that had pulled him in close, released the chain, and slammed a metal gauntlet into his gut. The blow knocked the unnecessary wind out of him and propelled him bodily toward one of the hard stone walls.

He hadn't survived as long as he had without being quick-witted and learning a thing or two about midair recovery, though; halfway through his flight, he had his sword out and jabbing at the floor, and in the extra time the friction bought him he twisted around to get his feet on the ground. In a shower of sparks from sword and bootheels alike, Kirito managed to bleed off his momentum a good half-meter from the wall.

Glancing up at his HP bar, though, his stomach clenched anyway. Just the initial punch from the armor had taken off a good ten percent of his health; turning his attention to the mob that had done it, he suddenly wasn't surprised. Just very, very concerned.

A dark crimson cursor, next to the name Black Knight. Beneath that information, a heavily-armored warrior with an equally heavy shield in one hand, and a huge sword that it was just now drawing from its back to replace the flail it had dropped. At its waist, a scabbard holding a slimmer blade, for now ignored.

There were also two of them. Given that Kirito had a fairly good idea of what, exactly, these Black Knights were based on, the fact that he and Kizmel both used relatively light blades suddenly didn't seem like such a good idea.

Okay, he thought, as Kizmel rushed into the room, just barely avoiding the second Knight's bastard sword, these things are really tough, and can kill me with just a few good hits. On the other hand—if these are what I think they are, I know how to fight them.

Fighting two of the enemies they were based on at once had always been a nerve-wracking task, but in those other games he'd never had backup. With his elven partner, they could do this.

“Kirito—” Kizmel began, drawing close enough to put her shield between him and the Knights.

“I know,” Kirito interrupted, speaking quickly. “I think I know these things, so—They hit hard, but they're slow. Dodge their swords, and try to get around behind them; they'll block pretty much everything from the front with those shields. Hit them in the back enough, and we should be able to cut the fasteners of their armor.”

She nodded. “Then let us begin—now!”

The Black Knight that had thrown Kirito around chose that moment to break the stillness, swinging its huge blade down while the other circled around; the two clearers threw themselves to either side, each trying to flank one of the Knights. It might've been more efficient to try and double-team one opponent, Kirito knew, but this way they wouldn't end up potentially sandwiched.

If fighting one of these things was bad, he knew, being in a position to be hit from front and back together was worse. The only “good” thing about this whole situation was that there wasn't yet a third; three Black Knights, if their inspiration was any clue, would've been nigh-unstoppable.

Kirito just had time to see Kizmel duck a brutal Horizontal from her foe before he was forced to dodge sideways himself, the Black Knight that seemed to have it in for him having brought its blade up from the floor in an Uppercut that came frighteningly close to splitting him in half. While inertia carried the enormous sword up over the Knight's head, he knew that put it in a perfect position to drop it back down on him if he gave it half a chance.

He had no intention of giving it that chance. As soon as the blade was above him, Kirito launched himself into a backflip—not to evade, but to smash his boot heel into the Black Knight's helmet in a Crescent Moon. The blow staggered the Knight, while Kirito landed on his free hand, threw himself upright again, and flung himself forward again. Forward, and to the Knight's right, hoping to get around behind.

There was time for one quick Horizontal, aimed with as much precision as he could manage in the moments he had, and Kirito's sword cut across one of the fasteners holding the Black Knight's waist armor in place. If he was right about how closely these mobs copied the source material, then—

He'd done more damage than he'd thought. The entirety of the Knight's waist armor fell away, leaving the area protected only by the layer of light chainmail beneath. An instant later, though, Kirito realized he'd miscalculated slightly: free of some of its own armor, the Knight turned a fraction faster than before, swinging its sword too fast for him to dodge.

He barely managed to get his sword back up in time to parry, and he winced at both the scream of metal sliding along metal and the way his HP was ground away even without a direct hit. It is so not fair that a sword that big is considered One-Handed!

Kirito had managed to avoid the worst of it, though, and when the bastard sword was past he ducked under its shield to deliver the swift back-and-forth cuts of a Horizontal Arc to the Knight's legs, severing its greaves. The loss of the armor caused it to stumble, giving him a chance to check on Kizmel's progress.

He looked over just in time to see her actually jumping on top of her foe's shield, using it to launch herself higher into the air in a forward somersault over its head. Her saber spun with her in a flicker of blue light, an aerial Sword Skill Kirito recognized as a Helmsplitter; powerful by its nature of attacking the enemy's head, but difficult to even attempt. The mere sight of it reminded him of Diavel's death, during which the self-proclaimed knight had tried and failed to initiate a midair skill himself.

Kizmel performed it flawlessly, and when she landed on the stone floor in a crouch behind the Black Knight, she promptly spun around to stab it repeatedly, rising with each of the first three blows, and at full height adding another three horizontally. Several of the fasteners for its heavy torso armor fell away from the Crucifixion, leaving it noticeably loose.

In the lag from her own skill, Kizmel glanced over at Kirito in turn, and her eyes widened. “Kirito, look out!”

Her shout and a bright yellow flash in the corner of his eye was all the warning he had. He'd only begun to turn when something impacted solidly on his flank, catapulting him toward the same wall he'd only narrowly avoided at the start of the fight.

“Gah!” Once again, Kirito managed to turn before he hit, but he only succeeded in taking the impact on his back instead of his head. He was left with a Tumble effect as a result, unable to move for a precious few seconds; he was suddenly grateful that the hit had knocked him flying so far.

He wasn't so happy to realize what the hit had been. In the split second before he struck the wall, he'd caught sight of a fading glow from the Black Knight's shield, not its sword. He'd never before encountered a Sword Skill from a shield, of all things. Certainly players occasionally bashed mobs that way to gain a little breathing space, but this was the first truly offensive use he'd ever encountered.

Powerful, too, he realized with a chill, glancing at his HP bar. Another hit like that, and I'm in the red.

That realization would've been enough on its own to get Kirito moving the instant the Tumble subsided. The cry of pain he heard a moment later from Kizmel, followed by her rolling into his line of sight, spurred him on more urgently.

The elf had been knocked away from her foe's sword, nearly cutting her in half with that one blow. Now even the Knight Kirito had been fighting turned its attention to her, as the closer target, and he quickly decided that was not going to be allowed.

With a wordless yell, he pushed off from the floor, swung his sword behind his right shoulder, and launched himself in a Sonic Leap at Kizmel's former target. He managed to come down behind it, his blade biting down on another of the clasps of its armor; a couple of frantic dodges later, escaping its wrath by a hair, Kirito took a chance on a normal swing of his sword and took off another.

For a second he was afraid he'd miscalculated again, and that the Black Knight was going to rip him in half in retaliation. Then, as it took a step forward, the last remaining fastener of its armor snapped under the strain, and the whole breastplate dropped to the floor in a loud clatter.

The Black Knight's response to that was more or less instant, but Kirito had anticipated its move. From the moment he realized what they were, he knew what was going to happen when its armor was reduced to just its helmet, so when it flung its shield to one side and hurled its huge sword at his face, he was already jumping sideways.

A similar series of crashing noises came from the direction of his original opponent, even as his current foe drew the lighter blade from its waist. Kizmel had regained her feet, and if she was wincing in pain to match the depletion of her HP bar in Kirito's vision, she wasn't letting it stop her; she'd managed to take out the other Black Knight's armor, and dodged the thrown blade as well as he had.

“Come, then!” she called to her target. “Let's end this!”

It might've been coincidence, or these mobs might've been keyed to respond to taunts. Either way, they both attacked at that moment, and Kirito was forced to dodge once again from a brutally-fast Slant.

They were faster without the armor, but Kirito was still feeling better about his and his partner's prospects now. With armor and shield gone, speed was the only advantage the Knights had left to them, and that was one stat he was fully prepared to bet his life on.

Stepping to one side of the Slant, he slapped the Knight's sword aside, then initiated a Sword Skill of his own: three slices from one side to the other and back, the Sharp Nail finally taking a noticeable bite out of the Knight's HP. In the race to recover from the movement penalty of their respective skills, the Knight was slightly faster, leaving Kirito no time to get out of the way; he did manage another parry, though, and while his own HP was chipped away by scratch damage, it wasn't nearly as bad as blocking the heavier blade.

As their blades screeched against each other, he caught a quick glimpse past, enough to see Kizmel bodily forcing aside her Knight's latest attack with her kite shield; her revenge was a lightning-quick Reaver to its throat, just beneath its helmet.

Recovering from the parry enough to launch a Horizontal Square at his own enemy, Kirito briefly found himself envious. A shield would've slowed him down, given his own fighting style, but he had to admit there was something to be said for having something useful in the off-hand.

And you wouldn't have been able to do that backflip right earlier, he reminded himself, as his sword finished tracing a blue rhombus in the air. Like I know what to do with a shield anyway!

There wasn't time for another Sword Skill for several moments after that. The Black Knight was no longer bothering with them, so he couldn't afford the movement penalty either, instead having to sneak in improvised thrusts and slashes where he could. Gradually, though, he was whittling down its HP, and though his own was getting far lower than he was comfortable with, the Black Knight was coming off the worse.

Kirito did consider it completely unfair that it barely flinched when he did manage to get in a Snake Bite, cutting its left arm clean off just below the shoulder. It only glanced down at the stump, shrugged, and redoubled its attack with its remaining arm.

“Kirito, Switch!”

He didn't question the sudden command. Immediately he pulled back his blade just before he could initiate his next Sword Skill, ducked past the Knight's sword, and leapt toward Kizmel's opponent, at the same moment she came at his from behind.

Unable to adjust to the sudden swapping of targets for a couple of seconds, the Knights were frozen by conflicting algorithms just long enough for Kizmel's spinning Treble Scythe to tear up the back of one and through its neck, while Kirito's Savage Fulcrum did the same to the other.

Silence filled the room for a split second. Then, with a low, rumbling groan, both Black Knights shattered into azure polygons and faded away.

Panting with exertion, despite his tireless virtual avatar, Kirito slowly drew himself upright again, performed his usual flourish, and sheathed his sword. “Well,” he said to Kizmel. “I didn't expect that. I should've, though.”

“You knew enough to know how to fight them,” she pointed out, slipping her own saber back into its scabbard. “We should be more cautious in the future, however.” She winced, pressing a hand to her side. “I fear I took more injury than I expected in that battle.”

He grimaced; she acted so human most of the time that he still managed to forget, all too often, that unlike players she was fully capable of feeling pain. Damn you for that, Kayaba. Bad enough what you did to us… He dug into a belt pouch quickly, and tossed the potion he withdrew over to her. “Sorry about that, Kizmel,” he said sincerely, as he dug out another for himself.

“I was careless, myself,” she said, gratefully downing the healing item. “Ah… much better, thank you. Well, shall we see what they were guarding?”

“Right.” In the heat of the battle, Kirito hadn't even noticed, but there was an ornate chest sitting against one wall, not too far from an equally-ornate door. From the slowly-fading glow, he suspected it had been designed to unlock only once the Black Knights were both dead.

Crossing to it, he carefully pried it open—keeping his face well back, in case it proved to be yet another trap of some kind. This time caution proved unnecessary; as he'd somewhat suspected, there was only one thing inside the chest, and not at all dangerous.

“I think this would be a 'Big Key',” he said, pulling it out with a rueful smile.

Kizmel shot him a narrow-eyed glance. “It is certainly large… but I suspect that's not exactly what you meant.”

“In-joke about the legends this is obviously related to; I'll tell you later.” Kirito looked over the door. “I don't think it's a stretch to say this goes to that door.”

“Most likely,” she agreed, eyeing the door warily. “What do you suppose it beyond it? Just the 'proof' we're supposed to obtain here?”

“Probably won't be that easy.” He glanced up at the HP bars again, noting that both had recovered nicely. “If this is anything like the legends… there's probably something nasty on the other side. Those Black Knights won't be the last challenge here.”

Kizmel nodded slowly. “You're probably right. We'd best be careful—but I see no reason to delay. Our mission will not be complete until we pass whatever trial lies ahead.”

“Yeah.” Kirito checked the HP figures on more time, then walked to the door and slid the key into the ominously-prominent lock. “Okay, here goes nothing,” he said, and turned the key.

“Nothing” was almost exactly what they found in the next room. They went in preparing for a fight, and on the other side of the door was only another pair of doors. Kizmel actually found herself suppressing a laugh at the way Kirito hesitated, stared warily at the doors, and then lowered his sword with a sigh.

“Okay,” he said after a moment. “I guess I should've expected things wouldn't be that predictable. …Think those are the same kind of doors as earlier?”

“Probably.” The door on the right was built of the same bars as the Trial's front gate, while the one on the left was as featureless as the door that had led into the chamber with the Black Knights. “What do you think we're meant to do here, Kirito?”

Kizmel could think of three possibilities, herself. It might be that they were supposed to clear one room, then the other; or, it was very possible that the intention was for them to choose just one, with the wrong choice presumably leading to a trap of some kind. Or…

“Those doors are too narrow for more than one person,” Kirito said slowly. “The Swordmaster door is one thing, but the Dark Elf doors don't 'open' at all; we have to go through those together. So…”

“We're likely intended to each go through one of them,” she finished. “It is a Trial of Bravery, so I suppose it makes some sense. Both our peoples' strengths are needed to reach this place, and then from here, we prove our courage in our own ways.”

“That's what I was thinking, too.” He grimaced. “I don't like it.”

Privately, neither did Kizmel. Even so, she shook her head. “That's very possibly the point, my friend. Like it or not, this is the only way forward; if we turn back, we fail the Trial.”

“…Yeah. You're right.” Taking a deep breath, Kirito nodded to her. “Be careful, Kizmel.”

“The same to you, Kirito.”

Together, they stepped to their respective doors. Kirito tapped the surface of his to conjure up the Mystic Scribing that governed it, as Kizmel drew her Mistmoon Cloak around herself, disappearing completely in the Trial's torchlight. When the Swordmaster door slide aside for her partner, she stepped through the ethereal surface of the Dark Elf gateway.

This time, even she found the result decidedly anticlimactic. The very first thing she noticed in the next room was that Kirito was not two meters from her, his door having led him to the very same place as hers. He jumped in surprise when she swept her cloak back again, then sighed.

“Yes,” Kizmel agreed, before he could say anything. “This is… not what I was expecting, either.”

The chamber was, admittedly, more impressive than the antechamber they'd just come through. Not quite as large as the rooms the Pillar Guardians laired in, but still quite broad, with ancient murals on the walls depicting winged figures, lit by brighter torches than the rest of the ruin had used. At the far end, a large chest sat in an alcove, protected by iron-framed glass doors; on one side Kizmel could see dark cloth folded neatly, while on the other there seemed to be a hollow for an object to be placed.

There was no sign whatsoever of any foe, not even any darkened spaces like the place The Commandant and his Knights had used as a trap.

“The doors you stepped through were but the final proof of your alliance, not the Trial itself. That lies within this chamber, Kirito, Lady Kizmel.”

Kirito nearly hit the ceiling when the voice spoke from nowhere, and when Kizmel glanced at him she was startled to see his face had taken on a pale, frightened look. “Wh-what the hell…?!” His eyes darted about the room, then fixed on something, and his complexion turned paler still.

When she turned to follow his gaze, she discovered they were no longer alone in that chamber. Halfway between them and the alcove at the far end, a young man in light armor had appeared; he bore a shield on his back, a sword much like Kirito's slung at his left hip, and his hair was a startling shade of blue.

“Impossible,” Kirito whispered. “Diavel…?”

Kizmel inhaled sharply. She'd never met Diavel, but her partner had spoken of him from time to time. A strong, charismatic Swordmaster who, while apparently not as pure and selfless as he presented himself, had nonetheless genuinely led the Swordmasters through most of their first great battle in Aincrad.

His death, she recalled, had nearly destroyed that effort, and while the Swordmasters had won through and persevered, it was only with the rise of the Knights of Blood and Heathcliff that a comparable leader had appeared to take Diavel's place.

“I am not Diavel,” the swordsman said, and as he spoke Kizmel noticed he was slightly translucent, like a spirit. “Not as he was in life. But in this place, for this Trial—for the two of you—the memory of me is fitting, I think. For one of you, anyway.”

Kirito swallowed hard. “I… I don't understand…”

“You seek more than you know, Kirito. As such, you will be tested in ways you may not even realize, and I am part of your Trial.” Diavel inclined his head toward Kizmel. “You, Lady Kizmel, will have your chance to be tested so, but that is not part of your Trial of Bravery.”

“I will… take your word for it, Swordmaster Diavel,” she said warily. “Then… what is the Trial that stands before us now?”

“What you seek to claim is of great significance—yet it will come at a price, to both of you. There are virtues you must embody, to have any hope of attaining the rewards of such a quest. The first of these is Bravery: you must prove that you have what it takes to press on against adversity and loss; without determination, you will never reach the challenges that require Wisdom or Strength of arms.

“The Trial of the Brave knows its challengers. The test before you is simple—but don't mistake that for being easy.”

So far, Kizmel was only confused and uncertain. Kirito, she thought, had the look of someone who was expecting to be struck down by a vengeful ghost at any moment. “What… is this test, Diavel? Some kind of boss monster?”

“Your bravery in the face of monsters is well-proven, Kirito,” Diavel replied, shaking his head. “From the day you rescued a raid from my death… although that raid isn't actually unrelated.” He fixed Kirito with a hard, sober stare. “Kirito. You led that raid to victory, despite the panic my death caused. Then, afterward, you took it upon yourself to stop a witch hunt, even though it made you, personally, a bigger target.

“Yet I wonder—how long could you have kept going, had the memory of that battle not faded? If more of the thousands of frightened players had known of the gambit you took, more than just the handful who were there, and saw how your subsequent actions belied your claims of villainy?”

Kirito shivered. “I… I don't…”

“In the end, memories of the hate of beta testers faded, especially as the growing skill and knowledge of the player population as a whole made the distinction harder to make out.” Diavel's shade was not harsh, but his words were firm, inexorable. “How well would you have borne it, had there been a mark that kept that knowledge fresh in the minds of those frightened people?

“After all, as we both know, you're no knight, and no hero. In the world we came from, you hardly even left your room, barely even speaking to your own family. You survived by isolation, unknown to others, protected by anonymity. You proved against Illfang that for brief moments of dire need, you can stand tall, and carry the weight of a few dozens' hatred.

“Could such a boy carry on, if those around him despised him?”

Had Kirito not possessed the tremendous physical fortitude of a Swordmaster, Kizmel would've been very afraid he was going to collapse on the spot. Diavel's words had clearly struck him in ways she couldn't even imagine; his cool deconstruction relied on the realities of the world the Swordmasters came from, which Kizmel could only dimly grasp.

There was some small softening of the shade's expression now, though. Almost… pity, she thought. “Whether this quest, or another in the future, Kirito, that is a question you must answer. You simply aren't capable of remaining in the shadows, not if you keep going as you have.”

“…I'm… not some kind of hero…” Kirito got out, voice barely a whisper. “I'm not the kind of guy to… take the spotlight…”

“Are you certain? You certainly captured everyone's attention well enough when I died. If you stay on your course, Kirito, you will be either a hero or a villain in the eyes of the Swordmasters. You need to face that now, or you'll never be able to move forward.” Then, abruptly, Diavel turned to Kizmel. “Now you, My Lady… you face a different quandary.”

She took a deep breath, and faced the shade squarely. “And that is, Swordmaster Diavel?”

“You are a Dark Elf, fighting for the cause of humans,” he told her. “Indeed, you've pledged to aid not merely humans, but Swordmasters, who aren't even of your world; their—our—goal is at least as much to simply go home as it is to conquer the evil that grips the Steel Castle. While I can't complain about your choice to aid the one who made my sacrifice mean something, the path it's set you on has its own price.”

There were several ways that could be taken; the one that came most readily to Kizmel's mind was that the closer she and Kirito became, the more painful it would be when he inevitably returned to his own world. It was a thought she'd tried increasingly hard to keep buried, in recent months. “I'm… aware of the potential cost, Swordmaster Diavel,” she said quietly.

“Are you? Perhaps not, Lady Kizmel.” Diavel turned and began to pace, hands clasped behind his back. “There are things about Kirito, and his nature, that you still don't understand. Things you can't, until you begin to see the truth for yourself. Some of it, perhaps, you'll see on this very quest—but even reaching that level of understanding may cost you dearly. Come, let me show you.”

He led an uneasy Kizmel, and a pale, anxious Kirito, over to the alcove closed off by glass. Now, closer in, Kizmel could see that the folded cloth was a heavy black coat, with a stylized “B” embroidered on its back and both shoulders. On the other side, the hollow basin seemed just large enough to hold a piece of jewelry—and was sloped so that whatever was placed in it would fall away in the wall.

“You're a Pagoda Knight, Lady Kizmel, in service to the Queen of the Dark Elves,” Diavel said. “Though she's given you leave to aid Kirito indefinitely, I wonder how well you can? To truly understand Kirito, and the Swordmasters, you'll need to see the world through their eyes, and as a Pagoda Knight there are certain ways you'll always be shackled.

“The symbol of courage, the Bravery Pendant, lies beyond the glass, Kirito, Lady Kizmel. Only acts of Bravery will open it: acknowledgment of a willingness to become a symbol, be it of hope or hate—and the willingness to sacrifice much of what you are, in order to see what may be.”

Kizmel could see, now, what Diavel meant, without any further explanation. He was telling her that to see the world through a Swordmaster's eyes, she might have to exchange it for the ties to her own people. As the Swordmasters had been deprived of so much to come to her world, if she wanted to understand theirs, she could well be called on to make an equivalent sacrifice.

Which meant that the hollow leading into the stone wall was meant to accept one, particular token.

“The choice is yours,” Diavel said, his voice gentler now. “Both of you could leave this place now, and continue the fight to clear Aincrad in the way you have been. This isn't something you need to face right now, in this place.”

Kizmel shared a long look with Kirito. She was relieved to see his complexion had darkened a few shades closer to healthy, but she could see in his eyes the same recognition of what was being asked of them as she had. Just as she could see that he'd thought of the same thing she had.

Her partner tried to speak, coughed to clear his throat, and tried again. “If we don't face it here, we'll have to face it somewhere down the line, won't we, Diavel?”

“I can hardly predict the future, Kirito,” Diavel replied, smiling wryly. “After all, I did die, didn't I? …But yes, I'd think so. As long as you're the kind of person who would step forward to turn a rout into a victory, all by yourself.”

“It wasn't exactly by myself,” Kirito pointed out. “I had Asuna with me.”

“Just as you have me, now.” Coming to a decision, Kizmel abruptly reached up and tapped at the clasp of her cloak, banishing it and her armor in a flash of light, leaving only her tights and tunic—and her hands bare. “Her Majesty has other Knights to call on, if the Kingdom is in danger. I will not abandon my friend.” Before she could second-guess herself, she pulled off the ring that her Queen had granted her when she was knighted, placed it in the hollow basin, and let it fall out of sight into the wall.

No small sacrifice, that. Seeing the look on Kirito's face, though, reminded her of exactly why she was so determined to hold to her course, and learn more of the Swordmasters who fought for the freedom of Aincrad, and from it—especially the two who had worked so hard for her own people, and her specifically.

“Well, then,” he said, meeting her eyes, “I guess I can't just turn away now, can I?” He swept his hand through the air to bring up his Mystic “menu”, turning to Diavel in the process. “Honestly, Diavel, I can't say for sure how long I can keep going, if the other players hate me. Like you said, I'm just a 'boy'… but as long as I can hold up, I have to. I've got promises to keep, to you, to Asuna… and to Kizmel.” A few touches on immaterial writing, and his coat flared and vanished.

When it was gone, Kirito picked up the branded coat; with another flash, it went from his hand to settling on his shoulders, billowing briefly in a sourceless wind.

As the glass doors silently swung open, Diavel smiled at them. “Few things are braver than stepping forward without knowing if you can remain standing,” he said. “Or being willing to cast aside the certainty of the past for an uncertain future. Take your reward, Kirito, Lady Kizmel, with pride.”

Coming to silent agreement with a glance, the two of them moved forward together, and pushed open the chest's lid as one. Inside, resting in red velvet, lay the prize they'd come so far to obtain.

Kirito, though, tilted his head in apparent consternation, turning to look back at Diavel. “…I thought there was supposed to be one pendant, Diavel.”

The knight's shade laughed. “You're not the Hero of Time, Kirito. Two partners, two pendants. Surely you should've expected another change, at the very end? Go on, put them on.”

Shaking his head, Kirito returned his attention to the chest. Together with Kizmel, he lifted one of the emerald pendants and hung it around his neck; as soon as both were firmly in place, they flared brightly, briefly blinding them.

When the glow faded, Kizmel was startled to see Kirito's previous coat was in place, with no trace of the “B” to be seen. Likewise, she found herself back in her full armor and cloak again—and the ring that was proof of her Knighthood was back on her finger.

Diavel smiled at their expressions. “The important thing, my friends, was the act of Bravery; this Trial was to prove you could make such sacrifices, not to demand them of you now. Kirito's, in particular, was as much symbolic as anything else. After all, what's the point of wearing such a ridiculous coat?” He sobered. “Which is not to say that this quest will not demand such of you by the end. What you receive in the Reliquary will be powerful—but power always comes at a cost. Remember this, when the time comes.”

“We will,” Kizmel said softly, looking down at the ring once again adorning her hand.

“Yeah…” Kirito's inspection was of the pendant he wore; perhaps realizing, she thought, that it alone was bound to provoke questions when next they met with other Swordmasters. Then he looked back up at the shade, shadows in his eyes. “Diavel? …What are you?”

Diavel shrugged. “A remnant, Kirito. Fragments of memories, caught by a crimson bird… If you really want to understand it all, I'd give you the same advice I will your partner: keep searching. If you want the best of both worlds, you'll need to find certain answers, before the curtain falls on the Steel Castle's stage.” He stepped back, beginning to fade from translucent to completely transparent. “Those are questions for another day. For now, seek out the Trial of the Wise, and prove you can find those answers…”

By the time they stepped back out of the Trial of the Brave, evening was closing in. Normally, by this time, Kirito would hardly be tired at all; he'd run quests well past midnight sometimes, both with Asuna and with Kizmel. Tonight, though, he felt almost as drained as he had the last day with the Black Cats.

“I'd advise retiring for the night, Kirito,” Kizmel said, moving a little bit away from him once they were past the charmed gate. “The battle with the Black Knights was quite tiring as it was. The actual Trial…”

“Yeah. I can't say I was expecting that.” The ghost of Diavel—which he thought was some subroutine of Cardinal using Diavel's avatar and records of the battle with Illfang—wasn't something he'd been remotely prepared for, even after it became plain Kayaba had taken liberties with the usual progression.

“For now, I'd suggest we ask shelter at Fort Renya; it's closer than Mydo, and I believe Countess Ryella would raise no objection.” She started down the steps leading to the forest path, then stopped when he failed to follow. “Kirito?”

He shook himself. “Sorry, Kizmel.” Kirito hurried to catch up, suddenly eager to put the ruins behind him. “It's just… Seeing Diavel again was kinda startling.”

“I would be surprised if it wasn't.” When their strides had matched, Kizmel glanced at him sidelong. “If I know you, though, that wasn't the only thing that bothered you about it. Nor just the Trial itself.”

“…No.” Not that the Trial had been fun; Kirito considered the gag with the “B” coat to be a particularly cruel joke, on top of forcing him to face the possibility of a repeat of Illfang's aftermath. It was something he'd faced before, though, and whatever happened, he was confident he wouldn't have to face it completely alone. Just as back then, there was Asuna, Argo, and Agil; even Klein, if he could put aside his own guilt… and Sachi.

Not to forget Kizmel, either. Not even a little.

The real fright, in a lot of ways, had been part of “Diavel's” reasoning.

“…He knew about my life back home,” Kirito said, realizing he'd been silent long enough for them to have gotten well into the forest again. “I mean, it could just be a good guess—people like me probably make up a lot of the Swordmasters, really—but… put it together with how this whole thing seems to be about the two of us, specifically? …It makes me nervous.”

Kizmel lifted one eyebrow, a small smile gracing her lips. “You don't suppose it could simply be our destiny?”

He snorted. “Do you?”

“…Perhaps not,” she admitted. “Honestly, there are… certain things bothering me, as well.” She came to an abrupt halt, turning to face him directly. “But that's exactly why I'm going to keep going, Kirito. If we stop now, we will never see the truth behind any of this. I want—no, I need to see where this path takes us. Even if I do have to make sacrifices, even if the truth proves to be frightening, I have to know.”

The declaration struck a nerve for Kirito, knowing as he did just what one of those truths was, and how shattering it had the potential to be for his friend. Even so, he couldn't disagree; for all he knew, the questions he had would have answers just as frightening for him. Especially “Diavel's” comment about the “best of both worlds”.

Ever since he'd met Kizmel, he'd known there were things about SAO that weren't quite as expected. Mysteries that probably had mundane explanations—but which might not.

“The answers are there, Kirito. And we can find them, together.” Smiling, Kizmel raising one hand, beginning a gesture he and Asuna had taught her almost the first day of their acquaintance. “We passed this Trial, didn't we? Then let us pass the next, as well, and those that come after. Who knows? Perhaps the answers will be happier than we can imagine now.”

You know… maybe she's right. It's not like everything I've learned, everything I've experienced, in this world has been bad, right? Finding himself smiling in return, Kirito gave his partner's hand a hearty slap. “Okay, then. Let's go find them.”

Chapter 7: Chapter VII: Minuet of Forest II

Chapter Text

Chapter VII: Minuet of Forest II

October 4th, 2023

“Life's never boring when you're around, Kii-bou, I'll give ya that.” Argo took a bite of her cheesecake, swallowed, and shook her head in obvious amusem*nt. “Trials to prove courage, wisdom, and strength? Powerful ancient artifact at the end? Heh. You guys do know what you've stumbled on, don't ya?”

Kirito, having decided not to skip directly to dessert the way the info broker had, took his time chewing his bagel before he answered. “Yeah,” he said when he'd finished, “that was kind of obvious by the time we were halfway through the first dungeon.” He lowered his gaze to his plate, remembering what happened after that. “It wasn't a boss battle at the end of it, though. We… saw a ghost.”

She set her fork down on her plate, favoring him with an unusually serious expression. “Sounds heavy, Kii-bou. C'mon, tell Argo-nee-chan all about it.” A trace of a grin reappeared, showing just a hint of canine teeth. “Usual rate, o'course. Bonus if it's really juicy.”

A forkful of omelet halfway to her mouth, Kizmel sighed. “It never ceases to amaze me the kind of information you're willing to pay for, Argo. You yourself said this quest was unlikely to be of any use to other Swordmasters, and in this case I don't even see any potential blackmail material.”

“You do know me, Kii-chan! You're catchin' on.” Argo's grin returned in full. “Like I've said before, you'd be surprised what comes in handy. So spill! I can tell you're both just dying to hear what I've got to say about it all.”

It was Kirito's turn to sigh, but he didn't deny it. At the outset, and most of the way through the Trial of the Brave, the quest they'd received at Fort Renya had seemed reasonably straightforward; it had convinced Kirito that Kayaba had no more scruples about business practices than any other kind of morality, but it had at least been—he thought—predictable.

Right up until the expected boss fight to receive the Pendant of Bravery had turned out to be a test of character, given by what looked remarkably like the ghost of the martyred first raid leader, Diavel. That by itself might not have bothered him too much—other than the fact that it made it seem even more like the whole quest had been very specifically designed for a particular pair of clearers—since it did stand to reason that Cardinal would have access to the avatar data even of dead players.

But the way he seemed to know about my life offline… that wasn't normal. I've never talked to anybody about that in-game—not even Asuna or Kizmel. I'd like to think it was just lucky guesses based on the game's target demographic, but…

Well, that was why he and Kizmel had headed back to Mydo, after spending the night at Fort Renya. If anyone had any answers, it would be Argo the Rat, the extent of whose full sources and knowledge base even Kirito couldn't guess at. He'd sent a message asking for a meeting as soon as they'd settled into the Fort's barracks for the night, and so they'd come back to the central human town at first light.

Early as it was, there were other players around the NPC restaurant, unlike the place in Ilden they'd met at last time. Kirito had even noticed a couple of players in the white and red of the Knights of Blood, obviously getting ready for a day's push toward reaching the labyrinth leading up to the Thirty-Eighth Floor. He didn't recognize either of them, but then he'd mostly kept his distance from guilds in general since the dissolution of the Black Cats.

“Well, Kii-bou,” Argo said, when he and Kizmel had finished the tale up to that point, “I gotta admit, that's a new one on me. And honestly, I think it just supports my talk yesterday that this might not be a quest you should be taking on at all. This is really starting to smell fishy. But,” she continued, before either of them could retort, “I can already tell you ain't stopping now.”

“No,” Kizmel said quietly. “Leaving aside my duty to my people—there is something going on that I need to face. I'm certain Swordmaster Diavel was right about that.”

“No turning back now,” Kirito agreed. “We have to know, Argo. So… instead of the 'usual rate', how about a story for a story? I'd just be paying you back what you'd be paying us, anyway.”

Argo grinned again. “You are getting the hang of this, Kii-bou. Good thing you're hangin' out with elves half the time, instead of hunting down every last lead, or I might have some competition.” She sobered, and bought herself a moment with one last bite of cheesecake. “Awright. I dunno about any 'ghosts' that know things they shouldn't. I do know, though, that there's been a few… weird things popping up, here and there. Rumors mostly, but—turns out this ain't the only thing going on that's got to do with only certain people.”

Kirito leaned forward, intent. “Like what?”

“You know about 'extra' skills, right? Ones that don't show up from regular leveling up or skill-grinding?”

He nodded. Around the time he, Asuna, and Kizmel had assaulted the Fallen Elf stronghold on the Ninth Floor, he'd gotten a message from Klein asking if he had any idea where to get Katana-type weapons. That the weapon type was usable by players wasn't itself particularly surprising, but up till then no one had figured out how to gain the required skill.

As far as Kirito knew, the exact conditions still weren't known, but it had been determined that a player could get it consistently if they spent enough time leveling the “Curved Sword” Skill; the precise skill level seemed random, but it was reliably within a certain range.

One or two others had been discovered since then, he'd heard, and under the same vague conditions. That was old news, though, so he wasn't quite sure why she'd brought it up.

Seeing the look on his face, Argo waved a hand. “It's relevant, Kii-bou, trust me. Y'see, the thing is… there's another skill that's turned up without explanation. Doesn't seem to have anything to do with regular skills, and so far, only one person has it—and like this quest you've gotten yourself into, it's suspiciously appropriate to the one who got it.”

Kizmel's eyebrows went up in obvious interest. “How so, Argo?”

“Ah. Now, the details, you guys will have to pay extra for,” the Rat said, leaning back in her chair. “They're kinda trying to keep it quiet for a little while. You'll prolly see it when the boss raid comes around, though, and it ain't the specifics so much as the fact of it that matters here, so… far be it from me to turn down a profit, but maybe you wanna save a little Cor for now.”

Kirito eyed her suspiciously. “If you're suggesting we not pay you… you must be looking forward to the looks on our faces, aren't you? I can't think of anything else that'd be worth for you.”

“Me? Perish the thought, Kii-bou! I'm just trying to run a generous business.” The grin gave the lie to her words, but Argo only waved a hand again, as if it didn't matter. “'Sides, I still think what you've got going on is lots more interesting. So, back on topic, I'm thinking you want info on the route to this 'Trial of the Wise', yeah?”

He nodded. The first edition of Argo's guide for the floor had covered the eastern forest surrounding the Trial of the Brave well enough, as several other early quests had dealt with the area; much less had been known of the regions west of Mydo at that point. Given the kind of trouble he knew lay on the road to Ilden in the south, he and his partner both wanted any advance info they could get.

Like if there's something like the Drunk Apes from the Thirty-Fifth Floor. Leveled up a bit, those could be nasty again.

Kirito started to say as much, but just as he opened his mouth someone else beat him to the punch. “So you finally show your face, Kirito? I'd wondered; normally you and your… partner are ahead of the pack at the start of exploring a new floor. You haven't been this hard to find since you came back from your sojourn on the lower floors last month.”

He stifled a sigh. That voice, he knew all too well, and glancing up, he saw he was right. Long blue hair, silver plate armor, blue tunic… the scimitar that completed the ensemble was fancier than the last one Kirito had seen, but it was still perfectly recognizable.

So was the look on the man's face, which seemed to be a genuine attempt at friendliness, but to Kirito's eyes usually had more than a trace of condescension in it; though this time, there seemed a darker shadow in it.

“Guildmaster Lind,” Kizmel said, before Kirito could make any reply. “It's good to see you well.”

“Likewise, Lady Kizmel,” Lind said, bowing graciously. The Divine Dragons Alliance leader's attention immediately returned to Kirito, though, with a raised eyebrow directed at the black-clad swordsman. “If you're meeting with Argo, I assume you're in need of information to… catch up, after whatever has had your attention this time?”

“Something like that,” Kirito replied noncommittally. Lind's air of I know best had been irritating as far back as when the DDA and ALS competed for top spot in the clearing group; since the KoB had begun to take a firm lead, it had only gotten worse. “It's always a good idea to touch base with her when we have the chance, don't you think?”

“Her information is generally good,” Lind acknowledged. “Though with her prices, it can be advantageous to… distribute the costs, in my experience. There are ways to make things easier on yourself, you know.”

This, again? Kirito groaned inwardly. Why now? I thought once Kizmel joined up with me, he'd given that up!

“I'm sittin' right here, ya know,” Argo put in, rolling her eyes. “Not that it's any of your business, Lind, but I can tell ya right now Kii-bou doesn't have any problems meeting my prices. Matter of fact, half the time—like now—he pays me with information—when exactly was the last time you had anything like that to barter?”

Lind's face tightened, losing a bit of his affability, but he rallied quickly enough. “Fair enough, Argo. I'm just suggesting it would be more efficient to do things as a group, the way even Kirito's former partner has. Especially since it seems there are more dangers than ever, these days.”

PKers, Kirito thought with a shiver. That's right, Argo said Naga was murdered…

“You ask me, Kii-bou's as safe as he can be with the help he's got. Lots more 'efficient', that's for sure.” Argo waved a dismissive hand. “Unless you got something else to say, Lind, would ya let us get back to business here? Face it, yer princess is in another castle.”

The DDA master looked at her for a moment, then shrugged; a hint of annoyance slipped through, despite his best efforts. “Sorry for getting in the way, then. I trust there'll at least be something interesting in the next edition of your guide, if Kirito's been so busy.”

With an admirably knightly bow, Lind turned to leave, at which point the various players who'd turned to watch the encounter also seemed to lose interest.

“I see he still hasn't changed,” Kizmel remarked when he'd gone, shaking her head. “…What princess, Argo?”

“Old joke from back home,” Argo said, turning her attention back to her second slice of cheesecake. “Before Kii-bou's time, so I'm not surprised he hasn't mentioned it…”

“I'm pretty sure you're not much older than I am, Argo,” Kirito pointed out. “That 'joke' has got to be, what, thirty, forty years old? You don't look…” Too late, Kizmel took a page from Asuna's book and kicked his leg under the table, reminding him far too belatedly the dangers of that particular topic, especially with girls. The exasperated look his partner favored him with only added to his sense of impending doom.

Surprisingly, Argo only grinned at him. “Oho? Well, Kii-bou, if you really wanna know, you know how it works: you got the Cor, it's for sale. My age, favorite food, three sizes…”

“It's not important!” he said hastily. The frightening thing was, for all he knew she was entirely serious; supposedly, the identities of beta testers were the only things she wouldn't sell. Right now, next to his all-too-mischievous Dark Elf partner, he had no intention whatsoever of testing that. “Right! About the path to the Trial of the Wise…?”

The info broker's smirk grew; the fact that Kizmel seemed to be smiling as well, just a little, made him distinctly uneasy. “O'course, the trails to the west. So happens, Kii-bou, that I've already gotten word of an old ruin that nobody can seem to figure out how to get into, so I bet I know just where to send ya. As fer the route there… I got one piece of advice for you.”

Kizmel leaned forward, obviously intrigued by Argo's continued—nay, increasing—mirth. “And that advice is…?”

There were fangs in that grin now, Kirito was sure of it. “One word, Kii-chan: soap.”

Manning the stall he'd gotten set up in Mydo's shopping district, Agil raised an eyebrow at his customers' large purchase order. “There's a story here, ain't there, Kirito. Last time I saw you two this desperate for soap, you'd just been at ground zero of a bunch of exploding goats. Right now, you ain't even smudged.”

Considerably more sober than at the height of Argo's trolling, Kizmel grimaced. “As Kirito might say, Agil, this time we 'read the fine print'. Or rather, Argo told us quite specifically some of what we can expect to deal with on the road we're traveling today. When Argo advises something like this…”

“Better to have more than we need than less,” Kirito finished, signing over an amount of Cor that otherwise might've bought a couple of dozen healing potions without complaint, in return for a large bag of the highest-quality soap currently available. “She was looking way too happy about the whole thing.”

“Ha! Now you've really got me curious.” Agil grinned. “Might just have to buy that story from the Rat, later… Come again if you need more! I'll be here.”

Argo has a gift for understatement, Kizmel thought, slogging determinedly down what Kirito's immaterial map insisted, against all evidence, was a road. Soap, indeed. Trying to wash all this mud off my armor and cloak is going to be a challenge by itself.

The western “road” that Countess Ryella had said led to the Trial of the Wise was one of the first that the clearing group had investigated, on arrival at the Thirty-Seventh Floor. As such, Argo's information included meticulous maps—which was the only reason she and her partner had any idea where they were going. The road was only visible as such at the few points it reached higher ground; otherwise, it was only a jagged line on a map, leading straight through a swamp.

Kizmel was coated up to the bottoms of her thighs in mud already, and from the unpleasant squelching it had gotten into her boots, as well. Kirito's pants were similarly stained, and from his grimace he was no happier than she. When another of the large snakes that inhabited the bog slithered a little too close and raised its head just enough, he took obvious pleasure in venting his frustrations by lopping said head off with a well-placed Horizontal.

“A swamp,” he groused, inspecting his sword carefully for mud. “That's just… It's almost making me nostalgic for the Seventh Floor. At least the jungle was only humid. Mud up to our knees, poisonous constrictors… What next, rain?” He looked up quickly at that, as if expecting his words to have summoned up a storm that very instant.

It was difficult to tell through the heavy foliage of the swamp, but no deluge followed; Kizmel chuckled at the way Kirito continued to stare distrustfully upward for a few moments anyway. For her part, she might almost have welcomed a little rain, if only to wash some of the mud off. Certainly, it wasn't going to make road conditions any worse at this point.

“At least we shouldn't be dealing with this for long,” she said, another dozen meters or so down the road. “From what Argo said, after we've conquered this Trial we should be focusing on preparing ourselves for the greater battle to come, at least for a few days.”

A loud sigh from her partner. “True enough. Never thought I'd be grateful for a field boss… I do kinda hate taking time off from this quest for it, though.”

“The quest for the Reliquary is, itself, for the sake of conquering the Pillars,” she reminded him. “Delaying the retrieval of its treasures to aid in clearing the way to this floor's Pillar is no diversion from our cause; and from what Argo's information said, every Swordmaster available will be needed.”

Usually, the guardian creatures Swordmasters referred to as “field bosses” were singular monsters of great power; strong, often large, but thoroughly outnumbered by a properly prepared raid. Indications from some of the more daring clearers' explorations, however, were that a mob of merely “elite” status was waiting in the broad clearing in the northeast of the floor—but had gathered to itself a veritable army of lesser foes.

If the camp laid out across the path that led most directly to the Pillar was any indication, between three and five hundred Wood Goblins were waiting for the Swordmasters. Individually they would likely be no match for any Swordmaster of appropriate skill and equipment to the Thirty-Seventh Floor, but the sheer numbers were certainly daunting.

“I guess you've got a point there,” Kirito admitted now. “I could wish we'd managed to get clear to the Reliquary first—we could use a little more power—but, eh. We'll manage.”

“And it at least is nowhere near the swamp.” Kizmel glanced down at her boots in disgust, wrenching one foot, then the other, out of the mud as they finally ascended another hill. “Ugh. No matter what challenges await us in the Trial of the Wise, I'll be content as long as it is dry.”

He shot her an exasperated look. “You had to say it.”

When they came out of the dank forest, Kirito was glad to see that the swamp did, in fact, also end there. Actually, the wide open space was about as bright and peaceful as was likely to be found on the entire floor. They stood now on the shore of a placid lake, with the only sounds being distant bird calls.

That placid lake was also why he wasn't anywhere near as relieved as he otherwise would've been at escaping a swamp.

At his side, a mud-spattered Kizmel stared at the island in the center of the lake, carefully scrutinizing the ruins perched on it. The place was, if anything, in even worse shape than the Trial of the Brave, with pools of water visible on the inside through holes in its crumbling walls; obviously the lake had made some inroads on the island itself, and the ruins had suffered for it.

“Kirito,” she said after a moment. “I'm not certain why, but I feel very uneasy about this place. I have the oddest premonition that I will soon have a headache. Does that make any sense?”

“Yeah,” Kirito said, sighing. “After what happened last time, I think we can expect something other than a boss fight at the end of it—but if I know the stories, getting there is going to be a lot worse than the Trial of the Brave. A ruined temple surrounded by water? No way this is going to be fun.”

And speaking of getting there… Is there anything else Argo left in the guide that she didn't mention when we talked? Remembering the Rat's grin, he wished now he'd actually read the guide before coming this far, rather than taking her at her word that the area around the temple was safe. Bringing up his menu long enough to materialize the guide, he quickly confirmed that, yes, her notes did mention the probable inspiration for this particular dungeon.

It also, as he'd feared, didn't say anything to suggest there was anything on the shore that he was missing now.

Sighing again, he dropped the guide back in his inventory; there obviously wouldn't be any information about what they'd find inside, given the nature of the quest. “Kizmel? I'm pretty sure there's no boat here, and Argo's notes don't mention one either, so…”

After a moment, Kizmel nodded in understanding. “We'll have to swim for it, then.” Shrugging, she mustered a rueful smile. “At the least, it should clear some of this mud off. A pity we'll not be able to wash our armor the same way.”

That was the other reason Kirito was uncomfortable now. As far as Argo's sources knew, there weren't any mobs of note in that lake—which was fortunate, because swimming with anything resembling full equipment just wasn't happening.

The consequences at least weren't likely to be as hazardous as when he and Asuna had had to swim to Rovia on arrival on the Third Floor, Kizmel being considerably less self-conscious than the fiery fencer. At the same time, that was kind of part of the problem, as far as he was concerned.

Look on the bright side. Argo isn't here, and she hasn't found any recording crystals yet. A sudden shiver went down his spine. …I think. Right, let's get this over with.

Kirito turned to Kizmel, already opening his mouth to say as much, only to see a flash of light as she anticipated him. Mud-covered armor vanished into whatever ether Dark Elves used for storage, leaving a thin singlet; with arms and legs bare, it was much more suited for swimming than her battle gear.

Realizing she was being watched, she directed a raised eyebrow and small smile in his direction. “I'm prepared to begin as soon as you are, Kirito.”

Wrenching his gaze away from dusky legs with more effort than he was willing to admit to, Kirito hurriedly brought up his menu and went into his equipment tab. A few quick jabs of his finger, and his own leather gear disappeared, replaced by a pair of swim trunks. Ordinarily, it would've left him quite cold—this being one of the floors that did seem to reflect the real-world calendar, by now descending into autumn—but under the circ*mstances, he hardly noticed the chill of the air.

It could've been worse. At least he'd long since made a point of replacing both the set he'd gotten from the Second Floor boss and equally-undignified variant Asuna had made for him on the Fourth. His new swimwear was far more abbreviated than he was comfortable with in present company, but it was a simple, plain black; no silly animal prints of any kind.

Regardless, Kirito didn't dare look back at his partner. He felt like he was being stared at as it was, and he had no desire to confirm it. “Okay, then! Let's get over to that lake and get this over with!” Only then sparing a—very brief—glance to confirm she was with him, he rushed for the water's edge and dove in.

Unlike the air, the shock of the cold water did get through the warmth of embarrassment, and only with difficulty did Kirito manage to remember the unique technique required for swimming in virtual water. Fighting thermal shock all the way, he flung himself into the swim, arrowing across the lake as quickly as he could.

There were, as promised, no monsters to try and drag them into the depths during the twenty-meter sprint to the island shore. Kirito was darkly suspicious of a long, narrow shape darting around near the lake bottom, but whatever it was seemed totally uninterested in the potential snacks at the surface; the only things that came anywhere near them were some curious fish, and some kind of non-hostile mob that resembled a condor-sized pelican that seemed more interested in the fish than the people.

He was still grateful to haul himself up on the shore, out of the freezing water. Swimming might be a perfectly fine way to pass the time, but not here, not with potential man-eater fish, and definitely not with company that could get him blackmailed if the wrong people happened by at the wrong time.

As soon as he was on solid footing, Kirito wasted no time in bringing up his menu and reequipping normal clothes, heavy coat, and the comfortingly familiar weight of his sword. Hearing a splash from a meter or so away, he turned to make sure his partner had similarly made it across without incident.

From the look of things, not only had she been fine, but she'd enjoyed it a lot more than he had. If the cold bothered Kizmel at all, it wasn't obvious; if anything, she looked refreshed by the experience. When she came to her feet on dry land, she took a moment to shake water out of her lilac hair.

The way the motion affected her body, and the way her water-soaked singlet clung to her, drove anything Kirito might've been about to say right out of his head.

Noticing his petrified state after a few moments of shedding water, Kizmel only smiled, shook her head, and tapped her shoulder to call up her muddied armor. “That was refreshing,” she commented. “Would that we could take the time to clean our armor, but I suppose this will suffice for now. Shall we?”

Shaking himself out of his stupor, Kirito redirected his attention to the ruins they were here for. “Uh, right! Yeah, let's see how we're supposed to get into this place.” Turning, he marched toward the steps leading to the temple entrance, determinedly ignoring his partner's chuckle.

The Trial of the Wise would have been, if intact, roughly a pyramid in structure, with a couple of rectangular wings to the sides. In the ancient, decayed state the game rendered it now, there were enough holes in the walls and the “floors” of each outer level to let plenty of sunlight in; there was even a sizable gap in the highest layer, which in theory could've been a shortcut right to the end of the dungeon.

In practice, Kirito was unsurprised to see, the staircases leading above the Trial's ground level were too broken to use. A few more points to his Strength and Agility stats, and he might've been able to jump; as it was, sequence-breaking was obviously impossible.

They could, possibly, have gone in via some of the damaged walls that were within reach. Practically speaking, though, he was pretty sure there would be traps to discourage the attempt. That left just the main entrance, at the top of the only exterior stairway that was at all intact.

When they'd reached it, Kirito wasn't really surprised by what kind of gate awaited them. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked his partner, more resigned than anything else at this point.

Kizmel leaned close to examine an inscription beside the gate, writing in the same script as that outside the Trial of the Brave. “The second half of the inscription is the same as before,” she reported, “save for speaking of Wisdom rather than Courage. It's probably safe to assume we enter through the same means. The first half is somewhat different, however:

“Bravery alone means little; a journey must have a destination. Without Wit, doors remain forever closed; without it, Courage is but foolhardy fearlessness. Determination is only the beginning; the road demands the Wisdom to rend illusion that leads astray, to find the true path to that which is sought.”

Pure flavor text, Kirito thought—or so he would have assumed, had it not been for Cardinal confronting them with Diavel's ghost last time. Being as this was specifically a test of wisdom, he was already starting to worry about what was waiting for them in this Trial's inner sanctum.

“Well,” he said, “that at least proves we're in the right place. And this time, we've got a better idea of what's likely to be thrown at us. I hope.” He turned a rueful smile on his partner. “No point in putting it off, right?”

“None at all.” Kizmel drew closer as they approached the gate, and this time there was none of her previous amusem*nt at their enforced proximity when she swept her cloak over them both. “I'm sorry for the mud this is going to get in our hair, though.”

Kirito managed a shrug, regretting it only slightly when he realized just where his left shoulder was, relative to her. “We'll still have to swim back to the mainland when we get out. That should take care of most of it.”

“Until we have to go back to the swamp on our way back to Mydo,” she reminded him, as their translucent bodies made contact with the barred gate, and slipped through as easily as ghosts.

“…Yeah. I was kind of trying to forget that part, actually. Something tells me getting it all off our gear is going to be even worse. With our luck, this is as stubborn as Fire Goat ashes…”

“I knew it,” Kirito said forlornly, slapping a bright green switch with his off-hand. “As soon as I saw this place, I knew it was going to be like this… no wonder Argo was grinning like that, she must've known from the descriptions…”

Listening to stone grinding in the distance as she watched his back, Kizmel couldn't help but share his melancholy. Strange stone-moving puzzles aside, the Trial of the Brave had at least been reasonably easy to navigate. So far, they'd been in the Trial of the Wise for half an hour and had, by her count, gotten turned completely around at least five times.

The strangely mobile architecture was not helping. At all. Kirito's map was keeping up with the changes the various switches made to the temple's labyrinth, but that only applied to areas they'd already been in; it was useless for predicting where they were supposed to go next, or exactly which arrangement of switches would open the next path.

At least the monsters had, so far, been reasonably easy. Such as the one that was just now swarming up the hallway toward her, apparently drawn by the noise of the rotating walls elsewhere; from Kirito's comments, the “level” was almost perfectly balanced for increasing their own abilities according to Swordmaster numerical measurements.

Taking a burst of fire on her shield, Kizmel decided that she didn't really care very much about “experience points” just then. Her concern was that the beast scuttling up to her had far too many tentacles, an assessment she expressed by lopping three of them off with a single Reaver. One more got through, drawing a hiss of pain from her when it opened a scratch on her face; she smashed it away with her shield, then pushed forward through the retaliatory fire to drive her saber right through its beak.

“Land-based, fire-breathing squid,” Kirito remarked as it disappeared in bright blue shards. He sounded more bemused than anything else. “Okay… not quite what I was expecting.”

“But you were expecting a temple whose hallways change direction at the touch of a switch.” She glanced at him sidelong. “Perhaps, Kirito, when we're someplace safer you should give me at least the short version of one of the tales you know of this quest.”

“Not sure how much good it'll do, but yeah, I guess I probably should.” Summoning up his Mystic Scribing, he consulted his map of the temple, frowning thoughtfully. “First lesson: dungeons associated with water are bad news. Always. Given this is supposed to be a trial of wisdom, and they're a lot more literal about it than I was expecting, I really should've figured this was going to happen… Okay, I think that did it. According to the map, the way to the second sublevel is clear.”

“Barring beasts out to strangle us, burn us, or worse,” she said wryly.

“Well, yeah; I can tell already that there's at least three mobs coming up the stairway now…”

Five minutes later, with two Ignition Squids and an Octoshark shattered, they stood at the bottom of the second staircase leading to the temple's lower levels. Kizmel eyed the door beyond with deep suspicion; the Octoshark, according to Argo's notes, was an amphibian that preferred water to land, yet the stairwell itself had been bone dry. Moreover, this door was one of those that required Mystic Scribing to open.

Exchanging a wary look with Kirito, she moved forward with him to open the door, blades drawn and ready. If there was a repeat of their encounter with Black Knights in the previous Trial, they would be ready. So, tentatively, the human Swordmaster reached out, tapped the door, and pressed an acceptance on the ethereal page that appeared. Obligingly, it slid open—

Water rushed out with a roar, nearly sweeping them both off their feet. Cold and completely unexpected, it left Kizmel coughing, unable to see, trying to at least keep her shield between them and anything that might be waiting on the other side.

A few seconds only, and it subsided, leaving them waist-deep in water, soaked to the skin. With no trace of monsters on the other side, the two were left to simple look at each other in silence for a moment, united in resigned disgust at their predicament.

“Well,” Kirito offered presently, “at least it got the mud off our clothes?”

Kizmel sighed. “That would be so much more comforting if we did not need to face the swamp again after we leave, regardless.” Lifting her waterlogged cloak, wincing at the added weight, she directed a glare at the hallway beyond. Also flooded to waist-height. “As you Swordmasters might say, whoever originally designed this Trial had a very unpleasant sense of humor.”

“Kirito,” Kizmel asked an hour later, voice a dangerously level tone Kirito normally associated with Asuna about to kick him, “please, tell me. Does your world have such an unpleasant abundance of sea creatures with tentacles?”

Hacking another limb off the Tyrant Squid King that laired in the lowest level of the temple with the quick down-up combo of a Vertical Arc, he winced. “Not capable of coming up on land, anyway,” he got out, skipping back a step to dodge a tentacle aiming to wrap around his throat. “Though you should probably avoid—uh, some books that neither of us should really go anywhere near anyway…”

Even in the middle of her attempt at giving the Tyrant Squid a death of a thousand cuts, the elf spared a moment to give him a very narrow look. “Normally that's the kind of comment that would have me asking Argo for more details. This time, I believe I don't really want to know.”

“Hey, this one I really do only know by reputation!” he protested, ducking around flailing limbs to ram his sword into the hideously oversized cephalopod's face. “Do I really look like that kind of guy?”

Actually, he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer to that. Certainly Asuna had expressed some dark suspicions about the purity of his intentions, in times past.
“…That was unfair of me, I apologize.” A tentacle got through Kizmel's guard, forcing a grunt of anguish from her; in return, she took the opportunity to grab hold of it with her shield arm, giving her the chance to bring her saber down on it with brutal force. “I'm just—frustrated—with these things!”

Oof. It was times like this that reminded Kirito that making his partner angry wasn't really a good idea. The last time he'd heard that tone out of her, it had been just before they launched their final joint assault on the Fallen Elf King, a battle that had been one of the most brutal he'd ever experienced in Aincrad.

A few minutes more parrying and assaulting heavily-muscled appendages—punctuated by Kirito at one point being flung clear into the ceiling, when he'd missed a dodge—and he saw the opening they'd been waiting for. With only two of its original twelve tentacles left, both of them far to one side, the Tyrant Squid King's main body was vulnerable.

Kizmel saw it at the same time he did, and her eyes narrowed. “Kirito, match my timing!” she snapped, sounding every bit the Royal Guard Knight in full fury. “It's time to end this!”

Watching her backflip twice to gain distance, then crouch like a sprinter at the starting line, Kirito swung his sword up and behind his right shoulder, assuming the starting position for a Sonic Leap. When she rushed forward, soon engulfed in the white light of her chosen skill, he let the System Assist take over for him as well, taking him up in a flying lunge.

In the middle of the Flashing Penetrator, the Tyrant Squid tried to swipe Kizmel aside with one of its remaining limbs. Gripped by the brutal momentum of the skill, though, she powered right on through it, ripping the tentacle in two and hardly slowing down as she did; the sheer wind of her passage flung both halves well out of her way as she continued on.

Kirito's own skill didn't take him as far as he'd intended, the last remaining tentacle sweeping into his path before the halfway point; instead, his blade buried itself to the hilt in muscle, taking a lesser but still nice chunk of HP from the giant squid's bar. It also seemed to trigger a programmed pain reflex, ensuring the tentacle wouldn't obstruct his partner's attack.

The unintended consequence was that Kirito himself ended up slammed into a stone wall hard enough to leave a dent and take a good twenty percent off his HP, but he was muzzily certain it was worth it.

By the time he'd recovered his senses, along with his sword, he was proven right. Kizmel's powerful blow drove her saber deep into the Tyrant Squid King's skull, wrenching a high-pitched squeal of agony from it. When she ripped her blade free again, it shrieked again—and exploded.

It took Kirito a moment to realize the squid's main body actually had shattered in the normal fashion of SAO. The cloud of ink it released in its death throes made it kind of hard to see details like that, after all.

Covered in ink from lilac hair to armored boots, for a moment Kizmel only stood there silently. Kirito tensed, expecting an explosion of another kind from the normally even-tempered elf; the way her sword shook visibly in her hand for a moment only made his expectation worse.

After a few moments of silent fury, though, she said only, “It's as well we need to pass through half-flooded halls again, before we find the Trial chamber. …We are never coming here again.”

He nodded hurriedly, and walked very quickly to the chest that the Tyrant Squid King had been guarding. “Here's the final key,” he reported, checking the contents. “Let's head back up.”

“Yes. Please.”

The above-ground levels of the Trial temple at least were comparatively free of cephalopods. What seemed to be palette-swaps of the Giant Bats from lower floors lurked in shadowy corners, instead, and large rodents with metal-armored heads were the most common hall monitors. The former were easily dealt with so long as they kept their wits about them; the latter were trickier, being nearly invincible from the front, but standard Switching tactics made reasonably short work of them, as well.

Dealing with a pair of them simultaneously, in a narrow corridor near the highest floor of the temple, was a bit of a sticky moment, but nothing two determined clearers couldn't handle with some awkward acrobatics.

All in all, not the hardest dungeon they'd ever conquered together, even taking into account the giant squid. That just made Kirito more nervous, as they approached a door with a heavy lock on the top level. Both Trial dungeons had been comparatively easy as far as combat was concerned, but the Trial of the Brave had done a number on them both mentally.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know what waited for them in a trial of Wisdom.

This isn't even the right genre for this, he complained inwardly, fishing the large key out of a belt pouch. This game was supposed to be about swords, and nothing else. Not weird mind puzzles that try and break us for real.

“Judging from the map, there isn't much beyond here,” Kizmel remarked, seeming no more eager than he to see what waited for them this time. “I doubt the room ahead is large enough for a serious fight to be our final obstacle here. …This probably will be similar to the previous Trial.”

“That's what I'm afraid of, yeah.” Sighing, Kirito slid the key open, twisted it, and watched the door rumble out of the way. “No point in putting it off, I guess.”

The next room was very small, as he'd more or less expected. Just large enough to have another pair of doors, just like in the first Trial: one for Swordmaster, one for Elf.

This time they didn't hesitate, simply going straight for their respective gates. As she drew her cloak around herself, wavering out of sight, Kizmel gave him one last encouraging smile. “See you on the other side, Kirito.”

“I'll be right with you, Kizmel.” Tracking her departure only from the sound of her footsteps, Kirito tapped his door, pressed [Yes] on the pop-up that appeared, and stepped into the darkness beyond the narrow passage.

Wait. Last time it just led right into the next room, this is more like—

Kizmel was not expecting a fight when she passed through the gate into the final chamber of the Trial; not after what had turned out to be waiting at the end of the first. Neither, though, did she expect to briefly be engulfed in darkness, similar to the effects of a human Teleport Gate.

When there was light again, she flung her cloak back and reached for her saber. “Kirito?” she called out, realizing quickly that her partner was nowhere to be seen. All that could be seen in the small room were torches lighting murals on the walls, and a locked chest protected by glass doors at the far end; there was no trace of anyone else. “Kirito, can you hear me?”

There was no answer, and as her chest began to tighten anxiously Kizmel started to draw her blade—only to be brought up short when another voice did speak. “It is alright, Kizmel. Swordmaster Kirito only has his own Trial to face; he is perfectly safe… for now, at least.”

Eyes widening, she whipped her head around to see who had spoken, and her heart leapt into her throat. A semi-solid figure had appeared in the middle of the room, much as Diavel's shade had in the Trial of the Brave; but this one she knew from more than just stories. The young woman who was fading into view wore the robes of a Dark Elf herbalist, not the armor of a knight, but her features were very close to Kizmel's own.

“Tilnel…?”

The apparition of her sister, gone now nearly a year, nodded, smiling softly. “In a way,” Tilnel said. “Much like the Swordmaster Diavel, and yet… not. As he appeared before you in the first Trial, I am here for your second, Sister. For this, the Holy Tree has granted me a little time in this realm once more.”

Shaking, Kizmel took her hand off her sword. “What kind of trial?” she asked, voice trembling. There were a thousand questions she would've rather asked, so many things unsaid before tragedy had struck, yet this was the only one she could. If Tilnel was here for this one task, Kizmel couldn't put personal feeling before duty… however much it hurt not to.

From the sad twist in her smile, Tilnel understood. “I am here to ask of you, Sister, a question: what conclusions have you drawn about the dreams? The visions you have had of other outcomes of your first meeting with Swordmaster Kirito?”

Kizmel inhaled sharply. She knew what her sister spoke of: the same dreams that had prompted her to leave Lyusula's capital and rejoin Kirito, the ones that she'd first begun to have shortly after meeting him. Nightmares, really, showing her battles that ended in her death, not her living to see Kirito and Asuna's victory at their side.

“…I assumed, once, that they were nothing but ordinary nightmares,” she said slowly. “But Kirito seemed to react to the details I shared with him, and I've since learned that he had visited a dreamlike version of Aincrad before…” Kizmel hesitated, trying to put into words the theory she'd begun to form, in recent months. “I… have begun to wonder if, in my own dreams, I may have truly visited that copy myself. I don't know how, but…”

Tilnel nodded, seeming unsurprised. “You suspect that the dreams are more like memories, that you were somehow linked with Kayaba Akihiko's incomplete copy of the Steel Castle… Yet you continue to trust Kirito?”

Kizmel started in surprise. “Why wouldn't I?”

“Think of it, Sister,” Tilnel said gently. “If you truly were, somehow, within that copy, and your 'dreams' are true memories… then Swordmaster Kirito let you die, more than once.”

The question was like a blow to Kizmel's stomach. “Kirito… let me die…? No. No, that can't be…”

“Can it not?” Her sister's eyes were sad, yet firm. “Sister, your life was saved by two Swordmasters, alone. In the dreams, Kirito is accompanied by not one, but several of his people—and yet each time, you fall. Do you truly believe that they made any serious effort to protect your life? Even your companion?”

The swordswoman shook her head in mute denial. The Kirito she knew would never “let” anyone die; if there was anything that truly frightened him, it was failing to save the lives of those around him. She'd seen it, time and again, just as she'd seen his anguish when three of the Moonlit Black Cats fell, one after another.

Yet—she couldn't speak to deny Tilnel's assertion. In the dreams, Kirito was not so skilled as she knew him, and in some of them he and his unfamiliar allies… they seemed almost to be expecting her fall, in the end. They stood with her against the Forest Elf knight, but pressed the attack with none of the brilliant determination Asuna had possessed in the “true” version of events.

Even Kirito, in some versions of the dream, seemed more resigned to an inevitable fate than truly fighting to win. As if he believed only her sacrifice would bring victory…

“No,” she whispered. “If that's what it would mean for them to be 'true', then those must be nothing but dreams. I can't believe that Kirito would… would accept such a thing…”

“He is human, Sister,” Tilnel reminded her, not unkindly. “The Swordmasters seek to free themselves from this Castle; you know that better than any of our people. You have seen with your own eyes how all too many of them aid even the humans of this world only for the rewards they will receive, increasing their own power and the chances of their own survival. Is it really so hard to accept that your own companion would be so different, when aiding our people has granted him great rewards?”

Kibaou, the rough-spoken, hot-tempered Swordmaster who'd endangered even some of his own people in his zealous pursuit of “fair” advancement of all Swordmasters. Lind, Diavel's would-be successor, who projected an air of nobility, yet seemed convinced it was his place to dictate, not merely lead. Morte, Kirito's attempted murderer, who seemed to seek nothing but chaos…

“There are people of true nobility among the Swordmasters,” Tilnel said now, as if sensing the wavering in Kizmel's heart. “That much is true. Yet their own people will, must, be their priority. How can our people truly expect to trust them, in the long term?”

Kizmel wanted to deny that. Even as she recognized the truth in her sister's words, something in her refused to accept that Kirito, her partner, could possibly be like that, yet she couldn't find the words. A conviction as solid as anything in her soul, yet one based as much on emotions she herself still struggled to understand as any kind of logic.

Looking back into Tilnel's sad eyes, the words wouldn't come. There was an answer here, she was certain of it, yet how could she justify it to her sister, who had died without any Swordmaster ever lifting a finger—

Sad eyes. I've seen that expression before… in my dreams…

The dreams. The “beta test”. Kirito always looks like that, as my consciousness fades. What did he say about the “test” that some of his fellows went through, before coming to the true Aincrad…?

“…He didn't know.” Shaking herself, Kizmel met her sister's eyes, feeling herself on firm ground once again. “Tilnel. Those dreams always end with Kirito looking so very sad… and he told me he didn't know that this world would be real. That the people here would be real.”

Something shifted in the specter's expression. “Can you truly believe that, Sister?”

“I can,” she said firmly. “I always wondered, before we spoke of it, why the Swordmasters seemed such a strange mix of people, why they seemed so completely unprepared for this world. Why they'd come here to 'save' it, only to seem to need saving themselves.

“Kirito's words, that this was not what they expected to find, explains much of it. And, Tilnel… since the day he and Asuna saved my life, Kirito has always been a steadfast companion, no matter the risk.” A memory of a few hideous moments of combat, against the twisted Fallen Elves, flashed through her mind, and it was her turn to smile sadly. “Even when, to save me, he had to make a terrible choice.”

Tilnel tilted her head. “That does still leave questions,” she pointed out. “I have seen the Swordmasters, even Kirito, and to this day few, if any of them, truly accept this world as real.”

“I know. There are still mysteries, I know, but…” Kizmel shook her head. “I don't believe it's malice, Tilnel. I believe there are things here that I don't understand, that I can't understand yet, but if it is anyone's fault, it is Kayaba's. I know Kirito still has questions of his own about this world—but I truly believe he sees me as a person, not a dream. Even if there are still questions, that answer I do have.”

For a long moment, Tilnel simply stood there, regarding her silently. Then, slowly, she smiled, looking strangely proud. “I believe you have the right of it, Sister. You have found one answer—and you and your companion are both seeking the others. The truth, I believe, is somewhere between you—and it is knowing where to look that is the true wisdom, not knowing what lies at the end of the path.”

Tension flowed out of Kizmel's shoulders, leaving her briefly lightheaded. “That's… what I think, too, Tilnel,” she whispered. “So, you truly believe this is the right path for me to walk?”

Her sister stepped to one side, gesturing at the glass doors silently swinging open. “The powers that judge this Trial seem to think so,” she said dryly. “But myself, personally… Yes, I do. It is not the path I might have expected either of us to follow, but I believe it to be a good one.” She paused. “You should understand, though, that the answers you seek cannot be grasped as you are now.”

Kizmel started for the chest, her eyes still focused on her sister's shade. “I'm beginning to see that, yes. Kirito and I come from very different worlds; I can tell simply from how he struggles to explain himself, sometimes, that there are entire concepts we do not share. I'm willing to chance learning things I would rather not, for the sake of knowing the truth.”

“For knowing what Kirito's world is?” Tilnel chuckled softly. “That is good, Sister. After all—you have already begun to change, have you not?”

Hands poised to open the chest, the knight paused. “Tilnel?”

“Have you not noticed, Sister? Your very speech shows the path you have taken. Your words are as much of the Swordmasters as they are of our people, now.”

Kizmel blinked, thought back on her own half of the conversation, and realized her sister was right: Kirito's more casual way of speaking had begun to rub off on her, without her even noticing. The words were much the same as her own people's but the way she said them had changed somewhere in the months she'd spent with the young Swordmaster.

Abruptly, she shrugged and lifted the chest's lid. “Well,” she said, reaching for the sapphire pendant within, “I think there are worse people to take after, don't you? At least I have not begun speaking like Guildmaster Kibaou.”

That got a genuine laugh out of Tilnel. “Yes, the man is quite difficult to understand, is he not? Kirito is assuredly a more suitable companion for you, Sister.” She was beginning to fade now, still smiling. “You have found the true path ahead, Sister, and proven your Wisdom. Take the symbol of it, and return to your companion's side.”

Settling the pendant around her neck, alongside the Bravery Pendant, Kizmel watched her sister fade from sight with a lump in her throat. “Tilnel,” she asked suddenly, “will we… meet again?”

The blue flare of a teleport began to whisk her away, but she still heard the shade's reply. “In another world, perhaps, Sister… but for now, your path is beside those living in this world. Where you go from here… is your own choice…”

When the teleport released her, Kizmel found herself at the base of the stairs outside the Trial of the Wise. It was as peaceful and free of monsters as when she'd gone in—but not quite empty. Almost the first thing she saw, after the blue light faded, was Kirito pacing just a few steps away, sword in hand, face tense and anxious.

He obviously heard her arrival, though; he quickly spun to face her, and a relieved smile replaced the tension. “Kizmel! I was starting to get worried. I tried to go back in as soon as I got here, but without your cloak to get through the—oof!”

Taking time only to see that he, too, wore a blue pendant around his neck, Kizmel cut him off with an impulsive hug. “I'm fine, Kirito,” she said into his ear. “I passed the Trial. I've no intention of going anywhere.”

“Um… okay…?” Obviously bemused, Kirito took a moment to sheathe his sword, then awkwardly returned her gesture. “Kizmel… did something happen in there?”

“…I don't think this is quite the place to talk about it.” She held onto him a moment longer, reaffirming her own conviction—reaffirming that whatever dreams might say, this was real—then let go, stepping back a pace. “The Trial was… a little trying, that is all. Perhaps we can discuss it later. At Fort Renya, maybe? I don't know about you, but I think I would rather unwind from this somewhere the likes of Lind will not be.”

Kirito nodded ruefully, scratching the back of his head. “Yeah, you've got a point there. Especially since we're going to have to wade through all that mud again, with no lake or flooded dungeon on the other side to wash us off.”

“That, too.” She grimaced. “I hope conquering this floor will not require us to pass this way again.”

There was little left to be said after that. The sooner they departed the Trial's island, the sooner they would pass through the swamp, and the sooner they could find somewhere private to clean up, and take stock of the day's trials, both of the body and the mind.

Returning to the water's edge, Kizmel noticed Kirito's hesitation with some amusem*nt. She knew perfectly well what his problem was, and that it had nothing—well, very little—to do with the impending cold. When she dismissed her armor, using the pale shadow of the human Mystic Scribing the Dark Elves possessed to replace it with a thinner garment far more suitable for swimming, she watched her partner from the corner of her eye.

She didn't miss the way he watched her for a few moments, before abruptly turning away to don his own swimwear. Nor, when they'd crossed back to the mainland, his distracted gaze when she shook herself off. Not that she objected in any way; it was silly, she thought, to be so concerned about being seen exposed by not merely a fellow warrior, but her trusted partner, with whom she'd shared living space for so long now.

Actually, Kizmel enjoyed it, just a little. Partly out of vanity—but mostly, these days, because it was proof Kirito did see her as “real”. A dream, he might've admired without shame; his obvious embarrassment said his spoken assurances weren't meaningless words.

Besides, she mused, as they put their battle gear back on, fair is fair, isn't it? It wasn't like she wasn't getting an interesting view herself, after all.

When they'd gotten back on the road returning to Mydo, Kirito cleared his throat. “W-well,” he said, “I guess we're making good progress on this quest, huh? Two dungeons in two days.”

“Indeed. From what Countess Ryella said, we have but one more Trial to face before the way to the Reliquary is opened.” Kizmel reached up to grasp the paired stones resting against her chestplate, proof of what they'd accomplished so far. “Of course, it seems likely the Reliquary itself will provide its own challenges…”

“Probably,” he agreed, sighing. “I'll be surprised if we don't run into trouble just trying to get to the place, let alone inside—gah!”

Distracted by the conversation, Kirito's foot caught on something hidden beneath the swamp—a tree root, Kizmel suspected belatedly—and toppled face-first into the mud. He choked, flailing against the muck; she hurried to his side, caught him by the collar of his leather coat, and hauled him up.

For a moment he leaned against her, sputtering as he tried to clear his mouth of the mud. The sight was such that she had to stifle a laugh—made easier by the knowledge that she was going to be nearly as dirty herself before long—before she could say anything with a straight face. “You have first call on the bath, Kirito,” she said, when she was sure her voice wouldn't crack.

“…Thanks, Kizmel.” Spitting out a last mouthful of dirty water, Kirito lifted his head to glare at the sky, hidden by the floor above. “This, I almost hate more than the whole 'tricked into risking out lives' thing. Fighting's one thing; this is sad*stic.”

Fort Renya, while a more solid fortification than the forward camp on the Third Floor, still wasn't anywhere near as elaborate or well-appointed as Yofel Castle on the Fourth. Still, while the Fort's bath chamber was small, it was nonetheless better than just a tent with wooden tubs; this was smooth stone, and there was even an actual door, even if it had no lock.

Kirito was just glad that the Fort Renya elves were as accommodating of a human guest as the forward camp and Viscount Yofilis' castle, graciously allowing him bathing privileges. He wasn't Asuna, who used them for fun, but after the trip through the swamp he wanted desperately to be clean. As Argo had warned, the mud didn't just wear off.

Fortunately, the soap Agil had sold did seem to be up to the task. He wasn't quite sure how he was going to reach parts of his back—the swamp water had gotten everywhere, soaking clear through cloth and leather both; which he'd also had to remove and soak separately—but everywhere he could get to, it was working wonderfully.

Mud, and a Water Temple, Kirito thought, sinking into the tub in the faint hope that a long soak would get his back clean. Did Kayaba get stuck there when he was kid, and decide to take it out on players of his “game” all these years later? Not to mention getting put through the ringer by a “ghost” at the end of it…

He still didn't know what to make of Diavel's so-called ghost, especially with how well it copied the original. Even so, he had to admit the shade had given him a lot to think about. It was giving him a headache, and he wasn't sure he liked all the implications, but he couldn't deny there was some hope in there that he hadn't considered before.

We're all going to be here awhile, Kirito reminded himself, scrubbing the last of the mud off his arms; one break from reality he was grateful for was the way the muck simply dissipated into fragments, rather than dirtying the tub. Even if we keep up the current rate of clearing… it's going to take a long time. We have to think about what we can do day by day…

Lost in the thoughts Diavel's “simple question” had stirred up, he almost didn't notice the bath chamber's door opening. He did clearly recognize the next sound, though. “Ah, Kirito. I'd hoped you'd still be here.”

Urk! He forced himself not to turn to look at the last moment, remembering what had happened the first time she'd walked in on him in the bath; as it was, he was grateful he'd had the presence of mind to wear a towel this time. “K-Kizmel! What're you—?!”

Kizmel chuckled. “Oh, relax, Kirito. I have learned some things about Swordmaster society—even if I question the necessity. It's safe to look.”

Her definition of safe wasn't one he was prepared to trust, in this context, but when she moved to slip into the tub beside him, he found himself unable to resist. Fortunately for his blood pressure, though, he found that she was telling the truth: this time, she was wearing a towel herself. The water quickly soaked it to the point of hugging her form more closely than he was comfortable with, but it was something resembling modesty, at least.

Even so. “Uh… Kizmel…?”

“I was hoping you might wash my back,” she told him. “I fear I can't quite reach, and… I'd rather not ask a stranger.”

Um. Well, Kirito could understand that much, at least; Kizmel hadn't seemed any more comfortable around Fort Renya's soldiers than he, and she was still as mud-drenched as he'd been. She did look like she needed the help…

“Also,” she continued after a moment, “I… wanted to talk. About the Trial.”

He told himself quite firmly that it was sheer practicality that led him to agree, and that the only reason he watched so closely when she slipped the towel away from her back to hold it against her chest was curiosity as to how she'd done it, in a world where manual adjustment of clothing was generally impossible. Just as clothes could only be put on or taken off by menu commands, towels, in his experience, were either wrapped securely or not at all.

When Kizmel had moved in front of him, half-submerged, and he'd knelt behind her with scrub brush in hand, Kirito ventured, “I take it you saw… a person, in the Trial?”

She nodded. “I did. When I emerged in the Trial chamber alone, I was worried for a moment… but then she appeared.” Kizmel paused, using a nearby bucket to dump some of the bath water over her hair. “My sister, that is. Or… her spirit, at least.”

Beginning to scrub at the mud coating her back, he winced. Not that he was surprised, exactly, after seeing the facsimile of Diavel; just concerned. Kayaba… you'd do that to her? Diavel was bad enough; this is her sister we're talking about here!

He kept it to himself, though. Explaining Kayaba's true nature was still something he wasn't remotely ready to attempt; even if he thought there was any chance she'd truly understand it. So he only sat silently, scrubbing, waiting for her to continue.

“I don't know what question you faced, Kirito,” Kizmel said after a moment, rubbing shampoo into her hair. “But Tilnel… she asked me about the dreams I've had of you. What I thought of them. And then… she asked me if I truly trusted you.”

Kirito's breath caught, and his stomach clenched. The dreams. The ones she has about the beta test? “Kizmel…?”

“She said… that you let me die,” she told him, very softly. “Three versions I've seen of our first meeting, that did not match what happened in the waking world. Three ways I die, with your sword and your companions' doing naught to save me, when yours and Asuna's were enough to grant us victory themselves. Tilnel suggested that… it made you no different from other Swordmasters, such as Lind or Kibaou.”

He swallowed, scrubbing brush forgotten against her shoulder. That wasn't really so different, he knew, from his own self-recrimination after they had saved Kizmel. Which meant he couldn't even deny the suggestion—not convincingly. He could say that he'd realized the error of his way afterward, but why should she believe that?

Kirito was startled from his bitter thoughts by Kizmel's hand reaching back, holding his against her shoulder. “That, of course, was the test, Kirito: to see if I could find the flaw in that argument. Because I do trust you.”

“Y-you do?”

“Of course.” She turned to look back at him, smiling. “You told me yourself, the night we defeated The Commandant: none of you knew what you were getting into, when you came to this place. Certainly, many of your fellows still treat Aincrad as a dream world, and I know you cherish doubts yourself… but since the day we truly met, you've always treated the people here as if they were as real as your comrades.” Kizmel squeezed his hand. “And much as we both may regret the consequences, I haven't forgotten that you chose to save my life that day, over a Swordmaster.”

He let out a shaky breath, feeling a wave of relief, and belatedly resumed washing her dusky back. “That's more trust than I probably deserve, Kizmel. I told you before, I didn't even think about it…”

“Exactly.” Kizmel leaned back into his ministrations, eyes drifting closed. “We come from different worlds, Kirito, and I know there is still much I don't understand about yours, and what you believe about this Steel Castle. Even so, you've been a true companion—and my most trusted friend.”

Kirito glanced away, feeling his face flush with embarrassment. “Well, I… I'm doing my best, Kizmel. And… well, you're one of the only friends I've ever had, so… er…”

She laughed, but said nothing more, only gracing him with an understanding smile that made his stomach feel strangely queasy. The elf only went back to washing her hair, while he rubbed the brush as low as he dared down her back, dislodging the last of the stubborn swamp muck.

After he'd finished in the companionable silence that had fallen, Kizmel wrapped the towel around herself again. “Your turn, Kirito,” she announced.

He blinked. “Um. What?”

“I'll wash your back as well, of course,” she said, as if it were obvious. “Doubtless you've as much trouble reaching the worst of the filth as I.”

Kirito protested, but only weakly, utterly unable to come up with a logical objection. Soon enough, he was the one kneeling in front of her, while she took the scrub brush to his back. Okay, he thought, fighting vainly for calm, this is… different. I mean, it's nice, too, but, uh… Wow. Really good thing Asuna isn't here to see this. A chill ran down his back. Or Argo. Eep, I shouldn't even think that…

“So tell me, Kirito,” Kizmel began, either oblivious to or unconcerned by his discomfort. “What question was asked of you, in the Trial of the Wise? …Actually, come to think of it, there was something else I was wondering, first.”

He was almost afraid to ask. “What's that, Kizmel?”

“Nothing serious, I suppose,” she admitted. “But I was wondering about something Argo offered to sell. Exactly what did she mean by 'three sizes'? Sizes of what?”

“Urk!”

October 7th, 2023

It had taken three days since the discovery of the field boss' location for the full raid of Swordmasters to be ready for it. Three days of upgrading equipment, mapping territory, and training up their skills and physical abilities according to their odd numerical standards.

One of those days had, for one particular pair of clearers, been lost to a quest to find a particular kind of soap. Kizmel had not been amused to learn the mud that had so stubbornly clung to their bodies had required even more stringent methods to remove from metal armor.

Now forty-eight clearers—forty-seven Swordmasters and a single Dark Elf—gathered on the south side of the single large clearing on the floor, directly opposite a veritable army of mobs. Roughly two-thirds of them wore the dark armor of the Divine Dragons Alliance; of the remainder, a scant handful wore a motley assemblage of non-uniform equipment typical of solos, while the rest were clad in the white and red of the Knights of Blood.

Kizmel wasn't especially surprised that Guildmaster Heathcliff's distinctive red and white armor was absent. While the man they called the Paladin was always present for Pillar Guardians, often as not he delegated command of lesser battles.

Despite his absence, there was no real question as to who the raid leader was. Lind stood at the head of the DDA contingent, looking dissatisfied, while at the forefront of the entire raid stood Vice-Commander Asuna, cool and radiant in the afternoon light.

One hand resting on the hilt of her rapier, the chestnut-haired girl faced the raid as a whole. “The final scouting reports have come in,” she said, sounding every bit the calm and collected leader despite her youth. “An exact count is difficult, but it's estimated that there are around two hundred and eighty enemies in the army in front of us—approximately six times our number.” There was some murmuring among the clearers, but she continued on evenly. “Their levels, fortunately, are lower than the average for this floor, so each of us killing at least six of them isn't as impossible as it may seem.”

Kizmel nodded at that. Exchanging a quick glance with Kirito, she saw that he shared the sentiment: to the Swordmasters who felt no pain, so long as their flesh was stronger than the enemy's muscles, six to one odds only meant more targets.

“Don't get careless, though,” Asuna warned. “The mobs are a mix of Forest Lizardmen and Wood Goblin Warg Riders; according to reports, the Warg Riders have poisoned blades, and the Forest Lizard Knights can inflict paralysis. In this kind of battle, either one can be… bad.”

“That's an understatement,” Kirito muttered, just loud enough for Kizmel to hear. “Go down here, and you'd be trampled before anybody could heal you…”

Lind cleared his throat. “And the boss itself, Vice-Commander?” His tone, the elf noticed, was a mix of resentment and respect. He obviously still wanted the top spot, but even he wasn't immune to the mystique of the Flash, apparently.

“That's more difficult,” Asuna acknowledged. Her free hand gestured at thin air, and with a few strokes materialized a sheet of paper, which she briefly consulted. “It's called Forest Lord: The Hobgoblin, and it's mounted on a giant Warg. It's armed with two shields, which according to reports are large enough to effectively cover it from frontal attack. Its cursor also indicates it's much stronger than its army. Not as much as most field bosses, though.”

“That's going to make it trickier,” Kirito noted. “Too bad bows don't work in Aincrad…”

Kizmel nodded in silent agreement. One of the most vexing things about the Steel Castle, she sometimes thought, was that its very nature seemed to make any ranged weapon more sophisticated than a throwing knife go astray. According to the old tales, in the days before the Great Separation archers had been an integral part of most armies; in Aincrad, they were useless.

Though her partner hadn't spoken loud enough to be heard by the raid at large, Agil quickly voiced the same concern, and Asuna nodded in acknowledgment. “Trying to get through the shields probably isn't going to work—unless one of you has gotten their Throwing skill higher than you've bothered to mention?” After a brief round of chuckles and sounds of derision, she continued, “So we're going to use overwhelming force: hit The Hobgoblin from all directions, with as many Swordmasters as will fit.”

“That's going to be difficult, with an army of adds distracting us, Vice-Commander,” Lind pointed out.

Asuna smiled. It was far from the friendliest expression Kizmel had ever seen on her face. “That's true, Lind. Which is why we're going to kill every single one of them, first.”

Asuna hadn't been kidding about her battle plan. Despite there being nearly three hundred monsters waiting for them, she simply assigned each of the eight parties to a section of the battle line, and ordered a full assault. It was a brutal, straightforward approach that against a Pillar Guardian, or even other field bosses, would've been suicidal.

The DDA members, Kizmel could tell, thought that it still was.

Kirito, though, seemed unperturbed as he fell naturally into leading their own group of six unaffiliated clearers toward the east flank of the enemy line. “Look,” he said, as they started running across the hundred-meter gap between them and the mobs, “their cursors are practically pink. Sure, we're outnumbered six-to-one, but at those levels, this is more like a Musou game than a usual boss' adds. We probably won't even get much XP from these guys.”

Agil, one of four merchants who'd ended up teamed with them for the battle, nodded thoughtfully. “Okay, I can see that… Heh.” He grinned, spinning his axe lightly as they ran. “When you put it that way, guys like me should be the MVPs, right?”

“Mind explaining that in ways the rest of us can understand?” A brown-haired girl with a heavy mace, whose name Kizmel hadn't quite caught, rolled her eyes. “Some of have barely even heard of that series, y'know. I play MMOs, not hack and slash!”

…And sometimes, I still don't understand half of what they're saying, Kizmel thought ruefully. Though at least now I know why they speak so much of games.

“Means they're so weak each of us could probably take at least ten,” Agil told her. “And us big guys with polearms can make out like bandits with AoE.” He shot the girl another grin. “Hey, don't look so glum! You may not have the reach, but that mace'll knock 'em dead, you watch!”

“It better,” she grumbled. “Can't believe I was crazy enough to join this, but she said the drops were supposed to be really good mats…”

Kizmel wondered briefly who “she” was, but didn't have time to dwell on it. They'd crossed a lot of territory during the banter, and now they were just reaching the first rank of Lizardmen. With a yell, she drew back her saber and charged, the red streak of her Reaver cutting across the chest of one of them at the same time Kirito ripped into another with a quick Horizontal Arc.

To one side, Agil waded right into the fray with his axe, a wide, spinning sweep sending three Lizardmen flying clear off their feet. The two other combative merchants who rounded out their group drove into the gap, one stabbing with a spear, the other dancing in with a wicked dagger.

When the macer darted in to smash Kizmel's own first target in the head with her warhammer, the elf felt a brief, painful moment of déjà vu. If Agil had used a staff instead of an axe, this would've been so much like…

No. The past is gone. Done is done. All we can do is make sure the sacrifices were not in vain.

Yelling again, Kizmel left the first Lizardman to the macer and followed Kirito in. “Switch!” she called out; he broke away from his foe, continuing on to the next, leaving her an opening to take the tall reptile in the throat. Gurgling, it staggered back, tried to rally, then succumbed to blue shards when her next thrust caught it in the snout.

She blocked the next Lizardman's Vertical with her shield, shoved at it, moved to take advantage of the momentary opening; fell back a pace, hissing in pain, as another got through and tried to take off her sword arm at the elbow. The offender soon flew back from the impact of a mace to its chest, though, and Kizmel quickly realized the injury was minor.

Kirito is right. They're weak. The only advantage they have is sheer numbers!

The next few moments were a blur of spinning steel, the ringing of swords-on-shields, and occasional high-pitched shattering. Here and there, there was a grunt or cry of surprised impact from her companions, and more than once she found herself wincing as a Lizardman got through her defenses, but armor and flesh both proved more than a match.

How the battle was going on overall was difficult to judge, busy as they all were. Through a brief gap in the fighting, though, Kizmel did see Asuna's team efficiently tearing apart a group of Warg Riders; nimbly dodging the jaws of one such monstrous wolf, her friend leapt clear off the ground to launch a midair Linear at its rider, while her comrades took the flanks. The simple but efficient—and blindingly-fast—thrust catapulted the Wood Goblin off its perch, slamming into the ground well behind with enough force to shatter it.

Beyond that, Kizmel caught a glimpse of Lind's party, which despite its leader's best efforts had gotten surrounded, having pushed too far, too fast. They were giving as good as they got, as individually superior to the goblins and Lizardmen as any of them, yet for every one they killed, it seemed as if there were two more, and the other DDA groups were too far out of position to help.

Somewhere in the midst of finishing off her group of Warg Riders, Asuna apparently saw the same thing, and raised a shout. “KoB Team B, reinforce Lind! Team C, help the solos at the east flank! KoB Team A will continue the advance!”

Lind will not be happy about that, Kizmel mused. I'm glad for the help, though. Returning her attention to her own battle, she bashed a dying Lizardman to the side, giving her room to unleashed a spinning Treble Scythe on a Lizard Knight that was bearing down on the brunette macer.

Skipping back a pace, the girl gave her a nervous smile. “Thanks for the save!”

“My pleasure.” The Lizard Knight was falling back, bleeding red particles, but it wasn't quite dead. As her skill's delay released her, Kizmel drew back her saber to finish the job—

“Gah!”

Kirito's cry of anguish changed her plans in an instant. Seeing her partner falling back from another Lizard Knight's yellow-dripping blade, limbs rigid, she felt a rush of anger. “Agil—!”

The axeman was by her side in a moment, heading for her current foe. “I got it, go!”

She didn't need to be told twice. Before Kirito could hit the ground, Kizmel charged in, saber held low to her left, pointed straight forward. Ignoring the sting from a passing goblin's blade against her cheek, she let the skill's charm take her as soon as she was close enough: the blazing crimson thrust of an Oblique, stabbing low and deep into the Knight's stomach, below its light chest armor.

Her blow finished what Kirito had obviously started, sending the reptile to the next life in a shower of azure shards.

Kizmel hardly noticed its death, nor that they'd managed to clear a gap in the enemy's lines. She just dropped to her knees by her partner's side, digging into a belt pouch as she went. Oh, how I wish I could see vitality directly, as the Swordmasters do! “Kirito! Are you all right?”

He actually managed a small grin, looking up at her. “Yeah… that thing didn't hit that hard. I, uh… just can't move. They really do have paralysis attacks…”

“Just a moment, then.” She finally found what she was after, and pulled the antidote bottle's cap with furious haste. Carefully lifting Kirito's head with her free hand, she poured the drink into his mouth.

It wasn't as prompt as the effects of the still-rare crystals she'd sometimes seen Swordmasters use, but in just a few moments Kirito's limbs slackened from their rigor. “That's better… Thanks.” He glanced up at something she couldn't see, then, and his smile vanished. “Kizmel! You're poisoned!”

“Eh?” Kizmel blinked, only then noticing the faint burning in a line across her face, spreading deeper into her body. “Ah. That goblin—”

“Take five, guys. We got time.” Agil shouldered his axe, leading his fellow merchants and the macer girl over. “KoB's coming to help; we can take a minute for POT rotation. Take care of that poison, first.”

She nodded, and with a brief moment of focused will the ring on her finger flared brightly, its charm cleansing the poison before it could eat further at her body.

Something flew toward her, and she reflexively reached up to catch it: a potion bottle, tossed by the macer who was now opening one for herself. “I owe you for earlier,” the girl said. “Thanks again… Kizmel, right?”

“Yes.” Kizmel took a long drink from the medicine, realizing only then that as weak as their foes were, she had taken a number of minor wounds in the last ten minutes or so. The sudden absence of stings and aches was very welcome indeed. “I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name…?”

“Lisbeth,” the macer said, dropping inelegantly to the ground. “Master macer and blacksmith.” She glanced over at the continuing battle, her gaze lingering on The Hobgoblin, who so far had remained at the rear of the enemy force. “Those shields… supposedly, that's some great metal for smithing. That's what I'm here for.”

“Better hope it drops them, then. Besides, first we have to actually kill it,” Kirito pointed out.

“We just smashed like a full raid party of the adds ourselves,” Lisbeth retorted. “I think we're doing pretty well. Besides…” Her eyes turned to the slight figure in white and red, directing the center of the assault. “She's leading the attack. We'll beat it.” The macer's eyes flashed. “So let's hurry and get back on our feet! I don't wanna miss out the drops because we didn't even land a hit on the boss!”

The battle had, so far, been less frightening than Kirito had expected. Not that he'd been worried about getting through it himself, exactly—this many floors up, field bosses were a known risk—but when Asuna had casually assigned him and Kizmel to a party that included a couple of people who hadn't previously been clearers at all, his first thought had been of the Black Cats.

She'd more or less given him a peremptory command, though, and there hadn't been time before the battle to argue. And so far, he thought, sword whirling in a Horizontal Square against one of the last Warg Riders guarding The Hobgoblin, it seems to be working out okay.

After all, this time it wasn't just him and Kizmel with a team of low-level players. Agil and another of the merchants had been participating in clearing since the very first floors, and the feisty macer girl was more than pulling her own weight. Even the last of the merchants—whose name Kirito still hadn't found time to look for, despite being in the same party—was holding his own with his spear.

We just need to hold on a little longer, he thought, as Lisbeth smashed a goblin right off its mount with a simple but brutal Hammerblow to the chest. We're almost—there!

“Teams KoB and DDA A, advance on the boss!” Asuna shouted over the din of battle. “Solo team, you're with us! Everyone else, hold off the remaining adds!”

Lind tore the head off a Lizard Knight with a vicious Horizontal Arc from his scimitar, then whipped around to look at her. “Why split our forces now?!” he demanded. “Better to concentrate them—”

“We can only hit the boss from the flanks!” she snapped back. “Too many of us, and we'll just get in each other's way; we need to take turns, and there's no sense putting everyone in the rotation!”

Kirito could see that the DDA guildmaster didn't like that, but he personally agreed. Against a floor boss, it would make sense to rotate everyone in and out, to better keep up with healing needs; against a field boss, especially one whose true strength was in its adds, it was better to use the extra manpower to keep from being surrounded.

Lind is just mad his people get less of a chance at glory, that's all. Ignoble thought, but for all that he believed Lind was sincere in wanting to lead the players to victory for their own sake, he was also pretty sure the man was as much a glory hound as Diavel had been, just in a different way.

He was following orders anyway, though, and soon the player teams that had started to converge dispersed again, leaving only the lead groups of each guild and Kirito's motley crew of solos advancing on The Hobgoblin directly.

Mounted on a Warg even bigger than those used by the Wood Goblins, The Hobgoblin was itself like a Wood Goblin scaled up to match: dark green, seemingly made of muscles, wearing a hodgepodge of metal armor plates and an ugly smirk made uglier by its goblin-ish face. So far, the hideous monster had been content to let its minions take on the Swordmasters—and die in droves.

Now that they were approaching it directly, though, The Hobgoblin suddenly kicked its Warg with both heels, spurring the giant wolf into motion. It leapt forward, jaws snapped at Asuna; she dodged nimbly sideways, but at the same time, The Hobgoblin itself swung its shields out to the sides.

She managed to duck under. Hafner of the Divine Dragons wasn't so lucky, taking one of the huge, round pieces of steel in the face. With a yelp, he went flying back, bowling over another of his team along the way.

The Hobgoblin had to bring its shields back in right after that, though. Asuna had recovered from her evasion, and with a shout unleashed the four rapid thrusts of Quadruple Pain into the Giant Warg's flank. At the same time, Kirito and Kizmel tore into it from the other side; the elf's Reaver cut a long red line in the Warg's side, while Kirito's Sonic Leap drove his blade into The Hobgoblin's back.

With a cry of “Switch!” Lisbeth darted in, daring to smash at The Hobgoblin herself—only to be rebuffed when, recoiling from the last hit, the brute swung around to interpose one of its huge shields. A loud clang heralded the meeting of mace and shield, and she was flung back by the recoil.

Agil's axe swung into the gap then. Not even trying to get past The Hobgoblin's shields, he aimed for one of its legs, the head of his axe biting deep; it howled in pain, and he was forced to leap back from the snapping jaws of the Warg.

Those jaws were rebuffed in turn by Agil's lancer friend, and in the moment of time that bought them their knife salesman jumped in to nick the beast's ear. He was promptly swatted with a shield the size of a table, but managed to roll with the blow, unlike poor Hafner.

It was quickly clear to Kirito that the reports had been right: The Hobgoblin's real strength was in the size of its army. Once enough of the adds had been cleared away to let the players focus on the main target, it was swiftly overwhelmed by numbers in turn.

Here Kirito himself lunged in with a Snake Bite, trying to take off one of the Hobgoblin's legs; there, Kizmel and Lisbeth teamed up to batter the Giant Warg, while from the other side members of the DDA and KoB jostled for position and unleashed their own skills where there was time and room.

The HP bars of both wolf and rider were sizable, despite their relatively low levels. Even so, after a few minutes of relentless pounding, chopping, and stabbing, the Giant Warg let out a howl, made a last half-hearted effort to bite Lind's hand off, and collapsed. After a death rattle that Kirito found entirely too convincing, the beast shattered to pieces.

A moment before its mount succumbed, though, The Hobgoblin let out a roar of its own and leapt clear, landing on the ground with enough force to send Swordmasters stumbling. The shield in its right hand started to glow a bright azure, and it drew back its arm—

Not good!

On the bright side, Kirito reflected as the world spun around him, he now had empirical evidence that he was at a high enough level to attempt the labyrinth clearing, when they got that far. The flung shield that had sent him rolling across the ground had only taken off around a quarter of his HP; not nearly as bad as he'd feared.

Besides, now he had a great view of Asuna and Kizmel trying to stab the brute to death, while Lind and Agil took turns keeping the sword it had drawn in check, and Lisbeth did her dead-level best to smash its remaining shield to the ground.

The fact that pretty much nobody else could find an opening to get attacks in of their own almost made up for the fact that, by the time Kirito shook off the Tumble and sprang back to his feet, there was no more chance to get the LA Bonus himself. He rushed back to the fight as quickly as he could, but he could see The Hobgoblin's last HP bar draining fast, overwhelmed by so many attacks from all angles.

Poor Lisbeth was sent reeling from another rebuffed Hammerblow, but that was The Hobgoblin's last gasp at vengeance. Kizmel took the chance to actually jump on the shield, using it as a platform from which to drive her saber in a brutal Fell Crescent to the face.

The Hobgoblin froze in place, while the elf gracefully back-flipped off the shield to land lightly on the ground. Then, with a mournful groan, it followed its mount into fragmented death.

In the aftermath of the battle, with evening falling, the raid gathered around a large bonfire in the center of the clearing. With everyone worn out by the battle, and a fair bit of meat dropped as loot by the lesser monsters, it was decided that a giant barbecue would be a good way to unwind, while they all took stock of the various rewards from the battle.

Kirito wished that Asuna could've spent some time with his party, but she ended up having to mediate several disputes between the KoB and DDA players; at the same time, the two merchants he didn't know very well had gone off with a handful of crafters who'd turned up after the battle to discuss the merits of the drops they'd gotten.

That did still leave him with Kizmel, Agil, and the macer Lisbeth, at least, and Argo had shown up as well—to kibitz, as nearly as he could tell, but that was Argo.

“That wasn't as scary as I thought it'd be,” Lisbeth commented, sitting cross-legged as she checked over her own share of the raid's rewards. “I've been training up to come to the frontlines, 'cause I heard some really good stuff is starting to show up, but man… I was worried.”

“The front's no place for amateurs,” Agil agreed, around a mouthful of roasted Warg meat. “I think you did pretty good, though. Just gotta learn more about fighting guys with shields.”

“Like it's my fault that one had shields as big as my dinner table?” The macer shook her head. “Eh, I don't care… I got the metal I wanted, anyway.” She directed a grin at the group at large. “Any of you guys in the market for a new weapon? I can't wait to try this stuff out.”

“I believe I'm doing well enough for now, thank you.” Kizmel lifted the glittering saber she'd gotten as Last Attack bonus to the dying sunlight; it had a simpler hilt than some swords she'd wielded, but the Damascus-like wavy patterns in the blade spoke well of its quality. Kirito suspected that the “Eldhi Arc” would last at least a couple of floors—maybe more, if properly upgraded.

I guess the most important thing is that it gets us through the Reliquary quest, he thought, lying back on the grass, head pillowed on his hands. There's still the Trial of the Strong, and I can't imagine getting to the Reliquary itself is going to be a piece of cake. Not if I'm right about what we're going to find at the end of it.

…Well, if we do, I certainly won't be jealous about missing one LA bonus. Not much. …Hm? That's strange. Argo hasn't said anything yet… Why is she grinning like that?

“Ah, Kirito,” Kizmel began, before he could pursue his unsettling realization. “I meant to say this as soon as we claimed victory… Happy birthday.”

“Eh?” Kirito sat up, blinking. “Wait, is it…?” He thought about it, and blinked again. “I guess that is today… Thanks?”

Lisbeth glanced between them, seeming only now to notice that Kizmel wasn't exactly a normal clearer. “Speaking of things that maybe should've been said earlier,” she started, “uh… am I missing something…?”

“Wait a second,” Kirito interrupted, too distracted by another thought to pay much attention to her question. “Kizmel…. How did you even know about that? I mean, I probably should've mentioned it at some point, but it completely slipped my mind…”

“Ah, that.” Kizmel shrugged. “I bought the information from Argo, of course.”

Of course. Not that I have any idea how she knew that either, but she's the Rat; I probably slipped up and said something ages ago, and never noticed… Hey, waaiitt a second…

“…How did you pay for it?” he asked warily. “You don't use Cor…”

“Perhaps 'bought' isn't the right word,” she admitted with a casual shrug. “Rather, Argo said she owed me a single answer, in return for… how did she put it? Ah, yes, a 'prime opportunity'.”

Feeling a sudden sense of sheer dread, Kirito turned, very slowly, to face Argo. “…What kind of 'opportunity'?”

The Rat grinned broadly—the look of someone who'd been just waiting for a punchline to go off—and withdrew a small object from a belt pouch. Shaped like a diamond with a red light near one point, Kirito had seldom seen the item type before, but he knew a recording crystal when he saw one. “Y'know, Kii-bou, you really oughtta get Kii-chan a bikini sometime. That lake would totally have been more fun that way, dontcha think?”

“…Argo…!”

Chapter 8: Chapter VIII: Minuet of Forest III

Chapter Text

Chapter VIII: Minuet of Forest III

October 8th, 2023

“Well,” Kirito remarked, staring at what awaited them in the final chamber, “I… guess I should've expected something like this. Kind of.”

“It is closer to what you assumed would be at the end of the first Trial,” Kizmel agreed. “And the inscription outside was blunt about what quality would be needed here.” Drawing her new saber, Eldhi Arc, she shot him a rueful glance. “I suppose we were lulled into complacency?”

The path to the Trial of the Strong had been a straightforward one, with none of the swamp nor awkward swim of the route to the Trial of the Wise. Out beyond Ilden, where they'd first gotten word of the quest from Argo, the mobs along the way had been strong, but the two of them had leveled up and improved their equipment enough for it not to be as dangerous as the first trip.

Kirito should've been suspicious when they reached the Trial's dungeon. A simple tower, reaching a full seventy-five meters into the air—taller even than the dungeon that had ended the Black Cats—the inscription before its now-familiar barred gate had spoken plainly that strength was what would be important inside, not wits. True to the warning, they'd found nothing more confusing than locked doors during the ascent—locked doors, and some of the strongest mobs Kirito had fought outside of a full party quest.

Foolishly, he'd still assumed that, after passing through the Swordmaster and Dark Elf-specific doors at the top, they would once again be met by ghosts asking questions, which while emotionally difficult wouldn't have been life-threatening.

Instead, at the center of a circular room altogether too similar to the one which had held The Commandant, a giant knight in black armor stood before them. At least three times Kirito's height, its head was bowed over hands clasped on the pommel of a sword big enough to walk on, and the name beneath its blood-red cursor—just above a full three life bars—was The Gatekeeper.

“Look on the bright side,” Kirito said now, drawing his own blade. “At least we don't have to argue with this Trial, right?”

Kizmel shook her head. “To think the day would come when I would prefer a battle to the death…” She was smiling, though, and she added, “But prefer it, I do. Let's go, my friend.”

“Right with you.”

Resolutely, they advanced on The Gatekeeper at a cautious pace, unsure of when it would take notice of them and attack. At first, it seemed oblivious to them; only when they passed within five meters of the armored giant did its head lift, and fiery red light flared to life behind its helmet's visor. “At last, you've come,” it rumbled, the voice about making Kirito jump in the air. “Untold years have I waited here, for those who would seek to uphold ancient treaty. Come here, have you, to claim the final key?”

“We have,” Kizmel replied, far less ruffled than her partner. “We are here to prove our strength, and open the path to the Reliquary.”

“Hah! A bold claim, Knight of Lyusula. Well, to have come this far, you've proven your wit, and your willingness to sacrifice for victory. Fine, then. Test your swords against mine, Elf and Swordmaster, and see if you've the right to the legacy of the ancients!”

The Gatekeeper lifted his sword then, swinging the heavy blade with frightening speed up to salute them. Kizmel brought up Eldhi Arc in return, followed belatedly by Kirito. The pose held for a moment—then The Gatekeeper took two long steps forward and swung his sword down, a heavy diagonal blow aiming to cut down both clearers in an instant.

They leapt to the sides at once, then charged forward together. “Kizmel, remember the Black Knights!” Kirito shouted, bringing his blade up to begin a simple Slant. “I don't know if we can knock his armor off, but the basic idea—”

“Understood!” Kizmel had likewise drawn back her sword, and together they unleashed their skills on The Gatekeeper's legs; Kirito's Slant taking the knight in the right knee, her Fell Crescent biting into his left thigh.

Both blades rebounded after penetrating only a short way through the heavy armor, but it was enough to make The Gatekeeper stagger. Improbably, once the brief wobble had passed, he actually chuckled; a deep, booming sound that sent a chill down Kirito's spine. “Yes, very good! But—do not be too hasty, young knights!”

It wasn't hard to guess what was coming next, and as large as he was, The Gatekeeper's every move was telegraphed before he made it. Even so, Kirito was startled by the sheer speed with which the huge knight spun around; had he and Kizmel not kept right on going after their first attack, they would've been instantly hit by The Gatekeeper's sword as it whistled through the air.

As it was, they were pushed back just from the pressure of the blade swinging close, prompting them to dodge back several paces, then break to either side to get around him again.

He only has the one sword, Kirito thought, hurriedly ducking as The Gatekeeper's sword came around again and nearly took off his head. If we keep to either side, he can't go after both of us at once. We just need to watch out for AoE—and if he uses usual Two-Handed Sword skills for that, I'll be able to predict him.

It was a trick that had worked for him before, after all. It hadn't saved Diavel, but no one else had died after Kirito began anticipating Illfang's pattern.

He and Kizmel had gotten in another solid hit each to The Gatekeeper's legs when the knight suddenly crouched, zweihander held out low to one side. Unlike the wide swings he'd used before, this careful stance lit up his blade with gleaming red, the clear sign of a Sword Skill about to be unleashed.

“Fall back!” Kirito yelled, instantly aborting the pre-motion he'd begun for a Vertical Arc. “He's starting a Cyclone—!”

His warning was a little late. Though he managed to leap back himself, Kizmel's blade had already lit up, past the point of canceling her attack. Yet instead of trying to pit her slender saber against The Gatekeeper's zweihander—trying to use her own skill to cancel out his, as Kirito might've done—she lunged forward, adding her own motion to the skill. The normally stationary Treble Scythe took her two steps toward The Gatekeeper, the spinning of her blade adding to her own momentum.

Against an opponent of equal height, it just would've gotten her smashed around by The Gatekeeper's arms instead of his sword. Given his sheer size, though, those two steps took her under his attack entirely, while simultaneously increasing her attack's power by striking both legs, effectively doubling the number of hits from the skill.

The Cyclone whirled The Gatekeeper's blade around in a complete circle an instant later, missing Kirito's face by a comfortable half-meter and going completely over the Dark Elf's head. She didn't get off completely unscathed, though; the full spin meant his legs were moving, too, and the circling step tripped her, then sent her sprawling to the side with a grunt of pain.

“Kizmel!” The moment the Cyclone was over, leaving a brief interval in which The Gatekeeper was immobile, Kirito charged back in, resuming his interrupted Vertical Arc. With the knight still crouched, the down-then-up slash carved a V into The Gatekeeper's torso; though more heavily armored than his legs, the location allowed for a more satisfactory chunk of his first HP bar to vanish.

“I'm all right!” The words came out in a cough, but Kizmel had already rolled away under her own power and made it up to her knees. “The injury is not serious!”

Taking a moment to glance at her HP in his HUD, Kirito was relieved to see she was right. It shouldn't have even surprised him, really, given that it was only a minor impact, but he was jumpier than usual; this battlefield reminded him entirely too much of the one that had killed three of his friends.

He didn't have much time to brood, though. The Gatekeeper had recovered as swiftly as Kizmel, and Kirito found himself having to hurriedly sidestep an Avalanche that would've cut him clean in two. Snarling wordlessly, his response was the vicious side-to-side of a Snake Bite; only half of the rushed skill managed to connect, tracing a deep red line in The Gatekeeper's arm, but Kizmel's Linear from behind more or less made up for the lack.

“Clever!” The Gatekeeper boomed, sounding as jovial as he had at the start. “I see that my squires would have been no match for you, as you climbed my Tower! But—how long can you endure, young knights?”

The next moments of frantic slashing, cutting, dodging, and parrying made that a question Kirito was wondering about, too. The Gatekeeper was so large that it was nearly impossible for the clearers to miss with any attack, but by the same token the boss' strikes, while easily predicted, were simply so large as to be difficult to avoid.

And, like Illfang all those months ago, The Gatekeeper was far faster than anything his size had any right to be.

Direct hits from The Gatekeeper's sword would've been fatal in just a few blows. They managed to mostly avoid that, but on the occasions when he had to block instead of dodge, Kirito found himself worrying almost as much; catching and turning aside another Avalanche on his sword, he winced at the way his HP was ground away.

He did more than wince when The Gatekeeper took one hand off his sword's hilt to drive his elbow back into Kizmel. Having just finished carving up his back again with another Treble Scythe, she'd been caught in a recovery period; she came out of it in time to roll with the hit instead of taking it full-on, but it still sent her reeling, HP dropping down into the yellow.

Kirito's response was to leap onto The Gatekeeper's sword to slash the inverted triangle of a Sharp Nail into the huge knight's helmet; though the boss' own stumble forced him to jump awkwardly back to the floor, it was enough to buy Kizmel time to get back on her feet and down a healing potion. She kept back to the edge of the room for several moments then, letting her health creep back up to safe levels while Kirito kept The Gatekeeper busy.

It was a good call, Kirito was soon certain. Before long it was her turn to run interference for him after a botched parry against a Horizontal Crush left him flying across the room, HP dropping alarmingly. Then, right about when they were both back in comfortable health again, they managed to finish off The Gatekeeper's first lifebar.

By this point, Kirito was really hoping this would be the last boss of the Reliquary quest. As soon as they were into the second lifebar, The Gatekeeper's tactics changed, throwing more Martial Arts skills into the mix; the sword skills had been bad enough before they started having to worry about being kicked at bad moments.

Somehow, they still endured. The Gatekeeper was powerful, but clearly balanced for a two-person party of about their level. While it had gotten a little faster along with the changed moveset, the actual skills used were nothing Kirito hadn't seen from other enemies in the past.

Even if having his Savage Fulcrum countered by the truly improbable sight of a several-meter-tall armored knight pulling off the Crescent Moon's backflip startled Kirito into momentary immobility from sheer disbelief. The way Kizmel took the wind out of The Gatekeeper's sails by catching him in the back with a Fell Crescent midair, dropping him with a resounding crash to the stone floor, made it all worth it.

They endured. Half an hour into the battle, they even took The Gatekeeper down to his last lifebar—at which point he let out a loud, booming laugh. “Yes, yes! Excellent, young knights! You are so close—so let me give you one final challenge!”

Naturally, that was when two Black Knights, “only” wearing their lighter chainmail armor and slimmer swords, burst into the room through concealed side doors.

…I'm really starting to hate this quest.

The second Black Knight's head flew away, shattering into oblivion, and Kizmel took the brief moments of immobility following the fatal Sword Skill to catch her breath. Missing the heavy armor that the pair they'd fought days before had worn, these two had been much easier to deal with, but between them and The Gatekeeper, she was beginning to tire.

This is supposed to be the last trial, she reminded herself, turning back to face The Gatekeeper. At the least, we should be able to rest for a short time after this—once we've finished him, at any rate.

She and Kirito had spent the last five minutes in a mad dance around the room, whittling down the Black Knights while trying not to be flattened by The Gatekeeper's enormous blade; once each, they'd had to pull back and use potions to recover again. Just now, with one Black Knight remaining, Kizmel had been dealing with it, while Kirito kept The Gatekeeper occupied. Now they could refocus on the greater threat.

“Almost got him!” Kirito yelled out to her as she ran back to join him. “Just—a little—more!”

Not for the first time, Kizmel found herself envying the Swordmasters' ability to judge a foe's life force at a glance. For now, though, she took his word for it, and launched into a Fell Crescent to cover the last of the distance while he countered an Avalanche from The Gatekeeper with a strong skill of his own. The leaping skill took her high enough into the air to slash her saber in a deep cut along the knight's chest, then carried her on past just ahead of an elbow strike.

Kirito's skill had won out against the Avalanche, and in the moment before The Gatekeeper could recover, he darted ahead to hit the back of the knight's right ankle with a brutally-quick Horizontal Arc. At the same time, Kizmel spun around from where her last attack had landed her and drove a Linear deep into his other leg, trying to match her partner's hamstringing attack.

Somewhat to Kizmel's surprise, The Gatekeeper let out a loud grunt and dropped to his knees, bracing himself against the floor with both hands. Kirito took immediate advantage, using the opportunity to trace the Savage Fulcrum's gleaming “4” into The Gatekeeper's stomach; wasting little time herself, Kizmel threw herself into the Treble Scythe's spin to inflict a similarly deep set of wounds into his back.

The Gatekeeper choked. “You are powerful indeed!” he got out, breathing audibly labored now. “Perhaps you are indeed worthy of the final Key! But—it is not over yet, young knights!”

Shoving himself up, The Gatekeeper unexpectedly spun while still on one knee, a low, whirling kick that forced both clearers back; Kizmel took it on her shield, but was still staggered, while Kirito turned it into an awkward leap that he only barely managed to land from with any semblance of control. Then, propped up on one foot and one knee, The Gatekeeper swept his sword out to the side, parallel to the floor, where it took on a bright golden gleam.

Kizmel didn't recognize the motion, and from the look on his face, neither did Kirito. Probably, she thought, it would've been akin to the Cyclone The Gatekeeper had used earlier, only stronger—if he had had the chance to unleash it.

The strike the massive knight had clearly intended to buy time for it, though, hadn't been quite good enough. Before he could release the power he was building up, Kizmel was using the distance his own attack had forced on her for the run-up to a Flashing Penetrator. Likewise, Kirito had simply immediately rebounded from his awkward landing, and came down on The Gatekeeper's sword again, his own blade already glowing; he'd barely touched down when he was leaping forward again, drawn by the charm channeled through his blade.

Kizmel's Flashing Penetrator drove hard into The Gatekeeper's back, hitting a single point with such force that his armor cracked and broke apart. Kirito's Sonic Leap carved a bright red line in an arc down his faceplate, taking part of the helmet clear off.

They each landed more or less where the other had started, and for a moment there was only silence.

Then the golden glow faded from The Gatekeeper's sword, and he slowly began to chuckle. “…Eons I have been here, waiting for someone to try and fulfill the ancient pact. Ages of nothing but waiting… and now my duty stands complete. Your strength is impressive, young knights—and your bond more so. Two in less than harmony could not have bested me.

“This victory is yours, young ones. Take the proof of your Strength, and seek the Reliquary. What you find there will have its price, but you have proven your ability to shoulder the burdens. …Farewell, young knights.”

With a last, quiet laugh, The Gatekeeper shattered into azure shards, scattering to the edges of the room and vanishing. Left behind was nothing but silence, and a pair of pendants that slowly sank to the floor where the huge knight had ended his long duty.

Heaving a deep sigh, Kirito flourished his sword and slid it back into its scabbard. “Well, that was a bit more exciting than I expected,” he remarked. “So… which of us got the Last Attack bonus?”

Kizmel sheathed her own blade, shaking her head. “You worry about this now? Your priorities are sometimes very odd, my friend… I think you struck the final blow, barely, although I'm unsure if that had any significance in this battle. The real reward, after all, lies before us.”

“True.”

The two of them walked up to where The Gatekeeper had been, and each picked up one of the ruby pendants that had been left behind. Simple, unadorned jewels, yet Kizmel could feel a subtle power from them; The Gatekeeper had referred to them as keys, and she could easily believe their power would open some final lock.

“I doubt there is anything more to be done here,” she said, slipping the chain of her Strength Pendant around her neck. “Shall we return to Fort Renya, and consult with Countess Ryella?”

“Yeah.” Kirito frowned, sweeping his hand to bring up his ethereal map. “We're probably close to finding the boss room in the labyrinth; the sooner we find the Reliquary, the better. I don't want to be late for a Floor Boss.”

“Nor I.” Kizmel raised her hand for the Swordmasters' traditional “high-five”, and smiled as his hand met hers. “Let's go then, Kirito, and finish this quest—before it finishes us.”

Though they'd visited Fort Renya briefly since beginning the quest, in order to wash off the muck they'd accumulated during the conquest of the Trial of Wisdom, this was the first time they'd been back to the central tower in those five days. The office at the top was bathed in afternoon light from its wide windows when the two clearers entered, and Countess Ryella was waiting for them.

She stood as they entered, gaze immediately going to the pendants they wore. “Welcome back, Lady Kizmel, Swordmaster Kirito. I see your efforts have brought you victory over the Trials. Congratulations on passing them; I suspect they were not easy.”

Kirito shrugged his shoulders uneasily, remembering the questions that had been directed at both himself and his partner in the first two trials. If he was honest, as irritating as The Gatekeeper had been, it had still been less of a pain to face something they could just stab until it died. “We managed, Milady,” he said simply.

“Obviously. Well, now that you have returned with proof of your worth, the time has come to fulfill the last of my duty here.” Ryella gestured for them to sit, lowering herself back into her own chair as they did. Resting her elbows on her desk, she clasped her hands under her chin and continued, “How much have you learned about the Reliquary, during the Trials?”

“Very little,” Kizmel admitted after a brief glance at Kirito. “The Trials themselves gave only vague warnings of what price we might be expected to pay for the Reliquary's contents. Kirito tells me that Swordmaster legends suggest a powerful weapon lies within, but those legends have proven to be… imprecise, at best.”

Ryella nodded, apparently unsurprised. “There is truth in both, but that is far from the full story. There is, indeed, a powerful weapon kept within the Reliquary: the Baneblade, a sword forged in the days before the Great Separation by Dark Elven smiths for the Swordmasters of the day, during a time when our peoples were allied. Even after all this time, I expect it remains quite strong—but be warned, Swordmaster Kirito. The nature of its power is likely to draw attention to you, possibly very unwelcome attention.”

Why can't anything be simple? I should've known “Diavel” wasn't just spouting flavor text… “What do you mean, Milady?” Kirito asked aloud, not at all sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“The Baneblade is a well-made sword in its own right,” she told him. “Even without invoking its ancient magic, it is deadly against the monsters that roam the Steel Castle. However, it was forged as a weapon specifically against evil, and so it is linked to the charms that protect human lands from their own criminals. According to my family's lore, the Baneblade's edge will be felt most keenly by those who have been marked as outcasts by those charms.”

He mentally translated that into game-logic, and found himself wincing. In other words, this “Baneblade” has a damage bonus against orange players. It's a PvP weapon—in a game where PvP is literally murder. She's right, if people find out I have something like that…

Well, there were some who'd probably approve; after all, orange players were criminals, right? “Nice” people didn't turn orange at all, and those who did were dangerous, so it would only help if there was someone who had an advantage against them… That was probably how certain people would see it. And at the same time, it'll make me the target of every orange player there is.

A double-edged sword, for sure. Yet Kirito remembered Morte, and the murder of Naga, and couldn't bring himself to try and back out of the quest now.

Ryella seemed to see something in his eyes—or maybe her AI was just programmed to accept silence as an adequate response in that context—because she nodded slowly, and turned her attention to Kizmel. “The Baneblade is not, however, the only artifact within the Reliquary. Tell me, Lady Kizmel, have you ever heard tales of elves granted the charms of Swordmasters?”

“Viscount Yofilis mentioned the idea to me some months ago, yes,” Kizmel replied, tilting her head thoughtfully. “Though he was unsure if there was any truth to it, and if so, how it might've been accomplished.”

“Well, the tales are indeed true. I do not believe it has occurred since the Great Separation, but ages ago such alliances were indeed made.” Ryella leaned forward, a small smile playing at her lips. “There were, in those times, two ways in which a Dark Elf might receive Mystic Scribing, and all it entails—the first being to marry a Swordmaster.”

Kirito choked. M-marry?! I know what I said that one time, but it was just the only thing I could think of to say instead of what I was really thinking, and it was just as stupid then, and…! He shot a glance at Kizmel, and immediately regretted it; though she was amply covered by her armor just then, he couldn't help but remember what she looked like coming out of a lake in just her singlet—not to mention the times they'd shared a bath, the first of which having been before she had any clue about human standards of modesty.

Then there was her casual ease with physical contact. Though she'd once mentioned, not long after they met, that her people didn't touch often, Kizmel had shown no issues at all; from early on, it had been the elf girl's habit to hug him and Asuna both, in greeting and farewell.

He'd have been lying if he claimed he hadn't enjoyed it, even if—as close to a hikikomori as he'd been before SAO—he still had trouble getting used to it. And she was certainly a lot of fun to be around, on top of being a reliable battle partner—but—

Marry?! That's—I'm only—urk!

Realizing he was getting completely off-track—and staring—Kirito wrenched his eyes away from his partner; although not before he caught a glimpse of her looking briefly at him, a faint but noticeable blush on her face. “Ah,” Kizmel began with a cough, “I believe that would require Her Majesty's permission, Milady. Unless you've already heard from the capital…?”

He was saved from having to wonder about her odd tone of voice by Ryella's quiet chuckle. “You are correct, Lady Kizmel—mostly. In any case, that method is no longer available; no Swordmaster remains with the knowledge to invoke the charm in such a ceremony. There is, however, another way: the invocation of the Treaty of the Three Races.”

Desperate to get the subject far away from marriage as quickly as possible, Kirito hastily put in, “Treaty of the Three Races, Milady?”

“A treaty signed between the Nine Kingdoms of Man, the Forest Elves, and the Dark Elves,” Ryella explained, “when the Fallen became a threat to us all in an ancient era. A small group of warriors chosen from all three were gathered, and granted the powers and weapons of each. The Baneblade dates back to this conflict, and within the Reliquary lies a copy of the original manuscript. When the oath recounted there is sworn, the ancient Treaty is invoked, and the elf is granted the Swordmasters' power.”

Kizmel leaned forward, literally on the edge of her chair. “Such a thing exists, Milady?” she said, sounding more eager than Kirito had ever heard her.

“It does, Lady Kizmel. However,” Ryella cautioned, lifting a hand warningly, “as with the Baneblade, invoking that treaty is not without cost. If you do so… you will no longer be counted as a Pagoda Knight, nor indeed a Knight of Lyusula at all. You will still be welcome within our borders, but you will be counted as a Swordmaster—a friend, yes, but only that.” Her gaze and tone were both somber, staring deep into Kizmel's eyes. “If you seek power to aid the liberation of the Steel Castle, Lady Kizmel, you will find it in the Reliquary. You must, however, be prepared for the cost.”

For a moment, his partner was still, and silent. Then she took a long, deep breath, and settled back into her chair. “I understand, Milady,” she said quietly. “I… had suspected such a thing already, actually.”

She had? Oh, right; that was what her test back in the first Trial was, wasn't it? But… is she really okay with this? Of course, it's not like she's even suggested taking a break to go home since she teamed up with me, but still…

Ryella considered the two of them for a moment, then nodded once more. “In that case, I have nothing further to say on the matter. Lady Kizmel, Swordmaster Kirito, you will find the Reliquary on the northwest edge of this floor, beyond the Lethe Forest. Once you have found your way through the forest, the pendants you bear will open the final locks. Then you must make your choices. For myself… my duty ends here.”

“Thank you for your assistance, Countess Ryella,” Kizmel said formally, coming to her feet. “We'll take our leave, then.”

Kirito echoed the sentiment and went to follow his partner out of the office—but just as he was about to step out, Ryella called out to him one more time. “Swordmaster Kirito? If Lady Kizmel does, indeed, choose to walk the same path as the Swordmasters… please, take care of her.”

“Of course,” he said, without hesitation. “She's my friend. I won't let anything happen to her. I promise.”

October 9th, 2023

When they passed through Mydo again the next morning, heading northwest for the Lethe Forest, Kizmel could see that she and Kirito weren't alone in believing that the battle to completely clear the Thirty-Seventh Floor would soon be upon them. There were more Swordmasters in town than usual, and the merchants were doing brisk business; Agil in particular, she noticed, was making quite a profit, his wares' quality attracting customers despite his cutthroat practices.

Perhaps more telling, she caught sight of the blacksmith girl they'd worked with against The Hobgoblin's forces with a long line at her stall, many Swordmasters obviously wishing to prepare themselves for what was to come.

Kirito and I should probably seek her out as well, when we've returned from the Reliquary, Kizmel thought, sparing Lisbeth a quick nod as they passed. My new blade is still fresh, but Kirito's hasn't been maintained since we began this quest…

An idle thought, though important, but she knew she was using it to distract herself. She kept her focus on her surroundings anyway, for as long as she could; after they'd passed Lind and his Divine Dragons at the northern edge of Mydo, though, and passed onto the trails leading to more dangerous places, she had to admit to herself the truth.

Watching the Swordmasters go about their business, readying themselves for battle, was simply easier than facing up to the choice she was going to have to make, when they reached the Reliquary. It was something she'd known in her heart was coming from the moment Diavel's shade hinted at it, and she thought she'd already made her decision, but actually facing the reality was proving to be harder than she had believed.

Kizmel could tell that Kirito was preoccupied, as well. As they turned from the trail leading to the labyrinth onto a side path to the northwest, he'd still said almost nothing since they'd set out. Even when they were attacked midway by a pair of Sabertooth Jaguars, the only sound he made was a wordless battlecry, before cutting the first clean in half.

After they'd finished the now-minor foes and resumed their trek, Kizmel finally cleared her throat, unwilling to let the silence continue. “Do you have any idea what this 'Lethe Forest' is likely to have in store for us, Kirito? You looked as if you recognized the name, when Countess Ryella brought it up.”

Kirito started, then looked at her with a rueful smile. “Eh? Oh… Kind of. I've never heard of 'Lethe' as a forest, but it's also the name of a river in the underworld of a human mythology. It's supposed to make anyone who drinks it forget… well, everything. Put together with everything else that's been going on, I've got a pretty good idea of what kind of problems we'll have with this forest.”

She thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “Ah. Much like the Forest of Wavering Mists, then. We should expect some difficulty finding our path?”

“Pretty sure, yeah,” he agreed. “Depending on the version of the story, there's a trick to finding the right path… which I hope we can figure out soon, because I think we're here.”

Kizmel stopped as soon as he did, seeing the stark difference between the forest they'd been walking through and what lay ahead of them. The dark wood of the trees behind them was a fairly normal mix; ahead, divided by an invisible but obvious boundary, the trees were all a pale white, bearing leaves of a strangely metallic silver.

The Lethe Forest was also filled with a deep white mist, making it nearly impossible to see very far despite the bright morning light. And… why do I seem to be hearing a faint melody…?

“…I should've known it was going to be this bad,” Kirito said after a moment. “With our luck, my map isn't going to work in there, either.”

“It won't, Kii-bou. Already been in there m'self, actually, and it's as bad as you think.”

This time they both jumped, whirling to see a figure melting into view, leaning against a tree beside the path. The first thing Kizmel noticed was the grin, one that would've put a cat to shame, followed by whiskers, on a face framed by a brown hood.

She took her hand off the hilt of her saber, sighing. “Argo. Sneaking up on people like that isn't very polite, you know.”

“Aw, and here I came all this way to help ya guys, Kii-chan!” Argo stepped away from the tree, her continued grin belying her complaint. “Figured your quest would take this way sooner or later, so I checked it out. Wanna buy a guide?”

Kirito eyed her suspiciously. “Didn't you just say maps don't work in there, Argo?”

“I also asked if you wanted a guide, not a guide book, Kii-bou. Place like this, maybe you want some help finding your way through? I got a couple of ideas.” She lifted both hands palm up, looking defensive, when they both gave her narrow looks. “I haven't tested 'em yet 'cause it's kinda spooky in there solo—and the first time I went in, I had to use a teleport crystal to get out. But c'mon, guys, you know you want me with you.”

“And your fee, Argo?” Kizmel asked warily. The last time she'd “bought” something from the info broker, it had been in exchange for accidentally providing blackmail material on her partner; while she'd personally enjoyed the incident, she wasn't especially inclined to give the Rat another opportunity.

Or to share, if there was one.

“Don't look at me like that, Kii-chan,” Argo admonished her cheerfully. “My fee is the info about what all is in the Forest, that you'd otherwise be selling me afterward—if you found your way around at all. Fair enough?”

Kizmel exchanged a silent look with Kirito, who shrugged helplessly. At her resigned nod, he said, “Deal, Argo. Not sure what you're going to get out of it, though—and I don't think you'll be able to come with us into the Reliquary at the end.” Even so, he brought up the “party invitation”, triggering a matching image in front of the info broker.

“That's okay, Kii-bou. I've got barter for the story you'll have for me from that already, if things go the way I think they will.” Before either of them could question that ominous remark, Argo accepted the invitation and casually sauntered ahead of them to the mouth of the trail leading into the Forest. “So… Lethe, eh? Greek, usually translated as 'forgetfulness'… but I think here it's more like 'oblivion' or 'concealment'. Let's go find out, yeah?”

There were a lot of different gameplay conventions that irritated Argo. Even if SAO hadn't had the hazard of real death, the usual annoyances of escort missions, status effects, and block puzzles would've gotten to her as much as always. But if there was one thing that got to her professionally, as Aincrad's premier info broker, it was the one that pertained most directly to Lethe Forest.

Even in the Forest of Wavering Mists on the Third Floor, the map had at least recorded the general path a player had actually crossed. Lethe, on the other hand, stubbornly remained a giant blank space, which meant that even if she found the right way, Argo couldn't sell the exact path.

Be worth something if I can find the trick to this place, she thought, following closely behind her clearer friends. Still. Unless there's something besides this “Reliquary” around here, nobody's gonna care enough to buy even that. Stupid, non-standard quests… The hell are ya playing at, Kayaba?

Oh, well. It would still be worth something, in the end. Just the chance to get more blackmail material was almost worth getting lost. Especially if she was right about what they were going to find in the Reliquary.

“I have to admit,” Kizmel commented after they'd been wandering Lethe's paths for a good fifteen minutes, “I'm not certain it was truly necessary for Countess Ryella's soldiers to be guarding the Reliquary all this time. Even if someone managed, somehow, to acquire the proofs from the Trials, this forest is proving a formidable barrier itself.”

“I'm trying to remember the last time I visited a place this confusing myself,” Kirito said, peering uselessly into the mist ahead of them. “I know I haven't been in a maze like this in Aincrad before… Hey, didn't we pass that fallen tree five minutes ago? Is the forest actually turning us around, or are we just having that much trouble keeping track?”

“Could be either one, Kii-bou,” Argo told him, glancing quickly back the way they'd come; something was making the hair on the back of her neck twitch, and she didn't like it. “Gotta admit, I'm used ta being able to rely on the map, but it's just as likely the forest messing with us. Remember the story with the forest kids?”

For a second, she wasn't sure he would; the original version had come out a decade before he was born, after all. Still, there had been that remake back in '11; she'd played it herself when she'd found it in a used bin a few years later, and she wasn't that much older than Kii-bou.

After a second, he nodded with a grimace. “Oh, yeah. That one. Take any path except the right one, and you'd end up right where you started… I haven't thought about that in years.”

Me, either. I was waitin' for the VR version of the Wild when we got stuck here… BGM for the woods was nice, though. Argo snorted irritably. There isn't any here at all. C'mon, Kayaba, if you were gonna flout copyright anyway, why not give us some good music with it?

Aloud, she said, “Look on the bright side, Kii-bou. All we gotta do is keep track of what we've seen before, and sooner or later we'll find all the right paths.” At least that was possible here; the one bone Lethe had thrown them was that the undergrowth was too thick for it to really be possible to go off the beaten paths, just like in the old games.

Following Kirito down the next randomly-chosen path through pale woods, Kizmel shook her head wearily. “I suppose that method will work, but I admit I would prefer to avoid the hours that's likely to take.”

Argo grinned. “What, you got somewhere you'd rather be than a stroll in a forest with Kii-bou? Or am I third wheel on your date?”

As she'd hoped, Kirito choked, flushing red. “This isn't a date, Argo!”

Less expected, but no less welcome, was the way Kizmel's dusky skin turned a shade or two darker. “This is purely business, Argo,” she said, affecting a dignity at odds with her face—which, Argo noted with amusem*nt, was not turned in Kirito's direction. “In any case, Pagoda Knights are forbidden from such relationships without specific permission from the Queen herself.”

Argo snickered. “Sure. Keep tellin' yourselves that.” It might even have been true, for all she knew; she never had been able to get all the details out of those two about the elf's duties and responsibilities. Doesn't mean it's always gotta be that way, though. Kii-chan ain't a regular NPC, and if the system isn't messing around with them, I'll quit being an info broker and take up sewing…

Her nerves twitched again, and as they rounded a bend in the path—coming across that same fallen tree again, she noticed absently—she took a long look back. Technically, she knew, there was no way to “feel” anything in SAO except through the basic five senses, which only told a player what their stats were high enough for the system to allow them to know. Argo knew that, but she also had an increasing number of reports from high-level players about somehow feeling an ambush just before it happened, even when Searching didn't find anything.

Some of those players she trusted a lot, and in a place like this she was inclined to err on the side of superstition. Only thing is, Lethe Forest doesn't seem to have any mobs… unless…?

“Do either of you hear that?” Kizmel asked suddenly, drawing Argo's attention forward again. “It sounds like… music? It is faint, but…”

Argo exchanged a surprised look with Kirito. Kii-chan's hearing BGM? That's… weird… And there wasn't any BGM before. So why… Oh, I'm an idiot!

Abandoning her rearguard position, she stalked past a startled Kirito and strained her virtual ears. “Can't believe I forgot that,” she grumbled. “Oi, Kii-bou! A couple of the stories had that, remember? If you can hear the music, you're on the right path. I think the stories were right.”

He stared at her, then slapped his forehead. “Right… I should've remembered that, too. Well, that should make this easier.” Kirito turned to his partner. “Your ears are better, Kizmel, you'd better take point.”

The elf girl smiled. “Of course. Let's be going, then, and leave this maze behind us.” She took off at a jog, long ears twitching; Kirito followed closely behind.

Argo snickered again, trotting after the pair. “Wow, Kii-chan. Don't think I've ever heard you get that frustrated with… well, anything. You okay?”

Kizmel glanced over her shoulder at the info broker. “Over the past week, Argo, I've faced emotional turmoil, been covered in mud, and faced more tentacled monsters than I ever feared could possibly exist. Now we're in a forest more difficult to pass through than the one in which I met Kirito. Believe me, I will be quite pleased to leave this place behind me. Although,” she went on, voice softening, “I admit I'm also eager to see the reward at the end of this quest…”

Yep. Definitely something important. Following the Dark Elf through the mist-filled forest, no longer passing the same trees over and over as the melody gradually grew louder, Argo chewed on the hints her friends had dropped. Whatever they're after, Kii-chan's looking forward to it more than Kii-bou, so it's not just some nifty bit of gear. So…
She snickered under her breath. This'll be fun.

Even with the trick to Lethe Forest worked out, it still took another half hour to see anything but more white trees. Eventually, though, a stone wall loomed out of the fog, heavily damaged by age but still standing. A tall double gate was set in the middle, looking to be in marginally better condition than the rest of the wall.

Ominously, in front of it lay a large pile of bones, mixed with broken pieces of armor, two swords, and a pair of shields.

Seeing it, Kirito laid a hand on Kizmel's shoulder, pulling her to a halt before she could head straight for the bones. “Hold on,” he said. “I think I know what these are.” He drew the sword from his back, casting a baleful gaze on the hapless remains.

Argo checked her own claws and crouched low. “Yep. After everything else? No question what we got here.”

Lifting one curious eyebrow, Kizmel drew Eldhi Arc. “At this point, I'm not even surprised… Well, they are between us and the Reliquary. Shall we spring this trap, my friends?”

“Of course,” Kirito agreed. Argo only grinned, and when the two swordsmen stepped carefully forward, she followed right along.

After everything, she was completely unsurprised when, at their approach, the bones shook, rattled, and levitated, snapping together with a series of disturbing cracks. In seconds, what had been a pile of bones and battered armor had become a pair of Skeleton Knights, wielding chipped and notched—but still obviously sharp—swords.

Two Skeleton Knights, three Swordmasters, Argo thought, bearing fangs with her grin. Well. Two Swordmasters and an elf, but what's the difference now? “C'mon, boneheads!” she called cheerily. “Come and get us!”

She didn't actually get to find out if they could be successfully taunted; just as she spoke, Kirito launched himself at the left Skeleton Knight with a Sonic Leap, while Kizmel charged the right with Fell Crescent. Both attacks rebounded off shields, but the Skeletons were pushed back half a step themselves, left off-balance.

In that moment of vulnerability, Argo catapulted into the fray with an Acute Dive, the charge-type claw skill getting her in under Kizmel's target's guard. There was a hideous screeching noise of metal on bone, and then she was past, skidding to a stop on the wild grass in front of the Reliquary's gate.

The post-motion freeze on Acute Claw was brief, and she was quickly spinning on her heel and rushing Kirito's opponent with the blinding speed that kept her fragile info broker's build alive. As he hit it from the front with a Horizontal Arc to the ribs, she ripped into its spine with the X-shaped double slashes of Fatal Claw.

Heh; either this ain't balanced for three, or it didn't count on Kii-bou or Kii-chan. It's not at all about numbers, after all! Bouncing away from the Skeleton Knight's attempt to spin and gut her, Argo leapt back to her first target, currently recoiling from Kizmel's Treble Scythe. You wanna beat us, bring some friends!

After all, Kii-bou and Aa-chan had once brought her in on taking out a Floor Boss with just twelve people. Three-on-two on a couple of elite mooks was nothing.

Argo did have one bad moment when she launched a three-hit Fury Claw on one of the Skeletons just in time to take a Horizontal to the nose, taking off a larger chunk of health than she was comfortable with; unluckily for the pile of bones, her friends took that as an invitation to hit it from both sides at once. Before it could adapt to the change in attack patterns, Kizmel had lopped off its sword arm, and Kirito's vicious Snake Bite sent its head flying to bounce off the Reliquary's gate and shatter into a million azure shards.

Vengeance was the Rat's, in any case. The remaining Skeleton Knight tried to take advantage of the distraction to hit Kirito in the back, at which point Argo rushed it from behind in turn, slashing its spine from right to left, back, and back again in a more successful Fury Claw. With a clattering of teeth, like a dry imitation of a death groan, it fell back into a pile of bone and blew to polygons.

With both gate wardens gone, Kirito spun in a quick circle to make sure nothing else was coming, then straightened from his combat stance. In a quick flicker of motion, he swept his sword up to the left and back down to the right before smoothly sheathing it on his back; watching with a curious expression, Kizmel abruptly slashed a quick “X” in the air before slipping her own Eldhi Arc back in its scabbard.

Observing the silent byplay, Argo snickered, ostentatiously flicking the nonexistent blood off her claws. Yeah, we're good. See that, world?

“Well,” she said then, turning her attention to the large double-door leading into the Reliquary, “I think this is probably where I split, guys. I'm betting you've got the only way to open the door, right?”

“I suspect so, yes.” Kizmel approached, peering close to examine an inscription scrawled across the place the doors met, over a pair of round depressions. “Hm… Yes. To open the way, we must present proof of our Wisdom. That most likely means…”

“Right.” Kirito moved to join her, pulling one of the jewels he wore from his neck. “Wisdom, huh? Well, we did have to get through a maze to get here.”

Together, Swordmaster and Elf placed sapphire gems into the insets, and after a moment's pause the doors ponderously swung open, leading into a place with much better lighting than the misty Lethe Forest. Natural light, if Argo was any judge, suggesting whatever was on the other side wasn't in any better shape than the ruins her friends had reported before.

“Okay, then. I'll leave the rest ta you guys.” Grinning, she waved them toward the opened path. “Just remember to tell me what you find inside!”

“Not for free, Argo,” Kirito retorted, walking in step with Kizmel through the doorway. “Especially not after that stunt with the recording crystal the other day.”

“Don't worry, I got your payment together already. Trust me, you'll like it. Just watch yourselves in there, 'kay? Who knows if there's still a boss waitin' for ya.”

“We will be careful, Argo,” Kizmel promised. “Till later, then.”

Argo watched them vanish into the Reliquary, and her grin slipped. Something ain't right here, she thought, glancing warily about. I dunno what, but… I don't like it.

She couldn't actually see anything amiss, but she wasn't going to ignore it when her instincts were shouting at her. Trying to retrace the path out—which, with the way this quest had gone, would probably have the Reliquary door as the reset point, instead of the Forest entrance—just did not feel safe to her.

I mean it, guys. Be careful. Whatever's gonna happen next, I think it's up to you. Digging into a belt pouch, Argo withdrew a shimmering blue crystal and held it high. “Teleport, Mydo!”

A quick flash as a sphere of azure light whisked the Rat away, and the Reliquary's entrance stood silent and undisturbed… and still open.

Kirito could recall from memory at least six variations of the area he believed served as the basis for the Reliquary. Conditions ranged from a pristine, ornate temple, to just a pedestal in a forest clearing, with no sign that any larger structure had ever been there. They all had one unifying element, one that Countess Ryella's words had confirmed also existed here, but beyond that he wasn't prepared to guess what they'd find.

When he and Kizmel emerged from the passage through the Reliquary's thick outer wall, they found themselves in a place mostly open to the air. Many, if not most, of the walls of a temple still stood around them, broken but still forming the outline of rooms and hallways, yet the ceilings and roof beyond were long gone.

Stepping onto a marble floor, broken in places to let vegetation grow through what had obviously once been a grand entrance foyer, the two paused. “This place… I can almost feel what it was once like,” Kizmel murmured, looking about with an expression approaching reverence. “It's in ruins now, but you can still see what it was before, somehow.”

Kirito nodded slowly. Soft, warm sunlight filtered through the mist above the Reliquary, but he felt a chill in his bones anyway. The Full-Dive entry in the series hadn't come out yet when SAO launched, so he only had an old, flat-screen knowledge of the temple the Reliquary was based on. Being there, he was learning, was a very different experience.

A recognizable, not-quite-lawyer-friendly remix of the appropriate music acting as BGM added to the sheer sense of unreality.

“I've seen artwork of what this place might've looked like when it was intact,” he said softly. “This is… almost as impressive, actually.” Giving himself a quick shake, trying to dispel the sense of nostalgia the Reliquary had wrapped him in, he laid a hand on his partner's shoulder. “Come on. What we're after is probably in the center of the Reliquary.”

Kizmel twitched, took a long breath, and nodded. “Yes, of course. Let's go.”

Across the foyer, up the stairs, and through the first door they went, finally entering the Reliquary proper. Other than the soft BGM and distant bird calls, it was eerily quiet; the only consistent sounds as they navigated the ruined halls were those of their own boots on stone. Between the open roof and the mist above, even that was muffled, adding to the sense of the place being not quite real.

There were no mobs to be found, which on the one hand Kirito was grateful for—he didn't really want to be delayed by fighting, after all the time they'd invested in this quest already—but on the other, he found the total absence of life other than intruding plants more than a little spooky.

Trying to distract himself from that as they passed through a wide chamber with a ruined fountain in its center, he glanced at a mural still visible on one wall. He'd seen several like it in the Trial temples, but had never really had a chance to examine them in any detail. Now that he did…

Noticing now that there was something just a bit odd about the people depicted, in what otherwise seemed an unremarkable painting of some ancient battle, Kirito shot a curious glance at his partner. “Hey, Kizmel? Do you have any idea what that's supposed to be about?” Probably just Aincrad background lore, nothing of any importance, but in SAO he could never tell for sure; either way, it was likely to be interesting.

She paused mid-stride, turning to look at the artwork herself. “…I've no more idea than you of the events depicted,” she said after a moment. “If you're referring to the fact that the humans and elves have wings, however, I do know something of it. Well, old stories, anyway; legends even to my people, much like other tales of the world before the Great Separation.

“It is said,” Kizmel continued, as they resumed their trek into the next hall, “that in the old world the magic of your people and mine alike was such that we could even fly in the sky on ethereal wings. Indeed, it was supposedly one of the simplest uses of magic, as natural to the people of that era as walking is to us.”

Kirito blinked. “Flying was that easy for them? Must've been nice.” Right off the top of his head, he could think of at least a dozen times just clearing Aincrad where being able to fly would've saved a lot of trouble, leaving aside the possibility of just going right to the Ruby Palace.

Which is why we can't fly in SAO, he reminded himself ruefully, stepping over a fallen marble statue. Besides, I'm not even sure how that would work, in Full-Dive…

Kizmel nodded in agreement, sighing wistfully. “Indeed. Alas, the stories say that it was also deeply tied to the source of magic which was left behind in the Great Separation, more so than most spells. In Aincrad, there are not even frail imitations in the minor charms that remain to us.”

“That's too bad.” Rounding a corner to a staircase leading higher up, Kirito came to an abrupt halt. “Yeah… really too bad. We could really use wings right about now.”

The stairwell was still there, at least. So were some of the stairs—jutting out from the walls in small ledges, at irregular intervals, between which was a drop whose bottom was lost in shadow, suggesting it was too far even for clearers of their levels to survive.

Kizmel eyed it warily. “…Perhaps there should've been a Trial dedicated to proving our agility?”

In the end, the Reliquary did seem to be truly empty of mobs, but Kirito felt the place made up for it by involving more platforming than any place he'd yet seen in SAO. Fortunately his and Kizmel's strength and agility stats proved to be up the challenge, but by the time they finally reached a door requiring the second set of pendants—Strength, this time—he was sure his real-world body was drenched in sweat. His avatar certainly was, although by grace of system limitations it was evaporating fast.

Pushing open that door, Kirito was mostly unsurprised by what lay before them. A large space with a marble floor, very similar to the Reliquary's entrance, with columns of the same stone set at regular intervals to the sides. Around half of them had fallen; possibly fortunately, there was no sign at all of the ceiling they'd once supported.

The chamber was otherwise empty save for a pedestal with an ornate chest on top, with an inset obviously meant for the final pendant—and in front of the pedestal, a small dais with another, much shorter pedestal, a sword thrust point-first into it.

“That must be the Baneblade,” Kizmel murmured, walking in step with Kirito to cross the chamber. “And behind it, in that chest…”

“Yeah. Must be.” Kirito was focused on the blade itself as they approached, though. As they got closer, he could tell it wasn't quite what he'd been expecting: the hilt was silver, as was the wing-shaped hand guard; that guard was folded up against the edges of the blade.

The blade itself was visibly rusted, chipped, and notched; the very image of a weapon that had really had been left unprotected against the elements for who knew how many years, not the nigh-indestructible weapon he'd honestly been expecting.

Doesn't mean it isn't worth anything, though, Kirito reminded himself. There's no way that a quest this big is going to end with a joke weapon. Besides, don't I remember one version was—

They were almost to the dais when a chuckle came out of nowhere from behind them, making both of them jump in surprise. “Now, now, Black Swordsman! I think that's far enough.”

Kirito whirled, hand going to the sword at his back, and quickly spotted the owner of the voice. A lean man in a poncho, carrying a dagger whose edges gleamed a sickly green; he rippled out of the shadows as a Hiding effect stronger than Kirito's Search skill was broken.

His blood ran cold. He'd seen this man before, more than once. It had been several months, and they'd only come face to face once, but Kirito remembered all too well the man's efforts in the past. “It's you… Morte's boss.”

Kizmel inhaled sharply at his side. “The 'player-killer'?” she said, the unaccustomed gamer-speak coming a bit awkwardly from her.

“Yo. It's been a while, hasn't it?” The PKer grinned under his poncho's hood. “I told you we'd meet again, Black Swordsman. It's about time I paid you back for interfering. You cost me a clean sweep on the Fifth Floor—not to mention a guild wipe a couple months ago.”

Kirito's blood turned icier still, then the heat of rage started to war with it. “You don't mean—!”

The air beside the man wavered, and suddenly there was someone else standing there. He wore fairly standard gear for a player at or near the frontlines, mostly unremarkable—except for the sword he wore at his side, a long blade even narrower than Asuna's rapiers, and the skull-like mask covering his face, through which all Kirito could see was a pair of bright red eyes.

“Hey, boss,” the newcomer said, his voice oddly deep and staccato. “This is, the guy? The one, who ruined, Johnny's little trap?”

“That's him,” the player in the poncho confirmed. “The Black Swordsman… and his NPC pet. You can call me PoH, boy,” he called to Kirito; his grin was showing teeth, like a macabre parody of Argo. “You might say I'm the 'Prince of Hell'… and I've been looking for you.”

“How?” Kirito demanded hotly. “How could you even know to come here?” His gaze flicked up to the pair's cursors—both of which, he saw now, were a bright orange. The color of criminals. “Argo wouldn't sell to orange players. And if 'Johnny' is who I think he is, he can't be your conduit anymore, either—”

“The Rat sells to plenty of other people, though, Black Swordsman,” PoH told him. “Including other info brokers, who aren't as particular. Wasn't hard to find where you were going, and then you were nice enough to open the doors for us.”

“What do you hope to gain here?” Kizmel demanded. “From what Kirito has said, your aims are greater than a mere two clearers. And if you believe you can defeat us both—”

“Be quiet, you fake girl.” The masked player's fingers tapped at the hilt of his blade. “We kill you, then we take, that sword.” His mouth twisted in a smile as ugly as his leader's. “We can guess, what it is. Can't let the clearers, have it.”

“Yeah, that,” PoH agreed. “And you… you may act like any old solo, Black Swordsman, but you've been in the right place at the right time a little too often. It's about time you left the stage—especially before you pick up at that sword.”

Kirito's fingers tightened around his blade's hilt. The PKers were overestimating him; he'd just gotten lucky a few times, and he was more than a little afraid that the Baneblade would be more trouble than it was worth. Its nature reminded him all too much of another item he'd gotten stuck with, which still remained in his inventory even then. If anything, the implications of the Baneblade were likely to help PoH's cause along.

Doesn't look like they agree, though. And either way…

“They were behind Joe's false information,” Kizmel murmured in his ear. “They've struck us before—and they mean to kill us now, Kirito. Whether they speak the truth or not, their intentions are obvious.”

He took a deep, steadying breath. Right. Doesn't matter what the reasons are, does it? There's only one thing these guys ever do.

“C'mon, nothing's gonna happen if we just stand here staring at each other!” PoH flung back his poncho, spinning his dagger in one hand. “Get ready, XaXa!”

The masked “XaXa” drew his blade—Kirito recognized it now as an estoc, a weapon even more specialized for thrusting than most rapiers—with a flourish even the Black Swordsman was unwillingly impressed by. “Two of us, against one. And his doll. Too easy.”

“Right on. Black Swordsman—it's showtime!”

Kirito's blade came out in a flash, ready to meet PoH's charge. At the same time, Kizmel drew Eldhi Arc in a blur and launched herself at XaXa, intercepting his blinding-quick lunge at Kirito. “I am no doll,” she said through gritted teeth, slashing the estoc aside with her blade. “I am his partner!”

“Hah! Just what I'd expect, from a program, like you! Get out, of my way!”

The two with lighter blades fell off to one side, saber and estoc tangling in a blur so fast even Kirito had trouble keeping up with it—and then he had no time to try, as PoH came in and did his best to a drive his poisoned dagger into Kirito's ribcage.

Somehow, he got his sword in the way in time, his parry deflecting the tainted blade just before it could reach his shirt. He managed to segue the parry into the pre-motion for an Uppercut, the quickest move he knew from that position; but PoH was even faster, jumping back as soon as Kirito's blade started to glow. The sword's upward arc missed by a pair of centimeters, and then PoH was lunging in again.

Only the brevity of the post-motion from such a simple skill kept Kirito from being stabbed in that instant. PoH was fast, faster than any mob Kirito had ever fought; his thrust came in so quickly Kirito's dodge still left the edge of his coat to be ripped by the dagger. Dodged instead of parried, the failed blow did leave PoH over-extended for a brief instant, which Kirito took full advantage of to rip a Slant down at the PKer's neck.

PoH reacted instantly, spinning on his foot like a dancer. The Slant, instead of inflicting a critical on his throat, only traced a shallow cut down his chest, and he laughed as he whirled farther out of reach. “Too slow, boy! You don't have the will to kill!”

Chilled, Kirito suspected he was right; he'd realized months before the difference between a duel in a game, and a duel in SAO, along with mindset required for the latter. With the understanding that victory meant more than just bruises in this world, those who were truly willing to kill had an inherent edge over those who weren't.

But it's not just that, he thought, launching a Snake Bite only to see the back and forth slash be dodged with almost contemptuous ease; while he was held in place for an instant after, PoH snuck in a light slash across his cheek, ratcheting his tension up another notch. He's attacking during pre- and post-motion, with normal strikes; he's not using any Sword Skills at all!

Every player knew that sometimes, it was better to use a weak strike delivered by their avatar's virtual muscles, unaided by a Sword Skill's system assist; if the enemy only had a sliver of health left, it just wasn't worth it to risk the post-motion freeze of a skill, especially in a melee against multiple opponents. Even so, Kirito had never known anyone who could do more than a crude slash or two. Very few players had any real knowledge of how to use any kind of blade for real, after all; that was why Sword Skills existed in the first place.

The way PoH whipped his knife around, aiming for vital spots with frightening speed, was something Kirito had never seen before. It was like the PKer actually knew what he was doing with his chosen weapon, and it was becoming clear that the extra speed the “manual” style gave him made up for missing out on the boost in attack power a Sword Skill granted.

Especially with a poisoned blade, Kirito realized, hastily abandoning an attempted skill of his own to deflect a thrust at his kidney the hard way. My stats are high enough compared to his weapon that the poison hasn't procced yet, but that's not going to last!

On top of all that, he was worrying about his partner, too. He was too busy holding off PoH to see much, but from the mad whirl of light to his left, XaXa was keeping up with Kizmel frighteningly well. The masked PKer was using Sword Skills, but he was doing so with the smooth speed of someone who'd practiced them endlessly.

I have to be faster! Taking a chance, Kirito lashed out with his foot, not even a real Unarmed skill, and caught PoH in the shin. Surprised, the PKer stumbled, giving him an opening to unleash the full three hits of a Savage Fulcrum.

All three slashes struck solidly this time, tracing a bright blue “4” in the air. To Kirito's dismay, though, it only dropped PoH's HP by around a tenth—and the man's reaction was to grin. “That's more like your rep, Black Swordsman! The question is—can you keep it up? We're only just getting started!”

In a race between knockback and post-motion, PoH won out by a hair, and Kirito felt the muted thump of a knife ramming solidly between his ribs. It withdrew just as quickly, having made only a small dent in his health—but the sickly glow that suddenly outlined his HP bar told the real threat.

Poison, and a high-level one at that. Immediately, Kirito's HP started draining away, and there was no time to go for an antidote.

“Tick-tock, Black Swordsman,” PoH told with a grin, falling back into a crouch, twirling his dagger between his fingers. “You're on the clock! Can you finish me before the poison gets you? C'mon, let's have some fun!”

I have two minutes before this kills me, Kirito thought, the world seeming to blur around him. My Sword Skills hit harder than he does, but I can't hit him solidly enough. I have to try something else, but what—?

A flash of memory, long forgotten. A very basic stance, not meant for his chosen blade, but one of the first things taught to beginners; something practiced so many times as to be carved into his mind, even after all these years. Something from a time he'd hated, but all the clearer in his memory for it.

PoH… isn't the only one who knows something about fighting without System Assist.

Gripping the hilt of his one-handed sword with both hands, Kirito lifted his blade in a stance Klein would've felt more at home with. I… I have to be faster! With a wordless yell, he leapt across the distance to PoH, slashing down in the most basic overhead strike taught in kendo.

Kizmel had never actually fought one of the Swordmasters before. Even when training the Black Cats, they'd always avoided actually sparring; as Kirito had explained once, the implications were disturbing enough that Swordmasters in general tended to be reluctant to take up arms against one another even for practice. Otherwise, since rejoining Kirito on the Twenty-Sixth Floor they'd never encountered hostile Swordmasters quite willing to take up arms against them.

The masked man called XaXa was clearly different from the average Swordmaster, and Kizmel suspected only her own experience fighting Forest and Fallen Elves kept her from being swiftly overwhelmed. Despite his thin blade, his strength seemed easily a match for the Forest Elf Kirito and Asuna had saved her from that fateful day, and he was astonishingly fast.

Kirito's reflexes are better, Kizmel thought, her Eldhi Arc countering a blinding-quick Linear with a hasty Reaver, but I believe the only Swordmaster I've ever seen whose strikes are faster is Asuna. If I'm not careful—!

To her consternation, what could be seen of XaXa's expression was a strange mix of amusem*nt and irritation. “Never thought, a simple, NPC, could fight, like this! I'd be, impressed, if you weren't, in my way!”

“I believe that is my complaint,” she ground out, sidestepping another Linear to return one of her own; somehow XaXa twisted around to let it under his left arm, but she did leave a graze under his shoulder. “We've done nothing to provoke you!”

“Hah! Don't think, a doll, like you, can understand! Just a, parrot who doesn't, understand what, she's even, saying!” He pirouetted in an elegant move that belied his blood thirst, one Kizmel recognized just in time. The swift thrust toward her head she caught on her shield, and she nimbly stepped sideways around Diagonal Sting's lower blow.

I cannot let this last. Kizmel drew back in her sword in the moment it took XaXa to recover from his own attack, letting her saber glow with restrained power. Kirito needs my help! She only had time for the barest glimpses, but she could tell he was harder-pressed by PoH than she by XaXa.

Not that XaXa was by any means slow or weak. He began his next attack before she'd quite launched hers, and the angled slash of a Streak rushed out to meet her own; the two skills collided, canceling each other out with a brilliant flash and a concussive boom, blowing both of them back from the recoil.

Kizmel winced from the bruising pressure, but rallied swiftly. As soon as she regained full control of herself, she threw herself into a spin in place, expecting XaXa to come rushing in again the moment he recovered; if she was right, the triple blow of the Treble Scythe would serve her better than a more aggressive thrust at that moment—

XaXa's surprised grunt as the swift charge of his Shooting Star was met by a whirlwind of steel instead of something more precise proved her suspicion. The way he flew back several paces and hit the stone floor with bone-bruising force was deeply satisfying.

Treat me as a mere figment of a dream, will you? Kizmel thought coolly, rushing to press the attack the moment she could move again. Fine, then; I'll not object if you underestimate me!

He was already rolling to his feet when she reached him, angling a Rising Sting at her throat from a crouch. She instinctively snapped her shield in the way, but by defending she sacrificed the initiative, giving XaXa time to recover his footing.

The next few moments were a confusing blur of slashes and thrusts, each trying to slip a blow past the other's guard, and amidst the occasional hiss of pain as his blade found its mark and grunt of impact as hers struck true, only the long months of combat and years of training kept Kizmel remotely aware of what was happening. XaXa was, she realized, a more skilled swordsman than even Viscount Yofilis, or any of her instructors in the Pagoda Knights.

“Well, now, maybe this, will be, fun, after all,” XaXa rasped out, grinning beneath his mask. “Not so, bad, for just, a program!”

This is the true threat the Swordmasters face, Kizmel realized, feeling a thrust strike home in her gut even as she landed a blow on XaXa's sword arm. As powerful as the monsters that infest this castle may be, traitors within their own ranks are so much stronger…!

At last, she found an opening: a fraction of a moment when XaXa was overextended from a missed Triangular, forced to carry through all three hits despite the error. In that tiny space, she hit him with another Treble Scythe, slashing into his knees, stomach, and chest. The most solid hit she'd managed yet, it once again tossed him across the chamber, his arc ending with a hard impact against one of the fallen marble columns.

Visibly dazed, it took XaXa until Kizmel was halfway across the gap before he even began to recover—at which point, once again, he grinned. “Not bad! But do, you really have, time for this? Your precious, partner, is in trouble, you fake!”

She skidded to a halt, head whipping around to look. At some point Kirito had switched to a style that seemed completely at odds with his own weapon, oddly abandoning Sword Skills entirely; now, though, there was a bright crimson glow flaring to life. That's—no!

XaXa's grin vanished in a look of open-mouthed surprise just before Kizmel's flung shield hit him in the face, startling him into falling over again, and she launched herself toward her partner's battle. “Kirito!”

One-handed swords, Kirito had found, really weren't very suited to two-handed styles. It was working, barely—technically, he supposed the sword he currently using would probably be considered a hand-and-a-half sword—but the moves weren't coming out nearly as smoothly as with a shinai or true katana.

Or maybe I'm just way too rusty, he thought, his awkward backhand catching PoH's right arm just above the wrist; not a wasted hit, but he'd been trying to cut the man's hand off, hopefully taking that poisoned knife with it. I never thought I'd regret giving up on kendo back then!

“Better, boy,” PoH complimented, flipping the dagger to a reverse grip, the blade folded back against his forearm. “Maybe you do know some good tricks… This is getting fun!”

“Only someone like you—would call this—fun,” Kirito got out through gritted teeth. He reversed the sword in his hands, bringing it back in a forehand strike meant to cut down across PoH's chest; just a breath ahead of him, the PKer darted inside his reach and slashed the green-edged knife along his arm, leaving another gleaming red line to join the others.

PoH's dagger was a much weaker weapon than Kirito's sword, going by raw attack power, but a knife was a weapon either for precise, decisive blows to weak points, or gradually bleeding; worse, the PKer obviously knew it, and the poison gave him a nasty edge on top of that.

Kendo isn't the right style to fight him with, either, Kirito thought grimly, gaze flicking up to his own steadily-decreasing HP; he was already down to half, and still falling. I know a few moves without using System Assist, but two-handed is just too slow for this…

I have to be faster!

Clenching his jaw, he called on every reserve his system-governed avatar had, and focused every bit of his attention on the enemy in front of him. If he could just be fast enough, he could take out PoH in a few good hits; all he had to do was be quick and accurate enough to strike the right place. Even if he couldn't bring himself to kill, even PoH would have to pull back if he was hit hard enough—

With another wordless yell, Kirito lunged for PoH, swinging his sword with all the power and speed his arms could bring in. Faster, dammit! PoH ducked under the blade, driving his dagger in once more, but this time Kirito was ready for it. He lashed out with his foot again, even though it cost him his own balance; PoH saw it coming and jumped, yet his attack was still cut short.

Kirito's own attacks threw him completely off-balance, toppling him over, but he'd known it was coming. He turned with the fall, rolled, and came up with his sword dragging up from the ground with him. Faster! He turned with his arms, with his torso, and with his legs as he rose, his blade tearing across faster yet; this time, PoH ducked away just a little too slow, taking the full brunt of the slash across the chest.

Either knockback or surprise slowed PoH's reactions by just a sliver, and Kirito took advantage of it, whipping his sword down, across, and back in a flurry of attacks, dropping the PKer's HP close to the halfway point. Just a little more! Just a little more, and even he'll have to run for it—!

“Now this is making it all worth it, Black Swordsman!” In the brief opening between one attack and the next, PoH leapt back, his grin still wide and wild. “You're in the way, but it wouldn't have been any fun if you just gave up and died! But…” The grin shrank to a smirk. “Playtime's over, boy. It's showtime.”

For the first time, PoH's dagger took on the red glow of a Sword Skill. Kirito didn't know daggers well enough to guess from the pre-motion which skill it was, but it left him uncertain and wary; from that distance, he ought to have plenty of time to intercept it. Even with the poison, there was simply no way PoH could kill him with a single Sword Skill, and gripped by System Assist the PKer had no hope of dodging Kirito's retaliation.

He's trying something tricky, Kirito thought. In that case—I'll just have to hit him with the best I've got! Abandoning his awkward two-handed grip, he pulled his blade back, starting the pre-motion for a Sharp Nail. It ran the risk of killing PoH outright, if he critted just “right”, but at this point Kirito didn't think he had much of a choice. With the poison, and Kizmel still occupied with XaXa…

His skill released just as PoH's pulled the PKer into a rush, and for just an instant Kirito thought he'd won; his skill was clearly going to hit. A moment before the clash, though, he suddenly realized PoH's dagger wasn't aimed for his body at all.

Its point was driving straight into the flat of Kirito's sword, a few centimeters above the hilt. In the instant the two Sword Skills met, there was the usual loud sound and bright flash—and the sword's blade snapped off just above the guard, spinning off to clatter loudly on the marble floor.

For a second, all Kirito could do was stare at the remains of his sword in sheer disbelief. That wasn't the first time he'd had a sword break in the middle of a fight; his beloved Anneal Blade had perished in the defense of Yofel Castle, the previous Christmas. But that sword was almost at its limit anyway! This one was still close to half-strength, and—did he target a weak point on the sword? On purpose?!

PoH's smirk turned back into a lazy grin. “Didn't know that trick, did you, Black Swordsman? Too bad. There's a lot of things you still ought to learn about this world. Things I could've maybe taught you, if you weren't such a goody-two-shoes.” Shaking his head, he started toward Kirito, the young swordsman still frozen in surprise. “It's funny. I get the feeling you understand this world better than almost anybody, but there's one little thing you don't get.”

His health was ticking down close to the red now, Kirito noticed, ice racing through his virtual veins. With no sword to parry with, if PoH got in just a couple of good hits in the right places—and the man obviously knew exactly where to aim—he was a dead man.

No. I can't… I can't let it end here! Tossing aside the broken remnants of his sword, Kirito readied himself to try Martial Arts skills instead. “What is it I'm missing, then?” he demanded of the PKer, trying to stall for just a little more time.

“The simplest thing of all, Black Swordsman,” PoH told him, never losing that disturbing smile. “This is a death game, right? Then death is exactly what we should be giving out. If you're not killing or being killed, you're denying the very essence of Aincrad, boy.”

The reply was so completely incomprehensible that Kirito didn't have the least idea how to respond, and PoH took that moment to set up for another Sword Skill. His poisoned dagger taking on a crimson glow again, he was clearly preparing the same skill as before, and this time Kirito had no defense at all—

“Get away from him!”

PoH started to turn in surprise. “What the—?!” he began, only to be knocked off his feet by a charging Dark Elf.

“Quickly, Kirito!” she shouted to him, wrenching one arm free of the tangle she and the PKer had ended up in. “Take it, and get the sword!”

Kirito caught the antidote she flung his way without even thinking, opening and downing it in a flash. The meaning of her other words was a moment longer sinking in, but then he was whirling around, hand tugging at the chain remaining around his neck.

“Get off me!” PoH snarled, levity vanished. He wrestled with Kizmel for a moment, got most of his body free, and viciously kicked her away, forcing a cry of pain from the elf. “You're not getting away so easily, Black Swordsman!”

PoH was fast. Kirito, maybe because those running for their lives were always just a bit lighter on their feet than those just trying to take them, was faster. Two steps ahead of his would-be murderer, he reached the dais, hurriedly slapping the emerald Bravery Pendant into the slot he'd suspected would be at the base of its pedestal. One step ahead, he gripped the battered hilt in with his sword hand, and pulled.

Light flared, the rusted Baneblade slipping from the stone with ease belying its worn appearance.

Turning the act of drawing the sword from its resting place into a spin, Kirito segued right into the pre-motion for an Uppercut just as PoH tried to stab him in the throat. This time, there was no chance for the PKer to even try to evade, committed as he was to the attack; the skill tore deep into his right hip, arcing up and out through his left shoulder.

Still as light on his feet as ever, PoH sprang back as quickly as he could. Unlike before, though, there was no trace of humor on his face at all; beneath his hood, his face twitched in a way Kirito could tell meant he was checking his HP—the HP that had just taken more damage from one hit of Kirito's new weapon than four or five from the old.

There was a rustle to Kirito's right, and Kizmel was suddenly by his side, Eldhi Arc pointed unwaveringly at PoH's face. At some point she'd lost her shield, and her cloak was as tattered as the battle had left Kirito's longcoat, but she otherwise seemed in better shape than he was, and her expression was murderous.

In the silence, XaXa came up to PoH's side in turn; unlike his boss, the estoc user was still smiling. “Well. The girl, might really, be something, after all,” he said. “What now, boss? Shall we, keep going?”

Staring hard at the PKer duo, Kirito almost wished they would. “If you want to end this now, go ahead,” he said, hardly recognizing his own voice. “Want to try us again?”

“…Continuing now is pointless,” PoH finally said, tucking his dagger under his poncho. “You'd better watch your back, Black Swordsman. You're only alive because of that sword—and it won't help you so much against mobs, will it?”

“Too bad.” XaXa spun his estoc in a blurred flourish and sheathed it. “It was, just getting, good. But maybe, next time, will be better.”

The two of them turned and walked back toward the chamber's entrance. Kirito watched them closely the whole way, until just before the door they both vanished under Hiding, just as they'd arrived.

After a few moments, Kizmel glanced at him. “Do you think they're actually gone?”

“Probably. They've lost a lot of their surprise, and I'm actually better equipped now than when they got here.” Kirito finally allowed himself to relax; though the first thing he did was dig into his pocket with his free hand to pull out a potion, getting a quick start on restoring his HP. He'd come all too close to the red, this time.

Only when he'd drunk the whole potion did his partner begin to relax, slipping her saber back into its scabbard. “I did not expect that,” she admitted, shoulders slumping wearily. “To follow us in here, and make such a direct attempt at murder… I knew your stories of the 'orange' Swordmasters, but even after what happened to the Black Cats, I never suspected this.”

“Neither did I.” But I should have. After what Argo said about Naga… I should've known something like this would happen eventually.

“We survived, Kirito,” Kizmel said gently, laying a hand on his arm. “We survived, and we've found what we came for. If, perhaps, not quite as we expected.”

Kirito glanced down at the Baneblade, still clutched in his right hand, still as rusted and weathered as when he'd drawn it. “It's still pretty sharp,” he pointed out. “And like Countess Ryella said, it hurt PoH pretty bad. I'm willing to bet there's a way to restore it to its true form, too.”

Probably another quest, he mused, finally sheathing the blade with his usual flourish. Special item, probably has a special way to upgrade it… Well, there's no way that quest is on this floor, so no need to worry about it now. The real issue is…

As if following his thoughts, Kizmel also followed his gaze to the chest on the pedestal behind the Baneblade's resting place.

By rights, a murder attempt by two rogue Swordmasters should've eclipsed everything else that had happened that day. The greater degree of threat they posed than previously suspected was a change that needed to be discussed in detail, and with more than just her own partner.

Yet despite the fear and pain only now ebbing away, Kizmel's attention was drawn back to what had brought them to the Reliquary to begin with. To the Baneblade Kirito now carried on his back, and to the unopened chest that still remained, a small hollow for a jewel where a keyhole might normally be.

After all, she thought, in many ways, that represents a change far more fundamental—certainly one far more personal.

Slowly, Kizmel stepped up to the chest, slipped the Bravery Pendant from her neck, and placed it in the hollow. With a soft click, the lock released, allowing her to lift the chest's lid, and withdraw its contents.

It was a simple book, bound in green-dyed leather, so aged as to concern her she would destroy it simply by opening its cover. On that cover was etched simply, Record of the Alliance of the Three, written in the same ancient script as the inscriptions around the Trial temples and the Reliquary itself.

When she turned back to her partner, holding the book carefully in both hands, Kizmel found Kirito looking at her with an unusually serious expression. “Kizmel… are you sure you know what you're getting into, if you open that book?” His voice was soft, filled with concern.

“I began to realize it when Swordmaster Diavel first spoke to us in the Trial of Bravery, Kirito,” she replied. “Even before Countess Ryella spoke of it, it seemed clear invoking the charms of the Swordmasters might well strip me of my Knighthood. …Though I admit, I had not thought through that I might truly be made a stranger to my own people, as well.”

“There's that, but… that's not exactly what I mean, Kizmel.” He bit his lip, dark eyes reflecting a struggle to find the right words. “This is so hard to explain. The Swordmasters… we really don't experience the world the same way you do, Kizmel. There's more to gaining our powers and senses than just being able to make writing appear in the air or seeing hidden paths and objects.”

“That much has been obvious to me for a long time, Kirito.” She tucked the Record under her arm, meeting his somber gaze with one of her own. “I know you've said your perspective on the world is very different from that of my people, or even the humans native to this world.”

“Yeah, but there's more to it than that. It's… almost more basic, but more… I don't know, more comprehensive, maybe?” Kirito made a sound of frustration. “Okay, let me try again… Kizmel, if that book really makes you like one of us, then you're literally going to see the whole world differently. You'll see descriptions when you look at things, symbols above people's heads, and… call it status reports in the corners of your vision. All the time. You won't be able to look away from it, ever, even if you close your eyes.”

That much did sound disconcerting, Kizmel admitted to herself. She didn't quite grasp the specifics—it sounded much like trying to explain to a Swordmaster her own instinctive perceptions of the world, come to think of it; the sort of thing that could only truly be grasped through experience—but the general point seemed clear enough. “Like seeing your Mystic Scribing at all times?” she suggested.

“Exactly!” Kirito looked relieved for a brief moment, before the seriousness came back again. “You'll always be seeing some of that, no matter where you look. Probably in your dreams, when you've had it long enough; honestly, I think I'd be confused now if I didn't have it…” He shook his head. “And Kizmel… I don't know exactly how close your senses are to working like ours otherwise, but I know you feel pain. Swordmasters don't. I'm not sure if you really understand what that means.”

“I don't,” she acknowledged at once. “But I have thought about it, Kirito. I remember what you've told me, since the night we left Sachi with Klein. You Swordmasters, too, made a transition when you came to this world. You learned to see the world differently, and what it was to feel no pain. These powers are no more natural to you than to me, are they?”

“Well… no, they're not,” he conceded. “In the world we came from, we're close to some of it, maybe, but… no, most of what we can do here, we could never do in our real bodies.”

As she'd thought. Only the past week or so had the possibility of finding a means to use the Swordmaster's charms been within her reach, but Kizmel had been thinking about it for some months now. Ever since she found herself considering seeking out her human friends again, she'd thought about the implications of Mystic Scribing and the other Swordmaster powers; the more so since she'd begun to learn more about those powers, and the nature of their wielders.

Kirito had not raised a single point she hadn't already considered some time before. Which was far from saying that the decision before her was an easy one, however simple it appeared; until Countess Ryella said it outright, Kizmel had not truly considered how deeply she might be changing her relationship with her own home and people.

Even so…

“Kirito,” she said, stepping close enough to lay a hand on his arm. “Have you wondered why it is I want to do this in the first place?” When he blinked, frowned thoughtfully, and finally gave a slow shake of his head, she continued, “Because I want to know your world, Kirito. Your people. Do you know what I've seen in my journey with you?

“The variety of foods. The multitude of different styles of your buildings—I was particularly intrigued by Taira, the city you mentioned was similar to your own ancestral lands. The sheer diversity of culture, represented throughout the human settlements of Aincrad. Even among the Swordmasters themselves,” she added with small smile. “I rather doubt Guildmaster Kibaou's dialect comes from quite the same background as your own.”

Kirito coughed, smothering a surprised chuckle. “Well, almost,” he muttered. “Not quite, but close.”

“Which is still more diversity than among my own Dark Elves. Kirito, I didn't truly understand this myself until I spent months with you, occasionally mingling with other Swordmasters, but when we came to Fort Renya, I realized that your people are, in some ways, simply more vibrant than mine. Do you recall the guards at the gate there?”

He nodded uncertainly, a strange look in his eyes.

“They didn't understand a simple question, Kirito, because I did not ask it the same way I once would have.” Kizmel remembered the moment well, brief though it had been. Ordinarily it might've slipped her mind after meeting the much more imaginative Countess Ryella, but she'd seen even some humans acting in much the same way, now that she knew to look. “The Swordmasters are different, Kirito. Different in a way I want to see more of, to understand more. To find that understanding, I realized months ago that I needed to see the world through their eyes.”

Kirito swallowed, worry still obvious in those dark eyes. Worry, and… sadness? “…You may not like everything you learn, Kizmel,” he whispered. “I've told you before, there's things you may never forgive us for… and even if you do this, someday we'll all…”

He couldn't finish the sentence, but she knew what he meant. Someday the Steel Castle would be cleansed, clear to the Ruby Palace at its peak. If the Swordmasters were right, that would be the moment they would all be free to leave, and it was obvious they believed they would never return.

Rather, their minds would leave, and no body native to Aincrad would accompany them. However much some might want to.

“I know,” Kizmel said simply. “I know you're afraid of what I may learn, but I believe it's better to know the truth, however painful. And whatever may come after… well, time remains for us to solve that problem, as well. I believe the risk is worth the reward, my friend.”

She took the book from in hand again, and carefully opened the front cover.

“You'll be a target, too, you know,” Kirito pointed, with the air of someone trying to convince someone for their sake, not his own. “What happened today—and the Black Cats. From the sound of it, that might actually have been meant to kill me…”

“Then you clearly need someone to watch your back, don't you? Certainly that's worked well enough so far.” Smiling, Kizmel lifted the book to eye level, read quickly over the first lines of ancient script, and recited, “I am Kizmel, Royal Guard and Pagoda Knight of the Kingdom of Lyusula! By ancient law and treaty, aided by Swordmaster companion, I come to honor ancient alliance! Let my sword aid my people's ally, as once theirs aided us!” She brought her gaze back up to her partner's. “Is my pledge to be honored?”

Kirito was quick-witted, as he always was where “quests” were concerned; and though his eyes were still troubled, he didn't hesitate. “It is, Lady Kizmel,” he said simply, voice stumbling only very slightly with the formality.

Light blazed from the book, brighter even than when the Baneblade had been drawn, and Kizmel fell to her knees. Something in her was changing, she could feel it; a twisting pain-not-pain, as if her very essence was being reshaped at the most fundamental level.

Sparks flared in her mind, a moment of agony that felt both eternal and over so quickly it might never have been there; distantly, she heard Kirito calling her name in panic. Static followed in her ears, darkness consuming her vision, a brief sensation of something melting away on her hand—and then it was gone.

“…Kizmel! Kizmel, answer me!”

Breathing heavily, Kizmel found herself still on her knees, head touching the ground. “I… I'm alright, Kirito,” she managed, slowly pushing herself to sitting position. “I am not sure what…”

…Is that music I'm hearing…?

Slowly, she began to realize things really had changed in those few moments of chaos. In the upper-left corner of her vision, she could see two colored bars hanging in the air, her name below one and Kirito's below the other, numbers of unknown meaning below them. To the upper-right, another set of numerals, whose meaning she could not even begin to guess at.

Looking up at Kirito, Kizmel saw a bar over his head matching the one hovering in her vision, and above it a strange, inverted green pyramid, spinning slowly in the air.

Trembling now, she brought the first two fingers of her right hand together as she'd seen Swordmasters do—noticing belatedly, with a distracted pang of sorrow, that the ring that had once been a token of her station as a Knight of Lyusula had vanished—and moved them straight down.

Just as with any Swordmaster, something akin to an ethereal sheet of paper sprang into being beside her hand. The meaning of the words written on it were obscure to her, but she recognized it instantly as the same thing that appeared whenever a Swordmaster invoked Mystic Scribing.

…This is how Swordmasters see the world, Kizmel thought numbly. I don't understand any of it—not yet. But this is really…

Kirito reached a hand to her, a strange smile on his face. “I guess it worked, huh? You okay, Kizmel? I know this is a lot to take in…”

She took his hand, letting him pull her to her feet—then threw her arms around his neck, pulling him in close. “It worked,” she said giddily. “This… this is how you see the world, isn't it, Kirito? These numbers, bars, strange symbols… This is how Swordmasters view this world?”

“Um. Yeah.” Obviously caught completely off-guard, he hesitantly returned the hug. “Er… it's going to take a little while to explain what all of that means; you don't have the same frame of reference to begin with…”

“It will be worth the effort,” Kizmel said firmly, tightening her grip. “If it gives me greater insight into your people, my friend, it will all be worth it.”

Yes. I want to know your world better, Kirito. The strange, wonderful place I've seen only glimpses of. The place that sent you here…

Chapter 9: Chapter IX: Forest Finale

Chapter Text

Chapter IX: Forest Finale

October 9th, 2023

Still wrapped up in Kizmel's unexpected embrace, Kirito found himself very much at a loss. He'd known going in that any quest involving Dark Elves at this stage—especially one that was suspiciously specific to their situation—was going to be complicated, but the full extent had caught him very much by surprise.

An attack by PKers, a sword that's all too likely to kill them, and now Kizmel's… well…

After a period of time which Kirito couldn't decide was too long or too short, Kizmel slowly released him, stepping back a discreet couple of steps. As she turned her gaze on their surroundings, a look of wonder still on her face, he focused his attention on a point just above her head: on the glowing cursor that had been there the whole time he'd known her.

Most of that time, it had been the yellow of a quest NPC. Now, it was the pure green of a non-criminal player—something that to Kirito's knowledge shouldn't even have been possible.

I need to talk to Argo. There's a lot going on here that's completely outside normal gameplay, and if anyone has any ideas, it'll be her.

Hesitantly, Kirito cleared his throat. “We should probably be heading back to town,” he said. “I think we've finished everything to do with the Reliquary, and I'd rather we got our equipment repaired before we risk getting into combat again. That last battle was a close one.”

Kizmel blinked, visibly drawing herself out of her trance-like state. She glanced over her own armor, grimacing at the visible dents in her breastplate and rough tears in her Mistmoon Cloak; a quick look to one side where the shattered remnants of Kirito's previous sword had disappeared, and she sighed. “You're right, of course,” she said. “Especially since the battle against the Pillar Guardian will doubtless be soon.”

She almost said more, but while motioning to banish the menu she'd still left up, Kizmel's gaze flickered across her right hand. Hidden by her armored glove, Kirito couldn't see any change there, but after their experience in the Trial of the Brave, he could guess what was probably missing now.

“Are you all right, Kizmel?” he asked gently. “I know that ring was important. And, well, I know what it being gone means…”

“I made a choice, Kirito,” she told him, lowering her hand. “I knew what I was doing, and I don't regret it. It will just… take some getting used to, I suppose.” Shrugging, Kizmel smiled again, the happiness of the moment chasing out the sadness. “Shall we go? Doubtless Argo is waiting for the news, however little use it may be to her. I don't think I've ever known someone so eager for gossip.”

“That's because she makes money from blackmail material,” Kirito muttered, bringing up his own menu now. A few quick gestures, and the shimmering azure of a Teleport Crystal fell into his hand. “Teleport: Mydo!”

Having been born with the heightened senses of a Dark Elf, accustomed to them her whole life, Kizmel had seldom experienced anything resembling sensory overload. Even if the Swordmasters made for towns more bustling than she was used to, her exposure to them had been gradual enough that she'd never found herself overwhelmed, even on the occasions she and Kirito had rested in the more populous towns.

The return to Mydo was a different story. With the perception she'd just now obtained, Kizmel found herself briefly wondering how Swordmasters managed, seeing so many markers everywhere they looked. Above every head, a symbol like the one hovering over Kirito, either the green of Swordmasters or a simple yellow she took to denote the native humans of Aincrad.

Kirito was serious when he said this would change the very way I looked at the world, she realized, following in his wake in something of a daze. If this is how they always perceive their surroundings, and those in them, it's little wonder they have difficulty accepting this world as real.

Trying to take it all in, at the same time puzzling over the persistent scripts and symbols in the corners of her vision, Kizmel was just as glad that Kirito seemed to know where they were going. She was certainly having a little trouble keeping track, under the circ*mstances.

The way some of the more observant Swordmasters were looking at her in turn didn't help. Most were hurrying along Mydo's streets on their own business, paying little heed to anyone else, but the few who really looked at her were notably startled. From that, Kizmel suspected something about her had changed visibly, as well, though she herself could see no difference.

When they reached the inn at Mydo's southern edge, though, and slipped into an upper room, the one waiting for them there looked not at all surprised. Indeed, Argo had a smile that more closely resembled a cat at that moment than a rat.

“Too bad this was too juicy for me to talk about just for a bet,” she said whimsically, waiting for the pair to sit opposite her at a small table. “'Cause I totally woulda won it. Congrats, Kii-chan, and welcome. You've just joined a crazy lot, but you've been with Kii-bou for months, you know that already.”

“Thank you, Argo… I think.” Kizmel leaned gratefully back in her chair, suddenly feeling every bit of the day's exertion. “It's going to take some getting used to, I believe, but I'm glad to be joining you.”

“As you should be. We're crazy, but we're awesome, too.” The Rat leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table, and her smile became a grin. “So c'mon, guys, gimme the dirt. What happened in there?” Kirito started to open his mouth, but she just waved one hand in front of her face. “I got payment for it that you'll like, trust me. Now spill!”

He started to speak again, paused, then slumped with a sigh. “Something tells me that's both true and something I'll regret anyway, but… Well, you really do need to know all this. Things didn't exactly go according to plan, when we reached the Reliquary's treasure room…”

Kirito went over the whole story, from the PKers following them in to the recovery and nature of the Baneblade. Kizmel picked up the end of the tale, explaining as best she could the change she herself had undergone upon invoking the ancient treaty stored with the Baneblade. Lacking a full understanding even then of how her perceptions had been altered, she had some difficulty getting across some of it, but the Rat seemed to grasp it all well enough anyway.

By the end of it, Argo's expression was grimmer than usual, and she'd begun absently tapping her fingers on the table. “Damn,” she said finally, shaking her head with a grimace. “To be honest, guys, I thought somethin' wasn't right when I left the Forest, but I didn't see that coming. Prince of Hell, huh…? Guy's upfront about what he is, I'll give 'im that.”

“He also seems to live up to his name, as skilled as he was,” Kizmel said, troubled. “A pseudonym, obviously; I suppose someone like that wouldn't be brave enough to act under their own name. Though in his case, I'd expect it not to matter to him, given his criminal status keeps him out of normal society anyway…” She trailed off, noticing the odd looks both her companions were suddenly wearing. “…Did I say something strange?”

Argo coughed, looking torn between amusem*nt and chagrin, while Kirito looked away uncomfortably. “Ah, Kii-chan. This PoH guy probably picked his moniker 'cause it sounds scary, but the truth is… Well, we're kinda all usin' fake names. Kii-bou's told ya this was s'posed ta be a game, right? Part of bein' somebody else is using a different name, too.” She smiled, a distinctly bittersweet expression. “'Course after this long with nobody around to call us by the real ones, I guess the ones we got here might's well be real, too.”

The elf girl blinked, settling back in her chair. Looked at in that light, suddenly another thing that had occasionally confused her about the Swordmasters made a great deal more sense. She'd never been able to find any semblance of pattern in their names, nothing like what would normally be expected in a single culture as the Swordmasters themselves seemed to come from.

If they're all self-chosen… Interesting. I wonder if that means they all chose names personally meaningful to them? Kizmel shot a quick glance at Kirito, wondering what significance there might be to his name—and, for that matter, what he'd been called in his own world. The blush on his face, though, and the memory that the Swordmasters preferred not to speak much of their normal lives kept her silent.

Across the table, though, Argo recovered her usual grin. “Wouldn't advise ya to ask around too much, Kii-chan; some of us got names that play on the real ones, and that's kinda personal. Here's a freebie, though: mine means 'Swift', in the same language that gave us Lethe Forest.”

“Ahh,” Kizmel said, nodding. “That suits you well, Argo.” Although… why does Kirito look sheepish?

“Why, thankee, Kii-chan.”

It was Kirito's turn to cough into his hand. “If we could get back on topic?” he said. “Kizmel's right, though, PoH's good. I've never seen somebody fight so well without using Sword Skills.” He frowned down at the table. “Though honestly, what worries me more is that they were able to follow us into the Reliquary at all. I know it wasn't an instanced dungeon, but the fact that we needed special keys to open it at all makes it seem like it shouldn't have been that easy.”

Argo sobered again. “That bothers me, too,” she admitted, lacing her fingers behind her head and swinging her feet up onto the table, heedless of how crowded it suddenly made the surface. “I can kinda guess, though. I mean, it's obvious the whole questline was manipulated, right? Like a certain somebody was taking a personal hand.”

“…It did occur to me,” he said quietly. “Things went a little too conveniently, especially since Kizmel and I were pretty much the only people who could do it.” Kirito clasped his hands together, looking more troubled than Kizmel was used to seeing. “Honestly, I've felt like it a few times before, the last few months.”

Kizmel frowned, feeling a chill. She didn't completely understand what they were getting at, some of the terms still unfamiliar to her, but she could grasp the implications well enough. She didn't like them, nor what they further suggested about the person she suspected they were speaking of.

“Are you suggesting,” she began warily, “that the sorcerer who imprisoned you here has been meddling in our journey? …Does he really have that kind of power?”

“To nudge us in the direction he wants, putting us into situations that fit whatever plan it is he has?” Kirito nodded unhappily. “Yeah, Kayaba could do it. Actually, he could probably do a lot more, but I think he's trying to be subtle about it.”

“If it makes ya feel any better, Kii-chan,” Argo continued, turning a sympathetic eye on her, “I don't think Kayaba had anything to do with you and Kii-bou meeting. Prolly not even you teaming up again back in June. I'd bet he thought it was interestin', though, and there's a bunch of things he coulda done to, say, 'nudge' the Fallen Elves. And maybe tweak the Trials you guys just went through.”

…Suddenly, Kizmel felt an even stronger urge to meet the sorcerer Kayaba with steel in hand than before. Previously, it had been for the sake of her new friends who had been betrayed, and that remained a strong motive for her; now, though, the idea that he was also meddling in the conflict that nearly destroyed her people, not to mention the very trying tests of virtue they'd so recently endured…

“My guess is that most of the conflict, and what we dealt with in the Trials, was real enough,” Kirito said, continuing where Argo had left off before Kizmel could descend too far into doubt. “But things went in just the right way to make an interesting 'story' a couple times too many.”

“Exactly,” Argo said with a nod. “Anyway,” she added with a shrug, “the point here is that I think he was either tryin' to make Kii-bou test out the Baneblade, or just plain screwed up the locks on the Reliquary by accident. Even big-time sorcerers screw up when they're makin' things up on the fly.”

Not being familiar with large-scale magic, Kizmel decided to defer to the Rat's judgment, particularly when Kirito nodded his agreement. Of course, as far as she knew they had little experience with magic either, but they did seem well-enough versed with whatever Kayaba had done.

“So!” Argo said now, moving on. “PKers, and darn good ones… Guess that explains Naga.” She winced. “Think I maybe oughtta give that one to Lind as a freebie; even I'd feel bad selling that. 'Specially if you guys are right about what happened to the Cats, too. Good thing you got that nifty sword out of it.” A roll of her eyes, now; Kizmel couldn't remember ever seeing the girl's mood swing so fast or often. “Even if it's about as obvious as it gets… Genuine bonus damage to evil, eh?”

“A little too much, actually.” For all that the Baneblade had saved his life, Kirito didn't look very happy with owning the weapon now. “In a half-finish duel with an orange player, I don't think I'd even have to try very hard for a crit, and…”

“Not like they don't have it coming… but I know what ya mean, Kii-bou. None of us wanna cross that line, even if they deserve it.” Argo eyed the battered hilt protruding over his shoulder with an expression Kizmel found difficult to decipher. “I can see why else ya might be worried, too. You've gotten flack for the Beater thing for less, and with the PKer plague we got going, this could be about as bad as the mess with that flag back on the Fifth Floor… Ya still got that, by the way?”

Kirito nodded ruefully. “I thought about giving it to the KoB when they started up, since the ALS left the frontline anyway, but with Lind still the way he is…”

“Uh-huh. Guy still thinks he oughtta be Diavel's heir apparent. Well, dunno what to tell ya there, Kii-bou, 'cept maybe you should get yourself another sword when ya can. And keep that one, just in case you really do need it.”

In case PoH returns, with reinforcements, Kizmel thought to herself, feeling a chill at the thought. He and XaXa alone were formidable, and we know there are at least two more of them. By now, who knows how many have taken up their twisted ideology.

From the look on his face, Kirito wanted to disagree, but obviously could not.

Before the lull in conversation could get too oppressive, Argo suddenly clapped her hands together, dropped her feet back to the floor, and grinned. “Enough about that! Scary stuff can wait for the next big guild meeting. The important thing is, Kii-chan's officially a Swordmaster, yeah? That's awesome! If Aa-chan weren't busy, I'd say have a party.” She snickered. “On the bright side, I can't wait ta see her face.”

Kizmel found herself smiling, the change in topic rescuing her spirits as well. “I'm rather pleased by it myself, Argo. Truthfully, I've been seeking this for some months now… though now that it is done, I suspect it will take some time to fully sink in. I don't even understand most of the information and skills I now have, to be honest.”

That was definitely a plotting grin that appeared on the Rat's face now. Kizmel had learned long since what it meant when Argo so closely resembled a cat about to pounce. “Figured as much, Kii-chan. And that is my payment for the wonderful dirt—ah, important information you've given me.” Conjuring up her own menu, a few deft motions dropped a small book into her hands, which she proffered to the elf girl with a flourish.

Taking it warily, Kizmel was relieved to see its cover simply read, Don't Worry, It's Argo's Guide to Mystic Scribing! A guidebook, then, akin to those the info broker routinely published detailing new floors of Aincrad. Although…

She glanced up, raising one curious eyebrow. “Swordmasters don't refer to it as Mystic Scribing among themselves, in my experience,. Just how long have you been expecting this, Argo?”

“Since you showed up on the Twenty-Sixth Floor,” the Rat said promptly. “Figured something like this was bound to happen eventually, and even without today's story, I do kinda owe you guys a lot. So c'mon, take a look! I've spent months figurin' out how ta translate things for ya. Let me know if there's anything I missed.”

“…Why do I suddenly have a very bad feeling about this?” Kirito muttered. He, too, looked better now that the subject had turned to lighter things, yet he also bore a look Kizmel recognized as, in his own words, Impending Argo Doom.

Well, it wasn't like she was entirely relaxed either, with Argo looking so amused still, but she opened the guidebook anyway, taking a chance that the other girl's need for a reputation for honest information would keep her in check.

To Kizmel's relief, that appeared to be the case. The explanations the guide gave were as irreverent as might be expected of the Rat, but they were also informative, carefully breaking down the specifics of “menus” into terms a Dark Elf could recognize well enough. In places it did seem to skirt certain details, much as Swordmasters often did with her, but far less so than usual. Argo, it appeared, had gone out of her way to try and explain, rather than approximate as Kirito was all too often forced to do.

Several minutes of reading later, though, Kizmel did come across an expression that seemed under-explained. Looking up at her partner with a frown, she asked, “Kirito? What exactly is an 'Ethics Code'?”

To her surprise, he shrugged, looking as puzzled as she did. “Never heard of it. Which is weird, because I thought I did know pretty much everything in the main menu…”

“That's 'cause it ain't in the main menu, Kii-bou,” Argo said, grin widening so much Kizmel feared for the girl's face. “It's deep in some otherwise pretty pointless sub-menus, prolly to hide it from the easily-scarred youth. I'll tell ya later, for a price, but Kii-chan gets it as part of the package deal. C'mon, girl, come closer.”

Curious, a faint tingling of foreboding going down her spine, Kizmel leaned halfway across the small table. Argo crossed the other half, getting close enough to whisper in her ear so quietly even Kirito likely couldn't make it out.

A few moments in, Kizmel's face flushed as brightly as her dusky skin could. “…Argo…!”

The meeting wrapped up hurriedly after Argo's whispered explanation. Whatever it was she'd said, Kizmel was obviously rattled enough to want to finish things quickly, and after a very brief overview of a few of the more important menu functions, Kirito found himself standing back out in the hall with his partner.

Even if Argo hadn't still been chuckling when they left, he wouldn't have asked what it was all about. The last time he'd seen someone literally steaming from the ears had been when Sachi was hit by Argo's insinuations about harems, which hadn't even made Kizmel blink. If she was reacting like that, he most definitely didn't want to know what was going on.

Still, it was only after they'd returned to their own inn room that Kirito remembered something else. “Y'know, Kizmel,” he said, flopping down on his bed, “now that you've got full player privileges, we don't actually have to share a room anymore. You should be able to rent one yourself, with your share of the Cor we've saved up.”

That was one thing they had taken care of before escaping the trolling Rat. If Kizmel was treated by the system as a player now, it was only fair for her to take half of the money and mats they'd accumulated since teaming up.

The elf girl had just tapped at her shoulder when he spoke, and was beginning to frown in confusion that nothing had happened. After a moment, though, realization seemed to dawn in her eyes, and the blush that had started to fade suddenly resurfaced; it took a moment more before she seemed to realize he'd said anything at all.

“Ah, I suppose I could, yes,” Kizmel managed after a short pause. “At this point, though, I'm not sure there is any reason to. We've shared for so long, it would honestly feel strange to change it. Although…” She coughed, turning her face toward the wall. “Since other things have changed, you may want to look away for a moment. Not that I have anything to hide, of course, but I know human standards are at least as different in the bedroom as the bath…”

It took Kirito a second to figure out her meaning. When he did, it was his turn to blush, and he whipped his head around to face the opposite wall. “S-sorry! I didn't think of that—”

If she's got player menus, then of course her equipment follows the same rules. Oh, man, I hope Asuna doesn't find out about this… I know Argo must've realized it right away. Crazy troll probably even figured Kizmel wouldn't think of it 'til the most awkward moment…

Instead of the brief chiming noise Kirito usually associated with Kizmel changing clothes—an instant swap from one outfit to another, the method by which a particular outfit was chosen something he'd never quite figured out—he heard several menu-selection sounds, and two distinct shimmering noises of equipment being switched. He tried very, very hard not to picture what the other side of the room looked like in the interval between sounds.

“As I said, Kirito, I have nothing to hide from you,” Kizmel told him. “I know it makes you uncomfortable, however, so it's something we should remember to take into account in the future.”

Then, and only then, did Kirito risk looking her way again. Despite her words, she looked noticeably more bashful than usual in her typical—admittedly not exactly very opaque—nightgown, and she slipped quickly under the blankets. Even so, she was smiling, so he figured she couldn't be too far out of her comfort zone.

Unlike me. This is really going to take some getting used to.

Hurrying to change the subject, he cleared his throat loudly. “All that aside—how are you taking it all, Kizmel? The changes, I mean. I tried to warn you how different things looked to Swordmasters, but it's really something you can only understand by experiencing it yourself…”

“It will take more than a few hours to really grow accustomed to it, I believe,” Kizmel admitted, blush fading as a thoughtful expression settled on her face. Letting her head sink into the pillow, she continued, “For one, I admit to being relieved the—cursors?—are not visible indoors. That was probably the most immediately disorienting change, besides the vitality and time markings in my vision.”

Kirito nodded at that. “Yeah, that even gets to us, sometimes. It's kinda distracting when you're just trying to have a conversation with somebody… It can save your life in the field, though. Helps to know how strong a mob is relative to you—or if you should treat another player as a threat on-sight.”

“Like the two this afternoon, of course.” She grimaced, but pushed past the reminder. “Otherwise… perhaps the most disconcerting thing is that I feel tired of thinking, yet I realize now my body is not fatigued at all. I'm starting to understand better how Swordmasters can keep fighting for so long. If you feel neither pain nor exhaustion…”

“That mental exhaustion can catch you at really bad times,” he warned her, remembering a long-ago dungeon and a flash like a shooting star in the dark. “You'll be able to fight for days on end if you have to, but it's better to keep a regular sleep schedule anyway, just in case. And you'll really need to keep an eye on your HP, if you're used to pain telling you when you're injured.”

At least, that was how it was for humans. The pain part he was pretty sure applied regardless, but Kirito honestly had no idea how closely the workings of Kizmel's AI mind resembled those of a human. Given that her reasoning was so similar, though, he figured it was better to be safe than sorry.

“I thought as much,” she agreed. “I wish now we'd reached the Reliquary sooner; we'll not have as much time as I would like for me to practice before confronting the Pillar Guardian.” Idly, she brought up her menu again, poking through it seemingly at random. Still marveling at the novelty, he suspected.

Kirito was somewhat puzzled by the fact that she'd left it in visible mode. Players didn't usually make their menus visible to others at all unless showing them something specific. A player's stats, after all, were some of the most critical secrets they had in this world, not something to be shared lightly.

Guess she means it when she says she's got nothing to hide from me, he mused, finally unequipping enough of his own gear to make sleeping easier without risking his modesty. Not that I've got anything to hide from her, either, on that score… And at least now I've got one question answered.

One thing Kirito had long been somewhat perplexed by was the way Kizmel's fighting style seemed to use skills from more than one weapon type. Tonight, when he'd gotten a look at her stats during the discussion with Argo, he'd noticed her weapon skill was listed as “Elven Blade”; an apparently unique skill that combined Sword Skills from One-Handed Curved Sword, Rapier, and regular One-Handed Sword.

Either that was one thing that hadn't changed when she gained player status—much as she retained the Mistmoon Cloak, however tattered it had gotten in the fighting—or it was another of the rumored skills Argo had mentioned the week before. With how everything had been going lately, he wasn't prepared to bet either way.

“Well,” Kizmel said presently, banishing her menu again, “we should have another two days, at least. We should make the most of them.” She drew the blankets up to her chin and turned a smile in Kirito's direction. “Good night, my friend.”

“'Night, Kizmel.” He pulled up his own covers and made ready to go to sleep himself; before closing his own menu, though, he decided to check his own skill status. With the kind of fighting they'd been doing lately, he figured he'd probably upped his One-Handed Sword levels a bit more, and probably his Battle Healing, too…

When he got to the list, though, and started to scroll through it, he suddenly froze. If there was one thing Kirito was very careful about, it was stat point and skill slot allocation; the latter in particular was so limited that he planned their use well in advance. Partly because of that, he also knew exactly when new skill slots became available.

So why do I have nine skills instead of eight…?

October 11th, 2023

If someone had told Asuna just a year before that there would come a time when she would be sitting at the head of an enormous table in a veritable war room, she would've called them a liar. Well, more likely she'd have thought it silently, unwilling to actually speak so plainly, but the sentiment would definitely have been there.

In the town of Eisha, the settlement closest to the Thirty-Seventh Floor's labyrinth, she now found herself in just that position. The building the clearing group had co-opted for large-scale meetings seemed to have been left behind by some local—apparently now-defunct—order of knights, and in one large room it contained a rectangular table with exactly forty-eight seats, most of which were now occupied by the players who would be participating in the next boss raid.

Forty-eight, Asuna mused, watching with calculated impassivity as more independent stragglers filed in for the meeting. I doubt that's a coincidence. Just the right size for a full raid… and I'm the master of ceremonies. When exactly did this start to feel normal?

A year before, she'd never touched a VR game in her life. Eleven months before, she'd been a solo just learning the ropes; four, and she'd been teamed with the most notorious player in the game, and an outcast by association. When the Paladin Heathcliff had invited her to join the nascent Knights of Blood, it had never occurred to her that he'd intended her to be his second, yet now, here she was.

Judging from the look on the face of the blue-haired, self-styled knight sitting at the center of another coalition of players, there were still some who disapproved of that. Lind, though, wasn't likely to make any kind of fuss at this late date, and not just because Heathcliff himself was standing at the wall behind her.

Second-in-command, and Leader only acts as one if a battle goes badly. I should be scared, not… confident.

Asuna was, though. Partly because the KoB as a whole had become a well-oiled unit, partly because for all Lind's arrogance his Divine Dragons Alliance was still a powerful force in its own right; even, partly, because Asuna now knew of another trump card, one that could make a significant difference in the upcoming battle.

But also because of the real heroes. …And what took them so long, anyway? Argo had slunk in and taken up a position in a particularly shadowy corner early on, but most of the regular raid members had taken seats well before the last pair arrived. Even a lot of the clearers who just help with mapping got here before they did. I know Kirito-kun likes to stay low, but being fashionably late isn't much better than being the first to arrive.

She gave a mental shrug and reminded herself to talk to Argo about it after the meeting. The pair had arrived in time; for now, that was the important thing. That in mind, Asuna lightly rapped her knuckles on the table. “It looks like everyone we're expecting for the raid is here, so let's begin. First of all, we have the final results from the scouting party. Shivata-san, if you'd care to present your report?”

Shivata had, long months before, been part of an impromptu boss raid of twelve, and in the wake of that victory had remained a reliable member of the clearing group. So had his girlfriend Liten, a tank who'd switched from the ALS to the DDA when the former group retreated from the front. Both of them had not only contributed heavily to many boss raids since, but were often part of the initial scouting parties, as well.

This time, though, Shivata hesitated at being called on. “Actually,” he said, exchanging a quick glance with Liten, “there's something our guild wanted to address before that, Vice-Commander…”

Lind abruptly stood up, rescuing his subordinate while simultaneously raising Asuna's hackles just from the expression on his face. “Yes, I'm afraid there's something I believe does need to be discussed, Vice-Commander. If you'll all indulge me, I think this concerns the clearing group as a whole.”

Kirito and Kizmel looked at each other, briefly but noticeably, at those words. Asuna wondered why; the two of them had been particularly elusive lately, so she couldn't imagine what they might know about the guildmaster's intent. “If you think it's that important, Lind-san, please, go ahead,” she said, watching the two out of the corner of her eye.

The DDA's guildmaster cleared his throat, looking grim. “Thank you, Vice-Commander. To begin with, I suspect you're all aware that the Divine Dragons Alliance lost a member soon after the last boss fight?”

There was a stir through the room, among the raid members and the mappers alike. It was Agil, sitting with his small merchant contingent, who gave direct voice to it. “Yeah, the news has been making the rounds. Word is Naga got PK'ed, actually. That right, Lind?”

“…I had hoped to keep the details quiet until we'd had more time to investigate,” Lind replied with a grimace. “But yes. This is the first confirmed direct PK since we were trapped here—we have witnesses—which leads me to my main point: Naga was the first, but he won't be the last… and the truth is, we all know he wasn't the real first murder. MPKs and duel PKs have been going on for months—most notably, perhaps, the near-total destruction of a small guild early last month.”

Asuna winced, both at the words themselves and at the visible flinch from the two survivors present from that very incident. I hadn't realized the details had spread so far. Not that he's wrong, unfortunately.

“It's something we're all gonna have to be on the lookout for, yeah,” Agil said, nodding unhappily. “Honestly, though, I don't think any of us really wanted to believe anybody'd be crazy enough to push things this far.”

“I didn't either,” Lind told him. “Unfortunately, it has, and Naga wasn't even the only intended victim on this floor. Right, Kirito?”

Surprised, Asuna turned her full attention on her old partner, just in time to see him direct a very wary look at the guildmaster. “…How do you know about that, Lind?”

“'How' doesn't really matter right now, Kirito,” Lind said, meeting the look with a hard one of his own. “Obviously it's true though, isn't it? That you were attacked by two PKers—while doing a rather unique quest, at that. One that rewarded you by giving your companion player privileges, am I right?”

Surprise turned to shock, Asuna's gaze falling on the heretofore silent Dark Elf in their midst. “Kizmel-chan? You—”

“There's no need to ask,” Lind interrupted, looking impatient. “You can test it for yourself easily enough, right, Vice-Commander? Cursors may be invisible indoors, but I'd think a simple friend request would settle the matter.”

She glared at him, but when Kizmel only smiled in her direction, looking resigned, Asuna obediently opened her menu and did as Lind suggested. To her further surprise, the request went through; and when she'd accepted it, Kizmel went on to open a menu window of her own, hesitantly navigating unseen options and carefully typing something.

A moment later, Asuna heard the chime of a friend message arriving. [Not how I was planning to tell you, my friend,] it said. [But yes. I'll tell you the story later—though no doubt you'll buy the details Kirito and I leave out from Argo.]

Kizmel-chan has player status now? But—how? Ooh, I am so getting the full story from Argo later!

She wanted to grab Kirito and wring it out of him right then, actually, but Lind wasn't done. “Truthfully,” he said, cutting through the murmuring that had started among the other clearers, “I bring up Lady Kizmel's status more to draw attention to the fact that I suspect the quest involved is non-repeatable.”

“So?” Agil asked, folding his arms and leaning back in his chair. “Unless you know another elf who hangs out with us players, I don't see how it matters. I think her and Kirito nearly getting PKed is kinda more important.”

“Certainly—which is why the nature of the quest matters, because I believe the sword Kirito also received from the quest is the reason they survived.”

Asuna looked over at Kirito again. She hadn't even realized he was carrying a new sword; and at first glance, she wouldn't have thought it mattered. The hilt looked old and decrepit, the sort of thing she'd have expected him to have taken only as an emergency measure until he could get a new one.

From the look on his face, though, Lind was onto something.

“…I was hoping no one would notice that,” Kirito said finally. “But if you're going to push it, Lind… Here's what went down at the Reliquary.”

The explanation of the “encounter” was brief and to the point; the details of the Baneblade, its power, and Kirito's belief that it was currently incomplete was somewhat less so. A PvP weapon in a game where PvP meant a literal duel to the death, it was both a powerful defense for its owner, and a heavy responsibility.

No wonder Kirito hadn't wanted to even reveal it existed. If there was anything more likely to revive the cries of “Beater”, with the possible addition of “murderer”, Asuna couldn't imagine it.

When Kirito finished the story, Lind nodded slowly. “Thank you, Kirito. That matches what I'd heard, and proves my point that this is something the entire clearing group needs to know about—and make a decision on.”

“Not so fast, Blue Boy,” came a dry interjection. Eyes were immediately drawn to Argo, who had actually stepped halfway out of her shadowed alcove. “Somethin' Kii-bou asked, and you still haven't answered: where'd ya hear all that? 'Cause I sure didn't tell ya. Fact is, all I've sold anybody 'bout the Reliquary quest was the dungeon locations. I don't trade in info nobody else can use.”

Lind opened his mouth again—probably to claim again that it didn't matter, Asuna thought acidly—but Kirito beat him to it. “From the PKers themselves, obviously,” he said evenly. “Or rather, whatever information dealer they use.”

The DDA leader frowned at him. “That's an unwarranted conclusion, Kirito—”

“It's the only possibility,” he said, cutting Lind off this time. “The only people who were present were Kizmel, me, and the killers. Argo was the only one we told, and you as know as well as I this isn't the kind of information she sells.” He fixed Lind with a hard gaze. “I'd say you should take a closer look at your source, Lind, because they're obviously dealing with some bad people.”

Lind looked back at the Black Swordsman for a long moment, obviously wanting to disagree, but in the end he only let out a slow breath. “…Perhaps you're right. But if PKers are themselves beginning to make use of info brokers in such a way, that only strengthens my point. This problem is growing, and measures must be taken—and not by individuals.”

On the one hand, Asuna couldn't actually disagree with him. She'd seen the very beginning of the player-killing crisis, had seen firsthand the devious manipulations the group led by the man now identified as “PoH” had inflicted on the clearing group. Three times in the first two months alone, they'd nearly thrown back clearing by months without directly striking a blow.

Now they've killed Naga, nearly killed two of my friends, and if Kirito-kun and Kizmel-chan are right, did kill most of a guild. They are getting bolder. Still… I don't like where Lind is going with this.

Aloud, Asuna said, “I take it, Lind-san, you have a suggestion?”

Lind shrugged. “Obviously, this is going to take much discussion, most of which will have to wait until after this next boss. That said, there's a first step that can be taken right now, which I believe would be beneficial for all involved.” He turned back to the duo at the heart of the discussion. “Kirito, you've nearly been killed while supported only by an NPC, and have acquired a unique weapon whose use is, really, the concern of the players as a whole. Don't you think it's in your best interests, and ours, if you bring that—and your unique ally, of course—into a guild?”

It took all of Asuna's self-control not to either bury her face in her hands, or challenge Lind to a duel. Seriously?! After all this time, now of all times, you're bringing that up again?!

Oblivious to her reaction, Diavel's self-styled successor continued earnestly, “Surely, Kirito, you have to agree that the Baneblade's disposition is everyone's business, given its deterrence potential against PKers. In turn, you've been a solo ever since your partner joined the Knights of Blood, with only an NPC for backup. The recent attack should be evidence enough of how dangerous your current status is.” He spread his hands. “I'm sure any guild would be glad to have you, especially with the ALS no longer on the frontline…”

And the most galling thing of all, Lind, is that I don't think you even realize how condescending you're being. Asuna bowed her head, thoughts racing as she tried to compose a rebuttal. Almost as bad is that I'm more worried about him than you are, so I can't even say you're completely wrong…

She finally opened her mouth to speak, intending to at least say something to stall for a little time, but someone else beat her to the punch. “Why should he, Guildmaster?”

Lind looked to Kizmel in surprise. Up to now, he'd been mostly ignoring her, as was his usual practice; Asuna had noticed long before he had less patience with “playing along” with Kirito's partner than most, and she could see his dismissive attitude even now. Even so, he obviously hadn't expected a direct question. “I beg your pardon, Lady Kizmel?”

Kizmel rose to her feet. “I asked why Kirito and I should consider joining a guild at all, Guildmaster Lind. Guilds certainly have not impressed me with their treatment of him before.”

Kirito winced. “Kizmel,” he began, “you don't need to—”

“Yes, I do,” she said firmly. “If you will not, someone has to.” She returned her challenging stare to Lind. “I've heard what happened when the first Pillar Guardian was killed, Guildmaster. How Kirito was forced to make himself look worse than his own fellows to spare them from danger—after you, specifically, accused him of letting Sir Diavel die.”

It was Lind's turn to flinch. “I spoke hastily, not understanding the situation,” he said after a moment. “Later, you may be aware, I was one of those offering Kirito a place in a guild—”

“On the condition that he separate from his partner, one of the few people treating him well at the time,” Kizmel interrupted. “Because together they were 'too strong'. Yes,” she added when his eyes widened in surprise, “I was watching then, Guildmaster. Just as I watched Kirito repeatedly play the role of a villain for the sake of keeping peace between your guild and Kibaou's. Kibaou, who at times seemed not to acknowledge Kirito's efforts solely because politics prevented it.”

Asuna suddenly found herself hiding a smile at that one. Kibaou had always been the more belligerent of the two guild leaders, but he'd also been the more honest, in her mind. From the way Lind's face twisted, she suspected he didn't like that insinuation one bit.

Any amusem*nt Kizmel felt at the sight quickly vanished, a very somber—sad, really—expression taking its place. “After all that,” she said softly, “we spent some time with the Moonlit Black Cats—the very guild you mentioned was destroyed last month. And after everything we did to help them, we were the ones Guildmaster Keita blamed for their deaths. Nor did he attempt to persuade his only surviving guildmate to stay with him, or go with her when she chose to keep fighting.

“So tell me, Guildmaster Lind,” Kizmel said, folding her arms. “When your 'guilds' have never treated my partner as anything more than a pariah or a weapon—and your emphasis on the Baneblade and my 'power' suggests today is no different—why, exactly, should we consider joining one now? It's true, I've earned the right to call myself a Swordmaster, and I treasure that right, but the truth is my people—whom you would dismiss as mere phantoms in a dream—have been kinder to Kirito than you ever have.”

If she hadn't felt a need to maintain the dignity of her position as Vice-Commander, Asuna would've stood up and cheered at that. After all the high-handed lectures she'd had to endure from Lind back when she was Kirito's partner, all the times his clashes with Kibaou had threatened the integrity of the clearing group, it was deeply satisfying to hear someone finally call the self-styled knight out on his self-righteousness.

The look on Lind's face fully lived up to her hopes, a slack-jawed incredulity mixed with a flush of indignation. She wasn't sure if it came from being called out in the first place, or that it was a “mere NPC” doing it—probably both, she thought—but either way, it was satisfying, and she suspected she wasn't alone in that opinion.

A sudden clang, caused by Liten's heavy gauntlet hitting her boyfriend's armor, suggested the feeling may have actually been shared by some of the DDA themselves. Not many of them, though; even Hafner looks a little irritated. Too bad.

Before Lind could recover his poise enough to respond, Agil rapped his knuckles on the table. “Lady's got a point,” he said mildly; unlike many of the other clearers present, he seemed completely unperturbed by Kizmel's very un-NPC-like behavior. “Guilds and Kirito don't exactly have the greatest history. On the other hand, Lind's got a point, too.” The big merchant didn't look happy admitting that, but he did so unflinchingly. “Right now, I don't know that that sword means anything. If things keep going the way they have, though, it might be important someday. If there really is a whole group of PKers—call 'em a red guild, I guess—Lind's right that things could get a lot worse.”

Asuna wished she could disagree with that. She did still disagree with Lind's solution, but she could see the writing on the wall as well as anyone; she'd seen it coming as long as Kirito had. But deciding how to deal with the Baneblade—assuming they really had any right to try and take it from Kirito in the first place—wasn't as simple a question as Lind wanted to think.

Despite being so called out, Lind did seem to be about to press his case further. Just as he was opening his mouth, though, another calm, quiet voice spoke first. “I agree that there is merit to Guildmaster Lind's position,” Heathcliff said from behind Asuna's chair. “However, I believe there's prior precedent for this situation which might be taken into consideration. Correct, Vice-Commander?”

At first, she had no idea what he was talking about. Then, suddenly, Asuna recalled that she had been in this position once before—as had Kirito. And Lind, if he'd just admit it. Even now, he's still playing his power games.

Taking a breath, she mentally apologized to Kirito for what she was about to do, and stood. “The Commander is correct,” she said evenly, sweeping her gaze over the assembled clearers. “Many of you weren't in the clearing group at the time, but on the Fifth Floor, the boss dropped an item that would've greatly altered the balance of power between guilds. No one could decide who should have it, so in the end it was decided a neutral party should retain custody of it for the time being.”

She could see Kirito hide a wince, but he made no move to interrupt her. She'd known he wouldn't, of course—which didn't make her feel any better about what she was doing. If anything, that just made it worse.

“The Baneblade is not as significant as that item was,” Asuna continued. “Not as things stand today. But Lind-san and Agil-san are right: the PKer problem is getting worse, not better. If things do escalate that far, we might need that weapon—and as with the guild flag, it's clear no one will be able to agree which guild ought to have its power.

“Kirito-kun,” she said, addressing him directly now, “if you were to join any guild, the Knights of Blood would be glad to have you. I'm sure the Commander would agree with me on that. But Kizmel-chan is right, too, and if you do still want to avoid guilds…” Asuna looked out to the group at large again. “I propose, at least for the time being, the same solution as for the guild flag: leave it in the hands of a neutral party, who we know is neither a PKer nor aligned with any one guild.”

After all the times she'd watched Kirito willingly play the villain, she hated herself for being the one to suggest it now. She saw little choice, though, if the integrity of the clearing group was to be maintained; Lind would never stand for the Baneblade being with the KoB, and she was too wary of the direction the DDA was going to want to risk leaving it in their hands, either.

Outside of the DDA, at least, the idea seemed to be acceptable. There were one or two disgruntled faces among her own KoB, but the Legend Braves looked all in favor, as did most of the solos. Kizmel was actually smiling at her, while Kirito looked… resigned, she thought, As if he'd expected the outcome.

It was again Agil who played the role of third-party advocate. “Sounds like a plan, Vice-Commander.” Suddenly, he snorted. “Sounds like a lot of fuss for one sword, now that we've all said this heavy stuff. Might as well not have brought it up at all. So… how about we actually get to that boss-planning, huh? That okay with you, Lind?”

From the look on his face, it was not exactly “okay” with Lind, but the man forced out a grudging nod anyway. “I suppose that will do… for now,” he said, slowly returning to his seat. “Though we may need to discuss this again in the future.”

“We might,” Asuna acknowledged. “In the meantime… Shivata-san, I believe we were about to go over your report?”

Looking deeply relieved that it was all over, the DDA scout nodded. “Ah, yes, Vice-Commander. First of all—”

At least the boss planning itself had ended up being straightforward, Kirito reflected. Shivata's scouting party had done a thorough job; barring a surprise state change when the last life bar went into the red, it looked like the battle was going to be fairly routine.

Unlike the rest of that meeting, he thought ruefully, as he and Kizmel headed into the Thirty-Seventh Floor's labyrinth with the rest of the raid group. I didn't count on Lind knowing the same info broker PoH's using. Still… it could've been worse.

Agil's level-headedness had as been as welcome as ever, and Kirito had to admit he felt better after the merchant's comments about it just being one sword. Especially after the way Asuna had put forward her solution to the whole mess.

Not a suggestion she'd have made back when they were partners, he was sure. As a guild leader, though, he knew she had to look at the bigger picture now; and as Agil had said, it really was just a sword. However much Lind talked it up, as things stood it didn't really matter.

One nice thing about traveling in such a large group: even the mobs inhabiting the labyrinth leading to the next floor didn't pose anything resembling a real threat. The raid group made enough noise to attract every monster within earshot, but they were dealt with as easily as swatting flies—something which couldn't quite be said of navigating the labyrinth itself.

“I hate it when floors trick us like this,” Agil grumbled as they walked through a corridor that had been turned sideways. “The main map isn't the maze the last one was, so I thought this was gonna be a breather level. Then we get to the dungeons, and we find this.”

The big merchant and his friends Lowbacca, Wolfgang, and Naijan had joined the two “outcasts” for the raid. Kirito was grateful for their support, being among the few players left in the clearing group who knew what had really gone on in incidents like the aftermath of Diavel's death.

“I wish I were more surprised,” Kizmel remarked, shaking her head. “Unfortunately, Kirito and I faced similarly confusing labyrinths in the quest we were pursuing… Truthfully, I find this place less arduous. There are no squids, and whatever their other faults might be the Dragon Knights' discipline is proving helpful here.”

Kirito couldn't argue with that, much as he'd have liked to. Maybe because of the way Lind had been challenged in the meeting, his DDA was going out of its way to quickly and efficiently open the way forward. This particular labyrinth had reset its puzzles between visits, leaving twisted corridors blocking the way and doors positioned in awkward places; the DDA members had apparently memorized Argo's maps, however, and were splitting off to flip switches and then regrouping with impressive speed.

“Never said they weren't good at what they did,” Agil said with a shrug. “I could wish Lind would get off his high horse, though.” He shot a grin at Kizmel at that. “Nice one, by the way. I don't think I've seen the guy pushed back like that since Heathcliff poached the Flash for the KoB.”

“It was nothing but the truth,” she said simply. “I might be willing to consider Asuna's offer, but Guildmaster Lind's? No. Not after how Kirito has been treated by him.” The elf girl grimaced; probably because of her train of thought, though Kirito thought the rotting hand that suddenly dropped from the ceiling—only to be slashed to pieces by her saber and Agil's axe before it got very far—might also have contributed. “Nor when it's plain Lind does not regard me as 'real'.”

“Gotta admit, Kizmel, he's not exactly alone in that,” Wolfgang pointed out, pausing to bat a Skeleton Knight aside with his greatsword. The walking bones careened toward the Legend Braves, a guild once ostracized but rehabilitated by the KoB after the Twenty-Fifth Floor debacle; they promptly tore the Skeleton to pieces. “Honestly, I pretty much thought that myself,” he continued. “After that little speech of yours? Not so sure.”

“Told ya,” Agil said. “Beats me what's going on either, but if she's a regular NPC I'll eat my axe.”

Once, Kirito would've expected his partner to react with mild bemusem*nt. Now, she simply smiled and remarked, “I'll do my best to see that you have no reason to do that, Agil. As Argo might say, it's probably bad for your digestion.”

The merchants let out a collective laugh at that—then conversation lapsed as they reached the next floor of the labyrinth, where it looked like every mob in it was waiting for them.

Including several Ignition Squids, to Kizmel's obvious irritation.

When they reached the boss room at last, Asuna stepped to the forefront of the group, alongside a typically-stoic Heathcliff. “Here we are,” she said simply. “Follow the plan, and we'll be fine. There shouldn't be any surprises in this battle.”

“And if there are, Vice-Commander?”

She fixed Lind with a flat stare, obviously annoyed by his continued pushing. “As mentioned in the briefing, we do have one or two surprises of our own if we need them, Guildmaster. If we do, you'll see.”

If it had been her own people involved, Kizmel would've been surprised by the fact that Lind didn't try to pry further. Among the Swordmasters, though, she'd gotten depressingly used to the secrets they habitually kept from one another. That distrust is one of the greatest problems facing the conquest of this castle, she thought sadly. Yet after what I've seen, they really have no choice.

At least I have someone from whom I need not hide.

Truthfully, she was glad when the massive doors to the Pillar Guardian's dark chamber groaned open, allowing the raid group to enter. As evil—and dangerous—as the monsters that infested Aincrad were, they were an honest threat.

When the forty-eight Swordmasters had all entered the chamber, there was a deep silence for several moments. Then, in a sequence that always gave Kizmel a twinge of remembered grief, torches along the walls lit up one by one, eventually revealing what waited for them at the far end.

Four groups of three Black Knights, as heavily-armored as those she and Kirito had originally encountered. And in the center of their formation, a figure in similar armor but with an open-faced helmet, riding a similarly-armored black horse. The mounted knight's left arm carried a shield not unlike Kizmel's; the right, a black sword, lighter than the Black Knights' heavy blades yet heavier than those they used when their armor was destroyed.

For the first time, Kizmel was able to see them all as her partner did. She saw, and understood, the dark red cursors above the Black Knights, and above the mounted knight's bearded head she saw his name: Amon: The Phantom Tyrant.

“Teams C through F, focus on the Black Knights!” Asuna called out, drawing her shining rapier with a shing of metal-on-metal. “A and B, we're going for Amon!”

A and B were her own team of elite Knights of Blood and Lind's own party of Dragon Knights. Not how Kizmel might've chosen, but then she wasn't really a strategist herself, and she recognized the need to placate the leader of the second most prominent clearing guild. She and Kirito were part of F, which meant—

“We always seem to get mob cleanup,” Kirito grumbled, drawing the Baneblade. “Why is it always us?”

“So that you can suddenly switch to the main boss at just the right moment and save the day, of course,” Agil told him with a grin, twirling his axe. “Not to mention get the LA. C'mon, let's do this!”

Kizmel thought her partner muttered something else under his breath, but even her ears couldn't quite catch it. Then, with a sigh, he took off after Agil, heading for the nearest trio of Black Knights.

As had been discussed before the battle, they split into pairs when they reached the Knights. Kirito and Kizmel went for one of them from the sides, the human cutting into the right flank with a basic Slant, the elf doing the same on the left with a Horizontal. When the Knight tried to swing its heavy blade after Kirito in return, Agil and Wolfgang slipped into the opening and dropped a Helm-Cleaver and an Avalanche on its head and chest.

A simple enough strategy to overwhelm them, Kizmel thought, spinning to rip into the Knight's back with a Reaver while it was recoiling. Two of us to distract, two to deal heavier wounds, and the remaining pair fending off the other two Knights. …This should be much easier than the previous times we've fought these foes.

She'd meant every word she'd said to Lind about guilds. At the same time, she couldn't deny the advantages of a full party at times like these; trying to battle three Black Knights at once would've difficult, to say the least, were it just herself and Kirito. Either of them alone, she was sure, it would've been suicide.

Right now, Kizmel felt her greatest worry came from the pieces of armor that were already starting to fly off the first Knight; she actually had an attempted Linear thrown off when one of its pauldrons came free and ricocheted off the side of her head. She felt no pain, but it still staggered her, forcing Kirito to dance a step sideways before launching his own next attack.

Glancing up at the “display” hovering in the corners of her vision, she tried to see just how badly she'd been injured. It took her a moment to focus on the right “HP bar”, those of her comrades providing a distraction she hadn't counted on before the battle began. Just a scratch—but I really must find a way to train in a full group before the next Pillar Guardian. Such a delay could easily be fatal.

She was still very much in the blue for now, though, and the first Black Knight's outer armor was falling away. Knowing what was coming, she and Kirito split to either side, dodging the thrown sword; Kizmel promptly had to jump back to where she'd started when the Knight Naijan was keeping busy spared a moment from him to try and cut her in two. That suited her just fine, though, since it let her turn the evasion into the beginning of a Treble Scythe that ground most of her own foe's health down while it was trying to skewer Kirito.

Naijan replied to the errant blow by smashing his enormous hammer into his enemy's head. “Your mother was a hamster!” he told it as it staggered.

Catching the first Black Knight's next skill on her shield, Kizmel risked a glance at Kirito. “A hamster?” she said, confused by the odd insult.

“Beats me!” he called back, carving into the Knight's neck with a Snake Bite. “But you know Agil's crowd, they're all a bit strange!”

“You're callin' us strange?” Agil said indignantly, axe spinning in a Whirlwind that finally sent the Black Knight's head sailing away, trailing red light. “Like you've got room to talk… Naijan, Lowbacca, who's next?”

“Oh, I've got this guy under control,” Naijan said, casually smashing aside his opponent's sword with his hammer. “I can wait—and you have the manners of a goat!” he added to the Knight.

Still confused, Kizmel turned her attention to Lowbacca's foe, who actually was giving the party's other axeman a rough time. Every time I think I'm beginning to understand the Swordmasters, one of them says something completely beyond my comprehension. …Perhaps Argo will have some idea.

Although after the last “explanation” she'd gotten from the Rat, she wasn't sure that was safe. Her ears still burned at the thought of what Argo had suggested the Ethics Code option was good for…

If someone had told Asuna a year before that life-and-death battles involving dozens of other people and as many—sometimes more—monsters would eventually become routine for her, she would've thought they were crazy. Yet “routine” was really the only way to describe what was happening.

Thirty-seven floor bosses, she thought in a detached corner of her mind, trying to keep an eye on the battle as a whole in between striking at Amon herself. Almost as many field bosses. And since the Twenty-Fifth Floor, I've been leading these battles as often as not.

…Did Kirito-kun's Attract Implausible Events skill rub off on me?

Ahead of her, her own guildmaster was holding up his enormous shield to fend off Amon's heavy blade, while the other four members of their party, along with Lind's personal group, hacked away at the Tyrant and his horse. As usual, Heathcliff seemed more comfortable in a defensive role, acting as the most efficient tank Asuna had ever seen to allow the DPS players to do their part.

Routine so far, at least, she mused, stepping back for a moment to take stock of the situation. The horse was already down to the second of its three lifebars, which meant Amon would soon be undergoing a rather abrupt state change; in the meantime, the DPSers hacking at its flanks had to dodge around its stomping hooves, which even Heathcliff's shield could do little to restrain.

Off to the sides, mob control was going exactly as planned. Teams C and E had taken out one Black Knight each, while D had actually started in on their last; with six people attacking just one, it wouldn't last long, either. At the same time, Asuna was completely unsurprised to see that Team F had finished their three already, and had retreated to the edge of the boss room to heal.

First three, Asuna reminded herself. Each time Amon loses a lifebar, more will spawn. Sorry, Kirito-kun, Kizmel-chan… Hang in there. At least until it's time for the Last Attack.

“Vice-Commander, Switch!”

Reflex honed by hundreds of battles had Asuna dashing toward Amon's horse, leading with her rapier, before the words had finished penetrating her strategizing reverie. She passed by Havok, the KoB player who'd called for her, and charged the boss with a wordless yell. Just as she reached the horse's side, it reared up and tried to turn on its rear hooves, obviously trying to trample her; she ducked to the side ahead of it, and drew her blade back for a skill.

Enveloped in bright azure light, Asuna's rapier sped out to pierce the beast's hide, then came back out just as quickly. Then back in, out, and in twice more, the powerful Quadruple Pain finishing off the horse's second lifebar entirely.

In the stun inflicted by Quadruple Pain, Asuna herself caught for a moment in the post-motion of her attack, Lind suddenly rushed in, leading off with the three back-and-forth slashes and spin of the Horizontal Square. The horse neighed in pain, almost toppling itself and its rider to the floor; the impact of Lind's comrades adding several light Sword Skills of their own nearly finished the job.

At the same time, their actions pushed horse and rider alike away from Heathcliff's shield, freeing Amon's sword from its interference.

Grinning beneath his beard, Amon took the chance to draw his blade back to charge a skill of his own—and nudged his horse right beside Asuna herself. She'd recovered from Quadruple Pain's delay, but there was no time to move back; only time to either guard, or emulate one of her old partner's tricks.

Amon leaned down to launch a Sharp Nail, despite the awkward angle. Asuna met it with the opening move of a Triangular, setting off a loud boom as two skills collided, the shock of it driving them both back—at the same time giving Teams A and B plenty of openings to try and finish off the horse.

Asuna didn't join them this time. She'd blunted the skill, but it hadn't been without cost, so she skipped back and to the side, until she was standing behind Heathcliff's reassuringly heavy armor and shield.

“Well done,” he commented quietly, as she drew out and opened a potion.

She hid her flush of pride at the compliment behind the bottle, making sure to down the whole thing as quickly as she could. When it was finished—and her expression was back under her control—she started to reply, only to be saved the necessity of by a glimpse of the horse's HP bar. “We're about to hit a state change!” she called out over the din of multiple Sword Skills going off at once. “A and B, watch for any tricks; mob control, watch for respawns!”

A few moments later, with a final Savage Fulcrum from Lind, the horse made one last cry of agony. It reared up, sending Amon flying, froze in place for a split second—and shattered into a million azure fragments.

As predicted, Asuna could hear the sound of fresh mobs spawning at the edges of the room. Those, though, she knew she could leave to the other teams; her eyes were on The Phantom Tyrant, who'd managed to land in a controlled crouch. Coming to his feet, Amon looked at the Swordmasters who'd killed his mount… and smiled.

Still following the pattern the scouts reported, she told herself. This is just regular programming. He's not like Kizmel-chan…

“A and B, with me!” she called out, loud but calm. “He's only down by half, don't let your guard down yet!”

The heavy blade hit her left flank hard enough to make her stumble a couple of steps to one side as it passed, but Kizmel only paused to recover her footing before lunging at the Black Knight who'd thrown it. This was the seventh she'd engaged since the battle began; by now, she was beginning to get used to the lack of pain even from heavy impacts.

No pain, no fatigue, she thought, carving an Uppercut through the Knight's chest armor. Off-balance, it clattered back a pace, giving Lowbacca the chance to smash his axe into its spine. So this is how the Swordmasters have accomplished to much, despite having come to this world unprepared…

Kirito blurred past her, ripping the Baneblade down through the Black Knight's left shoulder with a Sonic Leap. His new blade conferred no special strength against mere mobs, but it was nonetheless a quality weapon in its own right; despite its decrepit appearance, its blow took the Knight's “HP” down to the red. “Kizmel, Switch!”

The elf didn't need the call, already in motion again. Darting in on her partner's right, her Eldhi Arc glowed a deep crimson as it mirrored the line of Kirito's cut, then came back around and traced the path that Sonic Leap had taken.

With a guttural cry, the Black Knight shattered, and Kizmel whirled to confront her next foe.

Vitality expressed as numbers. At first it was so confusing, but now… In a world like the tales say our people lived in before the Great Separation, it would've made no sense, yet when one can keep fighting until the last of one's life is extinguished, it has a terrible simplicity.

It was disturbing, thinking of life itself in terms of mere numbers, but in combat Kizmel could see the cold logic. No wonder even those who'd been untrained civilians a year before could direct battles like hardened veterans.

Although, she thought, risking a glance at Team A as she ducked under the next Black Knight's sword, there are some here who I have no doubt simply have natural talent. Here or in any other world, some of them would thrive.

Directing the flow of battle while dancing among the blades herself, to Kizmel's eyes Asuna was not a student thrown unexpectedly into a life and death struggle, but a born leader and swordswoman who had only needed to find the world in which her talents could be expressed.

There were others she saw like that, as she moved among the blades of the remaining Black Knights to disarm and destroy them. Her own partner, as she knew well; also a blonde solo with a strange, ridge-backed short sword she could see with another of the parties, who'd managed to trap a Black Knight's lighter sword in one of those ridges. An older man she didn't recognize took the opening in an instant, hacking the Knight's head clean off with a heavy greatsword.

Sachi, too, Kizmel mused, driving her saber into the throat of her own foe. Her own fear held her back, nothing more—ah! Spinning away as soon as her latest skill had released her, she almost avoided the blow the last of the current trio of Knights had aimed at her leg. “Almost” wasn't quite good enough, though, and the impact stole her balance entirely.

“Kizmel!” Even as she spun to the floor, she caught a glimpse of Kirito driving the Baneblade into the offender's shoulder, leaving the other to be finished by three irate merchants. Driving it back, he continued, “Are you alright?!”

“It's nothing,” she called back. “I just—need a moment to find my bearings.” Now that she had the privileges of a Swordmaster, she might no longer have felt pain, but Kizmel had just discovered being knocked to the floor was still disorienting. Despite her best efforts, it took a few moments before she could gain purchase to push herself back to her feet.

When she did, it was just in time to notice that Amon's final HP bar was nearing critical—and see a wild grin appear on his face. An icy chill ran down Kizmel's spine at the sight, and without thinking she yelled out, “Asuna! Something's about to happen!”

“Everyone, guard!” Asuna snapped at once, leaping back a step to shelter behind Heathcliff. “I think there's about to be a state—”

Amon flung his shield to one side, letting out a deep, booming laugh at the same time. Gripping his sword in both hands, he brought it to his shoulder, where it began to glow with the telltale light of a Sword Skill; then, despite no players being within the weapon's reach, he swung it in a wide arc—sending out a broad wave of brilliant spheres along the blade's arc.

Tanks like Liten, Hafner, and Heathcliff withstood the unexpected attack well enough, as did those who'd managed to get behind them. Kizmel, with a lighter shield, stumbled back a couple of steps, but held her footing; next to her, Kirito started the Baneblade whirling in his hand, defending himself with the Spinning Shield skill.

Some of the lighter Swordmasters, such as Lind, were thrown completely off their feet. Which, Kizmel knew, would've been hazardous enough with the surprising change in Amon's tactics. Making it worse in this case was that, as soon as the attack was past, the edges of the chamber flared with the arrival of a dozen fresh Black Knights, many of them close to the fallen Swordmasters.

At the same time, Amon himself leapt back to the far end of the room, where he watched the scene and laughed.

Kizmel could see in Kirito's eyes what he was thinking. Only the tanks and a few lucky ones like themselves were still on their feet at all; over half the raid group was prone, as disoriented as she'd been earlier and worse-injured, and at least ten of them were under imminent threat from the newly-arrived Black Knights.

Two of them, at most, the pair of them could reach in time. The rest…

“Everyone still on their feet, help the fallen!” Asuna shouted over the din. “Then pull back and heal! Leader—”

As unflappable as ever, the red-garbed knight Heathcliff simply nodded. “Of course, Vice-Commander.” Leaving his shield planted firmly between him and Amon, he held out his blade in a position Kizmel didn't recognize, but which did start the weapon gleaming with a golden light.

Then, just as the blonde girl Kizmel had noticed earlier was about to take a Black Knight's sword to the neck, Heathcliff swung his directly over his head with a shout, pointing it to the ceiling. The brilliant flash that filled the room suddenly gave Kizmel a clue about the “unique skill” Argo had hinted at a week and many battles ago.

The light was brilliant to her eyes, at least. To the Black Knights, it was apparently blinding; as one, the new arrivals stumbled back, shielding their eyes. “Now!” Asuna ordered. “Pull everyone back!”

Some of the downed players managed to haul themselves up in the opening Heathcliff's strange skill had given them, and they helped the tanks drag those who were still stunned away from the frontline. Kizmel almost moved to help herself, but Kirito gave a minute shake of his head, a frown on his face.

When he burst into sudden motion a moment later, she followed. He skidded to a halt beside Heathcliff, already starting another Spinning Shield; taking the cue, she set herself and raised her shield to widen the defense.

As Kirito had obviously realized, Amon took that moment—when the retreating fighters' backs were turned—to unleash another wave of energy spheres. Between the two with physical shields and Kirito's Weapon Defense skill, though, the attacks that might've finished off some of the wounded were deflected before they ever reached their targets.

“Ranged attacks at critical health,” Asuna muttered behind them, voice taut with the iron control of someone determined not to panic. “A full twelve new adds. We need to go on the attack if we're going to give the others time to heal, but I don't know if we can defend against Amon's attacks on the move…”

“I've got an idea,” Kirito told her, staring hard at Amon. “Let me lead with Kizmel, and bring a few other DPSers behind us.”

When Kizmel glanced back, she saw Asuna frowning. “You can't keep up Spinning Shield while running, Kirito-kun.”

“I know. But I think I know what's up with this boss.” He finally turned back to look at her. “Trust me?”

That seemed to snap the KoB vice-commander's hesitation. “Right.” Raising her voice, she called out, “Leader, please guard those on POT rotation. The rest of Team A, with me! Everyone else, keep the adds off us!”

Lind's head whipped around. “Vice-Commander,” he began indignantly, “we should still—”

“You're half-dead,” Asuna cut him off. “Heal, then—Kirito-kun, incoming!”

Amon had taken advantage of the brief conference to launch another attack—this one aimed very specifically at the three who'd thwarted him before. Kizmel and Heathcliff both readied their shields, but Kirito took a single step forward, shouted, and swung the Baneblade across the path of the attack.

With a sound not unlike that of two Sword Skills colliding, the blast of energy struck the blade, rebounded, and sailed back across the room to crash into the wall just a few paces to Amon's right.

Kirito's only response to the looks Kizmel and Asuna favored him with was a sheepish grin. “Gotta thank Argo for jogging my memory later… C'mon, let's go!”

They didn't need further encouragement. While most of the rest of the raid continued to recover their health or charged to head off the Black Knights, Kizmel, Asuna, and four other Knights of Blood followed Kirito in a dead run toward the far end of the room, where Amon still stood laughing. The Phantom Tyrant wasn't idle either, though, swinging his dark sword again and again to hurl balls of energy in their path.

Each time, Kirito swung the Baneblade, knocking them back again and again—one of them even catching Amon himself in the chin, staggering him for a few crucial seconds.

Kizmel quickly realized it wasn't quite the stunning display of precise reflexes it appeared—each time the Baneblade approached one of Amon's attacks, the blade took on a glow that reached somewhat beyond its own width—but it was still impressive. More importantly, it kept them from having to stop and guard along the way.

Kirito did miss one of them, when they were almost to the Phantom Tyrant; but while the solid impact to her chest made Kizmel stumble, she kept her footing and continued on. Just a little more, she thought, gaze focused on the gleaming red bar above Amon's head. Defeat him, and the Black Knights no longer matter!

Asuna was the first of them to reach Amon. Kirito had slowed to swat an energy burst heading for the healing players behind them, and in that opening she slipped past to drive a blinding-quick Linear into Amon's chest. Kizmel followed in her wake, putting all the energy of her charge into a Shooting Star thrust directly beneath Asuna's blow.

The other members of Asuna's team came in just behind them, tearing into the Phantom Tyrant with a flurry of Sword Skills too fast and varied for Kizmel to keep track. Amon staggered under the onslaught, his health dwindling rapidly; then, in the moment his attackers were recovering from their own skills, he let out a bark of laughter, drew back his sword, and unleashed a solid wave of golden light.

Unprepared for the wide attack, Kizmel was flung back in a tumble with the others, landing in a tangled heap with Asuna. Dazed by the impact, she heard a faint chiming noise in her head; before she could figure out what it was, though, it was drowned out by Kirito's loud battle cry.

Her partner had evidently cut himself a gap in Amon's last attack with the Baneblade, and now he came to a halt right in front of it with a stomp. At the same time the Baneblade lit up with a bright blue gleam, cleaving straight up Amon's chest armor, to the left across his collarbone, down the other side, and finally ripping to the right out through his stomach.

Amon staggered once more, and tried to retaliate with another energy attack. The blast came out just a little too slow, though; Kirito cut through most of it, only flinching slightly at the fragment that bit into his shoulder. He followed up with a Vertical Arc, the V-shaped slash crossing the red lines his Vertical Square had left behind.

Then Kizmel was back on her feet, and together with Asuna drove a matched set of Linears into Amon's gut. The Phantom Tyrant finally howled in pain with that blow, drawing the elf's attention back to his health bar—now almost empty, with a small amount of flickering red at the very end.

She exchanged a glance with Asuna, who rolled her eyes, grinned ruefully, and joined her in leaping back. “All yours, Kirito-kun!”

“It's not like I always do this on purpose, y'know!” Kirito called back. Despite the protest, though, he didn't hesitate to draw the Baneblade back to begin one last skill. Snapping it forward then, cutting through a final blast of energy from the Phantom Tyrant, he etched the inverted triangle of a Sharp Nail in deep red lines through Amon's neck and chest.

The dark knight let out a final, weak laugh. His sword dropped from his hand, and his head dropped to rest his chin on his chest.

The [Congratulations!] that appeared in the center of the chamber with Amon's shattering, along with the strange fanfare that Kizmel heard in her ears, almost didn't register. She was too busy realizing Kirito had been entirely correct at how tiring a battle could still be, even without physical exhaustion. If someone had offered her a bed then and there, she'd have taken it in a heartbeat.

“Well,” Kirito managed at length, flourishing the Baneblade much more slowly than usual, “that was kind of interesting. I thought there wasn't supposed to be that kind of magic left in Aincrad?”

“Clearly the evil that has infested the castle knows things we do not,” Kizmel said wearily, sheathing Eldhi Arc. She managed a smile then. “Fortunately, we had exactly what was needed to counter it, yes?”

“I am so buying the details from Argo later,” Asuna said, fixing them both with a mock-glare. “I know you two have been holding out on me, if Kizmel-chan is really a Swordmaster now, too. I was hoping, but—” She broke off, eyes widening. “Kizmel-chan, your HP!”

“Eh?” Kizmel blinked. Glancing up to her left, she finally got a good look at her own health again, and her eyes widened at the sight: her own HP was in the red, the bar flashing in time with the chiming in her ear.

Hurriedly, she drew a potion from her belt and downed it. “Why didn't you pull back and heal earlier?” Kirito demanded, his face having turned distinctly pale. “If you'd taken that much damage—”

“Ah…” She blushed, embarrassment chasing back the chill of her unknowing brush with death. “Apparently, I need more practice? Truthfully I found it difficult to remember to check my 'HP bar' in the fighting, and without pain to remind me…” She coughed. “At any rate. You did strike the final blow, Kirito. Did you receive anything of note?” She still found it odd, the way killing enemies caused materials to appear directly in Swordmasters' “inventories”—and it was a much safer topic just then regardless.

From Asuna's flat stare, she suspected she wasn't off the hook yet, but it did seem to distract Kirito, whom promptly brought up his menu. “Oh, yeah. Let's see… Well, that could be handy.”

With a few strokes in the air, he made a sword materialize in his hand. A weapon of the same class he always used, and more ornate than the Baneblade currently was, if probably less than what the ancient weapon would be when fully restored.

Kirito lifted it for the raid as a whole to see. “The LA Bonus this time is just an ordinary sword,” he called out. “About as good as the Baneblade's regular stats, but nothing special. So unless somebody has a good objection, I'm keeping this; I could use something a little less conspicuous.”

From the look of things, Lind for one would have liked to object, though Kizmel wasn't sure if that was because of the quality of the weapon or just the general situation. Either way, the DDA guildmaster stayed his tongue. It was left to Heathcliff to actually comment. “You struck the final blow, and you were one who received the drop,” he said with a shrug. “Among the KoB, our policy is that those who receive drops keep them.”

“Anyway, it's just a sword,” Agil put in, resting his hands on the head of his axe. “What's there to fuss about, huh?”

“Glad everybody's in agreement.” With a few more deft motions, the Baneblade disappeared from Kirito's back, leaving room for the new sword. Tension immediately flowed out of his shoulders, and he turned back to his companions. “Anything else we need to do here, or can we head up and activate the teleporter on the next floor?”

Then he yelped, as Asuna grabbed him by the arm. Kizmel let out a startled sound of her own just after, finding herself dragged with her partner toward the door behind the place where Amon had made his final stand. “We can talk on the way,” the chestnut-haired girl said, in her best Vice-Commander voice. “But you're going to tell me everything you two have been up to on this floor—and then I'm going to buy everything you leave out from Argo!”

Kizmel's gaze met Kirito's, for once matching his look of alarm. “Ah, that's not really necessary, Asuna,” she began. “There really isn't much that didn't come up at the meeting earlier—”

“I'll be the judge of that!”

Chapter 10: Chapter X: Christmas Blues

Chapter Text

Chapter X: Christmas Blues

December 14th, 2023

“Ha!” Kirito's sword, the Valiant Edge, swept out to catch the Goblin Guard across the breastplate, knocking it back a pace. Before it could recover, his left arm continued the combo, cutting a deep crimson line across its throat; the goblin's HP promptly drained deep into the red, close to death.

Close, but not quite. Rallying in the precious fragments of time Kirito's skill left him immobile, the Goblin Guard regained its footing, lifted its evil-looking scimitar to its shoulder to start the bright glow of a Sword Skill of its own, and charged.

“Kirito, Switch!”

Without thinking, he ducked to the side the instant he could, allowing the figure in violet armor to speed past him, driving a Reaver straight into the goblin's throat. The monster gurgled, almost managing some kind of final curse—and slumped, shattering into pieces.

The Swordmaster Kizmel took a quick look around, alert for other enemies; finding none, she relaxed, letting her saber fall to her side. “That would seem to be all the Goblin Guards for the moment, Kirito,” she said, sheathing her blade. “Shall we break for lunch?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Kirito agreed, putting away his own weapons. “The Safe Haven should be… this way.”

The tunnels that led to the Goblin Cavern Town on the Fortieth Floor weren't the best place for clearers of their levels to grind, he reflected as they headed for the nearest Safe Haven, just outside what was considered the “dungeon” section of the tunnels. With the frontline a good seven floors above, it actually did almost nothing for their EXP. Which was exactly what made it useful to them; that, and the fact that few players seemed to know about it.

Out of the way, with a convenient safe area and enemies with low EXP but high defense: ideal for what they'd been working on since just after the conquest of the Thirty-Seventh Floor.

The safe area within the tunnels seemed to be the remains of a dwarf camp, abandoned who knew how long ago. All that remained were carved-stone seats and a table, at the edge of an underground spring. Lit by ancient torches reflecting off deposits of precious gems, it was actually a pretty nice place—for a tunnel system infested by goblins, anyway.

The two of them quickly found seats on either side of the table, stowed their weapons, and turned at once to lunch. Kirito contented himself with a simple sandwich as usual; Kizmel conjured a couple slices of pizza from her storage, still looking fascinated by the process as her latest foray into human cuisine materialized from thin air.

Two months, and it's still hard to believe she's got player privileges, Kirito mused, taking a bite from his sandwich. Well, it is a big change… This has been that kind of year.

Kizmel took an experimental bite of her own lunch, took on a thoughtful look as she chewed, and finally swallowed with apparent satisfaction. “Even after all this time, the variety of human food still amazes me,” she commented. “I feel as if I could spend years and still not find more than a tithe.”

He nodded. “There is quite a bit,” he agreed, once he'd swallowed his own latest morsel. “Even I hadn't heard of a bunch of the things I've tried in Aincrad.” One of several things that impressed him even now about SAO, really. The attention to detail Kayaba had put in was nothing short of incredible.

Of course, it was to make a better death world, he reminded himself. All this was for was making a better “story”, that's all. He needed enough variety to keep things fresh for at least a couple of years…

Conversation lapsed for a time, as they finished their respective lunches. Once they had, though, Kizmel simply leaned back in her stone chair, making no move to get up. “A year,” she mused. “It seems to have gone by so quickly—yet so much has happened, it's hard to believe sometimes that it has been only a year.”

“Yeah,” Kirito agreed. Resting his head on his hands, he slouched casually in his own seat, and glanced idly at the time display on his HUD. “Heh… it has been that long, hasn't it? A few hours, and it'll be one year to the minute since we first met in the Forest of Wavering Mists.”

“Indeed.” A small smile lit Kizmel's face, bittersweet but genuine. “I had only recently lost my sister, and had resigned myself to die fighting a Forest Elf… and you and Asuna appeared from nowhere to save my life.” The elf girl chuckled. “I confess, at first I was irritated by your interference. I thought humans had no place involving themselves in a conflict between elves.”

Remembering that she'd been just as hostile to them as the Forest Elf, before they'd chosen a side in the battle, he nodded in rueful agreement. Of course, that had seemed to be perfectly natural NPC behavior—the very last time he could remember Kizmel acting like a normal NPC. “You didn't seem to think that very long, though.”

“Your courage, and Asuna's, left its mark,” she agreed. Gaze wandering to one of the gem deposits refracting light around the cavern, she continued quietly, “Truthfully, at first I wasn't certain what to think. I had been fully expecting to die; I had not thought of what to do if I lived. Let alone how to react to being saved by two humans. Of course, by the end of that week I certainly had a much more favorable view of Swordmasters. Well, you and Asuna, at least.”

A little too favorable, Kirito had had cause to think a couple of times, that first week. She'd swiftly proven herself a strong ally, provided him with very valuable advice more than once, and bailed him out of a very tricky spot with the ALS and DKB. On the other hand, she'd also about given him a heart attack with her lack of concern for modesty—and from how she'd teased him over the months since, she knew it perfectly well.

Trying to force the memories out of his mind before SAO's emotional expression code could start the steam coming from his ears, Kirito hurriedly pressed on. “I learned a lot about elves during that week, too,” he said, turning to look at the spring in what he knew was likely a futile attempt to hide his blush. “It was nice to hang out for a while in a place where nobody knew me as the 'Beater'.”

“Not something any of my people are likely to call you, no.” She turned to look at him again, head tilted curiously. “Was that why you came to Yofel Castle so soon after you reached the Fourth Floor? I know you had not at first realized the danger you reported, but I never thought to ask why you were there in the first place.”

“Oh. That.” Kirito coughed, keeping his gaze away from hers. “Actually… we went there to see you.”

Kizmel blinked. “Me?”

Sure he was glowing in the dark by now, he could only nod. “Thing is, I remembered a human holiday too late to get Asuna anything else, so… going to Yofel Castle to see you was kind of my Christmas present for her. Not that I didn't want to see you again myself, of course!” he added hurriedly.

When she didn't reply at first, Kirito chanced a glance in her direction. To his surprise, it was her turn to blush; and if it wasn't as bright as when Argo had explained the Ethics Code to her—whatever that was—it still clearly stood out against her dusky skin.

Realizing he was looking, she quickly glanced away. “…I see. Well, I certainly can't complain. Indeed, your visit was the best present I could have asked for at the time, myself. During the war, Yofel Castle was… Well. You saw how it was.”

He had. The place had certainly been peaceful, but if anything that had chafed more for his friend. Barred by the Castle's priests even from wearing armor, for a warrior such as Kizmel it had obviously been uncomfortable.

It was her turn to cough, meeting his eyes again as her blush slowly faded. “So, what might this 'Christmas' be? I don't believe I've heard the word before.”

“Eh? Oh…” Kirito frowned, dredging up his memories of the holiday. Given the focus it usually had in Japan, it wasn't something he'd ever had much reason to pay attention to. “It's a religious celebration, from another land. In my homeland, it's… well, usually considered a day for couples.” Hurrying past that, he added, “Not always, though; there's gift-giving between friends, too. It's usually got lots of lights hung on trees, and, um… songs are traditional too, at least in some places. And fried chicken, for some reason.” He was sure there was a reason for that last one, but he couldn't for the life of him remember it.

I'm pretty sure there's another really common thing they do in the West around Christmas, but what was it? And… why do I get a sense of impending doom ala Argo, just trying to remember?

Kizmel nodded slowly, a distant look in her eyes. “I see… Actually, that sounds somewhat like my people's Yule Festival, which is also celebrated this time of year. Our traditional food is roast goat, and rather than lights on living trees we find the largest fallen trunk we can and use it at the center of a bonfire; but we, too, enjoy singing in the festival, although often accompanied by wine and ale.”

“Really?” Kirito leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “I hadn't heard about that before. When Asuna and I were at Yofel Castle last year, things didn't seem that, well, festive.”

“During the war with the Forest Elves, much was set aside,” she said softly. “I don't believe I've seen a true Yule Festival since I was a child…” The elf girl trailed off, then suddenly smiled. “With the war over, however, there will probably be one this year. Perhaps we might take some time off to visit Yofel Castle then? We might even bring Asuna with us.”

The hardcore gamer in him immediately dismissed the idea as a waste of time. After all, time spent having fun in a festival could be spent grinding his newest skill, and keeping up with clearing Aincrad so they could all go home. What was the use of anything that didn't contribute to escaping the game, after all?

But Kirito remembered the question Diavel's ghost had once asked him, and the answer he'd had to it. The way a gamer looked at Aincrad, after all—even a gamer who'd been forced into risking his real life—wasn't the way someone like Kizmel did.

“I think I'd like that,” he said, finding himself smiling back at his partner. “We might have a little trouble convincing Asuna—you know how she's been getting lately—but we all need a break here and there, and that sounds great. When is the Festival?”

“It starts on the Twenty-First, but the main event begins on the night of the Twenty-Fourth, and continues through the following day.” There was a bright, eager look in Kizmel's eyes that he found himself wishing she'd have more often. “The Yule Dance is that night, ending just at midnight.”

Kirito nodded, only absently noting the last statement. Christmas, huh… It's obviously supposed to be a stand-in for it, then. Well, works for me. Aloud, he began, “The Twenty-Fourth, huh? Well, by then we should have at least this floor cleared, and maybe the next one—”

“'Bout that, Kii-bou. Might have a bit of a problem.”

He jumped off his seat in pure reflex, hand darting up to the sword he wasn't currently wearing, before he realized who it was. “Argo?” he blurted. “What're you—?”

“Business, Kii-bou,” the hooded girl standing at the safe area's entrance replied. “Got a message for ya. He tried reachin' ya direct, but didn't know where you'd gone.”

That Argo did know was unnerving, but not too surprising. What did bother Kirito was that she'd come after them, instead of just waiting for them to reach somewhere private messages could reach. He had the unsettling feeling she had some idea of why he and Kizmel had dropped out of sight for awhile, but up to then she'd seemed willing to respect their privacy.

Which, with her, is even scarier…

Kizmel cleared her throat. “'He', Argo?”

“Klein. He'd like to meet all three of us, soon.” Argo grimaced. “Sorry to disturb your super-secret training, guys, but I got a bad feeling about this one. …Think it's got something to do with Sachi.”

Just once, I'd like to get together with him when things aren't completely crazy, Klein thought glumly, making his way through the streets of Gasraad. Built in a style his latest guild member had described as being straight out of Renaissance Italy—as seen in a game she and her old guild had played, anyway—it was the central town of the Forty-Fifth Floor. Just far enough down from the front for a nice, inconspicuous meeting. I guess our lives aren't that simple though, huh?

After weaving through the crowds of NPCs and mid-level players, the self-proclaimed samurai found his way to the small, out of the way cafe Kirito had recommended, and pushed open the doors. Inside, amid a small gathering of NPCs with odd hooded outfits, he spotted two figures that stood out—three, when he realized one of the hoods didn't belong to an NPC.

Kirito waved from the table he shared with his partner and the other girl Klein had hoped to see today. “Over here,” the Black Swordsman called, voice low but pitched to carry through the sound of the other patrons.

Klein was grateful his friend wasn't any louder, especially when he noticed there was at least one more player in the room. Hurrying past a Swordmaster in the white and red of the Knights of Blood, only barely taking notice of the singing, guitar-playing girl the Knight was listening to, he dropped carelessly into the remaining free chair at the table. “You're a sight for sore eyes, buddy,” he said honestly. “And good to see you, too, Kizmel-san,” he added, bestowing a more formal nod on the elf girl. “I heard about your quest reward from a couple months back. Congrats.”

Kizmel smiled, inclining her head in turn. “Thank you, Guildmaster Klein.”

“What, nothin' for me, 'Guildmaster'? Aren't ya happy to see me, too?” Argo the Rat tossed back her hood, took a deep gulp from the tankard in front of her, and fixed him with a mock-glare. “A girl might start to feel unappreciated, ya know.”

“That depends on how much Cor you're gonna get out of me, and for what,” Klein shot back. The fire quickly drained him, though, and his shoulders slumped. “I'll tell you this, though: you've got the right idea to have a drink handy. Excuse me!”

By the time he'd gotten the closest Aincrad had to a good, stiff drink in his hands, Kirito was looking at him with a concerned frown. “Okay, Klein,” he said, leaning forward over the table. “What's wrong? You don't usually call us up for a meeting like this.” He bit his lip, a worried look in his eyes. “Has something happened to…?”

Klein quickly shook his head. “Nah, Sachi's fine, Kirito. Don't worry about that. …Well, mostly.” He sighed, taking a long pull from his drink to buy himself a few moments. “Actually, I did call you because of Sachi-chan. Thing is… Look, you guys always know everything first, so you've probably already heard about this. The special event the NPCs have been talking about lately.”

As he'd expected, the two clearers and info broker nodded, none of them looking very happy. Not that Klein could blame them. He'd thought of several different complications, and if he'd figured out that many, he was sure they'd come up with more. Obviously no solo—or duo—would want anything to do with it, especially if the rumors about a certain sword Kirito had gotten his hands on were true; the last thing he was likely to want was more attention.

Of course, that was why he'd wanted to talk to them. He just wasn't sure which answer he'd really prefer to hear, given the potential consequences either way.

“You're talking about the event boss,” Kirito said after a moment, voice even lower than before. “Nicholas the Renegade. Defeat him, and you get everything in his sack—and with it being a once-a-year boss, it's sure to be really good drops. The kind any guild would want.”

“But that's not what you're asking about, of course.” Klein didn't know Kizmel very well, but it wasn't hard for him to see that she was at least as troubled as her partner. “I take it you have heard the rumors about what else this Nicholas is supposed to have with him.”

Her reaction could've just been because going after some poor fat guy with Christmas presents didn't make any sense to her; he still didn't know how the AI handled the idea of mobs like that. Klein had bought a fair bit of info about her from Argo, though, and had a pretty good idea of why else she might be bothered—and he couldn't blame her a bit.

“Yeah,” he confirmed unhappily. “The revival item. I know it's crazy,” he went on, when Kirito opened his mouth again. “After what Kayaba did, setting up the rules here, the idea of an item that brings back the dead has gotta be just a crazy rumor. Normally, I wouldn't even bother trying for it—taking Fuurinkazan up against an event boss might work out, but I dunno if it'd be worth it. But…”

Kirito closed his eyes, slumping back in his chair. “Sachi heard about it, didn't she.”

“…Yeah. And man, she's pretty determined to go for it.” Klein winced, remembering the look on Sachi's face when she first heard the rumors. He hoped he'd never see an expression like that again. “She told me point-blank she'd go after Nicholas solo, if she had to.”

He didn't know what it was like for someone to watch their guild be destroyed around them. If he had anything to say about it, he never would, and Sachi would never see it again. Having seen it once, though, had obviously left its mark on her, and she'd gone from being quietly determined—as she'd been since Kirito had first brought her to Fuurinkazan's guildhouse—to frighteningly single-minded.

“I know it's a long shot,” Klein continued. “I know it's crazy. But—dammit, Kirito, even if she wasn't talking about trying to fight a boss all by herself, she's one of mine! I owe her the chance, however small! So please—if you know anything at all, any weird rumor from the beta test, even…!” He bowed his head, clasping his hands together in supplication. “And Argo—any price, I'll pay it! Even for a scrap!”

For a long moment, the others were silent. Startled by his vehemence, maybe. Or maybe just laughing at me. I know the whole thing is crazy, and Kirito's got his own problems—

“Honestly, Klein, I might even give ya a discount, under the circ*mstances,” Argo said, sounding unusually serious. “But I don't charge for rumors, and that's all I got.” When Klein raised his head to look at her, she grimaced, raising one hand palm-up. “Nick's s'posed ta spawn under a fir tree at midnight, on the twenty-fourth day of the Month of Holly—Christmas Eve. That much everybody knows for sure. But nobody seems ta know which tree, what forest, which floor. And as for the revival item…” She shook her head. “I dunno if even any NPCs are talkin' 'bout that. I can't even figure out who started the rumor.”

When she'd finished, Kizmel quietly cleared her throat. “I've not heard anything else about this Nicholas myself,” she said softly, eyes downcast. “But the stories of the artifact he may be carrying… those may have come from other Swordmasters who have dealt with my people. We have legends of the 'Divine Stone of Returning Soul', which indeed is said to be able to restore life. I have never heard of it being seen in recent ages, though…”

Klein perked up, just a little. If there was one thing he had learned about things elf-related, it was that their legends tended to be pretty close to the mark where quests were concerned. If she was saying it might've existed…

“…Even if there is such a thing,” Kirito said, gaze distant, “I can't imagine that it would really work. If there was any chance players could be revived, then Kayaba lied to us—and if he did, then we'd already be out of here. Well,” he corrected himself, “I can think of maybe one way, if the—spell—just kept 'dead' players in comas, without letting them wake up… but that's not likely.”

“I know,” Klein admitted, deflating. Draining half his ale in one gulp, he continued, “I know it's a crazy idea, Kirito, but 'unlikely' isn't 'impossible'. And for something like this, that's a chance worth taking, don't ya think?”

There were shadows in Kirito's eyes, leaving the samurai wondering just how many people the so-called Beater had seen die in the year since SAO turned deadly. All he knew about was the Black Cat guild, but with how secretive Kirito could be, who really knew?

“A few months ago,” Kirito said at length, “Kizmel and I found a place that looked like it might be the start of an event. There wasn't anything about it at the time, but… it was a giant fir tree, in a forest that seems to match what the NPCs have said about Nicholas' arrival.”

“Ya sure, Kii-bou?” Argo asked sharply. “I've checked a buncha places m'self, and I just keeping finding pine trees, not fir. They're a lot alike—”

“I know the difference,” he interrupted. “We had both back—I know what each of them is like. Trust me, it's a fir tree.”

Oof. Klein hadn't heard that kind of self-correction in awhile; everybody he knew tried their best not to even think about the real world anymore. Deliberately pushing that part aside, he leaned his elbows on the table, giving the younger swordsman his most earnest expression. “If you've got a place, lay it on me. I'll even pay you for it, Kirito, you've earned that much—”

“No charge, Guildmaster Klein,” Kizmel interrupted. “We'll be glad to help.” She turned to her partner. “You're talking about the Lost Forest on the Thirty-Fifth Floor, right? With the confusing warp points, which made it more difficult to navigate than Lethe Forest?”

“Yeah, that's the place.” Kirito grimaced, but didn't dispute her instant agreement. “It's tricky, but we can show you the way, Klein. I made a map of it when we were first clearing the place. But if we are going to do this, we should take the time before Christmas Eve to do some grinding. Taking on an event boss with just us and Fuurinkazan is going to be risky, even for something twelve floors below the frontline.”

Klein breathed a sigh of deep relief, slumping in his chair. “Thanks, buddy. I mean it. If we just have this much, I can convince Sachi-chan to at least prepare with the guild, and…” He trailed off, realizing he'd missed something. “Wait a sec. You guys'll come with us?”

“We have our own stake in this,” Kizmel reminded him, looking down at the table again. “Remember… we were the ones who led the Black Cats into that dungeon.”

All of a sudden, he wasn't sure if he wanted more to give the unlikely duo a big hug, or track down Joe and roast him over an open fire. With how cheerful the two of them usually were, Klein had managed to forget just how bad off they'd been the night they showed up on his doorstep with Sachi.

Hug, he decided, seeing the look on Argo's face. The Rat has revenge handled, I think. Too bad Kirito would probably go all hedgehog on me… Wait a second! I've got an idea…

While the young swordsman and the elf were lost in their own thoughts, Klein surreptitiously brought up his menu below the table, typed up a quick message, and sent it—and was almost immediately rewarded with a smirk and a tiny nod from Argo.

With that handled, Klein shoved himself to his feet, deliberately noisy. “Okay, then,” he announced, clapping his hands to break Kirito and Kizmel out of whatever past vision they were seeing. “If we're gonna need to grind, let's go get Fuurinkazan and get to it. I've never lost a guildmate, and I'm not gonna let Nicholas break my record!”

Kizmel had only been to Fuurinkazan's guildhall once, over three months before. At the time, they'd been based on the Seventeenth Floor, in the town of Taira; now, while the guild hadn't gotten to the frontline yet, they had moved up their operations by quite a few floors, and currently made their home on the Thirty-Third.

Even so, it felt much the same as she accompanied Kirito and Klein to the guild's new home. The central town on the Thirty-Third Floor, Masashi, followed much the same aesthetic as Taira, and Fuurinkazan's guildhouse was another pagoda-style building.

A little larger than the old, Kizmel judged, following Klein inside. Though not much… And I'm distracting myself from the real issue, of course.

It wasn't just Fuurinkazan's guildhouse she hadn't seen in over three months, she reflected on entering the building's meeting room. She hadn't seen the guild members since then, either—and not entirely by chance. She lacked her partner's history with Klein, but she had her own reasons to feel guilty.

Fuurinkazan as a whole didn't seem to agree, though. Seated around a low table in the center of the room, the eclectic group of samurai greeted their leader's guests cheerfully enough. Heavy-set Dale waved, and the mustachioed Dynamm—whom she remembered Kirito comparing to a pirate, for reasons she wasn't quite clear on—actually grinned. “Kirito, Kizmel,” he called. “'Bout time Leader dragged you guys back here again.”

“Nice to see you, too, Dynamm,” Kirito replied, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Ah… I guess we'll be in your care for a little while.”

“More like we'll be in yours,” Issin—a man Kizmel had always thought looked oddly gaunt—told him, shaking his head. “Honestly, any info you can give us, we'll be glad for. This one has us stumped…”

It wasn't the original six of Fuurinkazan that had Kizmel's attention, though. Her attention was quickly drawn to the one girl in the guild, seated between Issin and Kunimittz, whom the other members seemed subtly protective of. The last time the elf had seen her, she'd worn mostly blue, her armor a style much like that favored by the DDA and KoB. At that time, she'd also been very obviously in shock, and for good reason.

Now Sachi, last survivor of the Moonlit Black Cats, wore the red lacquered armor Fuurinkazan preferred, topped by a cape not so different from Kizmel's Mistmoon Cloak. She no longer looked nearly so lost as she had three months, but she didn't look very happy, either. There was an intense, focused look in her dark eyes, one which made Kizmel a little uneasy.

“Hello, Sachi,” she said after a moment, offering a tentative smile. “It's been some time.”

“I guess it has. I'm glad to see you again, Kizmel.” To the elf's relief, Sachi's expression eased up just a bit. Not as much as she'd have liked, but a bit. “I'm sorry I haven't been in touch, but…”

“I understand.” Kizmel remembered very well her own feelings after the destruction of the Black Cat guild; more, she remembered how she herself had been in the wake of her sister's death. And Tilnel, at least, did not die by treachery.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Sachi shook herself. “I heard about you getting player status, by the way. Congratulations. And, Kirito…” She turned to the young Swordmaster, who was having difficulty even looking in her direction. “It's good to see you, too.”

“…Likewise,” Kirito managed, voice barely more than a whisper. “I'm glad you're doing okay, Sachi.”

“'Course she is!” Klein clapped him on the shoulder, boisterous voice dispelling the gloom that had begun to gather. “You asked us to take care of her, and that's what we've done. Don't worry about a thing, buddy. Now c'mon, everybody sit down, and let's talk!”

Klein really was more perceptive than he looked, Kizmel thought as they all settled around the table. He might indeed have been a somewhat comical sort by nature, but he obviously knew how to use that to keep up morale. An underrated skill, in her opinion, and one that more of her own people could stand to learn.

It didn't seem to lift Sachi's spirits any, but Kizmel suspected nothing was going to change that girl's mood until the matter of Nicholas the Renegade had been settled, one way or another.

From his position at the head of the table, somehow managing to look almost like a true, serious leader of warriors, Klein cleared his throat. “Alright, guys, here's the deal. If you can believe it, the Rat didn't have anything to sell me about Nicholas, but our ol' buddy Kirito and his partner did. Kirito?”

Attention turned to Kizmel's partner, and as usual he obviously wished it hadn't. He coughed, giving himself a moment to gather his thoughts. “Well, this isn't exactly solid,” he began. “Otherwise I'd have sold it Argo as soon as the NPCs started talking about Nicholas. But… if I'm right, Kizmel and I found where the boss is supposed to appear. We don't know anything about what the fight is supposed to be like,” he added quickly, “but if it's where I think it will be, it should be possible for us to beat by ourselves, if we're careful.”

“It's not on the frontlines, then?” Harry One asked, looking intent.

“Two floors above where we are right now,” Kirito said, nodding. “I don't know what kind of levels Klein's gotten you all to, but if you're doing any hunting above that… I won't say it won't be risky, but it's doable.”

“It'll be fine, Kirito,” Klein assured him, doing his obvious best to look calm and serene as he folded his arms above crossed legs. Personally, Kizmel thought he was trying too hard, but that lent its own effect to his efforts. “I agree that we oughtta do some more grinding while we've got the time, but as it is, we're about a month or so away from joining the clearing group ourselves.”

The declaration surprised Kizmel. Partly because he'd made such a direct statement about his and his guildmates' levels, amid the Swordmaster culture of secrecy, and partly at the idea that they really had gotten that strong. The last group she knew of that had attempted to climb from mid-level to clearing…

As if following her train of thought, Sachi spoke up next, her earlier warmth vanished again. “What about the revival item?” she asked, leaning over the table, eyes dark. “Do you know anything about it?”

It was Kizmel's turn to clear her throat. “There are very old tales among my people, yes,” she said. “I fear I can't tell you much, however…”

When she'd gone over what she did know, Sachi leaned back again, visibly disappointed. “…That's still a lead, though,” she murmured, apparently to herself. “Thank you, Kizmel. Um… are you two…?”

“We'll be going with you,” Kirito said, not quite looking her in the eye. “It's a long shot, but it's one worth trying. And I… wouldn't be able to forgive myself if something went wrong. After what already happened once, when I tried to help out…”

“That's not gonna happen again, Kirito,” Klein said firmly. “We're all gonna be careful, and we're all stronger than your friends were back then. And we're gonna get stronger still.” He swept his gaze over the assembled Swordmasters, this time looking every bit the warrior he styled himself as. “We've got ten days until Nicholas the Renegade is supposed to show up. We're going to use every one of them. No days off 'til Christmas, got it?”

“Slave driver,” Dynamm grumbled. He was grinning, though. “So. Where to, Leader? The usual place on the Forty-Fifth?”

“Not this time. That's one thing I did buy from Argo: info on a good training spot on the Forty-Sixth.” Klein pushed himself to his feet. “Time to hunt some acid-spitting Giant Ants!”

There were mock-groans all around, except from the once again silent Sachi. From Kirito and Kizmel, though, the sound was much more sincere—and Kizmel suspected there was an additional reason for Sachi's silence, as well. Acid-spitting giant insects were nothing new to them; they'd fought similar preying mantises during the attempt to bring the Black Cats to clearing level.

It's not the same as back then, she reminded herself, discreetly putting a reassuring hand on Kirito's arm. Klein is even more careful than Keita ever was, and his guild has been together longer. This won't be like those days.

And a few bad memories coming back will be worth it for the closure this may bring, whether the Divine Stone really exists or not.

It was getting late by the time they began battling oversized insects, just one floor below the frontlines, but Kirito hardly noticed. From the earliest days in SAO, he'd been accustomed to fighting long into the night, or starting before dawn; sleep was something he gave into when he had to, more than according to any normal schedule. That was how it was for anyone, really, who was trying to stay ahead of the level curve and stay alive in this game of death.

That timing turned out to be just as well, anyway. The snowfield on the western edge of the Forty-Sixth Floor, bordered by a cliff honeycombed with ant tunnels, was known to plenty of other high-level players, to the extent that a schedule had actually been arranged around the respawning of the Giant Ants. Fuurinkazan arrived just a few minutes before another group finished, leaving the next batch free for them.

With the irregular number of players they had on hand, they'd set up a party rotation before setting out. It left Kirito sitting out the first round, hanging back with Klein; to his concern, while Sachi was also out of the party itself, she was still participating. It didn't take him long to understand why, though, and it certainly impressed him.

Honestly, watching as Issin and Kunimittz used their polearm weapons to keep two of the Giant Ants at bay while their sword-wielding comrades took them from the flanks, Kirito felt a little embarrassed. The Reaver Dynamm unleashed against one of them, catching it just under one scythe-like arm, was textbook, reminding him of when Klein had performed that exact attack as his first Sword Skill. Harry One's followup, smashing the ant's arm off with his mace, was perfectly coordinated.

Klein really did use what I taught him that day, Kirito thought, taking note as Kizmel timed a Diagonal Sting on the other to give Dale an opening for a leaping Avalanche. It's weird, seeing them fight just like that. Maybe… maybe I didn't screw up everything, after all. Not quite.

There was a brief moment where it seemed like they'd miscalculated, a third Giant Ant having snuck up to spit acid at Issin's back while he was recovering from a Straight Thrust he'd just used to force back the first. Just as it opened its mouth, though, the ant abruptly stumbled to the side, a crimson line etching itself deeply into its flank. There was a flutter of cloth, accompanied by three more slashes to complete the Horizontal Square, and with a screech the oversized bug tumbled to the snowy ground.

The post-motion from the Sword Skill finished before the ant could right itself, and Sachi renewed her attack at once. Targeting a fallen enemy could be tricky, given the nature of Sword Skills, but she managed the angle for a modified Vertical Square smoothly enough, tracing the four slashes across the ant's torso with vicious speed and power.

It did manage to throw itself back to its feet after that, in a convulsing movement Kirito couldn't quite describe. The Giant Ant's health was down pretty far, though, and by the time it had turned to try and spit acid in retaliation, Sachi had vanished completely. It was left standing motionless in confusion, its AI as befuddled as if by an ordinary Switch.

Kirito shivered. He remembered when Sachi had gotten the Nightcloak, but back in the days of the Moonlit Black Cats, he didn't remember seeing her use it much. Aside from the time she'd hidden away from the rest of the guild, for reasons he'd never quite learned, as far as he knew she'd kept the invisibility-granting cape in storage.

Now, she'd developed an entire fighting style around it. He wasn't sure how well it would work in a boss fight, but obviously it had its uses against basic mobs.

“Kinda spooky, I know,” Klein said quietly. The red samurai stood next to him, arms folded, watching his guild train. “I've never seen anything like it. 'Course, I don't know of anybody else even having a cloak like that, but still. Any player with a brain knows better than to go in for a fair fight, but Sachi-chan's in a class by herself: always looking for a little bit more of an edge, like the biggest min-maxer you ever saw. When she figured out how to use that in a fight…”

Kirito nodded. Kizmel's cloak couldn't be used that way, especially given it only provided true invisibility at night, but he could certainly see the advantages of one that could. It made him nervous, though, and for more reasons than one. Since as far as he remembered the quest Sachi had gotten the Nightcloak from hadn't been unique, just hard to find, it was entirely possible other, nastier people had them. Besides which…

“How many people know about that?” he asked, under the cover of the first Giant Ant shattering noisily. “What Sachi can do with it?”

From the grimace on Klein's face, the guildmaster got the point. “We've tried to keep it under wraps,” he admitted. “But… there've been a couple of close calls.” He sighed, breath steaming in the winter air. “This one time, we got followed back to town, and some mid-levels got nasty. Called Sachi-chan a 'Beater' to her face.”

Kirito flinched, remembering vividly the last time he'd been called that.

“Yeah, I know, you'd take that like a champ, then go disappear for a couple months.” Klein glared balefully ahead, as if his anger could push back the glob of acid that singed Dynamm's hair. “Sachi-chan, though… she doesn't take that kind of thing lying down. Dunno how she was with the Black Cats, but with us she's always been real quiet, even before this came up—but if somebody starts throwing 'Beater' around, she gets mad.”

Conversation paused for a moment as Sachi herself suddenly appeared again, batting aside a glob of acid with her shield. Her timing was off just enough for the other Giant Ant to nick her right side; despite that, she drove her blade firmly into her target's thorax. It reared back, giving Dale a chance to lop its head off with his heavy blade, while Kizmel punished the one that had hurt Sachi.

Klein took a moment to look over the attack, a clinical look on his face. After an approving nod, though, the concern was back in full force. “She handled it—with a couple of bumps and bruises all around. Some people still don't like it, but… we're usually left alone. …Maybe a little too much.”

Something about that struck Kirito as more than a little ominous. Giving Klein a sidelong look, wondering if he really wanted to know, he asked anyway: “What's that supposed to mean?”

“That Keita guy… He still won't talk to her. At all.”

Off to the side, another party had arrived—a small group from the DDA, Kirito noticed absently, to judge from the armor—but the only thing he could focus on was the ball of ice that was starting to form in his gut. “He won't even talk to Sachi? I knew he… didn't take things well… but I never thought…”

“Don't think she did either. Sure as hell isn't how I'd have done things, if something like that had happened to Fuurinkazan.” Klein was glaring again; Kirito was pretty sure it had nothing to do with the extra set of Giant Ants that had just charged out of the tunnel mouth. “It was about a week before we started hearing about Nicholas when I finally got out of her that her buddy wasn't answering messages. He's still on her friends list, so she knew he wasn't dead, but he wasn't saying a word.”

Keita. The last time Kirito had seen the Black Cats' young guildmaster, Keita had used a teleport crystal to retreat to the very first floor—after knocking Kirito flat on his back and leaving him with an indictment that still haunted him. It wasn't surprising that he hadn't come up again, but for him to have even stopped messaging the only other survivor of the guild…

“I took that kind of personally,” Klein went on after a moment. “Sachi-chan's one of mine, now, and I take care of my own. So I got the guys to keep her busy, and I went down to the City of Beginnings myself to go see what the hell was wrong with him.”

Kirito swallowed hard. “I… can't imagine that went well.”

“Not really.” The samurai's jaw clenched, one hand moving as if on its own to the hilt of his katana. “I found him, all right, wandering the streets like a damn zombie. Now, I've seen my share of bad stuff in Aincrad, and I know about trauma, but—dammit, it's not right!” Klein shook his head angrily. “I told him I was Sachi-chan's new guildmaster, and that she was worried about him. And you know what he said?”

I don't think I want to. “What?”

“He got this look on his face—like I was some kinda Astral monster—and asked me if you'd introduced me to her..” Klein let out a breath in a hiss through his teeth. “Then he told me to go to hell, and stormed off. Didn't even ask how Sachi-chan was doing.”

Keita… Kirito closed his eyes, suddenly no longer surprised. Angry for Sachi's sake, but no more than resigned at how Keita had reacted to Klein. “…What did you tell Sachi?”

“Not a damn thing, of course. I didn't even tell her I'd gone to see the guy. But… I think she figured it out anyway.” On the battlefield in front of them, Harry One and Kunimittz trapped the last ant between their weapons, holding it in place; it got out a glob of acidic goo in return, landing on Kunimittz's shoulder with a loud sizzle, but was unable to do much else but struggle.

Before it could free itself, Sachi tossed back her cloak again, and together with Kizmel tore into it with her blade. She carved the figure-four of a Savage Fulcrum into its thorax, while the elf spun into a Treble Scythe that ended with a brutal slash across its compound eyes.

“She was even worse after that,” Klein said as the Giant Ant shattered, his voice barely audible even to Kirito's ears now. “'Til we heard about Nicholas. Since then… well, you can see for yourself. I think she's doing this for Keita, as much as herself.” He snorted bitterly. “After what he did to her, I say he doesn't deserve it. But if she's gonna do it, we're right with her.”

“Hey, you guys, let somebody else in there, will ya? Other people need some EXP too, y'know!”

Klein spared the DDA party leader a rude gesture, but motioned for Fuurinkazan to pull back anyway. “I really appreciate this, Kirito,” he said as the others came back toward them. “If you hadn't told us where to look for the boss, well…”

“This is still probably going to come to nothing, Klein,” Kirito reminded him, looking away. “I can't believe there's really a revival item. Even so… Kizmel and I owe Sachi a lot. And Keita… and the others. This is something we have to do, after what we did to them—”

He was cut off by a cuff to the back of his head. “You start getting suicidal on me, I'm locking you in a room with Kizmel-san and Argo,” Klein warned him. “I dunno what would happen, but I bet it'd distract you real fast.” Still several meters off, Kizmel twitched and blushed; Klein seemed to notice, and after a quick grin lowered his voice further. “Whatever you think is your fault, you're the only reason some of us have lived this long, moron. Don't forget that.”

December 24th, 2023

The ten days spent training with Fuurinkazan reminded Kizmel painfully of the months she and Kirito had worked with the Black Cats. It was, after all, the only time other than when they'd helped the doomed the guild that they had spent any notable time with other clearers. It was inevitable that the memories would be brought to the surface.

Especially with Sachi herself as a member of both groups.

Yet as they all prepared in Fuurinkazan's guildhall, the evening the battle they'd been training for finally arrived, Kizmel realized it was different. Much like the Black Cats, Klein's guild was cheerful and optimistic; unlike Keita's group, though, every action they took was tempered with caution, an understanding of just how easily any of them could fall if they made the slightest misstep.

Even Keita was willing to take risks we would not have, she reflected, bringing up her menu to equip her armor and weapons. Most of her gear had changed much since her days as a Pagoda Knight, replaced with better items located on higher floors; now, regretfully, she replaced even her beloved Mistmoon Cloak with a heavier, fur-lined cape more suited for the colder weather. Klein listens to Kirito—and his people to him.

They are not the children the Black Cats were.

Granted, Kizmel had heard Kirito refer to himself as such, but as she watched her partner switch out his usual longcoat for a fur-collared version, she couldn't think of him that way. He might have had difficulty in social situations, but the grim expression on his face now, the certitude with which he checked his Valiant Edge, showed his maturity.

A maturity she often thought was greater than Klein's—though at this moment, the red samurai was actually looking appropriately solemn himself. Standing at the front of the gathering in the guildhall's meeting room, he looked them all over—from guests Kizmel and Kirito to his own red-armored warriors, including the quiet, focused Sachi—with a critical air, before nodding in satisfaction.

“Okay,” Klein said quietly. “We've had ten days to get ready for this. We're twenty-five levels above the floor level the boss is supposed to be—thirty-five for some of us, and someday I'm gonna figure out how you two did it—and we've got all the info there is on the boss—”

“Which isn't much,” Dynamm put in laconically.

The guildmaster glared at him, but without heat; the comment fractured the dark mood that was starting to gather. “Maybe it isn't, but we've got a massive level advantage, nine people, and a map right to where Nicholas should be showing up. We can do this. But,” he added, raising a cautioning finger, “that doesn't mean we're going to let down our guard, got it? We're gonna do this smart, and careful, and whatever loot we get from this, we're all coming back in one piece. All of us.”

From the way he spoke of Kirito sometimes, Kizmel might've thought that last directed at her partner specifically. Instead, all eyes turned to Sachi. The former Black Cat had said nothing since beginning the evening's preparations, and precious little over the ten days of training; now, she met the scrutiny calmly. Almost apathetically, Kizmel thought.

But not weakly. “I won't die, Klein,” she said, quiet but firm. “No matter what, I won't die here.”

He watched her for a long moment—as did Kirito, Kizmel noticed without surprise—before nodding again, more slowly this time. “You better not. I don't want any martyrs here, Sachi-chan.” Abruptly, he clapped his hands. “Okay, then. Let's move out, kill that boss, and get home. Kirito and Kizmel-san promised me there's a Christmas party coming, and I don't want to miss it!”

Kizmel leaned over to whisper in Kirito's ear. “Were you able to discuss things with Guildmaster Heathcliff?”

He nodded fractionally. “It's fine. Asuna will be waiting for us in Rovia tomorrow morning.”

“…Does she know that?”

Despite the situation, Kirito grinned. “Not yet.”

After assembling into two parties—most of Fuurinkazan in one, Sachi and Harry One joining the clearing duo to round out a slightly smaller group—they set off into Masashi, heading for the Teleport Plaza. The banter that had gone on in the guildhall lapsed once they were out in the cold winter air, leaving Kizmel alone with her thoughts.

Their group was quite a contrast to the residents of Masashi and the other visiting Swordmasters, she noticed. Where they had a purpose that evening, a solemn and serious one at that, those around them were as cheerful as any Swordmasters Kizmel had ever seen. Instead of the usual habits of those pressing forward to clear Aincrad, tonight these people were enjoying the “Christmas” holiday Kirito had told her of, eating and talking amongst themselves; even some of the KoB, a group she normally associated with dedication to duty, were taking the night off.

By contrast, oddly, she saw no sign at all of the Divine Dragons Alliance. Of course, knowing Lind it was entirely likely they were taking the time to try and upstage the KoB again. They had grown ever harsher since the days Kizmel had first encountered them; back then, from what Kirito had told her, they'd been as eager as anyone to celebrate a holiday.

As they passed one such gathering in a small park, centered around a girl in a cape and large hat plucking at a guitar, Kizmel felt a pang of homesickness. Among the listeners were a pair of Swordmasters, one of them a girl with tanned skin, resting her head on the shoulder of a young man with a tamed Dagger Wolf by his side; though neither of them really resembled her sister or brother-in-law that closely, the pose still reminded her painfully of times long gone.

Those who are mourned will never return, she reminded herself, deliberately turning away from the tableau. The hands of time cannot be turned back… no matter how much we might wish it.

Glancing briefly at Kirito, then Sachi—both of whom were silent, faces darkly shadowed—she was startled to feel a hand land on her shoulder. “Oi. You okay there, Kizmel-san?”

Looking up quickly, Kizmel found Klein gazing back at her, a look of faint concern on his face. “Ah, it's nothing,” she said after a moment. “Just… old memories.”

“About your sister, right?” he said knowingly. “I heard a little bit about that.” The guildmaster glanced briefly at Sachi, then spoke again, voice barely audible even to her elven ears. “That item we're after… that's what you're really thinking about, isn't it?”

He really was more perceptive than his “mountain bandit” look tended to suggest. “It crossed my mind,” she murmured unwillingly. “If there were any way at all to bring her back… But even were it possible, I don't see how I could bring myself to use it. After all…”

Klein nodded, a flicker of darkness in his eyes. “You can only use it once—and we've all got people we'd like to bring back, don't we?” He cracked a tiny smile at her look of surprise. “Hey, Fuurinkazan hasn't lost anybody, but I've had friends outside the guild. Not all of 'em have made it.” He looked toward Sachi again. “Three dead from that guild, right? …Even if this works, I'm afraid of what it's going to do to her. Having to choose which one to bring back.”

Yes. That was exactly what Kizmel had been thinking about, in the end. She longed to bring Tilnel back, yet how could she choose her sister over anyone else? Her sister's husband had followed her into death not long after, as had many others over the course of the war with the Forest and Dark Elves. Such a choice was impossible for her to make and live with.

“Yet you're still willing to help Sachi do this?” She felt she knew the answer, but asked anyway.

“Whether we help or not, she's doing this. She's made her choice, and I can either respect that and stand back, or respect it and help her through the fallout. What do you think I'm gonna do? Besides…” Klein's eyes drifted to the other loner of the group. “I've got debts of my own to pay back. Thanks for helping with that, by the way.”

The Teleport Plaza only about a street away now, Kizmel looked at him in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“C'mon, you know how Kirito is. He really needs a keeper, y'know? Somebody to watch his back, make sure he doesn't do something totally insane and get himself killed.” He shook his head, still watching Kirito's back. “Make sure he doesn't go completely crazy. When I heard his partner left him, I was worried. Bad as things were when the Black Cats broke up, I was glad when he showed up with you.”

Now she looked away, feeling a flush growing. “The timing was pure coincidence. Surely you could've filled the gap well enough…”

“He wouldn't have let me, and I think you know it. And he—” Klein broke off, noticing they were just at the Plaza. “I'll tell ya later. But thanks, really.” He raised his voice. “Okay, guys, this is it. Let's go to the Thirty-Fifth Floor and get this done.”

A brief cheer from most of Fuurinkazan and a shared glance between Kirito and Kizmel later, and the nine disappeared in a flash of blue light.

It had been months since the Thirty-Fifth Floor had been the frontline—in fact, it had been cleared not long after the Black Cats' encounter with The Commandant—but Kirito remembered its layout pretty well. What he didn't remember, his map mostly supplemented; and what that didn't quite cover, the notes he'd taken back then did.

Taking the lead in the Lost Forest, thus, wasn't a problem in terms of finding his way around. Knowing where to go was easy. It was what lay at the end of it that had him worried. Not the boss fight, really—for all his words of caution, nine players at their levels would likely be more than enough—but what came after.

One thing at a time, Kirito told himself, running without hesitation from one invisible teleporter to another, his partner and Fuurinkazan following close behind. Beat the boss first. It's not likely to even have that item anyway…

He wasn't sure if he hoped it did or not. Either way, the guilt he'd tried so hard to push aside for months was heavy on his shoulders again.

After an hour of tireless sprinting through the maze of fir trees, their deadline of midnight fast approaching, Kirito finally skidded to a halt in the snow in one last unremarkable clearing. After taking a moment to steel himself, he turned to face the rest of the group: Kizmel and Klein looking supportive, most of the rest of Fuurinkazan cheerful but cautious, Sachi unnervingly calm.

“This is it,” he announced, projecting a cool confidence he didn't really feel. “Just ahead is a teleport to the giant fir tree. If I'm right, Nicholas the Renegade will be spawning in…” He paused to check his time display. “Ten minutes. If we want to turn back, now is the time.”

“No.” Somewhat to his surprise, it was Sachi who spoke first, a hard look in her eyes. “I'm not turning back, Kirito. Not now.”

A moment of silence followed, before Klein cleared his throat. Resting a hand on the hilt of his katana, he stepped forward, an easy grin on his face. “You heard the lady, Kirito. We're gonna do this thing. So let's just—”

The hissing sound of a teleport cut him off, and after a brief instant of startled paralysis the group turned almost as one to look back the way they'd come. Who would even think of coming here?! I thought I was the only one who'd figured out the clues, and Argo wouldn't have sold—

Over a dozen players materialized in quick succession, wearing very familiar armor. Familiar enough to make Kirito grind his teeth, especially when he saw the long blue hair on the group's leader, and the distinctive scimitar he wore at his side, shield slung over his back.

“The DDA?” Klein hissed, right hand going to the hilt of his sword. “What the hell are they doing here?!”

“Good question,” Kirito replied grimly, as their own group formed around them. “Lind!” he called. “I was wondering why I hadn't seen any Dragon Knights around lately. What are you doing here?”

“If you're here, then I think you already know the answer to that, Kirito,” Lind replied coolly. He hadn't gone for his weapon, but some of his subordinates were clearly thinking about it. His own expression was as hard as Kirito had ever seen it. “The revival item is something anyone would value—and I'm sure the boss that carries it wouldn't be an easy one.”

Klein scoffed. “You're not suggesting we work together for it, are you?”

“Why not? You run a guild of your own, Klein, surely you understand this better than Kirito. How cautious we have to be in this world—and how precious resources are.” Lind shook his head. “This is something too big to be left to any individual—or small group—to deal with as they wish. We all have friends, loved ones we've lost to this twisted game.”

And who would you choose, Lind? Kirito wondered. Naga? Or maybe even Diavel… None of the members he'd once worked with to kill a Floor Boss in the smallest-ever boss raid were here, he noticed; he wondered, too, if that had any significance.

Even if he'd been inclined to ask, though, someone else beat him to it. “If we do it that way, there's no point!” Sachi declared, yanking her sword out. “I need that stone!”

“You're being unreasonable, Sachi-san,” Lind retorted, expression hard. “I have been patient with your friend Kirito in the past, but this is something there can be no negotiation on. If the Divine Stone of Returning Soul is real, then the only fair way to handle it is by group discussion. If there's any chance at all of bringing back anyone who fell here—”

No negotiation. Kirito could tell that he meant it, and the way the DDA members were looking—as if they were not just willing, but eager to draw their weapons—suddenly made him very nervous about just how far they were willing to push it.

Given the look on Sachi's face when he glanced her way, he was at least as nervous about how far she was willing to go.

“No,” Sachi said, glaring at the DDA leader. “I won't let you do this. I won't let you take this chance from me!”

Lind's hands tightened into fists. “Sachi-san, with all due respect, you're not in any position to make such a statement. As good as some of you may be, the DDA has the advantage here. And as we're running short on time, I'd really suggest you be reasonable.”

Kirito swallowed, exchanging a quick look with Klein. This is bad. If he's really willing to go orange over an item that probably doesn't even exist… and he's right, there isn't time for this—

“No negotiation. Be reasonable.” Abruptly, Kizmel stepped out in front of the group, hand on the hilt of her saber. “It's interesting, Lind, that 'reasonable' with you always seems to mean doing things your way.” She looked back over her shoulder. “Everyone else, get moving. I'll hold them off.”

“By yourself?” For the first time, Lind focused on her directly, eyes widening incredulously. Yet Kirito thought there was also just a trace of anxiety there; remembering, maybe, just how strong Kizmel had been when first they met. “Lady Kizmel, that is an unreasonable—”

Once again, he was cut off, this time by Klein moving to Kizmel's side. “Not quite alone, big guy. Some of us still know what Bushido is, y'know?” He turned back to the others. “Go! There's no time!”

Kirito wanted to protest. Probably would have, actually, except the next thing he saw was a blue flash in the corner of his eye, accompanied by the hiss of a teleport. Sachi had already gone through, and she was quickly followed by the rest of Fuurinkazan.

Paralyzed for one endless moment, he locked gazes with Kizmel—who gave a slow nod, and a warm smile. Wordlessly, she mouthed, “I'll see you soon.”

Ice forming in his gut, Kirito whirled and followed Sachi through the warp point.

Unlike Kirito, Sachi had no personal experience with fir trees, but she had enough knowledge of Western Christmas traditions to recognize one on sight anyway. When she and her companions emerged from the final warp point, she knew at once that the giant tree that awaited them was exactly what she'd been looking for.

There was nothing there yet besides the tree, but Sachi knew it was the right place anyway. It was only a matter of time.

Just a little longer, guys. Just a little longer, and… I'll have it. Pulling her Nightcloak over herself, she settled in to wait.

Some of the others weren't so patient. They all drew weapons, and Dale looked around uncertainly. “…There's nothing here, guys. You sure this is the right place?”

“It's still five minutes to midnight,” Kirito said, voice low and tight. When Sachi glanced over at him, she saw him half-crouched, sword held in a ready stance. His expression was as tense as she suspected her own to be. “Nicholas is supposed to show on the hour, remember. Be ready.”

Sachi was. Ever since she'd heard the rumors about the Divine Stone of Returning Soul, she'd been getting ready, fully prepared to go it alone if she had to. Though she was grateful she didn't; nothing would be gained if she died here.

I've been the one left behind before, she thought. I won't do that to my family. She glanced again at Kirito, who was obviously growing more tense by the second. I won't do that to anyone. I have to live to the end of this world. Her hand clenched on the hilt of her sword. And if I have anything to say about it, I'm bringing at least one more person back with me!

The five minutes remaining until midnight seemed both endless, giving her own tension time to build ever higher, and brief as an instant. Five minutes of no sound but the wind, no motion but tree branches swaying in that wind and snow softly falling from above. Five minutes of hoping her guildmaster and her friend were all right, holding off so many DDA players…

Then Sachi heard it. A jingling of bells somewhere above, quiet at first but quickly growing louder. Snapping her head up to look, she spotted the first contrails she'd seen in the year she'd been trapped in Sword Art Online, behind the faint shape of a sleigh flying just below the disc of the floor above.

“Here it comes,” Kirito breathed. “Get ready…”

From the back of the sleigh, a figure suddenly dropped, plummeting down to slam hard into the ground right in front of the giant fir tree. Snow was blown into the air by the impact, very briefly obscuring it; when it had dispersed again, Sachi finally got a good look at the thing she was determined to kill for the sake of her friends.

“Should've figured,” Dynamm remarked, staring. “The Santa Claus from hell.”

[Nicholas the Renegade] really did look like an evil Santa, Sachi thought distantly. Clad in a red suit with matching hat, a long gray beard, carrying a heavy sack on his back—but everything else screamed “monster”, from his towering six-meter height and over-long arms to his wild eyes, capped off by an axe held high in his right hand.

“It's time,” Kirito said, beginning to step forward. “Let's do this like we planned, and—”

Nicholas' madly-rolling eyes suddenly fixed on Sachi, completely ignoring the Hiding effect of her Nightcloak. Turning his head toward her, he opened his mouth, uttering a sound like warping metal—and something in Sachi finally snapped.

Throwing the cape off, she gripped sword and shield in hand and charged, screaming a wordless battlecry as she rushed through the snow to her enemy. In that moment, nothing mattered to her, nothing but killing this twisted parody of a human and gaining the spoils to bring back someone real.

“Sachi—! Dammit, after her! Make sure she doesn't hold all the aggro!”

Sachi barely noticed Kirito's protest. All she saw was Nicholas' mad gaze, all she heard was the glitched sound clips he roared at her. Sumika, Tetsuo, Sasamaru, Ducker… this is for you!

“Die!”

Seldom had Lind ever bothered to give Kizmel his full attention, in her experience. Of all the Swordmasters with the clearing group when she rejoined Kirito, he was the one who seemed to cling most stubbornly to the idea that she was merely a figment of a deadly dream; he only ever seemed to address her in the context of his condescension toward her partner.

Now, though, he really was looking at her, and obviously wasn't happy about it. He was even ignoring Klein for now, something she found darkly amusing under the circ*mstances. “Lady Kizmel,” the DDA guildmaster began, “you have to realize there's no point in this. The two of you haven't the strength to keep back my men, especially with yours gone on.”

“That's true,” she replied evenly, holding her saber at guard between them. “But we can make sure you cannot pass without force—and are you truly willing to risk that? Klein and I are still green. Whoever strikes first will face consequences.”

“Oh, yeah, like we're going to worry about hitting an NPC.” One of the other DDA members, one she only vaguely recognized from Pillar Guardian raids, scoffed. “We can just go right through, Guildmaster, why waste our time—”

“She has player privileges, Quet,” Lind interrupted, expression tightening further. “She's right about that. But, Lady Kizmel,” he went on, “the same holds true for you, doesn't it? In trying to pass you, we risk going orange, but if you want to stop us, you'll face the same problem.”

Kizmel only smiled at that. “True enough, Lind, but you forget—Kirito and I are independents. A few days waiting to return to green will be little trouble for us.”

She let him digest that for a moment, and her smile widened at the grimace that followed. After all the times he'd badgered her partner about joining a guild, he had to know that truth as well as she did. Although, she thought with grim amusem*nt, it's even less an issue than he might think. We might be barred from human towns for that time, but my people will care little for disputes among mankind.

“This is nuts, Guildmaster,” Quet said irritably, breaking the brief silence. “So one or two of us have to find a Safe Haven to camp out for a couple days. Isn't the revival item worth the risk? Let's just bust through and do it!”

Kizmel actually had to give Lind some credit: he didn't seem very happy by that idea, either. Even so, he slowly nodded. “Quetzalcoatl is right, I'm afraid. I would really prefer not to do this, but this is simply too important for us to walk away—”

“Hey, can somebody make a suggestion that doesn't involve risking a PK incident?” Klein demanded. “Important, yeah, I got that, but let's not be getting crazy here!” He glared at Quetzalcoatl for several moments, then switched to Lind. “You can't just let this go. Y'know what, I get that. We've got our own reasons for this. But none of us really wanna risk getting anybody killed, do we?”

Several of the Dragon Knights shifted uncomfortably. Lind himself only stared at Klein, before slowly nodding, some of the tension easing out of his shoulders. “That's true enough,” he acknowledged. “That would run counter to our very purpose here, after all. You have a suggestion, Klein?”

“An honorable duel,” Klein answered, drawing himself up to look every bit the samurai, rather than the mountain bandit. “You and one of your guys, against me and Kizmel-san. Half-Loss—basic skills only, we don't want to risk a Duel PK, do we?”

A duel… Kizmel found herself nodding, while Lind frowned pensively. That would keep them busy long enough, and save face for all sides. Of course, that presupposes our victory—but that is hardly a worthwhile question, is it?

“Oh, come on,” Quetzalcoatl complained, kicking at the snow in obvious annoyance. “Like we should waste our time like that when we've got numbers on our side—”

“Speaking of wasting time,” Klein interrupted, smiling tightly. “We do this the hard way, you'll be wasting time while Kirito and my guys finish the boss. You win a duel fast enough, we get out of your way without any more fuss. So which is it gonna be? Quick and honorable, or slow and dirty?”

After another long pause, while most of the Dragon Knights—especially the belligerent Quetzalcoatl—glared, Lind finally nodded. “Very well. If that's how it has to be… I accept the challenge. I will face Lady Kizmel, then, and Orochi will be your opponent, Klein. If there's no objection?”

“None,” Kizmel replied, before Klein could say anything. Smiling coolly at the Dragon Knight commander, she said, “I would not have it any other way.”

The axe came down hard, almost cutting her in half from the top of her head down, but Sachi had seen it coming. She was two steps to the right before it impacted, avoiding the blade itself—only to find herself thrown from her feet by the shockwave anyway, tumbling farther to the side amid the spray of snow.

She heard Kirito yell in anger, followed by the sound of his sword clashing against Nicholas' axe. A collective bellow from her guildmates came after, accompanied by the sound of half a dozen Sword Skills tearing into Nicholas' flank; their attack had come too late to preempt the boss', but bought her the time she needed to recover and come back to her feet.

Sachi managed the roll with practiced ease. Months on end she'd trained herself to fight this way, even before the tragedy that claimed her friends. Now she put that practice to the test, turning the roll into a run right back at Nicholas, her sword held back to charge another skill, her mouth open for another yell of wordless fury.

Nicholas the Renegade was some levels below them, but he was still an event boss. His attacks were powerful, and as she'd suspected her cloak was useless to hide her from his sight. She was so focused on cutting him down anyway that she'd paid no heed to defense; her shield was more or less forgotten, useless as it was against a weapon of such size as Nicholas'.

Sachi didn't care. She'd pull back to heal if she absolutely had to, but in the meantime she was going to cut down as much of Nicholas' HP as she could.

She'd just gotten into range when Kirito finished carving a Horizontal Arc into Nicholas' side. “Sachi, Switch!”

There was no need to even say it. Dashing right past her retreating friend, she thrust her sword forward before she was even within reach. She connected anyway with the blaze of red light that shot forward from her blade; the high-level skill Vorpal Strike gave her that power, and its impact against Nicholas' chest staggered the evil gift-giver back half a step.

The others of Fuurinkazan were waiting, unleashed a flurry of One- and Two-Handed Sword Skills, spear thrusts, and mace blows on Nicholas' back and flanks. He roared again, the same glitched, metallic screech that had come before; he followed with a simple but fast Double-Cleave as he spun around, bowling over Dynamm and Dale despite the former's shield. The others managed to duck or leap back, but were still forced to hold off for a few precious moments.

It was still working. Nicholas was a boss, but they were at higher levels, with better gear, than Kayaba had apparently expected for the battle. Two of his four lifebars were already gone, and as Sachi readied herself for another attack she could see the third beginning to drain away, little by little.

Soon, she thought fiercely. Soon, I'll have it! Just a little more—!

Before she could start the Sonic Leap she planned to launch herself back into the fight, though, Kirito suddenly stepped into her path. “Pull back!” he said sharply, whipping his Valiant Edge up in an Uppercut to counter Nicholas' Overhand. “You're edging into the red; get back and heal!”

Sachi started to snap back a protest, only forcing her mouth closed by sheer will. She'd promised: she wouldn't die here. Instead, she nodded choppily, leapt back, and took a potion from her belt pouch.

Not much longer, she thought, wrenching open the drink and downing it with quick, angry motions. Just a little longer…!

Kayaba may have been a genius at programming, but as Klein took Orochi's Zekkuu skill on the edge of his katana, he reflected that the madman didn't know much about swords. In SAO your weapon took extra damage guarding with the flat; any self-respecting samurai knew darn well the opposite was true with a real katana.

And ain't that a stupid thing to think at a time like this, he groused, forcing Orochi back with the wavering half-circle of a Gengetsu. Damn, I thought Argo was exaggerating when she said how stupid Lind was getting. All this over a rumor? He's nuts!

Klein would've liked to have put that to Lind directly, but Kizmel hadn't exactly given him the chance. In hindsight it made some sense, since Orochi also favored the katana—though in his own humble opinion, Klein was just a tad better with it—yet he was pretty sure tactics hadn't been the elf girl's priority.

“How did you even find us, Lind?” he heard her ask, over the clash of saber-on-scimitar. “This place was hardly well-known at all, let alone its purpose.”

“The Rat knew nothing, and I knew that if anyone did, it would be you and your partner,” Lind replied; where her tone was almost conversational, his was tight, controlled. “From there—well, the DDA has a very good tracker.”

“So you spied on us.” A bit of anger in Kizmel's voice now; it almost made Klein miss Orochi's next strike completely, and he hissed when the blow still carved a shallow cut across his right shoulder. “Don't bother denying it; you shouldn't have even known Sachi's name otherwise—”

He lost track of the conversation for a bit after that, refocusing his attention on the arrogant DDA pretender to the art of Bushido who was currently trying to take off his arm. This was supposed to be a Half-Loss duel, but this Orochi guy seemed not to have gotten the memo.

Then I'll just show him what a real samurai is, Klein told himself. Sidestepping Orochi's next strike, he retaliated with an Engetsu, slashing once to the left then back to the right with a twist of his wrists. Orochi caught the first slice on his own katana; carried to the side by the impact, Klein's second strike came through cleanly, biting deep into the Dragon Knight's breastplate.

“I'm starting to think I may have misjudged you, Lady Kizmel,” Lind was saying when Klein could turn an ear that way again. The DDA guildmaster spoke through gritted teeth; when Klein glanced that way, Lind was raising his shield to cover, a crimson line marking his left pauldron. “Allowing then, for the sake of argument, that you are more than just an NPC—surely you understand our position. That we, too, have a legitimate concern here, with an item like this.”

“I do,” Kizmel conceded evenly. Holding her sword to her side, she let it charge with glowing power, then released it in a simple Horizontal, battering at Lind's shield. “I, too, have those whom I would wish to see brought back. I'm sure that any Swordmaster would. Your cause has as much merit as ours.”

Brushing aside Orochi's sword to thrust his own into the man's gut, Klein had to grin at the look on Lind's face. “If you realize that, then why—?”

“You've missed the flaw in your own argument, Lind,” Kizmel told him, taking advantage of his surprise to land a Reaver on his chest.

Lind hadn't lasted as long as he had as frontline leader through luck, though. He grunted, then lashed out in return, forcing the elf off-balance by bashing his shield into hers. “What are you talking about?” he demanded, following up with a Vertical Arc; the downstroke missed, but the return drew a deep line through her right bicep. “If you see the logic—”

“You have as much right to the Stone as we do,” she said, pulling back her saber to prepare another skill. “But only as much. And when two causes are of equal merit, I cannot choose by logic.” Her saber took on a bright azure glow. “Nor, now, by duty.” Letting the system assist take hold of her blade, Kizmel began to turn on the spot, sword whirling into a spin. “My choice must lie with those whom I love!”

If this had been the real world, Sachi's voice would've been sore from shouting. Letting out yet another battlecry, she slammed another Vorpal Strike through Nicholas' gut, tearing a deep gash of crimson wire-frame through his mockery of a Santa costume. He jerked back with a twisted cry of pain; above his head, his final lifebar dropped to a quarter.

Nicholas fell back on the waiting blades of Fuurinkazan, who ripped into him with everything they had. In front of him, Kirito rushed into the opening Sachi had created with his dark sword in hand, whirling once he was close enough to carve Sharp Nail's inverted triangle into Nicholas' chest.

The red-suited boss rallied in the moment Kirito was held by his own attack's post-motion, lunging forward to sweep his axe into Kirito's chest. With a grunt, the swordsman flew back, HP dropping a few precious percent; before he hit the ground, he contorted in a flip, turning his landing into an upright slide.

He didn't quite manage to cancel his momentum before his back hit one of the small fir trees ringing the clearing, but his only reaction was a gasp as the virtual wind was knocked out of him. “This is the final stretch!” he called, dropping back into a ready stance. He paused to check everyone's positions, then continued sharply, “Dynamm, everyone, get back—he's about to try an AoE!”

Sachi leapt back instantly, recognizing herself the glow beginning to surround Nicholas' axe. The other Fuurinkazan players scattered as well—not quite fast enough to get all the way clear, but far enough that it was only the shock of the axe's whirling passage that reached them, not the blade itself.

“Back on your feet, and we'll make the final push!” Kirito waited for the bowled-over, snow-covered samurai to right themselves, then nodded firmly to Sachi. “Let's hit it with everything!”

Dynamm led in with a leaping Fell Crescent, dragging his curved blade down Nicholas' back; Issin and Kunimittz followed him with synchronized Straight Thrusts that bit deeply enough to emerge from his chest. Harry One was next, making a Bone Crusher live up to its name by smashing his mace into the back of Nicholas' calf.

The boss staggered under the onslaught—and Dale's two-handed Avalanche to the spine drove Nicholas to his knees.

Kirito and Sachi were waiting.

With a loud yell of his own, Kirito launched into the longest Sword Skill Sachi had ever seen, his blade turning into a dark blur. One slash, two; a third, and he spun in a complete circle for the fourth. Where another skill might've finished there, this continued with a pair of full backflips, and finished with a spinning diagonal.

The seven-hit skill almost knocked Nicholas over, but his HP wasn't quite gone; a tiny sliver of red remained in his final lifebar—which left him alive to see Sachi rising in a Sonic Leap, stare him right in his separately-moving eyes, and slash her blade straight down through the top of his head.

Breathing hard, she hit the ground again in a crouch. Looking up at the boss from there, she watched his eyes roll wildly, a scream of tortured metal coming from his throat as he began to topple for the last time. Falling forward, he almost landed right on top of Sachi—only for Nicholas the Renegade to shatter into fragments just above her head, scattering to vanish in the snow.

A huge [Congratulations!] appeared in the air a moment later. Like the last time she'd seen that notice, though, it was greeted only by silence. For a long moment, no one said a word; not her, not her new friends in Fuurinkazan, not even Kirito.

Guys… I did it. I really did it… didn't I? With a shuddering breath, Sachi straightened up, put away her sword and shield, and with a shaking hand checked the rewards from defeating Nicholas. Surely, as the one who'd gotten the Last Attack…

A variety of jewels. A pair of boots that would probably have excellent stats. No sign whatsoever of any special item.

Sachi felt ice beginning to form in her stomach. Had it just been a rumor after all? Did Nicholas the Renegade really have nothing special at all. This… it can't have all been for nothing…!

The other members of Fuurinkazan were beginning to look at each uneasily, having checked their own loot drops. One head shook after another—then, just as she began to despair, she felt a hand on her shoulder. “Here, Sachi,” Kirito said softly when she turned to look at him. In his other hand was a rainbow-colored jewel, unlike anything she'd ever seen in Aincrad. “Take it.”

Trembling, she took the egg-sized stone in both hands. The Divine Stone of Returning Soul… it really exists…! I can… do this…

But who…? Tetsuo, Ducker, Sasamaru… Sumika. How do I decide…? No. First, let's make sure…

Swallowing hard, heart hammering in her chest, Sachi tapped the Stone, bringing up its menu.

“I'm afraid I really have misjudged you, Lady Kizmel. I'm sorry about that—for your sake. It would've been kinder if I'd been right…”

Even after the Dragon Knights grudgingly followed their leader back through the warp point, Kizmel found herself staring at the broken shards of Lind's sword. His reaction when she countered his argument, and destroyed his scimitar, wasn't at all what she'd been expecting.

It wasn't a sentiment she was completely unfamiliar with, of course. Kirito had given her a similar warning just before she gained the status of a Swordmaster. But for someone like Lind to say it, as well…

There was no time now to dwell on it, though. As a similarly-weary Klein slipped his katana back in its scabbard and sank to the snow-covered ground, the shimmering sound of a teleport came from behind them. Turning quickly, she found the rest of Fuurinkazan returning, alive and well, yet somber—and behind them, a stone-faced Kirito guided Sachi through.

Kizmel sent a questioning look to her partner. His response was a pained grimace, and a slow shake of the head.

She swallowed hard. Not that she was surprised, she had always thought it a faint hope, but even so… “Sachi?” she said gently.

Sachi plodded toward her, eyes dark. The girl came to a stop before the elf, lowered her head, and lifted a hand to reveal a brilliant jewel. “…Ten seconds,” she whispered. “The Stone only works… within ten seconds. My… my friends… it's been t-too long…”

She couldn't go on. Tears streaming down her face, Sachi let the Stone fall to the snow, and choked back a sob. Then another, only barely contained.

Throwing any trace of elven dignity to the wind, Kizmel pulled Sachi into a tight embrace. “Oh, my friend… I am so sorry…”

Control snapped completely, and Sachi buried her head against Kizmel's shoulder with a cry, howling the grief she'd suppressed for so long to the winter sky.

Chapter 11: Chapter XI: Christmas Waltz

Chapter Text

Chapter XI: Christmas Waltz

December 25th, 2023

After over a year trapped in the Steel Castle Aincrad, there were times he could hardly remember he'd ever had another name. That once, he'd fled as far and as fast as he could from the art of the blade. That he'd ever been anyone besides Kirito, the Black Swordsman.

Sometimes, though, he was still painfully reminded of the socially-inept otaku sleeping beneath the Swordmaster's shell. The aftermath of defeating Nicholas the Renegade was one of those times.

Sachi had calmed, at least, by the time Kirito and Kizmel arrived with her at the room Klein had more or less ordered them to stay in at Fuurinkazan's guildhall. No longer sobbing incoherently, even the signs that she had done so at all had been wiped from her face by the physics of the virtual world. Even still, Kirito didn't think he'd seen such a look on someone's face since the day the Black Cats had fallen.

All he could do was remain silent as the two girls sat on one of the room's futons. He wanted to say something, anything, to help, but this wasn't a battle he knew how to fight.

All I've ever done in this kind of situation is run away, he thought morosely, dropping wearily onto his own futon. Monsters I can fight. This… dammit, I hate feeling this helpless…

They all needed sleep, but none of them made any other move to turn in, instead sitting up in a long, deep silence. Finally, though, it was Sachi whose voice first broke that quiet. “It was a stupid idea, wasn't it,” she whispered. “Bringing back the dead… it was crazy of me even to hope.”

“Not crazy, I think,” Kizmel demurred, putting an arm across the girl's shoulders. “Unlikely, certainly—but if you humans are anything like my people, it's only natural to reach for such a hope, however slim. I know if I had heard of such a thing after my sister fell, I would have fought for it just as fiercely. As it was…”

Kirito winced internally. He remembered, not long after they met, her admission she might have been hoping to die in the battle in which he and Asuna had intervened. Whether that had been part of the initial scripting their actions had apparently broken that day, it wasn't a thought he liked very much. Less now than ever.

“…I've thought about that, too, once or twice,” Sachi admitted, looking down at the floor. “But I can't do that. I've lost so many myself in this world; I can't bear the idea of my family having to live with that… or my friends.” She smiled; a twisted, bittersweet expression. “Maybe it's just as well that I know for sure, now, that we can't bring anyone back. I took too many risks, chasing that dream.”

“There is something to be said for closure,” Kizmel agreed. “I would dearly love to have Tilnel back—but I would rather move on, with my friends, than be chained to an empty hope. As much as I've lost, I still have much to live for.”

Sachi stared at the floor for a long minute more, before taking a deep, sighing breath. “You're right,” she said softly. “I didn't get what I was looking for… but maybe it was worth it to try, anyway. If Keita ever talks to me again, I can tell him that much. And we did at least get something out of it.” She raised her head, looking at Kirito. “Are you sure you're okay with leaving the Stone with us? It was only because of your help that we could even find it…”

He raised his hands, shaking his head. “Fuurinkazan is more likely to need it than we are,” he told her. “We're just a pair, and we're careful—and anything that does get one of us is likely to get both of us, anyway.”

And, Kirito didn't, couldn't, say aloud, I don't even know if it would work on Kizmel. If I needed to try, and it didn't… He couldn't even finish the thought.

Before he could dwell on that too long, anyway, Kizmel cleared her throat. “Kirito is right, Sachi. Besides,” she added with a small smile, “I believe we have enough trouble with Guildmaster Lind as it is. No need to take possession of yet another rare artifact and attract yet more attention.”

To Kirito's surprise, Sachi actually laughed at that. Briefly, but she did, and afterward she even had a weak smile of her own. “Fair enough,” she admitted. “You two do seem to have some kind of history with the DDA. Is there some reason that Lind guy doesn't like you?”

“Long story,” Kirito said, waving a hand. “It goes back to Illfang, actually—I don't think he still blames me for that one, but who knows—but it boils down to him still wanting to be in charge of the clearing group, and, well…”

“Kirito doesn't play well with others,” Kizmel said dryly. “Present company excepted, thankfully.” Her face sobered. “I'll tell you the full story later, Sachi; perhaps at the festival. In the meantime, we had all best get some rest. …Are you going to be all right?”

There was another long silence. “I think so,” Sachi said at length, looking down at the floor again. “Maybe not yet, but… I do feel better than I did earlier. At least I won't be wondering anymore. Or taking crazy chances looking.”

Kirito found himself nodding at that, as the girls turned to getting ready for bed. It's a good thing we were involved. Taking on something like Nicholas solo… that's too crazy even for me. Some risks are just too dangerous, even for a “Beater” like me—

“Wait, Kizmel, Kirito's still here—”

He looked up at Sachi's protest, just in time to see Kizmel bringing up her menu. A very brief moment of confusion followed—then he whipped his head around to face the wall, barely an instant before very familiar chimes and swishing sounds filled the room.

Face aflame, Kirito busied himself for a few moments uneqipping his boots, coat, and sword; just enough to make sleep comfortable, without leaving himself dangerously exposed. Only when he heard blankets shift did he dare even glance back toward his roommates.

Tucked into her futon, her face bright red, Sachi refused to look in his direction at all. Next to her, wearing a teasing smile and her usual thin nightgown, Kizmel chuckled. “I trust him, Sachi. I know he'll not do anything I would object to.”

Dragging blankets over her head, Sachi mumbled, “There's more than one way to take that, you know!”

I'll say! And if Argo were here, she'd really let us have it! Worse, knowing his partner's sense of humor, it was all too likely she knew exactly how it could be taken. I know you keep saying you've got nothing to hide from me, but this is a bit much!

Realizing from the look on Kizmel's face that his eyes were starting to stray dangerously low, Kirito hurriedly rolled to face the wall again. She was probably just trying to break the tension, he thought, pulling up his own blankets. It's hard to be gloomy after that! But still… you're lucky it's just me, Kizmel. What would you have done if I did take it the wrong way?

Thank goodness for the anti-harassment code. Knowing he didn't need to worry about some possibilities was probably the only thing that let him get to sleep.

“Rovia: prettiest town in the first ten floors, and the biggest pain to get around. If there were more bridges, I'd be really tempted to move the guildhall down here.”

“Don't even think it, Leader. We're not cut out to be boatmen.”

“Says the pirate!”

“Hey, I said if, guys, take it easy…”

Sachi chuckled at the byplay, and Kizmel hid a sigh of relief at the sound. As the combined group of Fuurinkazan and solos made their way from the Teleport Plaza of Rovia toward a dock at the far end of town, the former Black Cat was still obviously subdued, but still far better off than she'd been before.

Better, really, than when we began preparing for last night's battle, Kizmel thought, keeping a surreptitious eye on the other girl. Last night was painful… but necessary, I think. We all needed the chance to put that fool's hope to rest.

With that behind them, the elf could properly appreciate the celebration to come, as well as their current surroundings. She hadn't seen much of the canal city Rovia when first she'd fought alongside Kirito on the Fourth Floor; the conflict with the Forest Elves, as well as the battle with the Pillar Guardian, had taken all her time with her human friends then.

Klein was right: it truly was a beautiful place, in its own way. The canals were unlike anything she'd seen in other human settlements, and if there were few Swordmasters these days plying the gondolas along them, there were still many humans born of Aincrad going about their business.

Of course, there were still a fair number of Swordmaster gondolas around, waiting for the return of their owners. With the size of their group, in fact, Fuurinkazan had arranged to rent a large one from an enterprising Swordmaster who'd started a unique business of it. Kizmel would honestly have preferred to take the boat her human friends owned, named as it was for her own sister, but practical concerns prevailed.

A small price to pay, in any case. At the least, the company will be—

“There you are! I hope one of you, at least, has a good explanation for this? I do have duties in the guild, you know!”

Waiting for them at the pier was the final member of the group heading for Yofel Castle, whether she knew it yet or not. Probably not, Kizmel thought with some amusem*nt, seeing the look of exasperation Asuna wore along with her white and red KoB uniform. I suppose Guildmaster Heathcliff left it to us to explain.

From the look on his face, Kirito had realized the same thing, and was not as amused as the elf was. “Ah, Asuna,” he began, rubbing the back of his head nervously, “actually…”

“Actually, what?” Asuna prompted, hands on her hips. “Guildmaster Heathcliff told me to take the day off and come here, but he wouldn't tell me why! Some of us are busy even on holidays, Kirito-kun, so there'd better be a good reason—”

“Aw, take it easy, Aa-chan!” Pushing past a bemused Klein, Argo came to the fore of the group, a mischievous grin on her face. “It's Christmas, an' we're having a party. And Kii-bou told me about last year, so don't worry: this year, the cake's not a lie!”

Taken aback, Asuna blinked in obvious confusion. Feeling much the same, Kizmel shot a quick glance at Kirito, but her partner only shrugged, clearly just as baffled—the collective groan quickly brought her attention to Fuurinkazan, though, most of whom were demonstrating remarkable coordination in covering their faces.

Unfazed, Argo waved a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah, I know, that meme was old when we were kids, you don't gotta say it, Klein… Forget it, Aa-chan. Look, we're going to a festival at Yofel Castle, this time there's gonna be a Christmas cake, and Kii-bou and Kii-chan didn't wanna do this without you.”

“I did kinda screw it up last year,” Kirito said sheepishly, glancing away. “So… I wanted to do it right, this time.”

Asuna looked at him for a long moment, glanced quickly at Kizmel, then finally sighed, shaking her head. “Oh, fine. I guess I can take one day off… and it's as good a time as any to get you and Kizmel-chan up to speed about a couple things, anyway.” Before Kizmel could question that ominous remark, the other girl looked past them at Fuurinkazan. “Would someone introduce me, please? I recognize Sachi-chan, of course…”

“Ah, right.” Kirito coughed into his hand, then swept it out to gesture at the guild. “This is Fuurinkazan, led by Klein. I've known them off and on since the start, and they're the ones who took in Sachi after… Well, you know that story. Klein, everyone, this is Asuna, Vice-Commander of the Knights of Blood.”

Some of the irritation finally faded from Asuna's demeanor, and she bowed formally. “A pleasure to meet you all. Kirito-kun's mentioned you a couple of times, Klein-san… Er, Klein-san?”

For a moment, Kizmel was as puzzled as Asuna by Klein's immobility; he hadn't so much as twitched since the Knight had come into view. Then, catching Kirito's resigned expression, she remembered where she'd seen that reaction before, and had to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.

Just as Asuna was starting to look concerned, Klein snapped to attention, bowed stiffly, and said, “Hello, Asuna-sama! Klein, twenty-three, single, looking for—”

Kirito and Argo struck him lightly on either side of his head, turning his formal introduction into a flailing stumble, only barely caught by Dynamm. “Don't mind him,” the Rat advised, rolling her eyes. “That's how Klein greets every girl he thinks might be old enough. Gonna get him ganked one of these days, ya ask me…”

“He's a good guy, though,” Kirito said hastily. “Even if he's a little—well, strange—ack!”

Yanking him back by his collar, Klein glared at him. “Do you always have to hit me?! Give a guy a break once in a while, you—”

Asuna stared at the byplay, glanced at Argo's obvious mirth, and finally turned her gaze on Kizmel again. “Well?” she said pointedly.

“Kirito is right, Klein is a good man,” Kizmel assured her, unable to restrain a smile of her own. “And his guild is as reliable as they come. Truly, Asuna, do you believe we'd take them to Yofel Castle if they were any less?”

“No… no, I suppose not.” Finally, even Asuna began to smile, just a little. “All right, I admit I could probably use the laugh. Things have been a little tense lately…” Turning back to the still-squabbling group, she raised her voice. “If you people are quite done, let's go. And I'm holding you to that cake, Kirito-kun.”

Asuna's in one of her moods, it sounds like she's got news I'm not gonna like, and I'm stuck playing gondolier. I hope the festival goes better than this.

Not that Kirito was exactly unfamiliar with guiding a gondola around the Fourth Floor's canals and rivers, but it had been almost a year. Worse, the gondola he was steering now was of the largest size available, and filled to capacity at that; Tilnel, his and Asuna's old boat, had only carried two plus the gondolier. This one just wasn't as nimble as he was used to.

He really hoped nobody noticed how he almost rammed them into an NPC gondola on the way out of town.

“So what is the news you have for us, Asuna?” Kizmel asked from near the front of the gondola, as they slipped from Rovia's canals into the river leading to the southern end of the floor. “Has something happened since we were last on the frontline?”

Asuna had been leaning against one side of the gondola, idly watching the fish—and not-fish—pass by them. Now she glanced up, started to speak; paused when she remembered the other players aboard. After a moment of obvious thought, she sighed. “I suppose everyone here should know, under the circ*mstances. Though maybe we should discuss this privately, Klein-san…?”

Klein shook his head. “Now that's not ominous at all… Give it to us straight, Asuna-san, anything you can say to me, I want my guild to know.”

Heh. That's Klein for you, Kirito thought, allowing himself a small, bitter smile. A real leader… we sure could use him on the frontlines. Heck, he probably should have the Baneblade… but he's too much a samurai, he'd never take it. Unfortunately.

The KoB vice-commander gave Klein a thoughtful look, then turned it on the other members of Fuurinkazan. Whatever she saw apparently satisfied her; probably, Kirito suspected, spotting Sachi was the clincher. If anyone outside the clearers knew how to handle bad news, it was the former Black Cat.

“All right, then,” Asuna said finally. Shifting in her seat to get a better look at the group as a whole, she continued, “The first thing you should probably know is that the DDA is… a bit out of sorts, right now. I don't know what happened last night, but it's got all of them snapping at anybody they see. I actually think Lind is trying to keep a lid on it, but you know what his people are like.”

“Yes,” Kizmel agreed, shaking her head with a sigh. “They're not as fractious as Kibaou's group, but Guildmaster Lind does seem to have… difficulties with his leadership.”
“This time, it's our fault, too.” Klein rubbed the back of his head, looking down at the deck. “They were after the same item we were, last night. We got there first, and he lost the duel.”

Asuna turned so sharply the gondola rocked. “A duel?! What duel?!” she demanded. “You fought a duel with Lind?!”

“Hey, easy there!” Kirito protested, fighting with the oar to get the gondola back on course. With an effort, thanking whatever higher power might be listening that he'd put so many points into his strength stat, he managed to avoid a collision with a canyon wall.

Barely. Swearing under his breath, he promised himself that if anyone did rock the boat enough to cause an accident, he'd make sure they were the ones who paid the repair fee.

When it had settled, Kizmel cleared her throat. “Technically, I was the one who fought Guildmaster Lind,” she said. “Klein dueled with another Dragon Knight, Orochi. Trial by combat was the means agreed upon to determine whether or not the Dragon Knights would be allowed to interfere in the battle Kirito and Fuurinkazan were engaged in.”

“A battle… you mean a boss battle?” Asuna looked from one to another through narrowed eyes. “All right, you'd better give it to me from the top. What exactly happened last night?”

The explanation took up about half the trip down the river, interrupted as it was by Klein needing to fend off a Crocoshark that tried to take a bite out of the boat in the middle. He and Kizmel took turns explaining the details of the duel—still omitting, Kirito noticed, the exact details of Kizmel's discussion with Lind—while the other members of Fuurinkazan handled the battle with Nicholas the Renegade.

Much of that was from Kirito himself, in between trying not to capsize them. Sachi may have been recovering from her depression, but she still seemed to be in no fit state to talk about the incident to others, or what had led up to it.

At the end of it, Asuna slumped back in her seat. “Well, that explains that,” she said wearily. “The DDA doesn't like losing at the best of times, and with a revival item in the mix… I won't ask what you're going to do with it now—the last thing the clearing group needs is another debate about what to do with a rare item—but I'll tell you it explains a lot about why the DDA is acting like that this morning.”

“I heard he'd lost a guy,” Klein murmured, rubbing his goatee. “I know I'd take that personally. Maybe it'll die down once word gets out that the Stone doesn't work if you're not right there? Well, once we figure out a way to get the word out without people coming after us for it…”

“I'm workin' on that, big guy,” Argo put in. Up to then, she'd been to all appearances asleep against the side of the gondola; knowing her, though, Kirito wasn't very surprised to see her fully alert now. “It's gonna be in my next guide, from one of my 'anonymous sources'; everybody knows mine are good.” For once there was no humor on her whiskered face, despite the boast. “But I dunno how much good that's gonna do. Right, Aa-chan?”

“She's right,” Asuna confirmed unhappily. “I'm not at all sure the DDA will believe it, except maybe Lind. And whether they do or not, there's going to be a lot of interest in finding more of those Stones. Even if they do only work within ten seconds, right now people will take what they can get.” She huffed, looking torn between irritation and worry. “And it's stupid! It wouldn't help with what's going on right now, anyway!”

Kirito felt a chill, and from the collective looks of most of the passengers, he wasn't the only one. Worse, he had a pretty good idea of why. Fuurinkazan, he suspected, didn't—but they were about to, if he was right. “What is going on, Asuna?” he asked, afraid he knew the answer.

“Naga isn't the only victim of a direct PK anymore,” Asuna said bluntly. “Well, you and Kizmel-chan probably already knew that, after what happened to you two on the Thirty-Seventh Floor, but… it's getting worse. Ten mid-level players have been murdered in the last month—and that's just the ones we know were PKed. There are a few more we suspect, but without witnesses, we can't be sure.”

Klein said something Kirito personally thought any sane MMO would've censored, but he couldn't disagree. He'd known it was bad—Argo had kept him and Kizmel updated, and hadn't even charged for that information—yet he hadn't realized it was quite that bad. Ten murders in a month, at least, in a game everyone knew killed players for real…

No. It's even worse than that. “Witnesses?” he began, only to cut himself off and focus on steering when he realized he was about to run them into a sizable log.

“Pretty sure it means just what you think it does, Kirito-kun,” Asuna said grimly. From the look on her face, she wanted to take out her rapier right then and there and go hunting. “The PKers wanted them to live. Otherwise they would never have gotten away.”

“PoH,” Kizmel said flatly. From her, the name sounded like a curse as vile as Klein's.

“It sounds like it, from what you two told us about him.” Asuna's hand clenched on the hilt of her sword, before she visibly forced it to relax. “Which is what I meant that trying for more of those Stones is stupid. These people wouldn't give anyone a chance to use one anyway. Anybody who tried to stick around to use it would just be killed, too.”

There was a long silence as the group as a whole digested the grim news. Sachi in particular, Kirito noticed, looked ill. It was Klein, though, that broke the gathering tension. “…Damn,” he whispered, with the tone of someone who couldn't find an adequate obscenity. “That's just… Who does somethin' like that, knowing what's at stake here?”

“I don't think we want to know, Leader,” Dynamm said, a distant look in his eyes. “That kind of mindset we're better off not understanding, you ask me.” After a long moment of staring at something only he could see, he shook himself. “Well, suddenly I'm glad we're making this trip. Thanks for the warning, Asuna-san. We'll be careful.”

Asuna inclined her head. “For what it's worth, I don't expect Fuurinkazan to be targeted,” she said. “I won't ask, but it looks like you're all close to clearer level? So far, they've only gone after weaker players. Well, except for Kirito-kun and Kizmel-chan, but that was different… As Vice-Commander of the KoB, however, I would ask you to pass it on to any lower-level players you do know.”

“Done,” Klein said at once. “Sounds like we'll be fine, yeah, but I know a few… But that's for later.” He gestured out at the river; Kirito had just guided them around a bend, and now fog was starting to envelop them. “Looks like we're almost at our destination, and I, for one, don't wanna spoil a perfectly good party!”

The Knight might've had something to say about that, but they burst out of the fog before she could. All eyes immediately went to the island in the center of the lake they'd just entered—and the castle built atop it, flying the crossed horn and scimitar flag of the Dark Elves of Lyusula.

Slowly, taking care not to rock the gondola too much, Kizmel stood up, a small smile on her face. “There it is, my friends: Yofel Castle, demesne of Viscount Leyshren Zed Yofilis.” She caught Kirito's eye, then glanced to Asuna and Sachi, and her smile grew. “Allow us to show you a proper Yule Festival!”

After the gloomy conversation on the river trip, Klein had to admit Yofel Castle made for a really good distraction. He'd never even known the place was there; the quests Fuurinkazan had taken on when they'd come to the Fourth Floor the first time hadn't brought them within sight of the lake at the southern edge. So he hadn't really known what to expect, when Kirito invited them along.

Damn, but those elves have got style, he thought, whistling long and low at the sight. Isolated on an island, built of gleaming white stone, it was both large and elegant—bigger than he'd thought, he realized as Kirito brought the gondola in close to Yofel Castle's long pier. They sure put a lot of effort into this place… just what was that questline like, anyway?

“Here's our stop,” Kirito announced, bringing the boat to a careful halt. “Whatever you do, don't tie that line, we'll have to swim back if you do… Everybody off, and follow our lead.”

Torn between awe at the snow-covered fortress and amusem*nt at his buddy's attitude, Klein motioned for Fuurinkazan to follow him off the boat and onto the pier—as ordered, letting the co*cky solo, his partner, and the celebrity fencer go first. They were the ones who were flagged to have access, after all. Besides, it gave the rest of them time to gawk.

“You ever been here before, Sachi-chan?” he asked quietly, eyeing the two halberd-wielding elves guarding the heavy metal gates. “Hell of a place they've got…” Klein trailed off, remembering belatedly the only time the girl had traveled with Kirito and Kizmel was not the best thing to remind her of just then.

To his relief, while she did look a little sad, Sachi only shook her head calmly. “They never took us anywhere that wasn't going to help with our leveling. I don't really know that much about the Elf War questline. Just a few stories Kizmel told me, really.”

“Huh.” Well, he couldn't claim to be surprised by that. Getting Kirito to talk about anything could be harder than kiting Giant Trapdoor Spiders. “Well, I guess we're gonna see it for ourselves in a second…”

At the approach of the players, the elven guards braced to attention, but didn't quite brandish their halberds. “Swordmasters,” one of them said, inclining his head. “Welcome back to Yofel Castle—and welcome to your guests, as well. Please, proceed.”

Yep, they know him here. Must've been a heck of a quest—whoa, that's cool!

With a rumble, the dark gates swung open, revealing the fortress behind the outer wall: a huge building like a European castle, made of the same bright stone as that first wall. Klein couldn't see all of it from there, but he did notice two grand towers to either side; more immediate, and spectacular, was the front courtyard.

Trees, planters, cast iron fences… All of it lit by pale blue lanterns, lending the place an otherworldly feeling, enhanced by the groups of Dark Elves gathered in it. Talking, drinking, some of them even singing; it made Klein feel like he'd wandered into a completely different game.

The three who'd been there before just kept right on going, heading for the main building as if this was all old hat to them. Argo, well-informed Rat that she was, didn't seem any less at home. He was more than a little relieved that his own guild was gawking just as much as he was; even Sachi, who had only a trace of gloom on her face now.

“I feel like we've walked into Rivendell,” she whispered. “I had no idea there was anything like this in Aincrad…”

“Yeah, tell me about it.” Klein caught a bit of singing he was sure wasn't in Japanese, and felt his world tilt just a little more. “Sometime I gotta get the whole story out of Kirito. This is way more elaborate than anything from any quest I've been through.”

“If you think this is impressive,” Kizmel called over her shoulder, “just wait. The Yule Festival is being held in the inner courtyard.”

“I dunno,” Kunimittz muttered. “Can we take the shock?” Despite the sarcasm, though, he looked as much out of his element as any of them.

It actually made Klein vaguely uneasy. In a game where the story seemed to be mostly created by the actions of the players, he was getting the sense that the Dark Elves—maybe the Elf War quest elements in general—were weirdly well-developed. Considering that as far as he knew, his buddy Kirito and his old partner were the only players who'd ever gone all the way through it…

Later, he told himself, following the clearers' lead into the main structure of the castle. You can wonder what the hell Kayaba's up to later. Tonight, you party, and forget about all the bad things for a few hours.

Putting that back out of his mind wasn't too hard. After just a few turns down halls just as elaborate as the exterior, they came out into a large room, filled with tables and more chatting elves. Klein had just a moment of deepened unreality at the sight of a few long-eared children playing in a corner, before his attention was grabbed by a deep voice.

“Swordmaster Kirito, Lady Asuna—and Lady Kizmel, as well. Welcome back to Yofel Castle, my friends.”

Starting, Klein turned to see a tall, oddly-pale Dark Elf greeting the clearers. Decked out in a uniform as fancy as the castle, there was a scar running down his face, right through where his left eye… didn't seem to be anymore. Which was just plain weird, as far as the samurai was concerned, but it didn't seem to faze his younger friends.

“A pleasure to be here again, My Lord,” Asuna replied, bowing formally. There wasn't a trace of the bite she'd had when talking to Kirito earlier, Klein noticed. “I hope we're not imposing?”

“By no means,” the elf told her with a smile. “Those who saved my Castle, and my people, are more than welcome—as are their friends, of course.” He turned to Fuurinkazan. “Welcome, Swordmasters. I am Viscount Leyshren Zed Yofilis. Please be at ease, as long as you are here.”

Finally, something normal. Yofilis came across as a bit smarter than most NPCs, but unlike Kizmel some of that did sound to Klein like scripted dialogue. For a little bit there, I was wondering if we were still in a game at all.

A jab to his ribs from Sachi's elbow reminded him he should still say something in return; even normal NPCs expected some kind of response. “Thank you, uh, My Lord. We'll try not to make too much of a fuss.”

Kizmel cleared her throat then. “Ah, forgive me, My Lord, I should have remembered: will our armor be an issue?”

Our armor? Wha? Confused, Klein glanced down at his perfectly normal samurai armor, at the sets the rest of his guild wore, and then at the elven girl's own light chestplate. What the heck does our armor have to do with anything? …And why are Kirito and Asuna-san facepalming?

Yofilis laughed, startling him. “Fear not, Lady Kizmel. The war may be over, but I have no intention of being complacent. I have given strict orders on the matter. The priests, I am afraid, will simply have to live with the clatter.” He coughed. “That being said… Armor is not, perhaps, the best fit for the final night of the Yule Festival. If you would care to visit the residential wing of the Castle later, I believe the staff can fit all of you with more suitable clothing for the occasion.”

Klein looked down at his armor again, and had to concede the point. Yeah, I guess we're not really fit for partying… but what the heck do elves wear to a party? …Oh, right. Look around, idiot, there're partying elves all over the place. Um. This is gonna feel kinda strange…

“We'll take ya up on that, M'lord!” Argo piped up, grinning. “Don't wanna be under-dressed for this! And besides—” She suddenly grabbed Kizmel's arm, startling the elf. “Gotta have a little girl talk before tonight, anyway.”

Kirito's look of sheer dread didn't strike Klein as a good sign. Neither did the way Asuna and Kizmel both blushed—and Sachi's audible “Eep!” was just about the final straw for his nerves.

On the other hand, he thought, catching a fangy grin the Rat sent Kirito's way, it doesn't look like it has anything to do with most of us… Oh, right! Remembering his own message to Argo, over a week before, he found himself grinning too. Right on, Argo, let's get those two loosened up a little.

The Black Swordsman obviously saw Klein's expression, judging from the glare he sent. Somehow, though, Klein couldn't bring himself to worry about it too much. Kirito was going to have other things on his mind soon enough—probably enough to make him forget all about petty thoughts of revenge.

Kizmel had never really seen much interaction between her people and human Swordmasters before. Not a thought that had really occurred to her before, but it was one that came right to the forefront now. Before, the only Swordmasters who had ever spent much time with the Dark Elves were Kirito and Asuna; today, Fuurinkazan was with them as well—not to forget Argo.

The resulting contrast, she was finding, was stark.

She wasn't sure she would have even noticed, just a few months ago. After an odd experience in Fort Renya, though, as well as a few strange moments on the Forty-Third Floor, she'd been looking more closely lately. Especially after Lind's ominous comment the previous night.

Perhaps I've merely been away from Lyusula's domains too long, Kizmel thought. She, along with her partner and the other human visitors, sat at a large table in a dining chamber off Yofel Castle's Great Hall. Like her fellow Swordmasters, she'd just ordered light refreshments from the Castle's staff, and found the experience taking more of her attention than she expected.

After all, she mused as the waiters bowed and left, I do spend most of my time around the least organized of the Swordmasters. It's just as likely that I've grown accustomed to their informality. Argo's, in particular. And this is Yofel Castle; hardly the most relaxed outpost of the Kingdom, even in time of peace.

Still. The stilted manner of the servants struck Kizmel as strange—and she was sure most Dark Elves knew more of the human tongue than these seemed to understand. Didn't they?

“Oi, Kizmel-san. You okay over there?”

She twitched, surprised by the sudden interjection. “Ah. My apologies, Guildmaster Klein. I was just… lost in thought for a few moments.”

The samurai waved it off. “C'mon, Kizmel-san, drop the 'Guildmaster'. You're Kirito's buddy, and any friend of his is a friend of mine.” He leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms behind his head. “Anyway. Pretty deep thoughts, looked to me. You okay?”

Kizmel started to reply; hesitated, when she caught Argo's expression from the corner of her eye. “Nothing worth Cor, Klein,” she said carefully. “And please, the 'san' isn't needed… I was merely reflecting on how much my life has changed over the past year. Since I first met the Swordmasters.”

“I think that's true for just about all of us,” Asuna agreed. Resting her elbows on the table, she had a thoughtful look on her face. “I can't think of anyone I know in Aincrad who hasn't changed a lot since we first came here.” She smiled; an expression that seemed an odd mix of sad and sheepish. “I know I never thought a year ago I'd be where I am now.”

There were nods all around at that. Most notably, Kizmel noticed, from Sachi and Kirito; the one, she was sure, because of what had happened to her friends. And Kirito, if I know him, because he still has no idea how he won so many friends.

She smiled to herself. One wish she had, however petty, was to see the look on her partner's face when it finally occurred to him why some people refused to take his villain act at face value.

“Heck of a year, yeah,” Klein agreed. “Scary thing is, though, so much of this is starting to feel normal. Like being here. This castle is really nice, not the kinda place I'd ever have thought I'd end up in before Aincrad. Now? Sure, it's still really cool, but…”

“Normal,” Sachi agreed softly. She looked down at the table; from her position, Kizmel couldn't quite see the girl's expression. “Almost more normal than…”

It was unclear if the former Black Cat would've ever finished the sentence; she hadn't been silent long before the waiters returned, interrupting the conversation with the welcome delivery of food. Talk in general was put off for a time by eating—prefaced by the Swordmasters' traditional “Itadakimasu,” a word whose meaning she still wasn't clear on—which was, all things considered, probably just as well.

Especially with the distraction provided by Klein's comical reaction to realizing he was eating roast goat. Apparently not a dish with which he was familiar, though he seemed to find it acceptable once he'd recovered from his surprise.

Of course, pleasant as it is, the food here lacks the variety of the Swordmasters… Heh. I really have been with them too long, if I'm even thinking this way about food!

Somehow, Kizmel couldn't say that actually bothered her.

The group as a whole had managed to put about half the meal away before anything was said again. Eventually, though, Klein glanced up from his plate, a thoughtful look on his face. “Speaking of this castle,” he said, “I've been kinda wondering… This is a heck of a fortress, Kizmel. Just how bad was that war, anyway?”

Sachi paused, another bite of goat halfway to her mouth. “I've been wondering about that, too,” she said shyly. “Come to think of it, I don't think I ever heard how you and Kirito got together—as partners, I mean!” she added hastily.

Kizmel didn't miss the look that crossed Asuna's face, though it was the one on Argo's that worried her more, knowing the Rat. Amusem*nt in general passed quickly regardless, and she exchanged significant looks with both Asuna and Kirito—the only others who knew the full tale, and just how dark some of it had been.

At Asuna's small shrug, and Kirito's tiny nod, Kizmel drew in a slow breath. “That's… something of a long story,” she said slowly, considering exactly how much to say. Some of it was public knowledge, some of it very private—and some of it traumatic enough she hardly cared to remember it herself. “Hm… Well, some of it Argo would doubtless prefer I left to her to sell, but I suppose a brief account wouldn't intrude on her profits too much.”

“Why, thankee, Kii-chan! Very thoughtful of ya to remember, today of all days.”

The elf allowed herself the human gesture of rolling her eyes, but let it pass. Indulging in the human practice of “payback” would have to wait for another time. For now, she crossed her arms and closed her eyes, leaning back in her chair as she turned her thoughts to those days.

“The war itself was, as you may have guessed, a long, bitter affair,” she began. “My people's grievances with the Forest Elves went back many centuries. Indeed, the roots of the conflict went back to before the Great Separation, as we learned from the involvement of the Fallen Elves.”

“Fallen Elves,” Sachi murmured, a shadow in her eyes. “Like…”

“The Commandant, yeah. For what it's worth, though, he was probably the last of their generals.” Kirito's gaze went to a window overlooking the lake as he made his first, quiet contribution to the tale. “We made sure of that.”

Klein cleared his throat. “Lemme guess: Dark Elves don't like Forest Elves, but Fallen are even worse?”

“They had indulged in great crimes against both us and the Forest Elves long ago, Klein,” Kizmel told him, “to say nothing of their pursuit of forbidden arts. They were also responsible for manipulating Dark and Forest into battle with one another.” She remembered when Kirito and Asuna had first brought news that Fallen and Forest were in league—and how little they truly knew, then, of what was actually going on.

“They tricked you into fighting each other?” Sachi's gaze went to the lake, that shadow in her eyes growing darker still. “That reminds me of…”

“PoH and his band of freaks.” Klein growled low in his throat, looking like he wanted to reach for the katana he wasn't wearing. “No wonder. You guys smashed 'em good when you figured it out, huh?”

“Not exactly. Indeed, we never would have puzzled out the truth at all, were it not for Kirito and Asuna.” Kizmel's gaze met Kirito's briefly, then Asuna's, a bittersweet smile playing on her lips. “I still find it remarkable even now. There was no real meaning in our meeting, yet by the end…”

They were only seeking the power to survive, she thought, remembering that year-ago day when she'd first truly interacted with Swordmasters. Kirito did not expect me to live through those first minutes… yet that meeting saved my life, and my people.

I've gained much from that, despite the pain. Friends. Experiences I would never have had, otherwise…

Kizmel shook off the memory. “Argo will doubtless be willing to sell you many of the details later. To make a long story short, I met Kirito and Asuna almost by chance, but our adventures together brought to light the true conflict—and when the Fallen Elves made a last attack on our capital on the Ninth Floor with all their strength, the three of us assaulted their headquarters in turn.”

She didn't like to think too much about that. The Fallen Elves' last stronghold had been steeped in the dark magic they had used in eons past to seek immortality, and their strongest warriors had defended it. Along with her human friends, they'd gone in with a dozen Pagoda Knights—yet by the time they faced the King of the Fallen Elves, only the three of them had survived.

“…We destroyed their leadership,” Kizmel said softly. “At great cost.” Nearly including my own life. If Asuna had not been so fast—had Kirito not known of athelas—that would have been the end. “There may yet be some Fallen Elves in dark corners of Aincrad, but they will never be a great threat to anyone again.”

They'd been threat enough to small groups, of course. The darkness in Sachi's eyes was proof of that. But the danger they'd once been to Aincrad itself—no. That, they would never be again.

“Well,” Klein said after a long, uncomfortable moment. “That was heavier than I counted on. Sorry if I brought up bad memories, guys. Guess now I understand why you and Kirito get along so well, though, Kizmel. Been through a lot together, haven't you?”

“You could say that,” Asuna put in. “I was with them for a lot of that, remember.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course, since I joined the KoB they've been up to things even I can't keep up with. Sometimes I think they're deliberately holding out on me!”

We are, Kizmel thought dryly, grateful for the change in subject. Seeing as I strongly suspect half of Kirito's discomfort with living with me comes from an ingrained fear of your retribution.

“O' course, that's what I'm here for.” Argo flashed a fanged grin. “Fer the right price, I got lots of dirt on these guys.”

Kirito covered his face with his hand. “Argo… do you have to sound like a professional blackmailer, instead of an info broker…?”

From there, to Kizmel's relief, the conversation stayed away from more serious subjects. This was supposed to be a day of celebration, after all; and if it had begun with closing the door on a particularly grim chapter of their time together, it was all the more important to enjoy the Yule Festival to the fullest.

Perhaps I have been around them too much to feel at home among my own people any longer. But if this vibrant life is what I receive in return, that is a sacrifice I can accept.

That, at least, was what she thought at first. Then, when they'd all finished the meal, the waiters returned to collect their plates—accompanied by a more senior member of Yofel Castle's staff. “Your pardon, Swordmasters,” he said, bowing diffidently. “Viscount Yofilis sends his regards, and suggests that you all prepare for the evening's events.”

“Oh, right.” Asuna nodded. “He did say something about, um, providing clothing for the evening…?”

“Yes, My Lady. If you will come with me, other members of the staff are waiting in the residential wing to help you prepare.”

Argo quickly jumped to her feet. “Lead on, then!” She flashed another of those unnerving grins. “C'mon, Kii-chan, Aa-chan. We gotta get ready for the main event!”

Kizmel shivered, despite Yofel Castle's warmth. She had the uncomfortable feeling the girl was not speaking of the official events of the Yule Festival…

Being at Yofel Castle again felt almost painfully nostalgic, Asuna reflected that evening. Looking around the Great Hall, seeing Dark Elves everywhere and hardly a trace of other players—just a handful of Fuurinkazan, gawking and chatting—took her back a year; it felt more like a lifetime. It felt like she'd been a different person from the one now sitting at a Dark Elf table, that first Christmas in Aincrad.

I was a different person, she told herself, taking a thoughtful bite of the one dish that Kirito had brought, rather than the Castle's staff. I wasn't the honor student anymore—but I wasn't quite who I am now, either. I was… weak. Weak, and needing to prove myself… and naive about what this world was really like.

Deliberately, Asuna pushed that thought aside. She had found her place, and if her commander was going to insist she take a day off, she was going to enjoy it. As it was, it was wearing on toward nightfall, when the gathering was supposed to move out into the inner courtyard. Before that, she wanted to get the most out of the treat Kirito had brought her.

“At least you really did remember the cake this time,” she remarked at length, halfway through a third piece. “I guess I'll forgive you for blackmailing the Commander into setting this up.”

Kirito, seated on the other side of the table with his own plate of crumbly dessert in front of him, raised his fork defensively. “Hey, I wouldn't lie about something like this. And who said anything about blackmail, anyway?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh, are you really going to tell me all you did was ask him nicely? You do know we're really busy with the clearing these days, Kirito-kun. I can't be gone too long.”

He sighed, shook his head, and took a bite. “Actually, that was all I did,” he replied, the first couple words garbled as he talked around his food. “I guess Heathcliff just remembers what I told you back when we first met: you gotta take some time off once in a while, or you'll burn out.”

“Yeah, sure. Like you ever do that?” Asuna allowed herself an unladylike snort. “I do check in with Argo regularly, Kirito-kun. I know you and Kizmel-chan are always up to something—even if I think your priorities could use some work.”

The look on his face was well worth the admission of what could be construed as stalking. There were times she questioned whether her old partner had any sense of self-preservation at all, but she knew he did fear two things in Aincrad: losing party members, and Argo's wealth of blackmail material.

I bet she's adding to it tonight, too, she thought, eyeing Kirito's outfit. Usually, she knew, he still preferred to look the part of the morally-dubious rogue, the better to be a scapegoat. Tonight Aincrad's most infamous player was decked out in a fancy suit, and if it was dark and the tailcoat was long enough to pass for his usual tastes, that was where the resemblance to his normal self ended. It's almost enough to make me wish I had more time to think about that kind of thing.

Almost.

They'd gone through another piece of cake each before Kirito managed any kind of retort. Leaning back in his chair with a lackadaisical air that belied his formal attire, he shot Asuna and aggrieved look. “Okay, fine, so maybe we're usually busy, too. But what do you mean, 'skewed priorities'?”

Asuna hesitated. She'd only meant it as a comeback, and it was touching on more serious things than she really wanted to think about tonight. Still… “You and Kizmel-chan have been disappearing to follow sidequests pretty often the last few months,” she pointed out carefully. “Like the Reliquary quest back on the Thirty-Seventh Floor. And just what were you up to during the clearing of the Forty-Third? I can't even get Argo to say anything about that.”

She'd tried hard, too. No matter what price she offered, though, the Rat claimed Kirito had upped what he was paying for her silence, and eventually that Kizmel had added double herself. Which in Asuna's experience meant either Argo was trying to cover for one of the rare occasions she didn't actually know something, or it really was juicy enough for the pair to be desperate to keep it quiet.

“That's nothing you need to worry about,” Kirito said now, looking away; toward Viscount Yofilis and his children, who were having a quiet but obviously happy dinner at another table. Her old partner watched them for a long moment, though what he was thinking about Asuna couldn't guess. “It was just… something Kizmel and I had to deal with, that's all.”

Asuna thought pressing him on it, but only briefly. Argo could be bribed; if Kirito really didn't want to talk about something, it was like getting water from a stone. “Fine,” she huffed. “But that just proves my point, you know: you're letting yourself get distracted from clearing. Just like a year ago.”

That got his attention, and he brought his gaze back to hers with a frown. “A year ago…? Asuna, you can't be talking about…?”

“This, Kirito-kun. Well,” she amended, glancing at Yofilis herself now, “not this, coming here did probably save the raid that time… But in general. Kirito-kun, I'm as happy as you are to have met Kizmel-chan, and I don't regret saving her back then. I'm really glad she's a Swordmaster now. But you remember as well as I do how that quest ended.”

From the look in his dark eyes, Kirito remembered quite well. The horror of the siege on Lyusula's capital, their desperate assault on the Fallen Elves' Twilight Citadel. The running battle inside, against the twisted Fallen and their poisoned blades, as the handful of Dark Elves who'd come in with them fell one by one.

The nightmarish battle with the King, which had taken everything they had, and nearly cost them more.

“We almost died there, Kirito-kun,” she said softly, pushing back those memories. “It meant everything to Kizmel-chan, I know, but we almost died—and for something that had nothing to do with clearing the game. We almost died, and it would've been for nothing.”

For a long, long pause, Kirito was silent. He picked up a glass from the table, filled with Kizmel's favored moontear wine, and spent as much time staring into it as drinking from it; long enough that Asuna started to think she really should've just kept her mouth shut. We are still moving forward, she reminded herself. We need Kirito-kun and Kizmel-chan, but I don't need to push right now. Not tonight…

At last, Kirito set down the glass again—and at that moment a chime rang out. Yofilis had risen from his chair and tapped a spoon against a crystal glass, drawing all eyes to him. “The hour grows late, my friends,” he called out, voice pitched to be heard throughout the hall. “Let us take this to the inner courtyard, and end this Yule Festival in the greatest spirits this Castle has seen in many years!”

With that, the viscount led the way to the double-doors leading outside, his family in tow. The other Dark Elves soon followed, and after a brief hesitation so did Fuurinkazan. Then Kirito rose, turned to Asuna, and in the most courtly fashion she'd seen outside of NPCs since coming to Aincrad extended a hand to her.

Wondering if he was being flippant, Asuna hesitantly allowed him to draw her to her feet, and though he promptly let go she readily matched his stride on the way out. “Kirito-kun…?”

“Let me ask you something,” he said softly. “Something I was asked a while back, by… Well, it doesn't really matter who it was. Asuna… what is this world to you?”

She looked at him in confusion. Is this some kind of joke…? But no, his eyes were as serious as she'd ever seen them. “It's a deathtrap,” she said finally. “What else would it be?”

“The answer I gave was 'prison', actually,” Kirito told her, a faint smile flickering across his face. Just as they passed through the doors to the courtyard, though, it was gone again, and he went on seriously, “But let's put it another way: what do you think this world is to Kizmel?”

“To Kizmel-chan?” Now Asuna was definitely confused. “Kirito-kun… what are you getting at…?”

“Just… think about it, Asuna.” He smiled again, an air of mystery in the expression. “We're trapped here, sure. But that doesn't mean we have to let that define how we look at this world.”

She wanted to question that. To ask him what he could possibly see in SAO other than death, after everything they'd gone through. After the Twilight Citadel, the Twenty-Fifth Floor boss raid, and the fall of the Moonlit Black Cats—to say nothing of the recent increase in PK incidents.

Asuna wanted to ask that, but the sight of what was waiting for them in the inner courtyard completely derailed that train of thought. It had been redecorated since the last time she'd been in Yofel Castle: the thorny hedges remained, the flowerbeds, the pale blue lanterns, the benches… The tree under which they'd first reunited with Kizmel was still there at the center, even. Yet something new completely distracted her from the remembered sights.

Tables had been added by the edges of the center garden, bearing what Asuna thought was roast goat. What really caught her eye, though, was the huge tree trunk in the center of it all, burning brightly against the deepening night.

It was obviously meant to be the center of the gathering. All around it was open space, in which elves started to gather in pairs; it reminded Asuna belatedly of exactly what the finale of the Yule Festival was supposed to be.

All thoughts of death and pain were chased out of her mind as music began to swell from elven instruments. “Beautiful,” she breathed. “Kirito-kun… this is amazing…”

“Yeah,” Kirito agreed softly, obviously taken in by the sight himself. “Kizmel told me a little about what this was supposed to be like, but—”

He cut off so abruptly it pulled Asuna out of the wonder, and she shot a concerned glance at her old partner. He was suddenly oddly stiff, looking at something just out of her sight. “Let us begin, my friends!” Yofilis called out, as Asuna tried to spot whatever had stunned Kirito. “After so long under threat of war, let us put that all behind us tonight, with the first Yule Dance our home has seen in many years!”

…Oh! Finally catching sight of the figure approaching from the other end of the garden, Asuna covered her mouth to hide a smile and giggle. Oh, my, she thought, watching a certain Dark Elf approach. Kirito-kun… just how are you going to handle this one? Argo, please tell me you've got a recording crystal!

Kirito had thought himself well-used to his partner's appearance by now, having seen her in as much as full armor and as little as nothing at all. She might still have been able to fluster him well enough, if she pushed it, but he hadn't thought she'd be able to really surprise him anymore.

Seeing her step out into Yofel Castle's inner courtyard, lit by moonlight reflecting off the floor above, the garden's blue lanterns, and the fire of the Yule Tree did it. Purple tunic and tights, much like what she normally wore beneath her armor but much more elaborate, tall boots and elbow-length gloves, decorated here and there with black roses—it was close to what he was used to seeing her in, yet different enough that he found himself suddenly speechless.

He was vaguely aware that he'd just been saying something to Asuna, but just then it seemed utterly unimportant next to the sight approaching now.

“Good evening, Kirito, Asuna,” Kizmel said, when she'd gotten close. She inclined her head to the Knight, then turned her gaze on Kirito; he felt suddenly self-conscious as she took in his own formal suit. Especially when she smiled, just a hint of a blush on her dusky skin. “I hope I haven't kept you waiting too long. I'd hoped to join you for the meal, but the staff took longer than I expected with my clothing for the evening.”

“Not at all, Kizmel-chan,” Asuna assured her. “Kirito-kun and I were just catching up, that's all.” She giggled. “I'd say the wait was worth it anyway. Right, Kirito-kun?”

The elbow she not-so-subtly jabbed into his ribs jolted Kirito out of his immobility. “Uh, yeah!” he blurted. “You, er, look very nice, Kizmel.”

Smooth, a corner of his mind snarked at the rest. Really smooth… Huh?

“Thank you, Kirito.” It might've been his imagination, but he thought Kizmel's smile widened just a hair. “You as well, my friend.” She chuckled, raising one gloved hand to cover it. “It would seem the staff here knows you well; perhaps we have been here a little too often.”

Yeah, and that's another thing that weirds me out. They shouldn't be keeping track of my equipment habits like that… but I guess that doesn't really matter right now.

Realizing he'd been struck silent again, Kirito cleared his throat, floundering for a topic; somehow he was feeling much less confident around his partner than usual. “So… do you want to go back inside and get something to eat, since you missed dinner? There should still be some left…”

Kizmel shook her head. “No, I'm fine for now. We can always return later. Now is not the time for dining, is it?” She gestured toward the cleared space around the Yule Tree.

Kirito glanced over and started, reminded now of what he'd been told earlier. Elven musicians had begun a tune he found oddly familiar, while most of the elves had split off into pairs in that open space. …Oh. Right. She told me about this the other day, didn't she?

So… what the heck do I do now, anyway?

Actually, odd feeling in his stomach aside, Kirito had a pretty good idea of what he was supposed to do now. He wasn't used to socializing; that didn't mean he didn't know anything about it. Even to him, some things were pretty obvious.

The question was, could he make the first move without bursting into flames? Noticing Fuurinkazan gathering on the benches around the garden, along with Argo—whose presence made him nervous on general principles, never mind the expression currently on her face—didn't help.

But Kizmel was only standing there patiently, waiting with a reassuring smile as he got his act together.

Asuna was less patient. Even so, Kirito could almost thank her for jabbing him in the ribs again, prodding him forward. “Er, Kizmel,” he began awkwardly, fumbling for the right words, “may I have this dance?”

“I'd be delighted, Kirito,” she answered at once, smile definitely widening now. She extended a hand. “Shall we?”

On the one hand, it was all worth it to see the expression on Asuna's face change from amused anticipation—the look of someone expecting him to trip over his own feet—to open-mouthed surprise when he took Kizmel's hand. Holding her right hand with his left, he placed his right hand on her waist while her left settled on his shoulder.

Didn't think I knew how to dance, huh, Asuna? Kirito thought, leading Kizmel out into the space cleared for the Yule Dance. Not that I'm going to admit how I learned it… That he'd been that determined to clear a particular quest in an early offline VRRPG was something he wasn't quite willing to admit to anyone—especially not anyone who was friends with Argo.

On the other hand… This was the first time he'd ever danced with someone who wasn't definitively a soulless NPC, uncaring of the closeness of the situation. It was one thing to dance with a true NPC, whose actions were completely scripted; it was something else entirely to do it with his partner and best friend.

Or is it? The thought nagged at Kirito as he led Kizmel in the ballroom dance. One way or another, she's an AI, too… right? He was quickly realizing he was actually the better dancer; Kizmel's steps were more hesitant at first, and her eyes were following his feet more than his face. With each step, she got a little better—obviously learning as she went, not something she was programmed to do.

That was made all the clearer when she actually stepped on his foot, an action no pre-programmed algorithm was likely to include. Yet…

A learning program would make mistakes along the way, too. Especially with a human partner as an irregular element. So how is this any different from any high-level AI? Leaving aside whether it makes sense to devote that kind of processing power to a quest NPC.

A step to one side, then the other. Kizmel's movements were beginning to even out, just in time for them smoothly slip past Viscount Yofilis and his wife. She spared the Castle's master a sheepish smile at the close call, and finally brought her gaze up to Kirito's.

He almost stumbled then, seeing again in her violet eyes that indefinable something that had always set her apart from other NPCs.

“Just one copy made from a mold, Kirito? Are you really so sure about that?”

The voice of Diavel's shade, asking one of the questions that had shaken Kirito's entire worldview. The half of the Trial of the Wise that he hadn't been able to answer that day. It echoed in his mind, even as he let go of Kizmel's waist to twirl around her, ingrained reflex moving his feet to the music.

“There is truth in how you see it, Kirito—yet maybe not as much as you think. Or maybe you're not looking at it the right way. Think back to when you met—to what she's told you. Think about it, and ask yourself: are those really signs of interchangeable copies? Or is there something more?”

“…I don't understand.”

“I don't have the answer either, Kirito. Perhaps not even the crimson bird knows the truth. But consider it. The truth may not be so simple as you think…”

Kirito thought about it now, drawing Kizmel closer again. Looked into those violet eyes, and remembered the days of the beta, when she'd followed the same rote actions every time. Remembered when he'd met her again in the death game, and everything had changed.

He was startled when a voice suddenly rose to join the elves' music, singing a wordless song alongside the melody. As one, he and his partner glanced off to the side, to see Sachi on her feet; drifting closer to the musicians, it was her voice that added the new element to the waltz. Impromptu, unasked, but none of the elves objected as she added to the harmony.

Kirito hadn't even known Sachi could sing—but looking at the soft smile on Kizmel's face, he realized the elf girl had. Those nights of “girl talk”, he thought now. Talking about little things… things no ordinary NPC would ever think of.

She could still be. This could all be just programming. But… it doesn't make any sense. Not even for Kayaba's dream. So…

I can't keep worrying about that all the time. I don't have the answers. I just know what it's been like, traveling with her through this world. It doesn't matter if she's AI or anything else. Kizmel is… my partner.

My friend.

Yeah. That sounded right. In this world where death was real for them all, it didn't matter who anyone was before, or where they came from. Asuna, Klein, Sachi, himself… In this world, who was to say an elf who fought by their side through thick and thin was any less a person than they were?

A tension he hadn't quite realized was there went out of Kirito's shoulders, and his own dance steps smoothed out just a little more as well. He almost stumbled right after anyway, as a laughing Dark Elf child darted across the garden, weaving through the dancers without a care.

When he recovered, he found himself meeting Kizmel's gaze again. With a start, he realized she'd been watching him the whole time—and she'd seen the change in his stance. “Kirito,” she murmured, barely audible even to his ears. “How do you really see this world?”

“What is this world to you?” Diavel's other question echoed in his ears.

“A prison,” Kirito had answered, baffled by the question.

“What do you think Lady Kizmel, a person born of this world, regards Aincrad as?”

Those questions, he'd been able to answer that day. To Kizmel, of course, Aincrad was home. And now, Kirito had another answer of his own. If he could just take the risk of saying it…

“I can't see this world as anything other than constructed,” he whispered back, forcing himself to be honest. If she was his partner, his friend, she deserved that. No matter the consequences. “But… a lot of people would say my world was made by a higher power, too. That doesn't make it, or everyone in it, a dream. Or fake.”

It wasn't the whole truth. He wanted to believe he only left it at that because he didn't think she'd understand, not because he was afraid—but it was still the truth.

For a long moment, there was only the step to one side, then to the other, as she stared into his eyes. Then, finally, she nodded, a smile playing at her lips. “Then that's enough for now, my friend.”

Kirito wanted to ask what that was supposed to mean, and at the same time was afraid to ask. Either way, he didn't have the chance. The music was picking up, building toward a crescendo; Sachi's singing had taken on lyrics, which he couldn't quite make out. And Kizmel was suddenly pouring more enthusiasm into the dance, matching him step for step, pushing him to use every bit of his own hard-won skill.

Releasing each other, they stepped around one another, back to back, in time with the other dancers—yet with just a bit of a slip in timing, compared to programmed perfection—and then Kirito caught Kizmel's hand again, guiding her through repeated, graceful twirls.

The music reached its climax, Kizmel spun back into step with him, and he finally realized Sachi's song was in English, a language he hadn't known she knew. He suspected the words weren't meant for the elves' tune, but she somehow matched them to it anyway.

“...I'll be home for Christmas… if only in my dreams…”

Elven instruments and human voice alike fell silent. Kirito and his partner came to a stop with it, just beneath one of the trees at the edge of the garden—and Kizmel slipped from the hold of the dance into a close embrace, resting her chin on his shoulder.

Startled yet again, as he'd been so many times tonight, it felt strangely natural to match the gesture, his arms around her back, chin on her shoulder. His virtual heartbeat picked up; he could smell Kizmel's familiar pine scent, now with a strange touch of sakura blossoms.

Any thought of her being a dream was driven completely out of his head. Right then, for reasons he couldn't grasp, this was the only reality that mattered.

He could hear her breathing beside his ear, felt her heart beating against his chest. As fast as his own was going, it took him a moment to realize hers had sped up as well; she shifted against him in a way that made him uncomfortably aware of her body.

Kirito didn't know if he was relieved or disappointed when Kizmel pulled back, just far enough to look him in the eye. He didn't know if it was embarrassment or something else that made him feel warm at the blush on her face. But when she spoke…

“Kirito… I believe, as Argo would say, we've been 'had'.”

He blinked. “Eh?” Following her gaze, he spotted the Rat herself, grinning widely, hands tucked suspiciously behind her back; next to her was Asuna, the vice-commander blushing for the first time he could remember seeing in a long while. On Argo's other side, a grinning Klein, giving him a thumbs-up.

Kizmel was right. Argo was up to something. But what—?

With a lift of her chin, the elf girl directed his gaze upward, to the branches of the tree above them. And to the innocuous leaves hanging down from otherwise barren branches.

Then, and only then, did Kirito remember one last Western Christmas tradition that had completely slipped his mind, when he'd explained the holiday to his partner. The realization set his face on fire; he jerked his eyes down from the damning plant, inadvertently meeting Kizmel's gaze again—

She was blushing, too. But she was smiling, and her head was tilting to one side as she slowly leaned in toward him; at the same time, without conscious thought, his hand came up to rest on the back of her neck.

He didn't know what he was doing. Before Aincrad, he would never have dreamed of doing something like this. But…

Eyes drifting closed, Kizmel crossed the last of the distance—or maybe he met her halfway. He was never sure, later. “Merry Christmas, Kirito,” she whispered, and her lips met his.

…Wow…

December 31st, 2023

The Forty-Ninth Floor of Aincrad was a beautiful place, Kizmel had to admit. Containing mostly open plains, with a few low hills bearing the entrances to ancient catacombs scattered around, the towns and cities were built of smooth, polished stone. Quartezia in particular, the city closest to the Pillar of the Heavens, was notable for its graceful towers, reaching much of the way to the floor above.

Quartezia was also close to the edge, and Kizmel stood now atop one of the farthest towers, allowing her a breathtaking view of the sky. From here, she could see so many of the stars normally hidden by Aincrad's structure—the stars, and the full moon gleaming over the city.

It's almost the New Year, she thought, resting her arms on the railing ringing the tower's roof. The second the Swordmasters have seen since they came to this place. Little more than a full year that they've been here, and so much has changed…