Warmth of the Heart

48th Floor Of Aincrad June 2024

The workshop was filled with a pleasing sound: the slow churning

of a giant water wheel.

It was a modestly sized home for a crafter, but the water wheel

made it expensive. When I first spotted the house in the initial

rush into Lindarth, the main town of the forty-eighth floor, I

thought, This is the one! Then I saw the price tag and my jaw

dropped.

From that point on, I worked myself to the bone, even taking

out multiple loans at once. In just two months, I raised the three

million col I needed. If this were happening in real life, I'd be covered in muscles, and my right hand would have thick calluses

from swinging a hammer so much.

But it was all worth it when I beat out my rivals to purchase

the deed, turning this little watermill into Lisbeth's Armory. It all

happened three months ago, on a chilly day for spring.

After a rushed morning coffee—thank goodness this exists in Aincrad—serenaded by the music of the water wheel's rhythmic

thumping, I changed into my blacksmith's uniform, inspecting

myself in the full-length mirror on the wall.

Though I considered it a uniform, it was closer to a waitress

outfit than heavy smithing garb. There was a cypress-brown top

with puffed sleeves and a flared skirt in the same tone. I wore a

white apron over that, with a red ribbon on the chest.

The outfit wasn't my own design. A friend of mine had

arranged it, another girl the same age who often visited the shop

to buy equipment. She claimed that heavy clothes didn't suit my

baby face, and while I'd originally wanted her to mind her own

business, it was true that my business had doubled since I started

wearing this. So while it wasn't really my first choice, I'd been

using it ever since.

Her advice didn't stop at clothes. She fiddled with my hair at

every opportunity—it was currently set to an aggressively pink

color in a short cut. Once again, though, the reactions from others

suggested that it was working for me.

I'm Lisbeth the blacksmith, and I was fifteen when I first

logged in to SAO. People thought I was younger than I looked

back in the real world, and that pattern only grew more pronounced here. What I saw in the mirror was pink hair, large eyes

with dark blue irises, and a petite nose and mouth that, combined

with the apron dress, made me look like a little doll.

I was a serious student in the real world with little interest in

fashion, which only made the dichotomy stronger. Even though

I've gotten used to my new look recently, my personality has always been the same. Every once in a while, I can't help but snap

at a customer, which always elicits shock.

I double-checked my equipment and exited the store, flipping

over the CLOSED sign. I flashed the players waiting for entrance a

dazzling smile and said, "Good morning, and welcome!" This was

another thing I'd only recently gotten used to doing.

It had always been a dream of mine to run my own business,

but even inside a video game, dreams and reality are very different beasts. I'd had more than enough experience with the difficulty of meeting customer demand from the moment I started

selling in the street and living out of an inn bedroom.

My first lesson: If you're not good at smiling, make up for it

with quality. In retrospect, the decision to focus on raising my

Weapon crafting skill at the expense of everything else was a wise

one, as many of my repeat customers vouched for the quality of

my weapons, even after I moved into my permanent storefront.

After I greeted all the customers, I left the business end up to

my NPC employee and retreated into the workshop behind the

storefront. I had about ten orders for custom equipment that

needed to be fulfilled within the day.

Pulling the lever on the wall activated the bellows hooked up

to the water wheel. That sent air into the furnace and set the

grindstone spinning. I pulled an expensive metal ingot out of my

inventory and tossed it into the burning furnace. Once it had absorbed enough heat, I pulled it out with tongs and set it atop the

anvil. I got down on one knee, favorite hammer in hand, and selected the item to be produced from a pop-up menu. After a specified number of whacks with the hammer, the metal would turn

into the desired item. There wasn't really any technique to it; the

quality of the finished weapon would vary at random, but I chose

to believe that the concentration of the blacksmith during the

process affected the result. So I focused all my nerves on the ingot

as I slowly raised the hammer. Just as I was about to strike the

very first blow—

"Morning, Liz!"

"Aaah!"

The door of the workshop slammed open and my swing went

wide. Instead of the ingot, I hit the corner of the anvil. Sparks

flew everywhere as a pathetic clang echoed throughout the room.

I looked up to see the surprise intruder scratching her head

and sticking out her tongue in guilty embarrassment.

"Sorry! I'll be more careful about that."

"How many times have I heard that one before? At least it

happened before I actually started working on anything this

time."

I stood up with a sigh and tossed the metal back into the furnace. Turning around with my hands on my hips, I looked up at

my visitor, who was just a bit taller than me.

"Good morning, Asuna."

Asuna the fencer was a good friend and loyal customer. She

wound her way through the now-familiar workshop and plopped

into a round chair of unfinished wood, then flicked her shoulderlength chestnut hair with her fingertips. Every motion was as

pristine as a movie star's, and despite having known her for many

months, I couldn't help but admire her grace each and every time.

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

"So what's happening today? You're here early."

"Oh, I need this done."

She pulled the rapier off her belt, scabbard and all, and tossed

it to me. I caught it one-handed and drew it out enough to check

the blade. Its typical sheen was dulled with use, but the edge was

still sharp.

"This isn't that bad at all. Seems a bit early to have it sharpened."

"Yeah, I know, but I want it to be shiny."

"Oh?"

I looked at Asuna again. She was wearing the same old

knight's uniform of white with red crosses and a miniskirt, but

her boots looked shiny and new, and there were small silver earrings sparkling in her ears.

"Okay, something's weird. This is a normal weekday. What

happened to your mandated guild activity quota? I thought you

said progress was slow on the sixty-third floor."

She smiled shyly at my question. "Actually, I got the day off.

I'm going to meet someone after this…"

"Ohh~?"

I dragged the chair several clattering steps closer to Asuna.

"Tell me more. Who are you meeting?"

"I-it's a secret!" she stammered, blushing slightly. I folded my

arms and nodded.

"I see…No wonder you've been so cheerful lately. You've finally found a boyfriend."

"Th-that's not it at all!" Now her face was really red. She

coughed and gave me a sidelong glance. "Am I…really that different from normal…?"

"Of course. When I first met you, all you cared about was

labyrinths this, conquest that! I thought you were a bit obsessed,

honestly, but you've changed since the spring. I mean, I could

never imagine you skipping out on your game-clearing on a weekday before."

"I see…Maybe he is rubbing off on me…"

"So who is it? Someone I know?"

"I don't…think so…but maybe?"

"Bring him next time."

"I swear, it's not like that! I mean…it's totally one-sided…"

"Really!"

This time I was truly stunned. Asuna was the sub-leader of the

strongest guild in the game, the Knights of the Blood, and one of

the most beautiful women in Aincrad. There were as many men

who courted her as stars in the sky, but I'd never imagined the

opposite would happen.

"I don't know. He's very strange," she said, gazing into the distance. A slight smile played across her lips. If this were a manga

for girls, there would be an explosion of roses in the background.

"It's really hard to get a handle on him. It's like he goes to the

beat of his own drum…but he's incredibly powerful."

"Oh? More than you?"

"Way more. I wouldn't last for a minute in a head-to-head

duel."

"Well, well. This narrows down the list of names."

I consulted my mental registry of famous clearers while Asuna

hastily waved her hands.

"Y-you don't have to guess!"

"In that case, I'll just have to look forward to the day you show

him to me. Feel free to put in a good word about me if he has any

weapons needs!"

"You're always looking out for your business, Liz. I'll tell him

about your work…Oh, crap! Can you sharpen that now?"

"Sure thing. Just give me a second."

I stood up with Asuna's rapier in hand and walked over to the

grindstone in the corner of the room.

The thin blade was housed in a red scabbard. It was a rapier

named Lambent Light and was among the greatest of all the

weapons I'd handled in SAO. Even with the finest materials, the

finest hammer, and the finest anvil I could find, the random nature of the crafting process ensured a range of potential quality. If

I was lucky, I might craft a blade this fine once every three

months.

I cradled the sword with both hands and lowered it to the

slowly spinning grindstone. There was no real technique to

sharpening a weapon—you simply held it to the stone long

enough for the process to finish—but a masterpiece of this quality

demanded to be handled with proper respect.

I slid the blade carefully across the stone from hilt to tip. The

process produced a cool metallic noise and orange sparks, and

the silver metal began to regain its former gleam. By the time I

was finished honing it, the rapier was practically a translucent silver, glittering in the morning sunlight.

I popped the weapon into its sheath and tossed it back to

Asuna, then caught between my fingertips the hundred-col coin

that came flying back.

"Thanks, come again!"

"Next time I'll need you to do my armor, too. But I'm in a rush

today, so this is all for now." Asuna stood up and hung the rapier

from her sword belt.

"Now I'm really curious. Maybe I should tag along."

"What? N-no!"

"Ha-ha-ha, I'm just kidding. But you'll bring him here sometime, won't you?"

"S-sometime."

Asuna waved and darted out of the workshop as though fleeing. I heaved a sigh and sat back in my chair.

"…Lucky."

I was surprised at the word that escaped my lips.

I wasn't really one for moping. In the year and a half I'd spent

here, I'd poured all of my enthusiasm into building this business

out of nothing, but now that I'd practically mastered my Blacksmithing skill and set up my own shop, I was running out of personal goals and found myself lonely from time to time.

There are few girls in Aincrad, so I've received my share of

suitors, but I never felt in the mood. I'd rather have someone who

I loved myself. In that sense, I was jealous of Asuna.

"If only some kind of wonderful matchmaking event happened

for me, too," I muttered, then shook my head to clear it. I stood

up and retrieved the glowing red ingot from the furnace, placing

it back on the anvil. This is the only lover I need for now, I told

myself as I swung the hammer down.

Normally the rhythmic clanging echoing throughout the workshop cleared my head, but today it couldn't get rid of the cobwebs.

It was the next afternoon that the man came to my shop.

I'd stayed up too late trying to finish up all my orders the previous day, so I was napping in the large rocking chair on the

porch of the store.

The dream was about elementary school. I was a good, hardworking student, but I always felt drowsy in the first class after

lunch, and the teacher often had to snap me awake.

That teacher was a favorite of mine, a young man fresh out of

college. I was embarrassed to be scolded for sleeping, but I kind

of liked the way he woke me up. He'd place a gentle hand on my

shoulder and in a low, calm voice—

"Uh, hey…"

"Y-yes! I'm sorry!"

"Whoa—?!"

I bolted upright as though on springs and shouted, only to find

standing before me a male player with a startled expression on

his face.

"Huh…?"

I looked around. It wasn't my classroom, packed with rows of

desks. There was only a road lined with trees, a waterway surrounding the wide stone path, and a lawn of grass. It was Lindarth, my second home.

Apparently I'd drifted off to sleep for the first time in ages. I

coughed to hide my embarrassment and turned to my potential

customer.

"W-welcome to my store. Is there a particular weapon you're

looking for today?"

"Uh, y-yeah," he replied, nodding.

At a glance, he didn't seem that powerful. He might have been

slightly older than me. He had black hair and a monochrome outfit of a black shirt, black pants, black boots. A single sword was

slung over his back. The weapons I sold required high attributes

to wield, and I was concerned that he didn't have a high-enough

level to wield them, but I showed him in anyway.

"My one-handed swords are over in this case."

I showed him the display containing all my pre-made models,

but he smiled awkwardly and cut me off.

"Er, actually, I'm looking to do a custom order…"

Now I was really worried. Made-to-order weapons with special

materials were exorbitantly priced. He was looking at a six-digit

cost, at least. I never liked seeing people turn red or white after I

showed them what their orders would cost, so I tried to head him

off before we reached that uncomfortable point.

"The market for metals is rather pricy these days, so it will be a

considerable cost," I began, but I was shocked by what the man in

black said next.

"Don't worry about the budget. I just want the best sword you

can possibly make."

"…"

I stared at him, stunned, but somehow or another managed to

find my voice again.

"…All right, but…I need to know what properties, what stats

you're looking for…"

My tone had lost a bit of its civility, but he didn't seem to

mind.

"Oh, good point. In that case…"

He pulled the sword harness off his back entirely and handed

it to me. "How about something at least as good as this?"

It didn't look all that fancy. It had a black leather hilt and a

scabbard of the same color. But the instant I held it in my hand—

It's so heavy!!

—I nearly dropped the blade. This thing must have required a

phenomenal amount of strength. As a blacksmith and macewielder, I'd built my strength stat up fairly high, but there was no

way even I could swing this sword.

I pulled it out of the scabbard with hesitation and found a

thick, meaty blade nearly black in color. One look told me this

was an extremely well-crafted weapon. I clicked the blade with a

fingertip to bring up a menu. CATEGORY: LONG SWORD/ONEHANDED, NAME: ELUCIDATOR. There was nothing listed in the

"crafted by" field. A fellow player had not created this.

The weapons of Aincrad fall into two large categories.

One is the "player-made" weapons created by blacksmiths

within the game. The other is "monster drops," weapons earned

through adventuring. As you might imagine, we smiths don't

think much of dropped weapons. Some of us even use the terms

of -brand or generic to describe them.

But this was clearly very rare, even among dropped loot. Nor-

mally, player-made weapons were higher in average quality than

those dropped by enemies, but every once in a while, you found a

truly monstrous blade among them…or so I heard.

At any rate, this had certainly gotten my competitive juices

flowing. If I was a master smith, I couldn't afford to be shown up

by a stupid looted item.

I handed the heavy sword back to him, then pulled down the

single longsword I had on display on the back wall. It was my

greatest masterpiece to date, forged about two weeks earlier. The

blade glowed a dull red, as though rippling with a gentle flame.

"This is my best sword so far. I doubt it's inferior to yours."

He took my crimson blade and swished it about in the air, then

tilted his head in puzzlement.

"A bit on the light side."

"…Well, the metal I used is meant for speed…"

"Hmmm."

He swung it a few more times, clearly unsure of it, then turned

his gaze on me.

"Can I test it out?"

"Test it…?"

"The durability."

He pulled out his own sword, then laid it flat on the shop

counter. Standing still over it, he slowly lifted my glowing red

blade…

I hurriedly called out when I realized what he was about to do.

"W-wait, don't! If you do that, you'll break your sword in

two!!"

"And that'll prove it's inferior. If it happens, it happens."

"But…"

I swallowed my protest. There was a sharp light in his eyes as

he held the blade overhead. The red sword suddenly glowed with

a pale blue visual effect.

"Seya!"

He brought it down with a flash. Before I could blink, sword

met sword, and the shop rattled with the shock. The explosion of

light was so fierce, I had to narrow my eyes and take a step back.

The blade split cleanly down the middle and burst into pieces.

Not his sword. My masterpiece.

"Aaaaagh!!"

I screamed and leaped onto his arm, wrenching the lower half

of the sword away from him and scrambling about for the pieces.

There's no fixing this.

I slumped my shoulders in despair, and a moment later, the

half sword in my hand burst into polygons and vanished. After

several seconds of silence, I looked up.

"What," I snarled as I grabbed the collar of his shirt, "the hell

was that?! You can't just go around breaking people's stuff!"

He jerked his face away in panic.

"S-sorry! I didn't think the sword I was holding would

break…"

I snapped.

"Meaning my sword was even weaker than you thought it

would be?!"

"Huh? Uh, um, well…yes."

"You admit it! You've got some nerve!!"

I put my hands on my hips and leaned forward.

"W-well, I'll have you know that if I get the right materials, I

can make a sword that will crush your stupid sword like an insignificant twig!"

"Oh?" He grinned at the bravado. "Well, that's the one I want,

then. A sword that will snap mine like a twig."

He grabbed the black sword off the counter and sheathed it.

Now the blood was truly rushing to my head.

"Well, if we're really doing this, I'll be involved in every step!

Starting with retrieving the metals!"

My brain was screaming at me to stop, but it was too late now.

His eyebrows rose and he cast an openly appraising gaze at me.

"Well…I don't mind. But wouldn't it be better if I got them myself? I don't want anyone dragging me down."

"Arrgh!!"

Could anyone be more irritating? I waved my arms wildly,

stomping like a child having a tantrum.

"D-don't you dare humiliate me! I'm a master weaponscrafter, I'll have you know!"

"You are?" He whistled, clearly enjoying himself. "In that case,

I ought to observe a master at work. I'll start by paying you for

the last sword."

"I don't need your sympathy! Once I make one better than

yours, I'll make sure you pay through the nose for it!"

"And I'll do it gladly. My name's Kirito. Nice to meet you, at

least until this sword is finished."

I folded my arms and turned my head in a huff.

"Likewise, Kirito."

"Really? Not even a 'Mr.'? Fine, Lisbeth."

"Argh!!"

It was the worst possible way to form a new party.

2

It was just ten days prior that word of the mysterious metal

spread throughout the blacksmiths of SAO.

Reaching the top floor of Aincrad was the grand quest, the ultimate goal of all, but there was an unlimited array of other

quests to be undertaken, big and small. NPCs needed errands

run, or protective detail, or certain items tracked down, but the

rewards were never more than middling, and once an individual

quest was finished, there was a cooldown period before it was

available again. On top of that, some quests could only ever be

completed once, by a single person, and everyone was on the

lookout for those.

One such unique quest was spotted in a small village tucked

away in a corner of the fifty-fifth floor. According to the bearded

old chieftain, a white dragon dwelt in the mountains to the west.

The dragon fed on crystals, which coalesced into a valuable metal

ore within its belly.

It was obviously a quest to obtain weaponcrafting materials.

Eager players formed a large raiding party and easily vanquished

the dragon in its mountain lair…

But nothing came of it. The beast dropped a paltry sum of col

and a few weak loot items, not even enough to pay for the potions

and healing crystals used in the battle.

The next assumption was that the metal must be a random

drop, so numerous parties approached the elder to initiate the

quest and vanquish the dragon in turn. But again, nothing. After

a week, white dragons had been slain in the dozens, but no one

ever came away with the elusive prize. The eventual consensus

was that there must be some hidden condition that no one had

yet successfully met during the quest.

The man named Kirito nodded, cross-legged in the workshop

chair, sipping on the tea I'd reluctantly made for him.

"I've heard that story, too. It's supposed to be quite a promising material for crafting. But no one's been able to get their hands

on it, right? What makes you think we can just waltz in and succeed where everyone else has failed?"

"Some people are guessing that it won't appear unless there's a

master smith in the party. And very few blacksmiths bother to

raise their combat skills."

"I see. Maybe that's worth trying, then. Well, we should get

going."

"…"

I was slack-jawed in disbelief.

"I can't believe you've survived with that attitude. We're not

going goblin hunting, you know! And we'll need a full party to—"

"But what if we actually get the stuff, and then have to draw

straws to see who gets it? Which floor did you say the dragon's

on?"

"The fifty-fifth."

"Hmm, well, I can probably handle it on my own. You just

hide where it's safe."

"…You're either very, very good or very, very stupid. But all

right—you're on. I suppose it'll be worth watching you cry and

teleport out to safety."

Kirito only snorted confidently, then downed the rest of his tea

and set the cup on the workbench.

"Well, I'm ready to go whenever you are. Lisbeth?"

"Look, if you're going to be so buddy-buddy, just call me Liz.

The dragon's mountain isn't supposed to be that big, and I hear

it's short enough that you can do it and come back within the day,

so I'll be ready in a minute."

I opened my window and equipped some simple armor over

my apron dress. My trusty mace was in my item screen, safe and

sound, and I had an adequate supply of crystals and potions.

When my screens were closed and I gave the okay sign, Kirito

stood up. We headed out the storefront—fortunately, there were

no waiting customers. I flipped the sign on the door to read

CLOSED.

The light streaming onto the porch from the outer perimeter

of Aincrad was still bright. There was plenty of time until nightfall. Whether we succeeded or failed at acquiring the precious

metal—and it would certainly be the latter—at least I'd be back

before too late in the day.

Or so I thought.

As we left the shop and headed for the teleport square, I

couldn't help but wonder, What in the world have I gotten myself into?

I didn't think much of the black-clad man strolling nonchalantly beside me. At least, I didn't think I did. His bold statements

irritated me, he was grandiose and overconfident, and he'd

smashed my greatest masterpiece to bits.

Yet here I was, walking next to him. Not only that, I'd agreed

to be in his party and go questing on a distant floor. In fact, as far

as life in Aincrad was concerned, this might as well be a da—

Better force that thought straight out of my mind. This had

never happened before. I was reasonably friendly with a few male

players, but I always had my reasons to avoid spending time with

them alone. I was afraid of crossing that line with any specific

man. I always told myself that if I was going to do it, it had to be

with someone I knew I loved.

But now I was here, walking with this strange guy. How had it

come to this?

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, Kirito noticed a food cart at the

side of the teleport square and rushed over to it. When he turned

around again, there was a large hot dog stuffed in his mouth.

"Whum fhum, Wiffbeff?"

My anxiety instantly vanished. Worrying about this seemed

pointless.

"Sure!"

And before the heavy aftertaste of the crispy hot dog—technically, a mystery food that only loosely resembled one—had left my

mouth, we finally came to stand in the tiny village on the north

end of the fifty-fifth floor.

The monsters along the way were no big deal.

Considering that the current frontier was the sixty-third floor,

the foes here should have been worrisome. But my level was in

the mid-60s, and for all his bluster, Kirito was pretty tough himself, and we made it through a handful of encounters with hardly

any damage.

My only mistake was not realizing this floor had an ice theme.

"Bwa-choo!"

The instant we stepped into the safe zone of the village and I

let down my guard, a massive sneeze exploded from my nose. The

other floors were in early summer, but here there was snow piled

on the ground and large icicles hanging from the roofs.

As I stood shivering in the bone-chilling cold, Kirito looked on

in exasperation.

"Don't you have any extra clothes?"

"…No."

Despite not being outfitted for winter weather himself, Kirito

fiddled with his menu, materialized a large black leather coat, and

tossed it over my head.

"Are you going to be able to handle the cold yourself?"

"Unlike you, I've got willpower."

He was so obnoxious. But the fur-lined coat was indeed warm,

and I could not resist its comforting embrace. The chill disappeared at once, and I sighed in relief.

"Well, which house do you suppose is the chief's?" Kirito

asked.

I looked around the small village and spotted one building

across the way that had a higher roof than the others.

"Is that it?"

"Looks like it."

We nodded and set off.

Several minutes later, our suspicions correct, we'd found the

NPC chieftain, outfitted with an impressive white beard, and

heard his story. Unfortunately, the story began with the rigors of

his childhood, proceeding through adolescence and adulthood

until his twilight years, stopping for a brief non sequitur to remark that, why yes, there was a dragon on the mountain to the

west. By the time he reached that crucial detail, the village outside was wreathed in twilight.

We left the chief's house, exhausted. The setting sun lit the

blanket of snow adorning all the buildings orange, a truly beautiful sight. But…

"I really didn't think getting the quest started was going to

take so long."

"Seriously…what should we do? Come back tomorrow?"

We traded glances.

"But he did say that the dragon was nocturnal. That's the

mountain over there, right?"

I looked where he was pointing and saw a treacherous, whitecapped peak not too far in the distance. Of course, due to the absolute physical limitations of each floor of Aincrad, the "peak"

could not be more than a hundred meters tall. It wouldn't be all

that difficult to scale.

"All right, let's go. Besides, I'd rather not wait to see you blubbering with fear."

"On the contrary, try not to have your mind blown by my

graceful sword work."

We turned our faces away from each other with simultaneous

huf s. But for some reason, our constant trading of insults was

starting to excite me…

I shook my head to clear my mind of that pointless thought

and started stalking my way through the heavy snow.

Although the mountain appeared steep from a distance, once we

actually got there, we had little trouble reaching the top. In retrospect, countless parties had scaled the mountain in the course of

attempting the quest, so it should have been obvious that it

wasn't very grueling.

Perhaps because of the time of day, the toughest monsters we

ran across were Frost Bones, an ice-type skeleton—but skeletons

were the perfect target for my crushing mace. The undead foes

fell apart with a satisfying clatter as I pounded them left and

right.

After climbing for most of an hour, we saw the peak right as

we circled around a particularly tall protrusion of ice.

The roof of the next floor up was just above our heads. All

around us, massive pillars of crystal jutted out from underneath

piles of snow. The last remains of purple light refracting into

rainbows through the crystals was spectacular.

"Wow…!"

I couldn't help but marvel in wonder, but Kirito grabbed my

collar from behind.

"Wghak! What was that for?"

"Get ready to use your teleport crystal, if necessary."

The look on his face was serious. I nodded automatically and

materialized the crystal from my inventory, placing it in my apron

pocket.

"I'll handle it from here on out—this will be dangerous. When

the dragon shows up, stay behind one of those giant crystals. And

don't come out."

"…What's the problem? I'm actually fairly high-level. I can

fight!"

"No!"

His black pupils stared straight into me, and in that instant I

understood that he was saying it for my sake. I held my breath

and nodded.

He flashed me a quick grin and placed a hand on my head before saying, "Okay, let's go." All I could do was give him another

nod.

It suddenly felt as though the air itself had changed color.

I'd come here with Kirito either in search of a change of pace

or out of simple reckless abandon—but I hadn't honestly considered that I was getting myself into a battle of life and death.

Well over half the experience I'd gained in the course of leveling up was from crafting equipment, and I'd never been in a

deadly battle.

But I could tell that Kirito was different. He had the eyes of

someone who put his life in the balance each and every day.

Trying to bring order to the emotions tearing me in different

directions, I walked behind him to the center of the mountaintop.

A quick look around showed no dragon yet. Instead, sitting in the

space between the ring of crystal pillars was…

"Whoa…"

An enormous hole. It had to be at least thirty feet across. The

sides of the hole were glittering with slick ice, and they seemed to

extend vertically into nothingness. It was too dark to see the bottom.

"Wow, that's deep…"

Kirito kicked a small piece of ice over the edge. I saw it flash as

it fell into the abyss, but no sound came back.

"Don't fall in."

"I'm not going to fall!" I retorted. In the next instant, a birdlike

screech rattled against the mountaintop, ripping through the air

dyed with the final strains of navy light.

"Get in the shadows!" Kirito commanded, pointing to a large

nearby crystal. I hurried to obey his command, turning to his

back as I ran.

"The, uh, the dragon's attack pattern is: claws from left and

right, ice breath, then a wind gale! B-be careful!"

I hurriedly tacked on that last part. Still facing away from me,

Kirito waved his left fist, the thumb boldly extended. At nearly

the same moment, the air before him rippled, a giant shape oozing out of the air.

Roughly rendered clumps of polygons materialized one after

the other. As they connected together and grew more detailed, a

giant body took shape—and unleashed another massive, rattling

roar. Countless tiny pieces flew in all directions, glittering as they

evaporated into nothingness.

The white dragon's scales shimmered like ice. It beat its enormous wings smoothly, hovering in the air. All in all, it was even

more beautiful than it was terrifying. Its large, ruby-like eyes

glared down at us from above.

Kirito calmly reached behind his back, loudly drawing his

ebony sword. As though that were the signal to begin, the dragon

opened its jaws wide and unleashed a blast of white with a roaring sound effect.

"Watch out, that's its breath attack!" I screamed, but Kirito did

not move. He stood boldly, his sword extended vertically.

Just as I thought, There's no way he can block that ice breath

with such a thin sword, the blade began spinning like a windmill

in his hand. Based on the light green haze enveloping the sword,

it must have been a skill. It was already too fast to see, like a

round shield made of light.

The ice breath bore down directly on the sword. There was a

white flash and I turned my eyes from it. But the cascade of freezing air simply bounced off of Kirito's erstwhile shield, dissipating

away.

I cast a hurried glance at Kirito to check his HP bar. The right

corner was steadily closing left, perhaps a sign that he wasn't

blocking the effects of the ice breath entirely. But to my amazement, it was healing back to full every few seconds. Battle Healing

was known as an ultra-high-level skill—and in order to increase

your proficiency with it, you had to take massive damage in battle, meaning that it was virtually impossible to safely power up

the skill.

Who is this guy…?

I wondered it once again. No one this powerful could not be a

clearer. But his name didn't appear in the registry of any of the

top guilds in the game, like the Knights of the Blood.

Suddenly, Kirito moved again as the breath attack tapered off.

He leaped at the airborne dragon with an explosion of snow.

The orthodox strategy against flying enemies is to attack them

with polearms or throwing weapons, forcing them to the ground,

where melee attacks will be effective. Impossibly enough, Kirito

jumped almost high enough to eclipse the dragon's head, launching into a one-handed combo in midair.

With high-pitched twanging noises, he spun into the dragon's

body faster than the eye could follow. The beast tried to fight back

with its claws, but the blows were simply too slow.

By the time Kirito finally landed back on the ground, the

dragon had lost a full 30 percent of its health.

It was overwhelming. A shiver ran down my spine at the impossibility of what I'd witnessed.

The dragon shot more ice breath at Kirito on the ground, but

this time he dashed to the side and leaped again. Instead of the

high-pitched combo, he pounded the beast with single, hammering blows. Each one tore large chunks off the monster's HP bar.

It was moving past the yellow zone into red now. One or two

more hits would finish the battle. I got to my feet, preparing to

give Kirito the honest recognition he deserved.

Just as I took a step out from behind the crystal pillar, Kirito

shouted, as though he had eyes in the back of his head.

"No, you idiot! Don't come out yet!!"

"Why not? It's all over. Just finish it—"

At that precise moment, the dragon beat its wings powerfully

from above. They clapped together loudly in front of its body,

sending the snow beneath the beast upward in a huge flurry.

"…?!"

A few yards in front of where I stood dumbfounded, Kirito

stuck his sword into the ground and tried to say something. The

next moment, he disappeared into the flurry and I was buffeted

up into the air by a wall of wind.

Damn…a gale attack!

I belatedly remembered the attack pattern I'd just spoken

aloud a minute ago as I spun through the air. Fortunately, the attack itself wasn't that strong, and I suffered very little damage. I

spread my arms to maintain balance as my landing approached.

Except that when the snow cleared, there was no ground

below.

It had knocked me directly over the gaping hole in the top of

the mountain.

My mind stopped working. My body froze.

"No way…" I mumbled as I fell, helplessly extending my hand

into space—

—only to have a black leather glove firmly snag my fingers.

I opened my eyes, dazed and unfocused.

"…!!"

Kirito had torn himself away from the distant battle with the

dragon, dashed back without a moment's hesitation, and grabbed

my hand in midair. I could feel him tug me up to his chest. His

other arm circled around my back and drew me close.

"Hang on!!" he shouted into my ear, and I squeezed both arms

around his torso. That was when we began to fall.

The two of us plunged straight down the center of the massive

hole, holding each other tight. The wind screamed in my ears, the

borrowed coat flapping around us.

If this hole extended all the way down to the lowest point of

this floor of Aincrad, we would undoubtedly die. The thought did

occur to me, but I couldn't feel it. I just stared upward, dazed, at

the shrinking circle of light above us.

Suddenly, Kirito moved his right hand, still clutching his

sword. He drew it back, then thrust forward. With a metallic gashunk, light exploded around us.

He was changing the angle of our fall by unleashing a heavy

thrust attack, driving us toward the wall of the pit. The sheer face

of blue ice grew closer. I gritted my teeth. Here it comes!

Before we crashed into the wall, Kirito swung again, jabbing

the sword as hard as he could into the ice. The collision set off

sparks like a weapon being touched to a grindstone. With a jolt,

our fall slowed but did not stop.

Kirito's sword continued to grind into the ice wall with a

screeching like the tearing of sheet metal. I craned my head to

look down in the direction of our descent—there was the snowpiled bottom of the pit. It was visibly approaching. Seconds left

before impact. I bit my lip to prevent myself from screaming and

clung to his body.

He let go of the sword, wrapped both arms around me, and

spun so that his back was facing downward. And then—

A shock. A blast.

The snow sent skyward by our landing drifted downward, melting

as it hit my cheek. The chill pulled my reeling senses back. I

opened my eyes—and there were Kirito's, black and deep at close

range.

One of his cheeks twitched into a pained grin. He still clung

tightly to me.

"…We survived."

I managed to nod. "Yeah…we survived."

We just lay there for several long moments—it could have been

minutes, for all I knew. I didn't want to move. His weight and

warmth made my head fuzzy.

But eventually he loosened his grip and slowly rose to a sitting

position. He returned his sword to its scabbard, then produced

two small bottles from the pouch on his waist and handed one to

me.

"You should drink that, just in case."

"Mm…"

I grunted and sat up, taking the bottle. I still had a third of my

health remaining, but Kirito, having taken the brunt of the fall,

was down in the red zone.

I pulled out the stopper and downed the sweetly sour liquid in

one go before turning to Kirito. It was hard to find the right

words to express myself.

"Um…th-thanks. For saving me…"

He gave me his usual wry, cynical smile.

"It's a little early to be saying that."

I looked upward.

"Well, we made it away from the dragon, at least, but how're

we gonna get out of this hole?"

"Uh…we teleport, of course." I rummaged through my apron

pockets for the blue crystal, then showed it to him. But…

"It's pointless. This was obviously built to be a fall-trap for

players. They're not going to make it that easy for us to escape."

"But…"

I shot him a determined glance, then chanted the command,

crystal in hand.

"Teleport: Lindarth!"

My order echoed weakly off the icy walls. The crystal's response was to sparkle silently. His expression unchanged, Kirito

gave a helpless shrug.

"If I'd been sure the crystal would work, I'd have tried it while

we were falling. I had a feeling this was an anti-crystal zone…"

"…"

I hung my head, then felt him plop a hand on it. He scrunched

my hair vigorously.

"Look, don't get depressed. The fact that the crystal won't

work is simply proof that there has to be a different way out."

"But you don't know that! It could be a trap designed so that

the fall kills its victims. I mean, we should have died."

"Oh…good point."

I slumped my shoulders in exasperation.

"Oh, come on! You aren't even going to try to cheer me up?!"

He grinned in response to my flared anger. "That angry face

suits you better, Liz. Keep it up."

"Wha—!"

He took his hand off my head and stood up, while I stiffened

with anger and embarrassment.

"Well, guess it's time to start testing stuff out…Any ideas?"

"…"

At this point I had no choice but to laugh off his lackadaisical

attitude. But doing so did make me feel a bit better, so I smacked

my cheeks and got to my feet.

A flat ice floor lightly coated with snow was the bottom of our

hole. The diameter of the hole was around ten meters, about the

same width as it was near the top. There was a pitiful amount of

light trickling down from a great distance above, reflecting off the

ice walls as it traveled down. Within minutes, it would be pitch

black.

There didn't seem to be anything like a passage out on either

the walls or the floor. I put my hands on my hips and rolled my

head around, desperately working my brain. I spoke the first idea

that popped into my mind.

"Umm…what if we called for help?"

"Wouldn't this count as a dungeon?" Kirito asked dismissively.

A player can send a "friend message" to anyone registered on

their friends list—for example, I could send one to Asuna—but

that function doesn't work in dungeons. There's also no way to

track location. I opened my messaging window just in case, but as

Kirito suggested, it was inaccessible.

"What if we yelled for other players who went hunting the

dragon?"

"We had to climb a good two hundred and fifty feet to get up

here. I don't think our voices will carry…"

"I see…well, where are your ideas, genius?" I snapped, frustrated that all of my suggestions were being shot down. The next

thing out of his mouth was preposterous.

"We'll run up the wall."

"…Are you stupid?"

"We won't know until we try…"

I watched, dumbfounded, as Kirito approached the wall, then

took off at full speed toward the opposite side. The snow on the

ground shot up in a flurry, his wind whipping into my face.

Just before he hit the wall, Kirito crouched, then exploded upward. He put his legs against the wall far above and started running on its surface, his body leaned forward at an incline.

"No…way…"

I stood stock-still, eyes and mouth agape, as Kirito ran around

the walls of the hole in a spiral pattern, like a ninja in some bad

American B-movie. He grew smaller and smaller—and then

slipped and lost his footing, around a third of the way up the wall.

"Aaaahh!"

He came falling down directly over my head, his arms flapping

uselessly.

"Whaaa—?!"

I leaped out of the way, and with a smack, there was suddenly

a human-shaped hole in the snow where I'd just been standing.

Precisely one minute later: Kirito was slumped against the wall,

his second potion stuck in his mouth. I sighed.

"You know, I always thought you were stupid, but this…?"

"I would have made it if I had a longer approach."

"No freakin' way," I muttered.

Kirito tossed his empty bottle back into his pouch, ignoring my

barb and stretching.

"Well, at any rate, it's too dark to try anything now. We'll have

to camp out. The one bright spot is that it doesn't look like any

monsters pop into this area."

The dying light of the sun was long gone now, and the bottom

of the hole was nearly entirely shrouded in darkness.

"Good point…"

"And on that note.…" Kirito popped open his menu and

started pulling items out of it. A large camping lantern. A cooking

pot. Several mysterious bags. Two mugs.

"Do you always carry this stuff around?"

"I spend the night in dungeons all the time."

This was apparently not a joke. He clicked on the lantern to

light it, absolutely straight-faced. With a faint poof, a bright orange light brightened the surroundings.

Kirito placed the small pot on top of the lantern, then shoveled

up some snow and tossed it in. He opened the small bags, emptied them into the pot, then put a lid on top and double-clicked it.

A cooking timer floated up.

The scent of herbs immediately tickled my nostrils. I hadn't

eaten a thing since those bites of hot dog earlier today. My stomach suddenly growled to life, as though just realizing it was hungry.

The timer dinged and disappeared. Kirito lifted the pot and

poured its contents into the two mugs.

"My Cooking skill is zero, so keep your expectations low."

"Thanks…"

I took the proffered cup and felt its warmth spread through my

hands. The contents were a simple soup of herbs and dried meat,

but they must have been high-quality ingredients, because it

tasted good enough. The heat of the meal slowly spread through

my chilled body.

"This is all…so weird. It's like it's not even real," I muttered

into my soup. "I'm here in an unfamiliar place…with an unfamiliar person…just sipping on soup together."

"Well, you're a crafter, Liz. But when you do lots of dungeoncrawling, you often have to camp out in impromptu parties with

people you meet along the way."

"Oh, really. Tell me about dungeons, then."

"W-well, um, I don't really have any great stories…Oh, but before that—"

He grabbed the empty cups and pot and shoved them back

into his menu, then rummaged around some more. This time he

produced two large bundles of cloth.

They appeared to be camping bedrolls. They resembled reallife sleeping bags but were much larger.

"These are high-class articles. They shut out the cold and have

a hiding effect that protects you from active monsters." He

grinned, tossing one to me. Laid out on the snow, it was large

enough to fit three of me inside.

"Seriously, I can't believe you carry all these things around.

And two of them…"

"Gotta make the most of your inventory space."

Kirito took off his equipment and dove into the left side of his

bedroll. I followed his lead, removing my coat and mace and slipping into the bag like it was a glove.

His boast wasn't empty; the inside really was warm. And it was

much softer than it looked.

We were facing each other a few feet apart, the lantern between us. I felt strangely shy about it. I decided to break the awkward silence.

"So, tell me a story."

"Uh, okay…"

Kirito folded his arms behind his head and began to speak.

There was the story of how he fell into an MPK trap—the act of

luring powerful monsters into a confrontation with other players

to kill them. There was also the tale of the boss monster with low

attack but extremely high defense, requiring the group to take

shifts sleeping while the others occupied the monster's attention,

a battle that took two whole days. And the story of a party of a

hundred fighters, who had to divvy up their spoils through a dice

competition…

They were all thrilling tales with a touch of humor to them.

And together, those tales told a story of their own: that Kirito was

indeed one of the clearers, the very best players in the game.

But if that was the case, the fates and lives of thousands of

players were resting on his shoulders from moment to moment.

He shouldn't be risking his life looking after the likes of me. Who

was I?

I rolled over to look at his face. His black eyes glittered with

the light of the lantern as he gazed back.

"Hey, Kirito…can I ask you something?"

"So polite, suddenly…What's up?"

"Why did you save me? There was no guarantee you'd survive

the fall. In fact, it was way more likely that we'd both die. So…

why…?"

His mouth tightened for an instant but relaxed just as quickly.

"If I had to watch someone die, I'd rather die with them. Especially if it was a girl like you, Liz," he responded calmly.

"You really are an idiot. No one else would be like that."

But despite my bold words, I could feel the tears threatening

to well up. Something twisted and pulled deep within my chest,

and I fought to calm myself.

It was the first time I'd heard such honest, straightforward,

heartwarming words since coming to this world.

In fact, I'd never even felt such kindness in the real world.

I could sense that pent-up longing for human contact, the

loneliness that had built up for months, forming into massive

waves that threatened to throw me off-balance. I wanted to sense

Kirito's warmth up close, to touch it directly with my heart…

And before I knew it, the words spilled out.

"Here…hold my hand."

I tilted to my left and extended my hand out of the bedroll,

reaching over to his side. Kirito stared for a moment with his obsidian eyes, then quietly agreed and echoed my action. Our fingertips touched, we both retracted, then clung tighter.

His hand was much warmer than the mug of soup I'd been

holding just a few minutes earlier. The underside of my hand was

resting on the icy floor, but I didn't even notice the cold.

The difference was human warmth.

In that moment, I finally understood the truth of the thirst

that had wracked a part of my heart ever since I'd set foot in this

world. I was afraid of thinking about the fact that this reality was

virtual—that my true body was far, far away, impossible to reach.

So instead, I found my own goals to pursue: to improve my crafting, to grow my business, telling myself that this was my real life.

But deep in my heart, I always knew. That this was fake, that it

was data. That I was starving for true human warmth.

Kirito's body was just a mass of data as well, of course. The

warmth that enveloped me now was only an illusion, the product

of electric signals stimulating my brain.

But at last I realized that this wasn't the problem. The only

truth—in the real world or this virtual world—was what I felt in

my heart.

I smiled and closed my eyes, still holding his hand tight.

Despite the quickened pace of my heartbeat, sleep found me

disappointingly fast, pulling me down into a comforting darkness.