The sensation of holding the Anneal Blade when I got it for my
first quest on the first floor of Aincrad.
The sensation of holding the Queen's Nightblade the dark elf
queen bequeathed me on the ninth floor.
The sensation of holding the black Elucidator longsword that
dropped from the fiftieth-floor boss.
The sensation of holding the pale Dark Repulser longsword
that Lisbeth forged for me.
Even the sensation of the legendary Excalibur that I earned at
great cost in the fairy realm of Alfheim…
A thrill ran through me equal to—perhaps even greater than—
the moments I first encountered my various companions
throughout my adventures. I was rooted to the spot. When the
trembling left, I tensed and yanked the sword out of the black
leather sheath.
Jriiiing! The ringing sound was a bit deeper than the Blue
Rose Sword's. It was heavy, but without the stiffness of a metallic
blade. Yet it was also completely different from a wooden sword.
It sounded unbelievably tough and yet fierce. I flipped my wrist
up straight, and the end of the sword hummed.
"Hrmm," Sadore grunted.
"Whoaaa," Eugeo marveled.
I held my breath and gazed at the blade.
It looked to be about exactly as long as my old Elucidator. That
only made sense, as I was the one who had snapped off the
branch at that length and instructed Sadore how long it should
be.
The blade was the same deep black as the handle that it was
connected to, a single piece of wood. It still had that slight
translucence, taking in the light that shone through the window,
and occasionally glowing with hints of gold, depending on the
angle. It was shaped like an orthodox one-handed longsword, but
the flat was a bit wider than the Blue Rose Sword's.
The edge of the bevel slope along the flat had a sharp angle to
it and seemed likely to break the skin if you brushed it. The blade
itself did not reflect light from any angle; it was as though it cut
the light itself.
"…Can you swing it?" Sadore finally rumbled.
By way of answer, I glanced around the shop, making sure
there were no other customers present. The young apprentice was
in the back workshop, out of sight.
I turned to face parallel to the long counter. There was an
empty space at least five mels long ahead of me, plenty enough
for a test swing. With my left hand on the sheath, I spread my
legs forward and back and crouched. I didn't need to try a sword
skill; just a one-handed vertical slice would do.
There was a buckler carved from a steel sheet hanging on the
wall. I slowly raised the sword up high, setting my sights on the
shield.
After training with nothing but wooden swords for the past
year, the black sword was mercilessly heavy in my hand, but it
wasn't altogether unpleasant. It was a comforting weight—a challenge to me, a demand that I wield it with skill.
As the tip reached a vertical tilt, I slid my right leg forward,
imagining the vector of my weight shifting and the moment of
torsion. All the energy stored in that sword tip descending unleashed with a powerful step forward.
"Shaaa!"
Black light ran in a straight line, followed by the sound of air
being cloven in two. The tip of the sword stopped just short of the
floorboard, but the expanding force of the swing caused the board
to creak.
I stood up again. Eugeo beamed and applauded, while Sadore
snorted ferociously.
"Hmph! So the skinny little academy trainee can swing that
thing, eh?"
"It's a good sword," I said, judging that no more needed to be
said. The craftsman finally broke into a snarling grin and tugged
his beard again.
"Bet your ass it is. Six black-brick grindstones! But…a promise
is a promise. No charge for my services—just tell 'em it was the
master craftsman Sadore's work, once you get famous! The
sword's yours now."
"…Thank you. Thank you very much," I said, bowing deeply.
Eugeo joined in. Then I straightened up and sheathed the sword
again.
Sadore gazed at the black blade for two seconds, then grinned
again. "You've got to think of a name now. And remember, my
place is associated with it, so don't go givin' it some weird title."
"Uhh…"
I had no quick answer. Until this point, all the virtual worlds
I'd been through were the kind where objects had preset names
when you got them. Coming up with names wasn't my strong
suit.
"I…I'll think about it," I suggested. "Anyway, if its life starts to
drop, I'll be back to get it sharpened again…"
"Sure thing. And it won't be free, I'll tell you that!"
"I—I wouldn't dream of it."
We gave him one last round of bows and took a few steps toward the door.
Suddenly, a loud clanging erupted behind us, and we jumped.
Over my shoulder, Sadore was staring at the west wall in shock.
I followed his line of sight to the buckler on the wall, now split
into two, with one half clattering on the floor.
It would be a violation of the Taboo Index to intentionally destroy shop merchandise.
It would be a violation of the Taboo Index to accidentally
destroy merchandise and fail to pay for it.
In the case of , one may escape punishment only if the
shopkeeper forgives the violator.
I rushed back to the academy, poring over these newly learned
bits of information. My teacher of all things taboo-related, Eugeo,
muttered and complained into my ear as we rushed along.
"…If you were just going to test it out, you didn't need to use
one of your top-secret techniques! You should have realized that
it was going to ruin some of the wares in there!"
"Er, well…I didn't think I was using a sword sk—er, a technique…"
"I saw what you did, Kirito. The moment you swung it down,
the blade glowed just a bit. I have to assume that it was some supersecret Aincrad technique you haven't taught me yet!"
"Er, well…I'm pretty sure there's no such technique in the Aincrad style…"
As we walked and bickered, a sweet scent hit my nostrils and
went straight to my brain.
North Centoria was split into ten districts. The farthest south
(and closest to Central Cathedral) was District One, home of the
imperial palace; then District Two and the imperial government;
while Districts Three and Four contained noble houses. The mansions in District Three would make Asuna jealous, but even more
surprising was that the nobles from first- to third-rank also
owned large private estates outside the city.
Some estates contained their own little villages, the residents
of which were essentially servile to the noble family. It was only
inevitable that noble children raised in those circumstances eventually went on to produce a few bad eggs like Raios and Humbert.
District Five was a cluster of imperial facilities and buildings:
the knighthood headquarters, the coliseum, and, of course, the
Imperial Swordcraft Academy.
Districts Six and Seven were commercial areas. Districts Eight,
Nine, and Ten at the north end of the city were civilian residential
areas. From what I had learned in geography lessons, this layout
was absolutely identical in the east, west, and south portions of
Centoria, too. That couldn't be by coincidence, and I doubted that
all four emperors had gotten their heads together to plan it out,
either. It had to be a unified design choice by someone powerful
within the Axiom Church. Being a student meant I was too busy
to think about them much, but it was a reminder of the absolute
power of the church.
At any rate—in order to get from Sadore's metalworking shop
in District Seven to the academy in District Five, we had to pass
through District Six, which was packed with tempting food markets and restaurants. Essentially all the money that had fled my
wallet over the past year had gone into District Six.
The most dangerous time was around two o'clock on a day of
rest. This was right around the time that the Jumping Deer
restaurant on East Third Street baked up its famous honey pies
and sent the smell wafting out into the street. Every time I caught
that smell, I needed to make a high-difficulty saving throw
against temptation—and most times, I lost.
"…Hey, Eugeo. It's a good thing we didn't have to pay for the
broken shield or the sword itself, isn't it?" I noted, slowing down.
My partner nodded, but with suspicion. "True…After we
joined the academy, I found out that Sadore's got certification as
a first-class crafts-master. If he'd forced us to pay, our entire savings wouldn't have covered it."
"Ohh…Hey, maybe this is a pointless question, but what
would've happened if we didn't have enough? Would they arrest
us on the spot?"
"No, that wouldn't happen. It would get put on a tab that we'd
have to pay down in monthly amounts."
"Oh, I see…"
Unlike Aincrad, where the Cardinal control system regimented
the in-game economy to fix the value of col, the shia of the Underworld had a more free-flowing value dictated by the residents'
activities. Therefore, it was important for even starving students
to do their part and stimulate the economy.
Empowered by this noble motive, I suggested, "Well, since
we've saved ourselves some extra cash, why don't we swing by
and get three each?"
My partner sighed, having seen all of this coming a mile away,
and said, "Make it two."
I grinned and nodded, then shifted directions to lead us over
toward the left, where a young lady was setting some fresh-baked
honey pies at the sales window of the restaurant.
At some point, the weight of the sword package slung over my
back had vanished into familiarity, and I didn't even notice it was
there. As if it had been there for years.
4
When I returned to the academy, savoring the harmonious aftertaste of melting honey and butter, Eugeo split off to visit Golgorosso, while I headed for the primary trainee dorm's office. I
needed to apply to Miss Azurica to bring in the sword as a personal item.
Bringing any blade three feet long into a real-world school
would get you not only scolded by the teacher but possibly arrested. Still, given that the goal of this virtual academy was
swordsmanship, students were allowed to possess their own personal weapon.
The number was limited to one, because each sword would periodically absorb trace amounts of sacred power—of spatial resources. In practice, this meant that a weapon damaged in a duel,
once polished and returned to its sheath, would gradually regain
life—in other words, suck sacred power out of the air. If a blade
went so dull that it couldn't automatically repair itself, it needed
the help of a professional sharpener. If the damage was bad
enough to break or chip the weapon, only a blacksmith could repair it.
If there were no limits on weapon possession, and a particularly obsessed student brought in a hundred, the buildup would
cause sacred-power anomalies around the room. So theory said
that one was the only safe number.
Azurica wasn't working the counter, due to it being a day of
rest, but she had left the office door open while she did paperwork. Her blue-gray eyes looked up in surprise when I rapped on
the door.
"What is it, Primary Trainee Kirito?"
"Pardon me, ma'am. I've come to get permission to bring in a
personal sword," I said with a little bow, stepping through the
doorway. Along the walls were a number of shelves stuffed with
leather-bound files, a desk, and a single chair. In other words,
this one woman managed the primary trainee dorm and its 120
students entirely.
She was a bit confused by my request but got up and immediately went straight to a specific file in the wall of shelves. She
pulled a piece of paper out of it and slid it over to me.
"Please fill out the necessary information."
"Er, of course."
I glanced down in apprehension, but all the form wanted was
name, student number, and sword priority. Relieved that it didn't
have a field for "parent/guardian" or anything like that, I put
down the name Kirito and the number 7—then came to a stop.
Now that I thought of it, I'd even gone so far as to test out the
sword, and yet I had never once opened its window.
Miss Azurica watched as I lowered the cloth bundle from my
back onto the table and undid the rope tying it up. I could open
the window just with the hilt exposed, so I peeled back a corner of
the cloth.
"…!"
There was a sharp intake of breath, and I looked up. The normally calm and frank Miss Azurica was staring, wide-eyed.
"Umm…is something wrong?" I asked. She blinked a few
times, then shook her head. She did not elaborate any further, so
I returned to the sword, made the two-fingered motion command, and tapped the pommel. The properties window appeared
with a little bell chime.
It read: Class 46.
That was actually one class higher than the divine Blue Rose
Sword. No wonder it was so heavy. I wrote down the number on
the third line, returned the cloth, and handed her the completed
form.
Azurica's gaze slid from the sword to the paper. She stared at
the information; she already knew my name and number, so it
had to be that priority number she was looking at.
I began to get nervous, wondering if perhaps there was an
upper limit to the object priority of any weapon being brought
into the dorm, when…
"Trainee Kirito."
"Y-yes?"
"Do you have…that sword's memory…?"
She stopped there, closed her eyes for a bit, then opened them.
She was the normal, stern dorm manager again.
"…Never mind. Your form has been received. As I hardly need
mention, use of actual swords is limited to private training. It is
not to be used in tests or group practice under any circumstances.
Is that understood?"
"Yes, ma'am!" I replied. As I put the black sword's package
over my back again, I wondered if I should ask about her unfinished comment. Then I considered that she wasn't likely to give
me an answer, so I made the knight's salute and left the office.
As I walked back toward the front entrance, my mind pored
over those words.
That sword's…memory.
It was a strange phrase. True, the sword and everything else in
this world was stored in a format called mnemonic visual data.
But that was a technology invented by Rath in the real world, and
nobody who lived in the Underworld would be aware of it.
So Miss Azurica's comment was more of a literal one. That this
black blade held some kind of memory.
But what did that actually mean? What did she see in this
black sword…?
I left the building, thoughts and questions swirling in my head,
as the bell tower overhead rang out the three o'clock melody. The
bells here were far deeper and louder than those in Rulid, but the
tune itself was exactly the same.
My meeting with Liena was at five.
Based on my test swing at Sadore's shop, the new sword felt
perfectly natural to me—so familiar that it might as well have
been my sword from the old SAO coming back. But I still needed
to confirm that I could actually pull off the high-level sword skills
of the Aincrad style first.
On the day of rest, which was the only day of the week we were
allowed to leave the academy, most of the Centoria-based students went back home, while the few from farther north went
around to visit various spots in the city, leaving the campus
rather barren. There was even a small woods and a brook running
through the school, creating plenty of places to practice tech-
niques—but I wanted to be absolutely certain that no one would
see me. After all, I was about to attempt combination skills,
something that no sword school in this entire world possessed.
Why were there sword skills in the Underworld? And why
weren't there any combination skills?
I'd been here for two years now and was no closer to finding
the answer to these questions. The only potential theory I had at
the moment was that the Rath engineers had made use of The
Seed creation package to construct the Underworld…but even
that wasn't a complete explanation.
The freely distributed Seed—a shrunken-down version of the
Cardinal system—did not contain sword skills. Out of all the VRMMOs in existence in 2026, the only one with sword skills was
ALfheim Online, which contained a full copy of the former SAO
server. But there was no way that ALO's management company,
Ymir, was involved with Rath's experiment.
Anything beyond this point was just baseless speculation. If I
wanted to know the truth, I had to get to the top of Central Cathedral and make contact with a system manager.
At any rate, the swordsmen of the Underworld could use
sword skills as the ultimate techniques of their respective styles,
but they were all single-attack skills like Vertical or Avalanche.
I had a guess as to why this was the case: because there was
essentially no battle here. The absolute law of the Taboo Index
and the invincible Integrity Knights protected the Underworld.
Therefore, all "battle" within its borders came in the form of
duels. All they sought was clean, beautiful victory. For centuries,
the swordsmen of this world had pursued an ideal form—that of
the bold pose from a distance, closing the gap, and finishing with
one big, decisive blow.
It also served the purpose of defending against the possibility
of spontaneous accidents, perhaps. All the regional dueling tournaments used the "stop-short" method, while the higher events in
Centoria were ruled over on the first clean hit. That made it
somewhat inevitable that they would avoid any combination attacks that were difficult to stop after the first blow.
Under these circumstances, it was no wonder that fighters like
Volo Levantein rose to prominence: blessed with size and
strength and absolutely confident in the power of their single
strike. If I'd been forbidden from using multipart skills in SAO, I
would never have been able to beat players of the same level who
used double-handed weapons.
No doubt that was the reason that Sortiliena had been unable
to overcome Volo for the past two years.
She wasn't going to be able to use a multipart attack just because I showed it to her today. Even Eugeo, who hadn't undergone any training in existing styles before he met me, took
months to master the two-part Vertical Arc.
But perhaps I could show her that massive overhead swings
were not all there was to swordplay. The Serlut style was similar
to my Aincrad style, so if I could help erase her preconception of
High-Norkia style being more powerful, she might stand a chance
in the graduation match.
I headed east through the campus until I was at the edge of the
grounds. The walls around the school were fan-shaped and contained a central school building, main practice hall, library, two
trainee dorms and instructor housing, and the elite disciple dorm,
with plenty of space to spare after that. There were large gates on
the north and south walls, a steep little hill to the west, and a spacious forest to the east, neither of which featured any students on
a day off.
I chose the forest anyway, thanks to the ample visual cover,
and walked until I found a nice little opening. The short, fine
grass was as thick as a soccer pitch, the perfect ground to avoid
tripping on. I glanced about me again, making sure there was
nothing around except for a few floating butterflies, and reached
over my back.
I loosened the cloth by feel and grabbed the exposed hilt, savoring the sensation of the wrapped leather sinking into my palm,
and yanked.
The pitch-black longsword caught the sun shining through the
branches. As it was carved out of the Gigas Cedar branch, I supposed it was technically a wooden sword. But the reflection of the
light off the blade was so sharp and tough that it looked like nothing but metal. One glance was all it took to recognize the high priority of the item fashioned over a very long year by Sadore the
master craftsman. Yet no matter how I looked at it, I couldn't see
how such an object would contain "memories."
I decided to save that question for later and took a normal
stance, raising the sword with one hand. Unlike my last practice
swing, this time I envisioned a technique—Slant, a diagonal
slashing sword skill that I'd used countless times before.
After a brief pause and hold, a vivid light-blue glow rippled
across the blade. Pushed and guided by unseen hands, I accelerated the effect with my push-off leg and right arm.
Shwa! The slash rocketed through space. A diagonal line
quickly erupted and trickled away into the air like heat haze. The
force of the gust flattened all the grass in the clearing to one direction.
I watched the trunk of a tree about fifteen feet ahead from my
follow-through pose. But while the skill's effects wore off, no
damage appeared on the bark.
That made sense; the range of Slant was maybe eight feet at
best. The effect of the move shouldn't last twice that distance.
But if that was the case…why did the buckler in the shop split,
if it was the same distance away? Surely it didn't naturally reach
the end of its life at that very coincidental second. And I did not
use a sword skill then. Eugeo claimed the sword had shone…but I
didn't know why.
It just didn't make sense. This world was full of mysteries.
I sighed, straightened up, collected my breathing, and started
the motion for my next skill.
A direct overhead slash. Just before the tip touched the
ground, it bounced back upward. That was the two-part skill Vertical Arc. A more powerful gust of wind arose this time, rustling
the grass violently.
So far, these were moves I could still achieve with a wooden
sword. This time, I shifted my legs, held the blade at my waist,
and twisted right.
"…!"
With a silent cry, I slashed horizontally left. The blade stopped
straight ahead, as though colliding with something invisible, then
leaped up and to the right. A step forward, and then a shortrange, high-powered slash. The three-part Savage Fulcrum.
The move left a crimson trail like a closed numeral 4 in the air
that quickly trailed away. Satisfied, I continued to the next move,
holding my sword directly along the median line, then backswinging up over my head.
High. Low. A connecting forward slash, then a pull all the way
over my back for a full-power vertical smash. A blue square
floated forward through the air, rotating and spreading apart.
That four-part attack had been one of my favorites in SAO, due to
its wide range and lack of easy exploits—Vertical Square.
All four sword skills went off without a failure or a single hitch.
That was enough to confirm that the sword was at least the
same priority level as Eugeo's Blue Rose Sword. Of course, I could
have anticipated this back in the dorm office the moment I saw it
was a class-46 object.
It looked like I would be able to show Liena a higher sword
skill. I was momentarily relieved, until a different emotion raised
its head.
The Blue Rose Sword could achieve four-part skills, but no
matter how hard I tried, five-parters would not work. What about
this new sword? If I was going to test that out, this private moment was the time to do it.
I squeezed the handle and slid my right foot forward, pulling
the sword back to my left shoulder and imagining power building
up inside it.
Something at the root of my bangs itched, like a warning sign.
I shrugged it off, trying to focus.
Chik. Chik. I caught sight of orange sparks along the blade out
of the corner of my eye.
This was a totally new and less impressive style of sword-skill
flash, compared to the usual dazzling light effects. I concentrated
on the mental image of the technique and held the preliminary
motion. The sparks continued to blink uncertainly.
I was running out of stamina to continue the unstable stance,
and when my strength finally reached its peak, I unleashed it.
"Whoa!" I mumbled as the ground trembled under my extended right foot. The sword went from upper left to lower right,
and the system assistance should have shot it back up just before
bottom dead center—except that instead, it drove straight into the
ground.
A tremendous impact ran through my right wrist. Instantly, I
recognized that I would suffer serious injury if I tried to force the
sword. Instead, I gritted my teeth, turned my body, and pulled
straight back on the sword, which was sunk about eight inches
into the ground.
There was a terrific, heavy boom, and I toppled backward onto
the grass as my body turned.
Didn't work. What am I missing? Was it my level? The
sword's priority? Perhaps both…?
I lay spread-eagled on the ground, my thoughts racing. Overhead, I saw dirt and grass floating in the air, thrown by the impact of the sword—
And beyond them, a man standing silently at the edge of the
clearing.
He was very tall, dressed in a school uniform, though not the
academy's normal gray. His was a pearly-white color with brilliant cobalt-blue lines. The right to color-coordinate one's uniform was a privilege allowed only to the school's twelve elite disciples.
Liena's was a dark, grayish purple. Golgorosso's was deep
green. And this pearl-white with blue accents belonged to none
other than first-seat Volo Levantein.
The dull blond, close-cropped hair and steel-blue eyes stared
down impassively, clearly belonging to the unquestioned champion of all students at the academy.
As he watched me lie there, a blob of dirt dislodged by my
sword's impact splattered against his pristine white jacket, sending dark flecks out in a circular pattern.
I'd be lying if I said I never considered fleeing the scene.
If this were Aincrad and he was a senior member of the Divine
Dragon Alliance guild, I would have scampered off at once. But
running after committing an action was the worst possible choice
in this world. Crime piled upon crime, certain to eventually grow
into a violation of the terrifying Taboo Index.
So a second later, when I recovered, I quickly took a knee and
placed my sword on the ground—the sign of absolute deference—
and bowed. "Pardon me, Disciple Levantein! Please forgive my
rudeness!"
I hadn't made such an impassioned apology since the time
Asuna smacked me in her private room on the sixty-first floor of
Aincrad. I held my head down, hoping against hope.
"You are Disciple Serlut's page, correct?" he said calmly.
I slowly lifted my head and stared into those blue eyes for an
instant, then nodded. "Yes. Primary Trainee Kirito, sir."
"I see," the disciple said, glancing at the black sword laid atop
the grass. In his rich tenor, he continued, "According to school
rules, throwing mud upon the uniform of a senior student is a
grave offense worthy of disciplinary punishment…"
At that point, I groaned on the inside.
Disciplinary punishment was the term for a privilege only the
elite disciples had, a stand-in for instructor authority. In other
words, when students accidentally committed minor violations of
school rules, disciples were allowed to punish them. On a number
of occasions, I'd been commanded to do a hundred swings for the
crime of showing up late to Liena's room.
As for what happened to students who committed serious offenses—such things did not happen in the Underworld. Major violations did not happen by accident, and artificial fluctlights were
incapable of intentionally breaking any law or rule. The only danger of that happening was with me, the natural fluctlight—and I'd
made it through a year so far without committing any major
faults.
Until now. Splattering mud on the top student's uniform was a
critical mistake.
"…However, I am not critical of your dedication to practicing
with the sword in secret on our day of rest. Even if such an act is a
violation of the academy's rules."
Euuugh. Another silent groan.
In fact, he was right. But if I admitted that, it made disciplinary punishment only more likely. I had to at least try some minimal resistance, whether it worked or not.
"N-no, First Seat. This is not practice. I was, er…trying out my
new sword. A weapon I had commissioned in District Seven finally arrived today, and I wasn't able to wait until tomorrow to
swing it…"
At that point, I realized something much more important.
How long had the crew-cut blond been watching me? And
what was he even doing here in the first place?
I was here in the woods only to practice combination attacks
that did not exist in the Underworld's sword teachings, and that
was so I could show them off to Liena in an attempt to help her
defeat Volo. Now things were completely backward—he was the
one witnessing them first.
The strongest student in the academy smirked faintly, as
though he had understood my entire thought process.
"I heard some very enthusiastic shouts for a simple test swing.
But all that I witnessed was you striking the ground with that
sword. Let's say that your feet slipped from using an unfamiliar
weapon. I will agree that you were not breaking the rules and
practicing on the day of rest, as my reasons for being here are
similar."
This both relieved and confused me. "S-similar…you say?"
"I mean that you are not the only one who tries to find a reason to swing his sword on a day of rest," he said, shapely lips curling into an invincible grin. Volo looked around the clearing I'd
chosen for a swing test. "But in truth, I found this place first. I
promised my page that he would be allowed to use it after my
graduation, so you'll need to find a new location."
That explained things for me. He, too, would come up with
some non-practice justification to come out here and train on his
off days…and I had the sheer bad luck to be using his secret spot
right as he was about to show up. No doubt that the pristinely
short condition of the grass here was a consequence of him stepping on it every day, resetting its life value.
I made a mental note to find a wilder-looking clearing next
time and bowed to him again. "Of course. I will do that, sir.
Thank you for your generous understandi—"
"It is too early to be thanking me, Trainee Kirito."
"S-sir?"
"I said I would overlook your use of the sword on a day of rest.
I did not say anything about this."
My head shot up. He was gesturing with a finger at his uniform breast with a deadly serious expression. At the dark mud
stain on the pearl-white fabric.
"B-but, First Seat, you said you weren't critical of my dedication…"
"Indeed, I am not. So I will not discipline you by commanding
you to clean the entire disciples' dorm or copy a thousand lines of
sacred arts."
Briefly, very briefly, I was relieved.
Then he flicked off some mud and instead commanded, "Primary Trainee Kirito, your discipline shall be a duel with me. Not
with wooden swords—you may use that one. I will use this."
That was when I noticed that hanging at his left side was a real
sword, seemingly of quite high priority, with a dull-gold pommel
and deep-blue sheath.
"…A…a d-duel…sir?"
"I am referring to training in the form of a match, of course.
But this is too cramped a location. The main training hall will be
empty on a day of rest. We can go there."
And with that said, the first-seat disciple spun around on the
spot.
I stood there for two seconds, staring at that white jacket as it
slid away from the clearing. When my mind started running
properly again, I really did consider just scampering away. But
failing to complete a disciplinary punishment turned one's offense from minor into a serious rule-breaking. Given that I
wanted to be an elite disciple like Volo after this month's advancement test, I couldn't afford to get expelled now.
I lifted up the sword on the ground, returned it to its sheath,
and stood up. After a longing glance at the stone wall of the academy through the trees behind me, I followed after that shaved
blond head, resigned.
Volo did not trip on any of the varied weeds and grasses that
grew thick and clinging outside the clearing.
Belatedly, very belatedly, I realized, Gee…it would be the easiest thing in the world for a guy like him to step out of the way of
a flying glob of mud.
5
Right as I left the woods and rejoined the paved footpath, the
bells rang four o'clock.
The sky was looking darker now, and some students were
around, returning to campus from the city. As they caught sight
of the white-and-blue uniform just ahead of me, their eyes
bulged.
That was no surprise. Since being named disciple, Volo Levantein had hardly ever left the disciples' dorm. The only times that
anyone other than his page saw him were at the four periodic
tests throughout the year. Even I had seen him in the hall of the
disciples' dorm only a few times, and I went in and out of that
building every day to see Liena. This was the first time we had
ever spoken.
Now that legendary figure was walking with a common-born
primary trainee, apparently heading for the main training hall.
No wonder they stared.
More frightening to me was that more than a few of them,
upon noticing us walking together, started rushing off to the
school building and dorm. Pretty soon people all over the academy would be buzzing about something starting in the training
hall.
Curfew on a day of rest was seven o'clock, a bit later than
usual, so the majority of students would still be out at this hour.
But if I wasn't careful, a whole lot of people might gather to watch
us spar. I needed to end things as quickly as possible and escape
to Liena's room…
But wait. How was I going to "end things"?
As Volo had explained, in the academy, a duel was something
between practice and an official match. The rules stated that a
duel was of the "stop-short" variety, but if both parties agreed,
they could use the "first-strike" method that I remembered from
SAO. In other words, it was over after the first solid hit.
In that case, the loser would naturally suffer some damage. It
was one of the few exceptions to the Taboo Index's firm law
against intentionally damaging the life of another. The first-strike
method was forbidden at the Zakkaria garrison, but it was allowed here because they had plenty of expensive healing materials, as well as instructors who could cast powerful sacred arts. In
other words, any injury suffered in a duel could be healed.
But Volo had said this should be a duel of real swords, so the
stop-short method would have to be in play. That meant that if I
wanted to win, I'd have to not only find a way to block or evade
that tremendous overhead smash but deliver a counter that
stopped just short of landing.
That would be unbelievably tough. And beyond that—should I
even try to win?
Volo represented the ultimate goal for Liena's hard work of the
last two years. Was it right for me, her page and pupil, to beat
him? Would she be at all happy knowing that I had won…?
As I trudged along, lost in thought and staring at the ground,
two sets of footsteps raced into earshot.
I looked up and to the left. There was Sortiliena Serlut, her
skirt billowing as she ran, and behind her, my partner, Eugeo.
They crossed a grass hill, not the paved path, on a direct line to-
ward us.
I'd never seen Miss Liena running so hard that she panted like
this. I stopped in surprise, and Volo did, too, turning to watch
them.
In seconds, Liena had reached the path. She spared me a brief,
worried glance, then faced off with Volo. She straightened her
purple skirt and her back as she said, "Levantein…what is the
meaning of this?"
Liena was the only student in the school who did not use a deferential title toward Volo. The students gathered around the
scene began to buzz.
The foremost swordsman in the academy took in the piercing
navy gaze of her eyes without flinching. His close-cropped head
tilted, and he replied, "As you can see, Serlut, your page caused a
bit of offense. I didn't think it was proper to inflict a large disciplinary punishment on a day of rest…so I have challenged him to
a single duel."
A larger buzz than before erupted from the crowd.
Liena finally noticed the large, blotchy stain on Volo's uniform
jacket and bit her lip, a sign of understanding.
As the first seat and second seat faced off, I scooted sideways
over to my partner, who was standing at the lip of the crowd. On
his face was a familiar look: a blended expression of "What did
you do this time?" and "No…not again…"
"You sure showed up quick," I murmured, and Eugeo nodded.
"I was in the disciples' dorm mess hall when Zoban's page
rushed in. They said you were going to fight with the first seat,
and while I thought that sounded crazy, I went to tell Miss Ser-
lut…I guess it wasn't crazy after all."
"Er, yeah…Guess not," I said lamely. Eugeo sucked in a deep
breath, as though preparing to say something, then held it in for a
few seconds and expelled most of it in an exhausted sigh.
"You know…it's a miracle that you didn't cause any trouble
here until today. Please tell me you're going to get your year's
worth of troublemaking out today."
"Ah, you haven't known me all this time for nothing, partner."
I grinned and slapped Eugeo on the back.
Meanwhile, Liena was still staring fiercely at Volo. But even
with my poor recollection of all the school rules, I knew there
wasn't any evidence that could overturn my fate.
I left Eugeo and headed to my respected tutor's side. "I'm
sorry to worry you. I'll be fine, though. If anything…I consider
myself lucky to get to face the first seat."
I tried to read her feelings through those dark-blue eyes. What
would she think about her trainee page fighting her biggest rival?
A second later, I deeply regretted it. The only thing I saw in
those eyes was concern for my well-being.
"Kirito. What are the rules of your duel?" she asked, to my surprise.
"Uh…well, we're using real swords, so I assume it's stop-short
—"
"Oh, I forgot to mention," Volo interjected, his face as placid
as ever. "I do not engage in stop-short duels. I cannot help that
the academy's tests are stop-short as a rule, but in personal
matches, I only ever fight first-strike."
"Huh? Th-then…"
At last, the head swordsman at the academy changed expressions. It was a challenge…like a carnivore baring its fangs.
"Of course, a first-strike match requires consent on both sides.
So it is written in the Taboo Index and thus takes priority over
any disciple's ability to dictate punishment. If you refuse, I will
have to settle for a stop-short duel. The choice is yours, Trainee
Kirito."
Suddenly, the constant muttering of the crowd around us went
silent.
I could practically hear Eugeo behind me, willing, Go with
stop-short! Naturally, Liena would want the same thing. And
even I wasn't reckless enough to accept a first-strike duel against
the toughest man in the school using real blades.
Or so I thought.
"…I'll leave the choice up to you, First Seat Levantein. I will accept my punishment," I heard myself say.
Behind me, I sensed Eugeo hanging his head. Liena gasped
and held her breath.
And, somewhere atop my head, I got the impression of someone shaking their head in disbelief.
The Main Training Hall of Swordcraft Academy sounded very
grand, but behind the name, it was basically just a large gym. The
floor was polished white floorboards, with four square match arenas marked out with darker materials. Around them were stands
for seating, with enough capacity for all 260 students and faculty
during the largest event at the school: the disciple testing tournament.
We stopped near the lines of the southeast arena that Volo had
picked out, where at least fifty students had already gathered.
Given that it was still before curfew on a day of rest, this probably
represented all of the student body currently on campus. There
were even three staff members, including—to my surprise—Miss
Azurica.
There was another surprise waiting. Among the students were
Raios and Humbert, those nasty upper-class nobles. They were
probably back early because their mansions were close by. They
were seated in the front row, leering with anticipation. The desire
to see Volo cut me open was written right on their faces.
I had no regrets about boldly accepting his rules. In that situation, I couldn't possibly have brought myself to any other choice.
Instead, a different kind of indecision now plagued me.
Should I fight Volo or not?
There was definitely a part of me that yearned to challenge the
greatest swordsman at the school. In fact, the number-three reason that I'd journeyed from Rulid in the far north down to Centoria was the old-school-gaming desire to fight against mighty opponents.
But at this moment I had a different desire, much stronger
than the one to cross swords with Volo.
I wanted Miss Liena to beat him in her final match. I wanted
her to win and be free of all the tangles surrounding her family
name and style. In the entire year that I'd been serving her, she
had never once shown me a true, unburdened smile.
Volo was examining his sword at the other end of the arena
while I grappled with my inner dilemma. I heard Liena call my
name and snapped around to attention.
Her deep-blue eyes stared right into me. In her normal, firm
voice, the second seat said, "Kirito, I believe in your strength. It is
with this faith that I warn you: the Levantein family, sword instructors to the imperial knights, have a secret saying. 'Wet your
sword with the blood of the mighty, and their strength shall be
your own.'"
"B-blood, huh?" I mumbled.
"That is right. Volo has no doubt been through many firststrike duels with naked blades, dating back to before his days
here. It is that experience that creates his tremendous power. And
he intends to turn your own skill into blood to feed his blade as
well."
It was hard to grasp precisely what she meant by that, but I
was able to convert her metaphor into terms that were more familiar to me. It all came down to the power of the mental image.
Liena's skill was tied down to a mental image that said, "The Serlut style is an offshoot created because we were forbidden from
using orthodox styles." While in Volo's case, the Levantein family
message was, "The stronger a foe's blood you feed to the sword,
the stronger it becomes."
No doubt that when he saw a bit of my combination skill and
my high-priority blade in the forest clearing, he figured that he
had found a suitable target. If it weren't for the fact that he had
picked me out as an easy mark, I might have even been honored
by the attention.
In other words, if I took a direct blow from Volo in this duel
and shed blood, it would only further strengthen his mental
image. And this outcome was highly, highly probable.
I didn't want to give the enemy a morale boost just before
Liena's final match. I was just preparing myself to take back my
previous statement and beg to use the stop-short rules when her
hands patted me on the shoulders.
"I know I said this before, but I believe in you. You're better
than letting him demolish you. You…you haven't forgotten yesterday's promise, I trust?"
"Promise…" I mumbled, then nodded. "Right. I promised to
show you everything I can do."
"Then fulfill that promise, Kirito. Show it to me here. Unleash
all your strength and technique and best Volo Levantein," she
said.
Instantly, all the hesitation and fog around my head cleared.
Avoiding a straightforward battle with Volo because it might
make him stronger before his fight with her was the worst possible mix of arrogance and pessimistic lack of confidence. And I
was nearly about to serve my respected tutor that fatal cocktail.
Once the sword was in my grasp, I had no choice but to wield it
with all my life and spirit. That was how I had lived in every virtual world to this point.
I gave her a bold, confident look, then turned to my right to
glance at Eugeo, who was leaning over the railing of the stands to
watch. I shot him a confident grin, and despite his usual worried
look, my partner raised a fist in solidarity.
I returned the gesture, then told Liena, "I will fulfill my
promise."
She replied with a tip of the head and stepped back. Right on
cue, a voice from the other end of the arena asked, "Are you ready
now, Trainee Kirito?"
I turned, walked right up to the black floorboard that marked
the boundary of the arena, and said, "I'm ready." Volo made a
simplified knight's gesture, striking his left breast with his right
fist, the back of his hand horizontal. There was no instructor here
to serve as judge, but that wouldn't be a problem; whoever bled
first, lost.
A step forward into the arena. Two, three, four. I was at the
starting line indicated by a white floorboard.
We drew our swords—he from the left waist, I from over my
back. Volo's steel-gray sword with its polished golden-brown hilt
drew murmurs of appreciation from the crowd. But when they
saw mine, that admiration turned to hushed astonishment. None
of them had ever seen a sword that was entirely black all over, I
was certain.
"Well, well! I wonder if they practice spreading black ink on
their blades in the uncivilized regions, Raios!" Humbert said in a
stage whisper from the stands.
"Don't be cruel, Humbert. Pages are so busy that they simply
don't have time to polish their swords," Raios whispered back,
sending up a tizzy of chuckling from the nobles around them.
But as soon as Volo began to move his sword, the crowd went
still. It was a sign of respect for the first-seat disciple but also a
likely consequence of the vicious presence of his intimidating
blade.
To think that wooden and real swords could be so dif erent, I
marveled.
I'd seen Volo Levantein's High-Norkian style "Mountain-Splitting Wave" stance three times at close range during the disciple
testing matches that had occurred while I served as Liena's page.
But seeing Volo with a real sword, rather than a wooden one, and
facing off against me personally was a different kind of pressure
altogether.
With his shaved blond hair and slender frame, Volo had the
appearance of a monk, but I realized in this moment that it was a
mistake to judge him based on that. The look in those gray-blue
eyes belonged to a demon who sought nothing but to cleave the
bodies of his foes with hard steel.
Volo lifted his lengthy sword with both hands; the weapon
would be classified as a bastard sword in a video game. The rippling effect around the blade wasn't a hallucination. The sword's
high-priority level and the power of its wielder's imagination
were vibrating the very air around it.
With a heavy whoosh, the first seat lifted the sword high overhead to complete his stance. Just pulling his sword a tiny bit farther back would unleash Mountain-Splitting Wave—the alternate
name for the two-handed heavy charging slash attack Avalanche.
In the recent past (which felt like distant times of yore at this
point), I had faced off in many one-on-one duels in Aincrad. The
most memorable of these fights involving a two-handed-sword
wielder was against a man named Kuradeel, who was in charge of
Asuna's personal security when she was vice commander of the
Knights of the Blood.
When we had faced off, I had correctly predicted that
Avalanche would be his first move, and I'd used a different charging skill named Sonic Leap to strike the side of his sword and destroy it.
I briefly considered that stratagem again here but promptly
shelved it. I couldn't envision any success in the attempt, only my
own sword breaking—or, at the very least, rebounding and leaving my shoulder wide open to his blade's path.
Mountain-Splitting Wave was based on the Avalanche model,
but I needed to consider Volo's attack to be a different thing,
thanks to its increased weight and speed. His overwhelming confidence gave his skill absolute power. In other words, if I couldn't
create a competing mental image that infused my entire body
down to the tip of my sword, I had no business standing in the
arena with him.
Now was the time to put aside any personal issues and use my
combination skills.
So I started the motion for the four-part Vertical Square, the
highest attack I could reliably use at the moment. It would require precision control, but if I could strike his Avalanche with
the first three hits in order, it should negate his attack. Then the
fourth and final swing would finish him.
In contrast to Volo's style, I pulled back my blade in a tight,
compact stance. When it came to countering a sword skill with
another sword skill, timing was everything. I had to unleash my
skill at the exact right moment.
The tip of the black sword slowly passed vertical and began
bending backward.
"Kaaah!!" Volo screamed, the sound splitting the air.
The bastard sword glowed reddish-gold. With a ferocious rush
and the appearance of burning flames, the overhead smash that
had thrice beaten Miss Liena's Cyclone barreled toward me.
But I was already moving. I'd begun Vertical Square with the
minimum possible pre-movement and pushed into the first slash
to provide extra power.
Gyang! A high-pitched clash erupted at the same moment that
a tremendous shock ripped into my right hand—my first blow
was easily deflected downward. No doubt the students and in-
structors in the audience assumed that I was using Lightning
Slash, the Norkian version of Vertical. If that had been the case, it
would be all over already—but I was just getting started.
Even in a clash of skills, the combination would continue as
long as the motion itself wasn't completely knocked off alignment. Vertical Square's second attack was an upward slice from
down below—exactly where the first hit was deflected. I wasn't
done yet.
"Zeyaa!"
I spun myself to the left, hurtling the sword upward. Another
clash. The blue glow surrounding my sword and the orange
around Volo's mingled and flashed white, lighting up the dim
training hall.
Again, my sword was knocked backward. But this time, the
enemy's Avalanche slowed down. I gritted my teeth, unleashing a
vertical slice from top to bottom.
Grinngk! The two swords met with a duller crunch.
As I expected, the third attack didn't deflect his blade, but it
did stop the technique. If I pushed back here, it would cancel out
the Avalanche and leave me with a fourth and final attack to go.
"Rrrrah!"
"Hrrng!"
We grunted in unison, trying with all our might to push back
the other's attack. At this point, the little details like sword skill
attack values and system assistance meant nothing. It was mind
against mind, will against will. The connecting point of the
swords was white-hot, sizzling and sparking. The thick floorboards of the arena creaked with the incredible force being
pushed into them.
I envisioned a person observing the main memory device that
contained the entirety of the Underworld and noticing that a certain portion of the light quantum storage was turning a blinding
white. The signals being created in our fluctlights were in direct
competition, each trying to overwrite the other. There was no
more self-assured confidence in Volo's face now, just furrowed
brows and gnashing teeth. My face had to look the same to him.
The state of equilibrium lasted for two seconds, three, four…
Then I saw something I never imagined I would see.
Arrayed around the head of Volo Levantein, first-seat elite disciple, were the similar-looking faces of at least five other swordfighters.
Their bodies were vague and transparent, and the only thing I
could make out was that they were holding swords in the same
pose as Volo, but that was enough to provide instinctual enlightenment. They were the generational heads of the Levantein family, traditional masters of sword teaching for the Imperial Knighthood.
It was the true vision of what Volo the student carried on his
back…or was placed on his back for him. The true source of the
tremendous power in his swing.
I…cannot af ord to lose!! I thought I heard a voice say. The
next instant, I felt the weight against my arms grow to many
times its previous level.
The bastard sword, now glowing like the fires of hell, gritted
and creaked against my black sword. I pushed back as hard as I
could to withstand it, but I could feel my feet starting to slide
backward.
Another few inches…another inch and my skill would be
forced to a close. In that instant, it would throw my weapon aside
and leave me vulnerable to a deep, maiming blow.
The words three hundred and eighty years echoed in my
head.
Nearly four centuries of time had already passed since the creation of the Underworld. Even with the protection of its absolute
law system and the absence of any true battle, the swordsmen of
this world had created and passed on their swordcraft for all
those years. The result far surpassed any kind of mere VRMMO
attack skills.
My right foot slid, and the light infusing my black sword began
to blink.
But…
I wasn't fighting for the mere sake of experience points, either.
I fought for Eugeo, the friend who had been first to offer a
warm hand of help. I fought for Liena, who had spent a year
showering me with kindness, discipline, and many lessons. Most
of all, I fought for Asuna, Sugu, Klein, Liz, Sinon, Agil, Silica, and
all the others who waited for my return to the real world.
"I can't…afford to lose here…either!" I screamed to no one's
ears but my own.
In seeming response, the sword in my hand pulsed.
Within the dying blue light enveloping the black blade, a
golden point formed. More lights began to appear, until soon the
inside of the blade was covered in bright dots. In turn with this
phenomenon, the space around me grew darker, but I barely even
registered it.
I was more focused on the stunning change in my sword itself.
The blade was growing with little ringing noises. With all the
visual effects going on, and the fact that it was just a growth of a
few inches, I doubted that anyone noticed except for Volo and me
—but it definitely wasn't an illusion.
The hilt grew as well. Automatically, my left hand reached over
to squeeze the black leather handle and provide a full two-handed
grip.
In the old Aincrad, my sword skill would have automatically
ended due to an irregular equipment state. But when I added my
left hand, the dying blue Vertical Square glow immediately regained its power, fusing with the golden light within the sword
and swirling violently.
Something about the fierce change in the sword put me in
mind of the black blade's true form—the Gigas Cedar that loomed
over the forest south of Rulid. The obsidian mammoth that had
refused to be cut down for over three centuries, sucking up the
valuable resources of earth and sun.
…The sword's…memory.
The words barely flashed into my mind before my howl overrode them.
"Raaaahhhhh!!"
With all the muscle and willpower I could summon, I stepped
—forward.
The moment my foot landed, all the energy packed into that
intersection point of the two swords expanded, unable to handle
its own density.
Volo and I were both blasted backward, as though by some
higher flame-element sacred arts explosion. But we held firm in
our forward posture, refusing to fly off our feet. The soles of my
hardened boots scraped against the arena floorboards, bringing
up smoke. Even with our trails of burned leather, both Volo and I
managed to stop just short of the boundary lines.
Our swords were hurled backward with the force of their repulsion. Volo's Avalanche was over, its orange light fading.
But my Vertical Square was still active, even with two hands
on it now.
"Seyaa!!" I belted, and leaped. The fourth and final attack, a
high slice from a pulled-back position, activated. The sword
carved a brilliant blue arc through the air as it approached Volo's
defenseless chest…
It nicked his jacket and stopped just short of the floor. Vertical
Square was not a charging attack. I did all I could to boost the
range, but it wasn't enough to reach to the opposite end of the dueling arena.
Volo and I stared into each other's eyes at close range, and
after the briefest of intervals, a voice called out, "That's enough!!"
Immediately, I leaped backward to a safe distance and lowered
my sword. Up ahead, Volo had similarly disengaged his battle
footing.
Once I was sure that it was over, I turned toward the voice,
wondering who would step in to play referee in a duel that needed
none. The fact that it turned out to be none other than Miss
Azurica, the manager of the primary trainee dorm, left me
speechless.
Why would a dorm manager—not even an instructor—act like
a judge? And why did Volo obey her? These two questions kept
me rooted to the spot.
The first seat, meanwhile, walked closer with his sword hanging at his side and murmured, "We cannot disobey her judgment."
"Err…why is that…?"
"Because she was the Norlangarth Empire's first sword after
the Four-Empire Unification Tournament of seven years ago."
Whaaaaaat?!
My eyes nearly bulged out of my head. Volo Levantein inclined
his monk-like head, displaying none of his earlier ferocity. "Your
punishment is hereby concluded. Be more careful not to throw
mud onto others from this point onward."
He put his sword back in his sheath and turned around. The
white-and-blue uniform crossed the floor and vanished through
the door.
Instantly, a roar of shouts and applause erupted, filling the
training hall. To my surprise, there were now nearly a hundred
students, and even faculty members, clapping and cheering
wildly. In the front row, next to the calmly clapping Azurica, I
found my partner, Eugeo, tears streaming from his eyes. I raised
my left fist. Next to him was the imposing bulk of his tutor, Golgorosso.
Lastly, I glanced at the sword in my hand to make sure that it was
back to its proper size, then slid it into the sheath affixed to my
back.
Whap! Someone instantly smacked my shoulders from behind, causing me to jump. Pale hands turned me around, until I
was facing Miss Sortiliena, her face even more tear-streaked than
Eugeo's.
"…I thought…he'd cut you apart," she whispered, just loud
enough for me to hear.
"Yeah…so did I."
"And yet…you didn't surrender…You…you enormous fool."
Her eyes squeezed shut, the long lashes trembling. But she
won the saving roll against tears, took a deep breath, and opened
them. Those deep-blue eyes were full of a warmth I'd never seen
before.
"It was…an incredible battle, Kirito. I want to thank you. I'm
sad that it wasn't just for me…but you showed me everything your
sword can do, as you promised. Thank you."
"Uh…b-but it was a draw…"
"You're upset about taking Levantein to a draw?"
"I—I didn't mean it that way," I complained, shaking my head.
She favored me with a rare chuckle and leaned close to my ear
to whisper, "The outcome of the bout does not matter. I've
learned something…something very valuable from your fight. I
am now filled with pride at being the heir to the Serlut style…and
joy. At being your tutor, as well."
She patted my shoulders again and pulled away, the corners of
her mouth still very slightly upturned. "There is still some time
until curfew. Come to my room so we can celebrate. Call Eugeo,
too…Just this once, I'll allow his tutor to come as well."
I broke into a smile, nodded, and gestured to Eugeo in the
stands, pointing to the exit. Once he and Golgorosso got up to
leave, I began to walk with Liena across the floor of the stillbuzzing training hall.
All the while, the majority of my brain was preoccupied not
with visions of Liena's special wine collection, or Golgorosso's
endless lectures on the history of sword strategy, but…
You have the option of surrendering in a punishment duel?!
So it was that I barely even noticed Humbert and Raios, sitting
in a corner of the stands and shooting me looks of very explicit intent.
6
In the late Aincrad, there had been an abundant variety of wines
and ales.
But even an entire barrel of the hardiest, harshest fire whiskey
was fundamentally unable to get the drinker inebriated. The
user's physical body, resting on its gel bed in the real world,
wasn't taking a drop of alcohol, after all.
But to my surprise, alcohol in this world did function as intended, to a degree. I suspected that it worked by sending the
fluctlights signals intended to simulate a state of inebriation, but
in a sign of good conscience uncharacteristic for such a merciless
experiment, the effects of being drunk were limited to a level of
good cheer, while still retaining rational reason. There were no
crying drunks or angry drunks, and no one broke the law on account of the effects of alcohol.
And yet, there was no guarantee those conditions would hold
true for me, so when Liena threw her "Draw Celebration Party," I
held myself to just two glasses of wine. This was a considerable
act of self-control, as Liena had opened up a priceless hundredyear vintage that was so tasty, even a complete newbie like me
had to admit that it was fantastic.
Eugeo and Golgorosso joined in the fun, so we reveled in the
year's events, made predictions for the year-advancement tests,
and even got into the nitty-gritty of different skills and styles. Before I knew it, we had just fifteen minutes until the primary
trainee curfew.
We left the disciples' dorm with great regret. Eugeo hadn't yet
recovered from his "drunk" status effect, so I dropped him off at
the dorm room and headed for the flower beds to the west. Just
because it was a day of rest didn't mean the zephilias could go
without water. I marched down the staircase and opened the door
to the outside.
In the time that I had laid Eugeo into his bed and stashed my
sword in the drawer, the last bit of sunlight had vanished, leaving
only the shroud of night.
I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath to savor the chill of
the night and the pleasant smell of the anemones in full bloom—
but grimaced instead. There was another smell in the air, a clinging odor of some animal-oil perfume. I recognized that smell. I'd
experienced it just last night at dinner…but it shouldn't have
showed up here.
My eyes snapped open and squinted down the path that split
the flowers into four beds, right at the same time that two figures
appeared from the darkness. They were wearing the same gray
trainee uniforms that we all did, but they both had three buttons
of the jackets undone, exposing boldly colored undershirts. The
one with the gleaming red shirt was Raios Antinous. The one in
fluorescent yellow was Humbert Zizek.
No sooner did I wonder why these two would be out in the garden, given their total lack of interest in plant cultivation, than a
nasty foreboding entered my mind. I stood in place, one step in
front of the garden door on the west wall of the dorm, as Raios
and Humbert walked directly up to face me from a few feet away.
"Well, well, what a pleasant coincidence, Trainee Kirito,"
Raios drawled, his voice smooth and yet ugly with malice. "We
were just thinking of going to find you. Thanks for saving us the
trouble."
Humbert giggled gleefully. I looked back at Raios and muttered, "What do you want?"
His friend scowled in fury, but Raios held up a hand to stifle
him and answered, "To offer my praise for your splendid battle,
naturally. I never would have expected the page to a banned disciple to fight the great Levantein to a draw."
"Absolutely, absolutely. I daresay that the first seat was
stunned by the acrobatics of your swordplay," Humbert joined in,
cackling.
I kept my tone of voice low. "Are you offering me compliments
or insults?"
"Ha-ha-ha, wouldn't dream of it! Higher nobles would never
bother to offer commoners anything. We may provide some
things, however. Ha-ha!" Raios laughed, very pleased with himself, and stuck his hand into his jacket pocket, pulling out something long and narrow. "In honor of your acrobatics—er, your accomplishments—I provide you with this. Please accept it."
He took a step forward, reached out, and placed the object in
my front pocket.
"If you'll pardon us, we shall now take our leave. Sweet
dreams, Sir Kirito," Raios murmured into my ear, his lips curled
into a grin, and passed by me with a wave of golden hair.
Humbert leaned in next and spat, "Don't get full of yourself,
you nameless cretin," before following.
They walked into the building and slammed the door behind
them, but I was still frozen where I stood.
The object Raios had placed in my pocket was a flower bud
with a single bluish leaf. It looked nearly ready to bloom. I
plucked it from my pocket with a freezing-cold hand and examined it.
The flower, its stem crudely ripped at the end, belonged to
none of the Four Holy Flowers. It was a zephilia, the western
flower I'd been trying over and over to grow for the past six
months.
With that understanding came a rage so profound, I nearly
cracked my molars with the strength of my jaws grinding. If I'd
had my sword with me, I'd have rushed into the building and
swung it at Raios and Humbert. Instead, I raced for the back of
the garden, clutching the pale-blue bud in my trembling fingers.
Past the intersecting paths and to the tool shelf on the back wall,
where a white planter came into view.
"Ah…aaaah…" I gasped.
The twenty-three zephilia plants that I had bought as spice
seeds, raised in unfamiliar soil and very nearly brought to bloom,
were all cruelly torn off their stalks.
The round buds were scattered around the planter, their
trademark blue color already fading. The stems left in the ground
were wilting, clearly losing the last remnants of their life.
Right in the midst of the dying plants stood the tool of their
destruction, stuck in the earth like a gravestone: a long metal
trowel of the kind used to plant bulbs. Raios and Humbert had
used the sharp edges of the tool to sever the fragile plants.
I felt the strength drain out of my legs, and I collapsed to my
knees in front of the planter. Through eyes dazed and bleary,
staring half-focused at the scattered buds, I tried to think.
Why? The motive and means were obvious, but why did they
undertake this course of action? Intentional destruction of an-
other's property was a clear violation of the Taboo Index. It
should have been an ironclad rule, even for higher nobles like
them.
Object ownership in the Underworld was defined without
room for mistake. As I learned when I went out on our journey,
the windows for your objects always included a small P field indicating possession. In other words, everything without a P on it
was not yours and couldn't be stolen or destroyed.
Yes, there was no possession of plants while they were still
rooted to the ground, but that ground itself could be owned. A
plant growing in soil owned by someone was that person's property. The flower beds behind me were on Swordcraft Academy
land, so the blooming anemones belonged to the school. And I
had bought that planter in District Six, so I had always assumed
that the zephilia plants growing in it naturally became my property.
Through a mind numbed by rage and despair, I finally hit on
the fact of the matter. My eyes bulged.
The dirt. The black soil filling the planter…I hadn't dug that up
from the academy ground or bought it at the market. I had
brought it back from outside the city, from a patch of land owned
by no one. And I had told Muhle about it, as well as several others. Raios and Humbert must have overheard and determined
that if they were growing in soil from a distant location without
an owner, the plants would belong to no one, too.
If that was true, this was all my fault. I should have thought
harder about placing my precious plants in a spot that anyone
had the right to access.
Underworldians never broke the law. But that didn't mean
they were all fundamentally good people. Some of them followed
a personal creed that said anything that wasn't explicitly outlawed was open to interpretation. I was supposed to have learned
that in the Zakkaria tournament.
"…I'm sorry…" I grunted.
With one hand, I plucked up the scattered buds around the
stand and placed them in my other palm. The brilliant blue of the
plants grew grayer as I collected them.
Right after I finished pooling together all twenty-three buds,
they died out for good. The little plants crumbled in my palms,
spraying a brief, weak blue light, then melted away into the air.
Suddenly, tears flooded my eyes.
I tried to force my mouth into a smile, mocking myself for crying over my precious flowers being ripped up by bullies. But the
only thing that happened was a twitching in my cheeks, sending
the pooled tears running down them to drip onto the bricks at my
feet.
At long last, I realized what meaning I had put into those
zephilia sprouts.
The first reason I had tried raising those flowers was to experiment with the power of mental images in the Underworld.
The second reason…was to fulfill Liena's desire to see a real
zephilia flower, just once.
But there had been a third reason that I'd never consciously
grasped until just now. I saw something of myself in these little
flowers, desperately trying to grow in foreign soil. Cut off from
the real world, from those I loved and cared about, assailed by the
pain and loneliness of not knowing when I might see them again
—things I had tried to share with these little flowers…
The tears continued to gush forth, flowing down my cheeks
and dripping off.
I huddled into a ball, trying to hold back the sobs, and was
about to collapse to the ground when it happened again.
I heard the voice.
Have faith.
Believe in the strength of the flowers you grew so well in this
foreign land. Believe in yourself, for getting them to that point.
It was that strange voice I'd heard a number of times on my long
journey. It sounded feminine, but it didn't belong to anyone I recognized. It wasn't the voice of the young girl I had heard in the
cave through the End Mountains two years ago. It was calm, full
of deep knowledge and just the faintest hint of warmth…
"…But…they're all dead," I mumbled.
It's all right, the voice answered quietly. The roots in the soil
are still doing their best to live. Can't you feel it…? All the holy
flowers blooming in these flower beds are trying to save their
little companions. They want to share their life with them. And
you can transfer that wish to the zephilia roots.
"…I can't. I don't know how to use such high-level sacred arts."
The formal arts are nothing but a tool to harness and refine
the "Meaning"—what you call the mental image. At this point,
you need neither chants nor catalysts.
Now wipe your tears and get to your feet. Feel the prayer of
the flowers.
Feel the ways of the world…
And with that, the voice vanished into the distant night sky.
I took a deep, quavering breath, exhaled, then rubbed at my
eyes with the ends of my sleeves. With great force of will, I pulled
myself up into a standing position.
Behind me, there was an incredible sight. The holy flowers
planted in the four flower beds of the garden—not just the blue
anemones in full bloom but the bud-less marigolds, the short
stalks growing from the dahlia bulbs, and the cattleyas with their
crawling roots—were glowing faintly green in the darkness.
Sacred power. Spatial resources. These words were crass and
pointless in the presence of that gentle, warm, powerful glow.
Guided by the light, I spread my hands to the four species of
flowers and whispered, "Please…give them your strength…just a
bit of your life."
I focused on an image—the life force coming from the flowers
running through me like a conduit and into the zephilia roots left
in the planter.
Narrow, glowing green lines rose in countless numbers from
the flower beds. They gathered and wove together, forming a
number of thick ribbons. I waved my fingers, and they danced
silently through the air, flowing toward a single point.
All that was left was to close the final distance. The ribbon of
light infused the planter of broken stalks, wrapping around it
multiple times to look like one enormous flower, then melting
into the ground and vanishing.
Slowly but surely, the twenty-three stalks began to rebuild and
regrow. Leaves like sharp little swords split off from them,
spreading to protect round, bulging buds.
Once again, my eyes filled with tears.
What a mysterious, wondrous world. It was all, all of it, a collection of virtual objects, and yet it was equipped with beauty…
with life…with will that far surpassed the real world's.
"…Thank you," I whispered to the Four Holy Flowers and to
the owner of the mysterious voice. After some brief consideration,
I took the sigil pin off my uniform collar and placed it at the edge
of the planter. It was a sign that this land belonged to me.
When I got back to the room, I would apologize to the branch
of the Gigas Cedar I'd turned into a sword, for cutting it down.
And I would thank it, for helping me in the match against Volo.
For a long while, I gazed at the zephilia buds, now fully regrown. When the bells rang seven thirty, I got up and started
walking back to the dorm.
Just before I reached the door, I glanced to the south, over the
stone wall surrounding the garden, over the roof of the training
hall, at the massive Central Cathedral that split the starry sky in
half. The way the countless windows shone orange was just like a
skyscraper in the real world, only this one was far taller and more
beautiful.
Just at that moment, one light separated itself from the tower,
very high up.
I squinted, unable to believe it. But it wasn't an illusion or a
hallucination. The light was growing, bit by bit, approaching
North Centoria. It glided through the night sky, maintaining altitude…
"…A dragon!" I gasped.
No doubt about it. The light was from one of the enormous
lanterns that hung from the flying dragon's armor. It wasn't a
headlight or a warning signal, merely a light meant to inspire the
proper fear and respect in the people on the ground by night, as
they did during the day. Riding on the back of that dragon was an
Integrity Knight, highest agent of control and order in the world.
The gigantic beast crossed the sky, its wings held outstretched,
moving in the northeast direction. It was likely heading for the
End Mountains to undertake its duties of protecting the human
realm. The dragon would cross that 750-kilometer expanse in a
single day—a trip that had taken Eugeo and me an entire year.
Once the light of the lantern had vanished into the night, I
craned my neck to gaze upon the cathedral tower again. The
knight had taken off from about three-quarters of the way up.
Perhaps there was something like a flight pad up there. I tried
looking higher than that, but the top of the tower was lost in the
darkness.
What I sought had to be up there: the door to the real world.
But was it my imagination, or did the thirst to return grow
weaker and weaker by the day? And was it a trick of the mind that
it seemed to be replaced by a growing desire to see more of this
mysterious and beautiful world, to know it more intimately…?
I breathed in a lungful of the flowers' sweet scent, exhaled
slowly, and tore my gaze from the cathedral tower to open the old
door and return to the dorm.
At the end of March…
Second-seat disciple Sortiliena Serlut participated in the graduation tournament and, in her final opportunity, bested first-seat
disciple Volo Levantein, thus graduating from the North Centoria
Imperial Swordcraft Academy as its top student.
When we parted ways, I presented her with the planter full of
blooming zephilias, and she presented me with the first dazzling
smile and tears that I had ever seen from her.
Two weeks after her graduation, she appeared in the Imperial
Battle Tournament, but in the first round, she ran into the representative of the Norlangarth Knighthood and lost by a slim margin after a fierce battle.