[Entry: The Legend]
The date was December 21st. It had been a week since the second [Floor Boss] was defeated by the [Clearers] of the game but that was irrelevant. What mattered was that I could finally break the curse on this disaster-prone blade of mine.
A week and the clearing of an entire floor. That was how far this blade had set me back on my plans. As the fighters of the front lines grew ever stronger, it would be harder for me to maintain the gap between my skill and theirs. I would not permit that any longer, could not.
The time was approximately 2:37 AM. The players that still remained in [Urbus] were either in their rooms preparing for the next day or asleep. A perfect time to escape to the next floor, away from peering eyes. The time to begin the end of this accursed sword's quest.
I headed towards the town's teleport and equipped [War Memento] as I strode through the empty streets.
"A quiet night. Or should I say a quiet early morning?" I shrugged and continued to walk. A lone [NPC] played a slow song on a fiddle of sorts, melancholic in nature. If one were to look at the scene at the moment, it would be similar to a lone soldier heading off to battle. In a way, that would be accurate.
I grasped the [Cursed Blade] as I stepped onto the [Teleport Pad]. Although I would be teleporting into a [Safe Area], I wanted to ensure I was ready in the event that something went wrong. It might have been tempting fate, but I had a strong feeling that this simple task would not end well.
"I suppose I will have to deal with it when it happens." I took a deep breath and looked upwards towards my goal, the final floor of this iron tower. Now I could finally continue my quest to conquer it, to carve my name in Aincrad's halls of fame.
"Teleport: Doliana!"
A soft chime from a bell echoed through the town and a blue light enveloped me. It marked the beginnings of a teleport, calming and quite relaxing.
And then it changed.
The soft blue light of the teleport turned to an eerie emerald and the musical chiming of bells stopped.
Normally when a teleport occurred, there was only the faintest sensation of being pulled towards the direction of your destination before you were there. The time delay, at most, a fraction of a second.
It had been five. Something had gone wrong.
I sighed. "Of course. Why should I expect anything different?" And then I heard the billowing of heavy winds and was snatched away from this floor in a burst of intense light.
For a moment after the [teleport] ended, I suspected that I was still in transit due to the mist and safe from battle.
*shink*
Of course, the [Cursed Blade] rejected that notion immediately, almost pulling itself out of its sheath.
I sighed.
I was in an unknown location that had little to no visibility. It was dark, when the monsters were the most aggressive, and I hadn't the slightest notion of where to go in order to advance [A Warrior's Worth].
I made the gesture to open the [area map] only to see that it was near invisible among the mist, its pale color blending almost perfectly with the backdrop. Fortunately, I could still read the name of the area. Unfortunately, I was in the [Misty Forest] and not the [Misty Woods].
"Why did I have to be correct? Can my plan not go smoothly for once?"
Rustling came from every direction, a sound gradually getting louder with each passing second.
I turned, readying myself for combat, the [Cursed Blade] ready to attack. "Of course not. It would be too easy." I shook my head. "Idiot."
A few seconds passed before I saw it. Then I cursed my continuing misfortune.
During my desperate quest towards [Urbus] last week, my [Enemy Scanning] skill had leveled up considerably. It was to be expected from encountering hordes of monsters. As such, I now had an effective range of about seventy meters.
[Enemy Scanning] was a skill that exposed hidden monsters as well as detected their general strength relative to my own. To do so, it would highlight and clear the immediate area of my vision where the enemy was currently positioned. In darkness, this was represented as a geometric representation of the area.
In this mist, [Enemy Scanning] had cleared the mist about a meter around every monster. And I now had a field of vision spanning my entire effective range.
I took a step back, bumping into a tree as I did.
An army of undead, fallen warriors wielding axes, spears, swords and knives surrounded me. Legions that spread in every direction. Each of their cursors were a deep red. These were no simple foes, no mere monsters.
These were true enemies.
Animal and creature based enemies possessed a few attacks that were aided by the system assist. Humanoid monsters, those that could use weapons, had [Sword Skills]. And these undead most definitely had weapons.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment and brought my breathing under control. I could not defeat these enemies as easily as past opponents. Brute force would not work. This was not a battle. This was war and I had to fight accordingly.
I opened my eyes and lifted the [Cursed Blade], cutting the air once, twice. I was ready.
"Come fallen ones. Let my blade be the one to sunder your restless spirits."
It began.
A skeleton warrior attacked first. Its plated armor slowed it down, but the battle axe it wielded more than made up for the speed with sheer power.
It lifted its weapon over its shoulder and charged, the axe glowing with a sickly green light that indicated a sword skill.
I stepped forward, pulling my own weapon across my shoulder.
I had spent some time observing players on the field during the past week and noticed it. All sword skills were easy to read, especially the ones that had an exaggerated activation stance. It was the godly speed and strength following the activation that made them so fearsome. That lag between the time the system recognized the activation of the skill and the actual attack left the attacker vulnerable.
Of course players could minimize that lag to almost nothing with practice. These automated opponents however…
My blade cut through the air, connecting with the skeleton's axe just as the skill began.
*crack*
Unexpectedly, the axe shattered instead of being pushed away like I had expected.
I blinked in surprise, but took advantage of the opening before it vanished. There were too many foes to hesitate now.
The skeleton's hp gauge decreased by a fourth at my counter attack.
As I had thought, I could not force my way through these monsters. It would take planning and careful actions.
The skeleton retreated, observing me through the cavities where eyes should be. It was now without a weapon and could not continue fighting.
Of course, the moment I thought that was when it was proven wrong.
With a sickening sound, the bone warrior detached its left arm, wielding it as an impromptu mace.
I was appalled at the sight until I recalled the true nature of my opponents. These were not just undead warriors. They were realistic undead warriors. Like a rusted machine, their bodies were in various states of disrepair. I had not noticed it because my first foe was a skeletal warrior but the rest…
Limbs held together by the barest of tendons, patches of skin torn away. But what made the sight truly horrific was the accuracy, the terrible accuracy of their bodies, as if these men had truly been risen from the grave.
What on earth could have driven Kayaba to create such monstrosities?
I forced myself to quell my revulsion to dodge a strike from an undead swordsman. Repulsive or not, they were also skilled and unflinching fighting machines.
I jumped backwards, just out of reach of encroaching blades, and surveyed my surroundings. The undead were steadily advancing. If I stayed here, I would be felled by the sheer number of bodies pressing in. Nigh on a hundred undead, likely more, stood in every direction all avenues of escape closed off.
An impossible situation. No possibilities of success existed. I could not run due to the curse. My movement was restricted due to the trees and many enemies. To make matters worse, all of these enemies statistically outranked me by a factor of at least ten levels if their markers were any indication.
A lesser player would have given up, charging towards the crowd of foes to accept their fate. But I was no mere player. I would not give up, not so easily. I had lived through enough misfortunes since I arrived in this world. This was only par for the course.
There was a brief lull in the combat as the undead surveyed me and reorganized. No doubt their [AI]s were compensating for my earlier attack and devising the best way to defeat me.
It did not matter. I would win. Only victory could be achieved.
A calm settled over my mind. No matter the outcome, this would be a victory. Victory, even if bittersweet.
The lull ended, combat resuming in full. A dozen undead warriors, half still rotting while the others were bone, charged. A pair of crimson-lighted blades charged forwards, seeking my arms.
I advanced, half turning, and avoided their completed [Vertical]s, retaliating with a mimicked spinning technique from [Illfang the Kobold Lord].
The attackers were launched sideways but I had little time to acknowledge that fact.
Emerald-lighted axes sought my head and torso, followed by three pairs of swiftly approaching spears. A well-coordinated attack, leaving no room for escape.
I allowed my body to react on its own, trusting my instincts.
A step right and outstretched arm stopped the intended decapitation with a brief flash of light, my hand grasping the axe handle fractions before the axehead struck.
A diagonal slash to the left shattered the other axe in a dazzling shower of polygons. I followed it with a step left and pulled the axe I grasped in my right hand.
A trill of metallic impacts sounded as the six spears were halted by thick steel, however rusted. It resulted in another shower of polygons as the sheer strength of the tosses proved too much for the aged axe.
I glanced at my health in the brief pause and saw it had been reduced a fraction. While I had avoided the brunt of the force, stopping sure-kill strikes, it was impossible to eliminate all damage. Too much force was put into each blow and I had not enough strength to counter it completely.
"Tch."
I charged through the fading polygons and towards the remaining two undead that had yet to attack. A halberd sought my neck, parried by a slash from myself. Another sought my legs, avoided by a leaping roll over it.
A dozen more weapons of various sorts clashed just above my roll as the other undead took action.
I sprang upwards, spinning my blade around me to clear the path. I felt more than saw my strikes connect. The sounds of bodies crashing into the ground confirmed this.
I stood, now in an area with more maneuverability. I had barely moved from my original position, but now I was on the forest trail and few trees obstructed me.
There was yet another lull in the combat as the undead regrouped again, likely due to the [System] being strained from so many actions.
Ragged breaths tried to fill my non-existent lungs. My head throbbed with pain from performing so many high speed actions. I was sure that I had exceeded the [System Limit] at least once in that short instance and now paid the price.
I looked once more upon the foes I had to defeat. Only six had yet to receive any damage, though a few more than that were now without conventional weapons. It did not matter much at all, however, when these foes could use their own body parts as makeshift weapons.
"Hah… perhaps I should not have been so arrogant." I shook my head. Regardless of my attitude and the results it accomplished, I would accept my fate. It was of my own volition after all. So even if I were to fall…
Combat resumed, likely for the last time, as all of the undead moved as one. It seemed they had given up on attacking me in groups and were determined to eliminate me in one fell swoop. Dozens of projectiles launched towards my position.
I focused, lashing out with the [Cursed Blade] to deflect as many as possible. Again and again I struck, successfully knocking spears, hand axes, knives and thrown swords away from my body. Yet, again I could not eliminate the damage dealt. Slowly but surely my health was being worn down.
The other undead did not just stand by while their allies attacked me from afar. I saw that they had maneuvered around me in a formation that would leave no escape.
Sword and axe wielders stood in front, weapons readied in opposing angles. Pole arm users stood between, weapons readied to run me through. All around light flared as sword skills were prepared by the undead.
I sighed as the projectiles thinned. Without a doubt, this would be my end. Sheer numbers overwhelming me after a drawn out conflict.
"But such is war, is it not? An individual cannot hope to overcome the many..."
I knocked aside a final lance and turned my gaze upon my would-be executioners. In an instant, they charged, my end finally approaching,
But through it all, I had only one thought on my mind, one I repeated as the first blade reached my chest.
"If only I had never taken that cursed sword…"
And then my world vanished in a flash of purple light.
I had lost, and soon my very self would be destroyed by a barrage of microwaves from the [NerveGear]. That was what I believed after vanishing in that flash of light. As the minutes passed, I contemplated my existence, how it had been all for naught. How I had failed to find a reason to live. Yet, as the tenth minute passed by, I realized that I was still conscious.
Still alive.
Then, in that moment of clarity, the world snapped back into focus.
A field of grass, bathed crimson by the setting sun. In the distance was a jade palace, reaching far into the sky. It looked peaceful, and would be save for the sound of combat.
Clashing steel, the songs of matched blades, and devastating explosions enlightened me to this place's true nature. A battlefield, one to end all battles. Fighting in front of the palace were ten warriors, each locked in mortal combat with another.
I saw a berserker fighting without care, wielding an impossibly large blade with abandon. Each swing from the blade sent shockwaves that carved the very earth it passed, sundering the peaceful grass. Facing him was a swift fighter, donned in a martial artist's garb. Each of the berserker's fierce blows were blocked with bare hands… and returned in spades. Craters surrounded the two, a result of their superhuman conflict.
A short distance away, a warrior with a heroic visage wielded a dual set of blades as he faced off against a maniacal man wielding a bloodied dagger. The warrior's face was grim and he showed no mercy to his opponent. His strikes were as a symphony or a dance, meshing perfectly in a glorious steel harmony. The maniac countered with brutal efficiency, striking against the stream of steel with crimson blurs.
In the distance, a shining paladin with a divine two-handed sword faced a dark dragoon that seized the heavens, wielding a draconic spear. The paladin held the advantage, yet it was nullified by the dragoon's ability to leap skyward, crashing down like a falling star.
A crimson paladin, no a [Templar], faced off against a man that was as [Death] itself, robed in darkness and wielding a bone scythe that seemed to speak of instant defeat. The templar fought with a tower shield and long sword, both marked with a red cross. The hooded reaper struck with his scythe, at a speed so fast as to leave ghostly images in his wake. However, the templar managed to repulse each strike with a seamless defense, stopping the reaper from felling his next victim.
Finally, there was the hero that I had seen before, the wielder of the [Cursed Blade]. His foe was a samurai with a long katana that, for all intents and purposes, should have been useless. And yet the samurai wielded it with such finesses and mastery that the hero was being forced back.
The hero fought with a variety of weapons, switching from axe to long sword to many others without pause as the situation required. But eventually, he stopped and drew the blade I knew too well, the [Cursed Blade]. And then it was the samurai's turn to be forced back as the hero fought like a man possessed, evading every strike and responding perfectly.
It was a battle of two sides, good and evil. Or that was what it appeared. Time flowed and the scene blurred until only four remained: The templar, the paladin, the warrior and the hero. Together, they stood at the foot of the [Jade Palace], the fields behind them stained in crimson.
Words I could not hear were exchanged.
And then the templar moved, slaying the paladin with a swift stroke, a maniacal glint in his eyes. The hero moved to stop him but the templar let out a savage grin and snapped his fingers. Darkness gathered around him as his blade glowed with a purple light.
He turned on the warrior with two blades and, though he tried to stop, could not help but attack.
The hero fell from grace and was forced to fight his ally, a man that was a close friend if the look of despair on his face was any indication. The warrior only looked betrayed.
A savage duel followed, sad and short. In the end, the warrior was felled, the hero covered in blood.
And through it all, the templar watched, face steely and resolved, like that of a king… or a tyrant. With its end, the templar entered the palace and vanished, leaving the fallen hero alone.
Images blurred past until returning to a sight I recognized. The hero found a valley between the mountains and carved the cavern with his skills, weapons shattering until only the [Cursed Blade] remained. When he was done, he entered the cave and turned his sword on himself, slumping against the wall as his life drained away.
And then the world faded once more.
It resolved in a myriad of lights and I found myself standing in front of an altar. Thin mist veiled the surroundings, but I could make out the barest outlines of trees.
Needless to say, I was quite confused.
"What did I just see? Or better yet, what just happened?" Obviously, no answers were provided.
With a sigh, I made the gesture to open the map to determine my location. My eyes widened as I saw where I was.
"[Misty Woods]… Ha. Hahaha! Of course! It was all another part of that curse! The teleport failing, the undead horde… all of it was a part of the quest!"
Whether in anger, relief, or sheer insanity, I burst into laughter. Again and again I had been thrust into situations that would have ended a lesser player, all due to possessing this cursed sword. It appeared I could not escape being controlled even here in this digital world.
"No. That will not happen. I will not be the puppet. No more!" I advanced and thrust the [Cursed Blade] into the altar, the slot a perfect fit for the sword.
And then I felt it, a change occurring. My body felt lighter, stronger than before. In addition, I felt a strange sense of euphoria, as if nothing could stop me as long as I fought.
The [Results Screen] appeared before me then, marking the end of the quest [A Warrior's Worth]. I did not gain any experience or col. Instead, it stated that the [Cursed Blade] was now the [Unmarked Sword] and I had gained the "Unique Skill [Cursed Seal]".
Unique skill. Not just a skill, but unique skill. Curious, I opened the menu and examined it.
Skill Name: [Cursed Seal]
Description: The power of a cursed blade now sealed. Grants abilities to the wielder. Level increases by enabling [Deathmatch].
Abilities
[Weapon Master]: Reduces equipment requirements in half. Also increases damage output by a factor of 1.2
[Sealed sword]: (Unlocked at level 5)
[Deathmatch]: You and your opponent cannot retreat. Can be manually activated in combat by stating "this is a fight to the death" if disabled. Can be used on monsters.
[Cursed Fate]: All monsters are drawn towards you. Cannot be disabled.
[Eye of the Mind]: (Unlocked after [Broken Seal])
[Warrior Spirit]: (Unlocked after [Broken Seal])
[Weapon Lock]: (Unlocked at level 10)
[Resonance]: (Unlocked at level 1000)
[Broken Seal]: ?
[XXXX's XXXX]: ?
"Well… I suppose I could use this." I looked back at the [Cursed Blade] in the altar and saw that it had indeed changed. It was still a regal blade, but gone was the violet coloring, replaced by a simple silver and bronze.
I drew it from the altar and returned it to its sheath, turning my back after it was done.
I had succeeded in breaking the curse… or at least sealing it for now. Though monsters would still be drawn to me, I could at least have the option of retreat.
I reexamined the map and determined the exit path before setting out. For once, the day went well. I could finally resume my quest to become the best.
Yet, as I walked, I could not help but feel a pang in my chest. It was strange, a feeling I could not associate. A sort of… emptiness and regret at some unknown cause. But I disregarded it.
Greatness awaited.
A/N: Apologies for the longer wait. Mid-terms are a pain.
Anyway, a glimpse of the Unique Skills and back story of Aincrad is shown. Sen showcases his epic fighting skills as well. He's also starting to realize something about himself, which will come to a conclusion in the next chapter or so.
Cookies to people who can guess the other unique skills or the unstated abilities of Cursed Seal.
Character interactions will also start next chapter. I'm free to recommendations, but the current plan is for him to encounter the front line players. A confrontation between them is inevitable after all.
Next chapter will be a time skip. Hope you enjoyed this! Review if you have any comments or criticisms!
