Fourteen. Fourteen of us gone.
Kirito leaned against Asuna's shoulder, blue feathers half-wrapped around him as they wavered on their feet. Both their HP bars were lower than he'd like, despite the cure grievous potions they'd drunk, but he couldn't complain. With the shreds of healing magic that had fallen into player hands since Klein had called the Silver Flame, a reluctant high-level ranger had had just enough cure spells to keep the pair of them on their feet. Klein and Issin were laying their cures on the last players still suffering the undead corruption left in the Skull Reaper's wake. Moonswords didn't have to worry about that. Much.
Still hurts like hell, though... fourteen. I can't believe it.
"We lost a third of the raid." Asuna wrapped her wing tighter, voice dazed. "Seventy-fifth floor, we knew there'd be a difficulty spike, but... so many of us, this will break guilds, and where will we find more clearers willing to take on bosses like this, before...?"
Before we hit Recon's time limit, and everyone is yanked into Aincrad whether they're willing or not, Kirito finished silently.
He'd done research; he knew Argo was doing more. Nothing they'd found had given even a glimmer of hope they might be wrong. ALO had to be Beniryuu's backup plan; his way to deliver on his end of the bargain with Aincrad no matter what happened in SAO. After all, clearers might die. Players might give up, and retreat again to the Town of Beginnings. The Japanese government might despair of saving anyone from Kayaba's deathtraps, and unilaterally pull the plug on every player left. If Aincrad was going to play Beniryuu's part in the Draconic Prophecies, the ancient red had to have another plan.
I was in ALO. I fought there. The system recognized me. Even with Stheno's magic to transfer my spirit across the planes... we saw what happened with the bebilith. The game glitched around it, because Cardinal had no stats for a demon. But ALO handled me perfectly.
Which meant SAO and ALO avatars were compatible. Which further implied the games and worlds were compatible, and one could substitute for the other.
A backup plan. And there's probably a backup for the backup we don't even know about yet.
Bad enough what they did know about. If what little the swanmay had told them about Beniryuu's eldritch device was accurate, they had a year to break out of SAO. Maybe less. Before this floor Kirito would have said the clearers could have made it to the 100th level in six more months. Now?
Everyone's going to slow down. We have no choice. People are going to need more levels to tackle the next boss, we'll need to train up more people...
Two floors ago Kirito would have been all for slowing down. More time to advance meant more time to plot their escape; to take the shards of magic and lore they'd gained and break loose before a player ever set foot on the hundredth floor. Time to win, not clear the game. Now?
We can't afford to slow down. Not if another demon finds its way in!
They couldn't let a demon loose on earth. Earth had no magic, no divine power. Bombs might work; Aincrad lore said that if you did enough nonmagical damage fast enough you could banish a demon from the material plane. But the carnage even one demon could unleash before the army was called in...
And that's if there's just one, Kirito knew. If the hordes of the Abyssal Planes find the way to Earth - they wouldn't stop. They'd just keep coming.
They couldn't wait. They couldn't risk their homes, their families; all of Japan and beyond. They had to keep fighting.
Even if it costs us... everything.
Bracing himself against that shiver of terror, Kirito looked around. First things first. Killing a red dragon had to come later. For now they had to breathe, regroup; figure out who could go on, who needed a break, who was going to have to fall back to mid-level adventures because they just couldn't take it anymore...
Flash of red.
Heathcliff, Kirito told his shrieking nerves, as a few more snakes focused that direction and made blurry red sharper. Not as sharp as his own gaze behind obsidian lenses, but clear enough to make out silver hair and wings, the red cross on the silvery shield. Guild leader, not another stray add.
And for a moment he drowned in jealous fury, because Heathcliff could look through all the empty places in the raid and still be the perfect, noble knight. Face mild, gaze intent; noble and calm as a carved princely statue. And why not? His lifebar was still squarely in the yellow, not a sliver past half; even one last solid hit from the Reaper wouldn't have killed him-
I never saw him take a potion. Or a cure.
Carefully, very carefully, Kirito moved out from under Asuna's wing.
I could have missed it. The fight was chaos.
Horrible, bloody chaos, and the three of them had been in the thick of it from the moments the room doors slammed shut. No one else had been high enough level, fast enough, to block the Reaper's scything claws and stay alive. If Kirito hadn't hacked his own cures in Draconic so he could trigger them verbally, the pair of them would have been forced to rely on only the planar energy coursing through them for battle healing. They would have had to switch out, and more of the raid would have died.
Heathcliff didn't switch out, Kirito realized. He's draconic, he heals fast - but he's no sorcerer. Pure fighter, the strongest in the game... but he doesn't have cure spells-
Elucidator was out and gleaming, as he swung for the red knight's throat. Steel rang.
Immortal Object.
The world seemed to shade crimson, bloody as the sky on Opening Day.
...Found you.
The clang of steel against the system's defenses shivered down Klein's spine, even as he finished the last heartfelt prayer. Because everything that was supposed to be still alive in this room was a clearer, and all of them had better sense than to hack up the landscape. Weapon durability was your life.
Another add right after a boss fight shouldn't happen!
From the horrified silence that washed over the room, this was no add. Klein glanced up from Dynamm's sealing wound just in time to see-
Oh. Hell.
The purple hexagon winked out, as Heathcliff smirked at the furious Black Swordsman. "Well. Lucky guess."
"It had nothing to do with luck." Every inch of Kirito was focused on his foe, the medusa's black-feathered snakes all facing their prey; still, so still, barely hissing.
Heathcliff is Kayaba. Klein got to his feet, stunned, the rest of Fuurinkazan gathering behind him in shock. Heathcliff is Beniryuu.
He couldn't believe it. He'd listened to Kirito reason it out in stolen moments when the Moonsword had been able to cloak them from the system, and he still couldn't believe it.
And he's god-modded the system so he's a damn Immortal Object. We are so screwed...
"I wondered from the start," Kirito went on. "Thousands of people, trapped to fight and die... even a human programmer couldn't just walk away from that. He'd be watching. In the system. Somehow." A slow, hissed breath. "And then we started putting the lore of Aincrad together. All of us. Beniryuu."
Heathcliff's slow, slow smile made the blood boil in Klein's veins. Made him want to let the tiger loose for once, to rend and bite and devour.
No. Stop. Think, Klein told that red fury, holding it back with friendship and the touch of silver fire in his soul. We planned for this. Even if half our plan was "oh gods we'd better get lucky..."
"Really." Red armor shifted with his stance, as the dragon in youkai form watched a swordsman's stillness. "I'm curious. What do you think you know?"
"The twenty-fifth floor must have scared you." Kirito's voice would have been cold, to ears that couldn't pick out that vibrating fury underneath. "The first floor almost broke the players' will. The twenty-fifth almost broke them again, and I wasn't stupid enough to hang around and play scapegoat that time. If you wanted to make sure the curse took, if you wanted players to set foot on the hundredth floor and trap themselves as youkai forever... someone had to make sure the clearers kept moving. Someone had to be the noble hero." A twitch of pale lips; not a smile, but bared teeth. "Besides. It's so boring to watch other people play a game. Why not get in on the fun? It wasn't like you would die."
"Kirito," Asuna whispered. Sword half-raised, as if she still couldn't believe it herself.
Can't blame her, Klein knew. Her own guildmaster. Bastard.
The bastard who was laughing. Klein tensed, Issin's hand on his shoulder just barely holding him back.
"Well," Heathcliff mused, turning away, "it has been fun. I'd hoped to draw it out longer, until the ninety-sixth floor... but you already know what you have to do. Clear the game, or die."
"Or don't clear it, and be stolen into your war anyway," Kirito said flatly. "That's what you want, isn't it. You want the youkai lords to win in the worst way. You'll give them fighters, fresh blood; young youkai who'll keep the Five Kingdoms from destroying them. And then you'll sit back and watch as we destroy each other. The youkai lords want willing warriors. You want to make sure they'll get people who hate what they are. Who didn't have a choice. All so Aincrad exists - just barely exists - to keep your Prophecies intact."
Heathcliff stopped.
Oh great, Klein thought, frozen; even the tiger inside wanted to cower and flee. We got his attention.
...Wait. Think. Why are we so scared? Yeah, he's a dragon, yeah he's the bastard who got us all into this mess - but we're clearers. We're stronger than this-
Draconic aura. Fear. You bastard!
No wonder every clearer was stopped in their tracks, and Kirito's knees were just barely holding steady. Even with all the magic of a ranger's favored enemy working on his side, dragons were just that terrifying.
But you're not facing him alone. Klein braced himself, and owned the fear; holding it in his mind like sharp-edged glass. We're scared. We've got every reason to be scared. But we're not going to run. We're going to stomp this evil like spoiled grapes, and then set it on fire.
We just need a little help, here...
"So a child could see what the Seer of Aincrad could not," Heathcliff mused. "I suppose there is some use to your world's repositories of lore after all." An armored shrug. "It will be interesting to see if that lore has kept you alive, when we all meet again."
Asuna's eyes flashed. "You're not going anywhere, you-!"
It was like getting a full-face blast of yellow musk zombie pollen, with poison resistance an epic fail. Klein felt his knees fold, and barely kept himself kneeling as every player hit the floor hard.
"I go where I please, little two-legs. You lived in our world; you took on the mantle of our power. Of our very blood. And now every clearer is enmeshed in my spell." Heathcliff stood over the fallen Black Swordsman, face carved and cold once more. "None of you can stand against me."
One final, dismissive glance, and the armored warrior stalked away.
Softly, Kirito laughed. "Beniryuu."
Armored boots halted.
On the floor, Kirito lifted his head, and then one shaking hand. "Did you think we didn't plan for that, too?"
It took everything he had. And maybe a little more he didn't; he could feel Klein's aura of courage flowing over him, buffering him against a dragon's supernatural fear. But Kirito lifted his hand and drew it down, just enough to open the menu.
Unequip.
Blurry snakevision vanished; the writhing sense of serpents squirming from his skull finally gone, as the mask with Connlan's bloodstone fell away.
I'm me again. Thank goodness.
It'd been hard, passing the last three weeks as a medusa; listening to the taunts of human players, the well-meant welcomes of youkai, the creeping nightmares of, what if the mask gets stuck?
Because it might have. Player-made enchanted items always, always had a chance to fail. And this one had been enchanted under Argo's hands, using Connlan's bloodstone as its heart; the bloodstone Stheno wanted him to have, and claim, and be.
We couldn't risk anything less. Less than one player in a thousand has what it takes to be a medusa. Beniryuu would never believe Stheno would let another youkai get their claws in me.
And Kirito couldn't risk taking the mask off, in case the exploits and spells he'd used to stymie Cardinal's watching systems weren't quite enough. Three weeks.
But it had come off. If he lived, he'd have to give Argo a box of the best sweets. Though she might have warned him about the snakevison headache. Ow.
There wasn't any other way. We had to smoke him out. As long as Beniryuu thought even one clearer was still human, he'd never have let his guard down...
Ice went down his spine, the warm aura of courage shredded by pure terror. He'd never. Ever. Seen such thunderous fury on a humanoid face. Literally thunderous; SAO's emotion engine had sparks crackling over Heathcliff's head from a mini-thunderstorm.
He's having a bad day, an impish part of Kirito's mind pointed out. Let's make it a worse one.
Drawing in a breath, Kirito took off obsidian lenses, and stood.
"Seriously?" It was almost a yelp from the floor. "Seventy-five floors, and you're still human?"
Kirito stifled a laugh; he hadn't heard a certain axe-wielding merchant hit that note of disbelief since the Ragout Rabbit. "Sorry, Agil. The less people who knew about this, the better."
"How." Heathcliff's voice was hammered iron. "Cardinal should have detected your racial status. Lady Stheno's scrying read you as one of her own. How did you conceal this?"
Kirito made his eyes as wide and innocent and annoying as he could manage. Even with mixed wizard, Moonsword, and ranger magic to draw on, he and Argo weren't sure quite how they'd pulled it off. Hacking Draconic wasn't as straightforward as it looked. "I guess you'll have to beat me to find out."
"Beat you." There was a growl under the words. "You can't possibly believe that would be a challenge."
"Isn't it?" In the real world, Kirito was sure his heart was beating like a hummingbird's. "You meant to face us all on the hundredth floor. Do you think some of us can't face you now?" Calm. Keep calm. It's more insulting. "Or is the great ancient red, Beniryuu, too afraid to make a little wager with a human? Say... about twelve thousand lives?"
"Wager?" A slight upward curve of those graven lips. "You may be human, child, but you're still inside my world. You'll tell me. The only question is how long, and how much pain."
Lawful Evil red, willing to use torture and who knows what else, check. If I die, I hope it's quick.
...I'm not going to die here. For all of us. I am not going to die!
"You're right," Kirito mused, feeling the sweat trickle down his face. "We're in your world. Sword Art Online. So you have no choice. After all, you're the final boss. Defeat you, and Aincrad is cleared."
"Arrogant child." Silver brows flicked up. Shield grounded, Heathcliff raised one dismissive hand, dragged down, stabbed one finger forward-
Nothing happened.
Slowly, Kirito made himself smile.
This is a sealed boss room. And I just triggered a boss fight.
No one gets out of here until one of us is dead.
"Don't feel too bad," Kirito shrugged, surreptitiously loosening his shoulders. "I mean, you're over a thousand years old, but I grew... up... with computers..."
Shimmering crimson scales. Burning gold eyes. Fangs easily a yard long. And a huff of breath hotter than the gusts from Lisbeth's forge.
He's... a lot bigger than X'rphan.
And he had to pick now to remember he'd never seriously tried to kill the White Wyrm of the fifty-fifth floor. Dodge, definitely; parry the freezing breath, and attack it just enough to get himself and Lisbeth clear of the lair, once they had the minerals to forge Dark Repulser. Kill it? That had taken a full raid.
And whites are the weakest true dragons.
I'm in trouble.
"I always thought it would be you who stood before me at the end, little Moonsword." Beniryuu's voice rumbled through his bones. "Dual Wielding was the gift I gave Cardinal, bestowed upon the player whose will and nerve made him the fastest of all." Teeth gleamed, white as bone. "It was only fair, to give one blessing to the boy destined to face the lord of dragons."
How long do I let him talk? Dragonskin is stronger than plate armor; where can I attack, and actually do damage?
"Faster and stronger with every level; it seemed logical that you had taken up Cato's blood," the dragon mused. "Your world, your games, hold surprises even for one who has seen a thousand years." Another steaming breath; the red throat swelled with gathering flames. "But it will not be enough to save you."
Spinning Shield as I dodge, it'll be my only chance - oh gods Asuna is behind me-!
"Kirito!" Hands pushing against the spell's weight, Asuna raised blazing eyes. "Solo! You always know when you trigger a boss; you always have a backup plan-!"
It broke the edges of dragonfear clouding his mind. Kirito raised his head, months of late-night planning surging back. "Contingency - Kayaba!"
The dragon flailed, burning in violet and black.
Darkfire, Kirito thought, braced and ready, as months of casting with Argo and any other magic-crafting player they could swear to silence fired in one massive contingency spell. The power of Shadow, to cut through dimensions and hit anything.
Beniryuu howled, fire-breath guttering, as silver laced through darkfire flames.
Divine power. The trickiest part of Argo's spell-weaving, getting the Silver Flame's power to cooperate against a curse-casting dragon. Though given the dragon was directly responsible for murderous lycanthropic infections, the Flame hadn't been that hard to persuade.
And it likes Klein. It should, he's more a paladin than any of us-
Trapped in violet and silver, the dragon's form convulsed; blue sparks arcing from spine to spine, pulling and drawing Beniryuu's body in on itself.
Risia's power; Asuna's power. Cold lightning against the heart of flame.
And more colors, more power; spell layered atop spell with all the heart and soul desperate players could muster, until even an ancient dragon's magical resistance had to-
Air cracked, the implosion after a lightning strike.
Dazed, Heathcliff stood before them once more, armor slightly singed.
Kirito set his stance, lightheaded with relief. It worked. It actually worked.
In his mind he could all but hear the Rat sniff, because of course my spells worked, Kii-bou, what were you worried about?
"You forced us all to fight and die, cursed us to become youkai for your little war," Kirito threw in the polymorphed dragon's face. "Your turn."
He could hear Klein praying, low and fervent, and hoped it'd pry that awful fear off the rest of the raid before someone's mind broke. Issin's firebird could heal bodies, but insanity was something else. But Klein was just one paladin, even with a shaman to help, and from the trembling bodies on the floor... so far, it wasn't looking good for the good guys.
Sorry, Klein. You're probably going to be mad at me after this.
Klein would have waited for Heathcliff to throw off his spell-shock. Fuurinkazan would have given even a red dragon a moment to collect himself before beginning the duel.
I'm not a hero.
This isn't a duel.
I'm going to kill him.
Swords ready, Kirito raced forward.
Sometimes Asuna forgot how fast her partner was.
Fighting beside him, all that mattered was that Kirito was as fast as she was. That he was always, always in position to give her an opening to stab, or take advantage of the holes she'd carved in enemies' defenses. Even when she was just fighting low-level monsters for ingredients, she didn't let her mind wander; a moment of distraction could put claws at her neck, and if the system rolled a critical hit, even a displacer kitten could kill.
But right now all she could do was watch, fingers clenched on stone, and pray along with Klein as Kirito blazed across the battlefield like a night-black star.
Twin hit, Asuna registered. Deep.
Or it would have been, on any regular mob. Heathcliff's armor and skill at guarding his vitals led to most of the blow glancing off, even with darkfire gnawing at flesh and soul.
Kirito's faster. But - DPS versus tank. Not good.
Worse, versus a tank who knew exactly how to fight other players. Heathcliff loved to duel.
Asuna swallowed. And this was why, Beniryuu always knew he'd be fighting us!
Golden light blazed; she wasn't quick enough to close her eyes. But she didn't need to see to know what was coming.
Holy Sword. That shield-!
No sound of impact, just the subtle clink of shifty armor and whispers that might or might not have been one determined Moonsword making tracks. Blind or not, Kirito must have dodged it.
I wish he had the mask on. Argo said it was almost impossible to blind all her snakes.
Asuna blinked streaming eyes; she hadn't been the target, the blinding light should have had minimal effect. Yet even now spots barely let her catch part of the world fading to gray...
Familiar gray, laced with veins of violet. Masking a wide patch in front of Heathcliff in fog too thick to see through.
Asuna breathed out, hope creeping back. Breath of Night.
Kirito had taught her that invocation one time they'd partied together. It looked different for every sorcerer, hers crackled with cold blue lightning, but the effects were the same; an AoE centered on the sorcerer that only they could see through. As a guild fencer she didn't use it often, but for a solo who had to escape random mobs it was priceless.
From the angry curl of the Commander's lip, he'd seen the invocation before. And from his unwavering gaze, he thought he had a fair idea where Kirito was, mist or no mist.
Asuna saw how armored feet shifted, and knew. He's going to hit the mist's center.
Heathcliff charged, the cross-shaped shield vanishing into mist. Steel sang.
Sword Skill. Asuna tensed, listening to the pitch of it. But no impact-
And then there was, fast and furious and definitely not Heathcliff's greatsword.
Red armor staggered out the other side of the mist, trailing violet wisps and at least three new wounds, a truly outraged look thinning the fighter's lips.
Kirito... wasn't in the center? Asuna almost groaned. Argo. Had to be something he got from Argo.
That or Kirito had hacked the invocation himself. Her husband just wasn't happy unless he had at least three tricks up his sleeve.
And you didn't think you'd miss, did you, Commander? Dragons have blindsense. And that made Asuna's vision go red with pure fury, because it was yet another puzzle piece falling into place of how Heathcliff had come untouched through so many boss battles...
"We stand against those who would corrupt and twist the world," Klein breathed, fingers gripping silver. "Which would be a little easier if we could, y'know, stand. Not fair Kirito's facing a freaking floor boss on his own. If even one of us could give him a hand..."
Even one, Asuna agreed silently. Please, if I could just fight with him!
Her ears brought her a bare, familiar whisper through the fog; of night, and the dark beyond all night.
Moonsword. Asuna almost bared her teeth. We have ways to handle blinds!
Mist surged over Heathcliff, and steel rang on steel.
Red armor pulled free, a fighter's maai blasting the invocation to misty shreds. Heathcliff swerved to face his revealed foe, sword slashing across and down like an avalanche through black leather-
Through a wavering image of black leather, that took the blow with not a trace of gleaming red injury.
Displacer's Shadow, Asuna realized. It has to be. Yes! Heathcliff never saw that used, Kirito's the only sorcerer with Shadow, he's got no idea how to face it!
Elucidator shimmered, striking a yard away from Heathcliff's side-
With an ear-piercing shriek, the cross-shield braced against seeming air. Light blazed.
Eyes jammed shut, Asuna's hands clenched, thumping stone flagstones. Because Heathcliff had never seen the invocation but Beniryuu had designed it. Like he'd designed everything in SAO.
It was never meant to be a fair fight. How can we win when he made all the rules?
Argo's spell had worked, but it wasn't enough. Heathcliff's build didn't have much magic, but it didn't have to; his heavier strikes interrupted most attacks, his focused intent was cutting through invocations that touched him, and any of his blows that landed would punch through Kirito's light leather armor like it'd been made of paper. Without the Moonsword's constant use of Shadow, too many would have landed already.
Asuna swallowed, as Kirito ducked under one sword-strike by a paper's width. If it wasn't for that crazy coat...
The hide of an adult black dragon would be weaker than Beniryuu's own scales, but it was still the best light armor she'd seen in the past ten levels. Between that and his chestpiece Kirito could evade damage from most blows that didn't hit him directly.
Speed versus armor, and he's already exhausted.
"Let us burn away these chains of fear," Klein murmured, low and intent. "C'mon, we can do this people, just believe..."
Believe. Asuna swallowed, struggling to hands and knees. I want to believe. But-
She couldn't read the icons on her partner's menu, but she didn't have to. All Kirito's ranger spells were on cooldown, and while he had a sorcerer's invocations at his fingertips, no one could cast those forever. He'd burned most of his magic keeping them both healed through the boss fight, and there'd been no time to rest and meditate. He still had darkfire-
But Beniryuu is a red dragon, Asuna knew, fighting the press of magic; fingers brushing her rapier's hilt as she read the set of her ex-guildmaster's shoulders, the narrowed eyes that thought they had his opponent's measure, the brace that meant Heathcliff was about to pull a shield-bash. Which made no sense. She knew Kirito, and his weapon stats. Fast as Heathcliff was, that bash wouldn't have a prayer of clipping Kirito's body, and no one with merely draconic strength could hope to damage those blades. Darkfire cuts through magic resistance, but even polymorphed, a red's still going to have a dragon's stats. Which means fire resistance, and- No!
Dark Repulser shattered, shards drawing blood from Kirito's face. Only reflexes and a blink saved him from blindness.
The status blinking in his vision was almost worse.
Stun. Ten seconds.
I'm dead.
And his ghost was going to haunt the Rat forever, because one of those spell-splices must have managed polymorph, but not the baleful polymorph effects they'd prayed for. Meaning the Heathcliff he was up against was humanoid only in outward form.
Red dragon strength. No sword would stand a chance.
Heathcliff smirked, bringing up his sword with deliberate slowness, angled for the perfect throat strike to kill.
At least I'll see it coming-
Red armor jerked, Heathcliff's smirk turning to painful surprise. Raised steel froze, quivering.
Kirito blinked, fighting the last moments of stun as a blur of blue and white resolved into Asuna's form, wings still spread in the beat that had driven her rapier through the gap under Heathcliff's arm.
Vital organs. Critical hit.
The wounded dragon huffed, lifebar bleeding away. "Then shall human and youkai fight, and crimson fall like rain. Who'd have thought the Prophecies... would hold here..."
Glowing white, Beniryuu's avatar shattered.
"Kirito!" Asuna caught him as he sagged, thumping down on her own knees as they leaned against each other and breathed. "I didn't - I didn't think I'd be in time... oh Klein, thank you."
"Hey, anything for the lovely lady!" Still on his knees, Klein threw them a thumb's-up. "Just glad the Flame thought burning off evil dragon paralysis was a valid assist." Still shaky, he got to his feet, helping Issin up so they could get the rest of the guild moving. "Okay, dragon dead. Or at least out of the game with a headache, anybody think he's really dead, the bastard. Now what do we-?"
The world rang, a chime sounding through every mind like the deadly bells on Opening Day.
"Final boss cleared. Automatic logout initiated. Final boss cleared. Automatic logout-"