"The effective use of magic in combat requires more than just the rote memorization of spellwords and the skill level necessary to cast a given spell. It also requires the knowledge of which spells to use, and when. It is not always desirable to use your most powerful spell; it might deplete your MP quickly or have a long cooldown timer, leaving you without it at a critical moment. But most of all, it is essential to know the resistances and weaknesses of your opponents. Imps, for example, are highly resistant to the status effects of Dark magic, and using Fire against a Salamander is an excellent way to waste your MP…"
—Alfheim Online Manual, «Resistances and Weaknesses»
Argo knew that it was only the keener eyesight of the Cait Sith that allowed her and her two traveling companions to distinguish the flight trails of the incoming Imps from one another at this distance. If she could barely tell herself, it was a sure bet that the three Sylphs with whom they were traveling couldn't—and they might be having trouble even seeing the glowing violet lines that traced a curving path across the massive subterranean chamber of Lugru.
She counted silently, and then turned to the others. "Three incoming. Can't tell what their equipment is like from this distance, but if it's a balanced PK group they'll probably have a mage, a tank, and either an archer or another melee type."
"So we outnumber them?" Gataki said hopefully, sticking several arrows in the ground in front of him and nocking one.
"Yes and no," Thelvin said without taking his eyes off of the still-distant threat. "By numbers, yes, but they have us at an extreme disadvantage. We only have two sources of ranged DPS, plus whatever basic spells the rest of us can muster. They'll have at least one, more likely two… and most importantly, they can fly and we can't."
"And we're stuck on a narrow stairway that's uncomfortably high off the ground," Chihae said grimly as she checked the durability on her sword.
Thelvin nodded. "Just so. I'd say we have about a minute until they get here. Maybe less."
"Hang on," Natsuo said suddenly. "Do we really know that they're out to PK? They could be here for the same reason we are."
"Do you believe in Santa Claus too?" Argo asked cheerfully. The Sylph mage glared at her. "Well neither do I. And I don't believe in parties of Imps deep within Sylph territory who're here to visit their sick grandmothers either. So I suggest if you've got buffs, you start casting them."
"She's right, Nachin," Chihae said, putting a hand on her husband's shoulder as she used what Argo assumed had to be a pet name. "Give your haste buff to Gataki, get ready to use your wind shield if they have an archer, and pour everything else into knocking them out of the air."
"And aim low," Thelvin added. In answer to the puzzled looks from the Sylphs, he explained. "Their wings will tire faster if you force them to ascend."
"What about me?" Sasamaru asked. Argo knew he had to be young, probably around her own age—but at that moment he looked every bit the scared kid that he was. She could sympathize—without the ability to fly, his spear wouldn't be much use in the coming fight.
"Stand over there by Natsuo and be ready to fend off hit-and-run melee strikes," she said after thinking it over for a moment. "Make sure none of them can get close to him."
"They're coming," Thelvin said urgently, his shield held at ready.
Argo saw lines of golden glyphs begin to circle around the bodies of the incoming Imps, and as she counted and interpreted the symbols that coalesced, she yelled. "Blindness! Don't let it hit you!"
"Get behind me!" shouted Natsuo. As Sasamaru and Chihae complied, he quickly chanted a series of spellwords of his own, and a gust of wind rushed past him, forming into a shimmering barrier. Streaks of violet-black energy splattered against the short-lived shield, and Argo saw another splash across Thelvin's physical shield as a flare of blue light reacted from within the enchanted item. A portion of the spell's effects seemed to soak through the defense, causing black fire to flicker briefly in Thelvin's eyes, but he gritted his teeth until his sight returned a moment later.
A streak of brilliant green energy raced away from Gataki's bow, curving in the air and seeking one of the Imps who'd attempted to evade it. Argo recognized the skill; it had probably taken close to half of his MP, but she approved of using the homing attack up-front to try to improve their odds. The bolt took the Imp in the back, exploding in an actinic flash of light and sending him tumbling out of control.
But as Argo had suspected, they weren't the only party with a mage. The Imp caster's robes fluttered vigorously in the wind as he evaded one of Gataki's arrows, and he rattled off a series of words that formed into a javelin of black energy in his right hand, which he hurled with alarming speed at Argo.
Before she could react, Thelvin was in front of her, dropping to one knee and bracing as he absorbed the projectile against his shield. The explosion that followed sent him reeling backwards into Argo, and she saw his HP go down by close to a tenth.
As she went sprawling to the ground, scrambling for purchase on the stone steps, she saw the third Imp arc towards them, skimming the surface of the wall to avoid Gataki's arrows as he readied what looked like a sword skill. Thelvin was still recovering from the explosion; a status icon beside his HP gauge showed that he was momentarily stunned.
Argo extended her steel claws to their full length and prepared to use a technique of her own to block the strike. But before the Imp could reach her, she heard Natsuo chanting again and saw the air shimmer as a gust of wind slammed into the Imp, using his own momentum to slam him against the rock wall he was skimming so closely. He bounced off the wall and struck the stairs, tumbling towards Argo's group as he tried to regain control.
Under the circumstances, Argo wasn't inclined to give him the chance. Ears flat against her head, she dashed towards the injured Imp as he came up to one knee and brought his weapon to bear on her. She recognized the opening motions of the sword skill he planned to use next, and she was already leaping above the attack as his crosscut sliced the air and sank into the rock wall to his right.
As she came down, Argo kicked off the flat of his entrapped sword blade and flipped to a landing behind the shocked Imp, sinking both claws into his back all the way to the knuckles. The player screamed in a very convincing way; even though he wouldn't feel any pain from the blow, she knew it had to be a very unpleasant sensation—and some of it had to be from the fear of impending death as well.
This wasn't the time for sympathy or mercy, though—this was life and death, and Argo chose to err on the side of living. As soon as she was released from the recovery frame of her Double Backstab technique, Argo ripped both claws up and out, and watched the Imp's HP gauge go from yellow to red. That was when Thelvin reached them and backhanded the helpless Imp with his shield, sending him spiraling off the edge of the cliff. The doomed player's screams echoed off the stone walls as he erupted into purple flames in mid-air, his Remain Light hanging there in the air like a flaming tombstone.
Sending a look of wordless thanks to Thelvin, Argo turned her attention back to the rest of the battle. The death of their comrade seemed to have visibly shaken the other Imps, who pulled up short out of melee range and looked at each other. Argo saw Gataki and Natsuo take the opportunity to uncork and drink a small blue potion each, replenishing some of their MP, while Thelvin positioned himself in front of Argo and glared over his shield. "Six to two now, gentlemen," he boomed out, projecting to make sure his voice carried. "Your move."
The Imps exchanged another glance. One of them snarled and held his hands out, beginning to chant while the other looked at him in alarm and opened his mouth. The first mage's words were interrupted by a streak of green that shot out from Gataki's bow; having replenished his MP, he'd chosen to unleash his homing attack again, for which Argo knew the long cooldown timer had to have just ended. It took the Imp squarely in the chest just below his throat, and the explosion of energy sent him tumbling out of control with his HP in the red. The other shook his head and threw one last dark look back at the victorious party before rocketing off in pursuit of his friend.
Gataki whooped loudly at the retreat and called mockingly after them. "Yeah baby! Suck on that why don't you! Assholes."
While that wouldn't have been Argo's first choice of words, it nicely summed up her feelings all the same. She glanced at her HP gauge; she hadn't been touched and there were no lingering status effects. Thelvin had taken a fair amount of damage, but that was what he was there for, and they both knew it. They shared a look; the others might not realize it, but they'd been incredibly lucky. They'd fought smart as well, she knew, and their opponents had made a few critical mistakes—but luck had been with them, and they hadn't lost anyone.
Natsuo turned out to have a little bit of water magic as well; it wasn't necessary to waste potions on healing once his MP had recovered. He and Chihae embraced when they were all done, holding each other tightly as the knowledge that they were safe sank in.
"You fought well," Thelvin said as he watched his HP climb back up to max. "As well as any veteran tester. Gataki and Natsuo especially—your bow and magic, respectively, turned the tide there."
Argo glanced out across the vast empty space above the town of Lugru, watching the flight trails of the two Imps arc slowly towards the town itself. As she did, out of the corner of her eye she caught the floating Remain Light of the defeated Imp flicker once and then extinguish.
She closed her eyes. The light wasn't all that had just been extinguished. At that very moment, she knew, in a hospital room somewhere in Japan, monitors would begin sounding a steady tone as the player's Nerve Gear destroyed their brain, their body probably briefly convulsing in one last reflex before becoming still.
Suddenly she was very, very glad that she hadn't been the one to strike the final blow. She looked over at Thelvin, whose expression was unreadable.
"Let's go," she said with sudden fierceness. "Before they decide to come back with friends."
It was sound advice, and it gave them motivation to drive themselves onward as quickly as they could, but no one else accosted them as they descended the remainder of the way to the bottom, and everyone breathed a huge sigh of relief once their feet left the stairs and touched the ground. They ran the rest of the way, ran as fast as they could across the long, wide bridge that spanned the underground lake until they reached the gates of Lugru itself.
Relief suddenly flooded Argo like a cold wave as she saw a purple message appear at the top of her vision, the words «Safe Zone: Town of Lugru» fading in and then back out a few seconds later. This was neutral territory, and no one's HP could decrease now that they were within the boundaries of the town.
They bid their farewells there to Chihae and her party, their bows considerably deeper and more respectful now that they'd fought at each other's sides. Thelvin exchanged friend requests with Chihae, a fact of which Argo took note; it gave her another possible information source within the Sylphs, and that never hurt.
As the three Sylphs headed off into the town for whatever business had brought them there, Argo recalled the agreed-upon meeting place and gestured for Thelvin and Sasamaru to come closer. "Okay, I'm gonna go meet the person I came here for. I suggest you two go hit the shops in the market while we're here; chances are you might find upgrades for your gear."
Thelvin nodded, punching Sasamaru in the arm. "You heard her. Come on, it wouldn't be a bad idea to replace that spear of yours and get our equipment repaired."
Repairing her own weapons wouldn't be the worst idea in the world, but Argo set the thought aside as she walked the streets of Lugru. She thought she caught sight of the Imps they'd fought earlier, but it was a fleeting glimpse in the crowd—and it didn't really matter; there was nothing they could do here within the Safe Zone.
Her path took her unerringly towards the town's single inn, a large two-story stone building that exuded comfort and safety from the warm glow in the windows. When she pushed her way through the double doors at the front entrance, it didn't take her long to spot her quarry—Eugene was the only Salamander in the common room, and he was… unmistakable.
He recognized Argo as well, and waved her over to an empty seat. She glanced around the room and quickly took stock of the surroundings; there were a few other players in the room—a pair of Sylphs in one of the far corners—but they were occupied with their own conversation. She slid gracefully into the chair across the table from the massive Salamander.
"Eugene. Been a while. How you holding up?"
He shrugged and gave her a rueful smile. "As well as one can in exile, with a brother held prisoner far away."
"Yeah, about that." Argo's brown eyes searched Eugene's face. It wasn't that she precisely distrusted him… but with the stakes being what they were, she had to be sure. "I need to know what happened if I'm gonna help you."
Nodding, Eugene tossed back a cup of steaming sake and steepled his fingers, elbows on the table. "I know you have people in the Salamanders. You probably know that Mort and I opposed Kibaou's power grab and that… audacious assault on the Imps." When Argo simply dipped her head once, he went on. "Kibaou didn't care for that very much. He already had the majority of the faction behind him the first night, and he invited us to some kind of summit between the leadership candidates."
At that point, Eugene scowled darkly. "It was a trap, and we were fools not to see it. He lured us into a room and barred the door, knowing that he couldn't harm us within the city or imprison us without having the leadership vote. And once that vote happened… well, he had the power to do whatever he wanted. He needed Mortimer's strategic genius, but he must've been scared of me challenging him to a duel for the leadership—he kept me imprisoned and isolated, and told Mort that if he didn't cooperate, I'd be exiled."
"Which you are anyway," Argo said. "So what happened?"
Eugene barked a laugh. "I tried to escape, of course. Almost worked, too. There are plenty of Salamanders who aren't on board with Kibaou's methods, and a particularly sympathetic player ended up assigned to guard my room one night. He and I tried to spring Mort, but…" He grimaced. "I was the only one who got away, and Kibaou designated me an exile almost immediately."
Argo grimaced as well. That was a problem. It meant that Eugene's cursor would be red to any Salamander players, calling him out as a hostile. It meant that he couldn't enter Gattan without being attacked by any NPC guards he encountered. In short, it meant that Eugene was in no position to help rescue his brother.
"What do you want from me?" she asked bluntly.
"Your help," Eugene said. "Kibaou's hold on the faction right now is tenuous. To be frank, he's a shitty leader who's in over his head. There's growing unrest both from the aggressive players who are dissatisfied with the lack of progress, and the sympathetic ones who've never supported him. He doesn't allow anyone close who might be strong enough to challenge him, and he's kept Mort isolated so that he can't stir up trouble or even level himself up to become a threat. I could challenge him, and probably beat him—but in order to do that, we have to lure him out of Gattan. And before I do, we have to rescue Mort—otherwise Kibaou will be able to use his life as leverage." Eugene's severe, craggy features looked pained. "I can't sacrifice my own brother."
"You have a plan," Argo observed.
Eugene's nod was firm and sharp. "I do. I mentioned that there's unrest in the Salamanders. We can use that. Kibaou needs to make a play soon, something that will restore his sagging popularity to stave off challenges and keep him on top when the next vote happens. I think he's going to raid the valley boss."
"Why haven't they broken through already?"
"Because Kibaou wants the better drops that come from waiting."
Suddenly it made sense to Argo. There'd been a rumor during the beta that each time a valley boss was defeated, the remaining bosses would become stronger but drop better loot. It was intended to encourage factions to rush to clear them, but a few had realized that if they positioned themselves to raid the last remaining boss, they could maximize their returns.
A plan started forming in Argo's head. At the moment, her only surviving contact within the Salamanders was Kibaou's own lieutenant, a player named Corvatz. She'd been playing him from the beginning, feeding him just enough useful information to lead him to believe that she was his source. He'd be useful, but she wouldn't be able to count on his help for rescuing Mort. She'd need someone else who could safely enter Gattan.
"Alright," she said finally. "I think I know how we can pull this off."
·:·:·:·:·:·
The Valley of Giants yawned before them, snow-covered hills rising steeply until they became mountains which reached for the sky well beyond the altitude limit of any player. The midday sky was light gray in color, overcast but mercifully free of snowfall.
Klein and his party trudged through the snow on the left flank of the raid group as their wings rested, the cold somewhat mitigated by the constant effort of both walking and clearing. Thankfully the trash mobs they encountered were no threat—those which didn't flee before the mass of players became short work. As they were part of a raid group, the EXP gain from these trash fights was minimal—but leveling up wasn't the point of this journey. A much more serious fight awaited them further within the valley.
As they started to encounter the Jotunn that gave the valley its name, Klein had occasion to wonder just how hard these fights would be if his group hadn't been in a raid with more than forty other players. The giants towered over them at nearly thrice man-height, forcing them to take to the air and fight nimbly there in order to combat them effectively.
In these fights, Klein was more grateful than ever that he'd begun to get the hang of Voluntary Flight, and although it was still awkward and tiring, it still made him far more agile than he'd been with the controller. The thought brought to mind the Spriggan who'd helped him on his first day in the game; occasionally he glanced over at the group of which Kirito was a part, but they were on opposite flanks and hadn't had the opportunity to speak.
At last they drew within sight of a massive glacier which blocked the valley ahead of them, the icy cliff rising halfway to the peaks of the mountains that formed the walls of the valley. A sharp whistle rang out and echoed as the raid leader, Crichton, called everyone to a halt.
"This is it, boys! Take a few minutes to rest, get your wings to full and recover all your HP and MP if you ain't at max. Y'all gonna need everything you got in this fight, and that's the truth of it."
Not for the first time, Klein snickered as he wondered how the women in the raid group felt about being called "boys". There weren't that many of them, but the few that were there were hard to miss. Crichton's rural accent had a certain charm to it, but it was sometimes hard to follow.
Still, the advice was good, regardless of how it was delivered. He checked his own group over, making sure everyone was in peak condition and reviewing strategy.
According to Crichton's briefing, the boss was a particularly large giant which would spawn once they got close enough to the glacier. It was slow but powerful, with a frost breath ranged attack that Klein knew would be particularly dangerous to him. It would be resistant to physical damage, which was why the raid was heavy on mages, and it would have a whopping three HP bars to knock down. There would be adds as well, each of the minions nearly a minor boss of its own.
And it was time to face it.
At Crichton's signal, the mages started casting their buffs, stacking every possible advantage on the main tank group as the vanguard advanced. When the lead tank had crossed some kind of invisible line, a deep rumbling seemed to shake the very valley itself, birds taking flight from the sparse trees while snow cascaded from the pine needles and from the walls of the glacier in a fine white cloud. Then the lower part of the glacier itself seemed to explode, chunks of ice anywhere from pebble-sized to the mass of a passenger car spraying outwards in a cone; one such chunk took an unlucky player squarely and nearly annihilated his entire HP gauge from the impact.
Behind this explosion came a roar that seemed to vibrate the air, and from the hole in the glacier emerged what Klein assumed had to be the Jotunn boss. It was truly giant, possibly as much as twenty meters in height and almost half as broad around its barrel chest. Thick brownish-blue hair covered its body, and in its right hand it held a tree, the trunk forming the shaft of the weapon nearly a meter in diameter itself. A great shield of rock and ice the size of a backyard swimming pool guarded its left side.
It charged. For something that was supposed to be slow, Klein had time only to marvel that "slow" was a relative term—with legs that size, it was capable of covering ground with alarming speed. The left and right flanks of the raid split off while the main tank group charged in and took aggro by getting nearly in the giant's face. A blast of frost washed over the main tank's shield, and even despite the protective buffs the attack still took more than a quarter of his HP bar.
But that wasn't Klein's problem to deal with. As part of the left flank, they had a specific role to fill, one that became critical almost immediately as the Jotunn's roar echoed down the valley. A handful of smaller Jotunn came bursting out of the snow and charged towards the main force of the raid. "Smaller" being something of a relative term as well—each of these was slightly larger than the usual trash mobs, only a little less than half the size of the boss itself.
"Adds!" Klein shouted, moving his group to intercept one of the mobs before they could plow into the mage groups or distract anyone else. He parried an enraged swing from the mob's club, creating an opening into which Dale leapt with his war axe, cleaving an angry red gash across the giant's belly.
Its retaliatory swing was intercepted by Harry One's shield, the blow knocking off a chunk of his HP even through the defense and sending him careening back—but when the club rebounded back as well, Klein zoomed in and struck again with a three-hit skill. With Issin's arrows sinking into the mob whenever he had a clear shot, they made short work of the add, and it exploded into a great shower of blue particles after several minutes of intense fighting. Klein took a moment to make sure his team was in good shape; they'd fought named mobs in the field which had been easier than that battle.
And it wouldn't be the last. After at least ten minutes of watching the core of the raid batter the giant's defenses, he saw its first HP gauge finally go into the red and then shatter, leaving two to go. When it did, the giant took a deep breath and blasted a massive cone of frost in a wide arc in front of it, forcing the raid to back up and the mages to focus their efforts on restoring the main tank group's health. During this respite, it bellowed loudly again, and another round of adds burst from the snow and forced Klein's group to rush in again and protect the raid's left flank.
The next HP bar took closer to fifteen or twenty minutes to whittle down, long enough that Klein brought his group closer in so that they could add their own minimal ranged DPS to the fight. They saved their wings for when flight was absolutely necessary, as did most of the rest of the raid—only the melee DPS groups were constantly in flight, and they switched off periodically to give each other the chance to rest their wings and recover HP.
Klein took a moment to glance at the clock in his HUD in between the next round of adds while he waited for a healing potion to bring him back up. They'd been fighting for over half an hour now, and everyone was starting to show their weariness. But he could see the light at the end of the tunnel—the Jotunn's final HP gauge was in the yellow, and although its damage resistance seemed to increase each time it lost a bar of health, the coordinated work of the core groups and the exceptional crafted weapons most of them were wielding was slowly but surely whittling it down towards the red.
That was when everything went to hell.
·:·:·:·:·:·
As the Jotunn's final bar of HP turned from yellow to red, the attacks battering against it suddenly began producing nothing but a spray of purple sparks and the occasional flashing message of «Immortal Object». Kirito couldn't read the text from where he hovered on the far right flank of the raid, but he knew that had to be the message—it was common for bosses to briefly become invulnerable while changing forms or stages. A troubled frown crossed his face; there hadn't been anything about a state change in the briefing.
During the brief lull, the raid groups did what they'd done before whenever the boss gave them a respite from its attacks: they took advantage of it and landed out of its reach, resting their flight gauges and healing each other. Kirito saw the left flank start to close back in towards the raid core, and when his own flank groups started to do the same Kirito did a flip in the air to reverse his direction and flew after them.
The boss reared back, a motion that it had done each time an HP gauge disappeared; any moment Kirito expected it to bellow again and summon another group of adds, and he wondered if everyone on the flanks ought to be closing ranks the way they were instead of waiting to intercept. Then his eyes widened as he saw the club and shield drop from the mob's hands, and as it raised its arms high it formed them into fists.
"Get back!" Kirito shouted, knowing that his voice wouldn't carry far enough—and knowing that it was too late even if it did.
With a mighty swing, the Jotunn boss brought both fists down on the ground in front of it, fountains of snow erupting from the points of impact. The ground in the valley shook; every player who had landed was either unbalanced or knocked entirely off their feet. As shockwaves rippled outward from the blow, spikes of ice burst through the snowpack in a wave that spread outwards for some distance. A number of players were impaled by the ice spikes, and a few of them who were already wounded burst into colored flame from the direct hits, without even time to scream.
Those who survived the hits were trapped in place, hanging there in the air with lances of ice pinning them straight through their bodies. As soon as it recovered from its attack, the Jotunn charged into the main force of the raid, noticeably faster now that it wasn't encumbered by its weapon and shield. Its fists flew with frightening speed, shattering players and the spikes on which they were trapped. With half of the main tank group obliterated, the surviving mages were left largely unprotected, and they scattered in every direction in order to avoid the Jotunn's haymakers.
Blasts of arcane energy lanced out from the airborne mages, and their attacks slowly picked away at the giant's remaining HP—but as Kirito raced towards the disintegrating raid, he knew that wouldn't last. There were too few of them, and nothing they did managed to interrupt the Jotunn's attacks. Over a dozen Remain Lights flickered angrily in the field, and at least half again as many players were well below half health, to the point where a single solid blow could kill. There was no cohesion anymore; Crichton had been among the casualties of the main tank group.
Kirito saw the boss begin to inhale, and knew what was coming. A trio of mages hovered just out of melee range, blasting at the mob to keep its attention while their groupmates tried desperately to heal the wounded. Kirito put on a sudden burst of speed, arms wide, and tackled two of the mages with an impact that sent them careening towards the valley wall.
An instant later, a cone of frost from the giant's breath washed across the one mage he hadn't been able to knock away, freezing him solid as his HP gauge went into the red. And that remaining life disappeared as he dropped like a rock and struck the ground below, shattering into icy fragments and leaving behind only a sickly brown Remain Light.
Kirito didn't wait for gratitude from the two he'd just saved. He took off immediately, scanning the field for any sign of the one person whose help he needed. A splash of blood-red armor showed against the snow where the Salamander he'd recognized before was crouched beside a pair of stunned players, his groupmates trying to snap the others out of it before the giant turned its attention to them.
Landing beside him, Kirito grabbed Klein by the arm. "If you want to save them, come with me now and do exactly what I say."
The Salamander player's jaw dropped. "Kirito, what—"
"Now!" And without waiting for an answer, Kirito launched himself into the air, taking only a moment to check the durability on the new sword that Lisbeth had crafted for him—a matte black longsword named «Midnight Avenger», a meter in length with several inches of serrated edge near the double crossguard. Like the metal from which it was forged, it seemed to absorb the very light around it, with only the cutting edges shining dangerously. As expected of Gnomish Carbon Steel, it was still in excellent condition—it was a durability-type metal, and he had no fears that it would fail to get him through the battle. His own health would be gone before his swords's would be.
A familiar buzzing sound came from behind him, and Kirito looked over his shoulder to see the Salamander player catching up with him, his long curved sword at the ready. "Save that," Kirito said. "And take these." He tossed a pair of blue potions back to Klein one by one; he caught them and drank one immediately, taking the hint.
A third of the raid force was dead—more than a dozen casualties in all—and most of the rest were in complete disarray, if they hadn't already fled. As Kirito and Klein flew towards the boss and veered off in opposite directions to evade a blast of frost, Kirito yelled as loud as he could. "I need you to use your strongest fire attacks! Hit it in the face every time you have a clear shot, and don't stop hitting it until you're out of MP! Don't hold back!"
His voice obviously carried well enough; he saw Klein give him a thumbs up and sheathe his sword. Arcane symbols began circling around the Salamander player, and as the Jotunn charged towards them with fists flailing, a multi-projectile barrage of flame bolts shot out and erupted directly on target.
The howls that arose then from the frost giant were like nothing they'd heard yet. No further adds burst from the snow, and the boss clapped both hands to its face as flames licked between its fingers. Kirito was already soaring towards it at top speed, and in the opening created as the giant raised its hands to protect itself from the burning, the coal-black longsword scythed across the mob's belly with a three-hit combo that noticeably reduced the red bar in the giant's gauge.
Kirito executed a swift loop as the mob's fists pounded together where he'd just been, and as soon as the giant started to inhale for another blast of frost, a series of fiery projectiles exploded against its cheek, causing its hands to fly up protectively again as it screamed in pain. Again Kirito unloaded a sword technique against the giant's unguarded belly, and the mob's red HP gauge began to flash rapidly.
"Now, Klein!" Kirito shouted. "Give it everything!"
The blue bar beneath Klein's HP gauge began to darken as it sank towards empty, and the stream of fire bolts that shot from his hands then was unceasing, every few syllables that came from the Salamander's lips causing golden symbols to spin around him and fire to rush down his arms. A wild swing from the giant grazed Kirito as he rushed in heedlessly, the blow causing his HP to hit the yellow zone. His teeth ground together as he spun in midair and swooped below the next swing.
Just as the stream of fire ceased, the angle of Kirito's wings narrowed and he shot straight up, sword glowing with a feral red light as he began to spin. Once, twice, three times the spiraling blow slashed across the mob's belly, and Kirito's rapid ascent narrowly took him past another clap of the Jotunn's hands as he completed the five-hit technique with a crosscut that opened its throat before arcing up and around to cleave straight down into its skull.
If the howls of pain and outrage provoked by the fire attacks had been intense, the screams from these final blows were nothing short of otherworldly. They didn't seem to erupt from the giant's mouth so much as reverberate within Kirito's skull, cracks in the ice radiating out in every direction from below the mob. Its death howl rose steadily to an almost ultrasonic pitch, finally taking on a distorted metallic sound as its body began to ripple and flicker.
As Kirito landed, his MP completely spent, the Jotunn toppled towards him and began to lose its texture. The surface of its body briefly flashed as a wireframe object, then exploded into a gale of blue polygons that flowed over Kirito like a tidal wave, hair and cloak whipping around him from the overpressure as he tilted his head back and closed his eyes.
Exhausted, Kirito sank to his knees, leaning his forehead against the pommel of his sword as it rested tip-down in the ice. A series of triumphant BGM notes played in his ear, and when he looked up he saw the English text «Congratulation!» hanging in the air in letters two meters tall. A «Result» window popped up in front of him, congratulating him for getting the Last Attack and awarding him with an EXP bonus and an item.
He struggled to focus his weary eyes on the window; as he did, the text sprang into clarity. The item was called «Coat of the Jotunn Lord», and even as tired as he was, he still felt a rush of excitement at the stats on it. As he heard the pounding of footsteps and the buzz and hum of approaching wings, he tapped the window to dismiss it and pushed himself up to his feet.
Turning, he saw the survivors of the near-wipe gathering around him, a mixture of astonishment, grief and anger on their faces. Klein's was not the least of those expressions, and as the Salamander landed in front of Kirito he seemed to be struggling to find words.
Kirito found his first. "Thanks, Klein. I couldn't have done that without your fire magic."
"You're thanking me?" Klein's expression rapidly shifted to incredulity. "You goddamn idiot, we should be thanking you!" Before Kirito realized what was happening, Klein had taken a few steps towards him and seized him in a bear hug, lifting him off the ground for a moment. "Seriously, man," he said as he set a stunned Kirito back down. "You saved the raid. You saved all of us."
"Not all," Kirito said solemnly as he watched the last of the Remain Lights on the field disappear. Without rez items or high-level healing magic this early in the game, hitting zero HP might as well be a death sentence.
One of the Puca mages that Kirito had saved with his mid-air tackle came up and set her hand on his arm. "You couldn't have helped them," she said. "Nobody could've. What you pulled off was… extraordinary. And I'm glad to be alive."
Kirito looked around at the general murmur of agreement that rippled through the survivors. He felt himself wanting to cry for some reason, and he turned away so that no one would have to see. "You'll be able to get through the valley now," he said quietly. "The hole the boss created when it spawned leads to a tunnel through the glacier. There's some tough mobs in there, but even with a half-strength raid group they won't be a threat."
"Um, exactly how do you know all that?" asked one of the Gnomes who'd survived the main tank group massacre.
It was a question that by this point Kirito was sick of answering or evading. Klein saved him the trouble. "This guy was a beta tester," said the Salamander. "He taught me a bunch of stuff on the first day that saved my life when everything went tits-up in Gattan."
Kirito was about to curse Klein for his big mouth when the Gnome who'd asked the question spoke. "That so?" There was a moment or two of silence, and then the tank went on. "Well, we were damned lucky to have you here. Thanks."
For once, Kirito was grateful for the freezing temperatures of the north. They turned his tears into ice crystals on his cheeks, and the wind swept them away before anyone could see.
·:·:·:·:·:·
Asuna wasn't sure why Diabel had summoned both her and Yuuki to his office. They hadn't had any further conflicts with prejudiced players in their faction, they hadn't broken any rules… as far as she knew, they hadn't done anything at all to put themselves on his radar. If anything, they'd been model citizens—she and Yuuki had fought off a Salamander/Imp raiding party, and had been devoting all their time to leveling up.
Usually when he wanted to talk to them about their studies or progress he'd simply come to the inn and sit down with them for a meal. It made her think of the last time she'd been called to his office like this—the time when she'd fought with another Undine player named Gaitner in order to defend that Spriggan boy, an encounter which had ended with her storming out of Diabel's office in anger.
If he had in mind another lecture like that for her, he was going to get a piece of her mind.
She and Yuuki touched down in the courtyard of the castle and trotted to a stop, careful not to slip on the wet flagstone. It had been pouring rain for the last few days, and while that didn't seem to be unusual weather here on the eastern coast of Alfheim, it still left all of the bare stone surfaces in the city slippery. It amused her on some level—for a race that supposedly had an innate affinity for water, she would've expected better civic design.
Maybe they just expected everyone to fly everywhere. It wasn't the worst theory. But flying in the rain could get unpleasant, and she was just as happy to get back on solid ground and get out of the inclement weather once she passed through the enormous gates and into the castle interior. She was cold and wet, but the inside of the castle was lit with countless braziers that heated the air and kept it at a comfortable temperature. As she passed by them on the way to Diabel's office, she wondered whether they ever went out. Was there an NPC whose entire raison d'etre was to make the rounds in the castle and keep them fueled? She'd never seen one if there was.
A prod in her side yanked her attention back to her surroundings. Yuuki smiled up at her. "Where were you?"
"Just thinking," Asuna answered unhelpfully, which drew another almost-ticklish prod from the girl. "Nothing important, just thinking about how strange this world is… how with some things it seems like they went above and beyond to make it so realistic, but so artificial in other ways at the same time."
Yuuki hummed thoughtfully as if she understood. Perhaps she did; she seemed to be a smart girl. "I think I get what you're saying," she said, holding out her arm. "Like my skin. It feels right when I touch stuff, and it looks like skin if you don't look too closely. But it's like there's something missing."
"Hair," Asuna said immediately. She'd noticed the same flaw in the simulation. "The little tiny hairs on everyone's arms; we don't have them there. Or anywhere else. And if you look really closely, you can tell that the texture is… wrong. Like all the little wrinkles and pores and stuff… they're there, but it's like they're drawn on you."
"That's it exactly," Yuuki said, favoring Asuna with another bright smile that just made her melt. "You're so smart, Asuna."
Asuna laughed. "Not that smart. It's just… kind of hard not to notice the little things sometimes."
They had to cut off that train of thought there, as they found themselves in front of the entrance to Diabel's office. His voice called them in as soon as they knocked, and Asuna was relieved to see that he seemed to be in a good mood—he was smiling, and he gestured them both towards a pair of plush chairs in front of his desk.
"Asuna, Yuuki," he said in greeting. "How are you holding up?"
"It's not really a question of 'holding up' anymore, Diabel," said Asuna, feeling a twinge of defensiveness rise in her again. Somehow he seemed to be really good at bringing that out in her. "We've been going out every day and… what's the word? Grinding. Earning lots of EXP." She lifted her chin proudly. "We're almost level 11 now."
Diabel nodded, his smile broadening a bit. "I know," he said. "I can see the levels of all my faction members in the leadership interface. That's actually why I called you here today."
A look of plain surprise took over Asuna's face. "It is?" she asked. "I… well, what do you want from us?"
Before answering, Diabel sat back in his chair, fingers laced in front of him as he regarded them both. "You might have heard the rumors by now. An alliance of Gnomes, Leprechauns and Puca—I guess they're calling themselves the Northern Crafting Combine now—broke through the boss in the Valley of Giants a week ago, albeit with heavy losses. The Cait Sith weren't far behind in clearing the Valley of Butterflies. For reasons I don't quite understand, the Salamanders haven't made a move on the Valley of Dragons yet; they're easily strong enough."
Diabel paused, and looked Asuna meaningfully in the eyes. "We're going to make our play for the Valley of Rainbows in a few days—on November 30th, to be exact. I want the two of you to be there for it."
Asuna sucked in a breath sharply, and heard Yuuki do the same beside her. This was the very last thing she'd expected to hear. "I… well… do you think we're ready for that? I mean, do you really think we're strong enough?"
Diabel almost looked amused. "You don't know, do you?" Since Asuna didn't even know what it was that she didn't know, she shook her head. "You and Yuuki are among the top twenty players in the faction, level-wise. You've been out there every single day, working harder than anyone except the clearers. And if you don't count the actual clearing groups, you're both easily in the top three. You're not only ready for it... we need you."
Asuna was too shocked to speak; she felt Yuuki's hand grab hers. When neither of them said anything, Diabel went on. "Do you want to be clearers?"
"Yes!" they both said at once, looking at each other.
Diabel came to his feet then and clapped his hands once. "Then it's settled. Report to Jahala first thing tomorrow morning. You're going to be part of a raid… do you know what that is?"
Asuna had heard the term before. "A lot of players working together?"
"That's more or less it," Diabel said with a nod. "Think of it like a platoon of soldiers. Players divide up into groups of six, each with a group leader; they in turn are all under the command of a single raid leader. Groups have roles in the raid, and they're expected to know those roles and stick to the plan in order to keep everyone alive and ensure the raid's success."
It sounded overwhelmingly complicated. Asuna was glad that she wasn't the one in charge of planning and leading this raid; she wasn't any kind of strategist or leader. "Okay," she said. "Anything else we need to know?"
Diabel laughed. "Plenty. But don't worry, that's why I'm putting you directly under Jahala. He'll work closely with you over the next few days and make sure you know your role and what you need to do to fulfill it. We need time to assemble all of the teams anyway; we're short on clearers for this raid so we're going to be hiring some Spriggan mercenaries to fill in the gaps."
The mention of Spriggan mercenaries immediately brought to mind that one boy, Kirito. Would he be among them? She wasn't sure what she thought of that—he was a pain in the ass and a loner; she doubted he could be counted on to follow instructions. It was just as well that he'd gone north and hadn't come back.
"Asuna?"
The soft voice drew her out of her thoughts again, and Asuna felt a squeeze on her hand. She smiled and squeezed back. "It's nothing. But hey, did you hear that? This is our big chance, you and I."
Yuuki grinned at her and practically bounced in her chair. "We're gonna be clearers! We're gonna fly into the Valley of Rainbows and kick some butt! And get lots of cool stuff!"
The girl's good cheer was infectious. Diabel smiled at her and then turned to Asuna. "Very well then, that's all. Why don't the two of you take the rest of the day off and rest? You're going to be quite busy enough starting tomorrow, and you'll need every bit of your strength for the upcoming raid."
Asuna knew good advice when she heard it. She and Yuuki both came to their feet, bowed as one, and took their leave.
The two of them could hardly contain themselves on their way back to the inn. It felt like all of their hard work, all of those long, exhausting hours of grinding, had paid off. It was such a little thing, really… just a name. Clearers. It wasn't as if it gave them any gameplay advantage, or any special privileges. It wasn't even an official title of any kind. It just meant that they had a job to do, and it was really the same job that they were already doing for their daily routine. The only thing that was different was the name, and the fact that they'd be training to participate in this raid thing with a bunch of other players like them.
The prospect was exciting… and a bit scary, if she was honest with herself. As she looked down at the little girl beside her, Asuna felt a sudden pang of worry. What had she gotten Yuuki into? She was a twelve year old girl, and here Asuna was prepared to take her into a massive battle with a powerful boss where they both stood a very good chance of dying. The thought made her feel incredibly ashamed, as if she'd somehow taken advantage of the girl's enthusiasm and gotten her in over her head.
Then Yuuki caught her staring, and grinned up at her. With one blindingly swift motion she whipped the weapon from the scabbard on her back and executed a sword skill at the open air, dealing a crushing defeat to the cobblestone pathway in front of them and causing an «Immortal Object» message to briefly flare up at the point of impact. Yuuki bounced back, flourished the sword and smoothly sheathed it again, grinning fiercely up at Asuna and bowing as if to an audience.
Asuna couldn't help but laugh as she grabbed Yuuki by the shoulders and hugged her. She was a little girl, yes. Asuna herself wasn't more than a few years older. And the thought of bringing her into the kind of danger they faced filled her with a protective urge that surprised her with its ferocity. But at some point in the past several weeks, at some point during all of their practice and studies and the daily grind of combat, this little girl had become something more than that, too.
She'd become a warrior.
Author's Note: Somehow or another, I managed to get struck with one of those surges of inspiration and this chapter simply... came together. In the space of a single day. I don't want to set unrealistic expectations, so I seriously considered saving the publication of this chapter until next weekend, to space things out and give me a bit of a buffer. But after reading through it... honestly, could you have sat on this? This is a key point in the story. It's where everything starts to come together. I figured you'd want it sooner rather than later, and if there is to be a wait for the next chapter, I could think of far worse notes on which to leave off.
Enjoy, and please leave a review to let me know what you think!
