Chapter posted: 20th September 2020

First of all, I should mention that for whatever reason FF dot net no longer sends alerts to my email when a PM shows up. This seems to be an ongoing issue not unique to me. So if I am late to a reply, or if you think I didn't send me a message, please drop an anonymous review giving me a head's up. I'll delete the anonymous review later.

And if you're reading this, chances are you don't realise you have PMs in your inbox too.

Chapter 18: Jungle Stalker

Dearest sister, may this letter find you in good health and good fortune.

My trip to the port city of Perisai has been nothing but a terrible ordeal. It is a long tale and I ask you to forgive my lack of quality paper for it is what I had on hand. I lost my stationary when the city was attacked.

It is a tale you will not believe me had you no doubt seen the smoke from the horizon and the refugees that have surely come to the capital. I should start from the beginning:

I had an appointment with the Laksamana's secretary in the evening and tried to persuade him to buy our fine silks. It may not be as fancy as your trip to the royal palace but it is still of great import.

I waited for an hour outside his office, only to have our conversation last a mere five minutes! I offered him good prices for our silks, told him that it would work well with the latest trend of wearing with mail. But that's not what he asked for, nay! He asked for flax and hemp for his sails! He said he'd buy them in bulk as well, he'd nary a glance at our finest patterns.

Of course I told him that our family business only deals in the highest quality textiles and said if wanted hemp, perhaps he should ask elsewhere. For that he shooed me away, like a common street peddler! I left in quite a foul mood, as you can imagine.

I considered then perhaps selling them to someone else. I realise this is not what you wanted, but I assure you, a man like the Laksamana is clearly a man of low culture. He is after all of low birth, as you may have heard. You can see it in the way he rules his land; Perisai is a dour and serious place with stone walls everywhere and a guard every twenty feet, where every villager is a militiaman and carries a weapon on them. Even the children carry slings.

So I went to the docks, after a few hours of drinking, not much I assure you, I only carried a few bottles and Perisai forbids any alcohol within its walls (another sure sign of low culture). It was during sunset, while I was haggling with some Thronelanders, that we were attacked.

Warships appeared out of thin air, right on the horizon. They launched flaming boulders with their trebuchets and it fell upon us like meteorites. They destroyed warehouses, ruptured streets, and killed hundreds. The impressive towers surrounding the docks could not even counter attack. Expensive and unused ballistae fell into their water alongside their operators. I stood there agape and would have died were it not for my bodyguards doing their jobs.

We retreated to the Laksamana's keep, a fearsome fortress on a hill, guided by the militia. The militia were exceptional, guiding us calmly and quickly. We were given quarters behind the castle wall, and it seemed almost every villager and traveller was there as well. There were tents up and ready, as were enough food for all. Armed guards patrolled the battlements and temple healers tended the wounded. It was as if the attack was expected.

It has been but a few hours since the attack, but already strage rumours were afoot. One guard came by an hour ago, asking for maces and hammers. I could not gain much news, the guards were tightlipped, and the wounded were not keen to answer my questions. The Laksamana's second was in command, the Laksamana himself was missing. Perhaps he is as cowardly as his low birth suggests.

I write to you now in my tent, sharing it with some dirty vagabonds. I've no knowledge what happened to our merchandise, but I fear that it will be gone. It is still night, and I fear it would be a long one.

Sincerely, you dearest brother.

2052-9-2:

It is early September and the weather is damnable.

8th Company finds itself outside the walls of Agra Nagara on Level 12. It has been a few days since our timely rescue of the rest of the Level 11 Clearers. What little casualties we suffered has been only minor wounds and bruises. No guts, no glory as it goes, and we have found ourselves with plenty of both. Not only will we be sent a portion of the loot the Clearers got from the level 11 boss dungeon, we also have new horses and a new officer.

Lieutanent Namrek seems like a good fellow. He had not been a Specialist, but was a student of one of the cavalry consultants back at Argus. He is about Mason's age, and certainly knows his way around horses. Perhaps we shall have a drink over our character builds. It's all players discuss these days. The little party from before was fun but people are already bored. If players aren't literally playing the game by quieting, they'll eventually do something stupid.

Boredom means gambling and alcohol, gambling and alcohol means tempers, tempers mean trouble. Drilling will keep that to a minimum. Some of the privates have already found some basic jobs to do. Simple things: guarding warehouses and stores, deputised militia, and the like. There's one type of quest 8th Company forbids and that's any quest that involves crime.

I suspect some of Kenshi's boys are doing it on the side but I've yet to be able to find evidence. As long as they don't get caught, it should be fine.

There's a quest fending off hostile crocodiles nearby. I'll be leading the two-handers of the Company there, get some experience, maybe make sure their sword lessons stick.

2052-9-4:

We spent time in the Colosseum. Correction, the arena. There wasn't much of feeding Chritians to lions.

It was by all accounts a medieval tourney with less safety rules. The sheer murder the contestants inflicted to each other was excessive. It would certainly have been murder had it not been the safety net. It was akin to the tourneys beta testers did, when we routinely killed each other, back when death was an annoyance, not a threat.

I have a little death counter on my character sheet under general stats. It's 15. Let's hope it never becomes 16.

Farras and Malik scouted the shooting tournament. I, Ridwan, Namrek and the Cousin Sergeants the melee. There was a duel with two swordsmen, both were very good. A close call, and both would likely made a fine addition to the company, assuming they weren't under another guild. I saw one of the Defenders Immaculate, the spiky haired fellow whose name I forget. There was a madman from the Sons of Mars fighting with scutum and gladius, at one point taking on five fighters at once. That one lad who Ridwan and Namyek tried to recruit, the one with the double sticks.

I even saw Kirito and Asuna! It's been a while since I saw either of them. They were fighting with a comrade with the typical shield build. All three were excellent fighters, but there was something off about that Asuna.

She fought recklessly, like a woman possessed. More like a dog than a proper soldier like she had been before. She acted almost like the madman from the Sons, except he knew exactly what he was doing, coordinated with his team. Asuna did no such thing, and it was only near the end of the fight she regained some sense.

I would never condone such a behaviour, but at the end of the fight, her team won. Perhaps it was part of the plan after all.

It's a shame that neither Kirito nor Asuna won in the final round. They fought quite competently, but their opponents were simply better. I would write more of my opinion on the fight, but that is perhaps better saved for my journal instead of my log.

Our recruiting afterwards was of little use. It's only expected that the winners would also have gotten other offers from other guilds. Most were also too busy celebrating. Ridwan's business cards were sadly of no use.

2052-9-5

Namrek had devised a training schedule for the company and has been drilling them the past week. My own experience with horses is minimal, and the idea of supplementing by two-hander build with speed was appealing. Time working for Argus was highly specialised with dozens of other employees working in our own little ecosystem, and the cavalry team had a lot of things to code and balance. Their budget alone was higher than both foot and ranged teams combined, or so I was told by other Specialists.

We took half of the Company to train on an open field a cat's jump away for the morning, the other half for the evening. I had the morning slot. Namrek tutted at the quality of the horses.

"Only 1/10th of the horses of the company can be fielded as proper warhorses, 2/3rds could be used scouting, the rest are fine to travel with," he told me. Scarlett also told me that horse fodder was expensive and we needed to increase our earnings to match.

We were trained in the most basics. How to approach the horse, to care, to trot, to steer. Some of the soldiers think it was boring, and were reminded that before being able to gallop they must first learn how to not fall off the horse.

A good player should always extra perk points in their pocket for emergencies, so I did. That's one benefit that pure ranged/melee builds had over hybrids - you had just a bit more perk points to spend than usual.

The rest of the afternoon and evening was spent drilling. Of the fifty eight players under 8th Company, a third were archers/crossbows, the rest infantry. Of the infantry, the majority were spearman builds. I've only a few proper two-handers under my command, the best being Private Suzi (Shizuka). She handles the greatsword with raw talent, even discounting her perks.

Kensei was there of course with his own posse of privates, exalting the might of the axe. I've told him numerous times that the axe is a wonderful weapon, but everytime I do it he tells me that no, the axe is king, better than the sword or the spear or the bow or anything else really. His squad seems to parrot this idea to everyone else, and even the spearmen under the Cousins-Sergeants were carrying axes as sidearms.

I think he's doing it because he finds it funny and he has been doing it ever since we were together in the company. I don't personally mind, the key is not taking his bait. I think he just got bored annoying Lt. Farras.

I see him right now, annoying Namyek. Better to give the poor man a heads up.

There seems to be a party at the palace tonight. Captains only. Ah well, who wants to party with snooty nobles anyway.

2052-9-7

I am writing this while sitting in a makeshift infirmary. Many things happened.

We were woken up in the middle of night and ordered to march in darkness. We left the camp behind, most of our supplies, medicine, tools and all. Compared to the other companies, we did good, as our fully mounted company allowed us to go faster than the rest. Only 1st Company's mounted infantry and Leeroy's pikemen were able to catch up, outpacing 6th and 7th Company and the other guilds, major and minor. It seemed as if the entire playerbase was mobilised.

A port city called Perisai on the 13th Floor was being sieged. The city portal was activated, just like that. There was no floor boss at all. It seemed the royal palace was also attacked. The details elude me at the moment, and I will strive to find the whole story when the time is available.

We arrived to a city in flames. The fires bathed the night in a hellish red, it was like we were at the gates of Hell. It reminded me of the fires so endemic in the twenties.

The surrounding villages were burned to the ground. Warehouses, inns, homes, just gone. But the lord of Perisai was well prepared and most of the villagers were saved. The casualties were limited to his own military force.

We were led by the Princess of Nadyah (formerly of Granum) and her lance of knights. Their steeds were impressively fast, more akin to an automobile than any animal.

Yes despite the good roads, despite our mounted forces, the enemy eluded us. They had gone away in their ships, like the vikings of old. Now we are ordered by the Kraton to hunt the entire floor for them. Forests are bad enough to fight in, now they're asking us to fight in the jungle.

Colonel Hwang Shen of 7th Company requested archers from 8th Company, any and all available troops in light armour and scouting experience. Their focus on heavy armour has left them unsuited for the job and he was ashamed to admit it.

Mason has put Lt. Farras and Sgt. Malik on it. The rest of 8th Company stays behind to assist the militia with putting out fires and looking to rescue civilians alongside 1st, 2nd and 6th. The medics have a lot on their hands.

I've only had a couple hours of sleep, Mason seemed to not have had any at all. I'll have to convince him to sleep. Thinker has set up shifts and called in the reserves. I think we'll need all the help we can get.

DESTRUCTION OF PORT CITY BY PIRATES - Argo Weekly Issue 37

The citizens of the 13th Surface woke up to a rude awakening as fires blaze the port city of Perisai. Nearby lords rush to the safety of the city as well as a regiment of the royal forces led by Princess Eleanora. Among them was the Aincrad Liberation Force, the Sons of Mars, Townsend Security, and multiple other guilds.

Reports of pirates attacking villages and towns all over Nadyah have been increasing. Refugees tell of pirates enslaving villagers and leaving after burning down settlements. No one knows their true intentions or where they came from.

King Aedan the 7th has pledged humanitarian and military aid towards Nadyah. Lances of knights are being raised in the capital city of Vigilance. Charity drives in the holy city of Heilig on the 6th Floor are accepting donations and taking on mercenaries for caravan security. The royal court of Nadyah are asking for sellswords that have experience in scouting, tracking and hunting.

Incidentally, wildlife have become more brazen in attacking settlements. Our sources say that wolves, boars, and other wildlife are attacking travelers. Villagers are advised to repair their fences and those who travel are advised to do so in numbers.

He was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a sea of trees and an army of insects. The moon hung lazily in the sky.

He could hear a dozen rumblings in any direction, the rustling of leaves and the crunching of branches, the hooting of birds and the buzz of bugs. The jungle was loud and he could barely hear himself think.

"Over here," said Kirito, pointing to a bush nearby. "They headed this way."

Spiegel looked at said bush and cannot discern what exactly made it so different from the hundred other bushes around them. At least he had respec his points into PER and could see as well in the dark as Kirito did. «Night Eye» was the few perks from his old build he kept.

Kirito had reached level 20 recently. Spiegel appeared on Kirito's HUD as level 18 but had yet to commit to a particular build, and he was by all accounts, level 10. It wasn't the time to commit, not yet.

"Oh wait, sorry, you must not have been able to see." He reached for the lantern on his belt and opened the lid. "Broken branches, prints, something was dragged. Can you see now?"

"Sure can," he answered. That was the truth. He could see the bush, but he wasn't sure what the difference was until he was told. Maybe he should pump points into «Survival» related stuff.

Kirito closed the lid of the lantern and replaced it on his belt. Neither of them were wearing their mail nor helmets, only padded vests. Nowhere near as protective, but it allowed them to move through the brush with much more ease than their full gear.

The two players hacked their way with parangs, ducking under branches, straining their ears.

His swings were fast, faster than he had ever been. He had put his points that made him as comparable to Asuna's swordplay but not her AGI. Yet for all his speed, he felt off, sloppy, because he had yet to invest any into SAO's numerous weapon skills. He hoped that no one caught on.

They walked in silence for a better part of ten minutes before Spiegel broke it: "You think the villagers are alive?"

"Let's hope so."

"Yeah, but what do you think?"

"I think we should get this over with and get back into our sleeping bags."

It had been just a few days after the attack on Perisai. The port city was in ruins. Whatever force came to destroy it did its job well in wrecking the infrastructure. Thankfully, the rebuilding process was already underway.

Almost instantly, there were dozens of quests dotted around Perisai's surrounding area. Quests for medical supplies, rebuilding homes, food management, search and rescue, even cooking related content. It felt almost out of place with the usual routine of 'go to X, kill Y, return with Z' Spiegel was so used to.

No dungeons to dive, no enemies to fight, it was taking care of what was essentially a refugee crisis.

He still recalled walking through the burnt homes of the city. There were children crying in the streets, families huddled about asking for food, and hollow men with hollow eyes as they lost everything. It was more disturbing than any monster he fought.

"Steel yourself, Spiegel," Heathcliff had told him. "They are NPCs first and foremost. Take care of yourself first."

"A little cold hearted, don't you think?" Asuna retorted. Her white horse stood out even amongst the crowd of players.

"Just being realistic," he said. Despite this, he threw a loaf of bread to a passing child. Everyone approved.

One of the NPC serjeants, a Kraton official, was asking for volunteers to rescue villagers and hunt down pirates. They retreated into the thick jungle that surrounded the level. No one seemed to have a description of what they looked like. There were an estimated thousand villagers missing.

So here they were, in the middle of the night, stumbling and tripping through the dark. The pay however, was very good.

Spiegel heard the tell tale song of a bird. "Thats Heathcliff-san," he said to Kirito.

Both trekked and followed the source of the sound. Heatchliff and Haakon were far enough that their icons did not register in Spiegel or Kirito's HUDs, a common occurrence in these types of missions. It was their second night of scouting, and still, they found nothing. He was tired of it.

They found the other two men in a clearing. Heathcliff had a torch lit over his head and Haakon was crouching by his feet. Like Spiegel and Kirito, the two men abandoned their mail and opted for jacks. "What's up?" Spiegel asked.

Haakon brought up something in his hand. "See this?"

"Bone," Spiegel said. He recognised them easily; he and Sinon had hunter enough wildlife to challenge the experience of even the most experienced of hunters.

"It's human," Heathcliff said. "Look here in the dirt."

In the mound, someone had done a hasty job of burying something, it was shallow. They all knew what it was.

"The whole surrounding area has blood," said Haakon. Everyone turned around, and sure enough there was. A huge circle surrounding the clearing.

And they were right in the middle of it.

A cold gust of wind blew, cooling Spiegel's sweaty back. It was the only form of comfort he would feel for the rest of the night.

Something grabbed onto Spiegel's ankle. He looked down to see a hand, and a rotting eye with maggots looking up back at him.

Haakon's axe chopped bone and larvae. Kirito dropped the lantern at his feet and Heathcliff pulled out another toch, lit it with the one he had in hand, and dropped both. Following their lead, Spiegel lit his own torch and did the same.

The area was bright. There were figures all around the edge of the clearing. They had walked right into a trap.

The four players huddled together, forming a ring facing outward, weapons ready.

Kirito swapped his parang for his longsword, Spiegel had his spear, neither had shields. "They're coming!" Kirito yelled.

Spiegel planted his feet firmly and took a combat stance. Three figures emerged from the darkness and he could smell them before he could see them. He thrusted into the dark and struck something. He pulled back his spear, as a corpse fell before him.

"Hah, zombies!" laughed Haakon, twirling his axe. "You'd think Level 13 would throw something tougher."

"Let's not jinx us, Haakon," Heathcliff warned. Like Haakon, he had his shield strapped with a sword in hand. Two zombies stumbled out of the darkness, Heathcliff swung twice, decapitating one and disarming the other. "Maybe the game will throw us some new tricks."

"Heh, I'd like to see them try!"

As if given an order, the figures ran into the clearing at once. The living dead were on them.

Spiegel fell into a familiar drill, the same kind echoed by almost every guild in SAO. He stuck his spear out, and thrusted at the nearest zombie that came at him. He stabbed its chest, spearing its guts open, intestines falling onto the dirt. It tripped and another, the corpse of a burly man, walked over it. He thrusted at it too, taking him in the shoulder. The burly zombie stumbled back, only for another, a scrawny woman, to come after. Kirito stepped forward and delivered an upward strike, shearing its face in half.

Spearwalls operated on the assumption that the enemy can be kept out of reach. There was nothing more effective and safe than a spearwall against a wave of zombies. Yet none of his comrades had his reach, their weapons far shorter. But their skill in arms overcame that. Spiegel had Kirito on his left, Heathcliff on his right and Haakon at his back.

For every zombie that overcame Spiegel's reach they were quickly cut down by swords. Spiegel had little knowledge in Haakon's fighting ability but every meaty thunk of his axe fall was accompanied by a laugh and an insult, and for that it was enough for Spiegel to think that the Jarl had his back.

Thrust, pull, thrust, pull. He would have some sort of joke about the nature of the spear but he was far too focussed on the fighting in front of him and was sick of how spearmen thrust. It was funny the first dozen times. It became stale after the fortieth.

His battle trance finally subsided as the fighting was over, no longer were there the moans of the dead or the sound of steel piercing flesh, he could hear his own thoughts.

He looked at the time. They had been fighting for seven minutes. He hadn't taken a single scratch.

"I see something!" Kirito yelled. "Someone's running!"

Spiegel saw it: the tail end of a cloak, running in the opposite direction. With his newfound increase in «Agility», he sprinted after, spear in hand.

A shout from Heathcliff stopped him. Another hand emerged from the shallow grave, piercing his shin with a knife. Had he worn his greaves this would have been a non-issue, but they traded protection for speed, quiet and comfort.

More corpses to emerge from the mass grave, far enough apart to appear the grave was smaller than they first assumed. A delayed resurrection - Spiegel had never seen such a tactic before.

"Go, boy!" yelled Haakon, stomping the offending knife arm with a crunch. "Catch that stranger!"

Spiegel followed suit.

He ran through brush, sprinted over thick foliage. He started off with a sprint, almost stumbling as his foot caught a thick root. He slowed down to a run, only to smack his forehead into a branch. His spear caught in the bramble too many times to count. He held his spear perpendicular on his shoulder, and when he turned a corner over a particularly large tree, he fell as the seven foot long spear caught in something.

With a curse, Spiegel summoned his character sheet, the page still there from the last time he left it.

«Pathfinder I»

Description: On any natural surface (grass, dirt, plains), increase movement speed by 5%.

Requirements: 15 AGI

«Pathfinder II: Forest Prancer»

Description: In forest environments, increase movement speed by 5%. Stacks with Pathfinder I.

Requirements: 20 AGI, Pathfinder I

«Pathfinder III: Jungle Stalker»

Description: In jungle environments, increase movement speed by 5%. Brush and branches incur 50% less penalty than before, shallow mud incurs no penalty whatsoever. Whipping branches does 70% less damage.

Requirements: 30 AGI, Survival 60, Pathfinder I/II

This would cost three perk points. He had twenty perk points and twelve attribute points to spend.

There were many arguments about whether someone should choose skills and perks on the spot, or it should be planned by day one, but there was no time again. He made his decision and the game provided a little jingle for his choice.

He grabbed his spear again and returned to the chase. He saw the tall tale sign of broken branches and could hear the crunch of leaves under foot falls.

Already he could feel the difference. His step was lighter, his thighs didn't burn as much as before. He saw a splotch of mud and before he could stop, stepped right into it. He expected his foot to sink into it, and for him to fall and displaced his boot (which happened far too many times he cared to admit), but all he felt was a light splash as he stepped into. Already, «Jungle Stalker» was paying its worth.

The stranger was still running, and his figure was visible in the dark. His black cloak gave him a fine silhouette, made even more visible with how it whipped around him. Never wear black at night, that's what every night hunter was told.

Actually, it was Sinon who told him that. Where was she? He missed her already, and had she been here, the stranger would have already taken a bolt in the back.

The cloaked figure stopped and bent down,hands on knees. Spiegel crouched down and observed. The stranger looked around and slowed his pace to a walk. Spiegel stalked him.

The stranger went to a side of a hill, into a cave. The moon was bright enough to shine a spotlight on the entrance. This was their lair.

Spiegel reached the mouth of the cave and stopped. Should he wait for backup? God knows what monsters were in there, and they could be tougher than basic zombies. Yes, he could light some torches, and wait for Heathcliff and the rest to come.

A shriek came from the cave - a woman's, followed by dreadful chanting in some ancient foreign tongue. His breath shortened, cold beads of sweat dropped from his forehead, unrelated to the exertion of running through the jungle.

He could wait. Corpses were acceptable too. Why risk his life being a hero when he could wait for backup and do it safely.

Another cry came from the cave, worse than the last.

"Fuck fuck." He lit his torches, tied a couple to the branches of the trees. He took a deep breath as he readied his spear and plunged into the cave.

He had been walking in silence for what seemed to be forever. His only companions were his footfalls and the burning torch.

The cave was long and winding with numerous dead ends. Shadows jumped at him and he had struck at nothing twice.

He turned a corner and almost shouted. The entire cavern was filled with bodies stacked atop each other like merchandise in a store. There had to be fifty of them. Some of them were in coffins, some were wrapped in linen, all of them couldn't be dead longer than a day, unless magic was involved.

He left quickly hoping they didn't come back to life.

This was the worst part of any dungeon dive. The wait, the silence before the wrath of the dungeon was unleashed upon the intruder.

There was a term for it: Dungeon Dread. He didn't recall where he heard it from, but it was an apt name. Battles were bad, but waiting for it to happen was much worse.

His throat was parched and as he reached for his waterskin he realised he had left it at camp. He didn't think he can't even remember where the camp was. There was the foreboding sense that he was lost forever in the jungle but he pushed it back, buried it deep. This was no different from any other hunting quest with Sinon.

She always had gone on these trips, usually when Vanator was concerned. A loot drop, that's where she got it from minus all the details. She wasn't telling the whole story. As a friend, he respected her privacy. They were a team, how could she abandon him like this?

He had left a dozen PMs for her and she replied to none.

Spiegel stopped in his tracks, slapped himself. This was no time for toxic doubt to seep in. He can't let his depression get the better of him, not in the Death Game. Besides, his new friends had his back. He wasn't going to let his attitude lose them.

With that he focussed on his dive, a light spring in his steps. He still had no armour on him and it allowed him to move without the constant chinking sound of mail. All he had to do was follow the chanting.

He came across an even larger cavern - a proper room with supports and smoothed stone walls. There were two other doors in the room. There was furniture about, tables and chairs and candles on tall silver wicks. There were scrolls in a bookcase and numerous crates in the corner. In the middle of the room, a corpse of a man on a stone slab, surrounded by even more candles. He was armoured in the coat of plates of a man-at-arms. The room smelled of incense.

Spiegel carefully approached it, only to knock over a stool. The noise reverberated throughout the cave. He heard footsteps approaching. What now, stand and fight? Hide?

There, the crates! He extinguished his torch and put it in his Inventory alongside his spear. Spiegel squeezed through a wedge in the crates, hugging his back to the wall. He only had his dagger and machete on his belt. He could peer through opening unnoticed.

Two robed figures entered from one of the doors. They were arguing.

"- better not have led anyone to us."

"Worry not, master. I am sure I lost the trail. These Outsiders do not know these jungles as well as we do," said the other, young compared to the other. They had hoods on, Spiegel looked directly at them, but all he could see was darkness.

"They better not. The destruction of Perisai was only a half success. But the sahir will not see it that way, he will see it as a failure. We do not have enough cadavers."

"But we have so much!"

"You speak out of turn, apprentice. We require even more! I shan't lose to the others. We must gain more favour, we must bring more cadavers than the other circles. If our rival brings ten, we must bring twenty!"

"A thousand apologies, master. But how much more? The transportation of the product, we require more slaves, more sailors."

"We will have them, allow me to worry about that. The captain ..." The master cocked his head. "I sense intruders."

Spiegel swallowed spit. Did they know?

"You have not set the required spells for our alarm system, have you apprentice?"

"Nay, master! A thousand apologies! I was in a hurry. One of the sellswords, he pursued me. But when I entered the cave, I did not sense him anymore. How -"

"That is because you are weak, apprentice. Hear that, the beating of heart?" Spiegel was suddenly aware how fast his was.

"The intruder is close by … The recent corpses, can you raise them?"

The apprentice brought up a hand in a claw, unwillingly. A haze of sorts appeared in hand and the veins of the necromancer's arm glowed so slightly.

"There, I have activated half of the corpses. They should slow down any intruders. But if we use them here now ..."

"Then we must acquire more! I refuse to meet my end at the tip of a mercenary's blade. I will raise the rest, and herd them to the barge …"

At the end of hallways he could hear the sounds of battle. Spiegel could almost shout for joy.

The master waved his hand in a circle. From the nearby door, more undead came. Unlike the corpses from before, they seemed to be militia, still in their tattered armour, helmets and wielding weapons. "We are exposed! We must flee, quickly, and bring as much as we can!"

"What of the dead man-at-arms?"

"The admiral promises good coin for proper warriors. We will resurrect him now."

The sound of fighting became louder. The corpses from before arrived in the cavern, limping into the door where the militia came from. The undead militia marched in the opposite direction to meet the intruders, as dutifully as they would in life. If only he could send a message to his team.

There were only three of them in the room. Both of them began chanting. Now was his chance. The apprentice had his back to him.

Spiegel exploded from his hiding spot, plunging his machete into the back of the sorcerer. The robed man shrieked at the top of his lungs. With a kick, he freed his weapon, toppling the apprentice over the man-at-arm's corpse. Blood pooled onto the table and the earth.

He pointed his sword at the necromancer. "You! You're coming with me! The Laksamana will pay a good bonus for you!"

The necromancer, whose face still covered in the dark of his hood pointed a gnarly finger at him. "Fool Outsider! You approach powers you do not comprehend! I will make you my puppet as I had over these peasants!"

Spiegel stepped forward and swiped his blade, lopping off the necromancer's hand. The magic user cursed in pain, stumbling back against the wall.

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way …"

Harsh and alien language came out of the necromancer's mouth, a sound that would be impossible to make with the human tongue. The candle fire turned blue.

The cadaver on the table started to convulse, as if having a stroke. It arched and bent its limbs in unnatural ways. The blood from the dead apprentice became sentient twisting and growing like a plant at high speed.

The trail of blood, now floating in the air entered into the mouth of the man-at-arms. It sat up with a machine-like precision, blue eyes flaming in its sockets.

It lunged at him, mouth gaping. Both toppled over and in the corner of Spiegel's vision he saw the necromancer running away.

Its rotting breath made him vomit in his mouth. He rolled the undead under him, freeing himself from its grasp. It took three chops to cleave it. The fire in its eyes died.

"Come back here!" he yelled hoarsely and chased after.

Spiegel entered a massive cavern. The ground met water as it gave way to a wide river. At the jetty was a long barge filled to the brim with stacked corpses, the necromancer was talking to someone.

The necromancer turned back, still clutching his stump. He leapt onto the boat where an undead held a long oar. At his order, the undead rowed away.

That left him alone with the tall man and indeed, he was a man and not a shambling corpse. He wore a steel breastplate over simple clothes. On closer inspection the clothes were made with silk and he had a gold embroidered sarong. He had gold everywhere on him - bracelets, necklace, even earrings. The only thing that seemed off was the fact he was barefoot.

Spiegel was not fooled with such flamboyance for he had the stride of an experienced fighter. He had fiery red hair with a waxed moustache and a long braided beard. He gave Spiegel a toothy smile.

The man reached for a nearby table and picked up an arming sword with a gold hilt and encrusted rubies on both sides. Such weapons could easily be worth ten dungeon dives.

He took a few swings as he craned his neck. "What is your name?" he asked. The man's HP popped over his HUD alongside his level, 18, the same as Spiegel. His name was a series of question marks.

"It's Spiegel, a sellsword working for the Kraton." He wasn't sure what possessed him to be so casual.

"One sellsword to another, leave. You are young, plenty of life in you. Report back to the court official and tell him you found the bodies but make no mention of the sorcerers."

Young? The guy was the same level as he was! "Why would I do that?"

"Because I am in no mood for a fight and do not wish to ruin my clothes. I just had these tailored, you see." Was he serious?

"I see you're not convinced. Here." He threw something at Spiegel which he caught with his free hand. It was his bracelet.

"You can sell that for a pretty penny, as long as you tell the court official you saw nothing. Must be worth a few thousand rajata. Does this realm still use najata? I'm not up to date …"

He looked at the bracelet. A price tag appeared: 25,000 Col as base value. That was easily five Xols. That was more money than he ever had in his entire time stuck in SAO.

And he was being bribed just to lie? He could just take it, leave. Why risk his life now?

Yes, cheat and lie. That's what you're good at, huh? Baby bro, a cheater. Always taking the easy way out. His brother's words were said to him from a long time ago.

"Hurry up, I've got places to be," said the finely dressed stranger. He didn't say how he was going to leave, there wasn't a single boat left.

Then his friends came to mind. Sinon, Kirito, Asuna, Heathcliff. What would they think?

Spiegel threw the bracelet back at the stranger. "No thanks. I'd rather take you alive and take that jewelry by force."

The stranger sighed as he buckled his bracelet back on. "Typical youthful bravado. Fine then. Spiegel, was it?"

"That's right." He was suddenly aware he still hadn't taken out his spear.

"I am Firebeard of the Darhaka, the most dreaded pirates on Aincrad. Prepare to die."

Firebeard came at him with surprising speed; it reminded him of Asuna. Spiegel held his parang up and the sheer force behind the Firebeard's strike dug painfully into his palm. The man-at-arms pivoted his tip and Spiegel barely jerked his head back.

They exchanged blows and each swing of his machete felt sloppier than the last. The parang was too short for him, he was unfamiliar with its length and heavy end. He constantly overswung. Firebeard had no such issue and dug his tip of his blade into Spiegel's forearm.

Pain shot up. Spiegel panicked punched with his left, missing by a mile. Firebeard swung at his chest and only his padded vest saved him from having a gaping wound. The NPC slammed the butt of his sword into Spiegel's skull and the player could feel his neck caving in - even if it actually wasn't.

Spiegel could hear someone calling out his name. He just needed to last a little while longer.

Spiegel lunged at Firebeard, surprising him. They both went sprawling onto the dirt, collapsing in a mess of limbs. Spiegel was atop him, he was missing his weapon but so was Firebeard. Now they were wrestling and Spiegel knew he was barely competent at it. He summoned his knife with «Quick Equip» only for Firebeard to wrench his wrist and swatted it away

Spiegel punched him in the face. The second punch broke Firebeard's nose. The third broke bone, but not Firebeard's.

In the dim torchlight, Firebeard's face changed. His roguish face turned grey, like an infection going at high speed. His thick neck became thicker, hardier, and Spiegel's grasp on it was loosening. His brown eyes turned gray, dead, as his entire body transformed before him.

Firebead punched back, not with the force of a human punch, but that of stone. Spiegel felt his jaw dislocate as he stumbled off the man.

He looked up and saw that Firebeard's very physique had changed. His body was more rigid, his beard and hair molded like a master sculptor.

His health refilled in an instant and his level went from 17 to 27.

He had transformed into a stone statue.

The pirate kicked him like a ball, a blow cracked ribs and expelled air out of his lungs. It launched him meters away from where he was. He strode to him, footfalls heavy, shaking the earth.

"Fucking idiot," Firebeard growled, his voice an unnatural tone. A stomp.

"I was going to let you go!" A broken rib.

"But you just wouldn't take the money, huh? Got to be greedy! Assert your manliness!" A punch this time, right in his kidney. He screamed.

"Guess you'll just die here, like the Kraton dog you are!" Another strike. His HP was down to 15%.

"Spiegel! Where are you?!" It came from the hallway. He tried to shout but no words came out.

The kicking stopped. The NPC turned around and picked up his sword. "Tell others what you saw, tell the Laksamana we're coming with him."

With that, he lept into the water, sinking to the riverbed.

Heathcliff, Haakon and Kirito burst into the cavern. "Spiegel!"

Heathcliff was first to approach him. "He's dying and needs medical aid urgently."

Spiegel saw the numerous health conditions affecting him: Broken Ribs x2 (-20% Breathing), Broken Right Hand (-45 Weapon Speed), Shallow Abdominal Cut (-5% HP), Cut Artery (-15 HP per second).

"I've got my medicine. Kirito, hand me your medkit too," said Haakon, switching from warrior to healer. "Give me some space, I got some Medical skill under me. Hang on, kiddo!"

"Ugh …"

"That's right lad, say something to me, keep conscious. One of you get me a splint!"

"I shoulda …"

"Yes, go on." Haakon laid out the medkit on the ground, various tools and potions about.

"I shouldn't have hoarded my perk points," Spiegel said, before his world went dark.

In the end of days, Aincradius will return to His Castle, and assume his legion once more. The living and the dead alike shall bear arms for the Ascendant and wage war on the enemies that threaten Mankind.

Aincradius' force shall number in the millions but a man is merely a man without his panapoly. From each village, for every fifth man, they shall be armed in death as he was in life. Their corpses must be preserved in the finest condition. The most experienced warriors are preferred, followed then by the strongest, then the most obedient.

Each petty lord must build a Tomb-Barracks, enough to house a hundred generations. In bronze they shall be encased for only bronze can withstand the test of time. Their personal belongings should be entombed with them, as well as mementos of their family. So entomb as many as possible, even if it is as little as a single arrowhead.

Protective runes must be placed upon the doors for the protection of both the dead and the living and yearly rituals must be performed to stave off entropy. Whomsoever robs a tomb, their punishment is that they must spend an eternity with the dead, their keepers in this life and the next.

- An excerpt from Burial Customs and Rituals for the Aincradius' Chosen by Tomb Keeper Nazari

After years of writing, Aincrad Retold has now surpassed 300 reviews! Thank you to everyone who has supported by reviewing, favorite, and followed after all these years!

There's been a lot of encouraging words by the readers and I want to say I really appreciate it. It's made me more pumped to continue writing Retold over other personal projects. I'm not going to specifically refer to each reader but I will go over some things to note:

1. The story is slow: Yes, it is, and that's mostly on me. Technically speaking, Retold in my notes is already three books in (the Jungle/Nadyah arc is the second book and yes, the Death Game arc is the first book). Fanfiction is a hobby, but it is a hobby I've tended to drop and stop. It's only in the past year I've stuck to a proper writing routine, so while you won't be getting the old 15k words chapters of old, you are getting 5k-8k words per chapter.

The average chapter usually hovers around 3k, and I'm not keeping to my promise of doing 5k per chapter. Shorter but more frequent chapters is the way to go.

2. The lore is bogging down: This issue mostly stems that I've got most of the kingdom and its histories written like a neat Wikipedia article, and translating that to a story is difficult. I'm trying to replicate Log Horizon's fascinating mix match of mechanics, community, and lore. LH has actually been a far bigger influence on Retold than canon SAO does. Unfortunately Retold is nowhere as well written as Log Horizon is!

I do promise that they're being set up, but the thing about setting up in a novel is that a novel is a complete product, fanfiction isn't. I absolutely don't blame if you, the reader, forgot about a line of description set up way back in chapter 3 that has only recently materialised. Aincrad, the canon world, is bare and exists first and foremost as an MMO world. Kawahara tried to remedy this by writing Progressive (which just recently got announced to anime!) and in my opinion, is what he should have done in the first place.

3. Too many characters: It would take an entire rewrite to cover the things I want. Kirito can't be everywhere at the same time. I don't think it's possible to write Retold in a way that doesn't have multiple viewpoints. Even Progressive bounces between Kirito and Asuna.

Which is why they're being cut down. It won't go away entirely, but at most later chapters will juggle two or three only. I am actually quite happy with the POVs of the main cast (Kirito, Asuna, Spiegel, Sinon, Mason) and if you aren't into any of them, that's on me. Do tell which one you like to see the most, that way I can gauge who should get more focus.

4. Romances - So people have been asking me this for years, and in my defense, I've never advertised it Retold as romance (it's actually Adventure/Fantasy). SAO is popular for the romance, but I just don't care much about canon KiriSuna. Kirito is boring, Asuna exists as the Love Interest, not a character in her own right. It doesn't help that Asuna becomes a side character as the story goes to Fairy Dance, Phantom Bullet and Alicization. Sinon and Suguha also have nothing to do after their own respective arcs either. Asuna should have been the second main character, like Progressive does it from the start.

Atm, Asuna, Sinon and Argo, have their chances, and if you want to argue your case in the reviews, do so. There's plans in mind for each one, but I will take my time developing it. The romance, like the story, should come naturally.

Long AN is long, let's wrap this up. Two things:

As October is coming around the corner, I will be returning to my other fic, Fantasy Tabletop Offline, and hopefully, produce a chapter every week. If you haven't followed it, you should!

Lastly, I'm looking for a beta reader. Someone to (mostly) check typos and tidy up the prose. If you think you've got what it takes, PM me. We can work something out.

See you in October.