The uneven hum of the chattering crowds behind me grew quieter and quieter as I walked down the road leading away from the Town of Beginnings, replaced by the gentle susurration of the verdant pasture, the soft crunch of the earth, and the errant rolling of stray pebbles beneath my boots. In the distance, I could see the odd cluster of players gathering around the monsters that roamed these fields, whether they were overgrown wasps, rams, boars, or even lesser critters such as squirrels and rabbits. Upon defeating their enemy, they would cheer as the carcasses splintered into minuscule shards of rainbow-colored light, dissipating into the air.

The mobs in this area – save for the wasps, which were fiercely territorial – were mostly peaceable, strolling about the meadow, stooping down once in a while to chew on the grass or on the berries growing from the low shrubs. Some of them lingered a little too close to the main road for comfort, but they would simply stare at me as I went past, before turning away and wandering off somewhere else. I had never seen animals up close like this, even when my parents had taken me to the city zoo as a child, so to see such realistically-crafted creatures from so short a distance caused me no end of consternation, even if they had no intention of attacking me for now.

After a few moments of internal deliberation, I eventually decided that I ought to start doing whatever it was that I had come all the way out here for. Stepping off the path and venturing into the grass, I approached one of the boars patrolling the nearby space, drawing my war-hammer and gripping it tightly. Circling around it, I raised my weapon and aimed my swing squarely at the crown of its furry head.

Then, summoning every ounce of power I had in my right arm, I brought the stub of the war-hammer crashing down.

Thwack!

I had hoped to eliminate it in one blow so I might save myself – and it – the trouble, but the boar's health bar was only cut to around a third of its total amount. The boar let out a pained squeal and turned to face me, baring its gray tusks as it retreated slowly. For a split second, I thought I might be able to chase after it and finish it off.

Then, without warning, it narrowed its glowing red eyes, bent its front legs, and emitted a series of short, impatient grunts. My heart dropped as I realized it was preparing to charge.

The boar leapt forward and galloped through the grass, bearing down upon me before I could even think about mustering a riposte. It lowered its head as it came near, and I dove out of the way, barely avoiding being gutted by its tusks.

My hands splayed open as my elbows struck the earth, sending my weapon flying. As I pushed myself off the dirt and scrambled to retrieve it, I could hear my adversary rumbling as it made ready for a second go at pummeling me back onto the ground. The sound of its hooves pattering on the grass abruptly accelerated, and it soon drew close enough for me to just about feel its ragged breath prickling my neck.

Wrapping my fingers around the hilt of my war-hammer, I turned and swung with all the strength I had left.

Wham! The boar yelped, staggered, and vanished into a cloud of shiny dust. The echo of its frenzied galloping faded from my ears, and the original tranquility of my environs was duly restored.

I put a hand on my chest, inhaling and exhaling deeply to calm my racing heart. Then, I quickly checked the small notification that had appeared in the corner of my screen.

You received: 30 Cor, Boar Pelt x1.

I allowed myself a small fist-pump. It was a victory, however small, and I felt a sense of elation that allayed my unease for the time being. I could still feel the satisfying impact of my war-hammer smacking against the boar's skull reverberating in my bones – it reminded me of the many times I had visited batting centers with my friends after school, swinging at baseballs until our shoulders were sore, setting free our daily stresses with every whack. Perhaps hunting monsters would have a similarly therapeutic effect.

As I glanced down at my war-hammer, it seemed as though the weapon, its shiny head glinting in the sun, were smiling back at me. It might be an inanimate object, but it was also a companion in every sense of the word, one that I would be relying on to get me through the troubles that would inevitably come my way.

"We'll go on a lot of adventures together from now on," I murmured. "I'm counting on you."

The next half-hour was spent traipsing about the grasslands, seeking out any boars that might be unlucky enough to fall within my line of sight. I gradually learned from trial and error how the boars reacted to attacks, the ways in which they moved, and how to tell what they were going to do next. I took my fair share of blows and jabs to my stomach and back – one of which winded me and sent me into a brief panic as I rolled about in agony on the floor – but after using up the first couple of health potions, I became seasoned enough in the ways of boar-hunting to no longer require much healing. Of particular help to me was the knowledge that they were weakest at the back of their head, meaning that if I could sneak up behind them and land a solid strike there, they would more often than not perish without so much as a whimper.

Having dispatched a respectable number of boars, I was suddenly notified that my player level had risen. Opening my menu, I scrutinized the options that had now been made available to me. In the tumult of everything that had happened so far, I had almost forgotten that I was still in what was, for all intents and purposes, a game.

Yet what greeted me was far beyond anything I would have ever expected – the skill tree, upon which all the possible abilities and effects were listed, was so large that it took me a full minute to scroll from one end of the tree to the other. I was soon made aware of the true scale of what actually could be done in Sword Art Online: one could advance their proficiencies in over a dozen different varieties of weapons, learn life skills that might be useful out in the field such as swimming and trapping, raise their stats in more traditional professions such as carpentry and sewing, or even engage in more niche pursuits such as negotiating, chanting, and even stealing. I hoped to never have to level up my skills in burglary, but if push came to shove, at least I knew the option was there.

Amidst the utter deluge of options on offer, one particular class of professions stood out to me. Players evidently had the capacity to engage in professions that could typically be left to NPCs, and one such example was smithing, which also included composite specializations like metal forging, refining, armor- and weapon-smithing, and so on.

I recalled the NPC blacksmith in his grubby workshop, sweat on his brow, banging away at slabs of steel for what would likely be hours on end. I couldn't even begin to imagine how much my joints would ache if I tried doing something like that on a day-to-day basis – that is, if my virtual limbs had the capacity to ache at all. In either case, something more relaxing – like tailoring – would probably be better suited to my relatively delicate frame, even if I'd never been much of a seamstress in real life.

I decided to apply my allotted three skill points towards my proficiency in the one-handed war-hammer, at which point the ability nearest to the base of the skill tree was unlocked. I noted from the heading at the top of my menu that this particular type of usable skill was called a Sword Skill – even though I wasn't actually using a sword – and could be equipped in one of two skill slots. Swapping over to my slot window, I found that I already had another Sword Skill sitting in one of the slots, and I had simply failed to realize whether I was using it during my thirty minutes of smacking boars on the noggin.

After filling in the other open slot with my freshly unlocked skill, I took a few moments to look over what each Sword Skill actually did. The first one – Bear Claw – simply required the user to raise their hammer over their head, wait for their weapon to glow red, and then bring it crashing down upon their foe. I lifted my war-hammer upwards, and sure enough, the head of the weapon was consumed in a wash of crimson light. I had clearly failed to realize that I was actually using Sword Skills this entire time, though I'd observed that some of my strikes had seemed a lot more powerful than the others.

The second, newer skill – Double Tap – was a little trickier: I needed to swing the weapon over my left shoulder, strike, then swing it over my right shoulder and strike again. I practiced the maneuver a few times, noticing that the head of my hammer glowed green instead, in keeping with the background color of the icon of the Sword Skill I was presently using.

Just as I was scanning my surroundings, considering what to do next, I caught sight of a pair of players struggling to hold off the brutal advances of a buffalo-like creature. As I watched, it rammed into one of them and sent him sprawling against a nearby tree.

For a split second, I froze. I dearly wanted to help, but the buffalo was at least one-and-a-half times my height, and looked a considerably more daunting proposition than any of the boars I'd faced thus far. As the beast's menacing glare passed over me, the same fear that had taken hold of me yesterday afternoon came rushing back.

It was, I now realized, the fear of death.

Yet there was something slightly different about the emotions I currently felt – it no longer seemed as though my terror at the prospect of dying had total control over my body, chaining me in place, forcing me to watch from afar as tragedy struck. Crucially, I still maintained the feeling in my legs, and each step I dragged forward became easier and easier, until I eventually found myself running at full pelt, my weapon brandished, my heartbeat thumping deafeningly in my ears.

The remaining player, a girl who looked no older than I did, held her dagger out and poked blindly in the buffalo's direction as she looked away, her features a mask of wide-eyed desperation. But just as the buffalo turned its horns towards her and prepared to charge, I managed to dart between them and, without missing a beat, let fly with both of my Sword Skills before following up with a flurry of normal attacks. I had neither the time nor will to think, only to act.

The boy, having risen to his feet, joined me in bombarding the creature with rapid swipes from his broadsword, and it wasn't long until our combined efforts had deleted it from our virtual plane of existence. We took a few moments to calm ourselves down and catch our respective breaths before meeting each other's gaze.

"You alright?" the boy asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'm fine."

"That's good," he said as he patted down his leather armor. "Thanks ever so much. Could've been a goner if you hadn't helped out." He clapped the girl's back. "C'mon, say thanks."

The girl looked up, but for some reason refused to make eye contact. "Thanks," she muttered at the boulder next to me.

"You're very welcome." I stuck out a hand, and the boy took it. "I'm Liz… Lisbeth. What are your names?"

"I'm Fin, and this is my younger sister, Wing." He smiled awkwardly. "Don't take her shyness personally. She… gets really anxious around strangers. I thought this game would be a nice turn of pace for her, maybe help her find some buddies online. But this whole shebang about not being able to log out and dying in the real world kinda put a spanner in the works."

"You said it." I chuckled half-heartedly. "I told my friends I'd try this game out first, and if it was fun I'd get them to join me. I want to say it's a good thing they didn't end up locked in here with me, but to be completely frank… it's pretty lonely."

"Sorry to hear that, though like you say, it's good that they're safe." He held up a finger. "What say you join our party? We could use the help, and you look like you know what you're doing. More than we do, anyway."

"Honestly, I'm not totally sure what I'm doing, either. I had a partner who I was probably going to party up with, but she went off somewhere this morning. I'd love to come with you guys, though, so just shoot me an invite." I accepted the party invitation that sprang up in front of me, and a pair of lime-green Hit Point bars materialized in the top-left corner of my vision. "I'm in your care," I added.

"Likewise." Fin smiled again, this time more brightly. I returned the expression, and my spirits were lifted considerably as we began walking alongside each other. While Rimi's company last night did not go unappreciated, I still felt somewhat irked by her dragging me around and doing things at her own meteoric pace. Far better to acquaint yourself with someone who you could call an equal, especially in the heat of battle.

I would think about looking for Rimi later, once we were done hunting for the day. For now, I would focus my attention on my newfound acquaintances, people that I hoped I would soon be able to call friends.