Chapter posted: 28th May 2022
Damn, longest chapter to date! Sorry for the delay, real life got in the way. And yes, I'm aware there won't be a new Sinonon chapter this month, but don't worry! I've got something special planned in return.
And to a certain someone who asked for a certain something, you've got your wish. Also, this chapter is a bit more M-rated than others. Don't read at work!
Don't forget to join the Discord! discord . gg / bCXxHaTHhA (remove spaces)
Chapter 12: The Rat and the Merchant
"Primm has a new sheriff. That should keep the Powder Gangers at bay."
- Fallout: New Vegas
Fort Eternal Vigilance was in a tizzy.
The servants of the fort had let slip of a kidnapping attempt: the illustrious CEO of the Kirito Corporation had been whisked away and likely sacrificed to dark gods had he not been saved by his faithful Head of Hunting. This in turn panicked more people. Old Families and New Settlers alike had begun to post guards from among their numbers, their faith in the Eternal Watch considerably weakened.
When farmers become pretend soldiers, when they sharpened their hoes into spears, their hammers into tomahawks, less work would be done. The clearing had been halted, and there had been little in the way of workers for the logging camp upstream. Even the workers at the quarry seemed to be working slower.
And there was still so much work to be done.
"Sir, I - I can't make more locks for you. We need the iron for tools."
The customer, a stout Granum man with a big moustache, slammed both hands on the table. "Tools? Tools?! We've got zombies and necrowizards running around, disturbing our peace, and all you can think about is tools? We need to keep our homes safe!"
"But … you live in a tent. You can't lock a tent flap."
The man folded his considerably large arms over his broad chest. "I'll be the judge of that. And I want a good one too, that needs five different keys! And then, I want keys for every one of my kids, and one for my wife, a nice keyring to go with it, and bla bla, bla bla bla …"
Nezha suppressed a sigh. He'd been doing that a lot lately. On the upside, he was leveling his «Smithing» to a considerable degree. Who knew spending his time forging metal instead of finding ore would lead to that?
He wanted at first to specialise into «Bladesmith» but wondered if it would be better to spec into something more mundane like «Ironworks»or «Coinminting»; you could make quite the Col with the latter. As popular as swords were, the number of clients were small but everyone needed spearheads, arrowheads, horseshoes, nails, hinges, locks and all that utility stuff. It was not an uncommon occurrence for big guilds to turn away player-smiths who tend to overspecialise into making weapons, when what they really needed were saws and wood axes.
That, and a lot of guilds barely paid for newbie smiths. Maybe you could get lucky, and make a name for yourself. Nezha himself knew only a handful of smiths that made big Col, not because of their high Skill, but because of their business sense - something he himself lacked. Maybe he should ask the boss for advice? He still hadn't met him despite being almost two weeks at this place.
"Hey, are you listening to me?!"
Nezha returned to (virtual) reality. "Look, a lock on a tent flap is just a dumb idea, okay?"
He immediately regretted saying that. The big man was about to explode and Nezha winced at the incoming tirade. If only Lisbeth-senpai was here -
"Hold on now, what do we have here?"
A newcomer arrived, as if out of thin air. A scrawny looking fella in a tunic a size too big for him, long black hair reaching the nape of his neck and baby brown eyes, looking far younger than he probably was. What was curious was the longsword in hand, sheathed in a very plain scabbard. Nezha had never seen him before.
"Ah, it's you," the big man said the last part with a particular dash of venom.
"It is indeed I, Master Dupont."
"Master Yeoman Pierre Dupont," he corrected. "Fought with Ser Reginald at …"
"... the Battle of Deer Men, broke your leg and still kept shooting, slew a dozen of the bastards, most impressive!" he finished.
The yeoman twirled his moustache, not noticing the sarcasm. "Ah, have I told you that before?"
"You've told everyone about it a dozen or so times, but each retelling is even more exciting than the last!"
Dupont waved his hand about, gracefully accepting the praise. "Regardless, this fort's in a mess. My family is still waiting on getting the home you've promised."
"There's twenty families on the waiting list, and you're a latecomer, as we've discussed. We are on schedule to have them completed before snowfall."
He folded his arms over his barrel chest. "Ah, but they're slow to come. My wife's already expecting another child, and I've six children doing work about the fort. Yet Allemand, who has only two children, already has a cabin of his own! My wife shall not give birth in a dirty tent!"
Nezha could not see a single strain on the stranger's face, as if he had a century's worth of retail experience, dealing with unruly and terrible customers. He merely smiled and said, "Allemand came early, as you know, and first come first serve is the policy. You signed the contract, you knew what you signed for."
"Um, well …"
He continued, "And worry not for your dear Julia, the fort is almost finished with a state of the art infirmary. We've even hired an experienced physician from First City! All I ask, Master Dupont, is a little more patience. And to not harass my staff."
At that, the Granumite settled down. "Very well, master merchant. I will wait a little while. And apologies to you, master smith. That was ungentlemanly of me."
With that, the yeoman left to return to his work. Nezha let out a sigh of relief he didn't notice he was holding.
"See, customers are like puppies. You need to be firm with them and set boundaries," said the stranger. "You okay?"
"Yeah, it's just the heat." Nezha reached his hand out and they shook. The smith inwardly cringed at how sweaty his palm was but if the stranger noticed, he said nothing. "So, what can I do for you? Sharpen your sword?"
"My sword?" He looked at the weapon in hand, as if just realising he was carrying it. "Ah, this isn't mine. It's the main prize for the upcoming tournament."
Nezha's eyes widened. "Tournament?"
The stranger put a finger to his lips. "Shhh, no one knows yet! It's going to be revealed later at the end of the month. Wanna see?"
He looked left and right, in an almost conspiratorial manner, before unsheathing the blade. It took Nezha's breath away.
Its quillons were long gone, but the stumps spoke of giltwork. The leather of the grip had rotted away leaving similarly dead wood. Not even the pommel survived, leaving just the vaguest impression of what it looked like.
But the blade - that survived the entropy of time. It was a good meter long, turning from shining white to a deep blue colour as it was being inspected. It was without flaw, neither chip or dented in any way. Whoever its previous owner clearly loved it, but that didn't explain the rest of the condition of the sword.
The blade rippled as it was turned. A trick of the eye?
The stranger read his mind. "«Astrazastra» - Starmetal. That ripple you saw said to contain a fragment of a star's soul. Sharp enough that it could cut through padding, mail, and plate. Assuming you're a good enough wielder. Its name is «Banishment», one of a hundred said to be used against the being called the Elucidator."
"W-where did you find that?"
"I didn't. Hired a guild to find it, a dungeon called the Starscourge General's Tomb. Well, here ya' go. Make it shine."
Nezha took a step back, a feeling of unworthiness washing over him as the sword was given to him. The amount of word needed to change the guard and hilt was a Herculean task on its own. "Whoa, that's beyond me. I can't even make a decent arming sword, much less work on that!"
The stranger raised an eyebrow at that. "Uh, Nezha-san. I just wanted you to polish it."
"Oh. Oh yeah. I can definitely do that."
The awkwardness was immediately banished as the other player slapped a hand on his shoulder. "Well, don't keep me from working and don't let folk trample on you like that. Libseth-chan said good things about you, maybe you can get yourself a raise."
A raise? Now that sounded good. "Yeah, sure. That'd be great."
As the stranger left, the smith only then realised something. "Hey, hold on. Who are you anyway?"
The player didn't turn around, only raised a hand in goodbye. "Your illustrious CEO, of course!"
Nezha almost dropped the priceless sword. A rush of emotions washed over him. He had been working here for so long, he almost forgot the secondary reason why he came here in the first place, when it was just called Fort Vigilance! That … that guy … was the son of a bitch that killed him?!
Throatcutter.
The training field had been much improved in the last couple of months. Gone were the tall grass (and the goats with them), turned into a rectangle of packed dirt and gravel. There, Master of Arms Robert was jogging with a bunch of new recruits, a few players but mostly NPCs from the local tribes. In full cuirass no less.
"Sir! Do. We. Really. Need. All. This. Gear on us?" asked an exasperated Hansel.
"Builds up your endurance! The heavier the armour, the stronger you get!"
"I think my ankles are slowly breaking."
"Bones get stronger when they heal!"
"I DON'T SEE AN ISSUE WITH THIS AT ALL," said Brickwall, who had put on another mail cape.
On the other side, an archery butt had been set up. There, Head of Hunting Sinon was instructing the recruits in the use of crossbows, a weapon not very popular among the Free Tribes but perfect for fort defence.
She stepped up to Gretel, inspecting the recruit's crossbow. "Trooper Gretel, I didn't see you at camouflage training yesterday!"
"Sir, thank you, sir!"
Elsewhere, Head of Security Asuna was training a few recruits on horseback. There weren't many available mounts but it was important to have a handful of them, expensive as they were. That was until a courier came to the fort some time ago, seeking aid. The beavers had begun their vengeful raid on the lumber mill and she picked a handful of players to do battle with the flat tailed brigands.
The fort's tower overlooked the training field and she could spy Kirito looking outside the window. Even from here, she could see how the wind swept his hair. A thousand yard stare adorn his face, the stress of the job had been weighing on him. But she knew better, she knew him the longest. He'd get through it.
So focused was she on Kirito, she didn't notice the fist flying right at her.
Knuckles made contact with cheek, throwing her back. She staggered before regaining her footing and counter-attacked automatically with a straight. Fist met open palm instead.
Her opponent gave a worried look. "Something on your mind?"
He let go of her as she wiped her cheek. "Nah, just tired."
He smirked but did not press. Argo knew he wasn't pushing it and appreciated it.
Hopeful Rays from Behind the Cloud, Brother-Ghazi of Suyufa al-Shams, or simply known as Brother Rays to most, had been her sparring partner ever since he arrived. Asuna was too busy training, Sinon refused to get into melee, and Kirito had, for reasons still unfathomable to her, refused to pick up his sword. So she spent a good chunk of her time getting into tavern fights for the thrill of it; every recruit had gone at her, all failing.
When she was on the business trip to Mankhlar, not only was she reinforcing her info network, she also got into an illegal ring of underground fights.
When asked why she always returned to the inn in such a bad shape, she simply said, "Someone tried to mug me."
"Ah, okay. Try to be more careful next time," Kirito said, as if getting into fistfights with thugs was an everyday occurrence. Which, now she thought about it, was pretty much the case for the playerbase. The old Kirito would have beaten them for the hell of it.
They rested on a nearby bench. All around them, people were training, farmers were farming, carpenters were setting up the frames of a house. Argo wiped the sweat off her forehead, the cup of water in hand already drained.
"Brother Rays, are you married?"
"I am married to Ad-din Al-Adeel - the Path of Justice."
"I meant to someone, Lawful Dumbass."
"Ah, no. I had a sweetheart once. Farah was her name, but we did not see eye to eye on many things, didn't work out."
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that."
"She was also the daughter of the necromancer lord that we were tasked to slay, and tried to infiltrate our order to spy on us. But worst of all, she always littered. That was the deal breaker."
"But not the necromancy."
He shrugged. "She was very pretty. Regardless, I am a fighter, not a lover, Miss Argo. I'm afraid I am not in position to help. Up for another round?"
"Sure thing."
Maybe she could get Kirito to spar. For security purposes, of course. And not because she wanted to pin him under her. Totally.
She made her way back to her room after a dip in the river. It was on the eastern wall, where most of the fort staff stayed. A row of three rooms belonged to the girls, though Argo herself rarely used her room on the account of her many trips.
It surprised her to see Asuna and Sinon there at this time of day. They both were clad mail hauberks and helmets, Asuna wore her rapier and shamshir, Sinon had three bundles of arrows under an armpit, a belt of bolt quivers and a massive arbalest. They were dressed for war.
"What's going on?"
"Trouble from afar," said Asuna. "Raiders from the plains just launched their attack at Fort Valador. Ser Reginald has asked us for our aid. We're taking the best troops and leaving a token force to guard the fort."
"Hell yeah, time to punch us some bandits!"
Sinon shook her head. "No, you're staying. Kirito needs all hands on deck. Besides, kinda hard to punch horse archers when they shoot at you from a hundred yards away."
"If someone were to shoot an arrow at me, I would simply catch it and throw it back at them." That wasn't a brag, Argo had done so before.
"You can catch one, maybe a few, but how about a hundred?" asked Sinon.
"Wanna bet?" the Rat challenged.
"Girls, please," pleaded Asuna. "Hold the fort for us, Argo. The place will be barren for a week, maybe two. We're not sure."
"No problem, Aa-chan. I'll just be here, with Kii-bou … alone. Together. For who knows how long. Fu fu fu~"
Robert appeared at the end of the hallway, "Come on, ladies! Those raiders won't stab themselves!"
Asuna stomped away, face red. Sinon said, "Save him for me too, will ya?"
She went to Kirito's office and found him looking at a map with Tupi and Rays. They looked worried.
Rays spoke first, "It's not good. The cult has increased activity around the area. They've been sending out their spies, defiling graves, and kidnapping villagers. This speaks of ill news. I expect a mass ritual of some kind."
Tupi tapped at the parchment on the wall showing, surprisingly enough, a map of the 19th and 20th Floor. There was nary a settlement on it, just miles upon miles of plains. "The other Free Tribes call them many things: enemy, barbarian, killers, but they call themselves the Rumine," Tupi explained.
"They are a saddled people, who hunt and war on horseback. They send forth their horse archers and blot the enemy with arrows, before sending in their cavalry to skewer the enemy with lances, fourteen feet long They are the most warlike and dangerous peoples amongst the Free Tribes. They raid the lower and upper lands every spring and fall. Not a people in the entire castle that has not felt their only reason they've yet to conquer the rest is because they love to fight amongst each other as much as they do strangers."
"You sure seem to know a lot about them, steward," said Kirito.
"Of course. I was one of them. But that was ages ago, my tribe is the Watch."
"Hard to think you were a fearsome warrior back in your youth, Toops," said Argo.
The steward frowned at that. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Do you think this sudden raid has anything to do with cult activity?" asked Rays.
"Unlikely, they raid every spring and fall. But we're in the last vestiges of summer, this is what makes it strange. But we owe Fort Arrowhead and Ser Reginald our support, and if he asks for warriors, the Watch must answer."
Rays shook his head. "Irrelevant. The Watch must fight necromancers lest they free the Prisoner. We must hunt them down."
"Hard to hunt them down when we're undermanned, you know," said Argo.
"That is true," said the paladin. "Well, CEO? What do you propose?"
Kirito took his seat. "We do as we planned. Train our troops, contact mages to help with the wards and ensure the tournament goes smoothly. We'll be swarmed with recruits and money in no time."
"Tournament?" asked Rays. "Ah, I see. A summoning of warriors and champions. The cult may strike when we are most vulnerable."
"Leave that to us, Brother Rays. The Watch has stood for generations, it will stand for generations still," said Tupi resolutely.
The two men left, leaving the merchant and info broker alone in the office (finally!). Kirito's mask let slip, his confident professional smile turned into one of concentrated annoyance.
"That bad, huh?"
"We didn't expect Ser Reginald's call out of the blue. We don't have enough men for the fort. No, not bad, but not great either. Situation salvageable."
"You look so cute when you're in businessman mode like that."
Kirito shrugged off the compliment like plate armour shrugs off arrows. "Hmm, with the income from the extra lumber, and the pelts sold from the attack, we could potentially still have some profit by the end of the month, just enough to - Argo, get your foot off my desk."
"Not until you check these out."
"Your … shoe?"
"No! My shorts? How do you like em'?"
Argo wasn't as fashion conscious as Kirito was, but she was still a lady. Her usual loose flowing pants made way for a pair of figure hugging buckskin shorts, the closest she could get to replicating denim. It stuck to her finely shaped ass in her opinion, and showed off her thick legs very well.
He blinked. "They look nice."
"They do! Wanna feel em'?" she asked, tensing her legs. Her thigh muscle grew ever so slightly.
"No thanks." He looked away, a slight blush to his face. She'd have to thank Sinon for, if not destroying his walls outright, greatly cracking them.
"I bet you'd look great in them, I've got another pair just your size."
"You're not gonna relent, are you?"
"Not until you wear em'." And touch me like you used to.
"Tell you what, help around the fort, and I'll give you a reward."
Argo fist pumped mentally. "Come on, how bad of a problem do we have around here?"
"I was literally kidnapped!"
"Once. Remind me to set you up for a self defense class, headed by Argo-sensei, of course."
Kirito sighed.
It only took a few days for people to notice. The farmers had noticed the lack of patrols and troops training in the field. This in turn led to many questions which the remaining Watchmen answered with non-answers. The Watch only took a few days at most to go on raids, and even then in small numbers.
Kirito and Argo were visiting a longhouse of a prominent chief to explain themselves. "The Watch is currently engaging in a military exercise with Ser Reginald and some other Granum colonies. They will return when they're done."
An old woman protested. "So, we've got zombies and wizards about, and you decide to send the troops away? And leave us to fend for ourselves? Why not tell us?"
"Because that's the Watch's business, some military intel is required to keep private for the safety of the organisation," he said, and even Argo knew that he was also trying to convince himself. "Besides, we still have two dozen men to guard us."
The old woman harrumphed. She was Old Lady Ohkwáho, an ancient woman over a hundred years old. Though small and hunchbacked, she was the main authority behind the Old Families, and had been old when Tupi had barely any hairs on his face. Her children had grandchildren, and they all answered to the Matriach, even those who weren't close family. It was thanks to her influence was she able to recall many a family member to work on the fort.
"Very well, milord. Though know that you need us more than you."
It didn't take long for the trouble to pop up again. Yeoman Dupont had marched right into Kirito's office while he was busy coordinating with Argo's own intel. He was followed by Old Lady Ohkwáho, who had to be carried in the arms of one of her great granddaughters.
"Lord Kirito, this is unacceptable!" said the yeoman. "We demand justice!"
"Indeed, for one I agree with the Granumite," said the centenarian.
Argo saw Kirito put on his mask of professionalism and a fake smile before putting his quill down. "Of course, what can I do for you?"
Dupont continued, "There's been another brawl, and I demand compensation from the Old Families."
It was explained then: One of Dupont's sons got into a fight with one of the maids at the fort, one of Ohkwáho's granddaughters. It had come to fisticuffs. The Watch had to come in to stop the fight, with mixed results. Now there was even worse blood between the two groups, and something had to be done.
Had it been just that, it would not have been an issue; brawls happened all the time. It was a good thing in Argo's opinion; you hate a guy, the other guy hates you, you punch for a bit, then you're buddies. In fact, getting into a fight was how she met Kirito in the first place.
But there had been more than that: insults, name calling, thievery, and the like. The Old Families were mostly of the Orage, and the Free Tribes had different norms than the New Settlers, most of whom were Granumites. For the Orage, if you needed something, you just took it without asking; for a tool of a man was that of the tribe, something the Granumites didn't agree with. The Orage found the Granumites to be stiff and snobbish, the word chivalry did not exist in their tongue.
Those Granum families that were born and raised in colonist forts were far more agreeable with the customs. In essence, much of the arguments had been borne from culture clash. It reminded Argo not unlike how foreigners came to Japan, not understanding their customs, and locals getting upset about it. Listen, anyone who talks on the phone on the train should be kicked out the window. That's just the way it was.
"I say, with the lack of troops around the fort, we elect a sheriff!" said the yeoman.
"A Granum custom, as if we don't have enough of those!" spat Ohkwáho. "Well, if we are to have one, then it must be from us."
"Of you? When your people are stealing from us? It should be from us Granumites, for we know of the code of chivalry."
"Is that the thing you call the stick up your ass?"
"You dare -"
"Enough!" Kirito said, slamming a palm on the table. "As this is Watch business, we will elect our own sheriff. That should be sufficient to keep problems to a minimum. Now return to your work, if you please."
Both patriarch and matriarch grumbled under their breaths as they left. Kirito collapsed into his chair. "Ugh. I'll take fighting a dragon over this."
"Nothing's stopping you, ya know."
"I put all my points into «Carpentry», «Tailoring» and «Fishing», sorry."
She circled behind, putting hands on his shoulders. "C'mon, Kazuto. It'll be like old times. Get out of this stuffy office and cut some heads off."
At that, he scrunched his face. Was he really considering it?
"Mmm, sorry. I'm not feeling it. Why don't you find someone as sheriff? There's gotta be someone here. It has to be the locals, I don't think they'd accept a player."
She began shaking him. "No! No! We should be off, together, like the old days! Whatever happened to my cool swordsman boyfriend?!"
"We broke up," he said, without any malice. "Can you find a sheriff? I'm kinda swamped."
Argo pouted. "Fiiine, I guess."
"Or you could help me with these invoices … Argo?"
She pulled a Sinon and jumped out the window. They were on the third floor.
It took Tupi a few days but she got her list of candidates. She summoned them after lunch and there they stood before her on the training fields. It was strange, seeing the field so empty.
The Rat sat behind a desk, examining them. "So, do you think you have what it takes to be a sheriff?"
One of them raised a hand. "What's a sheriff?"
Oh boy. She ignored the question. "Alright, first up. You - name, skills, and why you should get this job."
The first of them was a wiry Orage woman, somewhere around Argo's age. She had braided black hair and carried a bow on her and a bundle of tomahawks. "I'm Chitra, the best hunter at the fort! If someone does a no-no, I'll find em' and put an arrow in their bum!"
"We'd prefer it if you solved problems without violence."
"Don't worry, I can do non-lethal shots."
Great, a discount Sinon. "Okay. How about you?"
The second man was in a good kit of mail and plate, the kind of kit that the sons of wealthy landowners handed down to their sons. Good arming sword and fancy buckler were buckled to his belt. "Madam, I am Hugo and I formerly squired for my Uncle Adam. I know how to care for a horse and how to fight. I am your man, and future sheriff of this humble settlement."
Not bad, but he was a Granumite and they had their ideas of what was right and proper that clashed with the tribals. "If you catch someone stealing, what is the appropriate punishment?"
"We lop off their hand, as is proper," he said, as if she had asked what two plus two was.
Fantastic. "And how about you, big man?'
The last candidate was a big lad, as tall as Robert and wider. In a different time, he would have been a mighty warlord of his own. Of the three, this one Tupi had the most misgivings about because, well …
He stopped picking at his nose. "Lunch time?"
"No, Shaste. You already had lunch," said Chitra. He actually had the lunch of three men just before Argo saw.
Shaste was the son of Tupi's sister-in-law, and his mother, a kind and loving woman, who cared for her son very much. He had the strength of an ox but also the brains of one; his words, not hers.
"He can't do very complex work," Tupi had told her. "He can sweep floors, haul things, till earth, but he can't wash dishes, carry fragile things or plant seeds. That's just the way he is."
"And you're giving me his name because …"
"Look at him, man's bigger than Robert!"
"Can he -"
"No, he's a coward. When he was a kid, everyone treated him like a punching bag."
And these were the three she had to work with, great. Doing finance didn't seem like too bad a time about now.
"Okay, so I can't choose between the three of you, not yet." She raised a finger to stop any arguments. "We're gonna walk around the fort, solving any problem we see. And you'll be judged at the end of the day, understand?"
They did. Well maybe not Shaste but he can learn on the job.
Brickwall was the most senior soldier left in charge, alongside a handful of greenhorns. He was a bit upset about being left behind, but as Asuna said, the man can stand in a shield wall until the end of time, but he can't chase down horse raiders.
Argo approached him for problems and he gave her patrol routes. "THERE'S BARELY ANYONE ON THE ROAD FROM HERE TO THE MINES, IF YOU CAN GET ON THAT, I'D APPRECIATE IT."
The four of them made their way and Argo asked them what they thought the sheriff's job was.
"It is to protect the weak and innocent like a knight," said Hugo; a generic but acceptable answer.
"It's to ensure that no one starves and has enough warmth for winter," said Chitra; the expected for the family hunter.
It took a moment for Shaste to come up with his. "Make sure no one is mean to each other!" he said cheerily; naive but not incorrect. Chitra stood on her tippie toes and patted him on the head.
The road to the mines had been paved with gravel and the carters greeted them as they passed by. It didn't take long for them to encounter a problem.
In the middle of the road, just within sight of the mine's palisade entrance, a group of men were arguing and shouting at each other. With them were two overturned carts, spilling raw iron and broken casks of beer onto the ground. One side had tomahawks in their fists, the other pickaxes. This could get messy.
"What's going on here?" asked Argo. Two of the men turned to her. Argo recognised the former as the foreman of the mine.
"Ah, Lady Argo! Glad you're here! This idiot crashed into one of my men's cart and now demands payment for spilt beer," said the foreman.
"Me? I was bringing the miners food, as we were paid for, and now these fools refuse to pay! You broke it, you bought it!" said the other.
Welcome to the fantastic world of Sword Art Online! The great castle in the sky! Go on grand adventures with your friends! Plunge into ancient dungeons! Slay fearsome dragons!
And solve fucking traffic jams, apparently. Of all the goddamn bullshit Kayaba puts everyone through …
"Well, prospective sheriffs? What's the result here?"
The three of them thought for a bit. Hugo answered first. "As the beer is gone completely, and the merchant has brought it all the way here anyway, the foreman should pay for damages."
Chitra disagreed. "No way. You can recollect the raw iron, and the miners didn't get their beer. The miners shouldn't pay."
Both good points. "Well, Shaste? What do you think?"
The giant merely walked up to both foreman and merchant, casting a shadow over both of them with his wide frame. He gave the two a most ferocious frowny face and clapped his bear paws on each of their shoulders.
"Make peace."
"Hold on, feller," said the foreman. "This is a business dispu-"
"No. Four-Man pay Beer Man half. Beer Man picks Four-Man's iron back. No fighting."
"Err, sure thing, big guy. We'll do just that."
And like rain upon water, tensions deflated as both groups cleaned up after the mess.
It wasn't the best conflict resolution but it was something. "Good job, Shesta," she said, patting him on the back; well the back of the knee - the guy was seven feet tall versus her five feet.
Shasta nodded happily, like a puppy being praised.
They made their way up to the lumber mill next. At some point, Chitra picked up a dead branch and carved a club for Shaste. It was, of course, made for the hunter's smaller hand, and looked like a toy in his fist, but the giant liked it all the same.
At some point, they found a pair of beavers mugging some poor woman. The beaver, noticing the newcomers, grabbed the victim and placed a knife at her throat. It screeched at them to not come closer. Realising they suddenly found themselves in a hostage situation, everyone froze.
The beaver made its demands, told them to throw their weapons down, which they all did, save for Chitra, who threw her tomahawk right into the beaver's skull with the swiftness of a skilled ranger.
Hugo and Shaste went to comfort the poor woman. Argo glared at her. "She could have died, moron!"
"But she didn't, and that's what matters. Ma told me that most problems in life could be solved with an axe to the face."
"Thanks for the help," said the woman. "Now my kids won't be starving tonight." She knelt by the beaver's corpse and pulled out a knife. The four of them left the woman to her bloody work.
The third encounter came at sunset. They always came in threes, that's basic RPG design.
They found Hansel and Gretel on the road, one of the few remaining Watchmen not brought along. They were taking cover behind a fence, alongside a family of farmers.
"What's up, kids?" Argo greeted.
Hansel made a face at being called a kid. Gretel answered, "A bunch of those plains raiders made their way here, barged into the farmer's house and kicked them out. Now they're eating all their food and drinking their beer. We'd go in to take them out but …
Words refused to come out of her mouth. They were low level. "Ah, I see. Why not summon Brickwall-san?"
"No! We don't want him thinking we're a bunch of noobs! And the other recruits are too far away."
Hugo placed a gauntleted hand on the boy's shoulder. "How many were they?"
"Uh, about five, we think."
"I see." He put on his greathelm and saluted Argo. "Lady, permission to duel the brigands?"
"Shouldn't you do this as a team?"
"No need."
"Okie dokie then."
Hugo went in, screaming chivalry at the top of his lungs, and the sound of battle erupted from the farmhouse. Five minutes later, he exited, completely covered in blood. He saluted her again. "The day has been saved."
"Not bad, Hugo. Not bad."
He bowed to the family. "You might want to air out your house. I got a little too enthusiastic there."
As they returned to the fort, Chitra finally asked. "So, which one us will be made sheriff?"
"Well …"
"Argo, am I reading this report right? Hire all three of them? We don't have money for that!"
"That's the thing Kii-bou, they're terrible by themselves but with each other, they're much better."
Kirito sighed, scratching his head. "No, you need to choose one. I'm sure they work fantastically well, but the money …"
"You let me handle that, I've got a secret weapon!"
"Fine, but this better not bite us in the ass."
"I don't know Kii-bou, you've got a really nice one. Speaking of which, I've gotten a pair of shorts that would look great on you." She paid a lot to get the tailor to make one quick.
"Yes, I saw you leaving it on my bed. Remember what I said: solve the problems first and you'll get a reward," he said, casually, turning on his chair to look at his charts.
"You think too little of me, Kii-bou." And you will rue the day you decided to oppose me.
"Argo, I can literally hear you say that last bit." Kirito turned to see that once again, she pulled off a Sinon.
It took a couple of days for correspondence to happen. Kirito worked his pen and calmed the residents, while Argo met her contacts and sparred. Lisbeth was working hard on something, what it was, she didn't have to time to snoop around. The new sheriffs were proving their worth, breaking fights with threats, an arrow to the knee or a hand on a pommel.
When the meeting was set, Argo made her way to her destination, an hour away from the fort.
The establishment sat on the crossroads right in the middle of right in the middle of Floor 16, not too far from Fort Arrowhead and the Forbidden Woods where many a ruin and dungeon lay waiting to be exploited. News had reached her that on the 17th Floor, the Kyoto Warhawks had tried and failed to besiege the Castoridae League's Great Dam , and so reeling from the failure, took it to raiding the League's smaller villages with a vengeance.
The Bronze Axe Inn was a charming longhouse with a raised wall, half brick and half wooden palisade, surrounding it. It was built on a hill overlooking the field. It was busy, as it always was, with farmer carts unloading food, merchants with wares, and weary sellswords taking respite. She made her way through the gates, guarded by two mailed fighters with spears, and handed the reins of her pony to a stable boy. In the compound itself merchants had set up their own shops and tents. The strategic value of the inn alone must have raked in a lot of profit.
Argo swung the door open. It was late morning and the inn was sparse. "Ho, innkeeper! I'll have your finest -"
A tomahawk lodged itself in the doorframe. Argo was nonplussed. "Wow, rude much?"
"You ain't welcome here, Rat!" growled the innkeep. "Last time you were here, you broke so many damn tables it took half the month's earnings to replace them!"
"Oh come on, Mama Bear! You gotta admit that was an impressive piledriver I pulled off!" And to be fair, the asshole drunk was hitting on her. So impressive was it that even his guildmates paid for her meal.
The older woman folded her hands and scoffed. She was as bronze as her kinsman, with short greying hair tied in a bun and thick, scarred forearms. Above her was a massive bronze axe, the namesake of the tavern. The inkeep was an accomplished fighter in her day and she took said axe from a great beaver warlord that she slew in a duel. Many of the Free Tribes still speak her name with awe and reverence. When people met her, they would be surprised this tiny woman was the fearsome warlord killer.
Her true name was Kanya, but her patrons lovingly called her Mama Bear. While she was technically head of her own family, she had relatives living at the fort. Though unlike the families of the fort, she was not under the protection of the Watch, which was fine by her; most of her customers were from the Watch or Fort Arrowhead anyway.
"Yeaaah, I guessed it was. But where's the money?"
"You gonna throw an axe at me again?"
"As I've said, most problems in life could be solved with an axe to the face."
Ah, she saw the familial similarities then. "Can't make money off a dead woman."
"Just give me the money, you weasel."
Kanya caught the coin pouch and weighed it with the acumen of a seasoned mercenary. "You're short a few hundred."
"Didn't say I'd pay in one go."
"Then beat it. I'll have your money or I'll have your hide."
"Now, now, sayidda. Let the young lady stay. I'll chip in my own coin," said a sing-song voice in the corner. "I'll even give my castle famous massages later, eh?"
Amazingly, the old bear blushed like a maiden. "Well, for you my handsome bard, anything."
Argo rolled her eyes.
The info broker found herself seated at the table across a familiar face; a handsome man with an oiled beard, a bright blue turban with a matching kaftan. He was the only man that out-fashioned Kirito as far as she could judge.
"Ah, little Mouse. We meet again."
"I take it that celebrity life back in the big city got boring?"
Sa'id the Su'luk sipped his tea before continuing. "Ah, you've no idea. Performing at rich people's salons, needing an agent to book my own shows. No longer do I travel the land, never knowing when my next meal will come, sleeping in barns or under the stars or rousing rebellions against petty lords. Running away from my agent has been the most fun I've had in a long while."
First world problems, that. "Yet here you are, on the road again."
"Indeed! I have heard of a fort of mighty warriors in need of entertainment! I am ready to oblige."
"It's not just that," she said, looking left and right, before her voice dropped to a whisper. "There's an upcoming tournament."
He raised an eyebrow at that. "Do tell."
It had been in the works ever since Kirito decided to take on the task of making Fort Eternal Vigilance profitable. The trip to Mankhlar wasn't just buying supplies, it was updating the merchant's network of friends and allies. He had met up with the Mankhlar Council, the Aincradian Mercantile Guild, and various other franchises. Only the Kirito Corpration and Watch staff were in the know of the upcoming tournament, and they would have to break the news soon.
She also had met up with her info broker network and she had been missing a lot being holed up in the middle of the wilderness. Kirito's gambit had sent the Aincrad Liberation Force, Titan's Hand, Shouidan Gun, and Ridwan's Raiders into the hills of the 12th Floor, chasing the hoard of a red dragon. That was almost two months ago, and the four guilds had slew the beast and claimed its treasure but there wasn't much more info about it.
"It's going to be great!" she said. "Food, the finest fighters in the realm. We'll even have some important people as special guests, and a special event requires the castle's specialest bard."
"If you're trying to butter me up for your plan, little Mouse, then it has worked. Let us be on our way."
They were halfway on the road back to the fort when Argo suddenly asked, "Bard, a question. Private."
Sa'id let out a jaunty tune from his lute. "Have you fertilised your relationships?"
"Last time I used that term it backfired spectacularly."
"You're not supposed to say it to your lover, girl. It's a turn of phrase."
Argo let him know of what happened. Asuna refusing to spit out her feelings, Sinon's risque escapade in his office, and the recent kidnapping attempt. The su'luk pulled at his beard thoughtfully at this.
"I thought I could spend the trip to get him on a date, but we had so little time together. Most of my speciality revolves around me travelling out of the fort, which means I have the least time with him! It's infuriating." She sighed. "I miss the days when we would just go out, plunder a dungeon, and beat up some monsters."
"I didn't take the merchant to be a fighter. If anything, that boy seems to have never wielded a sword in his entire life."
Argo wanted to argue but decided against it. She had yet to figure out why the guy who took on entire guilds by himself for fun had turned in his sword for robes, but she had a good guess.
"I don't know what to do."
"Ah, but what you're doing is already working!"
Her face scrunched at that. "Explain."
"You've been an excellent business partner."
She scoffed. "A business partner!"
"Ah, perhaps. But you are friends? Even if this doesn't work, it means that you've gone through so much." He let out another melodic tune. "Little Mouse, I do not know if you ever will be romantically involved, but if it doesn't happen, friendship can be as sweet as mangoes, yes?'
She thought about it. Ever since their little talk by the end of the Mankhlar business, Kirito had been happier. It was hard work, and he would sometimes fall asleep at his desk, much to everyone's worries. But the Kazuto she knew put on a brave face and held the weight of everyone on his shoulders. He had been doing that for years. That's why she lov -
Kazuto, you asshole. You've made me fall for you again.
"Thanks, Sa'id. I appreciate it."
He bowed in his saddle. "I live to serve."
"Anyway, there's a bunch of families that needs to be convinced and -"
"I've already written an entire song about the Eternal Watch in my head."
"That was quick work."
"You asked for the best, you get the best."
It was a simple affair; a makeshift stage, not enough tables for everyone requiring people to sit on picnic blankets, all within the courtyard of the fort. Kirito may have been CEO, but she knew how to organise too. Braziers were lit, food and beer procured, and patrols set up.
The bard was instantly beloved, impressing the Old Settlers and New Families alike, and for the first time, locals and foreigners alike put aside their differences to enjoy each other's company. Even the grumpy yeoman and ancient grandma cracked a smile at the festivities.
Argo merely sat back and enjoyed the party. Brickwall's troops dutifully manned the forts for this occasion.
"Quite a few … liberties taken with the history of our order," said Tupi over a mug of beer. "What's this about the 13th commander, taking on an ice demon for a wife? That never happened!"
Kirito put a finger to his lips. "Now, now, steward. Wouldn't want to be a spoilsport?"
Sa'id finished his song to thunderous applause. "Thank you! Thank you! You are a most gracious audience, and the lord of this fort is the most gracious of hosts!"
He pointed towards where they sat and Kirito waved back. Tupi repeated the same gesture awkwardly. Both of them walked from their table to ascend the stage.
"Thank you, thank you. None of this could have happened without the Watch. In fact, none of this would have happened without the hard work of the families of the fort, and our new settler friends, working together for a better tomorrow. As are the soldiers of the Eternal Watch, those warriors currently fending off the Rumine to keep our families safe. We shall pray for their safety and victory!"
Kirito gestured to a group of three. "And as many thanks to the new sheriffs of the fort, Hugo, Chitra and Shaste - who, in the span of one day, settled a business dispute, saved a woman from starvation and saved a family of farmers from cruel raiders!"
The trio stood up to more cheers, brass badges in the shape of an owl's head on their beasts. Hugo bowed chivalrously, Chitra posed as if she won a competition, and Shaste picked his ear.
"And we've an important announcement: in a few weeks' time, by the beginning of the harvesting season, we shall host a great tournament!"
The crowd went quiet at the news.
"We will have warriors from across the castle. Fine food and finer drink! Tell your friends and families from afar, invite whoever you want. For three days, we'll have competitions of arms and martial prowess; of speed and accuracy. We will have jousting," the Granumites cheered at this, "and games of stickball," the Free Tribals roared at this. The entire fort seemed to vibrate with sheer excitement, not even its newly constructed stone walls could contain the energy.
"Any who wishes to join are welcome, but be forewarned! The tournament is not for the faint of heart! And, some of you may ask, what will be the main prize?"
At this, Lisbeth came up from behind the stage with her apprentice, Nezha, if Argo recalled correctly. It was strange seeing the smith out of her apron; Argo hadn't seen her in a while with how busy the both of them were.
They brought forward a cart, on it a standing cuboid shape covered in cloth. At Kirito's nod, Lisbeth grabbed one end of the cloth and proclaimed, "Behold, the main prize of the tournament!"
The cloth was taken off and the crowd gasped. Within the glass case was a magnificent shining sword. It stood on a beautiful brass stand, rippling like a desert mirage upon the bright stage. The quilons were twisted like tree branches. The leather of the grip was bright red, matching its scabbard, also similarly decorated like bark, with a brass tip shaped like a trout head. The pommel itself was in the shape of an owl, the symbolism was not lost on any of them. Even Argo found her mouth agape, even as someone famously uncaring for swords.
It was gorgeous - the pride of any lord in the castle. Why, even Aincradius himself would wear it into battle.
"This is the result of the hard work of Lisbeth, and her apprentice, Nezha: «Wicasa's Legacy». Let's give it to our master artisans for such a fine blade!" the merchant said with grandiose.
The fort erupted and Argo was deafened by it. She saw Lisbeth beaming with pride, of Tupi tearing up; Rays besides her clapping with the rest. Even Dupont and Ohkwáho seemed to be having a good time.
Then there was Kirito, standing on stage in his black silks, handsome and regal, like a great lord. She hadn't seen Kazuto happy since he won that kendo championship years ago, displaying his trophy for all to see. His sister, barely out of kindergarten, hanging on his leg. His parents, proud of their son.
It was at that moment, she stopped caring about seeing his old self. Even if he never held a sword in his life ever again, that was fine with her.
Finally, the cheers died down and the bard took the stage once again to sing Bloody Red Olga. Kirito and Tupi returned to their seats as Lisbeth and Nezha returned to theirs. Brickwall and the Watchmen stood nearby in full armour, just in case anyone had any funny ideas.
"Nice speech, Kii-bou. Didn't know you had it in' ya."
He shrugged but Argo could tell he was immensely proud of himself. "Rays helped me write it. Apparently he was a lawyer in his old life."
"I swapped my quill for a sword," said the ghazi. "It was the best decision I've ever made."
That sounded familiar to her. Kirito yawned. "That took a lot out of me. Mind if I leave the fort to your care?"
"We'll handle it just fine, Kirito. Have a good night's rest. I hope that new room of yours is comfortable," said the steward.
He was referring to Kirito's new accommodations by the fort's store room. Asuna had him change bedrooms due to recent events. But before that, he bent down and whispered in her ear.
"I haven't forgotten about that reward. See me there in twenty minutes," he said before fading away.
The info broker gulped and downed the rest of her drink.
Sa'id got everyone's attention. "And for my next song, a love song! For the young couples in the audience. I call it, the Mouse and the Merchant."
A pit grew in Argo's stomach. That son of a bitch.
The bard strummed his lute and began to sing. It was, like all of Sa'id's songs, very good, and very romantic.
Argo only stayed a few minutes before leaving, hiding her face in her hood.
A while later, Argo knocked on his door. "The door's unlocked!" Kirito called out.
She entered. It was bare, nowhere near as nice as his office. There was a wardrobe in one corner, his ever massive chest of clothes next to it, as well as a desk, a mirror, and his own wash basin and chamber pot (useless, because no one ever needed to go in SAO). A few candles lit the room, as the only window were a set of iron bars at the top of the room. It was more a prison cell than a room, but it was well protected.
And on the bed was Kirito in a sleeping robe. He had cleaned up, his long hair shining in the candlelight. Even from here, she could smell the shampoo on him.
Now, alone and nervous, Argo wasn't sure what to say.
"Nice place ya got here," she said. "Very homey." Smooth, Rat. Very smooth.
He didn't look up from the tablet he was studying. "We've probably spent some 5,500 Col on food and drink, which may seem a lot, but most of the food was from the stores that were already close to going bad, and the beer I bought from the Bronze Axe at a bulk discount. If my calculations are correct, with news of an upcoming tournament, we spent what was basically chump change on a very effective advertisement."
His face was so smooth, his eyes so deep. "That's … good?"
"No, not good. Great! And the contract with Ser Reginald means part of the Watch's wages is paid by him, in event of battle. So yes, we are less secure, but in return, we're making more money. Well, depending on Sa'id's bill, but I don't think that would be an issue."
She didn't want to talk about the bard or business. It was the last thing on her mind. "He'd probably do it for free, he's not one for money that much."
"Lucky him, if only I had that freedom." He flung the tablet on the end table and laid on his bed. "This has been a tiring day."
She sat on the edge of the bed. "That's everyday."
"Yeah, it is."
Gingerly, she brushed his thigh. "So … about that reward?"
"Ah yes, how could I forget? Close your eyes."
She did so. She heard the ruffling of clothes. Her palms itched, her hard work will finally pay off.
Kirito was behind her, hands on her shoulders. "Open them."
The bedroom returned to her sight as she saw a piece of paper on the bed. "What?"
"Come on, read it!" he said excitedly.
She picked up the parchment and read it: Congratulations! You are now a proud owner of 5% of the shares of the Kirito Corporation's stock!
Argo blinked. "What."
"It's your reward! Told you I'm a man of my word."
"Butbutbutbutbut …" she wanted to see some ass! "You said you'd wear shorts! I did the thing you asked me!"
"Ah, ah. I said I'd give you a reward, I didn't say anything about wearing shorts." He can't do this to me!
No, no. This was fine! Friendship with Kirito is good! Sure, maybe he didn't have a thing for her anymore, because that blue haired harlot got her talons into him, or how discount Saber seduced him with her cookingt. But this was fine! Being Kazuto's friend was completely, 100% okay! They dated, they broke up, no need to retread old ground. Friendship can be as sweet as mangoes, just like the bard said.
She felt Kirito's arms wrapping around her shoulders in a hug. "And I couldn't have asked for a better business partner!"
Business partner. Business partner. "BUSINESS PARTNER?!"
Argo grabbed him by the arms and swung her hips. The merchant did an impressive flip over her and slammed onto bed, the mattress shaking from the sudden impact.
"Dammit, Kazuto! I wanted to see some ass! You don't get a girl all hot and bothered for shits and giggles! And what do I get for this?! A stupid piece of … pa … per …"
Kirito sighed. "Damn, Akiko. You always had a temper."
The first thing she realised was that Kazuto had big baby brown eyes. It was his most effective weapon utilised against teachers, friends, family, and even sparring opponents. The scrawny baby faced teenager had utilised his slight build and girlish look to make others underestimate him, something he was very good at and was particularly effective on her.
Secondly, he had a change of wardrobe: his torso was bare, smooth and soft. He once had an athlete's physique, lithe and fit, but now thinking about it, she much preferred how he currently looked like. The only part of him that had even the slightest definition of muscle were his thighs, which those buckskin shorts advertised very, very well, even in the candlelight.
But he didn't stop there. He wore thigh high socks, which accentuated his thighs even more. With his hair sprawled on the bed, he looked positively gorgeous.
He winked. "Oh, see something you like?"
"I-I-I-I-"
"Please, Akiko. Do you think I'm stupid?" He sat up on bed. "An increase in stocks wouldn't be enough to appease you, I know that. Don't throw it away by the way, that's real."
Her hands clenched and unclenched. She could smell the shampoo on him. So soft.
"And because you've been such a good girl," he said the last words huskily. "I will endeavour to give you your reward."
Kazuto reclined on his side, propping his head with a forearm. With his hand on his amazingly wide hips, he turned ever so slightly, and gave himself a very hearty slap on the ass.
At this point, Argo was drooling.
"Can we … if you don't mind …"
Kazuto sighed before spreading his arms. "Come here then - ah!"
Argo thick arms wrapped around his waist and lifted him into the air. She buried herself in Kirito's chest, smooth to her face, inhaling his lemony scent. "Hehehe, soft!"
"Okay, you've gotten your reward, now you can - eep!"
Rough hands squeezed his ass and Argo kneaded them like a baker with dough. It was neither too hard nor too soft, a balanced ratio. In the old days, he was an avid gym goer but now he rarely exercise. Or that's what she thought. "Been doing squats as of late?"
Words struggled to escape his lips with the strong girl holding him in her steely grip. "Been training to raise my Attributes ever - ah - the kidnapping. Asuna's orders."
A pang of jealousy shot through her. "You've been training with Asuna? Instead of me?" They'd always train together!
Before Kirito could protest, her grip tightened. The merchant was an average height of 5'7 to Argo's 5'0, which meant his crotch, in an already tight pair of shorts, was rubbing vigorously against her bulletproof abs. Her fingers raked both his behind and back, and Kazuto felt a shiver of delight arcing through him.
"You don't get to prance around, with your long hair, wide hips, and not expect for one of us to try to get into your pants!" Already, her fingers were slipping into the waistband of his shorts. "And those socks! I swear, you're acting this slutty on purpose!"
"Ah, Sinon said something similar."
Air escaped his lungs as he was slammed back onto the bed. The mattress creaked, the frame shook, as Argo climbed atop on him. Her tree trunk thighs which were clad in an already tight pair of pants were tearing at the seams as she straddled him, his crotch rubbing against hers. Gone was her vest and tunic, leaving herself bare as he. The difference between his smooth, soft self was stark to her own muscular torso, as if chiselled from granite. The night air was cool on her skin.
"No more talking about other girls," she said with what she thought was authority, but to Kazuto, came out more like a whine.
"Have I ever told you I like small breasts?"
Here she was, in the dominant position, and her ex (was Kazuto her ex at this point? It was so confusing!) was complimenting her tits.
"S-shut up!" Damn him! She was Argo the Rat, best damn info broker in this accursed game and she would not let him toy her like that. "We-we're going to bang, and you are going to like it!"
"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"
Not knowing how to answer, she grabbed his wrists and leaned down for a kiss.
It was heavenly, familiar and foreign at the same time, and he tasted like wine. He struggled under her at first but relented, falling back into their familiar roles. Despite their positions in the hierarchy of high school social life, she the martial arts weirdo, and he the school's kendo champion, they fell for each other completely. If Argo felt warm before, she was positively on fire now.
They parted, a trail of saliva bridging their mouths. They were both breathing heavily and the couple were trembling with desire.
Kazuto licked his lips. "You still got it, a bit rusty though."
"What did I say about - " she shut her mouth. "So, is this … are we together again?"
"Let's not think about that tonight." His fingers trailed her stomach, feeling each ridge of her abdominals. "I've missed you."
"Me too. And I guess someone else misses me too," she said, as she felt something poking her bottom. "Do you want to -"
"Akiko, shut the hell up and take off my shorts."
In that instant, the door slammed open as a heavily armoured woman entered, helmet under an armpit. "Mission accomplished! We've beat back those raiders with time to spare for … the tour… na …"
Asuna dropped her helmet at the sight before: a very naked Argo riding an equally naked Kirito. They both turned to her, wide eyed. The swordswoman could not believe the same fucking thing was happening again.
After a long moment of silence, Kirito said, "So, how did the fight go, captain?"
A familiar blue haired girl peeked over Asuna's shoulder, her equally blue eyes widening. "Yeah, you go, girl!"
"Thanks, Sinon-chan," said Argo impishly.
Is it cheap to repeat the same thing? Yes. Is it funny? I think so. Is Asuna suffering? Absolutely. Don't worry, Asuna, you'll get to dom Kirito some other time.
The chapter was supposed to go up about the 20th or so, but after a check with good buddy and fellow connoisseur 7th Skydark, I decided to take my time with it. I try to get a chapter of Merchant Prince and Sinonon once a month (so two chapters per month), but I decided that the old version was simply not good. Okay it wasn't just not good, it was pretty bad. Had to cut out 5000 words of dungeon diving for it.
I think this works better, so let me know if it was worth the wait. Jumped from 7k to almost 11k. Sometimes it's like that. I'm never writing this many words for a chapter again.
Next up, Sinonon. Something different, or more of the same. We'll see! Until next time.