It was the dreams that spurred her into action.
Originally, they'd begun the night after she first met the human Swordmaster in black. Dreams of the battle with a Forest Elf, a battle he and his elegant fencer companion had helped her to win—except in the dreams, his companion was not a lady fencer, but a small group of other young swordsmen. Their faces changed, depending on the dream, as did his garb.
One thing that was constant between them was that in the end, she always died, as he looked on sadly.
That was part of what had driven her to join his small party, following even when his aims had little to do with her own people. She wanted to know why he affected her so deeply, and what it meant that she dreamt so consistently of fighting alongside him, only to die in his defense. It meant something, she was sure of it; he'd never explained, but she could see he recognized something from her descriptions of the dreams. They were more than just her mind playing on her own fears.
Across seven floors, though, she'd never found an answer, and when they'd finally parted ways on the Ninth Floor, the dreams had stopped.
For months after, she'd patrolled her people's capital, relieved by the end of the war yet still feeling somehow unfulfilled. In time of peace, her own homeland held none of the excitement of traveling with him, with the black-clad swordsman and the fencer she'd come to regard like her own sister. She was restless, unused to having no battles to fight.
More than that, she felt alone. Somehow, the other Dark Elves in the capital felt flat, utterly lacking the rich warmth, humor, and shared experience that the two humans with whom she'd once traveled possessed. Maybe it was just that, in the heavily-guarded city, none of them had ever seen battle themselves. Maybe it was more than that. She wasn't sure.
She wasn't sure what to do about it, either. There simply were no more battles for her to fight, as a Pagoda Knight. With the coming of peace, it seemed as if the entire Kingdom had lost something.
Then the dreams came again, and she realized what it was she really wanted to do. There were no battles the Kingdom needed her to fight, but there was still something for her personally: a quest, as her human friends might have put it. Dreams she still wanted to know the meaning of, and friends she wanted to help.
She'd seldom felt so relieved as when Her Majesty granted her request to take a leave of absence, and seek out the two humans who had once done so much for the Kingdom of Lyusula. She had taken only enough time to gather her few belongings and inform the commander of her Knighthood, then set off at once for the Pillars of the Heavens that the humans used, which would take her higher in the Steel Castle than her people's trees.
She'd told her Queen the truth: that she felt a debt of honor to the Swordmasters who helped save their Kingdom. More than that, though, she just wanted to be with her friends.
Kizmel wanted to know what the meaning behind the dreams was. What, exactly, the connection was between her and the Swordmaster Kirito, who threw himself into the conquest of Aincrad with greater fervor than any Elf or even human than she'd ever known.
Why did she dream about him, so soon after they met and so often? Why did he look so sad? And why, when she spoke of it, did he seem to be hiding something?
Monday, July 10th, 2023
Kizmel had learned a great deal about the Swordmasters, the immensely powerful warriors Aincrad's bastions of human society had summoned to protect them, since first meeting Kirito and Asuna. More than she had about the people the Swordmasters championed, certainly.
Her friends had done much to educate her on the strange dialect most of them borrowed heavily from, though even they often seemed baffled by the speech used by Guildmaster Kibaou—Kirito had once muttered something odd about "Kansai-ben", but had been too busy to elaborate at the time—and apparently couldn't find equivalents of some terms at all. That had gone far to smooth interaction with the other "clearers", the group of Swordmasters most active in conquering Aincrad.
Just as much as she'd learned, though, Kizmel still found strange. Such as why, exactly, they had to be so cautious, almost furtive, in their expedition to the Eleventh Floor.
As they made their way down the hallway of a dungeon in an out-of-the-way corner of that floor, hunting Giant Bats, Kizmel gave voice to her confusion. "Tell me, Kirito. I understand that this ruin has more of the monsters needed for tempering your sword—but why is it so important that we be so discreet? I've not known you to be concerned about others being angry over something as simple as improving your own weapons or armor."
Kirito was silent for a long moment, peering down the hall with a glow in his eyes she'd learned to associate with the heightened senses Swordmasters could invoke. The pause, she suspected, was as much from concentration on his task as it was from trying to decide how to explain yet another human oddity.
"More bats, about twenty meters away," he announced quietly. "As for why I want to be sneaky… Um. Well, it comes down to this: you know how all Swordmasters arrived in Aincrad with the same strength and equipment, right?"
"So I understand," she confirmed, taking a position on his left flank as they moved toward their hopefully unsuspecting targets. "The charm that summoned you gave you all equal power and armament on arrival, right?" She hadn't met any Swordmasters until they'd been in Aincrad for over a month, but she knew the stories fairly well. Better, once she'd had incentive to learn more.
"That's close enough… Well, that meant we all began this quest on an equal footing. Theoretically. Practically speaking, some of us took to fighting better than others, and some of us were… let's say better informed on how to find the things we needed to become stronger." They reached the doorway leading to where Kirito had sensed the Giant Bats. "That led to a gap between groups of Swordmasters. Some of us are simply stronger and more capable than others—and people being people, that got a lot of resentment brewing."
They positioned themselves to either side of the door, weapons ready. "This is related to why Guildmaster Kibaou hates you?"
"There's more than a few people who think people like me got an unfair advantage," Kirito acknowledged. "Enough of one that it looked like there might be violence, for a while. …Hang on, here they come."
They'd been very quiet, after reaching the threshold, but Giant Bats had excellent hearing. From Kizmel's experience, just the sound of two swordsmen breathing would be enough to get their attention, when close enough, and the sudden eruption of enraged squeaking proved her right.
Unluckily for the Giant Bats, they were up against two warriors who had recently descended from killing the Pillar Guardian blocking the way to the Thirtieth Floor. Kizmel launched herself forward, her Corrupted Sword of the Order trailing crimson light in the simple but effective Reaver technique; to her right, Kirito was pulled along by the azure glow of a Sonic Leap.
Two blades that could and did threaten Pillar Guardians from much higher up the Steel Castle tore the bats to pieces, shattering them into glimmering triangles like all the dead of Aincrad.
Kizmel exchanged a human "high-five" with Kirito, then watched with some envy as he examined the plunder from their fallen foes through his Mystic Scribing. She knew he had been envious, a time or two in the past, of the items she'd been gifted as a Pagoda Knight, but in her view that all-purpose human charm was much more impressive.
She'd learned to interact with it herself, when conjured by a human. She still hoped to somehow obtain full use, someday.
"Well, there's the Giant Bat Fangs I needed," Kirito announced, waving the immaterial writing away. "I think that just leaves the Bony Rat Exoskeletons you need for your chestplate, and then we're done here."
"I'm glad. It is getting rather late." No doubt his Mystic Scribing gave him a more accurate estimate, but her own thought was that it was past nine at night. With how remote these ruins were, it would nearing midnight before they returned to town. "You were saying, before the fight?"
"Hm? Oh, right." Kirito grimaced, shrugging shoulders encased in black leather in a way that seemed to deliberately emphasize the coat. "It never actually came to blows, but it was a close one, right after we defeated Illfang. I managed to head things off, but… I kind of painted a target on my back in the process."
That much didn't surprise Kizmel. More than once, she'd seen him defuse a conflict between others by deliberately drawing ire onto himself. Once, if she and Asuna hadn't been there, she wasn't sure he wouldn't have been hurt. For someone who always seemed to be alone, Kirito came across as nearly incapable of not helping others, even at great risk to himself.
"I take it Kibaou was there, then," she said, putting his words together with what she'd seen of Kibaou's behavior toward him in the past.
"When I first got labeled 'Beater'?" Kirito nodded. "Yeah. Kibaou admired the raid leader, Diavel, a lot, and blamed me for Diavel's death. Not that he was alone in that, but Lind, at least, seemed to get over it… Well, even Kibaou had mellowed some by the time the Twenty-Fifth Floor boss finally drove him off the frontlines." Another shrug, and he turned to head back into the hall. "Anyway, what it boils down to is that there's still a wide gap between clearers and non-clearers, and there's still finite resources for everybody to use."
The puzzle started to come together in Kizmel's mind. "Lesser warriors are farther behind, still using lesser equipment and hunting on lower floors…"
"And they don't exactly like it when people who 'don't need it' poach their hunting grounds." He nodded again, giving her a smile that looked strangely surprised by—proud of?—her insight. "Now, what we're doing is pretty harmless, really. The gear that uses these items can't even be used by the kind of Swordmasters that are still on this floor. But they won't have any reason to believe that that's all we're after, so things could get a bit sticky if anybody catches us here."
Now it all made sense. Kizmel still had some questions, especially as to why the Swordmasters seemed to be such a divided group in the first place—weren't they all supposed to be fighting toward the same goal, after all?—but within the framework of such divisions, Kirito's concerns were perfectly understandable. Humans and Dark Elves were very different people, but plain envy was a sin Elves were just as prone to.
She did notice, though, that he left unsaid that he was probably in more danger than almost anyone else. Kizmel suspected the initial stigma of being the "Beater"—whatever that meant—had worn off by now, if only because of how few people had been present for the incident, and because of how solitary Kirito's own habits were; but she could read between the lines well enough to know there was something about him that would label him as a strong Swordmaster on sight.
Herself. As far as she was aware, no other elf, be they Dark, Forest, or Fallen, had entered such a close partnership with any human. Even those who had not seen the Swordmaster Diavel die, had never laid eyes on Kirito himself before, would recognize their partnership as unusual the moment they saw her ears.
"I see," Kizmel said finally, accompanying her friend back into the dungeon's labyrinthine corridors. "Then by all means, let us be quick, and quiet. Of course," she reminded him with a reassuring smile, "if need be, we can hide quite well."
Kirito looked at her in momentary confusion, blinked, and then gave her a relieved grin in return. "Right, the cloak. How could I forget? Well, then, as long as we don't get into a fight when others are nearby, we should be fine."
A sound plan, and one that kept both their spirits' up as they resumed their hunt for Bony Rats. With Kirito's uncanny ability to sense anything that wasn't outright invisible, and a few things that were, they were unlikely to be caught unawares. They'd have plenty of time to conceal themselves, if other Swordmasters wandered by.
Of course, neither of them counted on hearing an entire party of them yelling for help.
A pack of goblins. That was the first thing Kizmel noticed, as she and her partner rushed toward the sounds of battle. Though quite weak, especially compared to her own strength, they tended to travel in greater numbers than other foes of this dungeon, and it appeared someone had managed to attract more than one group of them.
She and Kirito could easily have dispatched even that number of them, or at the least cut a path of retreat. To a group of Swordmasters of the skill level that would normally be fighting on this floor, though, it was very possibly a lethal situation.
Desire to avoid trouble or no, she wasn't surprised when Kirito rushed right into the rear of the goblin pack. "Hang on!" he called out to the besieged party, and launched a Horizontal Square at the first goblin to get within reach. A slash from right to left caught it in the back, then his sword reversed, with the second blow leading right into a spinning third, culminating in a final forehand slice.
Flawless, as always. Far more than was necessary to kill one goblin, really—and it left him overextended for a moment, delayed by the backlash of his own technique.
They both knew exactly what to do in that kind of situation, though. By the time Kirito called "Switch!", Kizmel had already leveled the point of her saber at a knot of goblins trying to gut a black-haired girl with a spear, who flailed ineffectually in defense.
Kizmel didn't slow as she approached. Instead, as white light began to gather around the tip of her blade, she accelerated, feet blurring as she pushed her body to its limits. Letting out a shout, when the light reached its brightest she surrendered herself to the Sword Skill's pull.
Propelled by the power of the charm, her feet left the floor entirely, and she crashed right through three of the goblins, the shockwave of her passage scattering two more to either side. Strewn about like they'd been caught in a storm, the malformed mockeries of civilized kind shattered into glittering azure shards.
She made a mental note to thank Viscount Yofilis for teaching her that technique, when she could. Mastering it had been difficult, and its use was somewhat situational, but it had served her very well indeed.
"Stay back!" Kirito instructed the apparent leader of the group, spinning to face another of the goblins. "We'll handle this!"
The staff-wielding young man nodded jerkily, eyes wide. "Thank you! We'll be counting on you, then!"
"Don't worry," Kizmel told the girl she'd rescued, recovering from the position her Flashing Penetrator had left her in. "You're safe now."
She didn't wait for a reply, instead tearing into another goblin with a Reaver, taking the weak monster's head off with a single blow. In the recoil from the strike, before she could attack again, one more roared at her and tried to lop off her sword arm, but her bracer held off the blow easily enough; a mace wielder from the party they were rescuing then ventured a quavering yell and bashed the back of its skull.
Not enough to kill the abomination, but easily enough to knock it off-balance long enough for Kizmel to recover hers and skewer it.
Against a party of appropriate strength to the Eleventh Floor, a dozen or so goblins was a terrifying threat. To a pair of clearers, who routinely scouted areas guilds would normally take entire parties into, they were more of a warmup, a welcome change from the monotony of hunting individual monsters—Swordmasters called them mobs, Kizmel reminded herself—for hides and teeth.
With the occasional aid from the rescued party, Kirito and Kizmel made quick work of the goblins. A short period of bright flashes and shattering noises, and the only occupants of the hallway were five humans and one Dark Elf.
After cutting down the last of the pack, Kirito swept his gaze up and down the corridor, eyes glowing a vivid green. A few moments of intense concentration later, he nodded sharply and relaxed his stance. He swept his sword up to his left, back down to his right, and then sheathed it, a pattern Kizmel had frequently noticed him following after a fight but had never gotten around to asking about.
"That's all of them in this part of the dungeon," he announced, turning back to the group they'd just saved. "Still, you should probably head back to town, for now…" Kirito trailed off, noticing they didn't seem to be listening. "Um. Guys?"
The leader shook himself, but didn't quite take his eyes off what had distracted him. "Oh! Ah, thank you, er…?"
"I'm Kirito," her partner said, bowing. "This is my partner, Kizmel."
Kizmel bowed in turn, then saluted in the manner of her own people. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance," she said. "I hope we were in time?"
That was something she was concerned about. In addition to the staff-wielding leader, the lancer girl, and the youth with the mace, there was another spearman and a boy with a dagger—five Swordmasters, and one short of the maximum that could be bound in a party by Mystic Scribing. Kizmel hoped they were simply a party of five to begin with, and that she and Kirito hadn't arrived too late for someone.
"Er, yes, Kizmel-san," the lancer girl said, bowing deeply. "Thank you very much for your help!"
Kizmel relaxed. All five of them were clearly hurt—Kirito, she knew, would be able to tell more accurately, with his full use of Mystic Scribing—but among the Swordmasters, any wound that wasn't fatal could always be mended well enough.
If they'd suffered no casualties, then she could guess easily enough why they seemed to startled. Their leader's stare was proof enough.
"Thank you for the help, Kirito-san," that leader said again. "But, ah, if you don't mind me asking… isn't that an NPC? How…?"
NPC. Kizmel had heard Swordmasters use the term many times, in the months she'd traveled among them. It didn't seem to refer strictly to non-humans, as she'd known Kirito and Asuna to use it in reference to humans who weren't Swordmasters; conversely, they'd seemed quite uncertain whether the expression applied to her.
She'd asked, once, what exactly it meant, but after some thought Kirito had shrugged helplessly and said he couldn't think of a precise translation. In general, it seemed to refer to any denizen of Aincrad that was neither Swordmaster nor hostile; the fact that she seemed an exception to that made defining it any more clearly apparently difficult.
From the look of things, Kirito was just as much at a loss to explain the distinction to these Swordmasters as to Kizmel. "That's… kind of a long story," he said finally, scratching the back of his head. "For now, just take my word for it that Kizmel's not much different from any player, in a fight or out."
Player. Another word they can't seem to translate for me. Certainly Kizmel knew one definition of the word, but it didn't seem to make sense in the context Swordmasters used it. Kirito had told her, once, that he hoped to be able explain it someday, but for now she lacked the proper frame of reference. Something to do with the world they were called from, I suppose…
For now, Kizmel filed the thought away, and stepped into the conversational gap the confusion had left. "Perhaps we can talk more about it in town," she suggested. "For now, may we escort you out of the dungeon?" She shot a quick glance at Kirito, but as she expected, he only nodded in agreement. For all his attempts at staying out of the spotlight, he never could seem to turn down a chance to help someone.
The party conversed among themselves only briefly, before their leader turned back and bowed. "We'll be in your care then, thank you. I was starting to become concerned about our supply of potions." He hesitated. "Could we talk more in town? At the least, we should treat you two, in thanks for your help."
It was Kirito's turn to hesitate, and Kizmel's to nod encouragingly. She hadn't dealt much with Swordmasters outside of battle, other than the two friends who had helped her so much, and she was genuinely interested in meeting more of them. For one thing, she was beginning to notice something curious about the summoned warriors in general…
"Okay, then," Kirito said, offering a smile that might have been just a little nervous. "But first, let's get out of this place. Kizmel and I were just finished here, anyway, so we can head straight for the exit."
"Cheers!"
Taft was the "central" town of the Eleventh Floor, but for all that it was fairly small. It was also fairly sparsely populated by Swordmasters, the frontlines having long since been pushed far above; finding a tavern that was unoccupied save by local townspeople hadn't been difficult.
That left plenty of room for Kirito, Kizmel, and the party they'd rescued to gather around a table and finish proper introductions. That had led into a toast, and if the drinks available at this human tavern weren't up to the standards of elven Moontear wine, it was still more than acceptable to Kizmel's tastes.
Even if she did find it a little strange to be toasted for her efforts. She was used to dealing with the clearers, among whom a rescue such as the one she and Kirito had pulled off would've been a reason for a quick thanks and little more; on the frontlines, after all, any such debt was likely enough to be repaid in kind soon enough.
These weren't clearers, though, she reminded herself as she sipped her wine. If she'd understood Kirito's explanation well enough, they were more akin to a training cadre, apprentice knights holding rear guard positions.
"Thanks again for your help," the party's leader, Keita, said, lifting his flagon in salute. "Honestly, we bit off a bit more than we could chew there. I was starting to think we weren't going to make it, and then you two showed up." He smiled, looking a bit sheepish. "Truth is, our party arrangement isn't the best. We're working on it, but…"
Privately, Kizmel agreed with the assessment. Humans in general and Swordmasters in particular used very different deployments than her own people did, but she'd had months to get a feel for their tactics. The Moonlit Black Cats, as they called themselves, had an eclectic, inefficient collection of styles, being led by a staff-wielder, backed by the lancers Sasamaru and Sachi, macer Tetsuo, and knife-wielding self-proclaimed thief Ducker.
None of them had bad setups individually, from what Kizmel had seen, but only Tetsuo was really suited to take the fight directly to the enemy.
"If you don't mind me saying," she began diffidently, "you might be better off with at least one more close-in fighter. Someone with a sword and shield, perhaps? I mean no offense to Ducker, but his style is better suited to flanking attacks."
"Thieves are kind of supposed to take the enemy by surprise, yeah," Ducker agreed, scratching the back of his head ruefully. "We're not supposed to get in the thick of it."
"I don't disagree," Keita said, nodding. He gave her a strange look for a moment, the same Kizmel had gotten used to seeing on clearers before she became well-known on the frontlines, but continued, "Actually, I was thinking that we should switch Sachi here to exactly that, but… She's kind of nervous about trying something new."
"Can you blame me?" Sachi said plaintively. "It's scary enough just holding monsters off with a spear. If I get close enough to use a sword, when I haven't even used one before, who knows what would happen!"
A black-haired girl that Kizmel judged to be a little older than Kirito—always harder to judge with humans, with their shorter lives but quick climb to maturity, compared to Dark Elves—Sachi seemed the most aware of the Black Cats, other than Keita. The others didn't look very subdued by their near-death experience, while those two appeared acutely aware of the close call.
"It can be unnerving at first," Kirito said to Sachi, nodding. "But once you get used to it, it's not so bad. Especially if you've got a full party with you."
"You guys seem to manage with just two," Sasamaru pointed out. "Can't be that bad."
"Says the guy who hasn't volunteered to swap out his spear for a sword," Tetsuo shot back, rolling his eyes. "I really could use a little help up front, y'know."
"Some people take to it more easily than others, Sasamaru," Keita told him. "Still…" He turned his attention back to Kirito, started to speak again, then hesitated. "Ah, Kirito-san… I know it's rude to ask, but I can tell you must be stronger than we are. I mean, you've got an NPC with you and all…"
"You don't need to be so formal with me, Keita," Kirito said, giving a slightly bitter smile. "I don't think you'd be feeling so polite if you knew more."
He paused there, looking at Kizmel. After a moment, she understood, and once more gave him an encouraging nod. At this point, there seemed little point in concealing anything. If the Black Cats knew the truth of Kirito's strength, they would either hate him, or not; but it wasn't something that could be hidden forever. Lying about it wouldn't do anyone any good at all.
Kirito grimaced, but looked back to Keita. "The truth is, I'm a bit over Level Forty," he said, describing his own strength according to the odd numerical shorthand Swordmasters used for such things. "Kizmel and I were only here because we needed a few items to enhance our equipment; after that we were going to go right back to the higher floors. You may not believe me, but we really weren't going to try and edge out any of the lower-level players."
He tensed visibly when he was finished, waiting for their reactions. And, as he'd suggested to Kizmel not three hours earlier, the air in the tavern did seem to get colder as his words sank in. Like he'd said, he could claim not to be competing for resources, but actions spoke louder than words, and preconceptions were louder still.
Sachi doesn't look bothered, Kizmel thought, glancing at the anxious girl. At least, not by Kirito. But Tetsuo and Sasamaru—
Just as Keita started to open his mouth, a conflicted expression on his face, Ducker suddenly snapped his fingers. "Wait a second!" he said, cutting through the tension. "Black coat, sword and no shield, teamed up with a Dark Elf… Are you the Black Swordsman?"
Tension vanished, replaced by surprise and no little confusion. Surprise from the Black Cats, who collectively turned to look at Ducker, confusion from Kirito and Kizmel both, who glanced at each other and then joined in the group stare. "Er… 'Black Swordsman'?" Kirito repeated.
"Yeah! Really strong fighter, usually seen just with an NPC outside of boss raids. Is that you?"
"That would seem to be us, yes," Kizmel ventured uncertainly. "At least, I've not seen any Swordmasters working with, ah, 'NPCs' since the war between my people and the Forest Elves ended. Were there any on the frontlines, I'm sure we would've noticed."
"Yeah, that sounds about right." Kirito set his drink aside. "I hadn't heard the 'Black Swordsman' thing before, but…"
"It might not be the kind of thing people say to your face." Keita turned back to him, visibly relaxing. "This is the first I've even heard of you being on a floor this far down. That doesn't sound like someone who'd be out to hog all the good drops."
"I've heard a few stories," Sachi put in cautiously, a smile edging its way back onto her face. "Something about being the first 'Beater'? But someone who works that hard on the frontline couldn't be that kind of person."
The festive atmosphere was quickly returning now, to Kizmel's relief. It probably didn't matter much if one small guild took a dislike to them; Kirito had endured the Aincrad Liberation Squad's scorn and the DDA's condescension well enough. Even so, she didn't want her partner burdened by yet more of that, when she knew well he did truly want nothing more than to help.
Still, she couldn't help but chuckle. "Actually," she said, when the Black Cats looked at her askance, "that one is… somewhat true. The full story is a bit more complicated than you'd likely hear from the Army, though."
Eyes turned to Kirito, who coughed uncomfortably. "It had to do with the first boss raid, and a riot in the making and, well… It's a long story."
"I'd like to hear it sometime," Sachi said. "Most of what we hear from the frontlines is rumors," she explained, when attention shifted to her. "Everybody knows about the KoB, and how they're trying to keep casualties down in the clearing group, but I'd never heard about any clearers who'd go out of their way to help a low-level guild like us. What else don't we know?"
"Probably a lot," Keita admitted. He turned back to Kirito. "Which brings me back to my original point, when I asked about how strong you were. I know this is a little unreasonable, if you're so busy with the clearing group, but… Could you two stick around, just for a little while? We could really use a little help getting on our feet—little things, like what Kizmel-san said about our formation. I think we really could start making a difference for other players, if we just had a bit of a boost."
"Yeah!" Ducker put in. "And we could put out the word that not all clearers are Beaters! Hey," he said, when Kirito looked over at him, "it sounds to me like you could use some help there. If you hadn't saved our hides earlier, I wouldn't have thought the Black Swordsman was such a nice guy."
Kirito hesitated, looking conflicted. Kizmel could guess easily enough why. On the one hand, he'd made a policy, ever since arriving in this world, of being right at the front of the clearers, to the extent of probably having struck the final blow to more Field and Pillar Guardians than every other Swordmaster combined. Keeping his strength up, she knew, was how he'd survived so long with just Asuna—and later, herself—by his side.
More than that, there was something that had always kept him out of guilds, for as long as Kizmel had known him. The Army would never have taken him, and Lind had only ever seemed to offer out of a desire to "put him in his place", as Asuna had acidly put it, but the KoB had once made a serious overture to him, and he'd turned it down cold. He'd said it was because beta testers like himself—whatever they were—didn't mesh well with others, and that he didn't want to potentially bind Kizmel to anything, but she was sure there was something else going on.
On the other hand, Kizmel suspected it was the first time a group had offered a friendly invitation to him. The KoB had been all business, and other Swordmaster guilds had ranged from indifferent to hostile; her own Dark Elves had been more welcoming to him than any group of humans.
Kirito may have been a loner, but she'd seen that it got to even him, now and then.
When the silence stretched on, Keita coughed, looking away. "Sorry. I guess that was a bit presumptuous of me. I know you've got a lot to do up at the frontlines—"
"I think it's a good idea, actually," Kizmel interrupted, finally deciding to cut through the stalemate herself. "You need aid—and the fact of the matter is, the clearing group is too small." She glanced between Keita and Kirito both. "We have enough for battles with the Pillar Guardians, but we really do need more Swordmasters who can help clear the way to their chambers.
"More than that, you're right: Kirito could use a few more people around who see him as more than just the Black Swordsman, or the Beater. None among my own people regard him as such, but the other clearers…"
Asuna, Argo, and Agil. Besides herself, those were the only Swordmasters Kizmel knew of that Kirito could really turn to on a personal level. Well, there was potentially another, but for whatever reason Kirito himself didn't seem to regard the "Klein" he'd occasionally mentioned as an option.
She just hoped he didn't mind too much that she'd more or less committed them to this.
After a few moments of surprised silence, Kirito gave her a crooked smile. "You really think this could work, Kizmel?"
"It might set back floor exploration slightly," she answered seriously. "But in the long term, helping another guild become strong enough to contribute to that will more than offset it, and in the short term it will be easy enough for us to return to the front when Pillar Guardians are located, and still contribute to those battles."
"…That's true enough." Turning back to Keita, Kirito stood, and tentatively held out a hand. "I can't promise you won't regret having us along, but… I'll do what I can, Keita. Thank you."
"We should be thanking you," Keita replied, smiling in relief as he shook Kirito's hand. "Any help you guys can give us will be great."
Kizmel reached over to lay her hand over theirs. "We will do our best, Keita," she promised. "I'm looking forward to working with you, myself. I've had little chance to talk with Swordmasters other than Kirito and our friend Asuna, so I welcome this opportunity."
This was how an alliance was supposed to be, she thought, as the group fell into animated conversation. Nothing at all like the atmosphere that always settled in when the disparate members of the clearing group met for strategy meetings, two large groups and a handful of smaller interests who often seemed only nominally united by a single goal.
The Moonlit Black Cats might be lacking in strength, might need some serious advice on how to use the strength they did have, but one thing they definitely already had that was missing from the frontlines was cheerful camaraderie. It was like what Kirito had with Asuna, Argo, or Agil, but with an entire group.
This is what's missing from the clearing group: true unity. Perhaps we can train the Black Cats well enough to reach even the front, and finally change that.
In the meantime… maybe I can discover what it is that feels so off about the Swordmasters. They're so skilled, yet so few of them have the feel of true warriors… Why?
Wednesday, July 12th, 2023
After a day of working out exactly how the alliance of a duo of clearers and a small guild of low-level Swordmasters would function, Kirito led them to a forest clearing on the Fifteenth Floor for some training. A good grinding spot, he'd said, adding, "Probably the best place right now is up on the Twentieth, but I don't think you're quite ready for that yet."
Given that he and Kizmel had found them on the verge of being overwhelmed in a dungeon on the Eleventh Floor, Keita had ruefully agreed to that. The presence of two clearers would, at least, make a jump of a few floors survivable, with care.
As she waited with the Black Cats for Kirito to lure Spike Boars to the clearing, Kizmel reflected that it probably was as good a location as they were going to get. The mobs would be powerful enough to give the Black Cats a good workout, while the openness of the clearing would allow them to run well enough if it came down to it.
She herself was sitting this battle out, barring emergency. With five Black Cats, that left only one spot in the mystical cooperative arrangement Mystic Scribing allowed for, so it had been decided that she and Kirito would trade off helping directly.
Not that Kizmel was idle. Her role, today, was to look after Sachi, who was visibly uncomfortable with the sword and shield to which she'd finally been convinced to switch. "You'll be fine," Kizmel assured her, noticing the tremble in the girl's stance. "It may be more frightening not to have the spear's length between you and the enemy, but with a shield you'll actually be safer than you were before."
"I know that intellectually," Sachi replied, watching anxiously for any sign of Kirito's return with their quarry. "It's just… I wasn't very good with a spear as it was, and I've never used a sword or shield at all."
"It is not as difficult as you might think. A shield has no Sword Skills associated with it, and the first Skills of the one-handed sword are very simple. My own style uses some of them, and Kirito can show you others."
"Is a shield even that good?" Tetsuo wondered, positioned a little ways to Sachi's right as the other forward. "I mean, Kirito doesn't bother with one, and he's a clearer!"
"I do," Kizmel pointed out dryly, hefting her kite shield for emphasis. "Kirito's style is pure offense, and the only reason it works is because he has faster reflexes than anyone I've ever seen, even among the greatest swordsmen of my own people. He can show Sachi techniques, but I certainly don't advocate imitating his style as a whole."
There was a loud rustling in the undergrowth at the edge of the clearing. "Hey!" came Kirito's indignant voice, over a series of loud, bestial grunts. "Are you saying I'm reckless, Kizmel?!"
"Asuna does!" she called back. "And speaking of reckless—how many boars did you attract?"
The plan had been for him to kite one or two at a time, enough to challenge the Black Cats without overwhelming them. Kizmel was fairly sure she was hearing enough noise for at least double that. And—are those wings I hear?
"So we get a little extra practice," Kirito panted, dashing into view. "Don't worry, we can handle it. Try and keep those Rage Crows off us, though, okay?"
Rage Crows? As her partner spun to face the way he'd come, sword held low and to one side, Kizmel had only a moment to absorb the comment. Then three boars, covered in spikes, charged out of the trees, with as many black birds flying just above them. About three times the size of the more inoffensive variety she knew from the forests of home, their eyes blazed with a murderous crimson light.
Sachi eeped in fright, and even the more enthusiastic Ducker audibly swallowed. "Uh," the self-proclaimed thief began. "I don't think this was part of the plan…"
"We can do it." Keita didn't sound as confident as his words suggested, but he leveled his staff anyway, holding position with Sasamaru. "Kirito?"
"Sachi, Tetsuo," Kirito said at once, not even looking back. "Focus on the boar on the right. Ducker, we've got the one on the left. Keita, Sasamaru, keep the one in the middle back until we've taken out the others, and if the Crows get in reach, hit them, too. Kizmel—"
"I'll be ready," she promised. Stepping out of the way of Sachi's sword, Kizmel drew her saber, prepared to counter anything that got through. The idea was to train up the Black Cats, so she wouldn't intervene if she could avoid it, but training wouldn't help if they were killed.
Kirito made the first move, bashing one of the boars in the nose with his blade; a fast, hard move, but without the supernatural power or speed of a Sword Skill. It disoriented the beast without doing causing much injury, allowing Ducker to circle around to its less-pointed hindquarters and launch a simple skill of his own with a flash of red.
At the other flank, Tetsuo let out a yell and brought his mace down in a streak of blue. Like Kirito, he went for his foe's snout, but much more powerfully; the mystically-enhanced strike drove the boar's face down into the dirt with a squeal that was half pain, half rage.
Sachi took that as her cue to dart forward on wobbly legs, delivering a simple Vertical to the top of the boar's head. Still recovering from Tetsuo's blow, it made no effort to dodge, and its chin hit the ground once again.
This time, though, it didn't stay that way for long, and in the gap the Skill's recoil left in Sachi's movements, it reared back up, snorted in rage, and lunged tusks-first at the nervous girl. Unable to move her legs, she did manage to bring her shield up in time, but the impact threw her off-balance, vulnerable to further attack.
The Spike Boar in the center looked ready to do just that, and a screech announced the intent of one of the Rage Crows. Sachi fell back, yelping in fear, only barely keeping her shield lifted in her own defense—an insufficient defense, against an attack from multiple angles.
A thrust of a spear and downward slam of staff discouraged the boar, a one-two to the face that sent it reeling back with a squeal. At the same time, Kizmel leapt into the air, saber glowing with the bright trail of a Slant that sent the Crow hurtling back into the trunk of a tree, feathers flying in all directions.
Landing lightly, she took Sachi's shield hand and gently pulled the girl to her feet. "It's all right," Kizmel said, giving her a reassuring smile. "You're not alone, Sachi."
"Just watch your timing, and you'll be fine!" Kirito called, easily dancing around his own foe's attempt to gut him. "It's not too hard, once you know what you're doing!"
Swallowing, shaking, Sachi set herself, shield in front and sword lifting hesitantly into position again. "I-I'll try," she said, voice trembling.
Tetsuo flashed her a quick grin. "Hey, we already got it down by almost half. These things aren't that tough!"
The two of them had, in fact, hurt their boar worse than the other actively-engaged mob, Kizmel noticed as she fended off another of the crows. Much of it was from the raw power of Tetsuo's mace, of course, but even with Sachi's hesitance, her weapon was still inflicting heavier injury than Ducker's simple knife.
Ducker is more confident, she thought, using the quick diagonal slash of a Streak to force the ravenous bird back. But Sachi's sword is the stronger weapon—and her technique is better than I'd realized. Her real problem isn't knowing how to fight.
With a shout, Tetsuo brought his mace around to hit the Spike Boar in the flank, the heavy weapon unhindered by the spines. It grunted, the blow having knocked it off-balance, and fell to the ground with a heavy thud. "Sachi, Switch!"
"R-right!" Stance still wobbly, Sachi's face took on a determined expression and she darted forward, bringing another Vertical down right between the boar's eyes. Throughout, her footwork was shaky, but her grip on her sword had firmed up this time, and she drove the blade down with her own muscles as much as the charms of the Sword Skill.
With a final, plaintive squeal, the Spike Boar shattered into blue fragments and vanished.
"I… I did it?" Sachi whispered, frozen in the posture the Sword Skill had released her in.
Tetsuo clapped her on the shoulder, grinning. "You did, Sachi! Nice one!"
"Very!" Kirito called, casually dodging to one side as the boar Keita and Sasamaru were holding back tried to gore him. "Okay, finish off the second one, and then we can take this guy out—hopefully before he gets me!"
Sachi's moment of personal vindication was unfortunately spoiled a moment after that by the third Rage Crow attacking her from behind, having slipped past Kizmel's guard while she was distracted by the first two. Crying out in surprise and renewed fear, she quickly fell back again, leaving Tetsuo to flail at the bird with his mace.
At that point, Kizmel decided it was time to thin the opposition, and launched the heaviest blow she knew at the Rage Crow. Taught to her by her instructor in the Lyusula capital, the Fell Crescent let her cover four meters in an instant of blurred crimson light, delivering a powerful downward stroke that ripped the crow clean in half before it shattered; and, just incidentally, leaving Kizmel well-positioned to guard Sachi's back while she recovered.
The girl held back while her comrades went after the boar Ducker had been slowly bleeding, panting and shaking. Waiting for her to regain some of her courage, Kizmel kept her own shield up, fending off further diving attacks by the remaining crows.
Remembering Sachi's technique in that one moment of confidence, Kizmel didn't begrudge the effort. She knows how to fight—she just doesn't know she can.That, more than technique, is what we need to teach her. Her problem is her own lack of confidence.
"It's all right," she murmured to the girl behind her. "Focus on what's in front of you, Sachi—I have your back."
Sachi didn't reply, but gradually her breathing evened out. Eventually, the faint clanking of armor from her trembling quieted, as well, and by the time Tetsuo and Ducker finally felled the second boar, Kizmel heard the girl take up her sword and shield again.
The question, Kizmel thought as Sachi hesitantly moved in to help take down the final Spike Boar, is why she was allowed onto the battlefield in the first place without being taught that. What was involved with the spell that called the Swordmasters, that some were thrown into war with barely any training at all?
Perhaps there was some obscure human tradition she simply wasn't aware of. Perhaps they thought the best training was in the field, where it was learn or die. Survival of the fittest, where the truly strong survived to be the protectors of the "NPCs", and the weakest either found strong protectors, or died.
Shivering, Kizmel took out her dark thoughts on another of the Rage Crows, her superior strength rending it with a single blow. She hoped she was wrong about that. Certainly it was an attitude that Kirito would've disagreed with; he devoted all his strength to fighting where others could not, for all that others often thought he was only out for himself.
No. She was almost certainly wrong about that. Even Kibaou at his worst would never have espoused such a philosophy; indeed, his entire enmity toward Kirito had apparently been based on rage against those would shun the weak.
But if that isn't it, Kizmel thought, beheading the final Rage Crow, what is it? By what logic does someone cast a spell to summon warriors, and call for such a disparate group? Kirito, the Knights of Blood, even the Divine Dragons and the Army, they are the sort one might expect to be summoned as protectors.
Why would that same spell call the Black Cats?
Thursday, July 20th, 2023
They'd been training with the Black Cats for a bit over a week when they received word that the boss room on the Thirtieth Floor had been found. In that time the untrained warriors had begun to grow in strength, according to the strange numerical values Swordmasters used to estimate their own abilities, and Kirito left them with a few suggestions for safe places to train while he and Kizmel were gone.
After a relatively uneventful battle with a Pillar Guardian, they rested on the newly-opened Thirty-First Floor, then descended to the Fifteenth to meet up with the Black Cats in the field.
The duo of clearers found them resting in a monster-free, grassy hill a kilometer or so outside the floor's biggest town, having apparently just finished a round of training. "Oi, Kirito, Kizmel!" Tetsuo called, when they came into view. "Over here, guys!"
"I'm glad to see you're both alright," Keita said, when they'd joined the group on the grass. "I know you're clearers and all, but I've heard some of the boss fights can be pretty bad. Even the Army retreated last month, I heard…"
Kirito flopped inelegantly on his back. "You could've just checked your Friends List, couldn't you? Besides, Argo's newsletter should've told you there were no casualties." He pointed at the item Keita was holding at that very moment, a sheet of paper labeled The Weekly Argo, put out by none other than the Rat herself.
For a small fee, of course. Kizmel doubted Argo ever did anything without monetizing it somehow, as nice as the info broker was otherwise.
"We could check on you," Sachi pointed out, sitting a couple of meters away with sword and shield set neatly on the ground beside her. "Kizmel still isn't in the system like that, and who knows if Argo would've mentioned her. The article did just say no player casualties—ah, no offense, Kizmel," she added quickly. "I didn't mean—"
"It's fine, Sachi," Kizmel assured her. "We are different, even if we're fighting for the same cause. Many Swordmasters probably would not make any note, it's true—but I believe Argo would have." She smiled reassuringly. "But no, we're both fine. The battle was intense, but routine."
"We figure that big spider a few floors ago, the one that nearly wiped out the Army, was a special case," Kirito added, resting his head on his hands. "It marked the one-quarter point of the clearing, after all. Now, the Fiftieth Floor kinda scares me, but until then…"
That wasn't entirely true, Kizmel knew. Even on "regular" floors, the clearing group had occasionally lost one or two members to bosses. Still, by all accounts The Adamantine Arachnid had indeed been unusual in its strength and its death toll.
Deciding to change the subject before anyone thought too deeply on that, Kizmel glanced over the resting but not, apparently, completely worn-out Black Cats. "So, how did your training go while we were gone? I trust things went smoothly enough."
Sasamaru laughed. "You were only gone a day, Kizmel, it's not like there was time for much to happen. Yeah, we were fine. Well, except for that time we got chased by a bunch of goblins yesterday afternoon, but eh. We managed."
Kirito lifted his eyebrows in the lancer's direction. "Goblins? Again? Were you back in the same place Kizmel and I—?"
"We had a bit better idea of what we were doing this time, Kirito," Keita said. He scratched the back of his head, looking sheepish. "We did have to retreat, but weren't exactly on the edge of being wiped out this time. And Sachi was paying enough attention that we knew there was a problem in time to kill a couple of them and get out."
Attention turned to the fledgling swordswoman, and Sachi blushed. "I was only looking so close because I was nervous," she muttered. "It's not that big a deal."
Over a week into working with the Black Cats, and Sachi's nerve was still uncertain. Kizmel hadn't expected that to change overnight, though, and for now she'd been focusing on helping the girl hone her basic technique, figuring that just realizing she could fight would help the confidence problem. Besides…
"Only a fool is completely confident, Sachi," Kizmel said, reaching over to rest a hand on the girl's shoulder. "As you said, you were watching because you were afraid. It shouldn't control you—but you should not forget it, either. An edge of tension is good for a knight."
Sachi looked away. "I'm not cut out to be a knight, though. I… I tried, once…"
That was just odd enough a comment to pique Kizmel's curiosity; soft as it was, she didn't think Sachi had even meant for her to hear it.
Kizmel, with her elven hearing, was apparently the only one who did hear it, as before she could try and pursue the thought Ducker loudly rummaged in a pouch at his belt. "Something else that's good for a knight—or a thief?" he said with a grin. "Lunch!"
Kirito instantly went from looking ready to nap to rapt attention, and he eagerly took one of the wrapped bars of oats, honey, and nuts that Swordmasters often favored for field rations. Not that Kizmel disagreed, being rather fond of them herself; they were much better than the hard bread and tough jerky her own people resorted to, when far from home.
Granola bars, she thought they were called. An ingenious concept, and one she intended to introduce to her own people on her next visit home.
Much as she liked them herself, though, she couldn't help but chuckle at Kirito's enthusiasm. It was amazing, sometimes, the way her partner could go from deadly serious in the middle of a fight to cheery and carefree outside it. She'd almost thought, sometimes, that he hadn't been brought up as the swordsman his sheer skill proved him to be.
That evening, after another round of training—Ducker joking that this time they had "expert supervision"—they gathered in the tavern in Taft they'd visited the night they first met for dinner. In Kizmel's estimation, things had gone well; the Black Cats still weren't up to the standards of a proper clearing party, but they were definitely shaping up.
A month, perhaps, and they might actually be ready to start helping with exploration on the frontlines, though it would probably be somewhat longer before the Black Cats could handle being part of a Pillar Guardian raid.
In terms of skill, at least, Kizmel thought, quietly nursing a flagon of ale as the others went over the day's training again. Attitude… Keita is doing well enough, but one or two of them are still a bit impulsive for my liking. And Sachi… I wonder why she still cannot believe in her own skills?
She shrugged inwardly. Even if she didn't want to see them fighting a boss any time soon, with only a little more tempering they'd be a welcome addition to the teams mapping the floors and their attendant labyrinths. That alone would be valuable—maybe even more than having extra hands for the raids, at least as long as the casualty rate remained as low as it had been lately.
"Hey, Kirito, Kizmel," Tetsuo said suddenly, setting down his flagon with a muted thump. "What's it like, up at the frontlines?"
"I've been wondering that, too," Keita admitted, leaning his elbows on the table they all sat around. "I certainly don't begrudge the help—I did ask you guys, after all—but… it's got to be kind of boring hanging around low-level players like us, right? I'd like to think we're getting better, but it must be tiring, babysitting us all the time."
"You might be surprised," Kizmel said, putting aside her own ale. "Remember, Kirito and I mostly travel just by ourselves; we don't 'hang around' with other clearers very often."
"She's right," Kirito agreed, around the last mouthful of a sandwich. He took a moment to swallow, chased it down with the water he was limiting himself to tonight, and continued, "Actually, it's… kinda nice be around you guys. We may all be working toward the same goal in the clearing group, but people don't really socialize much when we're not in the field. Not just us, either; guild members stick with their own, mostly. Especially the DDA, and the Army when they were still on the frontlines."
"I'd heard those two guilds could be pretty high-handed," Keita conceded. "To be honest, that kind of attitude is why I was a little suspicious when you first admitted you were clearers, until Ducker realized who you were. What about the solos, though? Or the Knights of Blood? I've heard they've got a good guy leading them. And the stories I've heard about their second-in-command…"
Kizmel hid a smile at that last. She, too, had heard some of the rumors that had been spreading about Asuna lately, and she had to wonder if her friend had any idea just how much she was starting to be idolized. Before, only clearers had any real idea who she was; in the short time since the KoB had been formed, word had spread fast.
Kirito's reaction was more sober, though, focusing on Keita's real point. "The KoB are pretty nice, so far as it goes," he said, nodding. "But they're the smallest of the high-level guilds. And the other solos… The truth is, Keita, you don't make it as a solo, especially not on the frontlines, if you don't put your own survival above everyone else. I've got Kizmel keeping me on the straight and narrow, but… All too many others don't do much to help their case against Kibaou's complaints about the beta testers, back when we killed Illfang."
"What did happen then?" Sachi asked, entering the conversation with a very intent expression on her face. "I've only ever heard rumors. I remember the anti-beta tester talk died down a lot after that, but then everybody started complaining about 'Beaters' instead."
Kirito hesitated, obviously debating how much to say. He shot a glance at Kizmel, as if looking for support; in this case, though, she knew little more than the Black Cats. And, if she was going to be completely honest, she was as curious as Sachi, only having heard his very bare-bones explanation a week before.
"Some of it is… kind of private," he said at last, leaning back in his chair with a pensive look. "Not everybody who was there is still alive, and I don't want to speak ill of the dead." He grimaced, then shrugged. "Basically, we went into that with a strategy based on information from the beta test about Illfang's attack patterns. Only it turned out, when Illfang switched to his second weapon, things had changed from what we knew."
"Beta test?" Kizmel interjected, leaning forward. She'd heard the term used before, but this was the first opportunity she'd really had to question it.
From the look on her partner's face, it was another of those "difficult to translate" concepts. Apparently he'd realized this point would come up at some point, though, because he didn't hesitate long before answering. "Um… call it a kind of practice run, set in a partial copy of Aincrad, according to information we had about the real thing. 'Beta testers' were the people who went through that before coming here; somewhere around eight hundred of the original ten thousand Swordmasters."
"I see." She leaned back again, frowning thoughtfully. That did at least explain his prior comments about those who had more information about when they were getting into than others.
Yet it raises another question. Why only eight hundred? Ten thousand warriors summoned to fight, and less than a tenth were given any kind of briefing at all?
And a "partial copy" of the Steel Castle… What a strange, and amazing, place Kirito must come from. To have such wonders, and yet to send people into a war with so little knowledge. If they knew of Aincrad, the spell could not have caught them completely unaware… perhaps they knew of it, but didn't know exactly who would be called?
Come to think of it, that actually made a certain degree of sense. Clearly, the Swordmasters weren't in Aincrad entirely of their own free will; she'd heard them speak of trying to free themselves often enough. It was entirely possible that communication with the world they came from was at least as fractured as between the floors of Aincrad itself.
Even as Kizmel pondered the conundrum, Kirito was continuing his explanation to the Black Cats. "Anyway, we expected Illfang to have a tulwar. Instead, he had a nodachi." He winced. "I recognized the weapon from higher floors, but Diavel, the raid leader, didn't notice in time. He acted on the old information, and… he was killed when Illfang used techniques the strategy guide hadn't mentioned."
"And everybody just assumed the beta testers lied about it?" Keita shook his head. "That sounds like an honest mistake to me."
"You weren't there," Kirito pointed out. "Tensions were running high, and Kibaou was anti-tester to begin with. Worse than that, though, I did recognize the katana techniques Illfang used, and told the rest of the raid how to avoid them. So, obviously, I'd 'let' Diavel die, and Argo the Rat was in on it." He shrugged. "Maybe if it hadn't been the very first boss, it wouldn't have mattered so much. But we needed that victory, and we couldn't afford a witch hunt."
"There wasn't one, either," Sachi said, looking troubled. "Some people still don't like the testers, but it died down right after that."
"Kibaou wanted one, though. He wasn't the only one. So…" Another shrug from Kirito, with a casual air Kizmel could tell was feigned. "They looked about ready to PK me anyway, so I did my best evil laugh, called Argo and the other testers amateurs, and claimed I got higher in the beta than anybody else. That got people mad at me specifically, but also kinda scared, 'beta tester' and 'cheater' got thrown around enough to get combined into 'Beater', and… here we are."
He took the hatred eight thousand people directed at eight hundred, all on his own shoulders, Kizmel realized. He allowed himself to be ostracized for their sake…
No wonder he went to such lengths to help my people. What was a war, next to being hated by so many of his own?
"It's not as bad as it used to be," Kirito noted, seeing the looks on the Black Cats' faces. "There were only forty-four people in that boss raid, one of them died, and two of them realized what I was doing from the start. Not many people knew who I was back then. These days? Not even Kibaou's crowd thought us testers knew anything above the Tenth Floor or so. Maybe we got an 'unfair' head start, but there's nothing we can be hiding anymore."
"Except for the stuff the other solos find first and keep to themselves," Sasamaru remarked, eyes narrow. "That's what you meant about not helping their case, right?"
"Well, yeah," Kirito conceded. "Not that some of the guilds have much room to talk. Lind isn't too bad on that, but the rest of the DDA… well, they've got a bit of a reputation for a reason." He reached for his glass again. "Honestly? That's part of why I think Kizmel was right to talk me into helping you guys this much. You guys are like a family."
"We all go to school together, actually," Keita said, smiling at the comment. "The Black Cats go way back. This isn't our first adventure—though it's probably our worst." He laughed a little at that; then coughed, rubbing at the ribs Sachi had just dug an elbow into.
"Well, it's a feeling we could really use more of on the frontlines," Kizmel said, lifting her flagon toward them. "You humans don't have quite the organization my people do, even with your guilds, but I'm beginning to think that isn't such a bad thing—if you can work together better than we see all too often among the clearers."
"Then we'd better work harder to catch up." Keita raised his flagon to hers. "Right, guys? There is something we can do, and I say we do it!"
The loud expression of group agreement might've sounded just a bit weak from Sachi's direction, as the others brought their drinks together in a united toast, but it was a strong one regardless. There was more energy and determination among these humans than Kizmel was used to from her own Pagoda Knights, certainly.
"Just one thing," Tetsuo said, when the ale had been drained. "If we're gonna get stronger, we need tougher fights. I know, I know, we don't want to fight anything too tough for training, but if we've got you two backing us up for grinding, we can build levels a bit faster than this, right?"
Kizmel didn't miss the way Sachi's face paled, nor the way Kirito glanced in her direction. She held the latter's gaze for a moment, both of them silently weighing the potential risks. "It… might be possible," she said at length. "If we're careful…"
"Argo," Kirito said, looking not much happier than she felt. "I'll see about getting in touch with Argo. She'll know if there's any quests with good experience that a party like ours can handle."
Ducker pumped a fist. "Yes! Something more than just more boars, birds, and goblins!"
Even Keita, mostly the voice of reason in the Black Cats, nodded cheerfully at the idea. Sachi, though, didn't join in the chatter that followed, and seemed to lose interest in the remains of her dinner.
Saturday, July 22nd, 2023
After some discussion, they did agree to wait a few days more to try their blades against stronger foes. Sachi and Ducker, with the former's hesitance and the latter's weaker weapon, had fallen slightly behind the others in "levels", and Kirito wanted to try and even that up before attempting battles which would, under the proposed conditions, leave one of the Black Cats on the sidelines at any given time.
For two days, they rotated the party to accomplish just that, and made good progress toward their goal. Then on the second night, as Kirito and Kizmel returned from a brief foray to a higher floor to have their equipment touched up by frontline merchants, Kirito received an unexpected message.
They'd just materialized at the teleportation device in Taft's central square when he frowned, tilting his head at a sound Kizmel didn't hear. "That's odd," he murmured, swiping a hand to bring up his Mystic Scribing.
Kizmel raised an eyebrow in his direction. "Is something wrong, Kirito?"
"A message from Keita," he answered, eyes flickering over the text hanging in the air before him. "We're heading for the inn anyway, what could be so urgent…? Oh. That's… not good." Kirito glanced up from the message, gaze dark with concern. "Keita says Sachi disappeared right after we left. As soon as they got back to the inn, she said she had something she needed to take care of… Now she isn't answering messages, and her location isn't showing up on the guild member list."
That wasn't like the nervous girl at all, and Kizmel felt a chill spread through her body. Amazing as it was, human Mystic Scribing did have some limitations, so there were several possible explanations for Sachi's disappearance; at least two of them, however, were bad ones.
"The other Black Cats have gone to look in the dungeon where we first met. If Sachi were… gone… she wouldn't still be showing up on the guild list at all," Kirito reminded her. "She pretty much has to be somewhere the Mystic Scribing doesn't cover."
Some of the tension eased out of her shoulders even before it could really take hold, but Kizmel was still concerned. "She won't be in the dungeon," she said quietly. "Sachi can barely stand going there with the whole group; I can't see her having gone alone. Are there safer locations the Scribing does not reach?"
Kirito frowned pensively. "…About all I can think of would be places like the Dark Elf camp on the Third Floor, or Yofel Castle. Unless…" He snapped his fingers. "Try putting on your cloak for a second, Kizmel. I want to check something."
My cloak? Ah, of course! Nodding in understanding, Kizmel pulled the hood of her Mistmoon Cloak up over her head, then drew the rest of it securely around herself.
To her own eyes, there was no change in world, but she knew Kirito would no longer be able to see her. Once he'd confirmed the conditions had been met for the special property of her cloak, though, he focused his gaze instead on the ephemeral page he'd brought up.
After a second, he nodded to himself, letting out a relieved breath. "Invisibility effects do block location tracking. And since I seem to remember that cloak Sachi found in that hidden room in the dungeon this morning has that… She's probably somewhere in town." He frowned again. "But why would she…?"
"I'll ask her," Kizmel said, opening her cloak again. "Kirito, you go make sure Keita and the others make it back safe. I'll find Sachi."
Kirito bit his lip, but nodded. "Okay. I wish there was some way you could tell me when you find her… Well, I'll just make sure we hurry back. I'll see you soon."
After exchanging a quick hand clasp, they went their separate ways, Kirito taking off at a run for the town entrance, Kizmel making her way to the inn the Black Cats called home.
I wish I could, too, she reflected, hurrying down the nearly deserted street. Sending messages across such distances, locating each other at a glance, carrying so much more than they could by hand… With Mystic Scribing, it's no wonder the Swordmasters have accomplished the feats they have.
At least her own skills as a tracker were not inferior to her partner's. From what he had said, Kirito could discern distinct sets of footprints when trying to find a specific individual, but while she might not have that ability, it was more a matter of how she perceived the world. Her senses as a Dark Elf provided her much the same information, just more subtly.
At the front entrance of the inn, Kizmel found traces of the passage of a number of people. Though Taft was far below the front line, an increasing number of lesser Swordmasters had gathered in recent days, trying to reach just a little higher; signs of their presence made picking out just one trail difficult.
Kizmel knew, though, that Sachi wouldn't have stayed around crowds. If she had gone to such lengths to hide herself, her own trail would lead somewhere else, away from the paths of other Swordmasters. With that in mind, she spread her search wider, edging away from the inn itself.
There, she thought, a few minutes into her quest. An indefinable trail leading away from the areas most people gathered, the mark of just one person's passage disappearing down a disused alley. Following it farther away from the inn, Kizmel quickly identified it as Sachi's path, as surely as if she could could see glowing footprints on the cobblestones.
In the end, the trail led her down to a bridge over a stream running through the east end of Taft. Or rather, off to one side, down, and then under the bridge, out of sight of prying eyes.
There, back against the stone foundations of the bridge, black hair obscuring her face and new cloak wrapped around her body, sat the girl Kizmel was looking for. "Sachi?" she called softly, slipping into the shadows herself.
Sachi started, bringing her head up to look. "Oh… Kizmel. What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you," Kizmel said patiently. "You didn't make it easy. The others thought you might be in a dungeon, so Kirito had to go get them."
The other girl winced. "I didn't mean to worry them like that. I just… needed some time alone."
Kizmel moved to sit a careful handful of paces away, leaning back against the stone. "I thought as much, if you came to a place like this." She glanced over, watching as Sachi's head sank back down into her arms. "What's wrong, Sachi?"
Though after the last week, I suspect I can guess…
The answer, when Sachi did finally bring herself to speak, didn't surprise Kizmel as much as she suspected it would have the other Black Cats. "…I'm scared," the girl whispered. "I… want to run away. From the monsters, from the Black Cats… from this whole crazy world."
There were two ways Kizmel could think of to take that statement, and one of them chilled her to the bone. "You don't mean… suicide?" Oh, she hoped that wasn't what Sachi meant. She'd heard the stories, now, of how the population of Swordmasters had been when the spell pulled them to Aincrad. Those whispered tales of despair had contributed to her own disturbed confusion about the exact nature of their summoning.
Sachi actually smiled at that; a weak smile, one almost totally devoid of humor. Though there was, Kizmel thought, just the faintest trace of dark amusement in the expression. "That might be nice, actually," she said, in a voice that sounded almost whimsical. A moment later, though, she shook her head. "No, sorry, I'm kidding… If I was really ready to do that, I would have gone to the dungeon."
The chill eased, though it still didn't go away. Just because she didn't want to die didn't mean Sachi was anything close to "all right". If she were, she wouldn't have come here, either.
After a long moment of silence, Sachi whispered, "I want to go home, Kizmel. I'm so scared of dying, I've hardly slept since I came to this place. I want to go home, and I don't understand why I can't…"
She doesn't understand the summoning spell, either, then. But… Kirito obviously wants to go home just as badly, yet he does seem to understand why he's here. None of the clearers I've met have ever questioned this, at least not in my hearing.
It's another contradiction. None of this makes any sense.
"Sachi," Kizmel began gently, "what do you mean?"
"…I don't know if I can explain it," Sachi said slowly, hugging her knees. "The world I come from is so different, and you're different…" She shook her head. "I'm sorry, I know I'm babbling. Kizmel, I… this wasn't supposed to be like this. We weren't supposed to be trapped in this world. It wasn't supposed to be able to kill us…"
Cold creeped back into Kizmel's veins. Not fear this time, not exactly—more like a presentiment of horror, as the pieces finally began to fall into place. They expected to be able to return to their world at will… of course they would expect to be safe from harm, if they believed they could simply leave the bodies the spell gave them here.
And if they believed themselves safe, then even those who lacked proper training would see no reason not to volunteer to come here.
The picture was starting to come together, Kizmel was sure of it. There were pieces missing, gaps their different societies and languages left, but she was beginning to see one unifying truth that resolved the seeming contradictions that had been bothering her. "Sachi, could you tell me what happened? What went wrong, when you came here?"
Sachi was quiet for a long while; the same kind of silence, Kizmel thought, that would grip Kirito or Asuna when they sought to explain things beyond a Dark Elf's experience. "It was supposed to be like the beta test," she said finally, gazing into the dark. "We'd come here, and fight, and clear the way to the top floor. In between, we could leave the bodies we have here, and return to our own homes. If these bodies were… killed… we could just make them again.
"The day we came here for real, Kayaba Akihiko—the man who made the—the spell—turned on us. Made it so that we were trapped in these bodies, so if these bodies died, so would we. And if anyone from our world tried to disrupt the spell, we'd die. And the only way out was to make it all the way to the top floor, and defeat the last boss.
"And he wouldn't even tell us why…"
She was shaking enough to be seen through the dark and the layer of cloak covering her, and Kizmel didn't blame her a bit. Suddenly, it all made a frightening sense, the way some of the Swordmasters were more prepared than others, how unfairly knowledge was distributed before their arrival.
The very fact that they had come to a world not their own to save it, yet were as determined to simply escape as to be rescuers.
They were told it was something they could treat almost like a game, for all its seriousness for the people of Aincrad, and that no matter what happened, they wouldn't die. That they could fight against the greatest odds without fear.
And then they were betrayed, and thousands of them have died for it.
Kizmel felt a confusing whirl of emotions, seeing so much more of the picture than she had before. Horror, that ten thousand people had been deceived into being trapped away from their homes and families, risking their very lives. Fury at the man who had done it to them, without even telling them why.
A fierce rush of warmth and pride toward Kirito and Asuna, for working so hard for her people, when they had every right and reason to focus on nothing but their own survival and escape.
"I don't understand," Sachi whispered again. "Why we were trapped, why we can die… I can't understand why Kayaba would've done this to us."
Kizmel couldn't either. Whoever this "Kayaba" was, he must've been a sorcerer of immense power, such that the abrasive Master Soveth she and Kirito had once dealt with would've bitterly envied. What would a man with such power gain from throwing ten thousand people into a war, one he very likely could've ended with his own arcane strength?
"I can hardly sleep at night, I'm so scared. I… I don't want to die…"
Hearing Sachi's anxious whisper, Kizmel decided the motivations of some distant figure were a conundrum that could wait. If Kayaba had been right there, where she could face him with steel in hand, she would have; he wasn't, she couldn't, so there was a different battle she needed to fight, and with a different weapon.
She slid over to Sachi's side, wrapping an arm around the girl like she would have her own sister Tilnel, once upon a time. "You are not going to die, Sachi," she said, pulling Sachi against her shoulder. "You'll see your home again."
Sachi looked up, eyes watery. "How can you be so sure?" she whispered.
"The Black Cats are getting stronger by the day," Kizmel pointed out. "Kirito and I will stay long enough to make certain you're strong enough—much as Kirito once did for Asuna. And," she said, giving the other girl her best reassuring smile, "you are stronger than you think you are, Sachi."
"I'm not strong," Sachi said at once, lowering her eyes. "…Anytime it really matters, I mess up…"
There was a story behind that, Kizmel was sure. There was too much emotion in that to just be about her still-shaky contributions to the Black Cats' training. It wasn't one she was going to push tonight, though; not when Sachi had already recounted such a tale of terror and betrayal.
"Your technique is excellent, and getting better every day," she said firmly. "Your problem isn't skill, Sachi, but confidence. You can fight with the best—if you only realize it."
Sachi shook her head stubbornly. "I'm just a nobody who barely ever picked up a weapon before," she muttered into Kizmel's shoulder.
"Before the day the Swordmasters were called to Aincrad," Kizmel began, "my friend Asuna had never so much as touched a sword. She was no 'beta tester' like Kirito, and until very recently she was part of no group larger than three, outside of battling Field and Pillar Guardians. Now? She's the second-in-command of the Knights of Blood, and I assure you, Sachi, the Knights do not recruit just anyone."
Indeed, with what she'd hard from Sachi, Kizmel herself was beginning to understand just how remarkable her surrogate sister really was. If the world the Swordmasters came from was so different, and they had been called under such false pretenses, Asuna's ascent to one of the strongest warriors of Aincrad was like a tale out of legend.
Sachi certainly seemed to take it as such. "Asuna the Flash was just a beginner?" she said, looking up again with wide eyes. "But she's—she's supposed to be the greatest swordswoman in Aincrad!"
The Flash? Well… if Kirito's most noteworthy feature is his black coat, Asuna's is certainly her speed… Of course, to all appearances, there was little competition among the Swordmasters for the title of greatest swordswoman, given their gender ratio.
Not that Kizmel thought Sachi was wrong, by any means. "She was. Someday, perhaps you can meet her, and ask her how frightened she was when she came to Aincrad."
Sachi shuddered; this time, though, Kizmel thought she felt some of the tension easing out of the girl. "If I can just live on," she whispered, pressing her face into Kizmel's cloak. "If I can just… believe that I can go home…"
Kizmel didn't comment as she felt tears begin to soak her cloak. She just held the girl close, and made a promise to herself.
I'd already pledged myself to aid Kirito, in return for his help in restoring peace to my kingdom. Now, knowing the truth… This is something I could never stand aside from. This Kayaba Akihiko has done something unforgivable, betraying so many of his own people.
I will help the Black Cats—help Sachi—become strong enough to survive. And Kirito and I are going to climb all the way to the Ruby Palace at Aincrad's peak—and before we strike down whatever waits us there, I will know the reason this was done.
By the time Kizmel and Sachi returned to the inn, Kirito had also gotten back from the dungeon with the rest of the Black Cats. In deference to the girl's privacy, Kizmel simply backed up Sachi's story of having needed some time to think by herself, though she did concede Keita's point that Sachi should at least have warned them first.
The elf kept her own counsel about her own realizations, not wanting to burden the Black Cats with anything more. When they'd all split up for the night, though, and she and Kirito retired to the room they shared, it didn't take long for her partner to notice something was off.
Sitting on the edge of his bed, changed into the simply short-sleeved shirt and shorts he used as sleepwear, Kirito cast a serious look in Kizmel's direction. "Is Sachi really all right, Kizmel?" he asked. "Or is something else bothering you?"
In the middle of getting ready for bed herself, Kizmel felt a flicker of amusement at the way he reddened slightly when her armor disappeared. A month of traveling together, on top of the time they'd spent during the Elf War, and he was still shy around her at times like this. Though in all fairness, he probably still remembers Asuna's usual reaction. I suppose he has more reason to be uncomfortable than merely human taboos.
The amusement was fleeting, though, and gone by the time the last traces of her battle gear vanished and she, too, sat down. "She's afraid," Kizmel said honestly. "But I believe she'll be alright, once she realizes she's not as weak as she believes herself to be."
"That's good. I was worried, and the other Black Cats were really scared." Kirito shook his head. "They've come a long way in just a couple of weeks, though. They pretty much tore through everything in their way into that dungeon, before I caught up with them."
"You've trained them well," she told him. "Even Sachi's learned a lot; she just doesn't know it."
He shrugged awkwardly. "You mean, we've trained them. It's not like I've done all this by myself… Anyway, I've just had a little practice, that's all. The first day I was here, I helped a guy get started, and, well, you were there for a lot of the early days with Asuna. Though she had speed and technique down before I even met her…"
That story, Kizmel had heard. How Kirito had met Asuna in a labyrinth, and first witnessed her unbelievable speed, honed at the cost of anything resembling sufficient rest. By the time I met her, she at least had the rest part down. She's only gotten even faster since…
"Maybe you did have help, but I'm impressed anyway," Kizmel said, lying back on her bed. Turning on her side to look at him, she added, "Not so many people, among your kind or mine, would go so far out of there way to help others. Taking the time to teach lesser warriors, going to such lengths for my people… For someone thrown into risking his life without warning, you really are incredibly generous."
Whether it was from the compliment or simply the movement of her own body, she thought for a moment that Kirito's face was going to actually light on fire. "I'm not that nice a guy," he mumbled, turning away in a vain attempt at hiding the blush. "I just… can't turn away from things that are right in front of me." He seemed to realize, a moment late, how that last could be taken, and reddened further. "Uh… anyway. …Wait. Did you say…?"
"Sachi told me," she said soberly. "That real death was not a danger you expected to face here… among other things." She paused. "I believe I would like to meet this 'Kayaba Akihiko'. Preferably armed."
Kirito's blush faded with the change in subject. "You and about eight thousand players," he said, shaking his head. "You might get a chance, too. I've always figured the guy will probably be waiting for us at the Ruby Palace."
Kizmel raised an eyebrow. "This sorcerer is the one who caused the Great Separation, as well as calling you here? That certainly explains the treachery, though it leaves the question of why he would allow his foes as much power as you do have." She thought for a moment. "It would also make him far older than I thought humans could live to be."
"That's… complicated," Kirito said slowly, finally letting himself fall back on his bed. "He's definitely the one pulling the strings, but whether he caused the Great Separation, exactly… I never heard exactly how Aincrad came about until you told us, so I couldn't say for sure."
Something about that statement seemed oddly evasive to her, but as far as she could tell he meant what he said. It's more like… there's something he isn't saying that I'm missing…
Well, that could wait for another time. It was enough, tonight, just taking in the truth of how horribly the Swordmasters had been betrayed. Any other unpleasant or awkward tales could wait.
"If he is there," she said instead, "let us do our best to be among those who confront him. I want to know, Kirito, what would possess someone to do such a thing. Although," she added, almost to herself, "I cannot quite bring myself to condemn him entirely. Your arrival gave Aincrad's people hope… and allowed us to meet."
Kirito was spared the necessity of deciding whether to respond or pretend he didn't hear it—for all she knew he might not have, though she was reasonably sure his hearing was sharp enough—by a hesitant knock at the door.
Whether he heard it or not, he was quick to answer the knock, darting over to the door before she could even move. I wonder if that's Argo? Kizmel mused, in the moment before the door opened. It would be typical of her sense of timing… But no, her knock is more distinctive than that.
When Kirito pulled open the door, it proved to be Sachi on the other side, wearing a nightgown and a sheepish expression, pillow tucked under one arm. "Um, sorry to intrude," she said softly. "But… I still couldn't sleep. Do you two mind one more, just for tonight…?"
From the look on his face, Kirito couldn't decide whether to be relieved Sachi hadn't jumped to conclusions about himself and Kizmel, or utterly, helplessly confused about what to do next. "Uh, well, I don't really mind," he stuttered, "but—"
You would think he hadn't shared a tent with Asuna and me, more than once, Kizmel thought, amused. "It's no problem at all, Sachi," she said, shifting closer to the wall. "There's plenty of room."
Sachi smiled, relieved. "Thanks, Kizmel," she said, brushing past the still-petrified Kirito. "I think I really will be better now, but… just for now…"
"I understand."
Kizmel had never had the paralyzing fear that Sachi was only beginning to break out of, but she'd had nights where she couldn't stand to be alone. She'd never told either of them, but the truth was that she'd been deeply grateful when Kirito and Asuna joined her in her tent, which had been so empty after her sister fell to the Forest Elves. Without them, she didn't know what she might've done.
Died, she reminded herself, adjusting her position to make room for Sachi to lie down. Before anything else, I owed them my life.
As the two girls started to settle in, Kirito finally shook himself, muttered something about never letting Asuna hear about this, and took a single step back toward the still-open door. Only a single step, because a loud, cheerful voice stopped him right in his tracks.
"Oi, Kii-bou! You must be psychic, ya even left the door open for me!"
Kizmel looked past a startled Sachi at a suddenly-petrified Kirito. "Did you send a message to Argo about training sites already?"
"…I am so dead…"
No time to close the door now, and no time to warn the unprepared Sachi. Argo breezed right in, wearing her typical hooded cloak and equally typical sly grin. "I was hoping to catch ya by surprise, especially after the way you've been keepin' me in the dark lately about where ya been, but—eh?"
"Um. Hello?" Sachi said weakly, smiling cautiously.
Argo stared at her for a beat, then grinned even wider, turning the expression on the hapless Kirito. "Well, somebody's been busy! First you had Kizmel-chan turn up outta nowhere, now this? Ya branching out into harems now, Kii-bou?"
Doing her very best to keep a straight face, Kizmel said somberly, "That would require Her Majesty's permission, Argo."
"Argo!"
Author's Note:
Before anyone worries, no, this is not turning into a harem fic, no yuri. Don't Worry, It's Argo's Trolling!
Ahem. Two reasons this chapter is so late. First: do not taunt the Demon Murphy. I did, saying if he did not intervene, this chapter would be finished the end of the week. That is, the week before last. Needless to say, the Demon Murphy took offense, and threw assorted chaos into my life when this chapter was a good two-thirds done.
Second, while I had the plot mostly worked out ahead of time, getting into Kizmel's head was somewhat more complicated than I expected. Unaware AI Dark Elf? Different from writing Gamer Human. Lots different.
Most important thing of note: this turned out to be a bit closer to a PoV-switch rehash of canon than I originally expected, though I hope Kizmel's very different viewpoint at least made it an interesting one. That said, anyone thinking "Outside context character makes sad story all happy!" is either going to love or hate the next chapter, depending on whether they think that's a good thing.
This chapter ended happy. Anyone who has read my Persona: Defiance of Fate should perhaps keep in mind the recent Chapter 27, and what followed on from that. If you have not, suffice to say Chapter 4 of Duet will have mood whiplash; though unlike Defiance, canon will only occur in a very general sense relating to one specific part. The setup will be quite different, and the aftermath very different.
Also note the word "Requiem" in the title.
So. Do not expect total canon-rehash next chapter—nor quite "been done by a dozen Black Cat-centric fics before" rehash; I do have one particular idea I don't believe has been done before. Likewise, do not expect total upbeat happiness. But there will be mood whiplash.
Hopefully, despite the semi-too-close-to-canon tone, this chapter was entertaining. I'd love to hear if I succeeded. -Solid