March 7th, 2025
[Congratulations!]
The last, defiant roar of Nemea The Tyrant echoed for several moments after the giant, flame-maned lion shattered to pieces. The sound bounced off the walls, fading along with the angry red torches that had cast the battle in a hellish light; only when the torchlight had turned to a warm blue did Nemea's death cry finally end.
Lowering her saber, Cortain, with a nerveless arm, Kizmel tried not to slump all the way to the floor. Leaning gratefully on Kirito's shoulder, she quickly cast her gaze over the boss chamber, taking stock. She could see numerous lifebars deep in the red; some of them still slowly dropping, at least three Swordmasters still outright on fire. As a spiral staircase began to slowly descend from the ceiling, at least a dozen voices called out, triggering Healing Crystals.
At least the anti-crystal traps still break when the battle is over, she thought wearily, sheathing her sword to better grasp her husband's arm. Kayaba maintains his dedication to "fairness", at least in his own mind. …Which is exactly what worries me now.
A quick glance at Kirito's face told her that her count was not inaccurate. Of the forty-eight Swordmasters who'd come to challenge the Ninety-Ninth Pillar Guardian, all of them were still alive. Only barely, in some cases, but in Aincrad "barely alive" was all that mattered, when the battle was over.
She could see in the expressions of many of the other raiders that she was not alone in her unease. Planting his axe on the red stone floor to brace himself on it, a grim-faced Agil was the first to speak. "That? Was way too easy, for the penultimate boss."
A murmur of agreement ran through the chamber. In the twenty-four floors since the near-disaster of the Skull Reaper, they'd never run into anything nearly as dangerous. That didn't mean there had been no more losses at all. The Demon Chiropteran of the Ninety-Fifth Floor had killed three all by itself, before a countermeasure had been found to the pitch darkness of its arena. For the last Pillar Guardian to have gone down without taking a single Swordmaster with it was… troubling.
If, admittedly, a relief. Dealing with the loss of friends was not how I wanted to spend my first wedding anniversary.
"It was probably Kayaba's way of preparing us for the end," Asuna said, softly but pitched to carry to the entire raid. "Thinking about it from his perspective, he wouldn't get the kind of grand finale he wants if we're too wiped out—in one sense or another—to even try to fight him." Showing a poise Kizmel knew hid great fatigue of her own, the Commander of the Knights of the Blood flourished her blood-red rapier and sheathed it. "Maybe it's not a good sign, but we'd be fools if we didn't accept it. At least it means we'll have a full raid for the Hundredth Floor."
Looking out over the assembled raiders, half of them collapsed on the floor, Kizmel couldn't help but wonder how many of them would rise to the next challenge. A tension had been building among the clearing group ever since they reached the Ninetieth Floor, and she feared that for some it would soon snap.
She saw the same concern among the guildmasters, and she didn't have to look to feel it in Kirito. Or Philia, for that matter, as the treasure hunter gripped Kirito's other arm. We will be there. We must. But how many will follow us?
"Respectfully, Commander Asuna, I don't think any of us are up to worrying about the next raid right now," Lind put in wryly. Maintaining his own knightly dignity by using his scimitar to hold himself up, he continued, "I suggest we disperse for now. It's nearly midnight, and we've just fought quite the battle. Not exactly the best conditions to be exploring the final floor." He paused for a moment, and took one hand from his sword's pommel to cover a cough. "If I might make another suggestion? Perhaps we should allow Kirito and Lady Kizmel to go on ahead. Others can follow in a few minutes, if they so choose."
That got him strange looks from many of the raiders, Kizmel included. Then Kibaou, sitting cross-legged by his contingent of Army Swordmasters, threw Lind a raised eyebrow and a snort. "What, you wanna use 'em to scout for trouble?"
"On the contrary," Lind replied smoothly, with none of the bristling defensiveness he would once have thrown back at his old rival. "One thing that's remained consistent even now is that there's a grace period when a new floor opens. I'd say it's likely there's little to be fought up there anyway, but either way…. Kayaba was unmasked by Lady Kizmel's efforts. I believe she's earned the right to see things for herself first… especially the sky."
Kizmel inhaled sharply at that. Few people in the room understood the significance, she suspected; even now, after nearly two years as a regular member of the clearing group, only a handful really knew her. None of them protested, though, and she even saw a few smiles. Even, she realized with a start, a rueful grin from Kibaou—though his, she thought, was more directed at Kirito.
After a moment of silence, Asuna smiled broadly. "I believe that's an excellent idea. Kirito-kun, my last order for tonight's raid is for you to escort Kizmel to the next floor."
Kirito straightened as much as he could, with Kizmel still hanging from his arm and Philia leaning on the other side. "Understood!"
Asuna nodded sharply, and turned to the rest of the raid. "Very well! Kirito-kun and Kizmel will go up first. We'll catch our breaths for a few minutes, and then the guildmasters should go up to at least get a look. The rest of you can do as you like for the night. We'll regroup on the Hundredth Floor at ten tomorrow morning."
The raiders began to disperse, some of them hurrying to teleport out. As Kizmel and Kirito made their way to the spiral staircase, the elf girl was surprised when Philia also pulled away. "You're not coming?"
The treasure hunter smiled knowingly. "I'll be up in a few minutes, promise. This moment… that's for just you and Kirito. I'm not getting in the middle of that." She gave them each a quick hug, and turned to join Rain, as the redhead got her party in order. "See you in a bit!"
"She knows how to read the room," Kirito murmured, the two of them beginning to ascend black stone stairs arm in arm. "We'll have to thank her, later."
"Yes, we will." Dearly as she cared for Philia, like another sister, Kizmel appreciated the gesture. The moment that was approaching, coming closer with each step they climbed, was one she'd been awaiting for months. Many years, in a way, as she'd long wished to see the night sky in full, ever since she'd read books on constellations as a child.
But it was a year ago, on Black Cat's deck, that Kirito and I made a promise. Tonight we fulfill the first half. Anticipation built, driving away her fatigue. A terrible battle awaited them up there, she knew. Probably the most terrible she would ever face in the Steel Castle. But first….
At the top of the staircase, stone doors slanted toward them, suggesting the stairwell terminated in open ground. Kizmel paused before them, gathering herself. As always, there was a carving on the doors; this time, all it showed was a panoply of stars and a crescent moon.
She glanced quickly at Kirito, who only smiled reassuringly. Then, taking a deep breath, she reached out with him to push open the doors.
All Kizmel's life, she'd known night as a slice of silver-specked darkness, bordering a sourceless blue. In the Steel Castle, that was all there was, when the sun went down, and even that sliver of true dark could only be seen close to the edges of one of Aincrad's floors. Of true night, she knew only stories in dusty old books; no one in the Steel Castle, save possibly the oldest of the Fallen Elves, knew the open sky from memory.
Opening the doors to Aincrad's Hundredth Floor, Kizmel saw an expanse of black spread out above her, filling her vision. All her eyes could see, in that moment, was sky, stretching out in all directions. Yet not total blackness. As she staggered out of the stairwell, she took in the vast field of stars that dotted that endless darkness, forming patterns she'd only ever seen in books.
Feeling like she was going to fall into that night sky, Kizmel clutched at Kirito's arm. It was dizzying, as if she was one step away from tumbling into constellations above, into the swirls and clouds the books had called "nebulae". "The Blackwyrm," she whispered, reaching up with one trembling finger to trace one particular group of stars. "The great dragon that spreads its wings over the world. Guardian of the Holy Tree, slain in ages past, ascended to protect the night sky itself…."
"So that's where the name comes from," she distantly heard Kirito murmur. "Not sure I'm worthy of that…."
Kizmel spared a moment's attention from the sky to chuckle to herself. Her husband's coat had been broken down and made into newer, stronger coats three times since she'd given him the original Blackwyrm Coat, yet the name remained, as did the dragon embroidered on its back.
It was only a distant thought, though, captivated as she was by the sky above. "Fenris, the wolf that stalks the forests," she breathed, half-stumbling on the stone path leading from the stairs. "Said to hunt the darkest woods of the world below by day, and prowl the stars every night. Artorias, the mighty warrior who, for a time, united Man and Elf in war, until he perished in a battle in the skies above…."
She barely noticed when they reached the edge of the floor, only stopping when they bumped against a railing. Trusting Kirito to keep her safe—always trusting him—she could not tear her eyes from the stars and the twin moons above. This… this was the true form of the world, the one she'd never seen.
Even knowing that the world around her was a construct, in that moment Kizmel couldn't help but wonder what it would've been like, to destroy the evil binding Aincrad and return the Steel Castle's floors to the ground far below. Even knowing it is an illusion, it was worth everything it's cost me to come here.
"It's beautiful," Kirito said quietly, pulling her close by his side. "This is… what this world should've been, I think. A glimpse of it, anyway. This is what we were all looking for, when we first put on the NerveGear."
He knew. He understood. Of course he does. The man who says he lost to this world… of course he would understand how I feel.
Wrapping an arm around Kirito's waist in turn, Kizmel pressed herself close against him, nuzzling her cheek against his. "I believe, Kirito-kun, that this is the finest anniversary present you could've given me," she murmured. "Illusion this may be, but it truly is breathtaking. And if it is but illusion… your world's night must be more amazing, still."
"In its own way, yeah." His hand came up, gently tracing the edge of one of her long, pointed ears. "I'm going to show it to you, Kizmel. I'll make that miracle, and take you to see my sky. I promise."
"I know you will." Warm conviction filled her, and Kizmel pressed a kiss on Kirito's cheek. Looking up and out at the sea of stars, she lost herself in the sky and in her husband's warmth. "…I love you."
Kirito wasn't sure how long he and Kizmel stood at the railing on the Hundredth Floor's edge. He didn't really care, either, captivated as he was by his elven partner and wife's sheer awe. He listened with rapt attention as she pointed out the constellations she'd read in books, regaling him with the tales behind them. This was his Aincrad: the world he shared with the girl he loved. For all the fighting, all the fear, all the loss, the moments he spent absorbed in the world made it all worthwhile.
Only when other Swordmasters finally began to emerge from the stairwell did he turn his attention away from the stars at all. Gently guiding a still-awestruck Kizmel to a nearby bench, he finally began to take in the Hundredth Floor as a whole. His rough estimate was that the floor was about three kilometers across. The stairwell came out into a park occupying a sizable chunk of it; Kirito was surprised to realize he'd missed a [Safe Haven] notice, and felt a flicker of concern. Kayaba really was being suspiciously generous.
Asuna and Rain were the first to come up, followed quickly by Philia, and then Lind and Kibaou. The guild leaders quickly headed toward the small cluster of buildings just south of the park. Though Kirito hadn't seen any NPCs—there was a reasonable chance, he thought, that this floor wouldn't have any, but it was just as possible they just didn't come out at night—he assumed those were what shops and inns the floor had. The largest, built like a small, square fortress, he had a feeling was left there as a meeting place for raids. He'd seen similar on many lower floors.
"Quite a view, huh, guys?" Pulling away from the guilds, Philia trotted over, a warm smile on her face. "If this weren't, y'know, our real lives on the line, I'd think this was a pretty nice cap to the game. Way better than what's below Aincrad, that's for sure."
Kirito shivered at the memory. Technically, he didn't think the Hollow Area was hanging below "their" Aincrad. The visual was still a memorable one, and not in a good way.
"It is a beautiful place," Kizmel said quietly, lowering her gaze from the stars at last. She patted the bench next to her, and when the treasure hunter had sat, the elf girl continued, "However terrible the purposes to which this world was put… I don't believe I could ever deny that it was a labor of love."
"It is," Kirito agreed softly. His gaze turned from the small village toward two rows of trees, bracketing a stone path leading north. "Kayaba wasn't the only one who worked on this. Most of the developers really did just want to make the best game possible. And even Kayaba… well, it's obvious he wanted this world to be real."
For good, or ill. As much as it sometimes made him sick, Kirito understood Kayaba. He knew, in his bones, exactly what had gone into making Aincrad what it was.
"…I truly wish it had not come to this," Kizmel whispered, looking to the north. "This world… were it not a prison, a place of death, it could have been so much more. Knowing what must soon happen to it…." She let out a long, quiet breath. "But that is what must be done. We have come this far. We will not submit."
Kirito followed her gaze, past a mousy head that bounded out of the stairwell and trotted north. Far at the northern end of the Hundredth Floor, at the end of a stone path wide enough for six people to walk abreast, was an edifice he'd only ever seen in pictures, and not in over two years. It towered above everything else on the floor, its red stone walls gleaming under the light of the stars and the moons.
The Ruby Palace. Kayaba is waiting for us there. The last barrier between us and returning to our world. The last obstacle between me, and bringing Kizmel home.
The guild leaders emerged from the village and headed north in Argo's wake. At some point Agil had come up as well, and Kirito wasn't surprised to see Fuurinkazan marching that way. For all that everyone was tense about what was to come, he suspected just about every clearer was going to at least look.
For the time being, he was content to let others explore. In that moment, his concern was the elf girl leaning against him, still watching the stars raptly.
I made a promise. I'm going to keep it.
March 8th, 2025
Seeing the full, open sky of Aincrad was perhaps not as impressive in daylight, but Kizmel still couldn't help gawking when she and Kirito emerged onto the Hundredth Floor once more. Coming out of the Teleport Gate in the middle of the park, her ears twitched at the strong breeze that billowed her cloak and his coat. She stared at the huge cloud formations, and watched as flocks of birds flew freely at heights she could never before have imagined.
Even the towering sight of the Ruby Palace hardly dampened the rush of excitement she felt. Were this truly a world unto itself, she mused, noting with some amusement that even this place had gained some tourists from lower floors, I would be looking for a way to undo the Great Separation, to make such open sky a thing for all in Aincrad to see. This is the world as it was meant to be.
Kizmel found herself humming along to the quiet, soothing melody playing through the park. In that moment, seeing Silica frolicking with Pina by a flowerbed, Strida sitting under a tree while Jaeger stared up at the birds roosting in it, she felt strangely at peace. Though there was a battle coming, perhaps the greatest in her life, she thought she was seeing for the first time what life was meant to be like.
"I'm surprised to see lower-level Swordmasters up here," Kirito murmured in her ear. "I figured most people would be scared to death of the top floor, knowing what's coming."
"Kayaba is fair, whatever his many flaws," she replied, just as quietly. "Events with the Necro plague aside, this world's rules have never changed on a whim. If this place is a Safe Haven now, it's reasonable to assume it will remain so. …Though I admit I wouldn't have expected to see quite so many, myself."
Unlike the Christmas party at Castle Kreutzen, Kizmel didn't see anyone from the lowest ranks of the Swordmasters; not even Sasha's orphans. A fair number of Swordmasters around Silica's level, and members of the Army she knew had never even caught up to mapping strength, were wandering the park. Most of them, she noticed, with gazes turned upward.
"Last night was the first time in my life I saw the open sky, Kirito-kun," she said softly, a smile curling her lips. "Your people… they knew the sky. This is the first time in over two years any of them have seen it. I expect this is, for them, a breath of fresh air. A reminder of the world to which they fight to return."
A year ago, I would've looked at this as something to strive for in this world. Now, I see it as a glimpse of the world that will be mine. Here I see my first tantalizing hint. Tomorrow… tomorrow, I will fight to make the reality mine.
The thought grounded her, and she reluctantly turned away from the park. Looking toward the small settlement at the south end of the floor, Kizmel quickly checked the time and then squared her shoulders. "Come, Kirito. It's almost time for the strategy meeting, and I believe today is not a day to be fashionably late."
"No," Kirito agreed with a sigh, taking her hand as they left the park behind. "I guess it's not. This is probably the most important meeting since the one before Illfang, really."
That, finally, did give her a small chill. Diavel had rallied an understrength raid, and led them into an ultimately victorious battle. But he only led them halfway. Kirito and Asuna were the ones who finished what he began. …I pray the parallel is not an omen of more losses to come.
The two of them were about halfway to the auditorium chosen for the strategy meeting when a single bell rang out of nowhere. Deep and ominous, Kizmel felt a chill at the sound. The effect on the other Swordmasters in the area was more dramatic: shouts of alarm, some bordering on panic, and just about everyone who'd been sitting leapt to their feet, joining the others in frantically looking around.
At her side, Kirito stiffened, face going white. "No," he whispered, eyes wide. "No, not again…!"
She didn't have time to ask him what he meant before the bell was followed a higher-pitched ringing, this time plainly coming from the north. Whipping her head around to look, she was just in time to see a giant image shimmer into existence above the Ruby Palace. A man in a crimson robe, hood drawn back, sat on a ruby throne, a great beast of some kind curled up behind him. A man with steel-gray hair and metallic eyes, and an expression of inhuman curiosity.
"Heathcliff… Kayaba…!" Kirito growled, hands curling into fists; she distantly heard Asuna echo the sentiment.
Kizmel's own gauntleted hands tightened. Kayaba Akihiko…!
"Welcome, Swordmasters," Kayaba's voice boomed out, accompanied by a slow clap. "It's been some time since last we spoke. Congratulations on reaching the One Hundredth Floor. Welcome… to the Pinnacle of Aincrad. You've done well to come so far.
"Fear not, I am not here to announce a new twist in the game. Merely to applaud your efforts. While I did re-balance the final quarter of Aincrad in light of my earlier miscalculation, I certainly did not make things easy. What you've achieved, coming this far, is by your strength alone. Indeed, you have surpassed my expectations wonderfully."
That steel gaze swept over the Hundredth Floor; Kizmel suspected he really was watching them even as he spoke. She also suspected that it was not her imagination that his eyes lingered on Asuna, and then on herself and Kirito. She forced herself to meet that gaze unflinchingly.
Kayaba might've smiled then, faintly. "Now then, Swordmasters. The time has come for the grand finale. The grandest battle the Steel Castle will ever see. A grand challenge, yet fair—I have watched you all for these two years and more, and since your greatest warriors exposed me, I have spent months refining the battle you are about to face. There will be new tactics for you to face, but I assure you, nothing will be out of bounds in this battle. Every skill you've learned, every weapon you've forged, every item you've found… every resource you have at your disposal is yours to use in this battle. Even things I might never have intended to exist in this world." There was definitely a smile on the game master's face this time. "Perhaps especially such. After all, a game is at its most interesting when even its master is surprised.
"Steel yourselves. Prepare as you will, for the greatest battle of your lives. The only restriction is that once the battle begins, the doors will close and teleportation—though not, I assure you, Healing Crystals—will be disabled.
"In the coming battle, the only escape will be victory… or death. Swordmasters, I await you with great anticipation. Show me the true strength of your souls!"
The mood in the great auditorium was a far cry from the relaxed air in the park only minutes before. As Kirito and Kizmel slipped in toward the back, there was a grim quiet, one which reminded him all too much of the meetings before the Seventy-Fifth Floor Boss.
No surprise. That message from Kayaba… I guess it didn't tell us anything we didn't already know, but it sure brought home what we're about to do. I'm not sure that's a good thing.
The auditorium was probably the largest structure on the Hundredth Floor besides the Ruby Palace itself. Kirito estimated it had a capacity of at least five hundred—though in practice, he saw at most about half the seats were filled. Even with stragglers trickling in, he'd have been surprised if it filled up much more. If anything, he was surprised that many had shown up, after Kayaba's dramatic appearance.
Combining the robe from the first day with his Heathcliff avatar? He's got a sick flair for the dramatic, I'll give him that.
In the rows of seats descending toward the stage at the south end, he saw what he thought was the entirety of the Knights of the Blood, along with most of the Divine Dragons Alliance. Something like fifty or sixty of the mappers from the Aincrad Liberation Force made up another chunk of the audience; the rest was a mixture of smaller guilds like Fuurinkazan and a variety of solos. Kirito knew a fair few of them from clearing, and suspected the ones he didn't recognize were there out of morbid curiosity as much as anything else.
Guild leaders dominated the stage despite their small number. On the right wing of the stage, Kibaou, clad not in uniform but the black armor and forest green tunic of the Army's battle gear, represented the ALF, and managed to project a surprising presence himself. Since the fiasco of the Hollow Area and the Army's civil war, the cactus-haired swordsman had thrown himself back into clearing, and emerged solidly as the guild's field leader.
Kibaou was accompanied by a stocky man Kirito didn't know very well, but had seen in raids. Despite the man's large size and larger axe, Kibaou managed to effortlessly overshadow him. That the shorter man was also wearing a thunderous scowl might've been related.
He's got no head for leading outside of a fight—unless you count stirring up riots—but I'll admit he's good at keeping his people in line in a fight these days. I guess none of us are who we were two years ago.
Opposite him on the left side, Lind wore the gray and blue armor of the DDA, a blue-scaled cape made from the hide of a dragon event boss he'd personally killed on the Eighty-Ninth Floor, and an expression that wasn't quite as impassive as he probably meant it to be. Kirito had to give him credit for the effort, though. The man still had an ego, but he was much more self-aware about it than he used to be, and in general was much calmer and more collected than the days of his rivalry with Kibaou.
Schmitt doesn't look quite as comfortable, Kirito noticed, seeing the tank shifting uneasily in Lind's shadow. Not that he ever is. Gotta give him credit for being here at all, with how bad his nerves are.
Front and center, flanked by Rain in the blood-red greatcoat she'd favored lately, Asuna stood tall at the podium. Her red-trimmed white uniform hadn't changed much since the Seventy-Fifth Floor, but now she was wearing a cloak over it. Brilliant white with a blood-red lining, just seeing it gave Kirito a pang. Much flashier than what he'd seen before, it still made her look achingly like she had back when they were partners.
When it seemed like everyone who was going to arrive had done so, Asuna cleared her throat. "Thank you all for coming," she began, softly but pitched to carry across the open space. "Most of you, I'm sure, saw Kayaba's announcement a few minutes ago. For those who didn't, I'll summarize: Kayaba as much as dared as us to bring everything we have into the final battle, because it's going to be the 'grandest' yet. And there will be no scouting, nor retreat."
Few stirred. Kirito wasn't surprised. Kayaba really hadn't told them anything they hadn't already known or suspected, except that Healing Crystals wouldn't be affected by the inevitable anti-crystal trap. Which, if anything, made him even more nervous.
"I'm going to be honest," Asuna continued, sweeping her amber eyes over her audience. "This is going to be difficult. If Kayaba is to be believed—and here, going by precedent, I believe he should be—it will be fairer than the Skull Reaper, but that's the only break we're likely to get."
"An' let's not forget we're talkin' about Kayaba's idea of 'fair'," Kibaou put in, folding his arms. "'Fair' fer a quarter-boss and 'fair' fer a final boss might not be the same thing."
Asuna's composure cracked for a moment, a grimace that Kirito suspected most people didn't even see. She didn't correct or reprimand Kibaou, though, which made his hair stand on end.
"Colonel Kibaou is correct," she said heavily. "Nevertheless," she went on, squaring her shoulders, "the fact is that we've come this far. We cannot, and will not, submit. This is the final battle: the very last obstacle between us and returning to the real world. A battle we can't walk away from, and a battle we have to fight now."
Kirito exchanged a concerned look with Kizmel. Asuna was doing her best to rally people, but she didn't have the strength or clear force of will he was used to. This isn't like any other battle, though, he reminded himself. This is the big one. She's scared. I'm scared. Sure, Kayaba's supposedly re-balanced things since the Skull Reaper, but Kibaou's right, too. Whatever happens, this is going to be bad.
He could tell he wasn't the only one having those thoughts, from the muttering and shifting in the audience. It was Agil, though, who raised a hand, silencing most of it. "'Scuse me, Commander," he called out. "But who says we have to do it now? Yeah, sure, we don't wanna take long, but more leveling, maybe grinding for better weapons and armor…?"
Asuna shook her head. "We're already reaching diminishing returns on both. In fact, Kirito-kun and Kizmel finally discovered SAO's level cap last week." She looked past the audience, locking eyes with Kirito. "Kirito-kun. I'm sorry, normally I wouldn't even bring it up…."
He quickly waved a hand. This once, it was something everyone needed to know. Besides, it's not going to matter much longer anyway. One way or another, this is almost over.
Sighing, Asuna returned her attention to the crowd at large. "The maximum level is One-Twenty," she announced. "As far as I'm aware, Kirito-kun and Kizmel are the only players to have reached it so far, but most of us who consistently participate in boss raids aren't far behind."
More muttering among the assembled Swordmasters. Kirito couldn't blame them. Sword Art Online didn't level-scale its enemies, so level-grinding had always been a consistent means of ensuring a safety margin. It might be time-consuming, especially since that very lack of level-scaling meant hitting a truly impractical experience requirement was inevitable, but it was generally thought that delaying a raid was better than dying. Kirito himself had survived more than one battle simply because his enemies were physically incapable of overcoming his stats and Battle Healing.
"That's not good," Klein remarked, above the hubbub. Kirito couldn't see his expression from where he stood, but he could easily imagine the worried frown on the samurai's face. "Ten levels above the floor number was the old conventional wisdom for safe clearing, but the last twenty-odd floors have called for more. Sure, that's twenty levels above this, but…."
"I know. Maybe worse, according to Kirito-kun and Kizmel, the stat gains between levels are a lot lower for the last five or so." Asuna's face took on a cool, controlled expression Kirito knew masked her own unease, projecting as much confidence as she could. The face of a Commander in a tight spot. "In my opinion, the difference is not enough to justify the delay. Likewise any significant improvements to gear. The truth is, some of us are running out of time.
"People are starting to die. From outside the game."
Dead silence. Kirito felt his own blood run cold, and he groped blindly for Kizmel's hand. She met him halfway, and he felt a tremor in her fingers. Though she had no flesh-and-blood body, she knew well the implications. She called me out for forgetting, the night before the Skull Reaper.
The invisible time limit they'd all, intellectually, known about from the very first day. Their real bodies were lying comatose on hospital beds, not truly in comas but still immobile and doubtless relying on intravenous feeding. It was easy to forget, in Aincrad's amazing realism. He doubted most Swordmasters had thought of it in a year or more. Yet it was always there: the knowledge that the human body was not meant to be comatose so long.
And that sooner or later, the plug will be pulled. Even the government can't keep thousands of people on life support forever. If people start dying on their own, apart from the NerveGear, the government might start wondering if it's still worth it.
"You're sure about that?" a voice finally called. Godfree, Kirito noticed, looking very pale, voice shaking. Apparently the information hadn't been widely known even within the KoB. "There's a lot of ways to die in here. Might've been poison, or else—"
"Two days ago, a player died within a Safe Haven," Rain interrupted flatly, stepping up to the podium herself. "After the initial panic that another exploit had been found, someone thought to check the Monument of Life. The cause of death listed was [Wasted Away In Another World]. Players who were close to the deceased confirmed he had health problems IRL that would've been exacerbated by an extended coma."
More silence. Kirito noticed many of the Swordmasters glancing at each; he could easily guess what they were thinking. Probably the same thing he was: wondering how many of them were also closing in on the edge, about to run out of time. Not that many, probably. Maybe just a tiny handful. Maybe nobody in that room. But some are, and each one makes it more likely whoever's taking care of us IRL will start making hard decisions.
They really were running out of time. Caught between a final boss they weren't sure they could beat but couldn't really do much more to prepare for, and a hard limit none of them could beat. Kirito couldn't help but notice, in that, the irony that with what they'd learned about her, Kizmel probably had the highest chance of survival of any of them.
"There you have it," Asuna said, after a long silence. Still standing tall, her own anxiety only visible to those who knew her best, she swept her gaze over the gathered Swordmasters again. "We have a time limit. We're about as prepared as we can feasibly be. I know we're going to be fighting the hardest battle ever. I know… not all of us will likely come out of it alive. But we have to fight it. We have to win it. Who stands with me?"
Any other time, Kirito thought Asuna could've gotten the whole room to volunteer. Maybe even against a quarter-boss. She'd displayed a talent for inspiring people all the way back in the battle against Illfang, and she'd added to it in the years since by proving herself a skilled tactician. If anyone could've inspired people to launch a do-or-die assault on a Final Boss, it was Asuna.
No one moved. For a long stretch, for an endless moment, no one stirred. They looked at each other. They shifted in their seats. Kirito thought he saw Klein getting ready to stand, but something held even him back; maybe, Kirito thought, recognizing the futility if only Fuurinkazan and a few guild leaders stepped up.
And Asuna was trembling, too. In that moment, Kirito remembered she was just a teenage girl herself, barely older than he was. She'd seen more battles than most soldiers ever would, but in the end she was no more mature than he was. If I'm this scared, she must be terrified. Just like the rest of us. How are we supposed to fight when most of us are scared stiff?
When a minute passed, and then two, with no response, Asuna's head began to droop, finally losing her Commander's composure. In that moment, Kirito heard a deep breath from his side, and Kizmel gently squeezed his hand—and then her fingers slipped from his, and she stepped away.
Not to leave, though. He watched, transfixed, as the Dark Elf Swordmaster who'd once been a Royal Guard walked down into the center aisle, between the auditorium seats. Her armored boots rang on the floor, the only sound, and heads began to turn as she strode down. Head held high, purple cape flowing behind her, Kizmel passed through the throng of Swordmasters, and then nimbly leapt up onto the stage.
Even after nearly two years as an active member of the clearing group, few people truly knew Kizmel. By this time, though, Kirito doubted there was anyone on the frontlines who didn't at least know who she was—and that she mostly stayed out of the spotlight, much as the "Beater" did. They were wondering, he was sure, what she was doing. So, from the confused look on her face, was Asuna.
So am I. …But I have to see.
"Swordmasters," Kizmel called out, contralto carrying clearly through the auditorium. "By now, you all know at least something about me. I am Kizmel, former Royal Guard of the Pagoda Knights Brigade, of the Kingdom of Lyusula. As you would say, an NPC. Yet also, for the past year and more, a Swordmaster in my own right. Though I am, even now, not quite as you are, I have fought beside you through many battles now. Today, on the eve of our greatest battle, I would ask you to listen to me."
There was another round of muttering, mostly among the Army mappers and some of the more elitist members of the KoB and DDA. People who either didn't know Kizmel's history, or still didn't quite believe she was anything more than an NPC. Some of it was quickly silenced, with a clong announcing Agil had smacked an Army mapper's helmet, but that drew a few curses into the mix.
"Quiet!" Lind abruptly barked out, stepping up to rap an armored fist on the podium. "Lady Kizmel has earned our attention—more than many of you ever have. Let her speak!"
Well. Maybe Lind's not so bad after all.
In the startled silence, Kizmel gave Lind a grateful nod. "Thank you, Guildmaster. Swordmasters," she continued, returning her attention to the audience, "I know well that my world is a construct. Yet I have studied your history, and I know now that Kayaba built this world as much on reality as he could. So I know war. Intimately. I know its costs. I know what it is to fear for my life, for the lives of those I love… and to lose them." There was a sadness in violet eyes, one Kirito recognized easily. "My sister, Tilnel—the only other person in this world like me—died shortly before I first met Swordmasters. I know the risks you—we—face, going into Kayaba's final challenge."
Conviction. Pure conviction. If Kirito hadn't already known for over two years she was more than a program, if he hadn't learned her exact nature already, he would've known in that moment she was no mere chatbot. Looking over the audience, he could see even some of the doubters were beginning to fall under her spell, little by little.
"I know the pain, and the fear," Kizmel told them. Back straight and proud, she began to pace the stage. "Yet I also know this: that you have people waiting for you in your world. Friends. Family. Lovers. People who have waited for you for two years and more. And in that time, I have seen how far you all have come. From terrified gamers, trapped on the First Floor of the Steel Castle, to hardened warriors. Two years ago and more, hardly any of you dared even to venture beyond the safety of the City of Beginnings, knowing that death awaited a single mistake.
"And then Sir Diavel stood before you, much as Asuna does today. A self-proclaimed knight, perhaps, but that was what you had. That was what you needed. He stepped into the role, and led less than a full raid of you into battle with Illfang the Kobold Lord."
A few heads nodded. Kirito found himself doing so as well, though he wondered how many of them had the least inkling of the truth about Diavel. He'd done his best, yes, but behind the scenes, he hadn't been quite the Knight in Shining Armor most remembered him to be.
"Sir Diavel died in that battle, yes," Kizmel acknowledged, turning on her heel. Hands clasped behind her back, she strode toward the other end of the stage, passing by Lind. "But he did not go gentle into that good night. He fought to the end, leaving Kirito and Asuna to lead you to victory. From there, others took up the challenge." She brought one hand forward, pointing first at Lind, then at a somewhat bemused Kibaou. "You followed Sir Diavel's example. Whatever squabbles and rivalries you had along the way, you burned against the closing of day. By the time I joined you, for all that you'd suffered terrible losses, you had become warriors that confidently fought against everything that stood against you. Even when one of your guilds was nearly shattered, you carried the day."
The Adamantine Arachnid. Kirito wasn't surprised to see Kibaou flinch. He had led that disastrous, reckless raid, and lost half his guild before reinforcements arrived. But Kizmel's right. We did win. And we never suffered losses close to that again, until the Skull Reaper.
"Nearly two years since, you—we—have conquered everything Kayaba Akihiko has thrown at us." Spinning again, Kizmel marched to the podium, and rested a hand on a mildly bewildered Asuna's shoulder. "We have become warriors even beyond Kayaba's expectations. We defeated a monster even he believed 'too much'. When he was revealed as the true face of our greatest hero, we kept on. Asuna stepped forth, took his place, becoming the Commander of the Knights of the Blood he only pretended to be. We fought through disasters even Kayaba never anticipated, from a plague of undead to a threat to Aincrad itself."
PoH and Laughing Coffin's schemes. Kirito wasn't surprised to see a few people, especially in the DDA, shudder. Few of them had been involved in the worst of the Hollow Area. Everyone knew why the Fifty-Seventh Floor had been totally abandoned.
"We have lost many," Kizmel said, voice beginning to rise. "Yet we have endured. Persevered. Conquered. We have exceeded the plans of the twisted man who trapped us all in this world. Now, my comrades, my friends, we stand before one final challenge. Six thousand lives still ride on our shoulders, waiting to reunite with those left behind in another world. Now, once more, let us rage against the dying of the light!" She swept her hand down, opening her menu; armored fingers deftly swept through it, seeking something even Kirito couldn't guess. "Let us face the man who betrayed us all, trapped us all, and show him he is a creator, not a warrior, and that true Swordmasters are more than his match! Those of you who have pride in your swords, unite under this banner!"
Kirito's breath caught—and then he joined in the collective gasp, as a long pole materialized in Kizmel's hand. No, not a pole. Not a spear. That's…!
Three meters long. Pointed, yet not truly a weapon. Mounted on one end of the mirror-silver shaft was a pure white triangular banner, with a filigreed border. By the system's rules, it was technically considered a spear, but its stats were abysmal. Its true value lay elsewhere.
The Flag of Valor. An item that would boost the stats of all members of the guild that owned it, within a certain range. Kirito had been carrying it since the Fifth Floor, unused. So long as the clearing guilds refused to unite, it was nearly worthless. He'd barely thought about it in years, and hadn't even seen it since before Kizmel joined him on the Twenty-Sixth Floor.
"Stand under this banner," Kizmel said, chin raised proudly. She planted the Flag of Valor on the stage with a ringing clang. "Unite, at the coming of the Steel Castle's end. Strike down Kayaba Akihiko with your own swords. Win."
Silence. Utter, complete silence. Then, Kirito heard someone begin to clap. He was startled to realize it was himself, and even more startled when Kibaou was the first to join him. Then Asuna, and Lind; Rain, and Klein. It spread through the guild representatives, and then into the rest of the audience, filling the whole room.
One thing Aincrad had never seen much of was speeches. Kayaba, as Heathcliff, had made the effort a time or two, as had Asuna. Not often, and mostly improvised to rally a raid before it could collapse. Kizmel nailed it, Kirito thought, clapping as hard as he ever had in his life. She knew what we all needed to hear. And all of it was nothing but the truth.
…I love that girl so much….
"All right," Asuna said, allowing herself to sag in her chair with a tired sigh. "That's a full forty-eight. Kizmel's speech got us enough volunteers to have our pick. …For a minute there, I thought we weren't going to get any. I was starting to wonder if I could handle the pressure."
With morale buoyed by Kizmel's impromptu performance, the auditorium had emptied out, with most Swordmasters going out to spread the word or take care of what preparations they could before the battle. The guild leaders, a couple of their subordinates, and Kirito and Kizmel had then retired to meeting room in the back of the building. Somehow, Kirito hadn't been surprised to find Argo already there, sprawled in a chair and feet propped on the circular table in the middle of the room.
"That was touch and go, for sure," the Rat said then, nodding sagely. "And don't look at me like that," she added, when eyes turned to her. "I was watchin' from a hidden balcony. Didn't think me bein' on stage would help the mood, but I was there. Great speech, Kii-chan!"
"Thank you, Argo," Kizmel said graciously, inclining her head. "Though I must admit," she continued, with a wry smile, "I'm not certain I could've done that at any other time. I'm not exactly accustomed to publicly speaking, to tell the truth. The needs of the moment were all that overcame my… stage fright, I believe you'd call it?"
Kibaou snorted, propping his chin on his hand, elbow braced on the table. "Coulda fooled me. I'll take yer speeches over anything Blackie here ever pulled. He always just made us too mad to let 'im get ahead of us."
Kirito wanted to shrink into his collar. I mean, he's not wrong, but…. I haven't done that in ages. Um, have I?
"You have to admit, Kibaou, we probably both deserved it back then," Lind pointed out. He'd taken off his heavy cape, and for once wasn't even trying to project the air of Diavel's knightly successor. Probably, Kirito figured, he was as tired as any of them. "Speaking of which, Kirito. You really still had the Flag of Valor after all this time?"
"It's not like I was going to just throw away an item like that," Kirito said, with an awkward shrug. "At first I figured somebody would have a use for it, someday. And then… well, I kinda forgot about it."
"We're all fortunate, then. Despite the Flag's activation conditions." Lind looked over the assembled leaders, appraising them. "We're all agreed, then? To merge the raiders participating into a single guild?"
"The Knights of the Blood are in," Asuna confirmed. She smiled ruefully. "Not that I'm sure everyone is happy about this—Godfree-san looked like he wanted to say something he shouldn't, and Kuradeel seems to have swallowed a whole bag of lemons—but we're in. It's ridiculous to be concerned about guild affiliation when this is supposed to be the final battle."
Looking around at the collection of KoB, DDA, Army, and independents, Kirito felt genuinely relieved that such was the case. Knowing so many of them as well as he did, he was pretty sure that even the prospect of ending the game with the next battle wouldn't have gotten them all united just a few months before.
The Seventy-Fifth Floor and its immediate aftermath, he supposed, had changed a lot of things. Still, I have to wonder….
Against his own instincts, he cleared his throat. "Okay, so, everybody's going to be in one guild for this. Even me, which is going to feel really weird… but which guild?" He glanced around, thinking uneasily of the personality conflicts he'd seen play out for over two years. "Someone has to be on top, right?"
"I've been thinking of that," Lind said, clasping his hands under his chin. "Given the… disagreements we've all had over the years, I would suggest that we not use any one existing guild. For the final battle, if only to make sure no one has any unfortunate resentment, I submit we should form an entirely new guild."
"Something where nobody has any personal stake?" Klein tapped the table, looking so thoughtful Kirito was tempted to check and make sure he hadn't been replaced by some kind of doppelgänger monster. "I can get behind that. Kinda hate to see Fuurinkazan go, but my ego ain't worth risking the most important raid ever. Everybody should probably keep their current colors, though. Make it easier to keep track of who's who in the fight."
"Agreed." Kizmel shot a glance at Kirito, and smirked. "Some of us, I fear, would be too uncomfortable in new colors to fight without distraction." She let him squirm for a moment, before adding, "Also, attempting to unify colors, let alone establish consistent armor, would take resources and time we can ill afford to waste now."
Kirito considered for a moment longer the idea of himself in KoB white, and shuddered. No, he didn't like that idea at all. And not just because I've been wearing nothing but black since Illfang. Nope, that's not it at all.
"Speaking of resources," Rain put in, looking oddly cautious, "this might be a good time to pool those, too. We want everybody at their best. One raider being under-geared because they didn't have quite enough mats for one last upgrade would kinda suck."
There was only brief discussion over that, before even Lind and Kibaou agreed. Without, Kirito was surprised to see, any particular resentment from the DDA leader. He remembered all too well when the Divine Dragons' defining principle was outfitting a single elite group to push ahead of everyone else, while the ALS had advocated equal distribution.
Then again, this is about outfitting a single elite group, isn't it?
"The guild will need a singular leader," Kizmel pointed out, once the issue of resources had been settled. "Now, never having been part of a guild, perhaps it's not my place to say, but given past experiences in raids, I would nominate Asuna for the position. This is, after all, all about one last raid."
"I have no objection," Lind said immediately, nodding to the KoB Commander. "We've had our differences, Commander, but you've always proven yourself in battle. More, by now most clearers are accustomed to you leading in the raids." He paused, and when even Kibaou nodded—if a little grumpily—he went on, "That does leave the question of names. Even if it's only for one raid, I don't think we want simply a placeholder."
"You've got a point there," Kirito said quietly. "Symbols are important." He knew that well. Maybe better than almost anyone in the room. He didn't know people all that well, maybe, but he'd learned a few things about crowds. That was why he'd played the role of the Beater, after all.
There was silence for a few moments as they all mulled it over. Kirito, for one was drawing a blank—all his monikers had been given to him by others. I never was any good at naming. Except, maybe… Ebon Knights? He glanced at Kizmel, taking in the dusky skin and long, pointed ears that had come to define the world for him. We'd never have gotten this far without the Dark Elf quest. Using the theme from the Royal Guard might be a nice touch.
He was about to voice the idea, tentatively, when Kibaou suddenly snorted. "Aw, what the hell," he said, with a crooked smile. "End of the line, right? How 'bout… the Black Beaters."
Kirito choked. "Wait, wait, that's not—"
"Hm." Lind gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "It does have the advantage of having no connection with any existing guild. I don't know of any formal guild associated with black."
"Black goes with everything," Klein said sagely, clearly struggling—and losing the struggle—not to smile.
"It's marketable!" Argo burst out, cackling. "Call the guild that, an' Argo-nee-chan can sell merchandise an' get the raid more Cor by sundown!"
"It's perfect," Asuna said, with a slow, almost smug smile. "It's about time the people who worked behind the scenes all this time got a little recognition. Especially," she added, quirking an eyebrow at Lind and Kibaou both, "after certain things that were said in the early days."
"Now, wait just a—"
"I'm sorry, Kirito," Kizmel interrupted him, smiling mischievously, "but I believe you've been outvoted."
"…You're all crazy!"
A lot of things had changed, as the clearers had climbed the final quarter of Aincrad. One thing that had stayed the same, Kirito was always happy to see, was a certain thatch-roofed cottage on the Forty-Eighth Floor. Small, cozy, with a distinctive waterwheel attached to one side, it stood on the outskirts of the town of Lindarth, seemingly out of the way yet seldom lacking in visitors.
After the insanity of the meeting he'd just escaped, he wanted comfortable and familiar.
As Kirito and Kizmel crossed the bridge over the stream separating the house from the rest of town, he wasn't surprised to see a couple of the Legend Braves just leaving. He exchanged quick nods with them, glad to see they really were taking things seriously. I was afraid that after the enthusiasm wore off, people might start backing out. Guess not.
"We'd best be quick," Kizmel murmured, accompanying him onto the house's porch. "I suspect Liz is having quite a busy day."
"If we're lucky, yeah," he muttered back. Stepping past the sign proclaiming Lisbeth's Weapon Shop, he opened the door for the elf girl and then quickly followed her in. "Hey, Liz! How's business today?"
"A headache!" the pink-haired girl he could just barely see in the next room called back. "I've had to tell at least twenty people today that clearers take priority right now, and those ones better be on the list I got from Asuna for tomorrow's raid." She huffed, hammering away at something he couldn't see from his angle. "You'd think people would understand what's going on, but nooo, some of 'em are just too important to wait in line…." An especially vicious clang rang out, and then she freed up one hand to beckon them. "C'mon in! I know you've got a special order waiting, Kirito."
The two of them dutifully marched into the smithy proper, where Lisbeth was just finishing work on a one-handed hammer. Something she was doing in-between raid customers, Kirito figured, since he didn't remember any macers being on the roster besides Naijan, who used a two-handed weapon. There shouldn't be any need for that after tomorrow, but… well, sane Swordmasters won't be taking chances.
"You should be flattered, Liz," Kizmel mock-chided, smiling at the blacksmith. "At a moment like this, you are the smith everyone turns to. Your reputation in the Steel Castle is without rival now."
"Any other day, sure. Today I'm busy." Lisbeth still puffed up with obvious pride, though. Well-earned pride, Kirito had to admit. Lisbeth had only briefly dabbled in clearing, well over a year before, but her products were still what the smart clearers relied on. "So?" she said, holding out a hand. "Hand it over, Kirito. I finally got the last mats just yesterday, and I'm itching to see what comes out."
He quickly raised his hands, warding off her intensity. "Whoa, whoa. One thing at a time, Liz. That's important, sure, but Kizmel's armor comes first." He gestured to the Dark Elf, who was already digging into their inventory for the mats she'd gathered. "The best weapons don't matter much if we can't take hits."
That had been burned into his very soul after Kizmel's duel with Kayaba. Seeing her armor shatter so easily, and what had come after…. The idea of it happening again terrified Kirito to the core. Lucky me, Kizmel doesn't want to leave me behind, either. She's a knight, and I'd never have her any other way, but I'm glad she's just a little more selfish now.
Not selfish enough that she hadn't insisted on making sure his latest coat was in tip-top shape first, of course. But his first defense was killing the enemy before it could kill him, and his second defense was speed. Armor was easy, for him.
"Fair," Lisbeth said after a moment, with a grudging nod—a nod softened by the gentle look in her eyes. She'd known them for a long time, after all, and had at least glimpsed from afar some of what they got into. She understood.
So before getting to the special project Liz was so eager to begin, Kizmel's current armor was melted down, along with two ingots of adamantine they'd acquired with no small difficulty from the Ninety-Ninth Floor and some strange blue-black material Lisbeth tossed in. Kizmel had a bittersweet look in her eyes as she handed over the final ingredient, an ingredient that made Kirito strongly suspect this particular crafting recipe was one Kayaba had created personally: her old armor, from her days as a Pagoda Knight.
By rights, something from the Ninth Floor should've been completely useless for a max-level armor recipe. When the recipe's flavor text outright called it [The ultimate armor of an elven Knight Errant], it made perfect sense.
A few minutes later, Liz pulled the result from the forge—with some difficulty, telling Kirito that it was pretty heavy. "Ooh, this looks nice," she breathed, tapping the new armor to check its stats. "Adamantine Honor Guard Armor. Good thing you're at the level cap, though, the STR needed to wear this is crazy…. High resistance to fire and corrosion, and even a decent bonus to lightning resistance. C'mon, Kizmel, try it on!"
Chuckling at the smith's enthusiasm, Kizmel took the armor—with considerably less trouble than Liz—and quickly set it in her torso slot. A bright blue flash later, and her classic purple tunic was covered in something much tougher. "Oh, my," she murmured, shifting her shoulders and examining the new armor with interest. "This is very nice indeed, Liz." She chuckled again. "And now Kirito and I match quite nicely."
He had to agree with her on that. The Adamantine Honor Guard Armor was a pure, glossy black, covering her from waist to throat in segmented armor. Sections of it extended down to cover her biceps, leaving her just enough freedom of movement for her usual fighting style while still protecting her more than most of her older armor sets had.
Kinda worried about the high fire resistance, though. What are we going to be facing tomorrow?
Shaking that off, Kirito focused on the armor itself again, and couldn't hold back a smile. As with most armor in Aincrad, it didn't hug the figure unrealistically the way it would in many games, but it suited the beautiful elf nicely. On anyone else—like him—it would've looked like the armor of a major villain. On her, it was just… perfect. "That looks great," he said quietly. "Really great." He glanced over at the smith, who was watching with a proud smile. "Very nice, Liz. Thanks."
"The best reward for a smith is a job well done," Lisbeth said haughtily. "I've got a little more of that to work on, too, so don't rush out. But first—gimme, Kirito!"
Kizmel shook her head, grinning, at the smith's demand. Kirito only rolled his eyes, opened up his menu, and materialized a single item. "Okay, okay. Just don't drop it, all right?"
Lisbeth took the sword with a sniff, hefting it with ease. "I may not be a clearer, but my STR's a lot higher than it used to be, Kirito. A sword from fifty floors ago won't bother me." She ran a greedy gaze down the sword's pitch-black blade. "Oh, I've been waiting to do this…."
Elucidator. The Demon-class weapon Kirito had received as the Last Attack Bonus from Vemacitrin on the Fiftieth Floor, it had taken him another seven floors to be able to use it. It had been one of his primary weapons for another thirty floors after that, but even it had finally reached its limits around the Ninetieth Floor. He'd never thought he'd have much use for it again.
Until Lisbeth had discovered a crafting recipe that called for it. The look on her face when she'd revealed that to him had kind of scared him, to be honest. He knew that she'd always hated the weapon, professionally, but he hadn't known quite how much until she'd been presented with the chance to destroy it.
"This is it," Lisbeth whispered, almost crooning. "Today I prove crafting can create better weapons than any drop. Without cheating with dummied-out mats."
Then, with obvious glee, she thrust the weapon into the forge. The blue flames that marked her personal forge—the lingering effects of Hyrus' Forge, gifted to her to temper another sword a year before—flared bright, consuming Elucidator entirely. That much, they'd all more or less expected. The cloud of black smoke that promptly billowed out, not so much.
Kirito hurriedly moved to open a window, letting the noxious cloud stream outside. Kizmel quickly joined him, gulping down as much clean air as she could. Lisbeth, meanwhile, endured it, despite a coughing fit of her own, apparently intent on watching Elucidator's demise. Or, he supposed, just being professional—she did need to know when to take out what was left of the weapon, after all.
When the smoke had mostly cleared, he looked back just in time to see Liz toss a couple of odd deep blue ingots into the forge. What they were for—or even what they were—he couldn't guess. She'd been oddly secretive about what, exactly, she was creating.
After about three minutes, Liz thrust her blacksmith's tongs into the forge, pulling free a large, blue-black ingot. Setting it on her anvil, she swapped out the tongs for a gleaming mythril smith's hammer, and took a deep breath. "Well," she whispered, "here goes."
Smithing wasn't his area. Really, the only non-combat skill Kirito knew at all was Massage; even Asuna's Cooking was pretty Byzantine, from his perspective. What he did know was that, at least on paper, all a smith really did was hit the ingot a set number of times, with no real skill involved.
Watching Lisbeth bring her hammer down, over and over again, in a rhythm that was uniquely hers, he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to it than that. It would be just like Kayaba. He wanted as much of this world to be "unique" as possible. And… sometimes I can't help but think there's more to this world than just programming.
Kirito felt just a trace of anxiety, watching as Liz brought the hammer down. He'd sacrificed a weapon that had served him well for almost a year, gambling that he could get something better from its loss. Something that would be good enough for the very last battle. Something to match Dark Repulser, a weapon forged in the heart of a star in a place Swordmasters had never been meant to reach.
There was no failure state for weapon creation. That didn't mean the results would live up to the ingredients.
"Trust her," Kizmel whispered in his ear, as the hammering went on, and on. Her gauntleted hand gripped his, fingers intertwining with his. "She has never failed us before. She will not fail us now."
Taking in his wife's warmth, even through the armor covering her fingers, Kirito forced himself to relax. She was right, after all. Lisbeth was the master smith who had forged a weapon even from materials not meant to exist in the final version of SAO. A "normal" recipe was going to be easy, for her.
Clang. Clang. Clang. Face sharp with pure intent, Lisbeth's mythril hammer rang against the ingot with a steady, monotonous rhythm. Fifty times. One hundred. Two hundred. Kirito, as focused on the act as the smith herself, couldn't help but keep count, and tension began to grip him again as that count rose. Not so much fear, now, but anticipation. Three hundred times—that was how many hammer-blows it had taken to forge Dark Repulser.
This weapon took that, and more. By the time Liz's hammer had struck three hundred fifty times, all he could see was the ingot. At four hundred, all he could hear was the ringing of the hammer. Time had ceased to matter.
Five hundred times, the hammer came down. Then, finally, a silvery gleam rose from the ingot. Lisbeth's hammer came to a rest, and the ingot began to stretch, flowing out from the basic rectangle into a cruciform shape. The glow darkened, turning a blue-black much like the ingot itself, enveloping metal and anvil alike.
Kirito didn't quite see what the shape settled on, when the glow faded. Before he could get a good look, Lisbeth laid out more materials on it, and quickly went back to hammering. He glanced quickly at Kizmel, only to get a puzzled look in return. He hadn't even had a chance to examine the sword, let alone choose any upgrades for it, but the smith apparently had ideas of her own.
He didn't protest, though. He'd learned early in the Elf War quest to trust the judgment of a good blacksmith. If Liz thought it should be tempered a certain way, he was going to let her do it. Whatever she charged, he'd gladly pay. For the battle that was coming, he wanted only the best.
One thing Kirito quickly determined was that the new sword had quite a few upgrade attempts. He lost count how many Liz applied to it, but it took her a good five minutes to do it all.
Then, finally, Lisbeth set aside her hammer. "There," she breathed, sounding worn out despite Aincrad's lack of physical fatigue. "It's done, Kirito. My masterpiece." With a grunt of effort, she hefted the sword in both hands, and held it out to him. "This is the strongest one-handed sword I've ever forged. I don't think you could use it without your STR. So here it is, Kirito. The Demon-class sword Revelator."
Revelator. Kirito wrapped his fingers around the hilt—covered in what he realized wasn't leather, but dragonhide, much like his coat. Heavy, just the way he liked it. The crossguard, if he was any judge, was blackened dragonbone; the long, narrow blade was a black so deep as to have a faint blue gleam. Resembling black Damascus steel, the whirling patterns gleamed strangely in the light.
"Beautiful," Kizmel murmured, reaching over to run one armored finger down the sword's blood groove. "And very fitting, I think. …Dragonsteel?"
"Made from the metal bones of the Iron Dragon," Lisbeth confirmed, looking quite proud of herself. "A quest boss Fuurinkazan took down a couple weeks back. Metal bones—I put some of it in that Honor Guard armor, too. Really good stuff." Glancing between Kizmel's armor and the new sword, the smith sighed wistfully. "Only problem is, I only ever found a couple crafting recipes that even use it. 'Course, I'd run out just trying to outfit one raid, even if I did have more recipes…."
Fuurinkazan. Kirito couldn't help a bittersweet smile. Klein and Sachi are still looking after me, huh?
Vowing to thank the samurai when he had the chance, he looked up from Revelator to Lisbeth. "I appreciate it, Liz. Really. This and Kizmel's new armor…. How much do we owe you?" He was sure it would quite the bill, especially with all the upgrades Liz had tossed into Revelator. He was also sure it would be worth it, even if it bankrupted him.
Lisbeth snorted. "Are you nuts, Kirito? Tomorrow's the final boss. Do or die time. If you win, I won't be needing Cor anymore. If you lose…." She trailed off, and shook her head. "Forget it. Forging and tempering is free, for anyone in tomorrow's raid. All you owe me… is winning." Liz suddenly reached out and grabbed his free hand, clutching at Kizmel's with the other. "Win… and come back alive! You hear me? Someday I'm gonna have my own shop in the real world, and you're gonna be there to be my first customers, dammit!"
"We'll hold the fort tonight. Go on, you guys have fun!"
"Yeah. Tonight, of all nights… you two should be together. Besides, it's your anniversary, right? Don't worry about us. This is your night."
Kirito and Kizmel hadn't really put up more than a token protest to Philia and Rain's insistence that they go off by themselves for the night before the battle. With only a little encouragement, they'd taken Black Cat out, sailing away from their team's little island. Close to midnight, they brought the boat to rest close to the Fifty-First Flood's western edge, where they had as clear a view of the stars as was possible below the Steel Castle's very top.
By the time Kirito finished taking down the sails, Kizmel had dropped the anchor, turning Black Cat into a safe zone. When he stepped away from the mast, she was standing at the prow, leaning against the railing. Bathed in moonlight, she made a striking sight, taking his breath away as much as she ever had.
He took a few moments to take in that sight, before going to join her. As usual on the perpetually-warm Fifty-First Floor, she wore her purple bikini, showing off dusky skin, soft curves, and the toned muscle of an athlete. Surprising him, in the few moments he'd been busy with the sails, she'd changed her hairstyle, her usual chin-length hair replaced with a ponytail down to the small of her back that formed a gentle violet wave in the breeze.
Kirito decided, after a moment's awed study, that he liked the look.
As he quietly approached her, he realized she was singing to herself, very softly. "Rest, O weary souls… hm-mm-hm… as it sinks into twilight…." She breathed out a quiet sigh. "No, I still can't quite remember…."
She didn't flinch when he came up beside her, only leaning into him, humming in approval as he reached over to run a hand through her ponytail. "I like the new hair," he said, enjoying the feel of it brushing over his fingers. "Any particular reason?"
"Everything is about to change," she replied quietly, resting her head against his shoulder. "I feel that changing myself is… appropriate. A declaration that I will soon greet a new world, and start a new life for myself. A declaration of victory, you might say." She turned her head enough to favor him with a gentle smile. "I'm glad you approve, Kirito-kun. I'd hoped you would."
"It looks great on you," he said honestly. "…And the song?"
Her smile turned bittersweet. "Something my mother sang to me, long ago. I always found it so soothing… but now, I find that I can hardly remember the words. It's simply been far too long, I suppose." She sighed. "And now there is no one left to ask."
Um. Well…. Kirito reached back into long-disused folders in his memory, reaching for things he hadn't thought about since getting trapped in Sword Art Online. Awkwardly, he cleared his throat, and began to sing—something he would never have done if anyone else had been around, but couldn't stop himself from doing when Kizmel looked so sad. When she looked at him, speechless, he didn't stop, even if his rusty memory left him to falter in places.
She was still speechless when he finished. Under her silent gaze, eyes shimmering, he could only sheepishly scratch the back of his head with his free hand. "Sorry," he muttered. "I'm not much of a singer, and it's been awhile but—"
Kizmel cut him off with a tight hug, resting her chin on his shoulder. "No," she murmured in his ear. "It was perfect. …So, my mother's song is from your world?"
"Yeah." Resting one hand on the small of her back, Kirito brushed the other through violet hair. "The Song of Mourning, from… well, another game like this one, actually, just not Full-Dive. Really popular when SAO was just coming out." He hesitated. "I… guess it must be a letdown, knowing it's from something like that, huh?"
"On the contrary," she whispered, leaning into his touch. "Knowing that things from my childhood are from your world gives me hope. Not everything will be lost when I leave the Steel Castle behind. Knowing that, I feel more as if I will be able to adjust." She pulled back, long enough to look into his eyes, and then leaned in to press a gentle, heartfelt kiss on his lips.
Untold minutes later, the two of them looked back to the stars, comfortably leaning into each. "It's hard to believe," Kirito said at length. "Tonight's really the last night in Aincrad, whatever happens tomorrow. It's only been a little over two years, but it feels like a lifetime."
Kizmel hummed in agreement. "It has been a lifetime for me," she mused. "The thought of my time here coming to an end is honestly terrifying. Yet… I also find myself excited. My whole life has been defined by the Steel Castle, and its small confines. The thought of seeing a whole new world, one without walls or ceilings, leaves me… giddy."
He could only nod in silent agreement. Though he'd only spent a fraction of his own life in Aincrad, it had grown to define him, too. The world being limited to no more than ten kilometers in any direction and the sky only slivers between vast plates of rock had become his normal. Going back to the real world was going to be a jarring experience.
A chill rang through him, despite the warmth of the air and the elf girl pressed against his side. If we make it there, he thought, remembering the battle still ahead of them. There's no guarantee we'll both be alive, this time tomorrow. No guarantee anyone will be….
Kizmel must've sensed something of his thoughts. Her grip on his arm tightened, and when he turned his head to look at her he found steely violet eyes staring back into his own. "Tomorrow will be the greatest battle of our lives," she said quietly. "Despite that, I firmly believe we will both survive. We have prevailed through everything in the past two years and more. Kayaba will be but one more foe to fall to our blades." She paused, as if to let that sink in. Then, softer still, she said, "However, should the worst happen… should I fall…."
Kirito tensed. He knew how that kind of speech went. He did not want to hear it. Not from Kizmel. Not after what happened last time she fought Kayaba—
"Should that happen, I will not be so cruel as to insist you live on without me," she continued, upending his expectations. Her lips quirked, just slightly; when she spoke again, though, her words remained sober. "You know how I was, when first we met: despairing over my sister's death, lacking the will to continue on. And… I remember your face, when I was returned from the brink of death myself. Others might tell you that you must live on for the sake of those waiting for you. I know that such would ignore your own feelings." She reached up to lay a hand on his face, gently stroking his cheek. "I would hope that you would find a reason to keep going. But if you could not… I would only ask that you spend your death well.
"Follow me if you must. But make it count, Kirito-kun."
Somehow, that eased the tension that had been building in him. The acknowledgment that it wasn't so easy to just "keep going", even though the alternative would hurt his friends and family… it was like being released from an oath he wasn't sure he could ever have kept.
Words didn't seem adequate to express his appreciation. Instead, Kirito leaned in to steal a kiss, then took Kizmel's hand in his, and rested his other hand on her hip. Drinking in her amused smile as she realized what he had in mind, he drew her into a slow dance, there on Black Cat's deck.
It was slow, and it was awkward, but under the moonlight, in their final night in the Steel Castle, it was right. Stepping together, twirling around each other, lit only by the alien constellations of Aincrad, in those moments they were all that existed for each other. Kirito spent those moments just reveling in the feel of Kizmel's warm, dusky skin in his hands, and in the sight of her smile and the violet ponytail that swirled around them.
When at length they slowed to a halt, he pulled the elf girl into a close embrace, resting his chin on her shoulder. "Thank you," he whispered. "No one in my world would ever understand, but…."
"But I do," she breathed in his ear. "And I always will. I told you: I believe we will see your world together. Even if no one there understands, I will be with you. You will not be alone. You saved me, two years ago, and gave me a new reason to live. I will repay that." For a long moment she was silent. Then, humming thoughtfully, she pulled back just enough to look into his eyes. "You know, Kirito-kun… after all this time, you've never told me why you chose to aid me, before you ever knew me. Was it merely because Lyusula's 'side' was the one you knew best from the beta test?"
"Um… actually…." Kirito tried to suppress a blush; he knew that with SAO's emotional expression system, he probably failed so badly the glow could be seen across the entire floor. "When Asuna asked me that, I told her it was because I liked your colors more. But… would it be wrong for me to admit it was because I thought you were pretty?"
Kizmel's eyebrows went up, and then she laughed, low and throaty. "No, Kirito-kun. There's nothing wrong with that at all." It was her turn again to draw him into a kiss, deep and long. When she finally released him, she favored him with a smile that made his heart race. "You really are quite the charmer sometimes, you know that?"
Then she gently pushed him back a step. Just far enough for her to have the space to sweep two fingers down, summoning up her menu. A few quick gestures—and Kirito was suddenly tongue-tied, as Kizmel's swimsuit disappeared into shimmering blue mist.
Clad only in the starlight and her newly-long, violet hair, Kizmel stepped gracefully over to the hatch leading down into Black Cat's cabin. She paused there, turning just enough to present her dusky profile, and smiled at him again. "Come, Kirito-kun," she murmured, beckoning with one finger. "If this is to be our final night in this world… I would leave nothing undone." She licked her lips. "Nothing at all."
March 9th, 2025
The weather was clear. The wind was silent. Even the birds in the trees seemed content to merely watch the procession. The only sound was of forty-eight pairs of boots marching down the stone path on Aincrad's One Hundredth Floor, crossing the two kilometers between the floor's one village and the castle that dominated the north end. Eight rows of six, in the most disciplined formation Sword Art Online had likely ever seen among its Swordmasters.
I might've expected Kayaba to choose more dramatic weather, for the final day of his game, Kizmel mused, walking at Kirito's right in the center of Party Delta's row. Perhaps, with his devotion to "fairness", he thought it would be too much for us to be tired out by wind or rain before we ever reached the Ruby Palace?
It was impossible to know. The madman's idea of "fair" was one he held to steadfastly, yet only he truly understood it.
She was woolgathering, and she knew it. She doubted anyone would've blamed her, and indeed would've been surprised if the others in the final raid weren't similarly trying to distract themselves from what was to come. Their morale had been bolstered enough to make the raid possible. There was scant chance any of them were truly calm.
Yet at least now, finally, we're all united under one banner. …A shame it took until the very end.
"Still can't get used to this," Kirito muttered, just loud enough for elven ears to hear. "Being part of a guild… feels weird. Wrong."
Kizmel couldn't suppress a quiet chuckle. "It's only for one day, Kirito," she murmured back, glancing herself at the new icon above her health bar: a pair of crossed black swords, on a white shield edged with red. The evident favoritism toward the Knights of the Blood had touched off one last, brief argument, only to be shut down by both Lind and Kibaou. In a moment of agreement that had clearly surprised even them, they'd pointed out that Asuna was the one who'd saved the Illfang raid, before Kirito showed them the path to victory.
"I know, I know. …Still weird."
"Just be glad nobody shoved ya into a uniform, Kii-bou," Argo the Rat said with a fangy grin, just past Philia on Kirito's left. "You, in KoB white or DDA blue? You know how much I coulda sold the pics for."
Kirito winced. "Yeah, I do. Don't remind me."
At the far right of their formation, Lux glanced over at them, bewildered. "Are they always like this before a raid?" she whispered.
Sachi stifled a laugh behind one hand. "If it's a good day, yeah. It's better than getting all wired up, trust me."
Team Kirito had always needed "guest stars", as Argo put it, in raids. With Rain embedded in the KoB, that was more true than ever, and for the final raid Fuurinkazan had lent both Sachi and Lux. The former Black Cat was the veteran of as many boss raids as anyone in the samurai guild, and Lux had come a long way since the frantic, improvised raid against the Gleam Eyes.
Argo volunteering had been more of a surprise, given that she usually stayed out of raids entirely. Somehow, though, Kizmel thought it was very much like her to have saved up enough Cor from her information dealing to acquire quite literally the best light armor and claws money could buy in Aincrad. Besides, what she lacked in statistical ability, she no doubt made up in being able to coordinate with Kirito. The Rat would be no liability.
And I am woolgathering again, Kizmel thought wryly. The time for which… is now past.
For Team Alpha, with Asuna at its head, had just reached the courtyard of the Ruby Palace. Most of the raid came to a halt, allowing Team Alpha to turn and face them all. Cape swishing with her movement, she fixed the raid with a proud stare, chin raised defiantly. "All right, everyone," she said, voice pitched to reach even the rear ranks. "This is it. The grand finale. Everything we've done for the past two years and more has led to this moment. Kayaba trapped us in this world. He then led us, for fifty floors, all the while plotting to betray us at the most dramatic moment. We took that from him, and now, today, we're going to make him pay for everything he's done. Are you with me?"
A short, simple speech, but enough to draw a cheer. From the long-standing members of the KoB, even the twitchy Godfree. From the survivors of the Legend Braves, long since folded into the KoB themselves, and from the Divine Dragons Alliance. From Fuurinkazan, and even the party of Aincrad Liberation Force elites Kibaou had brought with him. From the independents, like Agil and his surviving friends.
From Kizmel, and even from Kirito. This time, they were one with the other clearers. This one time, before the end of it all.
"We have had our differences," Asuna called, over the cheers. "We have been rivals! But today, we are all Beaters! Today, we end the death game, by our own hands, according to our will! No surrender, no retreat!" She drew her sword with a shing of metal-on-metal. "All of you with pride in your swords—stand together, one last time!"
That was Kizmel's cue. Exchanging a quick, wry look with Kirito, she stepped forward—wiping the smile from his face when she pulled him along with—and slipped through the other parties to stand with Asuna. Allowing Kirito to at least duck half a step behind her, she brought up her menu, and touched her Inventory. "Thirty years ago," she said, scrolling through it, "I swore an oath. Though the world is not as I believed it to be, though the war I fought then was mere smoke and mirrors, I hold to that oath even now.
"I hereby swear to become all the good in the world. To defeat all the evils of the world. I walk in the dark places no others will enter. I stand on the bridge and no one may pass."
The Flag of Valor appeared in her hand, and she raised it high. Its banner was no longer blank white, but rather red-edged, bearing two crossed black swords. Not simply the symbol of the man who'd kept the Flag for so long, but rather representing the very concept of the Swordmaster.
"I will not run," Kizmel declared. Bringing the Flag down, its pointed pommel ringing on the courtyard's stone pavement, she finished boldly, "This is my place to stand."
Kirito had wondered, over the two years he'd been trapped in Aincrad, exactly what the Ruby Palace was like. Not often, he'd usually been too busy surviving the day to worry much about what the very end of the death game might be like, but the question had always been there. Would it be like so many other final dungeons he'd seen in video games, with its design based simply on the needs of an epic battle? Or, as it became increasingly clear just how devoted Kayaba was to immersion, would it be a fully-functional structure, something one might actually expect a powerful sorcerer to have as his home?
As the huge doors swung ponderously open, allowing the forty-eight Swordmasters of the Black Beaters to march in, his heart began to race. This was the grand finale. This was the true do-or-die moment. Whatever happened, not everyone there would be leaving alive.
What will the last battle look like?
The eight parties filed in, and quickly spread out, so none of them would get in each other's way if any surprises appeared. That there was no immediately obvious enemy did nothing to relieve the tension; if anything, it made it worse. After the Skull Reaper had literally dropped in on its raid, Swordmasters' heads swiveled in all directions, weapons pointing around randomly, wondering where—and what—the final boss truly was.
It was Agil's deep baritone that broke the silence. "It's… empty," he said, voice taut. "Not exactly what I was expecting. …Where the hell is it?"
The interior of the Ruby Palace really was basically one big, empty space. In the inadequate light provided by a skylight some hundred meters or more above, Kirito could see only a wide open space, with a few ornate pillars scattered around. The walls gave him a vaguely Roman feeling, with carved railings guarding pathways that spiraled up the walls. Otherwise, there truly was nothing of note in the Ruby Palace.
Which made Kirito's nerves sing with tension. If Kayaba had decided not to put much detail into the arena, that could only mean that the battle itself was going to be something beyond anything any of them had ever experienced. He shot a quick, anxious look at Kizmel; she responded with a smile that had its own tension, yet also showed a confidence he found reassuring. She tossed her head, long ponytail swinging with the motion, as if to dismiss the very idea of losing.
Amid growing, uneasy murmurs from the raiders, Asuna's voice rang out, confident and in control. "All right, everyone. Forward! Whatever's waiting for us, we'll face it head on!"
Now forming a line forty-eight people abreast, the Black Beaters obeyed her order, Swords, spears, axes, and every other weapon in Aincrad brandished, they moved forward, toward the darkened far end of the Ruby Palace. Moving through a space Kirito estimated was at least seventy meters across, he could feel the tension singing higher.
That wasn't all he could hear, though. He quickly realized that with each step, a high, eerie song was gradually getting louder. An ethereal choir, which reminded him entirely too much of the Hollow Area; not as creepy or discordant, but close enough to play on the nerves of anyone who'd been to that twisted place.
About a third of the way in, the doors abruptly slammed shut behind them. At the same time, a bright beam of light snapped on at the far end of the Palace, finally illuminating what lay ahead of them.
"Welcome, Swordmasters!" Slow, loud clapping broke the silence. "I've been waiting for you! And as always, you have not only not disappointed me, but exceeded my wildest expectations!"
The entire raid came to a sudden halt, as all of them took in the sight. At the very back of the vast boss chamber, there stood a vaguely feminine figure—if a woman was ever ten meters tall. Pale-skinned, with solid red eyes, white hair that flared like tentacles. Pauldrons that swept into armor covering the swell of its chest, and something akin to red and black hakama covering it from the waist down. Red orbs all too much like eyes in strange places, including its head and hair.
In one hand, the figure bore a huge, crimson sword; in the other, a black-handled, crimson-headed spear. Above its head, the sight making Kirito swallow a cold jolt of fear, no fewer than ten lifebars.
[An Incarnation of the Radius].
The monster's name declared it the very personification of the Steel Castle itself. From the gasps, growls, and low curses he heard from around him, Kirito could tell he wasn't the only one seriously freaked out right then.
Somehow, though, it wasn't the Incarnation that truly captured every eye. No, that distinction went to the ruby throne at its feet. What looked for all the world like a giant version of the Feathered Dragon Pina, only with steel feathers, curled around its back. Bearing five lifebars, its name read as [The Chrome Dragon: Fafnir]. And sitting in the throne itself was a man with gray hair and steel eyes, wearing pure white armor and cape. A tower shield leaned against his left armrest, and a cruciform sword lay across his lap.
Kayaba Akihiko smiled, a disturbingly genuine smile, as he slowly clapped. "It is a sincere pleasure to see you all again, Swordmasters," he called out.
"Welcome… to the end of the world."
Author's Note:
I truly did not intend to take four months for this. As longtime readers will know, my health is not at its best, and the past few months in particular have been… uncomfortable. So I can't promise regular updates after this, and I'm sincerely sorry if this update isn't worth the wait. I can say that I should be able to get to any overdue correspondence soon, so please bear with me. Going to see about taking care of all that this week.
At any rate. Here we are, at the One Hundredth Floor. It's been quite a ride getting here, hasn't it? Nearly eight years now, to cover two years of in-universe time. Nearly at the end of the Steel Castle, a milestone that for some time I wasn't quite sure I'd ever actually reach.
I suppose there isn't much to say at this point. Beyond that, yes, I may have slightly over-done the Phantasy Star references. There is, however, a method to my madness: Kayaba's alias of "Heathcliff" may be a reference to Wuthering Heights, yet at the same time it could be a surprisingly apt reference to Phantasy Star Online. On top of that, Phantasy Star Online 2 would be one of the current "standard" MMOs as of SAO's launch, so it's reasonable to think various members of the cast would've played it. And since, unlike the other major possibility I know of—Final Fantasy XIV—I've actually played PSO2 myself, it kind of wins out by default. Besides, if you ask me, The Song of Mourning is an extremely appropriate song for this point in SAO.
One other thing: I deeply regret not having a proper "resolution" scene for Rain. In the end, though, I simply could not think of anything that would truly be a satisfying wrap-up to her arc thus far. All I could think of was a generic scene in the vein of ones other characters got in the previous chapter (and did better than what I could think of for Rain). That… just wasn't worth it. So in the end, her mystery continues a little longer, for Kirito as well as for us. Don't worry, her plot is by no means dropped.
I guess that about covers everything for now? All that remains is the final battle, and the fate of the Steel Castle itself. I can make no promises, or even estimates, as to when it will be done, but I can at least say that I've got quite the battle planned. It's going to be big, it's going to be bombastic, and it's going to be one hell of a mess. See you guys then; in the meantime, let me know if this was good, bad, or should be burned to ward off the current cold snap! -Solid
