Chapter posted: 30th June 2024

Y'all getting this two months early cause I got stuff to do.

And apparently FFN's screwed up their email alerts again. If you see this, I posted a chapter for Merchant Prince last month so go read that. Please download the app because apparently that's the only part of this site that actually works.

Chapter 27: Haunted Past

For the fifth time that day, Captain Ridwan Mason of the Aincrad Liberation Force's 8th Company, heard the snapping of a sword followed by angry yelling and cursing of a crowd.

"Another!" a voice called out to the cheers of the mob and decided then that was enough.

He stood up from his seat and put on his sword. His secretary gave him a look. "Uh, is that smart, captain?"

"And what will you have me do, Scarlett? Do my paperwork in silence?"

The gaudily dressed player shrugged. "I dunno how you're even hearing it from the other side of the beach. Besides, we still need to catalog the loot we got from the battle. Though calling it 'loot' would be a bit presumptuous."

"And that's what I pay you for," he said, patting the younger man on the shoulder. Before Scarlett could launch his complaints, Mason was already out of the tent.

You've seen one battlefield, you've seen most of them, was what his old man told him before quitting (read: kicked out) of the army. Bodies strewn everywhere, muddy roads, and a whole bunch of refugees. Ridwan was just glad there was no fighting to be done.

His father didn't speak much of his time in the military, but what Ridwan heard wasn't pretty. He forbade his sons from ever joining, not that Ridwan had any intention of doing so. He'd probably burst a vein if he learned that his son was not only in a Death Game, but also leading a frontline company into battle.

Ridwan prayed everyday that his parents were doing well.

He moved past the crowd of desperate refugees, kidnapped villagers and victims of the pirates' wrath. He moved past Captain Hamid's men who were gathering and guarding the loot that the pirates had abandoned on the shore of the cove; mostly weapons and armour of all kinds. Nearby, 8th Company was busy cooking and feeding the refugees before they were to be shipped off back to Hujung Lembah and returned to their families. The medics too were busy tending to the wounded.

The Captain of 8th Company finally reached the other side of the cove where the banner of the Sons of Mars' 4th Legion flew, and in the middle of the camp were one of the few surviving Darhaka pirates, their bodies clad in stone.

Curiously, he had noted that most of the corpses left by the spot where great trees were felled were not covered in that cursed stone they called Brimhide. Ridwan had suspicions that Hamid knew the identity of the mysterious warband that held off the pirates, but kept it secret. He'd know sooner or later.

As he passed the guards and stepped into the camp proper, Ridwan narrowly ducked as the top half of a longsword flew over his head. The camp was filled with the groans and whoops and hollers of the Legionaries as the show continued.

The show being a legionary striking a bound Darhaka pirate with all manner of weaponry. The remains of swords, axes, and blades all over could be seen in a circle around the execution spot as Legionaries were betting how many more weapons the optio could go through before the pirate was dead. So far, the pirate remained relatively unharmed besides the look of annoyance on his face.

One Centurion Sergius appeared next to him, clad in a fine cuirass of scales looking more Byzantine than Imperial Rome. He looked to be around Ridwan's age of his mid-twenties, but the beard made him look older than he was. "I admit, I thought we would have a right and proper battle, but this is fine too."

The 'battle' was a bunch of skirmishers for 8th Company and the 4th Legion harassing and killing a few pirates before their ships made it to the sea. Pitiful XP, but the loot wasn't so bad. "Hmmm. So anyway, about the -"

Sergius cut him off. "Oh, we know that the best way to kill them is neither with pila nor gladius, but a sledgehammer, but as is it's good to let off some steam."

"It might be best to apprehend them for questioning," said Ridwan.

"I spoke to Captain Hamid. The policy was no prisoners."

Ridwan watched as someone brought out, of all things, a macuahuitl, embedded with gems instead of bits of obsidian. An older woman, one Optio Makoto, snatched the weapon from the would-be executioner and slapped him on the side of the head. The troops laughed.

The captain narrowed his eyes. "These men of yours … they don't look …"

"Japanese? Like players?" said Sergius as he lit up his smoking pipe. "They're not, they're NPCs."

His eyes scanned the crowd once more and Ridwan realised that was true. Swarthy and stout Nadyah folk, many of whom wore the standard mail shirt of all Clearers but with a sarong instead of the leather skirts of the Sons. "I thought Aincradians don't allow that sorta stuff."

"You're right. They don't, usually."

Before the release of SAO, one of the frequently asked questions was if players could recruit NPCs and train them as soldiers. Argus never gave a definitive answer, always bringing up NPCs you could get during quests and the like. Even in the early days of the ALF, when Thinker suggested recruiting farmers, laborers and daytalers to raid dungeons, they found themselves unable to.

The given reason? It was simply against the law for a man who worked his lord's lands to work for another, much less a foreign entity like the players. Even the curious case of recruiting bandits ended with failure as they deserted or local authorities demanded their capture. Granumites viewed players with suspicion whereas Nadyah viewed them with barely held hostility.

The other day, Ridwan had sent Joe and Tanner to ask for some farmers from a nearby village to clear a spot for their camp, only for the cousins to come back bruised from stones. Not even Ridwan's few contacts in the Kraton was helping; the Nadyah were a suspicious people.

Sergius continued, "The Kraton was most impressed at our performance regarding the assault on Timo the Toothless' camp. For this, the Prince has allowed us this."

The Centurion produced a scroll from his bag. Ridwan scanned it, the parchment written in beautiful calligraphy:

By the will of the Kraton of Nadyah, in the words of Putera Muda, may the gods be pleased with him:

That the holder of this scroll, the illustrious company of adventure The Sons of Mars, be allowed to recruit fighting sons and daughters amongst the Realm of the Rivers.

It is forbidden for the holder of the scroll to recruit more than one son or daughter from a family. It is forbidden to recruit a son or daughter if they are the only child or breadwinner of their family. It is forbidden to recruit the scion of a noble family.

It is forbidden for the recruited to disobey their superior's orders or perform actions that harm their employer in any financial way, or if they deem it necessary for the safety of the Rakyat.

In return for food, shelter, and comfort, they are expected to follow the orders of their captains. It is forbidden for the fighting men: sons, daughters or foreigners, to take up arms against the rightful rule of the Raja and his family, harm his people, or do anything to debase and hurt the land.

Thus speaketh royal authority.

"Damn. So, where can I get one of these?"

Sergius took back the scroll and replaced it in his bag. "Sorry, privileges for the Legion. But let me guess, you really weren't here for the recruitment advice, aren't you?"

Their gaze turned back to the pirate, where half a dozen recruits were trying to stab them with knives. A difficult thing to do by all accounts, and not just on the account on the Brimhide, but the fact it was just very hard to surround one man and not get blocked by the others. Just ask Brutus and his co-conspirators.

"Your recruits are distracting me from my work," he finally said. "If you were to solve this problem, I'd be grateful."

Sergius took in his words and stroke his beard, "Sure. Give me a sec."

He craned his neck and whistled, making everyone around the pirate take a few steps back. The Centurion unholstered his mace - a big weighty thing - and launched it straight at the bound pirate.

The sound of metal meeting Brimhide was like a sledgehammer hitting brick. The pirate's head snapped back at an unnatural angle as he limped backwards. This was the raw power of the «Marksmanship: Throwing skill.»

The crowd responded with 'awww' and other sounds of disappointment.

"Get back to work!" the optio commanded and just like that the unruly mob became an army oncemore. Someone dragged the dead Darhaka away, chips of stone following the corpse like blood.

"Thanks, appreciate it."

"You are being diplomatic," said Sergius. "You do not approve."

Ridwan shook his head. "I know we don't really have the Geneva Conventions here in this Death Game of ours, but I don't think that's something we should be encouraging in our troops, players or not."

"In a time where no one has a smartphone, hell, even a book to read, the troops' morale must be kept high somehow. You and I know what happens to bored troops, eh? Better to let out their anger upon the enemy than on the peasantry, huh?"

"But -"

"Your disagreement is noted, Mason-san," said Sergius, in a way that reminded him of his bosses back at his old job. "Now I must be off, I believe Captain Hamid wishes to speak to me."

Ridwan could only stand there, upset at the situation at all, as the jungles buzzed with the sound of bugs, work, and the despair of refugees.

Putting on the hauberk was like putting on an old pair of pyjamas - warm and comfy. Well, as warm and comfy as you could be having some twenty-five kilos of armour hanging off your shoulders. Oh, and marching through dense brush and jungle. He'd forgotten how heavy it was …

"Do you need a break?" asked Guru Tua, the old man damn near gliding across the jungle in his tunic and sarong.

"Well … yes…"

"We cannot, lest we return when darkness falls," said the old man as he disappeared from view, almost as if going invisible.

Kirito was generally pro-environment but damn if he didn't want to burn the entire jungle to the ground.

It had been ages since Kirito had worn the «Sawa Lord Scale Hauberk». The quality of its make and the lack of available materiel to repair it meant he only wore it once in an age. In fact, he could count the number of times he wore the damn thing on one hand.

Once, It was just after the battle of the Sawa Lord as he painted a target on himself to save Sinon from being ostracized. It occurred to him that even if he didn't do so, little would change what with his mostly introverted ways.

Second, it was during his stint under Guru Tua. Being the heaviest piece of armour he owned, he would do exercises wearing it, greatly increasing the pace he leveled up his «CON».

There were a couple other instances, not important enough to note, but this time was definitely his sixth wearing the hauberk.

As he hurried to follow his sensei, he found himself in a clearing, overlooking a great blue lake. "Whoa."

Guru Tua stood at the shores, the carcass of a sampan next to him. He shook his head. "Worrying."

"Why, what's wrong?" he asked. "I guess we could borrow an extra from the beach … not that I want to drag it here, by the way."

Ths sensei said nothing. He instead took out half a roasted fish from his pack and threw it into the water.

Kirito had watched numerous movies and played games where, if you were to submerge something in acid, it would dissolve like … well, like it was in acid. This was different. No, this was much worse.

The perfectly good piece of fish began rotting at an incredible pace. It flopped onto the water, growing mold almost instantaneously. Flies flew from the bush only to die but a few feet from the surface, their bodies consumed by the unnatural blue water.

A gust of wind came through, hurling the scent into Kirito's face. He became nauseous almost instantaneously. "What the -"

"It's a poisoned swamp," said Guru Tua, seemingly impervious to the putrid stench. "Do not let its beauty deceive you, an average man wadding through its waters will kill him dead almost instantly"

Kirito blinked through the tears. It was like someone pepper sprayed him and fed him rotting food. "How … what …"

"The lake is not very deep, just roughly knee height. It's a decent walk ahead so get ready."

It all then occurred to Kirito. "You had me level up my «Resistance» for this."

"I did no such thing. You asked me to train you, I did so. The fact you just so happen to a mercenary is a plus."

"You know, I don't think I really believe you …"

Before Kirito could continue arguing, the old man was already girding his loins. Kirito had seen many a farmer do so in this part of Aincrad, those hard working peasants who toiled the flooded rice fields. He took his first step into the water.

Despite the blue of the water, Kirito could see mold begun to take shape on his calves, his HP steadily dropping and stopping very shortly after - his body had become accustomed to the poison already. A player with less investment in «RES», easily the most overlooked attribute in the game.

"Well, what are you waiting for. Come, that armour will handle the worst of it," he said.

Sighing, Kirito unlaced his boots and slung it over his shoulder. As if he already didn't have a phobia with water on this Floor. "Okay, but if I see a rotting cow coming at me, I'm quitting and keeping your money!"

Hauling his backpack further up his back and having his sword resting on his shoulders, Kirito approached the so-called 'swamp'. It smelled utterly putrid, even through the cloth wrapped around his mouth. Slowly but surely, he took the first step into the water.

Poison was not a common status ailment in the game, and he had to sheepishly ask someone back in the Beta what the difference between the two were. Venom was found easily enough in some mobs, and every player, Clearer or no, carried general «Antivenoms» on them, with more organised guilds having dedicated alchemists and healers to handle more powerful dangers.

He felt nothing at first, aside from the water being unnaturally cold. Then, just as he expected, the pain came.

It was a burning sensation, like being poisoned. He could see the «Poison Bar» build up slowly, almost as fast as that poisoned cup of tea he drank back at that weapons shop.

He moved, cursing as the water no doubt will rust the almost irreplaceable scales of the hauberk.

Then he took one more step and found that his foot was stuck in the mud and fell face down into the water. The «Poison Bar» shot to the max instantly.

Beneath the water, he saw the faces of dead men.

Their skulls screeched in eternal torment, their bones bleached white like plastic skeletons in the biology lab of his high school. Even their weapons: machetes, keris, and spears, seemed to be kept in near mint condition. It was like being submerged in a modern pool recently cleansed.

Kirito recognised them.

They had no skin, no hair, they were utterly bereft of human features. But he saw the image of Sinon with her strange crossbow. He saw Asuna with her shamshir and rapier. He saw a grinning skeleton, small and petite, and recognised it as Argo. He even saw Spiegel's perpetually morose face, noticeable even when skinless.

He saw his father, stern but caring. His mother, kind and loving. He saw Suguha, sweet little Sugu.

He opened his mouth to scream only to find a force dragging him back to the surface. Kirito breathed.

Guru Tua smacked him on his back as he coughed. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"T-there … there's dead men in the water!" he spluttered between gasps of air. His health bar was ticking down but and was at the 85% range.

Guru Tua covered his mouth with rough hands. "There is no such thing."

Kirito's eyes widened but the old man continued. "You saw nothing. You saw no bodies in the water. You did not see your friends or family. You recognise none of them."

There was an edge in the NPC's eyes, forceful and pleading.

"I … saw nothing."

"You saw nothing."

"Nothing."

"Nothing at all."

"Right." The sensei patted him on the chest, getting the sickening water more on his person. "Now come on, we have a ways to go."

Thus the two trudged through, ignoring the corpses at their feet and the water that was slowly killing them.

"Hey, so you wanna -"

"Go away," said Sakuya.

"Hey, that's a cool bow, what -"

"Not interested, kid," said Sunny.

"So, about that shield of yours -"

"Get away from me before I gut you like a boar," said Kibaou.

Spiegel dejectedly walked to his side of the beach. So much for diplomacy.

It had been but a few hours since Kirito and Guru Tua left for the depths of the jungle and their little crew had already set up makeshift defenses and dwellings to stay the night. A total of four fires were lit amongst Spiegel and friends, the Defenders Immaculate, and Nangka's sailors. Yet it did little ward the unnatural fog that surrounded the island.

"This is some Silent Hill-ass weather we're having," Spiegel said as he sat down by the campfire.

"Silent what?" asked Asuna, who donned an apron over her mail and still looking very feminine. Even wearing a sword while wielding tongs did nothing to diminish her looks.

Kirito had told him Asuna was very video game-illiterate and decided not to pursue. "Don't worry about it."

"Suit yourself."

Despite the nutritious meal of roasted fish and the Nadyah people's signature 'pulled' tea, which will kill Spiegel with its sweetness before a pirate will most likely, he felt unsafe.

It had taken a good month camping in the wilderness post-launch for Spiegel to even be comfortable sleeping outside. He was one of those kids in school that had a medical 'excuse' to not go camping on field trips, i.e he would be afraid of being uncomfortable with so many people. Looking back at it now, he would not have wasted the chance to go.

Sure, being trapped on a haunted island by a bunch of people who hate your guts and surrounded by pirate infested waters was not Spiegel's idea of a good time, but at least he was with Shino. Speaking of which …

Spiegel washed his in the seawater, a decision he immediately regretted due to how cold it was, and looked about.

There were the Defenders Immaculate, discussing something around their campfire. Nangka's sailors were either resting by their own fire or doing maintenance on the Naga Emas. He could see neither blue hair nor blue hide of Shino.

Suddenly, he saw in the corner of his eye something darting in the bush. He was a fair distance away from anyone else.

Logic would dictate he return to the fire to warn the others. Curiosity however proved the stronger force.

Approaching the bush and unsheathing his dagger, he almost let out a shriek as a face appeared from out of nowhere.

"Aaaa - !" He shut his mouth. "Sinon! What are you doing?!"

"Foraging," she answered simply.

"That doesn't answer my question."

She smiled. "I have heard from one of the sailors that there are some exotic crafting materials. Will you join me?"

"Sinon, we're on a haunted island, in a pirate infested seas, and you want to gather materials?"

That didn't deter her one bit, of course it didn't. "It will be a brief excursion. There is a clearing not too far from here …"

He sighed. "Fine, but let's be quick about it or Asuna will kill us."

Meanwhile, back at the campfire, Asuna looked up from her meal. "Ah, Sinon-kun, where were you?"

"I was helping the sailors with something. Where's Spiegel?" she asked as she sat down.

Asuna peered into the mists where Spiegel went to wash himself. "You know, I'm not so sure myself."

Every step he took was upon a familiar corpse.

Kirito had broken his mother's wrist and his father's ribcage. He had desecrated the legacy of his champion kendoka grandfather by breaking the shinai he used to win his first competition. The very next step he took after that he broke Suguha's.

A thousand thoughts raced through his mind, on how this was even possible on a technical scale. He didn't recall giving such accurate information to Argus when he made his SAO account. There was no way the death-console strapped to his skull could have access to not only accurate images of guildmates, but also of his immediate family, including his long dead grandfather who died half a decade before the game even came out.

"Damn … damn …" he kept repeating under his breath. He stepped on Spiegel's face for the tenth time during the trek

"Calm yourself, belalang. You are not alone haunted by your failures," said Guru Tua.

Kirito could not see any corpses he didn't recognise. Did that mean the NPC saw different people under the water? Why would anyone go to such efforts to program that?

"How are you handling the poison?" asked his sensei, and Kirito glanced at this HUD to see he was doing alright.

"My health's down to 88% but I imbibed a potion a while back." The poison swamp's bark was worse than its bite though he know full well it would kill anyone that wasn't high level as he was; Level 22 with RES 44, where everyone else was hovering at 15-18 and their RES in the teens.

"Good. Don't get it lower or else."

"Or else what?"

"You don't want to know."

Kirito exhaled and soldiered on. No point in wasting breath when you work, his grandfather had said. He made sure to break another of his shinai on the way.

For the longest time, the great outdoors was always buzzing with activity but not the lake. There were no chattering monkeys or skittering deer. Nor were there slithering snakes or happy fish in or on the water. Only the sound of his armour, deafening in the quiet, and their wet marching on the swampbed.

At times, part of the swamp rose further up to his stomach or his chest. When the water became too much, Kirito could see hallucinations of his younger self - at home cooped up in his room, two steps away from being a hikikomori. Thankfully, he had the support of his family to drag him away from complete and total withdrawal from the world.

Had he been alone, barely talking to Suguha or his parents, he would have been playing SAO for days upon days, and they would have found his brain-fried corpse a month later.

Kirito's face was splashed with water, returning him to virtual reality. "Wha -"

"I know that look, belalang," said the old man. "You are morose, mourful of the past. Let it not consume you."

He laughed despite it all, his voice echoing through the swamp. "You sound like a therapist."

"A what now?"

"Nothing. Don't worry about it."

"Hmm. There is dry land up ahead, shouldn't be too far from where our destination is."

Yet for all the memories to come to attack him, Kirito kept it together. It was absurd to feel so safe in the presence of an NPC - a program of all things. In the early 2020s, tech companies tried to sell mental health app of dubious usefulness. Yet here was Guru Tua, a bunch of lines of code, taking care him as well as any real player.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, they came to dry land just as the old man had said. They took a few minutes to compose themselves. A fire was lit, clothes and armour were dried, and dried fish was eaten. He was too tired to do anything about the rust that no doubt was accumulating. Kirito was glad he always carried a spare of dry clothes on him.

The islet within the island was a curious place, with its withered trees and bone white sand. A row of menhirs were spaced at a perfect ten feet semi circle, a brick tiled path leading deeper into the jungle. Was this where this supposed shrine was supposed to be? He had questions.

As if reading his mind, Guru Tua spoke up, "You are suspicious of this place."

"Yes." As if the corpses of his friends and family weren't bad enough, he really didn't want to contend with what was likely a powerful mob within the islet. "Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

Guru Tua, who was sitting against one of the menhirs, brought his knees close to his chest and closed his eyes. For once, the old man looked his age, with his grey-touched mustache and beard, his receding hairline, and how loose the skin of his face. He wiped his face from forehead to chin, as in deep thought, and it occurred to Kirito that his grandfather used to do the same thing at times.

Realisation struck him, his grandfather had done the same. Now, thinking about it, Guru Tua seemed to replace the image of grandfather in his head.

"Do you recall what Nangka called me when we first boarded his ship?"

Kirito did. "He called you a Rimau Setia, sounds important."

"Will you hear my tale then, belalang?"

"I will." Not there was much to be done right now.

The old man spoke and he listened.

"I can't believe you'd let Spiegel go alone like that!"

"Me? You're his friend, don't put it on me!"

"I was helping Nangka with something! And you're the captain, what with the business card and everything, aren't you?"

Asuna sighed. She got her with that. "At least the others are notified of our absence. Let's just hope he hasn't gotten his ass kicked like last time."

Sinon looked like she had an opinion of that comment of hers but she kept it shut, cool as ice. That was Sinon for you. Asuna was glad; her comment was snippier than she intended.

Burying the Defenders Immaculate's look of smugness back into the recesses of her mind, swordswoman and arbalester were on the hunt for their missing guildmate.

It was an easy enough job, Spiegel had left enough tracks in the sand and the brush to make for an easy job. Sinon tsk-tsk'd at her friend's carelessness; she had taught him better than that.

"He's gone faster than I expect," she said. "Looks like he may have had picked «Pathfinder III»."

"And, what does that matter?" Asuna asked, cutting at the brush with her parang as well as any Nadyah forester.

"In jungle environments, increase movement speed by 5%. Brush and branches incur 50% less penalty than before, shallow mud incurs no penalty whatsoever. Whipping branches does 70% less damage," she quoted, and Asuna did not doubt it was from memory. "Every Nadyah NPC has that on by default, by the way. I have the same Perk."

She envied Sinon's ability to traverse the landscape as if she was gliding through it. Almost literally, actually. She stepped on flat dirt, never landing her foot on rocks or stems or branches. She barely made a sound even as she stepped over grass despite wearing mail over her clothes. Compared to her, Asuna may as well have been a bull in a china shop. "Remind me to pick Pathfinder I, then."

The arbalester climbed over a fallen log with the ease that would impress a monkey. "He's always had issues in dense forestry considering his unoptimal build."

"Unoptimal?"

"He's stretched himself thin in a lot of areas. Spearman, shield bearer, crossbowman, even thought that «Cartopgrahy»would somehow make him a mangaka." She sighed. "My fault really, my specialisation in my ranged build meant that he had to cover the gaps in my skill set."

Asuna was understanding. There's only so much you can put on your build without compromising yourself. Even her «Cooking» skill had to pay for itself when she picked up the odd cooking job. "If only there was a way to redistribute our points."

"Respec?"

She held her dhal shield close to her chest, parang readied. "What? Where?" A new monster type?

"No, respec. That means respeccing. It's a way for players to redistribute skills and perks."

"Oh. Yeah, I knew that. I thought you said reptile." Smooth Asuna, smooth. "Is that normal in games?"

"In a lot of RPGs, yeah. It does feel weird that SAO didn't come with one."

"It's also weird that we're trapped in a video game but a lotta weird things can happen, huh."

Sinon picked up the pace as Asuna hurried after, feeling clumsy and heavy despite wearing less and less armour since the campaigns in Granum. She damn near had a branch smacked into her face as she followed Sinon to a clearing.

There in the middle of the jungle, the sun's ray barely penetrating the clouds, was Spiegel's lying form.

To Sinon's credit, she did not immediately rush to his aid, instead kneeling by the edge with her crossbow out. She and Asuna scanned the surroundings, a difficult thing considering for the swords woman considering her not so impressive «PER».

After an uncomfortable minute of silence, Sinon spoke, "Asuna, you should approach. I'll cover you."

"Sure thing." Dhal and parang raised, the captain slowly approached her fallen comrade.

Asuna flipped over the prone Spiegel and exhaled a sigh of relief to find him still breathing. She knelt besides him and checked for injuries. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, she shook him by the shoulders.

"Spiegel-san. Wake up. Wake up!"

He didn't rise despite how hard she shook him. She turned to call for Sinon for help only to meet the form of a ghost.

"Hey there, imouto. You hanging in there?" asked Koichiro, radiant and warm.

Asuna's heart skipped a beat, her vision blurred with tears. "Aniki?"

Know this, young man, this is a tale of horror and harrow. There are no feats of heroism, no deeds of honour. Only of shame and blood.

I was one of the six Rimau Setia. We were lads who grew up in a nameless village on the 16th Surface, our bond as strong as steel. We trained together in the martial arts by our own master but we quickly surpassed him.

One hot day, pirates from beyond attacked our village. But we beat them back, outnumbered as we were ten to one. We were celebrated as heroes.

News of our exploits spread far and wide and finally to royal ears, and the Bendahara of the time, personally came to see us. He offered us a deal: the Kraton will give us the materiel to defend the realm, and they will make us lords.

We became so, Datuk even at a young age. Feasts were held in our honour, wealth was showered upon us. We were spry young men, given prestige and power. Pirates to be fought, bandit camps to be cleared, even wild beasts to hunt and fend off. It was a life of adventure and wealth. What more could we ask for?

I was but only twenty-five years of youth, already wedded to a noble lady and blessed with children when we were given a mission, our soon to be downfall.

They were a people called the Orang Ulat, the Worm People - a confederation of mountain dwellers who lived in caves and consumed human flesh. Untrue, of course, but a term that inspires dehumanisation. In truth, they call themselves the Kaum Bebas - the Free People, for they obeyed no lords or kings.

The Kaum served faithfully to the Kraton as expert rangers and scouts. They were a people with strange beliefs, who worship spirits deep within the earth. Not too long ago, we Nadyah revered the spirits of the land, but that too is a dying belief.

In return for military service, asked for gold and their borders to be respected. The Raja found them excellent soldiers and rewarded them handsomely. One of the chiefs even had the Raja's daughter's hand in marriage. Envy stirred amongst the noblemen of the Kraton, that the Raja would dare honour the savages. Thus, a conspiracy was hatched.

I was not privy to the details of this conspiracy, I only came to know it after the war ended. In short, it is said this chieftain had crowned himself king. That he was superior to the Raja of Nadyah, nay, inferior to him. These were false rumours, the lies spread to the wind. The Old Raja did not believe it at first until tragedy befell his daughter.

She was killed, alongside all her children, when she refused to recognise his authority. Their heads were sent to the Raja in bloodied and wet sacks, alongside a letter bearing the chieftain's signature - a forgery, I would later discover but did not know of the time. Slaughter-war was called upon the savages with the full support of the kingdom.

At the time, my Rimau brother, the current Laksamana, led the campaign against the Worm People. It was a bloody campaign, invading their lands high in the mountains, whose people were as able warriors as the realm's finest pendekar. We were comrade-in-arms no longer.

None were spared; the men, the women, the children, not even their animals.

Halfway through this genocidal campaign, we heard rumors of a powerful metal: a type of steel, said to be forged into weapons, would render its user to be invincible to all weapons.

My brother Rimau heard of this and immediately went in search of it. For you see, he was the leader of our illustrious warband, a hero to the Nadyah. Unwaveringly loyal to the Old Raja, who had bestowed him every gift under the sun for his service. If he were to find this mystery metal, it would allow him to serve Nadyah even further. I did not doubt his patriotism for one moment.

My brothers and I tried to dissuade him to no avail for there was little honour in killing boys who were defending their families. He had become even more brutal in his conquest. He would wring every drop of information from the tribals to no avail, for the tribals themselves feared the metal and would not divulge its whereabouts. They said such weapons forged from this metal would only bring wrath.

Meanwhile, the nobles of the Kraton themselves gained more and more of the land of the Kaum. It was a racket, to enrich the already decadently rich.

It was five years of horrendous bloodshed. When our Granumite allies called us for war, we did not answer. When our villages were devastated by pirates, we let them burn. When the people were starving from a famine, the food that was to go to the bellies of our peasantry went to us.

The war was over as we slaughtered the last of the Kaum Bebas. Some survived no doubt, escaping to other Surfaces or integrating themselves into Nadyah society. Perhaps many still live in caves. The good name of the Rimau Setia, once held in honour, was whispered like a curse.

And dishonour would have continued to follow us to our graves had people's memories were not so short. After the genocide, we went back to fighting against beasts and pirates just as we had done. With a few years of bountiful harvests, all was forgotten. Better to pretend the past was black and white rather than confront our shame. Not even the failure to find the metal was remembered.

A year after the war, we handed over our keris and retired to our estates. The shame was too great for me,that I gave all my property to my descendants and made myself a hut in the Granum wilds. Even this weather with all its humidity reminded me too much of my dark past.

Rimau Kalasag is the only who remains in the employ of the Kraton, a loyal and tireless war dog. You may have heard of him, for he is Datuk of Perisai, whose city had been destroyed by the stone pirates.

As for the nature of this isle, it is where the Kaum Bebas made their last stand. We dumped the corpses of our victims into this swamp, which in the past was a beautiful lake. All the bodies you see in the water are theirs.

Their shades are vengeful still, attacking us even now. Their wrath contorts the fabric of reality. The Kraton wiped this island from most maps, to kill their very identity. Me and my fellow Rimau interned our weapons here, a pitiful offering for a great injustice to appease the souls of the dead.

Of the Old Raja, he grew old and senile and the prince succeeded him. Confined to the royal apartments, the more youthful and magnanimous prince was a boon to the land, and that horrid campaign almost vanished from memory. A people slaughtered, its killers celebrated.

"Now you know my tale, belalang. You think me a monster. If you wish to abandon this quest, I will not hold it against you."

Kirito absorbed what he had been told and pondered. Part of him was disgusted that the man he would call his sense and grandfather figure was a butcher, but then there was the other part.

The other part, rationally, thought him not as a person but a character. A program with a fake history. A fake genocide on a fake people. It was no more real than the stories he watched on TV or read in a book. Was he really in position to judge an NPC for something he very much could not do by himself, and was in fact a program playing a character?

After an uncomfortable silence, he stood up, brushed the dust of his scales and gestured his head to the path. "I … don't know what to feel."

He looked back to the swamp and for all its horrors, there was a calming beauty to its bright water.

"I was captured by the pirates, you know."

"You have told me this."

"They forced me to kill a bunch of people, to let them join their gang. For a time."

Guru Tua absorbed this information without judgment.

"Sometimes I still see their faces." The nightmare from the other day was still fresh in his mind. "God, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. You're a program. This is all fake. I'm trapped in Unreality of some asshole's game server with a god complex.

"At the end of the day, this world will end or I will. I appreciate you telling me this. But I don't think I can be your student anymore."

The old man smiled sadly and suddenly looked his age. Just as quickly he was replaced by a stern teacher and an adept warrior. "The path is not far. Let us take what we came here for before we are discovered."

The duo walked further inland, the silence still deafening but at a lesser degree. Even the voices of Kirito's family defeaned somewhat. He didn't think he could survive further heartache.

They came to a great fallen tree, blocking their way. The bush was dense on either side of the path, and the trees surrounding the shrine may have as well been a great stone wall.

Kirito sighed. "I guess we'll have to find another way."

"Hand me your blade, I'll deal with it."

The player was skeptical. "I dunno, old man. It'd take us a day to get through this, and -"

"Just hand me the blade, belalang."

Exhaling, he handed the worn machete to the NPC; it was already well worn and in need of sharpening. He'd just did it the night before …

"Stand back," he said, and Kirito did so.

"Look, maybe we should try burning it down or somet -"

He felt it, the change in the air. The spark that raised the hairs on his arms had the game been advanced enough to simulate it. A light buzzing in the back of his head, as if he had drank something strong.

Guru Tua squatted low. His free hand faced the tree, his machete arm behind him. It was by all means not a good stance, the blade too far back to be effective, his body too low to launch any meaningful attacks. More something akin to a performative shaolin stance for a crowd than for fighting.

His back foot dug deep into the dirt as the dull edge of the parang shone. He let out a breath:

«Sword Art: Savage Strike»

A gust of wind erupted from the old man as the blade made a perfect arc towards the tree. The machete's blade became razor sharp, cutting through the dead wood with a splitting crack. The two halves of the tree jumped ever so slightly, as if a great weight descended upon it. The echo of the swing damn near deafeaned Kirito. Dust and leaves erupted like a smoke bomb.

Finally, it all cleared as Kirito coughed, waving the dust away. Before the two was the tree, now halved, the way cleared. It was as if someone had come through with a bulldozer to make the path clear. Guru Tua stood straight, the machete in hand now broken in half.

He threw it away into the bush and dusted his hands. "Now that's settled, let's head to the shrine."

"Wait, wait, wait. Hold on. Was that -"

The NPC narrowed his eyes. "You know what it is."

«Sword Arts» - the very thing SAO was named after.

Kirito had heard that the mechanic SAO was named after was dropped early in development. That there would be a focus of historical martial arts. Gone was the heroic adventurer taking on entire dungeons by themselves, replaced with tactics based fighting. There was no mention of «Sword Arts» at all on any official material, scrubbed off the Internet. Only a few low quality screenshots existed around the web which confirmed their existence.

This happened ages ago, back in pre-production. In truth, no one but the most devout fans wanted it back. Not even Kirito cared for it. But to see it here -

"Sensei! Teach me how to utilise «Sword Arts»!"

"Didn't you say you can't be my student anymore?" he asked wryly.

"Well. Uh …"

The old man turned his back from him. "We will discuss this later. Come. The shrine is close."

Finally, they reached their destination:

It was a massive tree with leaves that glowed an ethereal white. All around them as far as the eye could see were gravestones, simple ones made of a single slab of rock. None of them had names because either the condition of the swamp erased them or its creators could not deign to write them.

Neither of them said anything, for to speak would disturb the peace of the graveyard. To Kirito, it was like walking into Todaiji Temple, the largest temple in all of Japan. He would not describe himself as a believer, but even he dared not debase such holy sites.

At the base of the tree was a stone altar and upon it a wooden chest. Guru Tua took a key from the his tunic and opened it with a click:

Kirito had been in enough dungeons that there were things he expected that was rote: a grand chamber filled with treasure, powerful artefacts, magical weapons, pristine panopolies of armor - this was no such case.

The contents within were not at all Kirito expected. Wrapped in threadbare silk were five keris, not unlike the one he had on his belt. The scabbards were inlaid with gold, the leather a deep blood red. Guru Tua reached for the one on the most right, the handle made of ivory.

He unsheathed it: the blade was longer than Kirito's own, where his was a dagger, a backup weapon, his sensei's was a proper sword. It was the length from the tip of his finger to the middle of his bicep. Beneath the wave pattern on the flat of the blade were glistening lines where a sort of metal was inlaid, for what purpose Kirito knew not.

"It's beautiful," said Kirito.

"It's a weapon of slaughter. Many of the Kaum's champion sent against Kraton duelists died to these," Guru Tua said mournfully, but he could not entirely hide the glint in his eye at retrieving his old blade.

The revelation bothered Kirito very little. "Oh, this one's handle is made of timoho wood - "

The old man's reflexes were sharp as ever as he slapped Kirito's hand away. Wrapping the blades into the bundle, and pocketing a few trinkets and amulets into his tunic, he gestured his head back to the swamp. "Let us go now, the others are waiting."

"You know, I expected a boss fight or something. The spirits of the dead raised against us," said Kirito, partly joking, mostly serious. "I'm just glad the only thing we'll need to handle is a little poison. No one else on the ship could have handled this."

"I'm sure the others are doing fine," said the old man, ignorant of what was going on elsewhere.

Of all things Sinon expected on this haunted island, Asuna crying wasn't it.

"Aniki!" she choked out, tears trailing down her face. "I want to go home! Please"

She was yelling at nothing and had entirely forgotten Spiegel's lying form. She had even dropped her weapon. This was bad.

Can't anything go well, these days? Sinon thought, recalling the almost failure of a mission at the royal palace and the near bungle at Kirito's rescue mission. Just one smooth sailing quest, that's all she was asking for.

She shot a bolt at the ground a few feet away from Asuna - no effect. She needed to snap her out of it and rescue Spiegel.

As the sharpshooter stood up from cover, she heard a voice behind her: "Murderer."

Sinon whipped around, bolt loaded, and was face to face with her victim.

There he was, the bank robber with two bloody wounds, one in his shoulder, the other in his stomach.

His face was pale, devoid of blood like a freshly risen zombie. His modern clothes were dirty and ragged, as if it was in use for a decade. But his eyes - they were accusing and judging.

Sinon almost dropped Vanator, a choke in her throat. "What the -"

"You killed me," he said, coughing blood. The blood from the wounds was pooling at his feet.

"You're a disgrace," came another voice.

Sinon saw her mother, teary eyed and morose a few feet away from the robber. "My child is a monster."

She felt her heart beating a thousand miles per hour. Sinon gasped for breath. She had suffered these symptoms before and recognised it immediately: a panic attack.

Between the accusing words of her mother and the man she killed, and Asuna bawling her eyes out and reverting to an almost child-like state, she felt she was dying. Her therapist told her no one had ever died from a panic attack, but she could feel her heart giving out.

Sinon felt light headed, wobbling on her feet. She blinked, her eyes wet, and suddenly -

The effects of «Empty Mind» were immediate as all pain, hunger, thirst and fatigue were set to 0. The figures of her mother and the robber became transparent, like looking through a thick pane of glass. The wounds became less horrific and their eyes less judgemental. Even her heart pulled on the emergency handbrake. She couldn't even hear them anymore

Picking up a nearby pebble, she threw it at the bank robber as it flew right through him.

Illusionary Attacks, huh? Didn't think I'd see them anytime soon.

Illusionary Attacks were one of the touted types of hostile magic that players were expected to face in SAO. Way back when Sinon followed the game's insanely long ten year development, she recalled that «Spirit» enemies would use them to confound players. She also remembered players could utilise something similar, but this was ages ago on a gaming website that likely doesn't exist anymore. She doubted such a system existed in the base game anymore.

She stood up, feeling a total sense of serenity and peace with herself. The logical part of her mind recognised the activated Perk was akin to a drug. That she was, in a way, intoxicated. The other part of her said that this was no time to care about that - she needed to help Spiegel and Asuna.

She walked to the clearing and passed Asuna, who was still at this point sobbing uncontrollably. For a woman who stared down monsters, pirates and bandits without issue, whatever hell she was experiencing must have been extremely serious.

Sinon checked the lying Spiegel and noticed a large bump on his forehead. Nearby was a very noticeable rock slick with blood. He had knocked himself out rather than suffering from illusionary attacks. Smart of him, this was what Sinon would have done herself.

Now, there was the question of Asuna - she could try to snap her out of it or do the safe thing and knock her out. Well, safe was a relative term - there was no way to actually KO someone without lasting damage like in the movies.

As she considered her choices, Asuna made hers as the sharpshooter narrowly dodged the parang that just so clip the brim of her kettle helmet.

She landed on her ass and immediately picked herself back up, aiming Vanator at the swordswoman. "Asuna, stop! It's me!"

But she knew her words fell on deaf ears as she noticed the red haze in her wet eyes. It was as if bewitched by something or someone.

Was she foaming? Her mouth was foaming -

Once again Asuna lunged at her, and had it been her shamshir Sinon would have been gutted right then and there, but the short length of her machete saved her just in time for Sinon to leap backwards.

She let loose a couple bolts, all of them striking Asuna's steel shield, which was just what she was planning to do.

The impact of her bolts slowed Asuna down from something akin to a full Olympic sprint (damn, she's fast!) to something of a leisurely run.

Asuna raised her shield to her face thus blinded herself for Sinon's attack as the sharpshooter threw aside her crossbow, raised her forearms and crashed into the shield.

Both girls went sprawling onto the ground as the machete flew away. Knowing full well Asuna was the better wrestler of the two, she had to finish her off as quickly as possible.

Asuna landed on her back and Sinon took the chance to wrap her arm around her neck and her legs around her waist, vainly trying to remember how to apply a chokehold that she saw on a video on an Internet once. They rolled about as Sinon desperately attempted to keep the swordswoman below her. She was failing.

Now Sinon found herself on her back, looking up at the sky. A flash of steel glinted in Sinon's periphery and she felt the tip of Asuna's dagger dig into her forearm.

Taking the advantage of not feeling any pain, Sinon let the dagger dig in deep before swinging the stabbed arm aside, wrenching the blade away and disarming her.

She felt the noticeable gash in her forearm, a large hole that was very much draining her of blood. Sinon noticed her already mediocre health bar dropping by 8 points per second. She needed to end this quickly.

Asuna, however, had higher «STR» stat and stood back up, bringing Sinon along with her. Only to immediately jump backwards on the ground, the full weight of her and her armour right onto Sinon. The back of her helmet smacked Sinon in the nose, breaking it.

Had this been without «Empty Mind», Sinon would have been done for. But she persisted, and brought up her bloodied arm and wiped the wound right into Asuna's face's, blinding her. The swordswoman yelled like a mad animal.

Sinon applied another chokehold on Asuna, the bloodied arm wrapped tightly around her neck. She held and held and held, ignoring her decreasing health bar.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of struggling and flaying, the swordswoman became limp in her arms.

Sinon stood up and wiped the blood dripping from her nose. God, she needed to pump some skills into melee. She was closer to being killed by Asuna compared to almost everything else in the game so far. Woe betide anyone who made her their enemy.

Kneeling next to Spiegel once again, she produced a foul smelling potion and held it up to his nose. He awoke coughing and spluttering.

"Argh! The hell is that?! Fuck! S-Shino, are you real - is that Asuna-san? Hey, you're hurt!"

She was already applying a poultice on the wound and bandaging it up. "I'll explain in a bit. Help me bring her back to camp."

Returning to the beach proved quite easy considering she felt no fatigue at all but Sinon dreaded the crash that would come soon after.

She lied to Captain Nangka and the Defenders, that Asuna and Spiegel had been attacked by wolves. It was a horrible lie, of course, and it was clear that the captain didn't believe it at all. But it was preferable to telling him that his client had gone mad and attacked her teammates, illusionary attacks or not.

After settling down at the camp and consuming a good deal of alcohol to deal with pain, Sinon finally deactivated Empty Mind. The sting of the wound still took her by surprise as she clasped her forearm. "Argh!"

"You need a potion?" asked Spiegel, offering one. Sinon declined. She'd grit through it unless something real bad started to happen.

She glanced at the icon beneath her health bar and saw the timer tick down: 23:23:50 left. So «Empty Mind's» cooldown was 24 hours, regardless of how often she used it. It would have been wiser to experiment on it while not on a quest but her curiosity got the better of her.

Spiegel looked at the prone form of Asuna and back to the sailors. "So uh, you gonna explain what happened?"

"Me? Why were you off in the jungle in the first place?!" she spat, harsher than she intended.

Spiegel frowned. "I saw you. You were inviting me to hunt for something. The moment I found myself talking to my parents, I realised I was being attacked."

"That was a dangerous move, someone could have come by and killed you while you were knocked out."

His widened eyes suggested he didn't think that far. "In my defense, you were the one that advised me to do that in such circumstances."

Sinon exhaled. "Let's just hope Kirito and his sensei comes back sooner than later."

They came back to the beach later, just as the sun was setting, plunging the already misty island into thicker mist. By that time, Asuna had awakened, not remembering much of what happened and kept in the dark. At least until they were on waters oncemore.

Guru Tua insisted they leave the island immediately, despite the coming night. "Whatever dangers lurk in the night, it is preferable to be on sea than on this island."

No one was in disagreement over that. They sat sail into the darkness, lighting lanterns around the ship.

The Defenders were to take first watch for the night. In the hull of the Naga Emas, away from the prying ears of the sailors, they discussed what happened.

Asuna looked utterly scandalized to learn of her actions, a far cry from the foaming berserker awhile ago. "I'm gonna make up to you, Sinonon. I promise you that."

She waved her off. "It's alright. Not the first time I've suffered friendly fire."

"I accidentally shot you in the back once, and you're still on that?" asked an exasperated Spiegel.

They all laughed, but it was one tinged with nervousness.

Sinon turned to Kirito. "So, rebels, huh?"

Kirito nodded. He looked a little blue, the veins on his neck popping and there was a tiredness in his eyes that could only be explained by exposure to toxic things. Even the old man, solid as an ancient marble pillar, looked a bit under the weather. "Yeah. Rebels."

"Your sensei committed genocide," Spiegel spat. "And he's our boss!"

"Look, I wasn't aware of any of that!"

"He's your sensei! You should have known!"

Asuna raised a hand and silenced further arguments. "Look, as much as it pains me to admit that I didn't fully do my research on our client - and well, we did the job. That's what matters. Let's just get back to the city and get paid, okay?"

Everyone grumbled but relented. Sinon didn't care. She was hurt, tired, and peckish. A quick munch on some dried fish and she was back to dreamland.

Neither Sinon's mother nor her murder victim haunted her on the way back.

It was the forth time in a row that Keiko had pulled the short straw. At this point, she was pretty sure Tabito had cheated and Yuuki was in league with him.

But the pay was good, and their boarding was dry and warm, and she ate good fluffy white rice everyday. By the living standards of the era, she was living quite luxuriously, unlike those Clearers outside the city having to sleep in the tents and had to contend with the rain and the filth. She hoped that her days of sleeping in the wilds were over.

Knowing Vladimir-san, that was highly unlikely.

She slapped herself awake and tossed another bundle of scrap wood into the fire. Silica once complained to her mother that their gas stove needed an upgrade. Everyone else had convection stoves. Now though? She would have done anything for that stove.

Keiko Ayana remembered her mother, wiped away the tears, buried her sorrow, and got back to work.

Their little apothecary group was currently in the care of one Lord Tonto, the Durian Knight of Hujung Lembah. The jolly man had treated them more like guests of honour than employees, giving them almost free reign around his manor. The noble had built a workshop for Vladimir's project and had them work on perfecting the process of vulcanisation.

The role of firekeeping, Vladimir had told her, was a very important job given to many religious officials throughout history.

"If it's so important, why don't YOU do it?"

"Silly Silica. That's what apprentices are for."

At least she was getting paid extra for this job.

Silica wished she had a book on hand to at least past the time. Her HUD told her it was just past three in the morning and there was nothing more than she desired than a shower and a cool bed. Even the nights were warm and humid in this jungle land.

Her eyes glazed over the numerous bottles, flasks, and paraphilia on Vladimir's table. It was as big as a dining table in Lord Tonto's hall but instead of delicious foods there were all sorts of thingamabobs and whatchamacallits. She was the apothecary's best student, and even she didn't understand what half the stuff did.

Yet one item caught her attention: the glowing vial on a tube rack that Vladimir explicitly told everyone in the compound to not touch. It glowed like an ember in the relative darkness of the lab.

A part of her reached out to touch it before discipline kicked in. No. She had a job to do and she was going to do so.

A gust of wind blew through the open window but instead of cooling her the humid air made an already hot Silica even hotter. She tugged at her collar, found her necklace's chain more irritant, and took it off. The warm stone was placed on the table as she desperately fanned herself with a bundle of parchment.

"Aaah. Cool at last …" she said, unawares of what was to happen.

The apprentice was too close to the fire she was supposed to keep watch on and a stray speck of fire landed on the parchment. She noticed it not and continued to fan herself, only to make the flame grow bigger.

When the flame nearly licked her face, she stood up from her stool, shouted in surprise and slammed the parchment-fan onto the table. That was her second mistake.

The fan struck her necklace, making the oddly shaped stone roll along the table. It miraculously avoided every other piece and struck the rack containing the vial.

The sound of breaking glass was like thunder in the dead of night. "Oh no!"

As Silica tried to find a rag and thinking of ways to explain this to Vladimir a great flash nearly blinded her.

She found herself stumbling onto the floor, covering her eyes with a forearm. Just as she recollected herself, she saw a strange creature upon the table.

Something had cracked through the stone: the head of a blue beast.

Silica rubbed her eyes again, then pinched herself. "Nope, I'm awake. I'm awake."

The young girl cautiously approached the table - the glowing vial of liquid was no longer glowing and the stone that used to hang around her neck, went from being no bigger than a pebble, to the size of an egg. How the creature within it was so able to rise and cracked through it, she did not know.

Silica examined it closer: the beast was blue, covered in what she assumed was the egg white. It was a pathetic little thing, with its beady red eyes that could barely see the world. It looked half chicken, half lizard, with wings too small for its already tiny size.

She slowly peeled away the layers of the stone (eggshells?) and picked it up. The creature looked around and finally noticed the giant that was holding it up.

It squeaked at her. "Eep!"

A health bar appeared above it, with the name of «Feather Dragon», alongside a pop up box:

"Would you like to name the Feathered Dragon?"

Silica's jaw dropped and she blinked away tears. "I'm going to call you Pina-chan."

"Eep!" squeaked Pina.

"You know what'd be funny? If I made Dark Souls 1's Resistance attribute useful and made it a plot point." - me, like 8 years ago. Oh God, Retold is like 11 years old ... I should really upload this on Ao3.

You've no clue how long I wanted to put in that poison swamp. That's why I had Kirito level up RES. That's why he's ingested all those poisons. That, and because I was also really into the Witcher series at the time, and this was before Witcher 3 came out.

And so comes Pina. I admit I don't think I've seen folks notice the egg thing, but I'm glad I get to show some progress with our merry band of apothecaries.

Fun fact: If you're one of the few people still reading Retold, first of all, I love you, and I would die for you. Secondly, you may have noticed one rando player from Chapter 1 use a Sword Art. It was not named, a mace just glowed and hit something really hard, but it was there.

Originally, I was gonna add Sword Arts but decided to go "You know what, maybe it'd be cooler if it was a reveal that they've been in the story all along." HEMA was relatively new and fresh on the Internet back then, thus the focus on the lack of Sword Arts. I just didn't expect it'd take me 11 years to get around to adding it in the story proper.

As some of you may know, I've been working on other OC projects, as well as writing Merchant Prince. I think I'm gonna have to go back to the OC stuff but hopefully you'll get to another MP chapter soon. Unfortunately my writing progress has been cut in half; quite literally, my quota went from 1k words a day to 500 words a day. This is an abnormality and I'm hoping to get back to my usual 1k words soon-ish.

As always, leave a review and all that. Maybe I'll post another Retold chapter before the end of the year, but no promises.

Until next time.