Date posted: 13th May 2023

*Looks at review count* Crap, now I gotta commit now, huh?

Welcome back everyone. April was tough, but not as tough as writing this chapter.

Chapter 19: Customer (Dis)Satisfaction

"Actually, we're trying to escape right now. But we need a riot. You wouldn't happen to know how to start one, do you?"

Avatar: The Last Airbender - Season 3, Episode 15: The Boiling Rock Part 2

She had never seen the villages by the river so empty.

The fishing boats were hauled to shelter and covered in tarp and the fish were hanging to be smoked and dried. There were but only a few people left, mostly the old who were left to tend the village alongside some children. This was the fourth one so far and she hoped the inhabitants wouldn't be as stubborn as the ones before.

Asuna pulled the reins of Kumo-chan to a halt, a few other horsemen with her: a man in bright white and green armour, with a similarly coloured plum, so shiny, Asuna was afraid the enemy could see them from hundreds of yards away, astride a destrier followed by a pair of squires in shining breastplates; a lean and lithe woman, wearing nothing but warpaint a pair of breechclouts, a wicked lance in hand, riding a hardy mustang; a pair of grizzled and gritty sellswords in boiled leathers, riding horses that Asuna was 95% sure were stolen from a local; riders in the typical drab green and white gambeson, the white Owl of Wicasa the sewed on a green breast - a loud and colourful caravan of warriors. In the rearguard was a quiet man, a green tabard over a cuirass of dull scales, with an equally dull greathelm. The village was already out in full force to greet the newcomers.

The first was a familiar one, a kindly older man about her father's age. "Ho, warchief! What brings you to our humble village?"

It was the same man Kirito who had spoken to all those months ago when buying all those fishing equipment for the New Settlers. It felt like an ago, but then again, it felt like an eternity since they were stuck in this horrible game. The old man seemed to not have aged a day.

Asuna got to the point. "Chief, danger is approaching. A great host of undead will swarm the land. I ask you to bring your family and some choice belongings to Fort Eternal Vigilance as soon as you can."

The chief merely laughed and waved the worries away. "Bah! Some shamblers escaped from their graves and barrows. What's new under the sun? I may be old, missy, but I can split the skull of a corpse walker like it was nothing!" he said, tapping the oar he was currently painting with resin varnish.

Asuna suppressed a sigh. She hoped that he'd go easily as the previous four villages did, but the Free Tribes weren't called free without a reason. "Chief -" damn, she forgot his name, "Respected Chief, please, think of your family-"

He irritably waved her off again. "My youngest granddaughter is a terror with a sling you know, can hit a bird a hundred yards in the sky. Sure, she only did it the one time, but with enough practice, she'll be as sharp of a shooter as an elf!" he said with grandfatherly warmth.

Asuna could feel the headache coming. "Listen, old man, why don't you -"

She felt a hand on her shoulder. "May I speak, warchief?" asked a muffled voice.

She rolled her eyes. "Fine, but make it quick."

The helmeted man nodded to the horsewoman before dismounting his handsome destrier. "Grandfather, may we speak privately? I have some tobacco to share."

The old man's eyes lit up at the mention of the leaves. "Do you now, sonny? Well, come on in my humble home!"

The fully armoured knight followed the old man into his home, leaving Asuna alone with some of her horsemen. She barked orders for the rest of the scouts to surround the village as a precaution for any smelly zombies as she led Kumo-chan to the river to drink.

She partook in the fresh water of the Magula River and washed her face, the coldness of the water reinvigorating. She hadn't slept the night before, far too busy delegating orders, making battle plans, discussing with her officers and all sorts of guild leader stuff. But damn, if she wasn't at the top of her game. All those group projects at uni with her at the lead had finally paid off. And unlike her fellow group members, the Watchmen actually followed her orders.

Asuna's hair slipped from her padded coif and onto the mail mantle around her shoulders, and not for the first time did her long hair had become a detriment when wearing armour. Cursing, she sat by the riverbank as she carefully and carefully tried to untangle the mess of locks from the mesh.

It took far too long than she was comfortable with. Kumo-chan snorted. "Don't give me that long face."

"Neigh," neighed the horse.

"Hey, who braids your tail and spends lots of money on horse shampoo? Me, that's who. So don't give me any sass."

Kumo-chan whinnied sassily.

"No, I'm not gonna cut my hair. Do you know how much time and money I spend on this?"

She snorted and pawed at the grass.

"Oh, buzz off. What do you know, you don't even have fingers!" Damn horses and their judgemental looks.

She tugged and pushed and twisted her hair in all manner of ways. This was neither the first nor last time that Asuna Yuuki had to duel with her most determined enemy: her own hair. Sure, there was an army of zombies out there threatening to destroy civilians, her friends and her boyfriend but no one said saving the world required abandoning strict hair maintenance. Maybe she should ask Kirito what shampoo he was using; how the merchant kept his hair split free and always shining must be some sort of trade secret in itself. It smelled great too, and how smooth it felt when she ran her fingers through it -

Asuna shook her head. No time for lewd thoughts, she was on a military expedition.

She didn't know how long she was at it and just as she was about to give up and cut the damnable tuff of hair off, she felt fingers pulled at it and her ruined split ends were freed from their mesh prison. "Thanks. I didn't fancy growing it back." Or going to her hairstylist, while she's busy, you know, not getting everyone killed. Is this what normal guild leaders have to do on a monthly basis?

"It is no issue, captain," said the armoured man, who now had his great helm under his armpit. "You'd be surprise at how reasonable people can be when offered tobacco."

"I'd carry a pouch myself but I'm not a smoker." Maybe Kirito should have sent Sinon instead. "You … didn't threaten him, did you?"

"Oh, I just scared him straight with macabre tales of rotting corpses. You know how these old folks can be."

"I appreciate it, Heathcliff."

"Worry not, captain," said her former opponent. "Is this the last village?"

"Should be. We've gotten just about every village in the area. Now, we only need to head west."

The desmene of the fort reached the Magula River, the north bit with the sawmill, and the southern part where it met the road to Fort Arrowhead. It was larger than Asuna had expected and she found a village or a hut here and there that technically fell into the domain of the Eternal Watch. Sinon was the woodsman, not her, and her lack of presence alongside Argo was most worrying. She could spare no man to search for them, as much as she'd like.

Asuna watched the few villagers load up their belongings in their boats with the help of her riders. She had rode out of the fort with some sixty men, dragging large carts on the paved road, which soon turned to gravel, then to dirt. But Asuna hadn't yet created the cavalry squadron she wanted so she had to make do with hiring some of the jousters from the tournament, all of whom had been paid and sworn into secrecy. Not that it would matter much soon.

Of course, the very idea of hiring these proud, skilled, and very expensive jousters nearly killed poor Kirito. "And how on earth are we gonna pay for them? These guys have as many people working on their horses as much as an F1 racer has in a pit crew!"

"You're being hyperbolic. They don't cost that much." It was true. They only costed a grand at most. Per jouster. And that wasn't including the pay for their squires. Or their pages. Or their ferriers. Or their armourers. Or their chefs. Or the feed for their horses. Or the chefs for their horses. "Look, are we really gonna quibble over a few pieces of Col? Lives are at a stake here!"

"My accounts are at stake! We are not hitting a million Col at this point!"

It was said that the strongest choices required the strongest wills. She had faced kobolds, zombies, wizards, corrupt guardsmen, and beavers, but this had to be one of the toughest decisions she ever had to make.

"I'll … I'll …" She sucked in a breath and went through it. "I'll pay them out of my own pocket."

The big brown puppy eyes Kirito shot her was the soothing poultice that she needed. "My loyal knight."

"My handsome lord," Then she was out of the office, but not before Kirito gave her a peck on the lips which she returned with a squeeze of his bubble ass.

She had her men in squads, a cart each, in each cardinal direction; with Asuna's troop riding north. It seemed like a waste though, for most of the Free Tribes had little need of a horse aside from plowing, and what they carried they used travois pulled by dogs. Everyone was helping, even the kids. She and Heathcliff returned to their mounts.

The old man approached her. "I did not realise the situation was more dire than expected. We will be finished packing up soon."

A girl in a pink dress walked up to him. "Grandpapa, will we be okay?"

The old man ruffled her hair. "With Warchief Asuna in charge, the Watch will beat back those wizards before you know it."

The girl handed Asuna something. "What's this?"

It was a doll, just small enough to fit her gauntleted hand: a lady in a black dress, with black beads for eyes and long black hair. Her mouth was made with a string of pink thread. Asuna was violently sent back to her childhood, and the handmade dolls that her grandparents had bought her. "Aww, thank you! She's so cute!"

She beamed. "It's your leman, the pretty man!"

Oh well, that did explain a lot of things, like the smug look on his face even. "Thank you, dear. I'll keep this safe and sound."

The Orage however were a hardy people, used to challenges living in such lands, and obedient to their chief. When convinced to abandon their homes, they simply shrugged, packed up their things, and loaded their things onto the canoes. So much for the carts. Asuna gave the chief specific instructions to not say anything, and if asked by anyone else, to say they were going to see the field games.

She crossed the village off her map. "That's the last one. We should head back and prepare for -"

A horn rang from the treeline and her instincts kicked in. She stood in her stirrup and raised her sword, shining in the morning sun. "Men, to me!" She slammed her visor down and galloped west, Heathcliff wordlessly followed her.

It was Ser Caibre who sounded the horn. The Granumite knight had his sword out, speaking to another man. He looked bloodied. "Hwiatha!"

"Don't worry! The blood isn't mine!" He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, realised the tomahawk he was holding was missing a head and threw it away. "Problems, warchief."

"What kind?"

"The bad kind. The sawmill, headed by Kariwase. They're besieging the entire village."

Kariwase was the brains behind the reconstruction at the fort, recommended by Ser Reginald himself, and a distant uncle of Alena. Asuna had never met the man, but his influence was apparent in how the fort was rebuilt. He also built the carts for the mine, the paved roads in and out of the fort and watchtowers around the fort's demesne. According to Kirito, he was something of a recluse, and after doing the work for the tournament, retired to his village.

He was also a contractor for the Kirito Corporation and his death would surely be a blow to the company's PR. That, and his contract stated that in the event that he died while employed, the company would have to give a big payout to his family.

"And what of the rest of the scouts?"

"Don't know, you're the first one I've met."

"How many undead were there?" asked Heathcliff.

Hwiatha grimaced. "That's the thing, it isn't undead." Asuna immediately understood what he meant.

Fantastic. She made her decision. "Lieutenant, round up our scouts, bring them to the sawmill, we'll need all the help we can get."

The tribal grinned and gave her a salute with a bloody hand. "Sir, yes sir!"

A riot of colours raced to west: chivalrous knights, mighty tribal champions, gritty sellswords, men and women of all pasts with two allegiances: the Watch or money. Asuna would have preferred her Watchmen instead of a motley crew of prideful jousters, dubious sellswords, and a Rumine raider she had probably fought before - but beggars can't be choosers.

Her eyes glanced at the piece of silk tied to her right bicep, the little girl's doll in her belt. Ah, the things she'd do for Kirito.

The entire field erupted as the leather ball flew past the goalkeeper and into the net behind him. Men, women and children in the stands stood up, their cheers deafening and another collection of spectators pulled at their hair, slapped their palms on their faces, or cursed. A part of Kirito wanted to be on that field, for people to celebrate his athletic prowess, to hear girls chant his name and look at him with lust.

But that was long ago. He kept swords away from him like an ex-smoker keeps aways cigarettes. Even the one time he wore a sword when helping Asuna train for the tournament with Ser Reginald, he didn't even draw it. It was more for looks than anything.

He carried a knife at most and currently, currently it was Agil's gift on his belt. The bowie knife was good and weighty in his hand, light and balanced. He dared not use it on anything because he still had no idea what magical properties it had. This was despite having two competent mages in his employ, but both the professor and his apprentice were already working overtime on the dungeon. The sisters were currently acting as security in said dungeon, the first defense against the Prisoner. There were also the barrels she had brought with her, which when asked about, merely smiled and said, "Magic."

He sure could use some right now.

Two of the athletes had gotten into a shouting match and the referee had to step in. One of the athletes swung at the other, only to sock the referee right in the face, and suddenly there was a brawl. Security stepped in the form of good ol' Shaste, that gentle giant, merely hauled both players in his arms and hugged them tightly, scolding them for 'being naughty'. The crowd seemed to find that endearing and cheered the big man on.

They should be cheering me, Kirito thought enviously. Best damn kendoka in the state, could have gone pro had … had …

He banished the thoughts immediately. Next to him, Commander Roger Lionel Emeri said something profane and immediately composed himself. "Sorry, I bet on the wrong team."

"No worries, commander," said Kirito, fondling his glass of wine. He had not touched it in a while. Similarly, neither were Brother Rays and Ser Reginald. All of them wore mail under their expensive clothes and the brother-ghazi watched the match not at all, scanning the crowd for potential danger.

"Peace, Brother Rays. My sheriffs are on it." As was Master-at-Arms Robert and the rest of the Watch. It was at times like these he wished Argo was by his side, to quip and joke and tease him. He had to settle for the Wall looking impressive and intimidating behind him.

"Much like how you lost «Wicasa's Legacy», the prize that the champion of the tournament are waiting for?" he said, then shook his head. "Pardon me, lord, that was unkind of me."

"Don't worry about it, it's been a hard time for all of us."

The paladin's face had seemed shrunken, after all the reading done on the Book of Sodosma. The best thing he had gleaned from those accursed pages was a sort of spell he could cast on weapons, which did a whopping 3% extra damage to Undead. Either Rays wasn't the world's best researcher or the damn thing was too high level for him. Still, it was better than nothing. The sun was at least doing him some good.

"Lord Kirito, as I've said, I could send word to Mankhlar about your situation," said the commander, ever the professional soldier.

"No commander, my men can handle it."

"Yet Ser Reginald's own soldiers are ready to help the Watch …"

"My men are on standby, Commander," said the knight. "It would bring too much panic if I move them immediately. The recent tussle with the Rumine means that not all of my men are available."

The Commander of Mankhlar's Citizen Watch brushed his greying moustache. "You are being vain."

Kirito's mouth gaped. "I am not! I am being … careful."

The old warhorse did not seem to agree. "If you say so, lord."

He exhaled through his nostrils. The leather ball was tossed and missed to the chagrin of the crowd. "Excuse me, gentlemen, I need some air."

Kirito told the Wall to stay put as he descended the stage. He halfway down the steps of the backstage before bumping into a familiar pink haired smith. "Please tell me some good news."

"Agil's burgers are delicious."

"Okay, tell me some other good news."

Lisbeth scrunched her face in thought. "Your hair looks shiny today?"

Well, he was using very expensive shampoo, it better be. "Status report."

The two walked away from the field to somewhere more quieter. The sheer amount of people, which a city boy like Kirito never had issue with, had become too stuffy, too chaotic. He'd never think he'd miss the days of camping by the road or in the forest.

"We've doubled the guards, hiring almost sellsword we can get our hands on. That's good news!"

"Buuut?" There's always a 'but' with mercenaries. Can't trust any of them. Kirito would know, he had that merciless merc thing down back in the beta.

"They're ill-disciplined. The sheriffs, well okay just Hugo and Chitra, are doing their best to control them. We've posted extra guards by the entrance and denying all visitors. People are complaining."

"Just give them a free tunic!"

"We've run out of tunics."

"How did we run out of tunics! We ordered a thousand of them!" All from completely ethically sourced tailors, and totally not from goblin run sweatshops in third castle kingdoms.

"The sellswords wanted them and the sheriffs gave em'."

"So five dozen mercs wanted five hundred tunics for themselves?" They haven't even sold most of them yet!

Lisbeth shrugged. "Hugo and Chitra are not Asuna, I'm afraid."

Before long, a lithe elf appeared next to Kirito so suddenly, he almost pulled out his knife out of surprise. "Merchant Prince Kirito, Lord of Fort Eternal Vigilance, I-"

"Just Kirito would do."

She nodded. "Lord Kirito, I bring tidings."

The Royal Guard had volunteered for security about the fort, which Kirito was eternally grateful for. She suggested disguising herself as another worker at the fort, because a six foot plus elf tended to draw attention. The disguise would be fine had she worn anything else but her fancy elven fighting leathers and the enormous straw hat she wore didn't have her antlers poke out of it, which completely negated the very concept of being incognito. Kirito assumed others were too polite to say anything about it.

"The burgers from the one known as Agil are very good, I give it a 9.5 out of 10."

"That's what I said, sister!" Lisbeth agreed.

"Enough about burgers! Tell me about the sabateur. Do you think he's here?"

Kizmel nodded. She closed her eyes and was silent for a moment. "I sense magical power in the air. It is here, there, and everywhere all at once. I think … they are here."

The smith's eyes widened. "Amazing! How are you able to accomplish this, Kizmel-san?"

"This is the magic of the elves, unknown to the children of Man," she said mysteriously.

Kirito pointed to her leg. "Is that a cat?"

They looked down where an orange cat was rubbing itself against Kizmel's leg. The elf bent down to pick it up. "Cats are known to have a good sense of magic, he was rummaging through the Burger Lord's garbage when I picked him up. I have named him Cheeseburger."

"The magic is cats," Lisbeth concluded.

"All cats are magic, master smith."

"Nya," Cheeseburger meowed.

Kirito sighed. "So, your idea of finding this saboteur is running around the place with a cat in the vain hope he sniffs him out."

"This is standard procedure in the Royal Guard. Worry not, Lord Kirito, we will find the villain soon enough."

"I hope so. They don't need to learn that we lost the main prize of the tournament," Kirito whispered. "There'll be a riot. Worse than the one in the dungeon."

"And people will get hurt," said Kizmel.

"And those necroweirdos are gonna do creepy shit!" said Lisbeth.

"And worse! It'll eat into our earnings! That's a potential 8.5% loss in revenue!"

The elf turned to the smith. "Is he always like that?"

Lisbeth shrugged. "He named his own corporation after himself, what do you think?"

Cheeseburger sprawled lazily on the ground. "Nya."

It is said that dwarves possess an instinct called stone sense, an innate ability to travel underground without losing their sense of direction. Whereas an experienced a forester could notice how a tree looked different, animal tracks or droppings in the dirt, or the position of the sun in the sky, a dwarf could do likewise with the indents in the stone, the weight of the stone above them, or the patterns on the cave wall.

Unfortunately for Argo, she was no dwarf, and neither was Sinon. They had been walking for hours. Yet, somehow, thanks to the funky staff they had stolen, Sinon was working as a human GPS system.

"Human GPS system?" said Sinon. "The 's' in GPS already stands for system!"

"You know what I mean!" The footsteps had neither increased nor receded, it felt like the cultists were just a corner or two away from catching them. Argo hoped that they didn't have any magic to see in the dark or something. "I shoulda pumped points into PER over STR!"

"You don't mean that," said the slayer, jumping over a crack that the Rat just barely stepped in. The last thing they needed was a broken ankle.

"Yeah, you're right, I don't." Though she couldn't see it, Sinon could feel the Rat flexing to absolutely no one. "But fortunately for you, I'm both brains and braw- OW! You coulda warn me!"

"And get in the way of that big head of yours, not a chance," said Sinon, and despite the circumstance, she smiled. "Wait, was that a tree root?"

"I don't know, I can't see!" She blinked. "Wait, tree roots? That means …"

"We're close to the surface. I can sense it." Open air, blue sky, dead leaves. The worms on the staff wriggled disgustingly, and as much as the slayer wished to rid herself of it, they would be lost without its worm-sense. "Come on, just a bit more."

Their hearts lightened to see a literal light at the end of the tunnel, blocked by a pile of rocks. Argo went at it like a dog digging a hole, and when that wasn't enough, kicked at it hard enough for the whole structure to crumble. The rocks rolled away and the light grew just a little bit lighter. The Rat squeezed through first before pulling Sinon through.

They were at the side of a mountain of some kind, the sun and the greenery of the outside world was a soothe to their psyche. "Where are we?" asked Argo.

Sinon looked around. "It seems … familiar. But I'm not sure myself. I can hear running water."

"Guess we'll just follow the river downward."

"No need for this thing anymore," said Sinon as she launched the thing into the bushes, finally freeing herself from the staff's devious influences -

"Argo."

"Yeah."

"I … it's not coming off."

"The staff?"

"The staff."

"Ah. I see the issue." She pointed at her hand. "The worms are digging into your skin."

In the bright afternoon sun, Sinon watched the worms digging into her flesh, wriggling, stretching her skin out in an unnerving manner, pulsing as if it was her veins, the slayer and the worms becoming one. "Mmmmmmm don't like that."

"I can cut it out, if you want."

"How high is your «Medical» skill?"

"Uhh …"

"Exactly."

She pulled the hem of her sleeve to not see the offending thing. "Anyway, we should make way for the nearest village so we can -"

Argo's green eyes widened. "Sinon … your other arm …"

She raised her left arm for inspection and found she had assumed full mobility. The bandages simply fell off as she moved it about, fully healed, rotating her arm about and flexing her fingers. "Huh? The medicine woman said it should have taken a few more days, a week at best to heal."

Argo covered her mouth. "The worms …"

"No way … wait, let me check for a second." With her newly healed hand, Sinon hovered a finger over the staff and summoned the weapon's stat window:

Name: «Holy Office of the Heresiarch»

Type: Staff (Enchanted)

Weight: 2.5 kgs

Value: Unknown

Item description:

The Staff of Worms is a rare staff given to high ranking wizards serving the ancient warlords of the past, a symbol of office and turst. After the War of Unification by Aincradius and the subsequent outlawing of necromancy, these staves became a rare artefact for inspiring rogue wizards. This particular staff was created during the Aincradian Schism, belonging to an unknown but powerful heretic.

Effects:

+50% Healing Rate to HP

+150% Healing Rate to Broken Limbs

Worm Sense: Replicates Dwarven Stone Sense the wielder, but with a focus in natural made cave systems instead of underground dwarven civilisation.

"Whoa. Sinonon, this thing is a big deal!" said the Rat. "This could help us take down the cult!"

She looked at the staff with a renewed sense of respect. "Perhaps I treated you too harshly."

"So you're gonna keep it?"

"God, no. I'm ditching this thing the first moment I get! The mages and the paladin could probably use it." She gestured southward. "Come on, let's get going."

Thankfully for Sinon, the staff did allow itself to be disengaged as long as it was on her person, which she carried on her back with a makeshift sling. They stopped just so briefly to quench their thirst and munch on some berries. It wasn't the finest meal in the world but after hours of running in the dark and dying to angry zombies, it may as well have been a five star meal.

In her element, Sinon darted across the landscape, her longer legs nimbly traversing the brush whereas Argo almost tripped on another tree root or ran into a low tree branch. It wasn't fair, she was short enough and somehow found herself almost hitting low hanging branches.

"Maybe you should pump points into «Wayfinder». Makes going through nature a breeze," said the slayer, all the rocks and the dirt and bushes in the world nary a bother.

"I did! Well, I pumped points into «Roof Hopper», the urban equivalent of «Wayfinder». Nature and me don't mix well, ya' know." Argo was a city girl first and foremost and she liked everything about it.

"Oh come on, it's not so bad," said Sinon, using her creepy wizard staff as a walking stick. Argo was tempted to break a branch and use one herself. "What, you don't like camping?"

"Went camping on a school trip once. Most miserable three days of my life. Let me guess, girl scout?"

"Nah. Just played a lot of survival games. Took to it no problem." She had picked up a bunch of stones on the way and placed it in a pouch, as well as some hanging vines to use as a sling. The blue haired girl ever the ranger.

The sun was dipping below the mountains and the blue sky had drops of orange into it. They had traveled down the Magula River and to their surprise, met no one. This in itself was odd and worrying.

The first village they arrived at was empty. No goats or pigs in the pen, no cattle grazing in the fields, no dogs growling at them. The fishing canoes were gone and whatever food they had vanished. It seemed that everyone had just up and left. But there were no signs of violence and all the signs of horse tracks. "Are these Watch patrols?" asked Argo.

"Maybe."

"Maybe it's zombies on horses."

"Zombies don't know how to ride horses. That's what undead knights do."

"Undead knights are a type of zombie, ever heard of the Blackguard?" said Argo.

"No, a «Zombie» is the shambling type. The smarter zombies are technically called «Revenants». Completely different."

"What are you, a zombie expert?"

Sinon closed her eyes and counted to five. "Next time, I'm going to let you touch that poison ivy."

They scavenged some pemmican and dried fish, Argo leaving an IOU on the table. Players had this bad reputation of 'requisitioning' the property of NPCs. Clearers especially, what with being part-military and three meals away from falling to banditry, with only the most professional of guilds keeping some sense of civility. True, there was no Geneva Convention in Aincrad, but it was unwise to harass some lord's peasants. That, and the Kirito Corporation would like to avoid lawsuits as best as possible. Sinon had snatched a bundle of javelins from a hunter's hut, and finding herself properly armed, felt a little bit safer.

They walked a few miles more, crossing a bridge and still finding nothing. Sinon however had found her bearings. "We're nearing the sawmill, the village of one Master Kariwase."

"I know him," said Argo. "A bit of an eccentric coot, but they'll give us shelter. It's just over this hill."

As the two women crested the hill where the dirt roads lead to the sawmill, they stopped in their tracks. The village was surrounded by a small army. Not of the shambling dead, they saw neither dirt fresh zombies risen from their resting places nor were there the well-preserved corpses they stumbled in the cave, armed with tomahawks and shields. To Argo, it was an alien sight, not one she had seen before. To Sinon, it was familiar and threatening.

Argo gasped. "Are those …"

Sinon's eyes narrowed. "Beavers."

There had to be easily a hundred of them besieging the village. Kariwase's village was not like the settlements common amongst the Orage with a palisade wall, but made of strong stone, taller than a man, with two watchtowers on two ends of the village. The master builder was a wealthy man, and he poured his wealth into his village as much as he would. A ditch had been dug around the wall at some point, and at the main gate where the force was strongest, corpses of beavers filled it. The burning remnant of a battering ram was burning and smoking at the gate, the corpses of the beavers left to burn with it.

"The Castoridae League? I thought the Clearers had beaten them back?" said Sinon.

"Yes, they were … and last I heard they went back into hiding. But … why are they here?"

Argo covered the top of her eyes and squinted, as if the act could make her eyes zoom in like a scope. "Um, you and Aa-chan fought these fuzzy bastards before, right?"

"Yeah, a few." The slayer still recalled the raid with Brother Rays a while ago. "Why?"

"Do they have mages?"

Sinon thought for a moment. "I've heard they do have them, but they're relegated to end-floor dungeons with the Clearers."

"Do they have auxiliaries?"

"No, never. The beavers hated humans and humans beavers." That she was sure of. It was mutual xenophobia.

"So uh, can you explain those strange pale guys over there?"

There, in the treeline, the players could see three squads of undead, carrying siege ladders on their shoulders, towards them as the desperate villagers let loose with arrows, javelins and axes. They raised their large shields over head and marched unfearing, unstoppable. The ladder-bearers were armed with wooden clubs, branches really, and rusty swords. If the two of them were closer, they'd probably smell the fresh dirt on the corpses.

Behind them were the real assault teams: older undead, their taut grey skin stretched over their bony frame, with bison-hide shields, gleaming breastplates and newly forged tomahawks, plus a unit of great beaverserkers, with double-headed bronze axes, and thick helmets. Sinon could just spy a black robed wizard two bowshots away, safe from harm.

"So much for the power of racism," said Sinon.

"What are we gonna do?"

"Nothing. We need to move, warn the fort." Sinon was already up and turning around.

"Hey! We can't just leave them!"

Sinon closed her eyes. "Argo, we are miles away from the fort, with no horses. I don't have my usual weapons and even if I did, we're just two people."

"They might die!"

"Unless a squadron of cavalry comes sweeping them from the road and smash into them, I don't see any point in getting into it!"

It was at that point, the surrounding area was filled with the sound of a war horn. The sound froze the defenders and attackers in place. Then, from the east, the cavalry came.

Horsemen of all kinds: Free Tribes, Eternal Watchmen, tournament jousters and sellswords and their squires were racing down the road at full gallop, coloured lances with a foot of sharp steel on them. A familiar crimson clad knight was leading them, shamshir raised.

Argo had a shit eating grin on her face. "Don't say anything," said Sinon.

The Rat folded her hands together and cracked her knuckles, dropping a glass potion on the floor. "Come on, let's not keep them waiting!"

Before Sinon could argue otherwise, Argo was off, racing towards the horde of undead. The cavalry had met the undead ladder force head on, an explosion of cracking lances, steel on flesh went off like an explosion, the yells and screams of everyone involved in the bloody melee. The lighter armoured skirmishers flanked the horde, throwing javelins and shooting arrows into The slayer shook her head, readied her javelins and followed after the info broker.

The melee passed like a haze. It could have been an hour of fighting or ten minutes. She could see Argo cracking skulls with her bare fists, and Asuna, and it was definitely her in that crimson armour, was a whirlwind of death.

The slayer exhausted her javelins quickly, impaling beavers here and there, striking one of the beaverserkers right in its head. Then she exhausted her supply of rocks. At which point, she merely picked any and all fallen weapons she could get her hands on. She had never thrown a massive bronze beaver war axe before, but it did bisect a zombie in two and that was very cool.

It took a few moments to realise the battle was over and Sinon realised she had never been struck once. Asuna came over astride her white horse and dismounted, followed by the Rat. At some point Argo's vest had caught something sharp and was in tatters, revealing her pumped and muscular body.

The horsewoman shook her head. "You two realise how long we were looking for you - AAH!"

"Aww, we missed you too Aa-chan!" said the Rat, lifting all eighty kilos of Asuna in steel without effort, massive arms expanding. Knowing her strength, it was entirely possible for her to squeeze Asuna into paste.

"Put her down, Rat, you might break her spine," said Sinon, though smiling nonetheless.

"Less competition if you think about it."

"Put me down, dumbass!" the knight yelled, whacking her on the head with gauntleted fists to no avail. Argo eventually did so but the swordswoman was smiling regardless. "Damn, I saw you crack a helmet of one of those beavers with your bare fist. Didn't realise you levelled up STR so much."

"Oh that?" She tapped the pouch on her belt where they could the click clack of glass. "That was a little pick me up from a certain alchemist."

"Huh, didn't realise you were on the juice," said Sinon.

Sinon had never seen Argo looked so offended. "Excuse me, but this is all natural! And a potion is totally different."

"Whatever you said."

"Ladies, please," pleaded Asuna.

The gates of the village opened, revealing a stout bald Orage man with a long black beard and thick arms in his forties, wearing a carpenter's apron. He had a massive intricate siege crossbow in hand. "Warchief! Did my runner reach the fort?"

"Afraid not, chief, one of my scouts found you instead."

He shook his head. "They came out of nowhere. Thought we had them beaten. And there were corpse-walkers! What's the meaning of this?"

"Long story," said Argo. "I'll fill you in on the details on the way."

"Can we get back to the fort? I need give this staff to the wizards," said Sinon.

"Are those … worms on your staff?"

"Can we please get back to the fort, please?"

"My family are ready to move out at once," said the engineer, cool and professional. "You have any carts?"

"A few in fact." All around, her cavalrymen were finishing off the wounded and looting the dead. Hwiatha was already in control of the situation.

"Not the first time we've been raided. Is there any way we can repay the Watch?"

"You can help us by getting back to the fort and talking to Kirito."

"Very well. What of you two?"

"Can I borrow that siege crossbow?" she said, pointing to the mechanical beast the engineer was holding.

"Of course. I'm more of a crafter than a marksman," said the engineer as he handed it over to the slayer. Sinon's eyes positively sparkled.

"Yeah, old man, if I can get some armour, that'd be great," said Argo, gesturing to her torn upper half.

"I think I have a breastplate in my shop, you can have it."

"Nice. It'll show off my abs," said Argo, knocking on her stomach.

"Juicehead," Sinon whispered.

"I'm going to kick your butt, Sinon-san."

Asuna let out a long sigh. Maybe the two should have gotten lost a lot longer.

There was no silence like crypt silence.

Yuuki had never gone camping in the real world due to health concerns but such opportunities were commonplace in Aincrad. Ever since running from the orphanage with all those other brats who got stuck in this Death Game, the first thing she did was run off into the wilds. Finding herself in the middle of nowhere, with nothing but a kitchen knife on her, sleeping under a bush because she was too stupid to prepare herself for the very basic concept of camping.

When she woke up, she found out she barely even made it outside the walls of the First City, and was actually not even that far from the road. Ever since that day, she vowed to always be prepared for any sort of camping trip, since that appeared to be the default state of adventurers.

Unfortunately, Yuuki was never very good at keeping vows. "You know, this ain't the first time I slept in a dungeon."

Her fellow prisoner/ex-boss said nothing, content on glowering at the wall. At some point, his bound ropes had been replaced by a pair of shackles chained to the wall. The firepit was extinguished, lest any of them get any funny ideas. Yuuki was frankly insulted, she was a more fearsome foe than Guld.

"This also ain't my first time being tied up! Why, that's how I met my rival, Asuna, and to my shame, she had to save me from those accursed beavers. If I were to face this evildoer, I will surely strike him d-"

Git Guld shushed her. "Quiet, Yuuki. I hear footsteps."

The door swung open to reveal a man she'd never seen before but instantly recognised as her captor. He had two bowls of something hot in hand and two blocks of wood. He went to Guld first and set the block down as well as the bowl that she recognised as porridge, and did the same to her. Yuuki's mind instantly went to the puppy the kids at the orphanage had adopted.

"Come on, man, you ain't even gonna feed us?"

"Too dangerous. Just eat your gruel. Be thankful I'm feeding you at all."

Guld shot both feet out at the block, sending the bowl flying and onto the back of the stranger. He yelped in surprise. "Hey, what the fuck's wrong with you?!"

"Eat shit, asshole."

The stranger patted the offending food off him and only . "Shit, this is my only shirt."

Yuuki paid close attention to her captor. His face was nondescript, a bearded man in his thirties with shaggy hair. She'd never seen him before and even if she did, probably couldn't pull him out of a crowd. The only thing that looked off about him was the necklace around his neck. It looked … unique.

"Hey, waiter!"

"What?!" he snapped.

"There's a fly in my soup."

"What?" He turned to look at the bowl. "That's not soup and I don't see any fly."

"No, it's there! Look!"

He shook his head. "I don't care. I have other business to attend to. I'm not even supposed to be here. You do one good thing …"

"You're leaving us alone in a cold dungeon for who knows how long, the least you could do is take the fly out before I eat it."

"Ugh, fine!" He squatted next to the bowl. "Where is it?"

It was hard to move, what with having her wrists and ankles bound, but if there was one thing Yuuki Konno excelled at, it was falling over and doing incredibly stupid things.

The idea was to headbutt the stranger and knock him out. However, two things she didn't consider: she was shorter than she expected and she misjudged the distance. Instead, she found herself doing a shout like those Kung Fu masters she watched on TV, in an attempt to scare and intimidate the enemy.

What actually happened is that the stranger snapped his head back, and she had her mouth wide open before falling right on her face and breaking her nose. The crack was deafening.

"Whoa! What the heck are you doing? Are you okay?"

Guld shook his head. "Goddamn idiot."

Yuuki rolled on her back and smiled, bloodied nose and all. There was something in her teeth. "Yeah, I totally meant to do that!"

His hand went to his neck. "Huh?"

Guld blinked. "N-Nezha-san?"

The face of the man had shifted into someone younger, with a fuller face and long messy brown hair. It wasn't as much as he had de-aged but more like he had swapped face entirely, a sort of holographic spell replacing his face with another, or perhaps more accurately reverting to his original one. Yuuki spat the necklace out in bits, sturdy it was not.

"You … you broke my charm!" he said, distraught.

"It was … it was you?" said Guld disbelieving.

"It was you!" said Yuuki. "Wait, I have no idea who this is."

"He's the asshole who stole the necromancer book! The boss fired his ass for that," said Guld, wrists struggling against his manacles.

"I. Did. Not. Steal. The. Book!" he shouted, jabbing his finger at the swordsman. "I was innocent!"

Guld sneered. "Oh, and explain why you have me and an innocent little girl tied up and stowed in a fucking crypt."

"I am not an innocent little girl. I am Absolute Sword," said Yuuki resolutely, blood pouring from her nose. They both ignored her.

"You know what? Fuck you, fuck Kirito and fuck the Watch!" He snatched the necklace off the ground and pocketed it. "All I wanted to do was to get back at that asshole for firing me, for ruining my life, and now you two have to get dragged into it!"

Guld blinked. "You … you're the one that instigated the riot!"

Yuuki gasped. "It was you?! Wait, what riot?" She recalled the folks at the fort mentioned it at some point, but listening to other people was one of Absolute Sword's many weaknesses.

He looked away. "No, that wasn't me. That was PoH, it was his plan to -" he shut his mouth. "I've said too much and I'm behind schedule. Ungagging the both of you was a mistake."

Now properly gagged and restraints tightened, he went to the door. "Don't. Don't even try, okay?" he said, almost pleadingly before finally shutting the door, leaving the two prisoners alone.

Guld shook his head. "Yuuki, we need to leave now and warn Kirito."

"Well, kinda hard to do that in this condition," she said, shrugging, which even now was an effort.

"Not if you can cut your restraints with broken pottery," he said, smiling.

"Oooh." Yuuki nodded. "Wait, where are we getting pottery?"

"From the bowl I just broke, dumbass! Now you're closer, so get to it!"

It took a little wriggling like a worm for Yuuki to grab the broken shards ("Ow, the porridge is hot!" "Just suck it up, you big baby!") and cut her binds off. When her hands were free, she tried to finagle with Guld's chains.

"No, just go! We don't know when Nezha will come back!"

"I won't leave you! This is my Warrior Code!"

"Unless you've got any skill in «Lockpicking» or a saw, don't bother! Just go! Warn the others!"

"Nay! A knight never leaves an innocent alone!" She was resolute in her vows, something she had never once broken before ever in the history of humanity.

"Oh for fuck's sake." Git Guld thought for a moment. "If you leave now, I'll talk to the boss-man to give you a raise."

"I won't let you down, sir," she said, snapping a salute, pocketed the broken necklace and was immediately out of the door.

Yuuki made her way through the hall, trying to gain her bearings. She had no idea how long she was down there, but it didn't matter. And help free him of course.

She was sprinting down the lighted hallway trying to recall the pile of rubble she could phase through only to halt in her steps, noticing a room she had passed before. It was unlocked.

Poking her head in, she found a curious little room. There was a desk and a chest and nothing else. The chest was not locked and she found nothing interesting save for a set of clothes; disguises maybe? But the desk had a stack of parchments alongside an unlit candle plus a pot of ink and a set of quills. The words were written in a language she didn't understand so she put it away for later.

As she turned, she saw something that really caught her eye, hanging on the door: a familiar longsword in an immaculately designed scabbard: «Wicasa's Legacy». She immediately snatched it off the nail and wore it on her belt, loving the weight and balance of the blade.

She was so gonna get a raise now.

The next few minutes passed her in a haze. She was in the darkness for a moment, scrambling and crashing into the walls too many times to count, before finally finding herself in the orange sun. Yes, freedom! She just needed to find someone to talk to.

Yet, for some reason, the courtyard was empty. There was no one there, but it seemed like everyone was on the battlements. Running up another flight of stairs, she found herself next to a couple of Watchmen, Hensel and Gretel if she recalled correctly.

"Hey! Hey! What's going on?"

The young man's mouth was agape as he pointed to the fields. The crowd at the games seemed restless and there was shouting. Weapons were in fists.

"Is that a -"

"It's going to be riot," finished Gretel. "The crowd just became … mad. This is gonna be bad."

Ah, crap. "I need to talk to Kirito. Where is he?"

"Right there, on the stage," said Hensel and Yuuki could just spot him. "Why? Don't tell me you're gonna go there? And what's wrong with your nose?"

"My nose is very cute thank you very much!" she said, and immediately went back down. Both Watchmen were calling her back. There was no time to be lost.

She just hoped she wasn't too late.

There was a heat in the air that was discomforting. The former enthusiasm and cheerfulness of the crowd had dissipated, replaced by a strong resentment. Mugs were clenched tightly, hands were on hilts, there were more frowns than smiles, hearts bearing ill will.

Nezha had a bad feeling about this.

He found himself in the sea of people and found a sense of security in it, despite the grumbling and angry yelling and the very visibly armed people. PoH found him first. "Nezha-kun."

He almost jumped out of his skin. "What?!"

"Why are you wearing Guld's face? I told you this was unwise."

He was unwilling to admit what happened in the dungeon. "Don't worry about it. What's happening?"

PoH merely smiled and gestured to the stage with his hands where Kirito and that ex-bandit bodyguard of his stood. The judges were there too. He had his arms up and was putting up the world's most corporate smile.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Please! I assure you, the prizes will be distributed later this evening!"

"You said the prizes will be distributed after the match!" yelled a man in fighting leathers. Nezha recognised them as Kid Lat, the champion of the melee.

"Yes, sir, I did! But this evening is after the match!"

"What about the thief problem you've got in this shithole! I lost all my profits the whole time I was here!" yelled a fat merchant. "We paid the tax, and you can't even protect us!"

PoH leaned over and whispered. "That was me. Spread a few rumours at the drinking hole, get a bunch of folks drunk, that sort of deal."

"You do this a lot?"

At that, the man only smirked.

"And of course, my good man, the thieves will be apprehended as quickly as we can!"

"How did they get so mad?" asked Nezha. "They were having the time of their life half a day ago."

"Well, remember that riot in the dungeon? That little potion I have, well, let's say it doesn't have a taste and people have been very careless with what they drink."

The smith blinked. "You spiked their drinks."

"I didn't even need a lot. People just throw their inhibitions when it comes to sport. You've been to soccer matches. This is no different." His smile grew wider. "Now, for the killing blow."

PoH spoke loudly and clearly, in a completely different accent and voice he had been using since Nezha had known him. "I heard the main prize, that fancy pretty longsword got stolen too!"

The sheer amount of gasps could have lowered the oxygen level by a considerable percentage. "What, for real?!" shouted Kid Lat. "That was my sword!"

Nezha had never seen Kirito gone so pale. "No, the sword is completely fine! And it will be distributed after dinner!"

"Well, where is it?" asked another.

"Completely safe in storage, worry not!"

"Fuck the sword, our team should have won!" yelled one of the athletes. "Your shit referee was bribed!"

"Bribed? Maybe if you idiots have limp wrists, you'd have won!" said another.

"Screw you!"

"Bite my ass!" Then someone threw the first punch.

The chaos amplified and Nezha felt a massive headache coming. From the sidelines, the big sheriff Shaste was coming with a group of hired deputies armed with warclubs and shields. On the other side was the ex-bandit, leading green surcoated Watchmen.

Nezha saw Kirito say something to Ser Reginald and the paladin. They nodded. "Friends! Listen here! A great army of undead is approaching! We cannot fight amongst each other! Let us retreat into the fort and -"

"Bullshit!" shrieked a woman.

"It's true, my good friends," said Ser Reginald. "A great evil is upon us and I swear it, as a knight of Granu - gah!" A tomato had struck him in the face.

"Liar! We want our money back!"

"Liar! Liar! Liar!" the crowd chanted and Robert whisked the judges away as they approached the stage.

PoH grabbed Nezha by the wrist. "Come, we must make our way escape."

Nezha felt like he was in a dream as he was dragged through the angry mob. The artificial magical heat, the anger, the sound. All of it was what he wanted but never wanted. They were going to kill him.

"Stop."

"We can's stop, fool. We need to go before the zombies come at us."

The smith felt his throat go dry. "Kirito wasn't lying?"

"Nope."

"Explain."

"Later, we need to -"

Nezha dug his heels and pulled his hand back. "No!"

Something fell on the ground. It was dust, shining red. Nezha recognise it: it was an expensive dwarven reagent, used to melt the strongest of metals called «Ironspite». A small pouch of it was five dungeon's worth in money.

Nezha stopped, his sense of weariness replaced with anger. They were just behind the bleachers, a mere stone's throw away from the field. Everything fell into place.

Their eyes finally met. "You stole the book."

PoH's smile showed teeth. "Took you long enough."

"Why? Why do all … this?"

He shrugged, as if he had done Nezha a minor harm instead something catostrophic. "I have to get back at Throatcutter and you were a useful pawn, Nezha-kun."

Guld's katana sang as it came out of the scabbard. "Fuck you."

He rolled his eyes. "Oh come on, are we really gonna do this here?'

"Fuck. You."

"I don't have time for this." He turned his back to him - him, a man armed with a sword not a foot away. "I have other business to attend to."

"I found you," said another voice.

The two men turned to see an elf, a cat on her shoulder, sword in hand. Her purple eyes bore down on Nezha's soul. "Your false faces do not work on me, interlopers."

PoH's cleaver materialised in his hand. "Lady, this is not the time."

"I will cut down both of you where you stand and serve your heads to my liege lord."

The three fighters stood next to the storm, the sunset bathing the field in an orange glow. Nezha's legs were frozen in place.

Not like this. Not like this.

Uh oh, everyone. Looks like I must commit to the bit. Didn't actually think I'd reach 200 but here we are.

It's gonna be sometime til I do, obviously, but it will be there to end the arc. Leave reviews, bla bla, etc etc. Back to Sinonon.