Oath of Rebellion

by Solid Shark

Tired of spending a life studying to reach an empty future, Asuna enters Sword Art Online, a world of swords and airships, to gain some measure of freedom. When she is trapped, she throws herself into building a new life for herself, as far from what her parents intended as she can. Meeting a dark swordsman sets her on a new course, in Aincrad's skies...

16. Chapter XVI: A Reminder We Are Not Alone

Chapter XVI: "A Reminder That We Are Not Alone"

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December 20th, 2032

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Koriki Aerodrome was loud. The sounds of construction had been going unabated, as far as Alice could tell, since midway through the previous day. When she'd checked in during the night, it had if anything been even busier than during the guild recruitment rally, as if more marionette workers had appeared from nowhere to keep up with the demand.

Which they may well have, she thought sourly, sitting on the edge of a roof on the aerodrome's outskirts. There's still so much I don't know about Kayaba's spell-world. For all I know, this may be entirely normal. Worse, I'm not sure if it's the sort of thing any Swordmaster would be expected to know.

The cacophony grew worse, with the sound of airship engines approaching, which only reminded Alice of even more troublesome facts. Looking up, she could see three ships sailing back in from the north, the foremost of them shining painfully bright in the midday sun: Liberator, Durendal, and Emancipator. The two wooden-hulled ships looked like they'd been bitten in places, and the Chrome Disaster was visibly scorched—and there was no sign whatsoever of Moondancer.

Half the reason Alice had been so eager to be the one assigned to the scout mission was to learn more about one strange, irritating Swordmaster. Instead, all she'd managed to uncover was that even other Swordmasters on the frontlines—the "clearing group", she'd heard them called—knew practically nothing about Kirito and his crew. They had a reputation for showing up for raids, stealing the show, and then vanishing again.

One thing I have in common with these mad people, I suppose. He infuriates some of them as much as he does me.

Well. That was half the reason Alice had come to the aerodrome, waiting for the small group of Swordmaster airships to return. There was at least a chance of learning something from the raid that had just concluded, and she knew one person who just might be willing to give her a report.

So she waited as the three airships settled down in their landing cradles. She watched as the Aincrad Liberation Force disembarked from Emancipator, as the Dragon Knights Brigade trudged down from Liberator, and as Lind and Kibaou managed to exchange a few words without shouting at each other. She took brief notice of the Legend Braves touching down and tossing a hearty congratulations at the larger guilds, only to march off toward Koriki by themselves.

She only absently noticed the armored man who still seemed to be the Swordmasters' only frontline engineer head over to perform maintenance. Alice was instead looking for another suit of armor, and as the ALF began to disperse, that one wasn't hard to spot. She somehow wasn't surprised when Liten quickly noticed her in turn, and waved one gauntleted hand enthusiastically.

I can practically hear the clanking from here, Alice thought, reluctantly amused, and waved back. Were we not mortal enemies, I'd have to introduce her to an Axiom Church blacksmith. Integrity Knight armor doesn't make nearly that much noise.

Deliberately pushing aside that thought, she got up and made her way down from the roof. Thoughts of who was friend and who was foe were pointless at a time when fighting was not even her mission. She could afford to be friendly, with someone who meant no harm.

---

"To a raid where nothing went horribly wrong!"

Clinking her mug of tea against Liten's, at a corner table in the Log Inn's bar, Alice couldn't help but smile at the odd toast. "Do all clearer raids go so badly wrong?" she asked, sincerely interested. "Surely it's not that remarkable for things to go according to plan."

"Well, it's my first raid, so I can't really speak from experience," Liten admitted. Pausing to take a long sip—her helmet was off for once, though she'd kept the rest of her armor—she soon continued with, "I've heard all the stories, though. Illfang was nearly a wipe, and then the raid leader got kidnapped. The Field Boss on Niian was a mess because nobody could decide who was in charge. Sequence-breaking the Skywall Tower triggered a flaming battlecruiser. And, well, you watched the Field Boss here, right?" The tank chuckled. "Not exactly a great track record."

"You have a point." Alice was torn between exasperation and rueful amusement, realizing she herself was directly responsible for two of the incidents. Though… the Swordmasters think destroying the Niian Skywall Guardian prompted my arrival? No wonder they've been trying to back off on relying so much on Liberator. "So how did today's raid go?" she asked, after a fortifying sip of her own tea. "The ships look like they ran into a dragon or two."

"Wyverns," Liten corrected. Her topaz eyes—which Alice realized with a start she hadn't actually seen before, with the other girl's habit of wearing her armor everywhere—were bright with obvious pride. "After what happened with the Birunam raid, the guilds figured something unexpected is probably going to happen with the Skywall Tower, and agreed we didn't want to risk running into wyverns in the middle of it. So, we all took off and went to clear out the nest in the middle of the island."

Alice nodded slowly. The small wyverns Icarus' Lament had deployed had given the Swordmaster airships quite enough trouble. She imagined the larger ones that nested on Sandoria would've been worse, especially in the middle of an unrelated battle. Given what I was told about the Sandoria Skywall Tower defenses, that was a smart move.

Sternly reminding herself she wasn't supposed to be pleased with the Swordmasters being clever, she simply nodded and listened as Liten continued the tale. The three guild airships had done the bulk of the fighting, while Moondancer circled the area to pick off stragglers—a task which the Dark Elven-made ship had apparently carried out quite adroitly. Still, a few wyverns had managed to both get airborne and approach the guild ships too close for Moondancer to risk firing, which had put the ground fighters to work.

Liten herself had apparently proven herself well enough to silence any lingering doubts among her guild of her capabilities. "Or at least, if anyone is still bothered, they're not stupid enough to say so," the tank went on, smirking. "Maybe because Guildmaster Kibaou's really good at shouting. Or maybe because Silica—she's a knife-fighter shorter than me; apparently she's the Guildmaster's personal agent or something—gutted a wyvern that sent Joe screaming when it almost bit his arm off."

Alice thought back to the times she'd seen the guild at large, trying to put faces to the names. The girl with the knife, she was pretty sure she remembered. And Joe… hm. The screechy one, I think? Coward.

"We did need a little help," Liten admitted, lowering her voice and glancing almost furtively around the bar. Why, Alice wasn't certain; the only other patrons she saw were obvious marionettes, a handful of other ALF members, and a couple of tourists. "But that wasn't my fault, and Shi—I mean, a DKB tank jumped over from Liberator to give me a hand. After that, it was pretty much smooth sailing."

The Integrity Knight's eyebrows went up at the tank's obvious self-correction, but she let it pass. "That's good news," she said, and meant it. If nothing else, once Kayaba's trap was broken and they all returned to the real Aincrad, it suggested tactics for the Axiom Church to use in dealing with the real wyvern nest. "Though I imagine Lind was still frustrated, stuck once again on someone else's ship. Especially with Kibaou having surpassed him by acquiring Emancipator."

At least, that was the impression she'd gotten of the DKB guildmaster. Kibaou was loud and impulsive. Lind had a clear need to be in control, and by all accounts he had no authority over Liberator at all. Emancipator's very existence was a clear wound to his pride.

"I don't think he was very happy, no," Liten agreed wryly, leaning back in her chair with another loud serious of clanks. "He wasn't really that bad, though. Probably because the DKB flagship is supposed to be ready in time for tomorrow's raid on the Skywall Tower."

Tomorrow? Alice forced herself not to show any dismay over that. Timing aside, after all, she'd known it was coming, and her orders had made clear that she had higher priorities than preventing the Swordmasters from making minor, temporary gains. Besides, there was something else about the timing that was rather more of a concern.

It was her turn to glance around the bar. She did have her hood up, but there was still a chance someone might recognize her voice. Fortunately, only the Swordmasters who'd been present at Einsla's Skywall Tower would have, and as far as she could tell none were present. Somewhat reassured, she still kept her voice low. "Though it's good for the clearing effort, of course," she said slowly, "I can't help but think there's something strange about the pace of shipbuilding. Perhaps it's just because I'm new to this sort of game, but it seems faster than it should be. And I've heard it suggested many problems came from Diavel acquiring Liberator sooner than he should have, so…."

That Alice knew perfectly well that she herself was the source of most of those problems did not reassure her. Something told her there was something else in play, and that worried her.

Apparently it wasn't her unfamiliarity with the other world's "games" responsible for her concern, as Liten's expression turned sober, as well. Brushing her orange hair back with her free hand, the resulting clank for once doing nothing to break the mood, the tank nodded slowly. "It's not just you. Now, I joined just after the ALF got Emancipator, and Guildmaster Kibaou's been kinda cagey about the whole thing, but I'm told the ship was mostly a quest reward."

"Mostly," Alice repeated, quirking one eyebrow.

"Yeah. Mostly. A complete hull, but she needed all the mechanical stuff added afterward." Liten hesitated, giving another furtive glance around the bar. "I probably shouldn't be telling you this, but after Liberator, I'm worried, and I can't really talk to anyone in the guild about it. I… think that engineer is getting all that mythril through an exploit. An infinite spawn bug. I—well, I know about some equipment that was made that way, and it turned out fine. But that was just one person's armor. All these ships being fitted out?" The tank downed the remainder of her tea like she was gulping down wine, and set the mug on the table with a sigh. "And then there's all those new shipbuilders at the aerodrome. I can't shake the feeling that something is going on."

"Mm." Honestly, Alice didn't understand everything in Liten's commentary, but the context was plain enough. That the armored girl was talking about her own armor was fairly obvious, and also fairly irrelevant. The supply of mythril, and the shipbuilders. Those are the key points. And if Liten is bothered this way, this is not Swordmaster trickery. Not exactly.

Nor, however, did Alice think it was an exploit in Kayaba's spell. As she understood it, Kayaba's bizarre scheme had arranged for egregious cases to be detected by the Senate, seemingly using the Axiom Church itself to police the spell that was acting to overthrow them. More of his deranged idea of "fairness" at play, I suppose. Regardless, a small flotilla's worth of mythril being spontaneously produced would be noticed.

Something else is going on here.

Her mission was getting a lot more complicated than she'd bargained for. She wasn't at all sure she liked it.

"Well," Alice said finally, after polishing off her own tea, "I can promise you, Liten, that I will not tell a soul that you were my source. Your secrets are safe with me." Including, she thought, grasping for a small measure of amusement in the situation, the way you spoke of the Dragon Knight tank. "Thank you. I'm glad to know I'm not simply imagining things."

"I'm just glad to have someone to talk to about it," Liten replied, worry softening into a smile. "Maybe once I get to know the rest of the guild better… but it'd still be nice to know an outsider, y'know?" She reached one gauntleted hand across the table. "So… are you, like, trying to look into things here?"

Grasping the outstretched hand with only a brief hesitation, Alice allowed herself a small smile of her own. "Let's just say, I may have found my part in all this, Liten. You are needed to fight on the frontlines. Someone else, perhaps, needs to act behind the scenes. Someone who doesn't clank quite as much."

Liten grinned, taking the jab in good humor. "You got me!" She squeezed Alice's hand, then let go and pushed her chair back. "Well, I'd better be getting back to the guild. I don't want anyone to think this was anything but a friendly chat, right?" Bringing up her Mystic Scribing, she materialized her helmet. "Any chance of you at least joining up with one of the independent ships for tomorrow's raid?"

"Perhaps," Alice allowed carefully. "I hope to have some role, at least." Though not what you might think. …At least I won't be fighting her, regardless. "Though, speaking of independent ships… do you know anything about Moondancer?"

"You mean that Dark Elf ship that pops up for boss raids?" Liten shook her head, rattling with the motion. "Just that Guildmaster Kibaou grumbles about them, but not as much as he does about the DKB. Sorry, I'm still new to the frontlines."

"No, that's fine. Thank you."

The two of them walked out of the Log Inn together, and once on the street Liten broke away to clank down the street toward her guild's current lodgings. Alice watched her go with mixed feelings. Kayaba is more a monster than we suspected, to drag innocents into his schemes. Kirito clearly has ties to this world, as does Diavel, and Tengu knows something. But Liten, and probably others? They face death they do not deserve. All they want is to escape.

She sighed, turning resolutely away. Such matters were, for good or ill, above her responsibility. The most she could do was gather information, and advise Sir Bercouli to at least try to find a solution that didn't involve the wholesale massacre of the Swordmasters. Anything more was out of her hands.

Besides, Alice thought grimly, setting off back toward the aerodrome, something else is definitely going on here. If it's not a Swordmaster plot, I need to know what it is. And that engineer is the key to it. Time to find answers.

…This cannot possibly be as difficult a problem as that lunatic Kirito, after all.

---

Silver light trailed through the air as the sword traced an inverted triangle with alarming speed. A fist lashed out, striking nothing but sending out a blast of air from its passage. A yellow flash accompanied a kick that spun up into a full backflip. Metal claws zipped out at the end of a long line, latched onto a target perched atop a ship's rail, and yanked it back, where it was promptly cut in half by the dark sword blade.

Tilnel, sitting on a log bench a dozen meters from Moondancer, watched her sister's friend practice with a mix of fascination and mild terror. Though she'd stood on the sidelines as Kizmel and Valak trained in the past, she'd never seen anything quite like this. Not even when the two of them sparred, despite how vicious her sister had sometimes been in forcing her then-betrothed to prove himself worthy. Kirito, long black coat billowing as he fought an imaginary opponent, was something else entirely.

"Please keep an eye on Kirito for us," Kizmel had asked her, when Moondancer returned from the raid on the wyvern nest. "He has a habit of pushing himself farther than he should. I thought I'd convinced him to slow down, but something about the wyverns seems to have set him off again. I'd rather he not be left completely alone right now."

At first, Tilnel had just been so relieved that her sister had again returned safely from battle she would've agreed to anything. As Kizmel and Asuna had gone off to the blacksmith and tailor to have their weapons and armor repaired after battling the wyverns, it hadn't occurred to her that there might really be a need for her supervision. Though she'd still only briefly spoken with Moondancer's captain, her impression was that he was a competent pilot and skilled swordsman, who'd gotten them all the way to Sandoria with an abundance of caution.

Even the fact that Kirito had stuck close to Moondancer after their return hadn't struck her as at all odd. While Commander Savrak had come to—perhaps grudgingly—trust the humans, Kirito did still wield a Cold Iron blade. It was, if anything, considerate of him to keep out of the way, in the area of the camp set aside for Moondancer and her crew.

Watching Kirito spin into a series of slashes and spins that lacked the Sword Skill charm's power along with its smooth precision, Tilnel began to see the problem. Throwing himself into training had been the very first thing he'd done after seeing off Knight and Squire, and now, half an hour later, he showed no signs of slowing down. With blade, fists, feet, and clawshot, his regimen was disturbingly intense. There was something clearly personal in that intensity, which might've frightened her had Kizmel not so firmly vouched for him.

I've never seen anyone with such an unpredictable style, either. As she watched, Kirito's left arm snapped straight up, launching his clawshot at part of the wooden scaffolding Moondancer's crew had erected by their ship. A moment later, he was flying upward—and then, perhaps five meters up, he released the claws, in the same moment swinging his Anneal Blade up to his shoulder. Almost too fast to see, a Sonic Leap pulled him back down to the ground, the charm's power assisting gravity for a blow that surely would've killed anyone it hit. I'm surprised it didn't kill him, too, she thought, eyes wide, even as he launched into a backflip that took him right back where he started.

Tilnel had seen Kizmel and Valak practice many times, alone and against each other. She'd been an observer as other knights and armsmen trained, ready to step in to treat the inevitable injuries. She was an herbalist, a healer, not a fighter herself, but she'd seen her share in action. One thing that they'd all shared was a distinct focus on but a single weapon, mastering it above all else.

Kirito transitioned smoothly from a Horizontal with the sword in his right hand to powerful blow with his clenched left. He snatched another target—a simple log—from Moondancer's rail with his clawshot, and cut it in half the instant it came within reach of his blade. He cut and spun and slashed without the charm's assistance, clearing trying to ingrain the motions into pure, physical reflex.

Tilnel had wanted to know more about her sister's friend, who lacked Asuna's chivalrous ambitions yet was obviously himself driven by more than merely the Swordmasters' desire to escape the transient world. Watching Kirito push himself furiously, almost desperately, she began to wonder if she should be worried. About him… or perhaps for him.

The raid had, according to Kizmel, gone about as smoothly as any battle had in the transient world. It had still resulted in her and Asuna's armor getting dinged and torn, and she knew no battle with wyverns would've left the helmsman with smooth sailing. Kirito had to have been tired as of when the ship returned to the camp.

I wish Kizmel and Asuna would hurry up, she thought, brow creasing as Kirito ran through every Sword Skill he had, starting one the moment the backlash of the previous had released him. Surely either of them would know better than I how close he is to his limits.

But her sister and her squire were deep in one of their discussions on what was expected of a Pagoda Knight, Kizmel trusting Tilnel to know when things were about to go too far. For once, Tilnel wished her sister had perhaps a little less faith in her.

Her fears were validated a moment later, when Kirito's clawshot missed its mark ever so slightly. Once again latching onto the scaffolding, its grip wasn't quite as secure as before, and when he attempted to swing himself up and onto Moondancer's deck, the claws slipped free just as he began his arc.

Thud!

Wincing at the impact of Swordmaster on hull, Tilnel hurried over, reaching him just as he fell back to the ground. For just a second, he simply lay there, limbs splayed out, a vaguely dumbfounded look on his face. "…Ow…?"

That he sounded genuinely unsure reminded her that Swordmasters didn't feel pain any more than Aincrad's natives, in the transitory world. It almost made it funny, the closest she'd come to finding anything amusing since learning of Valak's death. Remembering that the camp was not protected by the charms that prevented harm within proper settlements stifled that amusement, and she quickly reached down to pull him to his feet. "My sister is right," she said, shaking her head. "You truly are too reckless, Kirito."

"I knew what I was doing," he protested, resisting her grip just enough to retrieve his sword. He was, to her relief, careful to keep its Cold Iron edge away from her as he sheathed it. "I just slipped, that's all."

"You slipped because you pushed yourself too hard," Tilnel retorted, pulling him back toward the bench she'd been using. "I'm a healer, Kirito. I know fatigue when I see it. You should've rested at least ten minutes ago. You do know such a lapse in concentration could've killed you, don't you?"

In the transitory world, healing was as simple as drinking a potion or invoking the magic of the still-rare crystals, at least for Swordmasters. Even so, Tilnel firmly pushed Kirito down onto the bench and began to examine him. Kizmel had mentioned the spell seemed to be evolving, with Kirito having acquired quite a nasty scar. She was not inclined to take chances.

"You're not invincible, even as a Swordmaster," she continued, "and I know you still get tired. You need to pay closer attention to your own limits."

Perhaps something in the tone reminded him of Kizmel, because Kirito stopped resisting. Or perhaps, judging from the way his gaze flicked toward something only he could see, prompting a wince, he'd simply noticed he had, in fact, been injured by the impact. Either way, she wasn't going to complain about her patient becoming more cooperative.

She did, perhaps, take some small satisfaction in his grimace at the potion she forced him to drink. Hopefully, the bitter taste would do something to remind him to be more careful.

It took only moments to assure Tilnel that he'd taken only the vague numerical damage of the transitory world, rather than breaking anything important. Besides, perhaps, his head, but from what Kizmel's said, that may be an older injury. That in mind, she didn't let him get up, instead staring sternly at him until he gave her a quick, nervous nod.

Only then did she sit on the bench herself, and sigh. "Your skills are impressive, I'll admit," she said then, glancing from him to the remains of the targets he'd snatched up and destroyed. "I'm no fighter, but even I can see that. But, Kirito… why do you push yourself so hard? I've seen Asuna train with Kizmel. She's obviously very talented in her own right, and you've both survived this far despite not being warriors before last month. So why do you take these risks?"

Tilnel had already asked Kizmel, once. Her sister had only smiled sadly, and said it wasn't her place to say. She'd been reluctant to ask herself, but seeing him push himself to the point of harm, as a healer, she couldn't let it go.

Maybe Kirito understood that. Maybe, as she'd suspected from some of what her sister had said, he really was just shy, not the chilly loner he seemed at a glance. Or maybe, she mused, watching him visibly gather his thoughts, Kizmel has just managed to push her way in enough to loosen him up a little. She wouldn't have given him that dark star if she hadn't cracked his shell.

"It's… well, it's going to sound crazy," he said finally, with a rueful smile. "But… I'm trying to reach the point of being able to fight an Integrity Knight one-on-one. I know, I know," he added quickly, raising his hands when she opened her mouth to speak. "They're way stronger than Swordmasters, and it's going to be months at least before that changes. That's why I'm not just training with my sword. Everything I've heard says that Integrity Knights rely on brute strength, mostly. So… I'm thinking outside the box. If I can't fight stronger, I can at least fight smarter, right?"

There was some logic in that. Not enough to keep Tilnel's reaction from mostly consisting of horror. She'd never personally seen an Integrity Knight, let alone one in the middle of battle, but Kizmel—the historian of the family—had gone into enough detail before they'd set out on this mission. Kizmel, who had been a Knight for longer than Kirito had been alive—probably; she did have some trouble estimating human ages—had said flat-out that if she ever encountered an Integrity Knight without at least ten Pagoda Knights for support, she was running away immediately.

Kirito didn't seem quite that insane. The thought that he might be—and that Kizmel's life was in his hands, every time Moondancer went out—sent a chill down her spine.

He clearly saw her reaction, and quickly shook his head. "I'm not crazy, okay? …Not that crazy," he amended, when she fixed him with a disbelieving look. "I don't want to fight one if I can help it. But sooner or later, I'm going to have to. Because I'm a Swordmaster… and because I owe a debt."

Then, finally, Kirito explained it to her. Surprisingly easily, given his evident shyness, but then Tilnel realized he'd told the story at least once before, to her sister. The story of his time as a Lost Child of Vector, and his friends from Rulid Village. The story of living in two worlds… and how it had all gone wrong.

She considered, at the end of it, pointing out that Alice's fate was not his responsibility. The wry smile on his face, though, told her Kizmel already had, and it hadn't changed his mind. And responsibility or not, she was his friend. Kizmel would do no less, I'm sure. Even so, she couldn't help but ask, "What if you can't save her, Kirito? If you knew you couldn't bring her back, would you still push yourself this hard?"

"I might as well." Kirito's smile turned crooked. "I don't think Eugeo will just let it go, even if I do. And, Tilnel… I'm a Swordmaster. My real body is being kept alive by machines, and it won't last forever. We have to get home, and there's no way the Axiom Church won't start sending the Integrity Knights after us all, sooner or later. Better to be prepared sooner, right?"

"He's quite right, Sister." Boots crunching on fallen leaves heralded Kizmel's arrival, Asuna by her side, their armor gleaming with fresh oiling. "Much as we are bound by the need to secure the Keys, the Swordmasters have no choice but to continue on. For them, as for us, it's victory or death."

"Though it looks like we'll be facing them sooner than most," Asuna said wryly, fixing Kirito with an exasperated look. "I don't know, though… somehow, I think it'll work out. Alice at least gave Kirito-kun a chance to talk last time, and that Eugeo guy—"

"Eugeo, to judge from that encounter, is distracted by his grudge," Kizmel finished, nodding."If Kirito can keep a clear head himself—" it was her turn to give him a pointed look; he sheepishly scratched the back of his head "—that is something that can be exploited. Especially if Kirito does, indeed, master a wider range of skills. One thing Integrity Knights are known for: they master their Divine Object weapons to the exclusion of almost all else. Though they may use magic from time to time, it is the weapons the Administrator forges for them that form the core of their tactics. That can be exploited, with training."

"Later," Asuna said firmly. Her gaze sharpened; Tilnel was amused to see Kirito shrink from it, when by all accounts he was calm while standing on a burning airship. "I saw some of that last stunt, Kirito-kun. You're done with training today. No arguments!" She stepped closer to him, gripped his shoulder, and yanked him to his feet. "We're all having lunch, and then we'll talk about what happens next."

Lunch. That sounded like a marvelous idea, and Tilnel found it a welcome distraction from the unnerving talk of battling Integrity Knights. Even better was watching Kirito flush when Kizmel took hold of his other shoulder, trapping him between the two girls as they began to march him off to the mess tent.

"Speaking of what happens next," Tilnel said thoughtfully, as they wove their way through the hustle and bustle of the camp, armsmen and knights patrolling dutifully, "has there yet been any word about the other Lyusulan camp on Sandoria? The one by the Spirit Tree?"

"Not that I've heard," her sister replied, a frown creasing her brow. "I did ask Commander Savrak, as we spotted scouts returning on our way in, but all he would tell me was that 'matters are progressing'. Given that that sounds more like something a priest or a politician might say, I admit to some concern…."

---

Alice still had only the weakest grasp of the "game mechanics" to which the Swordmasters were so accustomed, which had apparently served as the basic framework for Kayaba's spell-world. One thing she had had plenty of time to learn about was the concept of the marionettes—the "NPCs"—that formed the bulk of the spell-world's population. From the way they acted according to rote scripts, to how there were a limited number of "templates" for their appearance, she'd seen enough of them in Centoria City to learn the basics well enough.

Observing the rapid construction going on at Koriki Aerodrome from the roof of one of the outlying buildings, she quickly came to one inescapable conclusion. Those shipbuilders are not human, marionette or otherwise.

The small army of carpenters that had appeared literally overnight kept their heads covered at all times. They only responded to inquiries or instructions from the observing Swordmasters quietly and curtly, never interrupting their work for more than a moment or two. They were simply brusque and, above all, efficient.

Marionettes, yes. Their motions are simply too perfect to anything else. Human? No. Those are elves, I'm sure of it. But where did they come from? And why?

Certainly the Swordmasters had made some contact with both the Forest and Dark Elves; Durendal and Moondancer had proven that much to Alice's satisfaction, and she had strong suspicions about Emancipator, as well. Large-scale cooperation was another matter. Knowing the elven kingdoms, it was very unlikely, and she was certain the Swordmasters in town would've been talking about it, were that the case.

More concerning still was the matter of how they'd arrived in the first place. As Alice understood it, the spell-world only spontaneously generated monsters. Elven and human marionettes were another matter; if not a fixed number, at least not something replenished at whim. They had to come from somewhere.

Meaning either one of the elven kingdoms has a way to bypass the Skywalls, there's another World Gate that somehow slipped our notice, or something even stranger is going on. …I don't like this.

One common factor did become apparent, over the course of an hour or so: the foremen of the shipbuilding crews all, at one time or another, discreetly broke away from their work to speak to someone at edge of the landing field. A figure in full armor, whose "cursor" definitively marked him as a Swordmaster, and who seemed to acknowledge the foremen's reports as curtly as they acknowledged the Swordmasters.

Nezha. The engineer, Nezha. That's what they called him. He's the key to all this. I'm surprised the Swordmasters themselves don't find him more suspicious. What engineer feels the need to wear full armor, when not even on the battlefield?

Alice watched carefully after noticing that detail, and within another hour every foreman had made some kind of report to Nezha. After the last one had gone back to his work, Nezha stood still for a long moment, and then seemed to sigh, shoulders slumping. With a weary air visible even with his armor, he turned and slowly began to plod toward Koriki, head hanging.

The Swordmasters eagerly awaiting the completion of their airships hardly seemed to notice. The hooded shipbuilders continued their work with mechanical precision. No one seemed to pay any mind to the engineer's departure at all.

She'd learned all she could, simply watching the mindless work. Abandoning her observation, Alice slipped down from the roof, and began to carefully shadow Nezha on his tired trek to town.

---

"Squire, Knight, Knight Commander," Asuna murmured, carefully tracing the Latin letters onto the ethereal page. "Lord Commander, and then… um…."

"Grandmaster," Kizmel supplied, glancing up from her bowl of stew. "Equaled in rank only by the High Priest, and subordinate only to the Grand Duke and Queen Idhrendis herself." She paused to take a quick bite, then smiled. "I'm glad to see you taking your studies so seriously, Asuna."

"Well, even if I'm only an apprentice who might not be in for the long haul, I'd better be doing it right while it lasts." The musketeer dutifully copied down those last ranks in her notes, ending with a flourish of her fountain pen, and saved the result. "I don't want to get in trouble," she added, dismissing her menu and reaching for her own bowl, "and I really don't want to get you in trouble, Kizmel. Not after you went out on a limb for me."

Asuna had discovered the more stylized note-taking application in her menu completely by accident, idly exploring the options one sleepless night. Since then, she'd found it very useful to keeping track of both Kirito's exposition on how SAO worked, and Kizmel's instruction on what it meant to be an apprentice-squire in the Pagoda Knights. Yet more of Kayaba—or, she's supposed, someone else on the development team—maintaining a meticulous attention to detail, she assumed. The stylus manifesting as a fountain pen certainly seemed to point to the mad programmer's own touch.

Having committed more of the day's lesson to notepad and memory, she applied herself to lunch. She'd just scolded Kirito for neglecting his own health, and she had no intention of being a hypocrite. Besides, the Dark Elf camp had a very talented chef, and the stew he made from wild game was a wonderful change from the field rations to which Moondancer's crew so often had to resort. She was going to savor every last bite.

Fortunately, the sentiment was apparently unanimous, which was why she and Kirito were gathered with Kizmel and Tilnel on a pair of log benches, toward the edge of Moondancer's landing space. Without even discussing it, they'd all picked up bowls and spoons from the mess tent and headed right back to the ship, away from both the knights and the NPC—marionette, she reminded herself, going by the in-game term—armsmen.

Why even Tilnel seemed to want distance from the rest of the camp, Asuna wasn't sure. She was grateful, though, since it meant she didn't have to feel guilty about Kizmel staying close. Much as she enjoyed the Knight's company, the last thing she wanted to do was take her away from her grieving sister.

"Is there a reason you take notes by hand, Asuna?" Tilnel was giving her a curious look, tucked in close to her sister on the opposite bench. "Kizmel's shown me her Mystic Scribing, and I saw it's possible to simply—type, I believe was the word—the letters, without taking the time to draw them. Wouldn't that be faster?"

"It would," Asuna acknowledged, between spoonfuls of stew. "But the motions of writing them out myself help drill the information into my head. Makes it easier to remember. It's a studying trick I learned back in… school." Shying away from the sudden reminder of the other world—the one she was having more trouble thinking of as the "real" one with each passing day—she gestured with her spoon to the fourth member of the group. "Like what Kirito-kun's been doing with his training. When he's not overdoing it, anyway. Right, Kirito-kun?"

Sitting to Asuna's left, caught with a mouthful of stew, Kirito couldn't quite choke out a response. The way he gestured to himself with his spoon, a wide-eyed look on his face, nonetheless easily communicated, "Who, me?"

"Yes, you," Kizmel said dryly, clearly picking up the same cues Asuna did. "Though I will say, my friend, when you're not overdoing it, I'm impressed. You may still be a novice at fighting without charms to guide your blade, but your footwork speaks of someone with considerably more experience. Is it simply from your time as a beta tester? Or," she mused, a teasing smile curving her lips, "maybe another hobby? Dancing, perhaps."

Asuna almost choked on her own soup, snicker fighting against her full mouth. Kirito did, prompting him to quickly snatch up a glass of water and chug it down. Then, "How did you know—?! Ah, no. No, it's… not that."

Not that? She was torn between incredulous amusement at the implication that Kirito, of all people, did know how to dance, and concern at the way his demeanor suddenly shifted. No. Not just his demeanor. I can… feel it.

It was still extremely disorienting, feeling two hearts beating in her chest alongside her own. She'd long since learned to tell which was which, though, and Kizmel's deep thump maintained its steady rhythm. Kirito's lighter beat, however, picked up, betraying a tension he mostly kept from his face.

She'd felt that tension earlier in the day, too, when fighting the wyverns. At first she'd thought it had been simply from the battle; even an "easy" battle in Aincrad could end in death, after all, if a single mistake were made. Only after the fighting was over had she begun to suspect the draconic enemies reminded him a little too much of the mounts used by Integrity Knights.

But why would something as simple as this set him off? He can't be that embarrassed about dancing, can he?

Asuna wasn't the only one who noticed a nerve had somehow been touched. Kizmel and Tilnel exchanged a quick, unreadable glance—reminding Asuna painfully of secret looks she and her brother would share, when their mother was, well, herself—and by unspoken agreement the three of them stayed silent as Kirito polished off his stew. Whether he was just gathering his thoughts or trying think of how to politely brush them off, they were all willing to wait. All of them certainly had traumas of their own, after all.

"Not the—not dancing," Kirito said finally, setting his thoroughly empty bowl on the log bench. "I… well, my family has a kendo tradition. Sport swordplay," he added, at the elven sisters' blank looks. "A sport version of what, say, Tengu uses. It's not the same as real fighting, though, and I was never any good at it anyway; I dropped out about six years ago. But I never quite lost the tricks of balance, I guess."

Ooh, boy. It was Asuna's turn to trade a look with Kizmel this time. It didn't take a shared heartbeat to realize there was a lot to the story that their friend was glossing over. Between the timing and the fact that Kirito's footwork was way too good to just be an amateur's supplemented by extra time in VR, there was probably an entire book's worth of story he wasn't giving.

One which neither of them had any intention whatsoever of prying at. It was painful enough talking about the world they couldn't reach. Family was a whole additional layer of complicated. If Asuna wasn't ready to talk about her strained relationship with parents—much less what her mother kept threatening her with—and Kizmel was unprepared to broach whatever baggage she had, neither of them were going to begrudge Kirito's silence.

Something he, to Asuna's relief, plainly recognized. Without seeming intent, his hand reached up to brush the dark star gem Kizmel had given him, and he gave them a shy smile. Cute, Asuna almost thought, before firmly squashing the notion. He was her friend, but he was also brooding, reckless, annoying, and just generally impossible. He was not "cute".

"So, um," Kirito said at length, conspicuously clearing his throat, "are you sure you guys shouldn't be eating with the other Knights? I mean, Asuna's a squire, but I'm just a… a contracted privateer, basically. I don't want to cause you any trouble with the others…."

Right. Martyr complex, too. Asuna rolled her eyes.

Kizmel snorted, and Asuna was surprised when Tilnel let out the briefest, quietest chuckle herself. "And leave you to brood by yourself? Hardly. Besides, Trifoliate Knights, Kirito," the Knight reminded him. "I—Asuna and I, rather—belong to the Pagoda Knights, remember?"

"I'm an herbalist, not a Knight, and even I understand it," Tilnel agreed. "Believe me, Kirito, simply being in the camp is 'causing trouble'. Mingling too much would be worse."

"Oh, yeah," Asuna groaned. She took a moment to finish off her soup, then brought up her menu and tabbed over to her Royal Guard notes. "Inter-service rivalry like you wouldn't believe. Do you know they hold tournaments just to decide who gets the best assignments, sometimes?" It was her turn to snort. "Never mind it's clearly the Pagoda Knights who do best at the special missions…."

…Oops. She had a sudden suspicion she'd said that just a little too loudly, and nervously glanced over her shoulder at the camp. The marionette armsmen walking pre-programmed patrols hadn't reacted at all—they stayed away from Moondancer as a matter of course, which she was pretty sure had something to do with Kirito carrying a steel sword—but two knights over by the Commander's tent had turned dour looks on her. Abruptly reminded that she herself was a mere squire, she shrunk down on the bench, wondering if she should put up her hood.

Kizmel scoffed. "Carry yourself proudly, Asuna. Apprentice you may be, but you are a member of the Pagoda Knights. We do not answer to the Trifoliate Knights, however envious they may be. And if they are envious," she added, deliberately raising her voice, "then perhaps they should train hard enough to match—"

She cut off suddenly, ironically causing Asuna to sit straight up out of simple alarm. Then she noticed the elven sisters' ears were both twitching, and a second later she heard it herself: engines coming in. There hasn't been any sign of the Forest Elves since we shot down their vanguard the day we got here. That must be….

Soon enough, Moonshadow's long, dark hull emerged from the mist circling the camp, swooping down toward the landing field with a grace that belied her size.

"I wondered where Captain Emlas had gone this morning," Kizmel remarked, pushing herself to her feet. "Commander Savrak would only tell me it 'might or might not' have something to do with us. Maddeningly cryptic, but I suppose he has his own orders." She gestured toward the airship, as her engines fell silent. "Shall we? Honestly, I believe we're more likely to get a straight answer from the Captain. Strange days, to be sure, when the sailors are the more straightforward, but then the days have been strange ever since Kayaba sprang his trap, have they not?"

---

Alice wasn't honestly sure what she was expecting to find, trailing the engineer Nezha from the aerodrome back to Koriki. Without knowing what he was really up to, she could hardly guess what he intended, leaving his work behind. Not that I know enough about airship construction to know whether he even has anything to do at the moment, she admitted to herself, moving as inconspicuously as she could through Koriki's crowd of Swordmasters and marionettes. If nothing else, this mission is showing me I have much to learn about the world.

Whatever she was expecting, it was not to see Nezha walk to a bar on a backstreet in Koriki, right in the middle of the day. A sign over the log building proclaimed it to be the Woodsmen's Bar, leaving little room for doubt but much for confusion. She was even more confused when Nezha paused for nearly a full minute outside the swinging doors, as if reluctant to take the final step.

Just as Alice ducked behind a nearby tree, just in case he turned back, Nezha finally pushed the doors open. Even from a distance of about ten meters back, she faintly heard a booming voice from inside, seemingly greeting the engineer. "Welcome back, Nezuo!"

Nezuo?

Only one other Swordmaster she knew of went by two different names. Perhaps it was just coincidence, but it piqued her interest even more, and she held her breath, listening intently—only to hear absolutely nothing further. Nothing but birds, the wind, and the distant hubbub of traffic on Koriki's main streets.

It took Alice a few moments to understand why, and she muttered a curse under her breath. In the spell-world, closed doors blocked all sound. Even, illogical though it was, swinging doors with broad gaps above and below. Did Kayaba design this world to be as inconvenient as possible?

For a moment, she considered simply brazenly walking into the bar in the guise of a customer. So far, after all, she'd managed reasonably well at passing for a Swordmaster, and if Nezha had chosen this place to meet with confederates, it was unlikely that she'd run into any of the clearers who knew her face. By the same token, though, it occurred to her that going in at all would stand out, or at the least make Nezha and his contact more cautious.

Well. There was one advantage to Nezha going to a bar at a time when most Swordmasters were either in the field or supervising the construction of their ships. Between the timing and the location, there seemed to be hardly anyone around save marionettes.

Making a snap decision, Alice darted to the side of the bar, edged over to the entrance, and began to very carefully apply pressure to the door. As with most things in the spell-world, leverage worked a bit oddly, but soon she had the door swinging slowly, steadily, and gently. Five degrees, then ten, and still no sound carried through—then, at precisely fifteen degrees, the chatter of the bar reached her ears.

Mostly, it was just the scripted, repetitive conversations of marionettes, nothing but flavor Kayaba had added to make his spell-world feel "real". Straining her ears, though, Alice soon picked out the softer, more distinct words of Swordmasters.

"Sounds like it's going well, Nezuo," the deep voice she'd heard before said. "Lind was even putting up with Kibaou leading the raid this time, he was so happy about his new ship. So how was business today? The aerodrome certainly looked busy with construction when we landed!"

"Um… there's fifteen ships under construction, now," Nezha answered, voice timid and made tinny by his helmet. "Ten of them are expected to be in the Skywall Tower raid, and I think the rest are for casuals and some up-and-coming clearers."

"That's good news!" a third, higher voice chimed in. "With that many ships, the raid shouldn't go haywire like back at Niian, and we're getting tons of Cor. That'll make it easier for us to catch up and stay that way." That voice paused for a moment, then continued, quieter, "And that should just about finish our end of the bargain, right?"

Catch up? Bargain? Unable to resist, Alice shifted sideways just far enough to get a glimpse of the interior. As she'd thought, most of the patrons were merely marionettes, and not many of them; even in Kayaba's spell-world, few chose to imbibe so early in the day. A few scattered people dressed as ordinary residents of Sandoria, like a single drunkard at the bar.

But clustered around one table at the far corner was the armored engineer Nezha… and five men in shining armor, dressing the part of knights but not quite carrying off the bearing. Shining mythril armor, if Alice was any judge.

The Legend Braves. Nezha… is working with the Legend Braves. Of course he is, it should've been obvious. The question remains, though, what are they doing? And why?

Whatever it was, it had them looking a good deal wearier than the front they presented to the rest of the clearing group. They were smiling, especially the high-voiced one with the spear, but there was a definite air of exhaustion about them, and Alice didn't think it was because of the—by Liten's account fairly smooth—raid from which they'd recently returned.

"Guys… I think we should stop now."

Nezha's quiet, muffled voice turned that weariness to sudden tension. The Braves looked at each other, grimaces and shifty looks were exchanged, and then all eyes turned to Nezha. The engineer's own shoulders visibly stiffened, but he said nothing more.

The stocky man who seemed to be their leader—Orlando, if Alice remembered the gossip correctly—was the one to finally break the silence. "Why, Nezuo? Everything is going smoothly. We've made back our original losses, and then some. And we're so close to meeting the target set by the quest. Even if we just keep this up to the end of Sandoria…."

"I know," Nezha whispered, so quietly Alice had to strain to hear. "But… something isn't right. All those new workers, and… you've heard what the Rat put out about some quests, right? I'm worried, Orlando. I… think we're in over our heads on this one."

Another stretch of silence, as the Braves exchanged looks she couldn't quite interpret. Then one of them, a short man with a two-handed sword at his hip—Beowulf, she thought his name was—turned an inscrutable expression on Nezha. "We're doing this for you, Nezuo," he said, low and tense. "So far, it's going smoothly, and you're getting cold feet now?"

One more, shorter pause, and then Nezha took a deep breath. "Am I worth it?"

That question seemed to silence even the marionettes, and Alice found herself holding her breath.

Maybe the quiet reminded them of the world around them. Maybe she twitched in surprise, nudging the door. Either way, before anyone could properly respond to Nezha's question, the high-voiced one started to rise from his chair. "Hey, guys, the door—"

No more time for caution. Alice fled from the door, leapt for the side of the building next door, and used window ledges and gutters to quickly haul herself up. She had a brief moment to wryly reflect she was spending entirely too much time on rooftops lately, and then any amusement was brushed away by the lanky Brave who burst out of the bar's door, just a moment too late to spot her.

Orlando followed swiftly, and the two of them looked quickly, almost frantically, across the street and down both sides. Neither of them drew weapons, but Alice knew that might simply have been because they knew of the charms nullifying violence within town borders.

Only when they gave up and retreated back into the bar did she let a breath escape. An Integrity Knight had no business being so concerned at the possibility of being caught by mere Swordmasters, of course, yet there was more risk at that moment than merely being seen by the Braves, and she knew it.

Something is definitely afoot here, and the Swordmasters are not responsible. And if they're at risk from something that has nothing to do with the Integrity Knights… what is it?

Alice didn't want to think about Tengu's cryptic words. She wanted even less to do what she was considering instead. It was utter insanity, and had the potential to destroy her cover in the worst way possible. Yet as a Knight, she had no choice. Not if she wanted to uphold her own honor. Uncle Bercouli, she was sure, would understand the risk she was about to take.

Dropping back down to the street—startling a marionette in the process—Alice turned away from the Woodsmen's Bar and strode back toward Koriki's main street. I need to talk to Liten again. She's the only one I know who could do this for me.

A part of her was amused by it. She was turning to a Swordmaster for help—and she genuinely meant to act in their best interests, for once. Not exactly what she'd expected, when her uncle had sent her out to spy….

---

Alice had the unfortunate feeling she might've set in motion something she couldn't stop. Something that would at the least lead to the early end of her mission, and very possibly to something she couldn't even foresee. Perhaps something terrible.

But I had no choice. As a Knight, this is my duty. Even if some of the other members of the Order might never see it that way.

The irony of a Knight acting to uphold her own honor by skulking about on rooftops like a thief or assassin wasn't lost on her. Crouched low on one particular roof on the outskirts of Koriki, under the failing evening light, scrap of parchment clutched in gauntleted fingers, she chose to be amused by it, rather than ashamed—if only to keep at bay the chill she felt at what else she was doing. Liten, to her relief, had at least accepted her explanation of why she wanted to act through a third party, but given the nature of who she wanted to reach, she wasn't at all sure everyone was fooled.

[Nezha hangs out at the Lumbering Inn, at the edge of town] the paper in her hand read. [Since clearing reached Sandoria, he's mostly been there or the aerodrome. Sometimes the Woodsmen's Bar. Doesn't talk to anybody except for engineering requests. Definitely one of the Braves, BTW. "Nezha"? Make it "Nataku". Kicking myself for not catching it sooner.]

That was all Alice had asked Liten to request of the Fuumaningun. Her sort-of friend among the Swordmasters had accepted the request readily enough, sharing her concerns about the oddities in ship construction, and had even laughed a little at Alice's suggestion that it was best to do things as indirectly as possible, given the Fuumaningun Grandmaster's reputation. That, given guild politics, there was a legitimate reason had somewhat eased Alice's guilt at concealing her true motivations for the obfuscation.

Which might've been the end of it, had that been the end of the message received in return for the exorbitant fee.

[Your "friend" isn't the only one worried, Lii-chan. To the one really reading this: you find out anything more, and I'll give you a discount on anything else I pick up. You're right, something stinks, and I want to head it off before anybody else gets killed. My agent will find you when the time comes. -The Rat.]

It wasn't surprising that Grandmaster Argo had realized Liten was acting as an intermediary. The implication that she expected to be able to find the actual client made Alice's hair stand on end.

But this has to be done. If I'm wrong, well, I could hardly know without looking. If I'm right, the Swordmasters may have an enemy in common with us, besides Kayaba.

The sound of footsteps, heavier and with more of a clank than the local marionettes, brought Alice's attention back to the present. Peering over the edge of the rooftops, she spotted the armored figure she'd been waiting for, plodding down the backstreet with heavy steps. If anything, he appeared even more melancholy than when she'd seem him earlier.

Now or never, she thought. She eased back from the edge, then hurried to climb down the side of the building. She'd picked one two doors down from the Lumbering Inn, far enough away to not be immediately noticeable but close enough to reach the inn quickly; though it seemed, given her target's lethargic pace, she could've been more cautious still without a problem.

Nezha was both slow and painfully unobservant. Alice was able to slip around to the corner of the Lumbering Inn's front well before he reached its entrance, and it was hardly any effort at all to walk right up behind him before he quite walked in. "Excuse me, Engineer," she said quietly. "I believe we need to talk."

The engineer jumped a meter in the air, showing in his surprise more energy than she'd yet seen out of him. Landing awkwardly, he stumbled over the steps leading to the inn's door; flailing comically, he only barely caught himself before falling over. He fumbled more, trying to turn around without toppling, and when he did, he was still visibly trembling. "E-excuse me?" he got out, clutching at the wall to keep his balance. "I'm sorry, if this is an airship order, I'm off for the night. If you'd like to come to the aerodrome tomorrow, I'll be open for business then…."

He doesn't want business. Whatever is going on, he really does want no part of it. Alice didn't let that conclusion show on her face, though, only shaking her head. "I'm afraid I have no business for you, Engineer. I'm here to talk to you about the… interesting workmen you've acquired to go about that business. I think you and I both know something isn't right here."

Even Nezha's nervous trembling stopped at that, the engineer freezing in place in a way she didn't think would be possible in reality. For several moments, he was so still he might've been mistaken for a malfunctioning marionette.

Then, with a speed and agility that surprised her, he bolted, heavy armor clanking as he hit the street and ran for it.

Alice could only stand there, completely nonplussed, for a few moments. Both by his reaction, and by his improbable fleetness of foot for a heavily-armored engineer. Only when he'd gained a full fifty meters' distance did it occur to her she should be doing something about it.

Throwing herself into a run, noting absently that Nezha was heading straight for the aerodrome, she couldn't help but curse at herself. She was used to problems that were solved by the careful application of blade to flesh, not the finer points of dealing with people. There was a reason no one had even suggested she be involved with interrogating Diavel, after all, and he'd been a prisoner.

I am not suited to trying to gently question someone I'm not even sure is a threat, she groused to herself, boots pounding the stone-paved road and taking far longer than made any sense to close the gap. I should've left this part to the Rat, as well.

Not that she could have, not really. The entire reason she was getting involved was to assess whether Nezha's dealings were a threat to the Human Empire, which required her direct involvement. Involvement without the Rat, given that the answer would very possibly put them directly at odds.

Besides, the Rat's prices had proven steeper than Alice had expected. If she'd hired the Fuumaningun to do all the work, she would've run out of Cor. The Rat knows her own worth, worse luck. …And why have I not caught up to that engineer yet?!

It had only been a fifty-meter head-start. As weak as the Swordmasters still were, Alice's strength as an Integrity Knight should've allowed her to overtake Nezha in moments. Instead, while she was certainly gaining on him, as they raced down Koriki's backstreets, it looked like he was going to reach the aerodrome before she completely closed the distance.

Enchanted armor, she thought, a part of her perversely wishing she had Kirito's grapnel. That must be it. The elves haven't the magicks we Integrity Knights retain, but they do still have some charms. But what is he doing for them that would warrant a gift of such?

It was fortunate that Nezha didn't seem to be very clever. His direct race for the aerodrome, through the backstreets, kept them from running into any Swordmasters returning from a day's work in the forests. That left the streets mostly clear, save for a few roaming marionettes, and meant Alice didn't have to risk any awkward questions.

It was still incredibly annoying to have to chase her target all the way to the aerodrome. Worse, her initial assumption that he was planning to escape via one of the completed—or mostly completed—airships was quickly proven false. Nezha ignored the ships and the still-busy carpenters entirely, not even slowing down as he barreled on past the landing cradles.

Past the cradles, and straight toward the edge of the island itself. Wait. He's not actually planning to—? Oh, this is ridiculous!

There were no other Swordmasters around. The carpenter marionettes were busy, assuming they even had the capacity to notice or care about anything else. As Nezha ran for the edge and began to lower his knees, as if preparing to jump, Alice threw out her left hand. "Rue Kruz!"

Ice swirled out of thin air, wrapping around Nezha's legs and solidifying. Momentum slammed his torso forward and down, smashing his helmet against the stone airfield with a clang. He let out a loud squawk, then collapsed, seemingly dazed.

Alice wasn't surprised. The spell-world may have lacked pain, but it was still more than capable of disorientation. I'm just relieved immobilizing magick can work within a Safe Haven, even if it can't truly cause harm. "Honestly," she muttered, slowing to a walk now that he was immobilized, "are all Swordmasters completely insane? What were you thinking, trying to throw yourself off?"

Nezha moaned, feebly pushing himself up, or at least as far up as his frozen legs would allow. "That it would be over," he whispered. "Now that someone found out, at least I could make sure it was all over…." He turned to look at her as she drew up beside him, and even with his helmet hiding his face, she could feel his confusion. "How did you do that? Who are you?"

"Not a friend," Alice said dryly, dropping into a crouch beside him. "But today… perhaps not an enemy, either. And you, Nezha of the Legend Braves, are not permitted to die until you explain why you seem to be dealing with forces unfriendly to your own side." She smiled, irony tinging the expression. "Who knows? We may have interests in common… Nataku."

He jolted. "How… how do you know that name…?"

Ah-ha. Interesting. "I have my ways. Now, then, Brave. Let us talk."

---

I really am no good at this sort of thing at all. And I was blending in so well, before I tried to stick my nose into this. What will Uncle think of me?

Seated at a table in a private room in the Lumbering Inn, across from a trembling Nezha, Alice supposed the answer would depend on the next few minutes. If the information was as important as she was beginning to suspect it was, she could very possibly escape with only a minor reprimand. Knowing Bercouli, he was even likely to find her misadventures amusing.

And if nothing else, should my cover be blown entirely, I'll have sowed the seeds of paranoia. Knowing that we have the means of slipping in among them, fooling the charms that identify them to each other, will leave them constantly wondering if an unfamiliar face might be an Integrity Knight in disguise. That would keep them divided. Regardless, my mission will be far from a failure, even if it proves to be less of a success than I'd hoped.

But perhaps there was still a chance to salvage things. "You Swordmasters are all so strange," Alice mused, eyeing the armored engineer sitting across from her. "To jump straight to suicide, when I'd not even explained myself… and will you calm down, please? You're going to give me a headache."

She'd never before considered some of the implications of full armor. Such as how shaking with fear while wearing it might result in ear-splitting clattering. Even in the spell-world, which had no pain, it was surprisingly unpleasant.

"Wh-what do you expect?" Nezha stammered out. "Y-you found out the secret, and—and you're not even a player, whoever you are. Of course I'm scared!"

I suppose I can't fault him there. I should just be glad he's not treating me as a mere marionette. I wonder why? Most Swordmasters don't seem to have Kirito's willingness to see this world for what it truly is. Alice sighed and leaned forward, resting her elbows on the table. "I suspect you know exactly what I am, if you've paid attention to the gossip, so I can't blame you for not trusting me. Indeed, you shouldn't trust me. But. What you also should know is that my duty is to protect my people against all threats… and I've come to realize you may not be the worst currently at large. So let me promise you, on my honor as a Knight, that at this moment you have nothing to fear from me. I only want answers, and if I'm any judge you're hardly a willing participant in the scheme here."

Of course, Nezha had no reason whatsoever to trust her. Any native of the Archipelago, even of the elven kingdoms, she might've taken offense at not taking her at her word. A Swordmaster lacked the context to know just how seriously an Integrity Knight took her honor. Indeed, if her understanding of their view of the spell-world was right, he very likely didn't think she was capable of being anything other than a mortal threat.

To Alice's surprise, though, Nezha's trembling gradually subsided. "…Oh, why not? I was expecting to die from this sooner or later, anyway. And you already stopped me from jumping into the Cloud Sea. I'm probably safer here than with other players, aren't I?" He slumped in his chair, resigned but at least apparently no longer terrified. "Just… one more thing. Leave my friends out of this, okay? They did all this for me. And I don't think they really get what's at stake here."

"If you're telling the truth, they, too, fall under the conditions of the truce," Alice assured her, inclining her head. "I make no promises for what may happen in battles yet to come, but that's a matter for another day, is it not?"

"I suppose it's the best I can ask for," he said, after a long moment's thought. "All right. You know something already, right? Or you wouldn't have come straight to me."

"I know you're working with elves. Forest, I'd assume, since the Legend Braves clearly already made some kind of deal with them." She clasped her hands under her chin, frowning. "What I don't know is what, exactly, you're doing, or why. My understanding is that the Fuumaningun already fared poorly in a deal with Kales'Oh. Why would you take such a risk?"

Admittedly, she didn't know all the details. The gossip she'd heard said only that during the conquest of the Second Island, the Fuumaningun had lost a member in a "quest". Argo the Rat had somehow seized control of the survivors, and word had spread that it had involved a deal with the Forest Elves going bad.

It was Nezha's turn to sigh, as he lifted one gauntleted hand to his helmet. "We didn't hear about that until after. By then, it was too late, and anyway, the others figured the Fuuma just made a dumb choice sometime during the quest chain. Word is, those ninja were never very smart. Orlando said all we had to do was pay better attention, and we'd be fine."

"Hm." Alice lifted one eyebrow. "And… have you been?"

"So far. But… I don't like it." Nezha shivered, setting off another rattle. "The deal was to supply the Forest Elves with any iron or steel weapons we got our hands on, and in return they'd give us a supply of mythril ship parts. Once I got Engineer training, we could use the profits from shipbuilding to buy more weapons, and any surplus was ours to keep."

"…That sounds like a suspiciously generous deal," she said slowly. "You would clearly gain more than they, and Kales'Oh is not exactly known for generosity toward humans. From what I've seen, even Moondancer's crew has more of an even business relationship with Lyusula."

Though that wasn't the only thing bothering her. Possibly Nezha didn't know it, but she did. Cold Iron burns elves, Forest, Dark, and Fallen alike. What possible reason would they have for wanting such weapons?

"Of course we were suspicious," Nezha said, breaking into her speculations. "But… we were desperate. We'd fallen behind the clearers, and there just wasn't time to make up for it with levels. We needed the money for gear to compensate. Besides…." Another sigh, and Nezha lowered his head. "I knew it was a bad idea, but if I could be an engineer, and make the guild money that way, I could make up for all the trouble I caused. For not being able to fight."

Alice blinked. "You… can't fight?"

He slowly straightened in his chair, opened his Mystic Scribing, and materialized a simple cup. Setting it on the table, he let go, pulled back his arm, and just looked at it for a moment. Just as Alice began to wonder what in the world he was playing at, he reached for the cup again—and missed. He let out a hissed breath, audible even through his helmet, and very slowly moved his hand until his fingers brushed against the cup. Only then did he pick it up.

It took her a moment to grasp the implications, and then she drew in a sharp breath. "You're blind in one eye?"

Nezha shook his head. "Not… exactly. We call it 'Full-Dive Nonconformity'. Um," he continued, catching her blank look, "it means the machine we use to come to this world… doesn't work right for me. I can see, but I can't judge distances. You're a swordswoman, right? You know what that means."

Alice nodded slowly. She might not have understood the technical aspects, but she certainly grasped the result. A swordsman who could not judge the position of his sword relative to his enemy would be dead in an instant. But that shouldn't be the only option. They're not the most efficient, but they do work. In a guild, surely he could've…? "Why not use a pistol, then? Hardly a good choice if you were alone, but surely it would've allowed you to support your comrades."

The armored engineer's head sank again. "I… actually tried that. But… but…." To her surprise, he let out a sound that was almost a sob. "The things we ran into, when we ran a quest to get a good enough gun… it's the other reason… why this is all my fault. Why… we took the Forest Elves' deal…."

Dread began to creep up Alice's spine. Knowing as she did that the Swordmasters had thought it all to be a game before Kayaba sprang his trap, it would've been little surprise had Nezha simply been terrified of battle. That, however, obviously was not the case. He had the strength of will to face death, even before he began to outright seek it. So what could be so horrible…?

Slowly, very slowly, Nezha brought up his Mystic Scribing again. His fingers trembled, hesitating a long, long moment. Then, finally, he touched the ethereal page.

Nezha's helmet vanished, flashing bright azure and disappearing like it had never been. He raised his head, and Alice's blood ran cold. "Oh, no," she breathed. "Oh, no…."

---

Wyverns. Why did it have to be wyverns? I didn't want to remember that today….

Kirito sat on Moondancer's rail, looking up at Aincrad's twin moons, and tried to focus on that oddity instead. It was, after all, just a little strange that the Forest-Sinking Charm that engulfed the Dark Elf camp and kept it safe from unwelcome visitors was visible from the inside at ground level, but not directly above. Though it couldn't be found via the air, the night sky shone through clearly anyway.

Maybe starlight has some kind of magic of its own, he mused, eyes tracing over the strange constellations high above. Or maybe it's just a game thing, and I'm over-thinking it.

Of course, with each passing day, it was harder to believe it really was just a game. It didn't seem possible, yet the things he and Asuna had seen in the Aincrad Archipelago defied everything he knew of software and hardware both. And my memories of the dreams match up way too well. Even Alice… and Eugeo….

The wyverns had brought it all back again. Fighting them had dragged back his memories of a steely dragon and an equally steely knight, taking his friend away. Of that friend returning on the back of a blue dragon, eyes so cold and empty of recognition. Of another blue dragon, bearing another former friend, whose eyes burned with angry recognition—

Kirito had tried to banish those memories, training as hard as he had after returning to the camp. That he'd driven himself to making mistakes that would've killed him in a real battle added embarrassment to the day's woes. Then Kizmel brought up my footwork, and dragged everything else back. Not her fault, she couldn't have known. Even when asked the other day, I couldn't bring myself to tell her what really happened, six years ago.

He snorted, finding some bitter amusement in the recollection. On the one hand, if he'd known what was going to happen six years later, he might never have dropped out. On the other, he might never have ended up trapped in Aincrad at all in that case. And even if I had… Tengu's got one thing right. The real world and Aincrad's fighting styles are incompatible. I learned just enough back then to understand balance. If I'd learned any more, it might've crippled me learning Sword Skills, and then where would I be? Just using the system assist won't be enough to beat Integrity Knights.

Taking a deep breath, Kirito forced the memories back again, and glanced down at the camp. At the mechanically-precise patrols of the "marionette" NPCs around the camp, visible in flickering torchlight between tents. At the handful of Knights overseeing it all, all of them staying pointedly away from the airship captained by a swordsman who wielded a blade of Cold Iron.

That isolation didn't bother him much. He was used to it, after all, and he at least rested easy in the knowledge that he and his friends had done some good for the camp. After Moonshadow had returned with a scouting report, Moondancer had gone out again for a closer look, and brought back more deadwood to help rebuild the camp, as well as some wild game to spice up the mess tent. Even one of the Trifoliate Knights had given them a grudging nod of thanks for that one.

They'd even helped out the Swordmasters' clearing in the process. Moonshadow had spotted odd holes in the ground in the vicinity of the Skywall Tower, but had—understandably, Kirito felt—been unwilling to get too close. Moondancer had gone in after them, and the three of them had approached the nearest "hole" on foot.

The presence of Treants had more or less confirmed Kirito's suspicions: the holes were meant to be filled by roots. Big roots. That, and some NPC talk they'd gotten out of quests in the northern town of Zumfut, indicated the basis of the Skywall Tower boss was much the same as in the beta. Which on the one hand was creepy, but on the other at least meant they had some idea of what they were dealing with.

We just need to be ready for it to be scaled up and with some kind of extra gimmick. Einsla and Niian were both like that, even if Coper pulled some idiot sequence-breaking last time. Bigger tree and on fire this time, maybe? Well, Argo's got the info now, and she'll have gotten it to the rest of the clearers no sense worrying about it now. This time, we'll at least have more ships with us. Even if something about the pace of construction still doesn't feel right….

Kirito shelved that thought, and idly glanced back at the camp. He immediately wished he hadn't, catching a glimpse of Kizmel and Tilnel sitting at the entrance to the healer's tent, quietly talking under the light of a blue-flamed lantern. He didn't begrudge the sisters their time together, not at all—especially not when Tilnel was still dealing with the shock of her husband's death—but he couldn't deny a pang in his heart.

Kizmel has her sister, right here with her. They're so close, physically and emotionally. I… can't see Sugu, and I threw away any right to that. I don't even remember the last time we talked like that….

"You know, Kirito-kun, I don't need to be able to feel your heartbeat to know you're brooding. You really don't have the best poker face when you're not playing the Big Bad Beater, just so you know."

Kirito almost tumbled off the rail to land painfully on his head, and only the lightning-fast grip on his collar yanked him back upright. Heart suddenly pounding with far more than just a little emotional pain, he clutched at the rail and turned to look at his near-killer. "You couldn't make a little noise on your way up, Asuna?" he got out, voice higher than he'd ever admit to.

The brunette squire rolled her eyes. "I did, Kirito-kun. See, that's the other way I could tell. You've got the best ears this side of an elf most of the time, but when you go off in your own little world, you're deaf as a post." She let go of his collar and settled onto the rail, just a meter or so away. "…Nice night, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he agreed, looking back up at the stars again. "Mostly," he added, unable to resist a playful dig, if only to cover for his own still-racing heart. She promptly punched him in the shoulder, just light enough to not do damage, and he raised a hand in mock-surrender. "I'm kind of surprised you're not with Kizmel and Tilnel, studying. Sounds like you've got a lot to learn."

Asuna sighed. "Like you wouldn't believe. You've been wondering if this is really a game because of technical stuff and your dreams? I can hardly believe any game developer would've created such a complicated code of chivalry and social structure. I'm going to be dreaming about the etiquette if I don't take a break for a bit. And besides…." She hesitated, glancing back at the elves in the camp below, and the two reunited sisters. "I… needed to get some space."

There was a wealth of meaning in her words, her tone, and her eyes, Kirito thought. As bad as he was at reading people, he had a feeling even he could understand a lot of what his first friend in Aincrad was thinking and feeling. She hadn't said much about her life on the other side—even less than he had, really—but he could recognize a mirror when he saw one.

Someone a little more insightful might've had something useful to say. Someone a little denser might've just gone ahead and asked prying questions. Kirito just nodded slowly, and said, "You, too, huh?"

"Mm." She gave a tiny nod of her own, and that simple hum. "Say… mind if I get a little closer?"

Without waiting for a reply, Asuna scooted along the rail, stopping just a couple of centimeters away. Kirito froze, realizing that just a slight lean would put her right against his shoulder. He had to move his hand to his lap just to avoid accidentally touching her, and for a second he held his breath, terrified that the slightest motion would do… something.

When he glanced anxiously at her, though, Asuna only gave him an enigmatic smile, and said nothing. She only smiled faintly, and looked up at the sky—and gasped. "Look, Kirito-kun!"

He followed her gaze, adrenaline spiking at the thought that she might've spotted an incoming airship or dragon. Instead, though, what met his eyes was a streak of light across the night sky. Then another, and another, until it seemed the northern sky was full of streaming lights. Of falling stars.

"A meteor shower," he breathed. "And… some of those look like they're probably going to hit the islands farther in…."

"Wow…." Transfixed, Asuna raised a finger to trace the meteors' paths through the sky. "I've never seen so many… hey, Kirito-kun, we should make a wish!"

"Oh… yeah…." Kirito felt his ears burn at the suggestion. "I… guess we should."

She turned to look at him, noticed his flush, and blinked. "Oh, come on! How can you be embarrassed about something like this? What, did you dance with a girl under a meteor shower sometime?"

"No, of course not!" The dancing was only in a game, and it wasn't—never mind that! "I just—the one time I ever saw a falling star before, I made a really lame wish, okay?" When she looked at him expectantly, he sighed, flushing brighter, and glance away. "I wished… that I'd get a rare item I was after in the MMO I was playing at the time."

He couldn't bring himself to look at her face after that. Graceful, ladylike Asuna was sure to be laughing at him for it. It was lame, after all, and completely beneath an upper-class girl's dignity.

There was no laughter, though. Instead, after a long silence, Asuna said softly, "Did you at least get it?"

"Nope," Kirito said heavily. "Completely wasted. And the MMO closed down just a couple months later, so it was all for nothing."

"I don't think it was." Startled, he finally looked at her again, to find she was looking wistfully into the sky. "That game… it made you happy, right? I've known you long enough to know you're pretty good at your studies, Kirito-kun. If you had something outside that, too, then… it wasn't wasted."

Kirito had no idea whatsoever to say to that. Prim, proper Asuna, who'd obviously never gone near a game in her life before SAO, telling him wishing on a star for a piece of code wasn't a waste? Looking like she envied him, somehow? I guess she really does have her own issues. What was her life like, on the other side? I'd never ask, but someday… I hope she's willing to tell me. Maybe once I'm able to talk to her, and Kizmel, about Suguha, and Grandfather….

In the moment, though, all he could do was look up at the stars with her, and watch the meteors fall. Many, maybe most, into the Cloud Sea, but distant booms told him some made landfall. Even the Skywall, he supposed, was no match for the power of the heavens themselves.

"So, humans also have legends about falling stars, hm? Something else we have in common."

Kirito and Asuna both twitched at the unexpected voice, shoulders bumping into each for a split second. "H-how long have you been there, Kizmel?" the Squire squeaked, as the Knight strolled across Moondancer's deck.

"Oh, just a few moments," Kizmel said casually. "I came aboard just as the meteor shower began. I admit, I was transfixed myself." She walked over to the rail herself, and to Kirito's surprise chose to sit by his other side instead of Asuna's, matching the brunette's short distance. "Falling stars are a good omen, to the peoples of the Aincrad Archipelago. Not just to humans, or to the elven kingdoms, but to us all."

"Do you make wishes, too?" Kirito asked, trying not to fidget at the close proximity of not one but two attractive girls.

"Hm… not exactly. Though we certainly wish for them to fall close by." Kizmel looked up at the seemingly endless shower of stars, a distant look in her eyes. "As you might guess, Kirito, Asuna, the Archipelago has one significant problem: resources. There is only so much that can be mined, in one hundred islands in the sky, and no way to reach the world below for more."

Asuna looked blank, but Kirito found himself nodding in sudden understanding. "So meteors bring more raw materials," he said slowly. When the Squire turned her puzzled look on him, he explained, "Even in our world, Asuna, meteors bring some important stuff. Um… I think most of the raw metallic iron on Earth is from meteors, for one thing. Couple other metals, too. Iridium, maybe…?"

"Oh!" It was Asuna's turn to nod. Then she frowned, glancing back up at the shower. "But… wouldn't it take a lot of meteors to do much good? And it's a big sky. Most of them must just fall into the Cloud Sea, right?"

"Meteor showers such as these are more frequent than you might expect, Asuna," Kizmel told her; Kirito was momentarily distracted when he noticed the falling stars reflecting in her violet eyes. "They also seem to find their way to the Islands themselves more often than not. A gift, it is said, of the Goddesses." When both humans turned puzzled looks on her, she smiled. "The Great Separation is said to have been punishment for a grave sin, yet those cast into the sky were not forgotten. The world provides, even in our exile."

There was something poetic about that. And reassuring, in a way. Kirito knew the mythology of Japan, and a fair bit about the Greek myths, so he knew far too many stories about pettiness from gods and goddesses. A heartwarming story, even if it was connected to something grimmer, was nice to hear.

For a time, the three of them just watched the stars fall. At length, though, Asuna murmured, "Hey, Kizmel? Shouldn't you be with your sister right now? I mean, at a time like this…."

Kirito felt a pang in his chest at that, and he was ashamed to realize he was just a little bothered by the idea of one of his few friends leaving so soon. Kizmel, though, only smiled, and shook her head. "Tilnel told me to go be with my friends for a little while. She's quite sharp, you know, and she saw how Kirito was earlier. And… I believe she wishes to make sure she can still stand on her own. After all, I won't always be right there with her. My duties, if nothing else, will take me away again soon enough."

He felt guilty at the sense of relief that gave him. The way the lighter beat sharing space in his chest also skipped, just a little, made him feel slightly better. Still…. "You're sure about that, Kizmel?"

"You really do think very little of yourself, don't you, Kirito?" The elf girl shook her head, smiling gently. "She's right, you know. And I do have a duty to my friends, as well as to my sister. Especially to friends who are so alone." She pointed up to the falling stars, which still showed no sign of ending. "Do you know what my people say about that gift from the Goddesses? In this world of Islands in the sky, torn adrift from the world below, the stars that fall to give us aid are a reminder. A reminder… that we are not alone."

Kirito had to swallow hard at that, and heard Asuna doing the same. A reminder that… we're not alone? He looked up at the shower of stars, watched the flashes of them passing through the Skywall, listened to the distant sounds of them striking solid ground.

When Asuna and Kizmel leaned into his shoulders, in that starry rain, he understood. Tonight, at least… I'm not alone.

Together, they watched the stars fall.

---

This is an incredibly bad idea. Unfortunately, it's the least terrible idea I have right now. I can only hope this Swordmaster is as irrational as the others I've dealt with. …Uncle, when you sent me on this mission, you didn't warn me you were turning my life upside down.

If Koriki was the "front door" of Sandoria, Zumfut was the "back". A town toward the Third Island's northeast edge, it was primarily built of three enormous, hollowed-out trees, rising above a cluster of buildings and even the rest of the forest. Though Koriki was far better suited to commerce and military action, with its aerodrome's wide landing field, Zumfut did have some advantages of its own… such as being well-suited for discreet meetings.

Alice stood on a small docking platform extending out from near the top of Zumfut's northern tree, a very nervous Nezha a couple of steps behind her. They'd come to Zumfut, despite it being nearly midnight, for a meeting that simply could not be risked in Koriki, not even so late at night. Alice had pushed her luck far too much as it was, and at this point even the expense of renting such a prime room in Zumfut's inn was the lesser risk by far.

Even if Nezha thought we were going to die along the way, she thought, indulging in brief amusement to settle her nerves. As if mere swarms of giant spiders were a risk to an Integrity Knight, even without my proper arms.

They were certainly less of a concern than what she was about to challenge. No Swordmaster was any match for an Integrity Knight in direct combat, but an army of them possibly could be. And if any Swordmaster could arrange for such an army, it was this one.

Knowing I can retreat is small comfort against the possibility of failing my mission. Yet what Nezha showed me is something I cannot ignore.

At precisely half an hour to midnight, a small shape seemed to melt out of thin air fifty meters from the platform. A skiff, bathed in the light of Aincrad's twin moons; that light, and the keen eyesight of an Integrity Knight, just barely allowed Alice to pick out the whisker markings on the skiff's bow. "She came," she murmured. "I wondered if she would. She might've been smarter to stay away…."

"It might've been smarter for us to stay away," Nezha muttered behind her. "But I guess 'smart' went out the window a while ago."

She snorted. "You have no idea." If I were smart, I wouldn't be parlaying with Swordmasters at all, now would I?

Soon, the skiff settled to a smooth, almost silent halt by the platform. A lithe woman in a dark green bodysuit promptly jumped out, tying a mooring rope, before kneeling in seeming respect. Not, Alice knew, respect for her, of course. Not when the woman's hand was carefully close to a set of throwing knifes resting at her waist.

No. It was for the next figure who leapt nimbly from the skiff, leaving a silent man in black at the wheel. This one lacked the assassin's trappings of the others, favoring instead very light leather armor and a simple hooded cloak. There was no doubt in Alice's mind, however, that this one knew exactly how to use the claws strapped to her hands. Probably far better than either of her subordinates.

"Gonna tell you one thing straight up," Argo the Rat said, with a deceptively casual air. "The only reason I came out when Nezha sent me that message is 'cause I've never heard Integrity Knights to be subtle. An' if I don't like what I hear, I'm outta here, and warning everybody I know 'bout you. For free."

Alice heard an eep from behind her, and couldn't entirely blame Nezha. By all accounts, the Rat providing information for free was considered a sign of imminent disaster. "Believe me, this wasn't my first choice, either, Grandmaster," she said dryly, granting the other girl her title for the sake of diplomacy. "My mission was to investigate the Swordmasters, and report everything to the Centoria Cathedral. I didn't expect to find myself investigating something that may threaten your people and mine both."

"Enemy mine, eh?" The Rat's eyes narrowed. "'Kay, I'll bite. Can't imagine you'd care if some o' my people got killed in bad deals with the Forest Elves, so what've ya got that's spooked ya?"

Wordlessly, Alice gestured to Nezha. Nervously, the engineer stepped forward, shakily conjured his Mystic Scribing, and once again banished his helmet.

Alice hadn't been entirely sure if even the Fuumaningun, under the leadership of Argo the Rat, would recognize the symptoms. From the way the Rat's bodyguard hissed and snatched out a knife, and even the Rat herself took half a step back, it seemed they very much did.

The Rat only took that half-step away, though, and after a moment gestured for her guard to put away her knife. "Easy, Kumari. Easy. …Okay, yeah, I can see why you'd wanna call a truce. So let's talk, Lady Knight. Or should I say… Dame Alice?"

Alice didn't twitch. If anything, she'd have been surprised if the Rat didn't know her name. Rather than let herself be distracted by the subtle jab, she calmly laid out what she'd learned, about Nezha and the Legend Braves, and about their deal with the Forest Elves. Nezha provided firsthand, disturbing details about his fateful encounter, and the horrible implications of it.

"I shoulda seen this coming," the Rat said pensively, leaning back against her skiff, when they'd finished. "Somebody else I know ran into 'em not long ago. Let myself get distracted tryin' to whip the Fuuma into shape, I guess, and… stuff. Damn." She sighed, shook her head, and fixed Alice with a pointed stare. "One thing, though: this shouldn't be a big threat to you this second. They've moved on. So why're you sticking your neck out for an enemy, Dame Alice?"

"Because this is wrong, Grandmaster," Alice said bluntly, gesturing at Nezha; the engineer squeaked, quickly putting his helmet back on. "This is wrong, and as a Knight, I can't overlook it. Even when the victim is a Swordmaster. And it may not remain an isolated incident. To be frank, the Axiom Church is still learning the limits of Kayaba's spell-world. I had no idea this could happen here, and I don't know if it could spread to the real Archipelago. The Swordmasters, to be blunt, are a problem I believe we can manage. This may be something else entirely."

Because for all that the Axiom Church was at odds with the elven kingdoms, some things they did have in common. Alice did not believe the Pontifex herself would object to a short truce, to prevent the problem from escalating.

The Rat stared at her for a long moment, before finally nodding. "Y'know, for some reason, I think I believe that. Maybe 'cause you're sounding an awful lot like Kii-chan right now. Fine. Truce, 'least until we settle the Braves' bit of stupid." Cloak billowing gently in the late night breeze, the Rat turned to Nezha. "We're going to fix this. I got some idea of what's gonna go wrong, but you are gonna have to be the one to put it right. And it's gonna cost ya. Understand?"

"I was expecting to die for this, Argo-san," Nezha said, trembling but holding his head high. "Whatever the price, I'll pay it. What my friends and I have done… if it goes wrong, nothing will justify it. Not even what's happened to me. Whatever you need me to do, I'll do it."

"Good." The Rat smirked; an expression that suddenly made Alice feel oddly nervous. "'Cause the first thing you're gonna do? Is raid the Braves' coffers. Whatever Cor and gear you can get your hands on, anything they don't absolutely need for the Skywall Tower raid. What we're gonna do is pricey, Nata-kun."

"Erk?"

The Rat's smirk showed off fangs, but she said nothing more to Nezha, turning back to Alice instead. "We got it from here, Dame Alice. An'… thanks. Ya didn't have to do this."

"Yes, I did." Alice met that half-grateful, half-mirthful look with an even stare. "It may have cost me my mission, but it had to be done. For my honor, and to head off whatever crisis may come from this." She folded her arms, narrowing her eyes. "Just remember, Grandmaster: I did not do this for you. We're still enemies, and while this may have ended my mission, this will not be the last time we face each other."

After all, whatever the needs of the moment, whatever her own sympathies for some of the Swordmasters, they were still invaders poised to disrupt the peace and order the Integrity Knights so carefully maintained in the Aincrad Archipelago. A truce was the best they could ever hope to have. It was inevitable that, one day, she and the Rat would be facing each other with weapons drawn.

Even as Kumari pushed a trembling Nezha toward the skiff, though, the Rat only maintained that fanged smirk. "Who says your mission is over, Dame Alice? I'm not gonna tell. Not unless somebody pays me for it, an' they have to know info exists to buy it, right?"

Alice stared at her. "…Excuse me? You're going to be a mercenary about this? Hiding from your own people an infiltrator in their midst? …Are you completely insane?"

"Nope. Clever." The Rat leapt backwards, landing with inhuman agility on the skiff's rail. "To win without fighting, Dame Alice. That's how a Rat gets things done."

"You're in league with Tengu?"

"Nope. I dunno what his deal is, but I kinda think we got the same idea in mind." Dropping to the skiff's deck, the Rat gave a cheerful wave. "When we get the Braves' mess settled, I'll set up a contact for ya. Any time you want me to say hi to Kii-bou for ya, just lemme know!"

As if to punctuate her odd declaration, light flared overhead—a meteor shower, Alice realized. The timing felt almost deliberately dramatic, as if the world itself was playing into Argo the Rat's theatrics.

The skiff pulled away from the platform, turning around to slip quietly into the star-streaked night. Alice was left standing there, watching it go, suddenly feeling as if she had not only learned nothing the past few days, but come out of it knowing less than she'd gone in.

"…You people are all insane!"

---

Author's Note:

---

February. Enough said. February is always evil for me.

Okay. Longer version. Insert usual disclaimer about health issues here—including, for the final week of the process, very nasty sinus headaches. Anybody currently waiting on replies from me, I'll get back to you as soon as my head stops pounding long enough. Beyond that? Well, I did say I had no idea what this chapter was going to be about, and boy howdy, was I right. I had the general concept of "Alice investigating the Legend Braves", but exactly where the plot led in the end, I never expected. As one might expect, I was at several points stalled by writer's block.

I like to think it turned out somewhat interesting, at least?

That's one of two factors that will not be plaguing the next two chapters, at least. Chapter XVII will be a battle chapter, and those always flow pretty well for me, once I get going. (Getting going can be a pain, I'll admit….) Chapter XVIII will be the obligatory "cleaning up the arc's loose ends" chapter, and I do at least have a pretty darn good idea what those loose ends will be. Certainly a better idea than I had of the content of this chapter!

The other factor was that I was, in fact, working on another project during the long gap. I got in a good eighteen thousand words on it, in fact… only to finally realize the pacing was just all wrong—too fast, for once—and the "one-shot" I was working on really needs to be approximately a three-shot. Going to have to break up what I've got and expand on it, dang it. Which, I assure you all, will be something I do after I get my existing projects back on track.

Speaking of. I imagine, by now, some people are getting a little concerned about Monochrome Duet. Well, my current plan is to write two more chapters of Rebellion, wrapping up this arc, and then finally begin the Fairy Dance arc of Duet, using the time spent on the latter to brainstorm about the Fourth Island in Rebellion so as to not have a third consecutive arc where I have no idea what the plot is. (Luckily, I do already have some concrete ideas on that score. The core plot, at least, which this arc didn't have in the first place.) I didn't really mean to leave Kirito and Kizmel hanging in that story this long, and I'll try not to leave them too much longer.

One more thing to note: you may notice dates changing slightly in the previous chapter. That's because I have specific plans for Christmas Eve, and I need the characters to have time to get where those plans will occur. Minor change overall, but I thought I'd mention it.

Oh, yes! Oath of Rebellion now has a TV Tropes page. I haven't had that particular honor since my, er, less-than-stellar Gundam SEED days. Page needs more love! (Ahem. Ending shameless plug.)

I think that about covers the essentials for now? I realize this chapter is a bit rough, given its haphazard creation, but I hope it was at least somewhat interesting, after such an unreasonably long wait. Good, bad, die in a fire? Let me know, and I'll see you in Chapter XVII. -Solid