Chapter 123: Embracing the Light of Ambition — Part 9

The sword is heavy. The armor is heavy. Her body is heavy.

All of it is virtual—none of it truly exists as mass. And yet, here in this virtual reality, Shangri-La Frontier, they press down upon Psyger-0—upon Rei Saiga—with an undeniable, crushing weight.

The Twinface Armor she wears is a piece of equipment that demonstrates its true worth when used in tandem with the Divine-Demonic Sword Antinomy, the greatsword she holds in her hands. When the greatsword harbors a sacred power, the armor takes on a demonic force. When the sword flips to demonic, the armor harbors sacred power. And when the sword is demonic and the armor is sacred, the set grants defense-oriented stat bonuses—enough that she could take a head-on charge from an ordinary monster without losing even a third of her HP.

But the black wolf rampaging here is no ordinary creature. It is Lycagon the Nightslayer. Even with Psyger-0's defenses currently bolstered, a poorly-taken hit would still spell certain, instant annihilation of her HP. And this lone member of the Colossi delivers such killing blows in rapid, effortless succession. Though she's avoided direct hits, the accumulated scratches alone have driven her HP into the danger zone. With a full-face helm making liquid potions difficult to drink, she crushes a crystalline recovery item—one that restores health simply by breaking it, albeit somewhat pricey—and gazes at him.

Psyger-0: "Incredible..."

A black gale. At the center of countless killing storms woven with clones, a player who handles it all with staggering versatility—emerging unscathed. Perhaps to command that mechanical bird scattering the thunderheads in the sky above, he's swapped out the intense, sharp-eyed bird mask for a mechanical helm. Crafted to resemble a bird with technology more refined than any armored headgear Psyger-0 has ever seen. This half-naked man, wearing that helm, is single-handedly buying time against Lycagon.

He bears two curses upon his body. Psyger-0 knows this. After all, she herself once bore such a mark upon her torso. And that's precisely why she understands all too well just how devastating the demerit of "equipment slot disabled for affected body parts" truly is. In this game, a player's "defense" cannot be reduced to numbers alone. No matter how high your defense, if you take a hit to a bare-skinned torso, you'll take massive damage. Beyond reinforcing stats, armor serves the critically important role of actually shielding the avatar's body. Though her avatar was male, Psyger-0 couldn't bring herself to shamelessly flaunt a half-naked body—and so she had her curse lifted by Eristella, the Saint of Love. There are, of course, players who deliberately keep their curses, believing it might trigger some hidden flag. But even so, two curse marks is beyond all reason. Sunraku fights in a state that can only be called half-naked—torso and legs bare. A single errant claw could shred through his HP at any moment. He'd told her that "because of that, my skills are specialized for maneuvering," but even so, there are limits.

That was why she had to stand at the front and protect Sunraku from Lycagon. How long ago had she made that resolution? Psyger-0's concentration was already a candle flame before the wind. She herself felt ashamed of her inadequacy, but the truth was this: Sunraku—who in the extreme didn't strictly need to land hits—and Psyger-0—who had to land a combined ten wide-swinging attacks to fulfill the condition—bore slightly unequal mental burdens, with Psyger-0's being the heavier. Early on, the back-and-forth of aggro between her and Sunraku had worked smoothly. But now, the moment Psyger-0 showed even a hint of an attack, Lycagon would zero in with ferocious intensity, intent on crushing it.

Just a little more. Just a little more and the condition will be met. And yet that final stretch feels impossibly distant. To quell the hunger that existed as a parameter, Psyger-0 removed only her headgear for a moment, about to put a ration into her mouth—when she was jolted alert by a cry from Sunraku, almost a scream.

Sunraku: "A clone—headed your way!"

Faced with the onrushing black shadow, Psyger-0 realized her carelessness. In the face of repeated attacks aimed at sealing off the starting points of her offense, she had unconsciously fallen into the delusion that "Lycagon turns its aggro toward me when I attack." The wolf was far more cunning than that. There was no way it would overlook Psyger-0—the primary damage-dealer in this fight—trying to recover her health!

Psyger-0: "Oh no—"

Too late. No time to dodge or defend. She had a means of revival after death—but she couldn't use it after she was already dead. Blocked by what was likely Lycagon's main body, Sunraku's expression was hidden by his helm. But even though he must have his hands completely full, the fact that he was still concerned about her warmed her heart—even as her chest filled with guilt.

(I'm sorry, Hizutome-kun... In the end, I just held you back...)

That connection was something only she recognized. Her apology for the failure could only be spoken within her heart. The wolf's fangs drew near. Even the inside of its maw was formed from shadow—a darkness blacker than night stretching deep within, as if it devoured even light itself. Once those jaws clamped down, she would meet the same fate as Animalia. It wasn't the gruesome death she feared. Having experienced all manner of "death" through her gaming, Psyger-0 had grown accustomed to being bitten to death—though it wasn't exactly pleasant. Being chewed up and swallowed, however, probably wouldn't feel great.

That was precisely why Psyger-0 didn't notice it until it had already been executed. Partly because the helm hid Sunraku's expression of shock. Partly because Lycagon—a visual and auditory avalanche of impact—filled her vision. And so, Psyger-0 only realized someone had been behind her... after it had been done, after she'd been caught up in it.

???: "Blade-Hiding Art... Utsusemi!"

Psyger-0: "Huh?"

She couldn't be blamed for letting out such a deflated sound. The moment she felt someone tap her shoulder—accompanied by a girl's high-pitched voice—it was as though lag correction had forcibly returned her to coordinates from several seconds earlier: Psyger-0's body teleported several meters backward from where she'd just been. Lycagon's fangs snapped shut with a clash on the spot she had occupied a moment ago. And in Psyger-0's place—having become the poor substitute sacrificed to Lycagon's jaws in her stead...

Psyger-0: "A log?"

???: "Of course! When you think substitution jutsu, you think log!"

Perhaps finding the texture suspicious, Lycagon ceased chewing. The shattered splinters spilling from its mouth, if gathered up and reassembled into their proper form, would clearly be recognized as a crudely cut log. And as for the class that employed such "magic"—substituting oneself with a log and teleporting to previously designated coordinates—Psyger-0 knew of one. It was an advanced job derived from the Thief class. Unlike "Shadow," the standard advanced job that focused on skills for reducing one's own aggro and dashing effortlessly through all manner of rough terrain... this was a magic-focused class that wielded bizarre, mystical "ninja arts"—impossible not to feel a surge of pure Japanism from. A hidden class...

Psyger-0: "A ninja?"

???: "Yes! By the way, if I might ask an unrelated question—you're not Sunraku... -san, are you?"

Psyger-0: "Ah... no. I'm Psyger-0."

???: "I knew it! I'd heard he was a bird-headed human with a fairly... unhinged fashion sense! His head looks physically a lot harder than I'd been led to expect, but that's definitely him over there, isn't it!"

Psyger-0 turned. There stood a player clad in lightweight gear—muted, inconspicuous colors suited for stealth—with her upper arms and lower legs significantly exposed. And for some reason, she wore a fox mask on her face. If Psyger-0 recalled correctly, that fox mask wasn't headgear but a type of accessory. She'd occasionally seen players wear them for gags or fashion purposes, since equipping one over a helmet made for a pretty comical sight. From the rough silhouette of her avatar and her voice, her appearance matched her true self. Looking above her head, Psyger-0 saw the name: Akitsu Akane. Even as Lycagon rampaged around her, Psyger-0 found herself thinking—with strangely out-of-place reflection—that in ancient Japan, dragonflies were once called "akitsu," and if you added the color "akane" (madder red), it must refer to the "akiakane" (the autumn darter dragonfly). Such an old-fashioned name.

Akitsu Akane: "I'll just go say a quick hello!"

Psyger-0: "W-Wait!"

She knew this wasn't the time to ask. But something blazing deep within Psyger-0's heart—within Rei Saiga's heart—drove her to speak with fierce compulsion.

Psyger-0: "Um... what kind of... relationship do you have... with Sunraku... -san...?"

Akitsu Akane: "Let's see... a senpai I deeply respect, I suppose! Later!"

With those words, Akitsu Akane dashed off in a truly beautiful running form. Watching her retreating figure, Psyger-0 somehow managed to move her trembling lips and murmur:

Psyger-0: "Sen... pai?"

Something about this... was bad.

What on—hop!—earth just—step!—happened? Jump!

The moment I saw Rei-shi unable to escape the clone, I was certain: "Ah. It's over." But then someone came sprinting in at incredible speed and rescued her. And now that player is racing toward me at full tilt for some reason. If it were Oikatzo or Pencilgon, I'd at least understand—no, I wouldn't understand, but I could accept it. But when it's a complete stranger I've never met, I can't understand, and I can't accept it. And as my body moves frantically while my thoughts are thrown into chaos, the "question" transforms into "shock" the moment I glimpse the name floating above the player's head.

Sunraku: "Akitsu Akane... AKITSU AKANE!?"

An image flashes through my mind: a chibi version of me, with a paper labeled "Momentary Pleasure" plastered to my forehead, being uppercutted into oblivion by another chibi me—this one bearing the label "Strategic Reason"—who had been pinned under the first one's foot. Akitsu Akane. That name blazed at the top of my list of critical concerns—the player I'd tasked Emul with stalling. I never imagined I'd meet her here, now. Even Lycagon seems momentarily hesitant, unsure how to react to this Akitsu Akane sprinting toward us with such impeccably polished form. Honestly, I completely get that feeling—but I'm going to exploit that opening to the fullest. Using Mirror of Fading, I leave my aggro pinned in place and slip out of Lycagon's attack range. I regroup with Akitsu Akane, who's radiating joy from her entire body as she runs toward me—though her face is hidden behind a mask.

Sunraku: "What—how—first of all, why are you here!?"

Akitsu Akane: "It's a pleasure to meet you for the first time! I'll get straight to the point: have you ever played a game called Berserk Online Passion!?"

Sunraku: "Why bring up Constipation here!?"

What the hell? I can't help but raise my voice. It's like having a soft-serve ice cream dropped right in the middle of your curry rice—the word is so wildly out of place. Of all things, she had to name-drop Constipation—a game that occupies the farthest northern reaches of the trash-game spectrum, the polar opposite of a god-tier game. It rattles my emotions far more than I'd expected. But that answer seems to be more than enough for Akitsu Akane to confirm something. Behind her mask, her eyes flood with the utmost joy.

Akitsu Akane: "I knew it! I thought it might be you, but I was right—you really are Sunraku-san!"

Sunraku: "Huh? Well, yeah. I generally stick with 'Sunraku' across games..."

Akitsu Akane: "It's me! Dragonfly! You helped me out back then!"

A few seconds of silence. Then, at breakneck speed, my brain races back through my memories. I recall a player whose demeanor was the complete opposite of her rough, burly avatar—one who had discovered a brand-new bug exploit.

Sunraku: "Dragonfly!? From back then!?"

Akitsu Akane: "Yes! I never imagined we'd meet again in another game!"

Dragonfly... Akitsu Akane... I see. Like Katzo, she's the type who picks a common theme for her names. But more importantly—this opening punch carries way too much force, doesn't it? To think she'd come all the way to meet me... and that she's someone I actually know, even if only through a tenuous connection. Akitsu Akane, in what appears to be thief-class gear with a fox mask, is bouncing up and down like she's genuinely and guilelessly thrilled to be reunited. And the scarf wrapped around her shoulders—decorated with a strangely familiar pattern—is bouncing along with her... bouncing... Wait. That's not a scarf. That's a rabbit.

Emul: "Kyuu..."

Sunraku: "EMUL!?"

Akitsu Akane: "Ah, yes! I figured, why not bring her along!"

No, no—"why not" is not the right response here, "why not." Emul, barely clinging to Akitsu Akane's neck, is in a state of utter collapse—like she's been shaken for hours. If she hadn't let out that little squeak, I honestly might have mistaken her for a muffler made from actual rabbit fur.

Sunraku: "No, hold on, hold on. How on earth did you get here?"

Akitsu Akane: "Yes! I'm still a newbie who's barely just started, so I'd never visited Eleventar before... and so, well... I did my best and sprinted all the way here from Thirdrema!"

Well, crap. Unless I'm very much mistaken, this girl is a different breed of "idiot" from Katzo and Pencilgon, isn't she? And here she comes—entering the fray! A Time-Attack-type Athletic-School-Spirit Kouhai-Position Masked Ninja Girl! That's an awful lot of attributes slapped together, but I guess you can never have too many. Probably.

[Job Class: "Ninja"

Prerequisites: you must have the Thief job and have learned a certain amount of magic (the type does not matter). Once those prerequisites are met and the hidden parameter "Ninja-ness" reaches a certain threshold, a special NPC appears inside the Thieves' Guild. Clearing the "Three-Bout Trial" available from that NPC grants you the right to job-change into the hidden job Ninja.

Its Japanism-packed ninja arts—or rather, the Blade-Hiding Art line of magic—has many passionate fans. But because using those spells requires all sorts of preparation in advance, you could argue that the ordinary advanced job Shadow is ultimately easier to use overall... Idiot! It's a ninja! Who cares about that stuff!

One particularly notable point is that Blade-Hiding Art magic is activated not by "chanting," but by forming "hand seals." Nin-nin.]