Sword Art Online Progressive 2 Page 9

  “W-well, sure…but…”

  Without thinking, I reached my hand over my shoulder to grab the hilt of my sword, then realized I’d put it back in my inventory. I put the hand on my head instead and rubbed my hair.

  She was proposing that we test the dark elf blacksmith, if we overlooked his rudeness, to see if he would create a similarly overpowered sword, but that would require recreating the same conditions as with Asuna’s purchase. Not only would I need to provide high-quality base and additional materials, but I’d also need a core ingot made from a powered-up, well-used weapon of my own. Meaning, the Anneal Blade +6 I’d been fighting with for over a month.

  In truth, it was nearing the end of its usefulness as my main weapon. If I managed to use both remaining upgrade attempts successfully and get it to +8, it might last me until the fourth floor. But even here on the third floor, there were weapons better than this at +0, some of which were sold right from NPC vendors—they just didn’t come cheap.

  Ultimately, the Anneal Blade was a quest reward weapon that anyone could earn for themselves. It wasn’t on the level of a rare weapon with only a few copies in existence.

  And yet, there was a part of me that loved that sword and wanted to keep using it until the very end of its life. It wasn’t the specs, appearance, or handling of the weapon. It was the feeling of accomplishment that came with it, when I went straight from the Town of Beginnings to start the quest for this blade, using nothing more than my starter Small Sword. It was the feeling I got when I felt the weight of that new blade, which was nothing like my first sword. Part of the reason I stuck with the One-Handed Sword skill from the beta was knowing that I could get myself an Anneal Blade first thing.

  But on the other hand, everything surrounding us had changed since the beta. We had to complete each floor as quickly as possible under the pressure of knowing that we only had one life to lose. The biggest priorities were efficiency and common sense. Personal attachment to items that needed to be replaced was a total waste of time. I even said this very thing to Asuna in the second-floor inn: If we wanted to survive, we had to constantly get new gear. That’s what MMORPGs are like…

  Looks like this is where we go our separate ways, partner, I told the sword in my item storage.

  It was true that we ought to test the dark elf blacksmith’s skill level, and it was true that my Anneal Blade would soon be useless. The timing was telling. I gritted my teeth and prepared to acquiesce.

  But before I could say anything, Asuna sighed and admitted, “Of course, if you’re not up for it, we should call the idea off.”

  “Uh…huh?”

  “Doesn’t it seem like that would bleed over into the result? Like, if you didn’t want to make a weapon, the finished product might be bad.”

  “Wha…hey?”

  “I mean, I wasn’t sure at first, either, but when it came time to make the deal, I was ready. But it’s clear from the look on your face that you want to go as far as you can with what you’ve got now.”

  “Hoh…”

  “Let’s think of a better way to test this. Plus, I guess just doing one more experiment isn’t really proof of anything. If you’re going to take the process seriously, you’d need all the best materials, enough to make a hundred swords, then watch for the best rate to make an extremely powerful sword…I’m sure the results would be all over the place, though.”

  Asuna stopped for a moment, lost in thought, then turned to look back at the blacksmith’s tent.

  “Then again…maybe we shouldn’t do that to the blacksmith…to the camp as a whole. I mean, he’s doing his best at his duty for the sake of the other soldiers. If we barged in and forced him to make a hundred swords we’re not even going to use, it would probably just be an insult to his profession. I don’t know, maybe I’m just being weird…”

  She lowered her head, embarrassed, and looked up at me with her hazel-brown eyes. I grasped for the right words and eventually came up with “Okay, I won’t do it” like a dumb younger brother following his smart older sister’s lead.

  I didn’t want that to be the entirety of my response, so I kicked my brain into high speed and added, “But we still have business with the blacksmith. We’ll want to get your new rapier up to plus five, and I need to power mine up a bit if I’m going to keep using it.”

  But as usual, big sister had a smarter answer.

  “I’m fine with upgrading it, but won’t we be short on materials? Ignoring my rapier for a second, your Anneal Blade is plus six already, and has eight max attempts, right? We’ll want to use the maximum number of materials to get our chances of success to the top value…Why are you making that weird face?”

  “Erm…Just thinking, you’ve really grown as a player. Perhaps it’s not true that you only have book smarts without experience…”

  I thought I was just putting my honest feelings into words, but she gave me an equally weird look in return, then let out a snort the elven blacksmith would be proud of.

  “Oh, forget about me for a moment. What’s the plan? Going out for more materials?”

  “Actually, that won’t be necessary.”

  I grinned and opened my window, scrolling through the item list until I found what I wanted. What materialized was a perfectly ordinary black leather bag with a single brand on the side. Asuna grimaced when she saw it.

  “Isn’t that the mark of the cow-men from the second floor? It better not be filled with something weird.”

  “Sadly, it is not.”

  I closed my window and grabbed something out of the sack. It was a gleaming black metal plate, about one by four inches. The same cattle mark was stamped onto the surface.

  “Oh, it’s just a metal plank. I don’t recognize the color, though…It’s not iron or steel,” Asuna said, and she was correct. Metal planks were materials smelted from ores collected mostly in natural dungeons. They could be used for upgrading and crafting or combined into a larger, full-sized ingot. But while this was a plank, it wasn’t just any plank. I grinned devilishly and explained the cattle sign.

  “This was the Last Attack reward from Colonel Nato in the second-floor boss battle. This one plank will boost the upgrade success rate of any weapon below plus ten to the max, plus it allows you to choose whichever stat you want to boost…”

  I could see Asuna’s response coming from a mile away.

  “You should have said that even earlier!”

  The talented (if you overlooked his rudeness) blacksmith greeted us with his usual snort when we returned. We made seven attempts at the maximum of 95 percent success, and all seven were good.

  Asuna’s Chivalric Rapier was now +5, and my Anneal Blade went from +6 to +8.

  There were still ten more of the cow-branded planks in the leather sack, but I decided to save them for a rainy day. With the bag back in my inventory, I drew my freshly upgraded weapon, now with four points to sharpness and durability each. There was a fresh, deep shine to the thick blade that gave it a prickly intensity. At this point, it might last to the end stages of the fourth floor, not just the third.

  Satisfied, I snapped the sword back into its scabbard, then heard the same sound from next to me. We glanced at each other and grinned confidently. No true swordsman could resist the excitement of a good upgrade.

  Her rapier back at her left hip, Asuna cleared her throat and said, “I’m going to pay you back for the five planks, just so you know.”

  “Well, I only beat Colonel Nato because of your help, so you don’t need to bother. Either of us could have gotten the LA.”

  “Really…? Then I’ll give you the next rare drop I get.” She lowered the volume of her voice to whisper for my ears only. “But we still don’t know what to think of the blacksmith’s skill. If only there were a way to determine if it’s a bug in the system or not…”

  “Yeah, I know…Hmm.”

  I replaced my sword on my back and crossed my arms. The plan to attempt a mass order was shot down, and we certainly cou
ldn’t ask him ourselves…

  No.

  “Hey…that’s it,” I said, snapping my fingers. “We can just ask someone who knows plenty about this camp.”

  The valley that housed the dark elf base was mostly round, with the amenities such as dining and business on the eastern side, and the barracks and storage on the western side, with a main path through the center. It had the size and detail of a small village on its own; it seemed strange that it would be instanced for every individual party on the quest, given its scope.

  Asuna and I left the business area, crossing the main street for the barracks section and stopping in front of a tent at the southern end. I lifted the familiar black pelt door and called inside.

  “Hello, it’s Kirito. May we come in?”

  A voice immediately responded, “Certainly. I was just about to finish preparing breakfast.”

  We entered the tent, excusing ourselves first. My heart was initially set at ease by a gentle, milky scent, then went into spasms when I saw the elf knight rising from the cushions.

  The five seconds that I witnessed Kizmel’s black bodysuit the last night were stunning enough, and this morning, she was wearing nothing over her brown skin but a sheer gown that was significantly open at the front.

  SAO’s age rating was only twelve and up, right? Or maybe after it turned into a game of death, the usual standards stopped applying.

  I felt a kind of pressure emanating from my right and took my eyes off the elf’s skin as naturally as I could.

  “I hate to bother you during your meal, but we wanted to talk about something…”

  “If you have a new mission, I will gladly accompany you.”

  “That’s great, but we’re not leaving yet. I just want some information first.”

  “Ahh. In that case, we can talk as we eat. Have a seat and I will fix your portions.”

  She gestured to the soft, fluffy furs on the ground and turned back to the stove at the center of the tent. I felt like if I was polite and told her not to mind us, she would take it literally, so I thanked her instead. Asuna pulled her hood back and said, “We’ll happily eat,” showing just as much as interest as I in the smell coming from the pot.

  We sat down on the furs, and I watched Kizmel take the lid off the pot and stir its contents. Asuna hissed into my ear.

  “Stare too long, and you’ll trip the harassment code.”

  “Huh? I thought that was only for physical contact,” I replied, then cursed when I realized I should have denied looking at her at all.

  The harassment code was a part of the game system that activated when certain “improper” activity was continued against an NPC or player for a set amount of time, similar to the anticrime code. The first offense was accompanied by a warning and physical pressure away from the target, but repeat offenders would eventually wind up teleported into the prison beneath Blackiron Palace down in the Town of Beginnings.

  For a time, some of the frontline players tried to see if it could be used reliably as an escape mechanism in the midst of danger. After all, the only way to instantly teleport while in the fields or dungeons was an extremely rare and valuable crystal—and those weren’t even available on the lower floors.

  But the research ended in absolute failure, nya-ha-ha, Argo the Rat had noted when she sold the information to me.

  Not only did the automatic teleportation to the prison involve an unpleasant force like an electric shock knocking the player back—which I’d never felt myself—but it had to be initiated several times, and the other player had to be of the opposite sex. It was easier to simply run away from battle than spend a bunch of time fondling each other, and of course, SAO’s ratio of men to women was frightfully skewed. The phenomenon would work against an NPC, too, but few item-selling ladies bothered to hang out deep in dangerous caves.

  On top of that, it wasn’t easy to get out of the prison once teleported there, and some said that you’d drop items during the teleportation. Thus, the dream of conveniently using the anti-harassment code to escape danger was crushed. It was simple curiosity that led me to buy this intel from Argo, not any intention of turning into a talented harassment artist—but at any rate, a simple stare would not set off the code.

  Yet the whispering from Asuna did not stop.

  “Uh-oh, here it goes. Five seconds, four, three…”

  “H-huh? What…?”

  I panicked, looking back and forth between Kizmel’s legs as they peeked out of the hem of her gown and the steam rising from the stew pot. The countdown continued.

  “Two, one, activated.”

  Thud.

  Asuna carved into my right side with a solid punch. I rolled over in pain, wondering why that didn’t set off the actual code. Kizmel turned back to us and smiled.

  “You two get along so well.”

  The dark elf knight treated us to a dish of some starchy crop between rice and wheat, boiled in milk, and seasoned with nuts and dried fruit. It was firmly Western in style—or at least Aincradian—and yet something about its delightful taste was oddly familiar. The only problem was that the portion was too small. We treasured the small plates of the stuff with the wooden spoons she offered.

  “This is really good,” Asuna said wistfully. “I never thought I’d get to eat oatmeal in this game.”

  “W-wait…this is what oatmeal is?” I asked. I’d only ever heard the name before.

  Asuna nodded. “Yes. The texture’s a bit different, but the flavor is spot-on.”

  “Ohh,” I said, impressed. Kizmel chimed in.

  “Ah, so you eat milk porridge in your human towns as well? I did not know that. Perhaps someday…” She trailed off. Both of us looked at her, but the expression was hard to read.

  Kizmel shoveled down the last of her porridge, or oatmeal, or whatever it was, and returned our gaze. “Kirito, Asuna, you said that you wanted to ask me about something?”

  “Oh…uh, that’s right. Umm, well…”

  I wasn’t sure how to broach the topic, so I decided to simply be straight and ask her opinion of the blacksmith’s skill.

  Kizmel’s reaction was something between praise and unease. Simply put, he was talented but fickle, sometimes creating masterworks, but often outright refusing pushy or misguided orders.

  At that description, Asuna and I looked at each other in understanding.

  The Chivalric Rapier at her waist now had to be one of those masterworks. It was not the product of a bug or error, but a proper result that only occurred at a very rare frequency.

  That part was good news, but the bit about “misguided” orders worried me. After all, what could be more misguided than asking him to craft hundreds of weapons based on the bare minimum of cheap materials? If he only produced crappy weapons in response to such an order, there was no way to test the odds.

  He’d already made Asuna an overpowered weapon and succeeded in perfecting my sword. We didn’t need, and couldn’t ask for, a better set of results—but it just wasn’t that simple. As a member of the frontier force of SAO, I had an obligation to spread the info I learned to other front-runners. They needed to know that the elf camp could produce weapons worthy of the sixth floor—as well as the possibility that you could keep the elf knights alive in the “Jade Key” quest…

  I suddenly realized that I was so lost in thought, my spoon was scraping empty air on my plate, then cursed myself for not savoring the taste more.

  “Thanks for the meal, Kizmel,” I said. “The porridge was good, and you told us what we needed to know.”

  Asuna bowed her head as well. “I thought it was delicious. Thank you for the food.”

  “I’m glad to hear you enjoyed it. I will make much more tomorrow morning,” Kizmel replied with a smile, taking our plates. “Now, what is next? We can spend more time in camp preparing, or we can head out for the next mission.”

  “…Actually,” I said, shaking my head, “Asuna and I need to return to the human town for now.”

 
4

  KIZMEL OFFERED TO TELEPORT US WITH HER ELVEN magic—charm, rather—to a location near the main town, but Asuna and I gratefully declined. We headed through the narrow canyon, still choked with mist after the sunrise, and into the deep forest that made up most of the third floor.

  I turned back to look at the camp we’d spent the last fifteen hours around and glanced at its rippling flags. A few more yards into the forest, and they would already be invisible. Asuna had the same concerns on her mind.

  “…We’ll be able to get back here, won’t we?”

  “We can make it back…I think. It should be marked on our maps.”

  “You think? It should?”

  She looked even more skeptical now. I opened my menu and flipped to the map tab. Most of the Forest of Wavering Mists that made up the southern half of the floor was grayed out, with only the routes we’d traveled visible. But the locations we’d visited—the exit of the staircase from below, the queen spider’s cave, and the dark elf base—were all marked by dots, so we’d be able to reach them again without getting lost…I hoped.

  First we set off for the staircase pavilion through which we’d come to this floor. That required trudging through the forest without a path, of course, but it wasn’t the main reason for the feeling of concern in our hearts. We were without our talented NPC guide—the elite mob Dark Elven Royal Guard Kizmel—and that left us feeling alone and vulnerable.

  Perhaps we should have waited a few days to return to town and stayed here doing quests with Kizmel instead, I wondered. Asuna spoke up, her voice as weak as my own thoughts.

  “Hey…About Kizmel…”

  But her words faded out before she could form them into a clear question. I glanced over at the fencer, whose hood was pulled back. The fleeting smile on her lips seemed to contain a number of different emotions.

  “…We can’t keep relying on her the way we have. We’re going to have to say good-bye to her someday…”

  “Good point,” I agreed, then spread my hands. “Besides, my beater knowledge doesn’t help us out regarding Kizmel. Ever since you beat that forest elf guy in the original battle, we’ve been on a quest path that I’ve never been part of.”