Copyright
SWORD ART ONLINE, Volume 11: ALICIZATION TURNING
REKI KAWAHARA
Translation by Stephen Paul
Cover art by abec
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
SWORD ART ONLINE
©REKI KAWAHARA 2012
All rights reserved.
Edited by ASCII MEDIA WORKS
First published in Japan in 2012 by KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo.
English translation rights arranged with KADOKAWA CORPORATION, Tokyo, through Tuttle-Mori Agency, Inc., Tokyo.
English translation © 2017 by Yen Press, LLC
Yen Press, LLC supports the right to free expression and the value of copyright. The purpose of copyright is to encourage writers and artists to produce the creative works that enrich our culture.
The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book without permission is a theft of the author’s intellectual property. If you would like permission to use material from the book (other than for review purposes), please contact the publisher. Thank you for your support of the author’s rights.
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Kawahara, Reki, author. | Abec, 1985– illustrator. | Paul, Stephen (Translator) translator.
Title: Sword art online. Volume 11, Alicization turning / Reki Kawahara, abec ; translation, Stephen Paul.
Other titles: Alicization turning
Description: First Yen On edition. | New York, NY : Yen On, 2017. | Series: Sword art online ; 11
Identifiers: LCCN 2014001175 | ISBN 9780316371247 (v. 1 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316376815 (v. 2 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316296427 (v. 3 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316296434 (v. 4 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316296441 (v. 5 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316296458 (v. 6 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316390408 (v. 7 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316390415 (v. 8 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316390422 (v. 9 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316390439 (v. 10 : pbk.) | ISBN 9780316390446 (v. 11 : pbk.)
Subjects: | CYAC: Science fiction. | BISAC: FICTION / Science Fiction / Adventure.
Classification: pz7.K1755Ain 2014 | DDC [Fic]—dc23
LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2014001175
ISBNs: 978-0-316-39044-6 (paperback)
978-0-316-56103-7 (ebook)
E3-20170714-JV-PC
CHAPTER FIVE
THE RIGHT EYE SEAL, MAY 380 HE
1
The Underworld.
That was the name of the world, but because it was in the sacred tongue and not the common language, hardly any of the world’s residents understood its meaning.
At the center of the Underworld was the human empire, a realm encompassing a circle 1,500 kilors across. A rocky range called the End Mountains formed its border. Beyond that was the Dark Territory, home to nonhuman races like goblins and orcs—or so it was said. Almost no humans had ever seen it for themselves.
The human realm was split into four empires, the northernmost of which was the Norlangarth Empire, a place of fertile fields, deep forests, and numerous lakes. At the southern tip of the fan-shaped empire was the capital of North Centoria. The other three empires were structured exactly the same way so that the four capitals connected to form one small circle, the entirety of which was simply called “Centoria.”
At the dead center of Centoria was the towering stronghold of the Axiom Church that formed the center of the world, ruling over the four empires with its unbreakable Taboo Index and Integrity Knights that together upheld the structure of the realm.
The tower was known as Central Cathedral, and it seemed to stretch nearly all the way to glowing Solus above. It was the center of humanity in all respects—which meant that it had to be the center of the Underworld as a whole, as well.
This was the world as Eugeo knew it.
Two years had passed since the spring when he’d left his little village of Rulid—at the far northern reach of the northern empire—with his partner, Kirito. They had made their way into the sentinel garrison at Zakkaria, largest town in the north, and then left for Centoria last spring with a handwritten recommendation from the garrison commander. There, they cleared the entrance test for the North Centoria Imperial Swordcraft Academy, the empire’s finest school for swordfighting; worked hard for a year as primary trainees; and scored two of the top twelve spots on the advancement test.
Rather than becoming secondary trainees, those twelve high-scoring students were granted the title of “elite disciple.” Disciples got their own dorm building with a roomy training hall, freedom from many of the onerous regulations of the academy, and an entire year of intensive training to prepare for their next goal: an appearance in the Imperial Battle Tournament.
The daily studies, sword instruction, and free training time were exhausting, but it was a dream come true for Eugeo. If he hadn’t met the peculiar black-haired Kirito in the forest two years ago, he would still be swinging his woodcutter’s ax until the day he retired of old age. Instead, he was mingling with the children of Centorian nobles, learning sword techniques and sacred arts, and making progress toward his true goal.
Unlike the other pupils, Eugeo’s dream was not merely to triumph in the gloried Four-Empire Unification Tournament and ascend to be one of the few, proud Integrity Knights. He wanted to be a knight so that he could pass through the gate of the Central Cathedral—a privilege even first-rank nobles did not possess—and reunite with Alice Zuberg, his childhood friend who had been taken there years ago.
This infinitesimally small hope had lain dormant for years until Kirito had come along and rekindled it. In fact, the two had worked together to overcome every obstacle blocking their path. Eugeo helped teach Kirito the Basic Imperial Laws that he’d lost all memory of, and Kirito taught Eugeo his unique Aincrad style of swordfighting. They’d come this far by acting like brothers…like twins.
Even now, as elite disciples, Eugeo and Kirito shared lodging in the dormitory. But they shared only the common space, as each had his own bedroom. While Eugeo still felt guilty about the beds being far bigger and softer than any back home in Rulid, their bathing room having as much hot water as they wanted, and their ample portions at the elite disciples’ mess hall, Kirito had adjusted to all of it almost instantly.
Even Kirito, though, had at least as much trouble as Eugeo at one particular thing.
The dormitory was not the only privilege the top twelve received from the academy. Every disciple had a primary trainee who served as his or her page and personal servant. Eugeo himself had been a page to an open-minded and generous disciple last year, and he’d actually enjoyed it quite a bit…but things were different once the tables were turned.
Eugeo’s page was a sixth-rank noble girl named Tiese Schtrinen who had only just turned sixteen. Kirito’s page was another sixth-rank girl of sixteen years named Ronie Arabel, and these two were a source of severe discomfort for two boys from the countryside.
For her part, Tiese didn’t seem bothered by the relationship at all. The lively girl with burning-red hair and reddish eyes of a tint rarely seen in the far north was blessed with plenty of motivation and dedication, and as her tutor, Eugeo often felt that he wa
s the one getting lessons. But the part he would never get used to was having his needs attended to by a noble, three years younger than he and a girl to boot. Every single day, he would complain that he could take care of some task or another, and Tiese would insist, “No, this is the page’s duty!”
Kirito’s situation with Ronie was similar in many ways. Over the past month, whenever she’d showed up to clean his room, he’d often managed to find some reason not to be there.
On this, the seventeenth day of the fifth month of the year 380 HE, Kirito waltzed back into the room just as Tiese and Ronie were done cleaning. He had a large paper sack in his arms, full of the delectable honey pies from the Jumping Deer over on East Third Street in North Centoria District Six. He removed one each for himself and Eugeo, then gave the rest to the girls and instructed them to share with their roommates.
Primary trainees were forbidden to leave on weekdays, so of course they could never go out to market to buy treats like this. The girls were ecstatic at this unexpected gift, and it was the first time Eugeo ever saw them run, rather than walk, back to the primary trainee dorm.
Part of the disciple’s duty was to bond with the page and teach them in all areas of life, not just swordfighting, so perhaps the foodstuffs were a part of that effort—but Eugeo couldn’t help but find it more like simple bribery. He glanced sidelong at Kirito, who finished chewing his pie with a satisfied grin and said, “So, Eugeo, shall we engage in a little practice before dinner?”
“I don’t mind in the least, but remember, tomorrow’s the higher sacred arts exam. And it’s not just a written test but a demonstration of your least favorite subject: generating ice elements.”
“Ugh…”
Kirito had been reaching for his wooden practice sword, but this reminder stopped him short. He seemed to be grappling with his impulses for several seconds, then sighed and lowered his hand. “Why do I still have to study for tests after coming this far…?” he muttered wistfully.
As Kirito said, Eugeo never imagined himself studying sacred arts in Centoria when he was a simple woodcutter in Rulid. Sword practice was, of course, much more fun than memorizing complex rituals, but if they neglected their sacred arts studies, eventually even top marks in swordsmanship would not be enough to win them entry into the Battle Tournament.
Of course, Kirito didn’t need Eugeo to explain any of this to him. He swept back the black hair that matched his uniform and said weakly, “Eugeo, I’ll be studying all the way until lights-out, so if you could bring my supper from the mess hall, I would appreciate it.”
“Got it. You know, you’d find it a lot easier if you just studied it bit by bit on a regular basis.”
“You are indeed correct, young Eugeo. Alas, not all of us are capable of such feats,” Kirito lamented, plodding across the living room. He soon vanished through the north door into his bedroom.
Unlike the primary trainee dorm, the elite disciples’ quarters were totally circular. The building’s three-story structure was hollow inside, with interior walkways lining the walls, and the bedrooms were all located along the south exterior.
On the first floor were the mess hall and shared bath chamber, while six student rooms made up the second floor and another six occupied the third. Each pair of rooms had a shared common room between them, and Eugeo and Kirito’s suite was on the third floor.
Room placement was determined automatically by the individual results of the end-of-year exams. The top scorer received Room 301 at the east end of the third floor, second place got Room 302, and so on, such that the twelfth-place student was in Room 206 on the second floor. Eugeo was in Room 305 and Kirito was in 306, which meant that out of the 120 primary trainees, Eugeo had ranked fifth overall and Kirito sixth.
Their adjacent ranks were partially a result of intent and partially just good luck. Originally their plan was for numbers one and two, of course—that being the only surefire way to get paired together—but in the practical test against the sword instructors, Kirito scored fourth and Eugeo fifth. That would have split them apart, but Kirito lost points in the exhibition of forms and sacred arts, which bumped him down to sixth.
So they achieved their goal of sharing a common room, but it also created a new concern.
In one year—no, ten months—they needed to graduate as first and second in the class so they could qualify for the Imperial Battle Tournament. Kirito had been seventh and Eugeo eighth on the school entrance exams, so this was an improvement, but it was hard to be optimistic with four others ranking above them.
Kirito seemed to be more relaxed about it, as if just being an elite disciple was his only goal. His confidence wasn’t without merit. Disciples’ ranks were determined by test matches held four times in the year, rather than the overall scores from the previous year. These matches were against other students, not instructors, so rather than using traditional scoring criteria, winning was all that mattered.
And Eugeo’s norms-busting partner, as a primary trainee just two and a half months ago, had defeated the former first-seat disciple in a one-on-one duel. Technically, the judge ruled that it was a draw, but given the circumstances, it was undoubtedly a victory for Kirito. His foe was the son of a second-rank noble house that traditionally served as sword instructors for the Imperial Knights.
Eugeo had his own confidence in his abilities thanks to two years of instruction in Kirito’s own Aincrad style. But he wasn’t as optimistic as his partner. He certainly wasn’t cocky enough to ignore his daily regimen, even the night before a written test when book study was crucial.
With his sparring partner withdrawing to his room for an emergency cram session, Eugeo had no choice but to take his own sword and leave.
Beyond the interior hallway across from the door was the hollow space from the ground all the way up to the skylight cap on the roof, through which the red of the sunset was visible. There hadn’t been a building this extravagant even in Zakkaria, much less his humble home of Rulid. The floor beneath his feet was luxurious, polished wood, and the curved interior wall featured several works of art based on imperial history.
If I told my brothers back home that I lived in such luxury and even had my own servant, they’d never believe me, he thought as he made his way down the long walkway.
Elite disciple or not, he was still just a student getting VIP treatment. If this was what he got now, what kind of lifestyle comforts must the mighty finalists of the Unification Tournament receive—to say nothing of the Integrity Knights ranked above any of the four emperors?
“…Whoops!” he said, rapping his head with the wooden sword resting on his shoulder.
After a year at the school, Eugeo was getting used to it, but there were times that he felt guilty, as if he’d forgotten how he’d felt when he’d left home. He was here to raise his profile as a swordsman, not to indulge in the comforts of wealth and fame.
“Alice,” he mumbled, reminding himself.
Everything he was doing here—winning the test matches, striving to be an Integrity Knight—was merely a means, not the goal. It was all to gain access to the Central Cathedral, so that he could be reunited with his childhood friend imprisoned inside it…
He descended the stairs on the northern side of the building and headed for the special training hall adjacent to the dorm. This was another privilege of the disciples—as a primary trainee, he’d practiced the sword at the packed hall and outdoor training grounds, but now he had a spacious area available at any time, with no waiting period.
At the end of a short walkway, Eugeo pushed open the door and was greeted by the fresh scent of the training hall floorboards, which were replaced every spring. He stopped, started to breathe in a fragrant lungful, then froze. There was an oily, clinging perfume mingling in the air.
After he proceeded through the changing room into the hall, his foreboding was confirmed.
Two male students in the center of the wood floor noticed Eugeo and scowled. They were practicing their for
ms. One of them had paused with his wooden sword held aloft, while the other was adjusting the angle of his feet. Both of them lowered their arms in a very pointed way.
Don’t worry, I’m not going to steal your forms, Eugeo thought. He gave them a brief bow and headed for the corner of the training hall. He figured they would ignore him like usual, but this time, one of them stepped toward him and said, “Well, well. All alone tonight, Disciple…Eugeo?”
It was the one who’d been raising his sword. His broad chest was wrapped in a vivid red uniform, and waves of golden hair flowed down his back. There was a pleasant smile on his handsome face, but the way he had paused before saying Eugeo’s name and lingered on it after was a subtle dig at Eugeo’s birth to a frontier family that didn’t have its own surname.
Responding to each and every minor slight would be a waste of good training time, so Eugeo ignored the barb and replied, “Good evening, Disciple Antinous. Unfortunately, my room partner—”
The second man cut him off with a screech. “Insolence! When you speak Raios’s name, you must address him as ‘First Seat Disciple’!”
This one had gray hair tamped down with oils and a pale-yellow uniform. Eugeo turned to him with more open distaste and bowed. “Please forgive me, Disciple Zizek.”
The other man bristled even more and stomped forward. “You commit insolence upon insolence! You must address me as ‘Second Seat’! You betray the rich history and tradition of our hallowed academy with every act…”
“Now, now, Humbert,” said the first man, clapping his partner on the shoulder.
The fellow with the gray hair, Humbert Zizek, was indeed the second seat of the twelve elite disciples, while his golden-haired partner, Raios Antinous, was the first seat—the man who had taken over the position from Volo Levantein, whom Kirito beat in a duel before the end of the school year.
Unlike Volo, who had the quiet air of an accomplished warrior, Raios exhibited a higher noble’s opulent arrogance—yet their sword styles were quite similar. That had a lot to do with the fact that they both practiced the High-Norkia style, but it was still strange. Raios was refined (and twisted), while Volo placed all his focus into one straightforward, overpowering attack.
Alicization Turning Page 1
