Sword Art Online Progressive

by Reki Kawahara

  “...Then we have no choice but to build up that skill.”

  Asuna really was dead serious on taking every last step to ensure we got the best possible boat. “Oh, but the log I picked up did say it was ‘Noblewood.’ Does that mean it’s actually pretty fancy?”

  “Yeah. See, they set up a way for you to get the luxury stuff without needing the Lumber skill. You just have to use the overgrown teddy...”

  Right as I said that, the overgrown teddy was recovering from the damage of its hurt tail. It started loping toward us on all fours, then lowered its horns for another charge attack.

  “Here it comes! Find a big tree...”

  “Over there,” Asuna said, pointing to the southwest while I was distracted watching the bear. She had indeed found a tree that was just as big as the one the bear had pulverized minutes ago, looming black against the night sky.

  “Okay, now we need to get it to–”

  “To charge into the tree, I know. Then I’ll pick up the log, and you go and guide it toward the next big tree. Got it.”

  *

  Driven in a way that I’d never seen before, Asuna gave most of the orders as we coordinated to eventually cause twelve bear-on-tree collisions.

  The number of Noblewood Cores that dropped from each tree was randomly determined between zero and three, which caused us both frustration and elation, and once we were comfortable with leading the bear around, both of us had essentially maxed out our storage capacity. I couldn’t help but fall back on that old curse, If only I’d chosen the Inventory Space Expansion...

  “I don’t know if this will be enough for the shipwright, but we can’t carry any more than this anyway. Once we get him sitting again, let’s break away and return to town,” I whispered to my partner.

  “We still don’t have the fat, though,” she pointed out.

  I grimaced at the sky. “R-right...crap. And the quest won’t advance unless we give him that. And I suppose compromising with normal bear fat is–”

  “Out of the question.”

  “Of course,” I agreed, crestfallen. I used the Magnatherium’s current post-charge sitting state to check on its HP status.

  I’d taken the time to attack its tail and legs a few times during our careful manipulation, and while it was tempting to think that I’d already got it down to only 90 percent, the truth was that it still had almost 90 percent left. If I was serious about defeating the creature, I had to abandon the evasion-centric plan we’d been following and risk danger to challenge it in close combat.

  The Magnatherium would only charge when there was enough distance between it at the target, but I knew from experience that it would breathe fire at point-blank range. I wasn’t guaranteed to successfully dash through its legs each time, and neither was there any guarantee that I’d find a spring nearby. Based on how much heat the water had absorbed in those attempts, I couldn’t just stick close to one particular well and reuse it.

  Asuna read my mind. “There’s a series of four springs in close succession over there. If you use them in order, you might be able to keep evading the fire.”

  “Ah, great.”

  Her powers of observation and decision making were second to none, as usual. But I had my doubts. I asked the fencer something that was weighing on my mind.

  “Asuna. You’re not just...being stubborn, right?”

  “Huh...?”

  I glanced over at her and elaborated.

  “The old man wants to build the best boat possible. So you want to get him the best materials you can–that’s what you said. But if that sentiment is something the game is making you say, because you don’t want to let it win, to make you feel like you’re not good enough...then I don’t think we should fight that bear. Victory in this game, in this world, isn’t completing quests with the best result...”

  “It’s to survive,” she finished in a faint whisper. “Don’t worry, I’m not focusing on the results. The biggest motive for doing this is that I think you and I can beat that bear.”

  My only response to that was to smile awkwardly.

  “Then promise me one thing. The next time I tell you to run, you do it instantly, without argument.”

  “All right,” she responded instantly. I was ready–we’d observed the deadly Magnatherium for over twenty minutes, and its patterns weren’t really that complex. We could win, as long as we kept our concentration strong.

  “When it comes to close combat, I’ll deflect its attacks with sword skills, and you can switch in for a single attack. Don’t push your luck, even if you think you can get another sword skill in.”

  “Got it.”

  “So...shall we?”

  We readied ourselves at the same time that the bear recovered from its prone position. I stared down the giant beast as it lumbered closer on all fours, shutting all unnecessary thoughts out of my head.

  I squeezed my trusty sword and launched off the soggy ground toward the concentrated spring area that Asuna had found.

  4

  I had been naive.

  I never realized it was quite that strong.

  Truly astonishing precision and power. It was the only possible description for the combination of Asuna’s sword skills and Chivalric Rapier +5.

  “See? I told you we could win,” she commented with a grin at the end of our fifty-minute battle with the beast–half of which was simply running around to get it to knock over trees. I could only gaze up at her.

  While she did seem a bit tired, it was nothing compared to my slumped exhaustion. She spryly checked on her dropped items. When she hit the newly acquired items tab, she let out a brief squeal of excitement.

  “Ooh, wow! I got four Legendary Bear Fats. There’s also some pelts, claws, and...what’s this? Fire-Bear’s Palm?”

  “I wouldn’t materialize that if I were you. It’s bound to be disgusting,” I warned, heaving myself up to a standing position to open my own window.

  I had three more deposits of bear fat. That had to be enough for the quest. I also had fur and claws, though no paw, for better or for worse. Instead, there was one Fire-Bear’s Horn. That must be one of the horns from the Magnatherium’s forehead.

  With one last glance at the time, I closed my menu and yawned.

  It was past eleven at night, and though I’d gotten some sleep in the afternoon, I was now completely fatigued.

  “Umm...Asuna?”

  “What?”

  “When we get back to town, are you going to report on the quest immediately?”

  “Of course I am.”

  “Of course you are.”

  If only the old shipwright is actually awake, I thought.

  On the way back to town, we only had one enemy encounter against the plant monster Gaudy Nepenthes, so the return trip to Rovia’s southern gate was rather painless. We hailed one of the gondolas, which were apparently open for business twenty-four hours a day, and headed to the northwest sector of town.

  By the time we reached the old man’s house, it was 11:50, but the window was still lit, so we knocked without hesitation. As usual, the ancient shipwright was sunk into his rocking chair, alternating endlessly between bottle and pipe.

  “We brought the bear fat,” Asuna said, producing the bear fat, which fortunately materialized in a small jar, rather than open to the air. The old man twitched an eyebrow.

  “That stink...You got the king’s fat, didn’t ya?”

  The whiskey bottle fell to the floor. His sinewy hand snatched the jar of grease away, and with a little jingle, our quest logs updated.

  “Hmph. But this ain’t enough.”

  He set the jar down on the nearby table with a thunk. I shared a look with Asuna and brought out a jar of my own this time. The old man still shook his head, and for a moment I was terrified that we might have to fight the bear monster again, but at last, at the fourth jar, the chime sounded again.

  “Hmph. Very well. You really want this old bag of bones to build you a ship, eh?”
<
br />   “Of course. We need your help, sir!” Asuna pleaded, not that he could truly be moved by that. The old man set his pipe on the table and raised his hands. His fingers, scarred and tattered, wiggled in the air vibrantly for a moment, then fell and dangled again.

  “...As I told you, the Water Carriers Guild controls all of the supplies now. To make you a boat, I’ll need a whole lot of lumber. And that’s solid birch or oak from the southeast forest.”

  He paused for dramatic effect, then continued.

  “But the greatest of shipbuilding lumber is teak. I can make you a truly sturdy craft if you can deliver me the solid core of a massive, aged teak. Then again, it might be beyond the ability of amateur lumberjacks...”

  The quest log updated, initiating part two of the “Shipwright of Yore.” Asuna and I promptly went to our menus, producing Noblewood Cores.

  The instant the reddened logs clunked down in a big stack, I thought I detected the old man’s eyes briefly going wide. Nah, had to be my imagination.

  By the time the elderly shipbuilder got up from his chair to start building the two-seat gondola we ordered, Asuna and I had unloaded four Legendary Bear Fats, eight Noblewood Cores, six Fire-Bear Claws–to be treated and carved into nails–and two Fire-Bear Pelts for upholstering the seats.

  I watched the old man carefully, relieved that we had enough of everything we needed. He crossed the cluttered room and stopped in front of a door on the south wall, then pulled a key from his pocket to remove the sturdy lock.

  The heavy door thunked open to reveal a carpentry storeroom. I spotted massive saws, hammers, chisels, and planes crammed into the space, all of them polished to a shine.

  “To think I’d have a chance to use these again one day,” the old man muttered wistfully.

  You’ll probably have a flood of orders by tomorrow, I thought to myself. Asuna and I appeared to be the only ones currently working on the “Shipwright of Yore,” but we weren’t going to be keeping it a secret. The members of the Dragon Knights and Liberation Squad were out there swimming in the canals and rivers to complete the various quest tasks outside of town.

  I couldn’t help but wish I could tell those proud front-runners, chanting in a line with their swim trunks and floaty tubes, but we ought to report our findings to Argo soon so she could disseminate the information. As a beater already, I had no fear of a bad reputation, but I didn’t want Asuna to suffer on my account.

  After all, she’d already earned a lot of attention for the power of her Chivalric Rapier in the third-floor boss battle. If the word got out that she had a de facto extra skill slot thanks to the Crystal Bottle of Kales’Oh, the two main powers of the front line would get truly serious about recruiting her. They might even...

  The old man’s returning footsteps snapped me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see him laying out a massive scroll on the tabletop. He smacked the pure white parchment with a hand and said, “Tell me how you want your boat built.”

  The quest log updated and brought up a purple window before our eyes. It appeared to be a gondola design dialog, full of text input fields and pull-down menus. At the very top, my name and Asuna’s were listed under the “owner” field. The quest must have been designed to give shared ownership rights to the entire party.

  “What is this?” Asuna asked, craning her neck over. I thought I detected a glint in her eyes. “Oooh, wow. So even on a two-seater, we can decide its shape and color and name and everything!”

  She reached out with a finger to explore the options, and I scooted over to make room for her, but the window followed me.

  “Hang on,” I said, bringing up the party settings menu and switching the leader position to Asuna. The quest progress was shared between all party members, but in many cases, spots where detailed decisions had to be made were restricted to just the leader.

  Now that she had inherited control from me, Asuna had stars in her eyes.

  “What color should we go with? It looks like we’ve got a whole RGB circle to choose from.”

  “I don’t care about the color...You choose, Asuna.”

  “Nuh-uh, the ownership is for the both of us, so we have to discuss and choose properly.”

  “Er, right...In that case, I pick bla–”

  “No black! I feel like it would just sink right away.”

  “Oh...okay. Well, then...”

  I just wanted to get it over with so we could return to the inn, but she would know–and be angry–if I didn’t take it seriously, so I tried to be logical.

  “Umm...well, the ship isn’t going to fit into our item storage, which means we’ll need to tie it up wherever we leave it. Perhaps a color that sticks out at night would be good. Something white or orange...”

  “I see. I think white would be nice–but not pure white, that’s boring. Maybe something closer to ivory.”

  “I-I don’t see why not.”

  “Let’s see...right about here,” Asuna said, tracing the color circle with her finger until she had selected a regal ivory white. No sooner had I sighed with relief than several other submenus appeared, asking for the off colors that would adorn the prow, stern, decorations, sides, and seats of the ship.

  “Um, I’ll just leave the rest of these up to you.”

  “Oh, fine...I’ll pick them all out, then,” Asuna said in apparent annoyance, despite the continuing presence of stars in her eyes. I backed away from her and sat down on a round chair next to the table.

  The old man, who was still patiently holding open the ship plans on the table, grumbled, “It’s always been said that a young lady takes three times as long to design her ship.”

  “Uh...I see. That’s...good to know,” I remarked.

  Ultimately, it wasn’t until one o’clock in the morning that the detailed coloring, ship design with various cosmetic features, placement and shape of seats, and other details were finalized. But when Asuna turned to me, she didn’t seem tired in the least.

  “Lastly, let’s give our boat a name.”

  “Uh...a n-name, huh...?”

  To be honest, I had zero faith in my naming ability. Even my character name, Kirito, was just a rearranging of my real name.

  “Umm...I will also leave that to your discretion,” I offered hopefully, but to my surprise, Asuna looked deep in thought already.

  “As a matter of fact, I had a great name come to me earlier.”

  “Oh...like what?”

  “Well, I read that in many foreign countries, they give boats female names...and it occurred to me that we should name it after Kizmel’s sister.”

  My eyes went wide with surprise.

  The Dark Elf knight Kizmel, whom we met on the third floor, had told me the story of her past in front of a gravestone in the back corner of their camp. She had a younger sister, an herbalist, who died in a battle with the Forest Elves.

  And her name was...

  “Tilnel, right? So it would be the Tilnel...Why not?” I said, nodding. Asuna beamed back at me.

  She typed in the letters into the field at the top of the window one at a time, then beckoned me over.

  “Is this spelling right?”

  I stood up from the chair and looked at what she had typed: Tilnel. I nodded.

  “Then let’s push the finalize button together.”

  “Whuh?!”

  “What? You don’t want to?”

  “Er, no, it’s not that, of course,” I said, shaking my head. I reached out my index finger toward the button on the lower right. Asuna did the same, then looked over at me, mouthing the words, “Ready, set...”

  Just as we were about to slam on the button together, I grabbed her hand and shouted, “No, wait!”

  “Wh-what?!”

  “Look, this field is still empty...”

  I pointed out a drop-down menu titled Optional Equipment. Asuna looked at it and shrugged.

  “Oh, that. Well, it didn’t have any options in it.”

  She poked the menu to show that the lis
ting that appeared was indeed empty. It probably meant that we didn’t have items that could be equipped on the boat.

  “Hmm...Do you mind if I check it myself, just in case?”

  “Go ahead.”

  With her permission, I reverted back to leader. When I checked the drop-down menu for myself–

  “Ooh, there’s something there!”

  “Huh? What is it?!”

  We stuck our faces together cheek to cheek to peer into the small window, which featured a single option.

  “Fire-Bear’s Horn...?”

  I felt a terrible premonition rise in my chest as I read the words. Asuna looked concerned as well.

  “Horn...like the kind of horn that the old galleys used to feature? Why would a gondola need something like that?”

  “I don’t know that you would need it yet. Especially since it seems like the options don’t show up unless you have the necessary items already...”

  After thinking it over, I figured that it was best just to ask, so I looked to the old man at the side of the table.

  “Um...” I started, then realized that I didn’t know what to call him. I checked the NPC’s color cursor and saw that his name was Romolo.

  “Um, Mr. Romolo. Will we need this optional horn?”

  I tried to make my question as simple as possible just in case, but old Romolo did not respond at once. I was afraid I’d asked him something his parameters were unable to answer, but he snorted before I could rephrase the question.

  “You won’t need it if you’re only going to ride around Rovia. But if you row out there, you might need it eventually.” “Meaning...we might need to fight monsters with the boat?” “Perhaps you will...perhaps you won’t,” he said unhelpfully. He smacked the spread-out parchment again. “At any rate, this is your ship. It’s your decision whether to attach the horn or not.”

  My partner and I shared another look. Asuna spoke up first. “You’re the one who has the materials, Kirito, so I’ll let you decide.”

  “Uh, rreally?”

  “Well, you let me pick out pretty much everything else about the boat, so I’ll let you have one thing at the end.”