Bushido Online: Friends and Foes: A LitRPG Saga

by Nikita Thorn

  “It’s to offset the fact that obake are really weak against direct physical damage. We learned that the hard way running the crane dungeon over and over. The angry merchants came, and one direct hit or a badly-timed Disperse and our two obake would poof.” She giggled again. “Not helped at all by the fact that you’re wearing zeroes.”

  Just then Koharu ran back through the wall. “I get it now,” she said. “It’s a puzzle.”

  “What about, demonic wolves?” asked Mairin.

  “No wolves,” said Koharu. “Like I said, it’s a puzzle.” She paused for a moment. “With a whole lot of pigs.” She seemed strangely ambivalent about the thought.

  Since neither Seiki nor Mairin could walk through walls, and because it would not be very courteous to break through the side of the old lady’s guestroom, they took the long way through the front door and around the house. The dirt path was very small and grass had grown over it, which made it seem as if the old lady was the only one who ever used it. It must have been a lonely existence indeed.

  “Okay,” said Mairin, as they reached the end of the path. “That’s really a lot of pigs.”

  The pigpen in the back of the house was in a large circular clearing packed with dirt. The pen was a gateless octagon with waist-height bamboo fencing. On the far end appeared to be a series of cages in which the animals could be kept safe. And in the middle, running around frantically, were about one and a half dozens of restless and very muddy piglets, which seemed black and gray in the moonlight.

  “Kinda cute,” said Koharu. “But … I don’t know about this.”

  “Now where are the wolves?” asked the kitsune, looking toward the tall grassy field beyond the clearing.

  There was still no wind, and the fields around were quiet, making the sounds of tiny feet sloshing in the mud very obvious. Seiki had a feeling it was going to be some very dirty business ahead.

  “No wolves,” said Koharu again. “You’re just supposed to get them into those cages.”

  “Well, something squealed like it was being eaten,” said Mairin, perhaps still hoping for something to fight.

  Koharu shrugged. “I guess this is like one of those farm quests.”

  Seiki had done quite a few of those. Personally, he had no real objection, since repetitive tasks were better than sitting still, especially when he had deeply unpleasant things to mull over. Plus, he could not help remembering in slight amusement what Master Tsujihara would say: labor built character.

  Koharu shook her head. “Here’s the thing, though. There are four cages.” She pointed to one corner of the pen, with four boxes laid out side by side. “Eighteen pigs, so you need to figure out how many to put in each.”

  Seiki wondered how she had managed to count them. The moon was bright, but the animals were covered in mud and were difficult to distinguish from their surroundings; not to mention the fact that they refused to keep still.

  “Just do four, four, five, five?” suggested Mairin.

  Koharu laughed. “It’s a bit more complicated than that.”

  It turned out to be much more complicated than that. The cages would sink a little into the mud as animals were added to them, but each did so to a different degree, even with the same number of animals. The doors of the cages swung freely, and to keep them shut a long metal bar had to be driven through each of the horizontal metal cylinders attached to the front of the doors—which was only possible when all four cages were perfectly level.

  “How do you know this?” Mairin wondered.

  “Last time, when I came alone, I took a stroll around before I went into the house. Then I just asked the old lady about it and she complained how it was impossible to keep the cages lined up.” She laughed. “I didn’t know what she was talking about then, but when I saw the metal bar I understood.”

  Mairin sighed. “There are too many possible combinations.”

  Koharu giggled. “Gotta get kids to do their math.”

  Seiki observed the cages. One thing for certain was that it was not about math, since—as Mairin said—it would be impossible to try out all the combinations. It was rather about finding a viable problem-solving strategy. “Let’s get going, then,” he said, starting to climb over the fence. The irony of the fact that the pen was octagonal was not lost on him. And as he sank ankle-deep into the thick, wet mud on the other side, he simply had to laugh bitterly at the idea that perhaps chasing virtual pigs was the only thing he was capable of now.

  “Thank God you don’t have to wash these afterward,” muttered Koharu, as she Faded through the fence, grimacing as the edge of her embroidered kimono instantly got covered with mud.

  “We can start with two cages,” said Mairin. “The only way this is going to be possible is if the pigs are all identical, which we need to assume they are. And since it’s not like you can do half a pig, once we can make the first two cages level, the rest will be easy.”

  Seiki made his way toward the cages and tried pushing them down. But it was impossible to tell the minute differences between each of them. A thought then occurred to him, going from Mairin’s suggestion. “How about we put nine in each? Then, we slowly take one away from the cage that sinks lower, until both are level?”

  He was not sure that his idea was foolproof, but they agreed that it sounded like the most time-saving method. Putting it to practice, however, turned out to be a different story. The piglets were the size of a small cat, fast, slippery and very touchy about being picked up. And even when they were already in the cage, they would push their way out through the swinging door as soon as they had a chance.

  Koharu wondered if her Nether Chills would slow them down. But they quickly learned that, as soon as the piglets were hurt, they turned into Enraged Piglets [Level 13 Elite], which were impossible fight. Then, they had to scramble over the fence away from them and wait for them to reset.

  “Comical,” muttered Mairin, quoting Ippei, as she shook thick mud off her shoes.

  They eventually came to the conclusion that the best way was for Mairin to herd them into the cages like sheep, while Koharu blocked the front of the cages, ensuring that the doors would only swing inward to prevent any animals already inside from getting out. Seiki was in charge of keeping track to make certain they had nine in both cages.

  Letting one out at a time and trying if the metal bar would fit after each step, they finally managed to level the first two cages with five pigs in each. Unfortunately, they soon found out that they could not get the third cage to match no matter what.

  They had given up on trying to stay clean a long time ago, and Seiki now had mud all over his arms up to his elbows. To keep his weapons clean, he had to put them on top of the cages. Koharu looked rather unhappy about the whole situation, but the white fox seemed to have decided to have fun as she dashed around while she chased the pigs, splashing tiny droplets of mud everywhere. Seiki could have sworn she ran close to them on purpose to get protests from Koharu.

  They let all the pigs out from the third cage and tried again, but still could not get it to match the first two cages.

  “Maybe we made a mistake somewhere,” said Koharu, a bit worriedly. “Should we start over?”

  Seiki had a feeling there was something wrong about the whole thing. He was convinced they had only let out one at a time, but they had no better idea. So, they let all the piglets out and tried again. This was ultimately more time-consuming than fighting demonic wolves.

  Following the same strategy, they managed to level the first two cages once more; this time, with three pigs in one and five in the other.

  Seiki studied the cages, feeling a little troubled. There was something out of their control here that made the two results different. “Maybe we’re doing this all wrong,” said Seiki, though at the moment he could not quite figure out what it was. “You said we had to assume the pigs were all identical?” he asked Mairin.

  The kitsune did not answer him, and he tur
ned to check.

  In the middle of the pen, amid the remaining piglets, was a dead white fox.

  Seiki looked back at Koharu in alarm to see if she knew what happened, but the obake seemed to be as perplexed as he was. “Did you see what happened?”

  Koharu shook her head.

  Seiki slid the metal bar through the first two cages which were already level to keep them shut, before grabbing his sword and dagger from the top of the cages. The body of the white fox evaporated after a few seconds.

  Scanning the fields around, Seiki could not make out any movement. There had been no sound and no warning. Mairin herself had not even let out a peep. So, whatever killed her must have been powerful enough to do it in one blow. It must have been a projectile, he thought.

  “Did you hear anything at all?” he turned to ask Koharu.

  The obake had disappeared from her spot beside the cages.

  “Koharu?” Seiki looked around warily at the dark and very still grass around.

  There was still nothing to be heard, except the tiny splatters from the piglets in the pen, and the slight movement from the ones already in the first two cages. Seiki found himself alone in the middle of a potentially haunted farm.

  He heard something coming down the road. As the newcomer arrived into the clearing, he saw that it was the white fox, who had presumably resurrected in front of the house and had run back.

  “What the heck was that?” Mairin asked, as she reached him, looking around. “And where’s Koharu again?”

  Seiki shook his head.

  Mairin wrinkled her brow. “Did something kill her too?”

  “I don’t know,” said Seiki. “We were—”

  That was when someone splashed ice cold water on him, or at least that was what it felt like. It happened so quickly that it gave him no time to react. The next thing he knew, he was being violently yanked down into a dark sea of freezing cold in the most unpleasant way possible.

  Almost instantly, Seiki gasped awake on the hard ground in front of the old lady’s house. He grunted as he sat up too fast and worsened the effect of the death nausea—which, thankfully, lasted for only five seconds since he was in an instance. Like a normal resurrection, his sword and dagger were laid out neatly beside him.

  As the dizziness cleared, he re-equipped them and leapt to his feet, slightly confused as to what had occurred. He no longer wondered why Mairin could not tell what had killed her. He had just gone through the same thing and he was entirely clueless.

  Seiki ran back along the tiny dirt path between the tall grass to the pigpen behind the house, where Mairin and Koharu were standing by the cages, looking suspiciously around.

  “What is killing us?” asked the kitsune.

  Koharu seemed troubled with the idea of an invisible enemy. “Well, the farm’s haunted and all,” she said slowly.

  “Maybe it’s a glitch,” said Mairin. “We should just get it over with as quickly as possible. Since now we’ve already got two cages done.”

  Seiki took a deep breath. That did not make any sense. He had been the one watching the cages both times, and different results left him with only one explanation.

  Koharu was already lifting the door of the third cage, and the white fox was trying to get a few more piglets in, when Koharu vanished again in a puff of smoke. Seiki had been watching and, suddenly, he knew what it was.

  “Get out of there!” he yelled to Mairin.

  It could only mean one thing.

  The white fox had not seen the obake disappear and, at the sound of his voice, she turned back into human form to look at where Koharu had been. “Did you see what happened?” she asked Seiki in puzzlement.

  “Get out of there,” said Seiki again. “It’s the pigs!”

  Mairin glanced down at the animals, and then Dashed over the fence, before running around the outside of the pen toward where Seiki stood. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  Seiki was not quite sure yet, and he carefully observed the animals in the pen. They looked innocent enough, but there was no other explanation. This would also explain why they had different results from the first two times.

  Koharu had run back to rejoin them.

  “I stopped to ask the old lady if her pigs were all identical,” she said.

  “And?” said Mairin.

  “She said, yes, they were all identical,” said the obake. “All seventeen of them.”

  It was a trick puzzle. This was why they got different results for the same experiment: there was one unknown variable. One pig was different, and it was the one killing them. The trick was figuring out which.

  “Hold me?” said Mairin, out of the blue.

  Before Seiki could ask what she meant, the white fox was leaping up at him, and he soon had a small, warm, muddy fox in his arms. Realizing what she was trying to achieve, he held the white fox above the fence as she used her superior night vision to study the animals.

  Then, without warning, she Dashed off over the fence. She splashed softly into the mud, before starting to run in a large circle. After a few seconds, Seiki recognized she was singling one of the animals out. Taking her chance, the white fox made a daring pass at the animal, her Fox Dust exploding around her.

  Once she got a hit in, the animal revealed its true form through the label.

  Katakirauwa [Level 13 Elite]. HP 880/880.

  The kitsune Dashed out of there and seemed surprised she was still alive.

  Seiki jumped over the fence and drew his sword as he faced the animal. It looked exactly the same as the other piglets.

  “One ear,” said Mairin. “And no shadow.”

  Not quite able to make out the number of ears, or even the presence of shadows underneath all the mud and the pale moonlight, Seiki had to rely on the label alone.

  “If you can keep the rest away,” Seiki began.

  Now that it had been discovered, the Katakirauwa, or whatever exactly it was, had stopped to study the situation.

  Koharu had run to the cage door, and Mairin was trying the best she could to get the other pigs in. Still, there were a few running amok and Seiki kept his eyes fixed on the Katakirauwa.

  “Can you do something?” said Seiki. The black pig took a few steps forward. “I don’t know how it kills. So watch if it kills me and determine how.”

  The demon pig charged, and Seiki was made aware of several factors that differentiated this from any fight he had been in so far. First of all, if he were to use Sweeping Blade at all, it would have to be with extreme caution, since there were other animals around, and he doubted he could deal with another Level 13 Elite. The second problem was more troubling: his target was tiny, and Focused Strike was most natural at waist height. Parry was most likely just a waste of energy, so that left him with only one option.

  Stepping forward with his right foot and taking aim, he swung his blade diagonally upward with both hands just as the Katikirauwa dashed toward his feet, deciding to trade attack for attack with Upslash.

  The impact was much stronger than he had expected. Yet, the demon pig seemed hardly affected, and Seiki twisted his body to ease the pressure on his sword as the animal shot past him.

  Katakirauwa [Level 13 Elite]. HP 718/880.

  Relieved that his move did damage, Seiki readied himself again before the animal could turn around. But now he had another issue: Upslash was on its one-minute lockout.

  Mairin and Koharu had managed to get about half the remaining piglets into the third cage, leaving four, plus the Katikirauwa, still on the loose. They did not have time to level the cages, so they could not be shut, and Koharu was forced to stand in front of it just to prevent the animals from escaping.

  Obake abilities had range, though. Koharu held out her hand, and a thin stream of dark cloud shot out as she attempted to Life Drain the Katikirauwa. The black pig turned and went toward her, leaving Seiki no choice. The ronin dashed after it, fully aware that Koharu could not t
ake a single hit and they could not afford to leave the cage doors unattended.

  Katakirauwa [Level 13 Elite]. HP 509/880.

  The only way to catch up with it was to Slide. Seiki mapped out the path on the ground before letting himself loose on the trajectory. It was dark, it was unplanned, and the slippery ground was making it difficult to judge. Seiki did his best to keep his balance as he aimed for the demon beast with Focused Strike. The tip of his Hikari connected, and then slipped off as the Katakirauwa twisted its body, lessening the damage of the pierce.

  The Katakirauwa spun around, abandoning Koharu, and charged at Seiki, letting out an ear-piercing shriek.

  Katakirauwa [Level 13 Elite]. HP 360/880.

  This was the squeal they had heard earlier, Seiki was thinking to himself, when a strange kind of dizziness hit him.

  Staggering, he caught his balance, and lifted his sword to Parry as the beast charged at his leg. The air now felt as thick as water, and the Hikari in his hand seemed twice as heavy. Pouring more energy into the move, he managed to bring the blade up just in time to block the attack, knocking the Katakirauwa aside.

  The black pig hardly lost any speed as it let out another squeal, and Seiki winced while another bout of dizziness washed over him. He had not lost any health, but his vision blurred from the effect, and the mud around his ankles felt like wet cement.

  The bone-chilling splash of cold crashed onto him, followed by darkness that was death. A second later, Seiki sat up on the ground in front of the old farmhouse, waiting for the nausea to pass. The thing had killed him again, and he still ignored how.

  Wasting no time, Seiki grabbed his weapons from the ground as soon as he could and ran back around the house. The moon had not moved from its spot high in the sky, and the tall grass was still untroubled by wind. He hoped someone had figured out how the pig was murdering them.

  As he approached, he saw that Koharu was up on the roof of the cages, bending down to keep the doors shut with her hands. Inside the pen, the white fox was kiting the Katakirauwa around, nearly out of energy to Dash.