by Nikita Thorn
“This war has already claimed too many lives,” said the lieutenant, looking sadly at the countless spirit tablets along the wall, before nodding. “This way, Seiki.”
On the opposite wall were several small antechambers that opened directly into the hall, and the lieutenant gestured toward the fourth one down.
Seiki had been secretly hoping for something ever since the lieutenant had mentioned his father, but what the lieutenant showed him still made him draw a short breath.
In the middle of the tiny chamber, he discovered a black spirit tablet with Master Tsujihara’s name written in gold. In front of it were a bronze incense pot, a burning candle and a pile of unlit incense. Seiki thought he would remain unaffected, since in the past few weeks he had told himself over and over that it was not even real. But in this instant, he missed the old man, and a wave of emotions that he could not quite identify hit him.
“Commander Nakatani requested this from the Shogun,” explained Lieutenant Kato. “The Shogun knows nothing, except that he died an honorable death.”
“Which is true,” said Seiki.
The lieutenant did not seem to have heard him. “Your Master was a great captain,” he said. “His deeds in battle were legendary, and the Shogun was going to promote him when...” He paused and took a deep breath. “When my father died.”
Seiki thought he should be more sympathetic but, at that moment, he could not bring himself to think about storylines.
Lieutenant Kato shook his head. “At the time, no one understood why he left, but now I think it is clear that it was because of what happened to Captain Okamoto.”
“That’s all I wanted you to know,” said the man as he turned to leave. “Light an incense for him, Seiki. I’ll give you some privacy.”
The lieutenant left without another word, and Seiki stared at the spirit tablet for a while.
“Well.” Seiki smiled sadly. “They didn’t exactly build a shrine for you. But I guess this is good enough.” He picked up and incense stick and held it to the flame of the candle, before planting it in the middle of the incense pot.
An unexpected sensation filled him, warm, perhaps a little calming, very much like a heal, but subtler.
Peace of mind gained. +1% maximum health. 90 minutes remaining.
“Peace of mind?” Seiki laughed. “I don’t think so, Master Tsujihara.” The past few weeks had been different, but not any less difficult.
“I know you told me it’s okay to be angry, but I really don’t know if it’s a good thing,” he said. “The other day I said something to Tom, like, really bad things. And I had never, ever yelled at him before. It’s like my control is slipping, and I’m turning into this ungrateful bastard.” He paused, as if afraid to say the next bit. “The thing though… the thing is that sometimes I don’t even care anymore.”
Maybe the whole world should know of the pathetic state he was in, and in many ways it probably deserved to bear some of his suffering. He never asked for any of this, and the world should be sorry for what it did to him.
He had come here to be sheltered from more hurt. But then even here, loss was real, and now the dojo was a completely abandoned, lonely place in its little corner in South City. And that made him angry. What made him even angrier was the fact that he could not bring himself to quit, since this virtual existence was all he had. Even if it all was reduced to scraps, he would still take it, because it would still be better than nothing. Then, there were these people treating him like a child, threatening to take it away if he did not behave. So, ultimately, he was perhaps angriest at himself, for letting them.
But then, sometimes, he could not help feeling that he deserved to be treated that way. “I guess I’ll apologize later.” He knew Tom would forgive him in a blink, because right now he had become nothing more than a kid throwing a tantrum, yet he had no idea how to stop doing that.
The spirit tablet remained silent, and Seiki felt like an idiot. He was even a little annoyed at the old man, maybe simply for not being real.
“You know, if you’re going to give me something for lighting a stick, I would have liked more energy rather than health,” he said, in hopes of seeing Master Tsujihara’s spirit materialize to tell him off for his blatant disrespect for the dead. “Would have really liked to keep the dojo too. Now that you had to go ahead and die, I have to resort to killing trees to get the workout I need.”
Still no word from the spirit tablet, and the smoke coming out of the incense stick rolled gracefully in the air.
“Come on, Master Tsujihara. Ghosts exist in this game.” Deep down, though, he knew that this would be another item he would eventually have to add to the long list of the things he missed.
“Your army general?”
Seiki turned to look, and he saw a young man in pure white priest attire and a dark green narrow hat peering curiously into the room. He had no name, and no level, which meant he was part of the game and not a player.
“Something like that,” said Seiki, not wanting to explain.
“This place is calming,” said the young priest, stepping into the antechamber without invitation. “I’ve lost loved ones in the war too. My whole family, actually.” Now that Seiki had studied him more closely, he could see that he was nothing more than a boy. And for a moment, he seemed genuinely sad. “Don’t you have something of his to put in front of the altar?” the young priest asked.
“In fact, I do,” said Seiki, as he remembered something. In his leather bag was Hanae’s Hairpin [Memorabilia] that he had kept all this time. He placed it carefully in front of the spirit tablet, wondering what the actual story between them had been.
Quest completed: Mani Shrine [Level 10]. 85 XP gained.
“I’m Mitsue, one of the shrine guardians,” said the young priest. “The newest shrine guardian, actually, considering I just got accepted last week.” He seemed eager for conversation. “My duty is to make sure that shrine visitors feel welcome and know what to do. So, please feel free to come and light an incense for your general whenever you like.”
To make sure he had understood correctly, Seiki concentrated on the incense pot: Light an incense for Master Tsujihara any time to gain peace of mind.
They actually wanted him to keep coming here, Seiki realized. “Looks like you can’t get rid of me after all.” He smiled as he looked at the tablet, for some reason pleased with the idea.
Now that he had introduced himself, Mitsue was marked with his name. He gazed eagerly at Seiki. “Ronin-san,” he began. There was no way to tell what class you were, but whatever the game knew, the NPCs knew. “Are you afraid of the dark?” the young priest asked.
Seiki narrowed his eyes at the uncanny question. “You’re seriously asking me this?”
Mitsue blinked. “Uh.” He paused, uncertain. “Are you?”
Seiki shook his head and chuckled grimly. “Terrified,” he finally said, not sure if he was joking or not.
The young priest seemed confused by the answer, but continued anyway. “Would you mind helping me with something?”
“I suppose why not,” said Seiki. He thought he knew where this was heading now.
Mitsue brightened. “Thank you!”
It was as Seiki had guessed.
Quest accepted: The War Archives [Level 10].
The War Archives [Level 10 Quest Information]: go with Mitsue into the War Archives. You will receive: 105 XP.
The young priest whispered, “I’ll tell you a secret. I’m really scared of dark places, and Master Hora just asked me to tidy up the scrolls in the underground library before the end of the day.” He paused worriedly. “The thing is, I’ve never been down there alone before, and I think that place is haunted!”
“Lead the way,” said Seiki. “War Archives, isn’t it?”
Mitsue seemed genuinely confused. “How did you know?” he said. “That’s spooky!”
Seiki wondered if it would turn out to be restless sp
irits of soldiers who did not get their names listed in the memorial hall, or maybe he would get some more history lesson here. If it did not take too long, perhaps he would still have a few hours of sunlight to ride east after he was done with this quest.
As they proceeded deeper into the shrine grounds, the young priest went on about his rather uninteresting duties in the shrine that seemed to involve a lot of sweeping and replacing missing incense sticks for visitors, which he tried to explain to the very last detail and which Seiki only half-listened to.
Behind the Hall of the Fallen Heroes was a smaller building, with a stone staircase that led into the ground, at the end of which was a thick wooden door. The young priest pulled a key from his chest pocket. He then spent some time fumbling around with it before pushing it open, revealing a very dark hallway.
“There’s supposed to be lamps around!” said Mitsue in frustration. Then he thought of something and produced a thick red candle and a metal box from his pocket. “These are usually for the memorial halls, so don’t tell Master Hora.”
Seiki watched in amazement as the young priest proceeded to light the candle from the flint and char cloth in the metal box.
The priest looked up at him. “Never seen someone light a candle before, ronin-san?”
“Not like this,” said Seiki.
Mitsue laughed. “Here you go. You can have it.”
You have received: Tinderbox. Use this to light a fire to keep yourself warm in the Wilderness!
Seiki had ignored such a concept existed. He had been in the Wilderness before, and the temperature had always been just perfect. He looked at the metal box in his hand. “Do I need this?” he asked.
“When you go too far away from civilization for a long time, you might find yourself fatigued, which means you hardly have energy to do anything. Sitting by a fire for ten minutes can help revitalize you for a period of time, but ultimately having food is better. So, I hope you know how to cook,” said the young priest, before thrusting the lit candle into Seiki’s hand and gesturing worriedly toward the dark entrance.
Making a note to himself to ask Ippei later about this whole fire business, Seiki put away the tinderbox and started making his way down the dark corridor, which turned out to be narrower than he thought. The candle gave off very little light and did not help much. The floor seemed to be made of smooth cut stone.
“Up ahead should be the main fire stand which should light up the entire place,” said Mitsue apprehensively from behind him. The priest seemed to be tiptoeing, and keeping a distance.
Seiki wondered why the place was so poorly kept, compared to the rest of the shrine. The floor was covered with a thick layer of dust.
Seiki stopped short. No one had been down here in years, he realized, just as the floor beneath his left foot gave way and something icy cold bit deep into his leg.
He gasped and unintentionally dropped the candle as his whole limb went numb. Whatever had bit him held fast, and Seiki figured it was made of metal.
“Careful!” said Mitsue, as he ran and grabbed the candle off the ground before it could go out. It took Seiki a second to figure out that the young priest was talking about the candle and not him.
Mitsue rushed ahead and held the candle out to something on a chest-height pedestal. A lively flame sparked up on the fire stand, lighting up the whole underground room.
It looked like a library, with rows of shelves containing scrolls and bound books, all covered in dust. With the light, Seiki could now see that his left leg was caught in what appeared to be a very large animal trap. The freezing sharp teeth had buried themselves into his upper thigh, and fresh blood was trickling onto his hakama.
He tried to pry it open, but it held tight, and he discovered that it had not been a spring that had snapped both jaws together. Each jaw was pulled in the opposite direction by a complicated pulley system of thick metal chains that went up to the ceiling and ended in hanging metal weights; one in front of him and the other far behind him.
His first thought was that his Slide would be able to break out of it. But he quickly became aware that his left leg, caught in the trap, was off the ground. And you needed two contact points to use that special move.
This was by design, Seiki now realized. Mitsue was lying.
He looked at the young priest, and Mitsue gave him a little smile. “Told you I had never been down here alone. That bit was true,” he said. “In fact, this is my first time down here ever, alone or not, and my master was right about the booby trap.”
“You’re a pretty good liar,” said Seiki. With all those talks of ghosts, and boring shrine duties, Seiki somehow never suspected this was coming.
The young priest slowly removed his hat and cast off his priestly costume, revealing long black hair in a ponytail and tight-fitting black clothes, and this was when Seiki’s eyes widened.
“You’re a girl,” he said. Somehow he never expected that either.
Mitsue laughed. “Took you long enough to notice, ronin-san,” she said, as she kicked off the priest robe and threw it into the fire stand. She then tiptoed gingerly toward him and studied the contraption that held the trap jaws together. “I suppose you could cut the weight pulling it shut,” she mused. “Like, here, where the chain seems weaker.” She pointed to the bit directly attached to the bell-shaped metal weight. “I wonder, though, if your sword could cut through metal.”
She did not seem bothered or even in the slightest worried, and Seiki understood that had been her plan all along. “And I suppose you’re hoping not?” he said slowly.
He tried pushing energy down one foot, but he could not get a Slide started. Now, he could not even feel his left leg. The metal chain that held the jaws shut was an inch thick, and Seiki doubted his Hikari would be able to damage it. Especially if he was trying to cut it from such an awkward position.
Mitsue looked at Seiki with a strange expression. “This is the secret War Archives, ronin-san, and breaking into it is a grave offense. They even put a trap here to catch robbers. I’m sure the Shogun will be very displeased when he finds out about the break in. And if we don’t give him a thief, I’m afraid Master Hora would be in trouble.” She stared directly in his eyes. “So we’re going to give the Shogun a thief, caught red-handed.”
She ran to the shelves and started sweeping the scrolls and bounded books onto the floor, and Seiki gathered this was to hide what she was actually after. In this kind of chaos, even Seiki could not tell if she had pocketed anything.
“It’s nothing personal, ronin-san,” said Mitsue, after deciding she had ransacked enough of the archives, filling the place with the smell of musty dust. “I have a greater cause to serve.”
“Aren’t you afraid I’m going to tell them about you?” Seiki asked. He could not really bring himself to be upset, since it was hardly Mitsue’s fault that they had scripted her to be a thief, or a spy.
“You have no useful information to tell,” she said. “You know nothing about me or my intentions. And you have the perfect motive for this, having recently lost your master, so they’re not going to believe a word you say.” She sighed. “But I don’t think we need to worry about that.”
She had started walking toward the exit, and Seiki knew that she definitely had something stuffed in her shirt that she had stolen from the library.
Mitsue turned around as she reached the staircase. “Once I close this door, with that fire burning, it won’t be long before you run out of air,” she said ominously. Seiki could not see her anymore, but her voice seemed genuinely sad. “We’re going to give the Shogun a dead thief, ronin-san, since dead thieves don’t talk. I’m really sorry about this.”
The door slid shut, and Seiki had to acknowledge that he was in slightly more trouble than he first thought. Mitsue had given him a hint, so they wanted him to get out of this. The trap itself, along with the chains around it, was made of very sturdy metal. Which left him only one thing to try.
/> Seiki drew his Hikari and reached for the small metal chains holding up the weight, and he found that he could only manage to connect with the very tip of his sword.
He moved his right foot forward to give him more range and went for a Focused Strike. The attack rattled the chain but did no visible damage. To use Sweeping Blade, he would need to step one foot to the side, which would put him out of range. Seiki did not know how long he had left, and he glanced around for clues. Unfortunately, the room was empty, and the closest pile of books on the floor was too far away to be reached.
This meant that he had to experiment, and this thought filled him with thrill as he knew, or at least hoped, where this was leading. This was his class quest after all, which could only mean one thing now that he was Level 10.
Seiki tried flowing his energy to the tip of his sword as he slashed the chain. Again, it rattled, but took no damage. The chain being slightly out of reach greatly weakened the cut. Seiki made another attempt, using more energy, but to no avail.
He analyzed the situation. They had trapped his left leg, thus his right was free to move. He brought his right foot forward as far as he could, pushed energy down and slashed again. It was better, and he could see a slight mark on the chain. It was still not strong enough though, and the wasted energy forced him to idly look around as he waited for it to recharge. In that instant, he wondered why he never got himself any energy potions.
The air seemed thicker now. It had started to fill with smoke, and Seiki had to chuckle. “Master Tsujihara,” he said out loud. “See, if you had only told me how to do the next ability when I asked you, this would be a lot easier.”
As soon as his energy charged to half, he tried again. With his right foot forward, the most natural position was to twist his body to the left to give his swing more momentum. The tip of his Hikari hit the chain, chipping through a tiny bit more of it. He sighed. It was still not sufficient.
