by Mamare Touno
“Well, I’m in full armor, Naotsugu!”
With an unspeakable metallic noise, Marielle and Tetora crashed into Naotsugu from either side. Naotsugu, crushed in the middle, couldn’t shove them away with his full strength, and he turned pale, looking like a guy who’d been in a car accident. Even if Guardians boasted the highest defensive abilities of all twelve classes, if they let their minds wander when they weren’t in the middle of a fight, this sort of thing could happen. Not only that, but both of the others were Clerics, and they weren’t inferior to any of the other classes in terms of equipment or physical strength.
Smirking, Li Gan murmured, “Excellent synchronization. Now, there’s a fine example of teamwork.” All Shiroe could do was smile wryly at the comment.
“What about that’s full armor, huh? You’re wearin’ your best outfit.” “How rude! Idols are always at their most adorable in front of their fans. This isn’t my best outfit; it’s my best effort!” The pair had begun to argue. Caught between them, Naotsugu looked flustered and tried to say something, but it didn’t seem to be going well. If it had been just Tetora, he could have argued fiercely, but even for him, this was a rough battle.
The thought made Shiroe laugh a little.
There were problems for which it was hard to find answers.
“Only time passed in the midst of illusions”: The world probably held questions for which that was the correct answer. However, anxiety burned coldly in Shiroe’s chest. He knew he’d thought it through logically and chosen the right answer, but even so, his feelings were still clouded.
The terror that something precious was being lost washed over his back like waves over a shore. He held his breath, forcing strength into his emotions. If he didn’t do that, it felt as though his fists and knees would start trembling.
It was likely that this raid would change the destinies of many Adventurers and People of the Earth. The idea was right in front of him, not as a premonition, but as a realistic possibility. Under these tense circumstances, Shiroe hadn’t been able to find sufficient options. He hadn’t prepared enough. This wasn’t his field of expertise. He might be wrong. He might not be able to make up for that. The premonition of failure clung to his back, trying to submerge his spirit in cold, pitch-black water. Intentionally suppressing that feeling put a significant strain on him.
“Shiroecchi. It looks like we’re all ready.”
“Okay, Captain.”
Glancing up at Nyanta’s words, Shiroe stretched and looked around the square.
A full raid was assembled there. Twenty-four people, all in expedition equipment.
Shiroe’s friends: Naotsugu, Akatsuki, Nyanta, and Tetora. His guild’s younger members: Minori, Touya, Rundelhaus, and Isuzu.
From the Crescent Moon League: Marielle and Henrietta, Shouryuu and Hien, plus Serara.
From the West Wind Brigade: Soujirou and Nazuna, with Isami the Samurai, Kurinon, and Olive.
From D.D.D., participating at their insistence: Riezé, Richou, Yuzuko, and Koen. Then there was Kushiyatama, a high-level “ranker” Healer with ties to D.D.D.
With the addition of Shiroe and Li Gan, that made twenty-five members. It was a small unit.
In the end, Shiroe hadn’t been able to muster a group that consisted entirely of free hands in the truest sense of the word. His own guild, Log Horizon. The Crescent Moon League and the West Wind Brigade, with whom he had longstanding relationships. D.D.D. (or rather, Riezé, its unit leader), who’d offered to help. That was all there was to this capture unit.
He thought saying he was “bad at relying on others” was a kind way to put it. He couldn’t help but despair, wondering whether his ability to build human relationships might be completely hopeless.
Shiroe had thought he’d foreseen all sorts of things and taken appropriate steps, but it still wasn’t enough. Reality is always merciless, isn’t it? he thought, and his shoulders slumped. Even so, it probably wasn’t all bad. Isaac and Calasin had supported Maihama. Even if it had all been according to some unknown entity’s plan.
However, the monsters wouldn’t wait. Geniuses were too much for Shiroe to handle. He was just an ordinary person. Still, even now, the sun was traveling across the sky, and night, when the Eternal Moths would take flight, was bearing down on them.
“We will watch to see what sort of decision the Adventurers hand down.”
Nodding to Kinjo, who had come out to see them off, he exchanged glances with the Round Table Council guild masters, who had all assembled behind Kinjo. When he spotted Ains, who looked highly concerned, a small, wry smile found its way onto his face. Shiroe didn’t hate the guild master; it was likely that they were trying to reach the same place. The man had thoroughly gotten off on the wrong foot, that was all.
For that very reason, with the idea that even feigned confidence was better than nothing, he raised his voice and announced their departure.
“Our destination is the raid zone Fortress of the Call, in the depths of the Shibuya dungeon. We will destroy its antenna, stop the Eternal Moths’ numbers from growing, and wipe them out.”
Nine thirty-two.
Shiroe and the rest of the Fortress of the Call capture unit left Akiba. They were bound for the player town of Shibuya.
With this, Shiroe had ended up taking a seat at a new table. But this time, the stakes of the gamble were high. And what’s more, even he didn’t know what “victory” would look like this time around.
4
“It’s quiet, isn’t it?”
“Of course it’s not. This is a raid zone. They’re drawing a bead on us from somewhere.”
When they reached Shibuya, the town was eerily silent. As she listened to Kushiyatama—the woman who’d drilled raid expertise into her right after she’d made it into D.D.D., before she’d known right from left—Riezé nodded.
The cluster of ruins eroded by greenery was the same as in Akiba, but since this town had originally been a commercial mecca, it was rather more colorful. “Living” ancient buildings showed off exteriors made splendid with a glass-like material known as Glastal. However, although the buildings’ appearance suggested otherwise, they couldn’t sense any people.
The raid capture team passed Mobile Armor that had run out of mana; it was the sort that the Kunie clan’s patrolling guards wore.
The scales of those Eternal Moths stole a certain type of mana. The selection standards weren’t clear, but it was enough to wear down even the defense and magic resistance of Mobile Armor, which boasted unrivaled power. The comatose Kunie clan members had already been rescued, but the armor was heavy, and it had been left behind.
When it came to raids, raid enemies—which boasted more than ten times the HP of Party-rank monsters—tended to be seen as the only threat, but this wasn’t the case. With a full twenty-four-member raid, considered in simple terms, the Adventurers had more than twenty times their regular combat power, and teamwork brought it up to fifty times more. The real threat lay in the enemy’s teamwork and reinforcements: In other words, the zone’s very terrain turned against the Adventurers. As befitted a player town, Shibuya’s blocks were carved up like a mosaic, and they intersected in three dimensions. Now that it was a combat area, it had become a battlefield with poor visibility that was crowded with places to take cover.
Brushing hair back from her cheek with gloved fingertips, Riezé took out a pocket watch.
“Moonrise is in…six hours.”
This area was a city that had been established as the fifth player town in Elder Tales. Based on reviews of the previous four towns—Akiba, Minami, Susukino, and Nakasu—it had been put together differently than the rest.
The problem with the preexisting towns had been that crowds tended to accumulate at the cities’ core functions—in other words, at the guild center, the bank, the Temple, the market, and the intercity transport gates. These were important facilities that game players had to use on a daily basis. On top of that, even if the cities had been p
layer towns, in the days of the game, everything except those facilities had been mere background. That was why they had become sources of congestion.
Taking this issue into consideration, Shibuya had been created as a player town that had no guild center, bank, or market. Instead, it was equipped with many intercity transport gates and had been designed to fulfill its urban functions by being constantly connected to the other four cities.
At present, when the transport gates had fallen silent and it was swarming with Eternal Moths, the town was practically deserted.
“Hey, there they are!”
“Eight from up ahead on the right! Humanoid, Ogre subspecies.”
“Assassinate!”
“Izuna Cutter!”
“Flare Arrow!”
The battle had begun.
Even as she fired highly inductive Serpent Bolts, Riezé studied the situation around her. For D.D.D., the most important issue in early information gathering on raids was understanding the structure of the area and the composition of the enemy. However, that was because all the members had a sufficient understanding of one another’s abilities from the teamwork training they’d done in advance. The members in this unit had been pulled together from many different places, and for them, the biggest issue was learning about their companions’ abilities and constructing team plays. Fortunately, the monsters’ abilities weren’t high at all, so Riezé was able to spare some of her attention for information gathering while continuing to fight.
This was true of Kushiyatama, who’d been playing longer than Riezé, and of the veteran West Wind Brigade members as well. Ingrained actions might have been the term for it. They knew what was important during raids without having anyone put it into words.
Strangely, the same thing appeared to be true of Log Horizon’s younger members.
The golden-haired youth Rundelhaus; the middle guard Bard Isuzu; Minori in her miko outfit; her little brother, Touya the Samurai; and the rearguard support Druid Serara. Those five were a little under level 60. Considering that most of the members of this exploration team were level 90 and above, they were relatively low-level players who shouldn’t have been here.
Despite that, they’d proven to have extremely high resistance to the Eternal Moths’ MP-draining attacks. Even high-level Adventurers couldn’t avoid losing MP to the moths’ scale attacks, but these players were able to nearly negate them. It wasn’t clear why this was so, but notice had been taken, and they’d been added to the invasion team. Furthermore, for the sake of Akiba’s defense, they’d been hesitant to assign too much combat power to the assault unit. Including Riezé, only four members of D.D.D. had been loaned to this raid, and they had pushed very hard to be allowed to go.
As a result, she hadn’t been hoping for much from the five midlevel players as regular raid members, but they were moving far better than she’d expected. They looked sharp.
Of course, they had a few things in their favor: Even if their personal levels were around 60, the level of the raid team that was buffing them was over 90. In other words, they were getting support from ultra-high-level ability-boosting skills.
Not only that, but in a full raid, they could get varied support from more than ten players. This meant that support itself was multilayered, and their current practical combat abilities were probably around level 70. If a level-90 team received similar support, they’d see an increase of only two or three levels. When thinking about it that way, it was a definite advantage.
Then there was the issue of aggro. Even if they were getting support, their abilities seemed to be only about level 70 as a result. In other words, even if they attacked and recovered with all their might, they’d never match the aggro that the Guardian Naotsugu generated in his current role as the full raid’s main tank. Not having to worry about accumulating excessive aggro meant the enemy wouldn’t go after them.
In short, the midlevel group was in an environment where they were getting sufficient support from the people around them and were able to freely exercise their abilities beyond their normal limits.
However, even without those advantages, they moved well.
As someone who commanded the training unit at D.D.D., the leading ultralarge guild on the Yamato server, Riezé could tell. The way they positioned themselves in the front and rear. The way they launched and fielded attacks from angles that wouldn’t block the vanguard. The order and composition of the special skills they chose. The way they relied on the surrounding members and stayed conscious of overall attacks, even though they weren’t taking attacks from monsters personally… And the way they conveyed messages out loud. Even at level 90—no, regardless of level: In the area of player skills, from the way these five moved, you’d never have thought they were beginners.
She’d been asked, via Akatsuki, to “look after the newbies” in advance, and as someone from a training unit, she’d accepted the request as a matter of course. However, their skills seemed to be more than she’d imagined. Actually, they were at a pretty absurd level. She would have liked to scout them for D.D.D.
“I’m sending some your way.”
“Eat ’em up, Riezé.”
The voices seemed too cheerful for the situation. They belonged to Soujirou and Nazuna of the West Wind Brigade. Those two had been members of the Debauchery Tea Party once, and in a way, they were legendary. They were acting as the sub-tank and second healer for the invasion unit’s second party. If the first party’s role was to hold off the brunt of the enemy forces, their team’s job was to provide mobile defense, to catch and stall the monsters that slipped past that first party.
These two were intentionally letting monsters pass them.
This action wasn’t a standard move. It was a message: Run through the movements you’ll need for melee fighting. Polish the third and fourth parties’ teamwork. And most of all, Help the midlevel group grow.
As proof, the attacks unleashed from Soujirou’s Dim Crossing were pasted with the icon that signaled a move speed decrease for the Ogres.
“Four Ogres have broken through the vanguard!”
The girl Minori looked back at Riezé, giving a report. Of course, Riezé had been able to see them as well. Technically, the girl could have left the action undone. She hadn’t, though. She’d done it to send a message: Requesting orders. Minori had an outstanding eye for tactics. Or rather, she was sensitive to the thoughts of the people around her. She was trying with all her might to sense what they wanted to do. As she did so, she looked like a small, very wary animal.
“Richou, switch to backup! Minori, lead the unit and attack with everything you have!”
The group of five sprang forward. As she watched them, Riezé’s eyes narrowed in a smile. It was a good use of a unit.
On the other hand, the commander had been a disappointment.
There were many elements that determined whether a raid succeeded or failed, but Riezé thought that one of the most important was its commander. This was particularly true of this capture unit, which was full of talent.
Naotsugu, the main tank, was powerfully maintaining the front line with stable taunt work. Soujirou and Nazuna, the pillars of the mobile attacks, were magnificent as well. Akatsuki and Nyanta, the attackers, had high processing abilities. In terms of individual skill, Riezé thought they were at a level where they could conquer even a server event.
For that very reason, there seemed to be nothing particularly noteworthy about the overall tactical decisions; they were mediocre, and not very decisive. Calling them “careful” sounded good, but they lacked boldness.
“What’s this, what’s up? You’re looking glum.”
Nazuna, who’d left the front line to the first party and dropped back, spoke to Riezé amicably. Riezé hesitated just a little, then went ahead and told her what she thought.
“Timid.”
“What is?”
Nazuna took a swig out of a gourd-shaped canteen before asking her question lackadaisically.
“—Milord acknowledges the Debauchery Tea Party, and Shiroe was its famed counselor. I’d hoped to see him directing combat, but he isn’t as impressive as I’d imagined.”
“Ah-ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. Well, maybe not. Shiroe’s a wimp, after all.”
“He… He is?”
Nazuna’s words had been unexpected, and Riezé looked up.
Nazuna must have spent a long time fighting alongside him in the Debauchery Tea Party, but she didn’t seem to have taken offense at Riezé’s evaluation; she was smiling her usual, teasing smile and puffing out her chest.
“Yep, that’s right. He’s a wimp. He’s more a wimpy counselor than a famed counselor.”
Riezé felt a pain in her chest.
She wanted to argue with what Nazuna was saying, and that was when she noticed: The hopes she’d been trying to force onto Shiroe were her own affair. As if he would resolve all the things she couldn’t do anything about, such as the guild’s current administrative problems and her unease at Krusty’s absence. Like a gust of cool wind. Riezé had been hoping for that sort of omnipotence from Shiroe. She hadn’t wanted him to save her personally; she didn’t think she’d had hopes that naïve. However, she realized that she wanted him to show her the sort of talent that would be capable of those things. She finally realized that she had asked to join this capture unit because of that wish.
“‘If it was someone Milord acknowledged, then…’ I’ve been acting like a spoiled child, haven’t I?”
Although, reaching that conclusion didn’t mean she could shake off her disappointment and self-loathing.
Riezé’s own hands were small, and there wasn’t much she could do.
Still, even so, she had to make sure this raid succeeded. If Shiroe’s commands were lackluster, then she’d have to step out in front. Loading the attack with the pain and irritation she felt, Riezé sent a Freezing Liner at the cluster of enemies that had appeared up ahead.
5
After they’d entered Fortress of the Call, the monster attacks grew more ferocious.
