by Nikita Thorn
“Now that was a complete success.” Takeru then turned to grin at Seiki. “Good play by you, Eisuke’s friend.”
“Sorry we couldn’t join your group,” said Aina apologetically. “We had to be in our clan group right now to use the group Sense.”
Seiki had no idea what that meant, but was in no mind to ask.
“And I’m sorry you had to take the lockout penalty, too,” Aina added with a sigh.
As if cued, three official black pigeons appeared in the sky, fluttering down noisily beside them. Seiki held out his hand and the bird dropped itself in the middle of his palm, cocking its head slightly.
The message was very clear:
Violence against members of the Shinshioka Army or its volunteers is prohibited in the West Plains. Since you have acted in retaliation to another player’s attack, the Shogun Court has deemed it an act of self-defense, and the penalty has been reduced from the deduction of 16 Honor Points to 8 Honor Points. No Combat Valor has been deducted in this case. However, for having killed another player, you have acted Out of Line and may not receive a War Order from a Shinshioka officer for the next 7 days.
Seiki made a sour face. The loss of Honor Points was not terrible, since he only had to maintain it above 500. The seven-day lockout, on the other hand, did hurt, especially since he had the next war events planned with Ippei.
Takeru let out an annoyed grunt as he read his message. “At this rate, the Shogun’s gonna take away my unit pretty soon.”
“Just stop killing Rogami out the West Gate, for heaven’s sake,” said Aina. “Do it in the Wilderness so you’ll at least get us some Clan Honors that way.”
The kitsune glanced up to the sky. “Couldn’t help it. It was too good an opportunity. Even Kat-chan agreed, although she chickened out and logged out as soon as she fired the shot.”
Aina gave her clan mate a dark look. “If Seiki hadn’t popped up out of nowhere, Rieko would have killed me. And, look, now he’s on lockout, too. Your fault.”
“It was actually worth it,” said Seiki. It was not a lie.
“Thank you,” said Takeru, before turning to his clan mate. “And, come on, we haven’t got Rieko in a while. That felt great.”
“I guess it kinda did,” Aina admitted, before glimpsing around. “Didn’t know there’s a ronin instance here.”
“Eisuke sure loves his ronins,” said Takeru unconsciously as he peered at the empty ledge. “Unfortunately all my guys are dead.”
Aina shook her head. “Yeah, because you just had to go rile the Rogami.”
The kitsune laughed. “Like I said, I couldn’t pass up on such a chance. They were all crammed together, so I asked Kat-chan to supercharge her exploding arrows, and then I Nine-tailed Flurried them.” He wiped away an imaginary tear from his eye. “You should have seen what happened to Rieko’s unit.”
Aina sighed. “I can’t believe Kat-chan actually went along with your stupid plan. Now we’re all on lockout. Akihisa won’t be happy.”
Takeru shrugged again. “It’s going to be that damn festival for the whole week anyway, and there’s probably going to be too many event quests to do. No one’s gonna be doing War.”
“Akihisa wants everyone to do the public run to get up-to-date with the frontlines.”
Takeru did not respond to her statement. “Well, better see what we’ve got.” He grinned as he bent down to loot the dead Rogami ryoushi. “Cheap guy.” He juggled a small pile of clinking items in his palm. “Only twelve gold? Nice potions, though.”
The kitsune tossed one to Seiki. The bottle was similar to a normal health potion, but had a purple cloth cap and was labeled Sensui Oil: restores 7,000 HP and 5,000 Energy, and increases both health and energy regeneration by 10% for the next 3 minutes. Overheals by more than 100% may produce adverse effects.
“That’s the best of the lot,” said Takeru. “You deserve it.”
Seiki inspected the ceramic bottle in his hand. Considering he did not have two thousand health points at his level, he guessed it would be a while before it was usable. “How much is this worth?”
“It’s a decently rare drop from those water dragon things. Not craftable,” said Takeru. “So maybe a hundred gold, at least. Hundred-fifty? Not bad for one kill, right?”
Aina sighed.
“What?” said Takeru, grinning. “To the victor goes the spoils,” he said. “Going by the Rogami code. Now let’s see what this ghost chick gives us. Hopefully she’s just extorted a fresh named blade off someone.”
Aina sighed again, perhaps at her clan mate’s unabashed enthusiasm.
“They do that a lot?” Seiki started to suspect that his case had not been so special after all.
“They’ve always been bastards. But ever since Zengoro decided he’s only going to promote clan members who bring him a sheathed sword, they started going after lucky noobs. Word is Zengoro’s got his hands on this rare dagger that’s not even on the Society’s records and he’s looking for its pair, a matching sword.” The kitsune shrugged again. “So he’s pulling every sheathed weapon he can, trying to hit the jackpot.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t work that way,” said Aina. “Paired weapons come from quests.”
Takeru raised his brow. “Yeah? According to who?”
“The Society.”
Takeru’s mind was apparently already on something else as he trotted over to loot the orb of smoke that obake left behind upon death. “Oh, there, nice gold, Rieko-chan,” said the kitsune in delight. “Two hundred-ish. Plus, a ridiculous amount of blood orbs. Now that’s freaky. And a… sash, socks, yukata, sandals. Oh, only +5 defense? Did she just… undress someone? Anyway, want something from this lot, uh…” He finally paid attention to the player tag. “Seiki?”
Without waiting for an answer, the young man dropped the pile of items on the ground. “Or take half the gold.”
Seiki shook his head. “Post paper, maybe?” he said on a second thought.
Aina laughed as she took a few out of her own pocket. “Here. And charcoal. I remember now. Didn’t we offer you and your friend a spot in our clan after the White Crane Hall?”
“Oh, right,” said Takeru, looking up in excitement. “You’ve got a kitsune friend, too, don’t you? What’s her name now? Yukimi? Nah, that’s the moon fox thing, but same aesthetics… Oh, wait, what’s this?”
He was squatting on the ground, randomly stirring the pile of looted items as if fishing for something valuable. A piece of paper now dangled between his fingers. After a quick curious look at its content, Takeru let out a loud whistle. “Incriminating evidence right here, Ai-chan,” he announced in excitement.
He handed the piece of paper to Aina, who read it and frowned, before handing it to Seiki.
It was post paper, with a very short message.
Mumei [Level 4] - Rieko: (1 hour 4 minutes ago) The white crane flies west, out on mighty Renkan Range, searching high and low.
Unlike other Mumei messages Seiki had seen, which were anonymous, this letter was signed with a single ‘fu’ character.
“Told you they were after the White Cranes,” said Takeru. “So we did a good thing, since we’re friends with them again. Technically we’re defending allies, so Akihisa can’t be mad about that.”
“What good are we going to be able to do now when all our units are dead,” said Aina.
One of her unit members perked up. “We’re still here, Lieutenant,” she said brightly.
Aina gave her subordinate a brief smile. “I know, Miri. But Rapid Shots with only six arrows from two of you won’t be that useful.”
“We’ll try our best, Lieutenant!” said the other remaining ryoushi.
“Thanks,” Aina said tiredly. “Dismissed.”
Their overeagerness was rather familiar, and Seiki found himself quite amused. It would take forty-five minutes for the rest of his villagers to start resurrecting, and he was rather looking forward to it, so he co
uld try out different formations in the training area.
Takeru gathered up the looted items from the ground. “Sure you don’t want anything, Seiki? These orbs will sell for a bit.”
Seiki had something else on his mind. “These Mumei messages… who’s sending them?”
“Various people,” Aina said.
“Like?”
“Ichikeya, maybe,” said Aina.
“You mean… ‘fu’ as in Fuyu?”
“Or someone trying to pretend to be Ichikeya,” said Aina.
“Or you can try sending a few yourself,” Takeru said. “And see if you can lure people out for easy kills.”
The Fuoka Army members did not seem bothered, and Seiki honestly could not comprehend why they were not at all concerned with what could potentially be a complicated web of lies that was driving all the conflicts in the game. “Aren’t you curious who’s behind all this?”
Aina studied him for a moment, before she realized what he meant, and one corner of her mouth quirked up. “Maybe we don’t want to know,” she said. “If you’re an East Gate clan, you always want an excuse for PVP. Like Takeru over here. All he wants to do is kill the Rogami.”
“Oh, they started it,” said the kitsune. “With that sneak attack in Fuoka.”
Aina laughed when she saw that Seiki was not entirely satisfied with that answer. “Or join the Society, if you’re trying to figure all this out. They have recruitment tests every other weekend, where they look for people with… curious minds.”
Seiki started to understand a little more about why Ippei had said there was more than one way to play the game, and he guessed a player’s understanding of what the game was about varied according to how they chose to play it.
At the heart of it, though, lay this mysterious message-forwarding service called Mumei.
“So, Mumei is really a player?”
He had asked his friends this question before, and they all claimed that it was, or at least a shared character used between a group of real players—which explained their high up time. Since Mumei knew all the original senders of all the messages they forwarded, they most likely saw everything and knew everything.
Aina, staring out into the darkness with a wistful expression on her face, ignored his question as if she had not heard it. Seiki opened his mouth to ask again, when he remarked that she was labeled ‘Shinshioka Soldier’.
Turning to look at Takeru beside her, Seiki saw that the kitsune was now simply called ‘Shinshioka Volunteer’.
It took Seiki a few seconds to finally realize what was happening. As his mind raced to grasp the full implications of this unexplained phasing, his hands already reached for his Hikari.
As expected, a black arrow shot through the air, for the third time, and now Seiki finally knew what it was. Choosing not to Parry or Upslash, Seiki slid out of the way. The arrow exploded as it hit the ground, but Seiki was out of range of the black acid smoke this time.
He turned towards the edge of the woods, not surprised at all to see a tall swordsman in white slowly emerge from the darkness.
Shousei, the mysterious swordsman who had indirectly taught him Parry and Vertical Spike, stood observing him from the tree line, his jaws clenched, his eyes narrowed with suspicion. In his hand was a black bow, and hanging from his waist was his sheathed long sword, along with a dagger, which Seiki somehow noticed was matching.
“You will tell me where that metal handle is,” said Shousei.
The clans had their own agendas. Perhaps even Sasu and Mumei had their own agendas. For some reason, Seiki kept forgetting that NPCs also had their own agendas. Having reached Level 15, Seiki knew what this was going to be about, although he was not quite sure if it was good or bad timing.
Seiki said, “I guess I should have paid more attention, but I honestly have no idea what metal handle you’re talking about.” He was slightly entertained by that fact. “If you don’t mind, I’m just going to step back into the instance for a moment for a breather, then I’ll come out for your ability quest.”
Shousei’s face contorted. “Wrong answer, boy.” He bent down and lifted something heavy from the ground, which was the size of a man and struggled wildly as he was pulled up by his collar.
It was Genta, gagged, bound hand and feet with thick ropes. His eyes were wide with terror, his defiant cries muffled by the cloth in his mouth. The front of his shirt was drenched with blood, suggesting that he had tried fighting the swordsman earlier.
“Drop your weapon, Seiki,” said Shousei. “Or he dies.”
CHAPTER 16
Seiki froze at the sight.
He knew death was only temporary for his troops, both in War Games and out in the open wilderness beyond the West Gate, but this encounter was neither. Given the appearance of this particular swordsman Shousei, it was most likely a personal instance, just like the underground cave that had been the final resting place of Master Tsujihara.
As all the possibilities clashed within his mind, his thoughts seemed to lead to the same disturbing conclusion. Like the old swordsmaster, his unit members were his personal NPCs, with unique individual names. And Seiki suddenly felt sick at the notion that perhaps this was why it took only one War Token to recruit a new troop member.
Shousei tightened his grip on Genta’s collar. “I presume common soldiers are replaceable after all,” he said, his dagger letting out a clear ring as it left its sheath. “See how many of them I’ll have to kill before you start talking.” He raised the dagger towards Genta’s throat. “Starting with this one.”
“Wait.” Seiki released his grip on his Hikari.
The sword hit the grass with a soft thud, and the sound stayed the man’s hand. Still pressing his dagger against Genta’s neck, Shousei slowly turned back toward him. “Your dagger, too,” he said. “Then back away.”
Keeping his eyes fixed on the swordsman, Seiki unequipped his Kohagane and dropped it in front of him, feeling a little uneasy as both blades left his hand. Genta’s life was at half, but although he was still bleeding, he did not seem to be rapidly losing health, which meant there was still a bit of time to think.
“Back away,” said Shousei. Seiki took nine steps backward, before the man finally nodded. “That’s good enough. Now remove your pouches and toss them over here.”
Seiki had nothing useful in his inventory at the moment, but Shousei was thorough. Still gauging the distance between him and Genta, Seiki unequipped his bags and added them to the pile of blades. A Slide, he thought, might be enough to cover the distance. Then, even without a weapon, a bare-handed Focused Strike might be enough to separate the man from his hostage.
“You really think you can do that faster than I can slit this man’s throat?” said Shousei as if reading his mind.
Perhaps whatever the game knew, NPCs knew, and the swordsman was right. Seiki glanced at his Hikari on the ground. Without weapons, there were very limited things he could do. Even if he managed to separate Genta from Shousei, he would not be able to keep the aggressor away.
Shousei studied him for a moment. “And that armguard.”
Seiki’s breath caught. The secret inventory slot on Renshiro’s arm guard held a tiny potion bottle that filled both health and energy, which he kept for emergencies so that he would never be caught without resources in a Wilderness spirit shrine again. There was no way the swordsman could have known about it.
“The armguard.” Shousei’s voice hardened. “Remove it.”
The blade pressed against Genta’s neck started to cut into his skin, and Seiki quickly unstrapped the armguard and threw it into the pile.
“Good,” said Shousei, before producing a small item from his chest pocket and tossing it over the short distance.
Seiki caught it. It was a ceramic potion bottle with a black cork cap, ice cold to the touch. The potion bore a simple label: Bottle of Liquid [Instance Item].
“Drink,” said Shousei.
&nb
sp; A knot formed in Seiki’s stomach. Shousei had left him a bottle of potion before, a long time ago, before unleashing a few low-level monsters for him to fight. That time it had been a real health potion. This time, it was without a doubt something much more sinister.
Genta was struggling wildly, shaking his head, shouting intelligibly through his gag.
“Don’t make me lose my patience, boy,” Shousei warned him. “Drink.”
Genta looked up at Seiki, grim determination in his eyes. Without warning, he yanked himself free from the swordsman’s grip and leaned forward toward the bared dagger, intent on letting the blade cut his neck.
“Don’t you dare, Genta,” Seiki said. “Your life’s mine. Don’t you remember what I’ve said to you before?”
Genta froze at that, and Shousei took this chance to grab him by the hair. “Commendable loyalty, but your death isn’t going to help this conversation.” The man shifted his grip on the dagger as he prepared to inflict non-lethal injuries. “Unfortunately, your unit chief might need some motivation.”
“Don’t,” cried Seiki. Flicking off the cap, he lifted the bottle to drink. It only held a tiny drop of liquid, terribly sour, and he winced as it left a horrid bitter aftertaste.
You are poisoned with mamushi poison! Your energy no longer recharges.
It was much worse than he had expected. Like with the black acidic smoke from the arrows earlier, his energy dropped to zero. Dizziness followed in a chilling wave, and his vision blurred the forest around him into meaningless jumbles. Staggering, Seiki gulped down air and raised one arm to balance himself.
In front of him, Shousei had spoken once more, his voice sounding as if coming from underwater. “Very well. Now we can talk.”
The figure of the swordsman in front of him was a white shape against a dark background, and Seiki had to blink to bring him into focus. A block of ice had formed in the middle of his chest, and was slowly extending its clutch outward, firmer than an obake’s Soul Freeze, and much more methodical. Seiki had never paid real attention to how energy worked or where it flowed from, but now he felt it acutely, marked by the cold that had formed around his lungs, restricting his ability to breathe. He reached for energy, but it was frozen solid, trapped deep within.
