Click.
Kirito closed the door to his room, and joined his wife and daughter in bed.
Yui actually had her own room, but more often than not, she ended up sleeping with Kirito and Asuna. Tonight was shaping up to be the same.
"What's tonight's story?"
"Mama is going to tell the story of the bamboo cutter! But... what's bamboo, Papa?"
Kirito chuckled, pulling Yui onto his lap and laying a kiss on the top of her head.
"It's a type of plant. I will show you it someday."
"Hm!"
Yui hummed contentedly and snuggled deeper into Kirito's embrace.
Asuna smiled at the peaceful scene, so entirely different from the cold distance between family members in her household, and started running her fingers through Yui's hair.
"Hmm... Papa, who was that uncle earlier?"
"Hm? Ah, that was Heathcliff. Guild leader of the Knights of the Blood Oath, another frontline guild like us. I think I mentioned him to you before."
"Huh."
Yui made a noncommittal noise, a Asuna and Kirjto exchanged glances before the fencer gently turned her daughter's head towards her.
"What's wrong, sweetie?"
Yui frowned cutely, searching for the right words.
"That uncle felt... very cold. He was scary."
It was the two Reavers' turn to furrow their brows. Sure, Heathcliff wasn't the most friendly person around. But to call him scary just from a few glances? Yui and the KoB player hadn't spent more than 30 seconds in the same room.
Asuna raised an eyebrow, and Kirito inclined his head before lifting Yui by the waist and then scooting his butt down, so he was now laying in bed with her on top of his chest.
"Well, Heathcliff can be a little scary, but he is a good person. He fights alongside us. Now, how about Mama tells that story and then we say goodnight? We have a full day tomorrow."
"Hm! Story time! C'mon, Mama!"
Asuna giggled, pushing any thoughts of Heathcliff out of her mind, and laid down with her family.
"Okay, okay. It starts like this..."
-------------------------
It was only when they broke through to the 68th floor that Drifter understood why Heathcliff had wanted to poach Liz.
There were rare materials everywhere.
And not just rewards from quests or collectibles. The mobs themselves were the biggest treasure trove.
The main theme of this floor was glaringly obvious from the get-go: metal.
The entire floor was split into two even halves. The southern portion, where the players first emerged, was a field of silver floors stretching as far as the eye could see - and by silver, Drifter didn't mean just the color.
Trees of pure steel with bronze leaves grew in sparse groves, their branches ringing like countless wind chimes whenever a breeze blew by.
The northern half was diametrically opposite in appearance. Gone was the rust colored - and covered - grass. In its place was a desolate plain of black steel ground, with rivers of molten iron flowing through it like veins.
Massive thermal vents emitted a constant stream of smoke, clouding the sky over that half of the floor such that they could even see the bottom of the 69th floor above.
And the mobs - well, suffice to say they were perfectly adapted to whichever half of the 68th floor they lived on.
On the prettier, cleaner south half, herds of Bloomcutters roamed. Their stag-like bodies of polished silver with antlers of gold were both solid and ethereal, and Drifter thanked the gods they were neutral mobs - only attacking if attacked first. Otherwise, watching a group of 20 Bloomcutters charge towards you would make even a frontliner afraid.
Still on that half of the floor, the humanoid Chrome Petalids were a headache, as all ambush-type mobs were, while the giant ent-like Hardened Dryads wandered unopposed.
As for the north half of the floor, it had equally diverse enemies inhabiting it.
Crucible Hearts launched handfuls of molten metal at anyone who got close. The Iron Apiarch spawned endless Forge Bees to defend its territory. And last but not least, Steel Fin Tunas swam through the molten metal rivers, jumping out to attack players, or just splashing them with melting iron.
The one saving grace was that all mobs on that half of the 68th floor was stationary other than the Steel Fin Tunas. As long as the players didn't intrude upon their aggro range, they left them alone.
But even Drifter had to admit that, for all the mobs on this floor were exceptionally deadly and exceedingly painful, the loot made it all worth it.
Liz had nearly passed out she got her hands on Silver Hooves and Gold Antlers from the Bloomcutters and Titanium Petals and Ironwood Cores from the Chrome Petalids and Hardened Dryads.
She did pass out the first time Drifter delivered Magma Hearts, Piercing Stingers and the aptly named Steel Fins to her.
The blacksmith didn't leave her Forge for three days straight, and Vallerk was forces to take her meals to her, otherwise she would have gone hungry the entire time, that's how obsessed she was with her new toys.
It got to the point that Drifter had to put his foot down and prohibit Liz from spending more than 12 hours a day in her forge - and even to get there the negotiations had been tough.
Not to say that Liz's newest obsession wasn't without reason. Drifter may not be an expert, but he was still an experienced player, and he could see all the materials that dropped on the 68th floor were top-tier.
He also knew there was no such thing as redundant in SAO. If there was an entire floor pretty much dedicated to upgrading the players' equipment, it meant there would be a need for them.
"The 75th floor. The 70th first, obviously, but the 75th will be the real deal."
Drifter took a sip of his drink while balancing on the back two feet of his chair. Agil, Wolv, Griselda, Orlando, Shivata, and Liten all nodded from their seats, each nursing their own - very - alcoholic beverage.
Those gatherings had long since become tradition for the of age frontliners - particularly those Drifter was close with.
Sometimes they were held once a week, or twice a month depending on how busy the Assault Team was. The participants also varied greatly, from just the spearmaster and those present today, to sometimes over three dozen people.
But tonight, Drifter had called just some of his closest associates. The rest of the Legend Braves and Fuurinkazan had also been invited, as had Lind, but they were all occupied or simply begged off to rest.
As it inevitably happened whenever frontliners gathered, the topic turned to their latest challenge. It couldn't be helped - it wasn't like they had much else going on in their lives.
What was unusual was that Drifter was the one to bring it up first. Usually he was content to just listen and get buzzed until someone dragged him into it.
"You've heard something, Drifter?"
Shivata put down his tankard of mead, his gaze sharpening and nearly cutting through his drunk status.
The spearmaster waved a hand in a 'so-so' gesture.
"Mostly just a gut feeling."
"Those saved our asses a couple times before."
Wolv raised a valid point. The frontliners had all learned to listen to their gut. It usually meant their subconscious had noticed something but they couldn't quite pinpoint what.
Their gut was usually right. Especially Drifter's. It had saved their lives in more than one occasion.
"We were overdue for another mat rich floor. The last was what? The 48th?"
"49th. The 48th was that annoying-as-all-hell tempest canyon floor."
Orlando snorted, draining his mug in one large gulp and calling the waiter for another.
"Ah, yes, how could I forget the hurricanes."
The others chuckled. That had been a fun floor. The frontliners hated fun. It usually meant gimmicks none of them were in the mood to put up with.
"Yeah, well, Liz is having a good time at least. Even if she looked like a zombie the couple times Vallerk managed to pry her off her anvil."
Being the oldest person in Reaver's Requiem, Agil couldn't help the look of fond exasperation that crossed his face when he thought of the pink-hakred blacksmith. Pretty much everyone in the guild bar Wolv and Griselda, who were closer to him in age, were considered his little siblings.
"But anyway... 70th or 75th, Drifter?"
Loten already knew the answer even as she asked the question. Drifter's snarl showed he did too.
"Another sure-death floor awaits us. Liz will have the entire Assault Team outfitted by then."
There were grunts and hums of acknowledgement from around the table. None of them found Drifter's sudden fierceness to be out of place.
Sure-death floors. There were only 4 of them in the entire game, and they had already overcome two. The 25th claimed 78 lives. The 50th another 7.
How many would the 75th floor take?
Bang!
Knocking back his drink, Drifter slammed his mug onto the table and ordered another.
"We will do whatever it takes and come out the other side, like always. Now... let's get fuckin' drunk!"
"Hear, hear!"
The spearmaster looked forward to the day they could do this in the outside world. The hangover would be legendary, but it would be worth it.
As long as everyone on this table was there.
---------------------
The mood was tense when the Assault Team stepped onto the 70th floor for the first time. Round floors were no joke, especially ones this high up.
At a first glance, the floors appearance was pretty ordinary. Some of it was flat, some of it was riased or lowered, and rocks of all sizes and shapes sprouted here and there.
The one thing of notice was that all of it was white. Not from snow either, but some kind of mineral, maybe salt. Drifter felt it crunching under his feet when he walked.
Pausing, he looked down and dug one of his armored toes into the ground. The top layer gave way, and revealed the blood-red soil underneath.
Well, if that wasn't ominous, Drifter didn't know what was.
"Hey, boss. Take a look at this."
The spearmaster raised his head, and saw Wolv standing next to a shoulder-high boulder, prodding it with a cautious finger.
"What's it?"
"This ain't stone. Not sure what it is."
Drifter took a closer look at the object in question. Wolv was right. From far it may have looked like a simple white rock, but from up close he could tell that wasn't it.
It wasn't until Drifter used the tip of his spear to scratch a line into it that he realized what he was looking at.
"It's bone."
Wolv and those around blinked. The taller man narrowed his eyes and poked the 'rock' again.
"Huh. So it is. Well, if that isn't creepy as fuck..."
"It gives the floor a whole 'nother vibe, that's for sure."
Drifter had to nod in agreement. When he looked at the trail of red footprints the frontliners left, a whole new line of thinking sprouted, and not a pleasant one.
"Okay, I officially want to be done with this floor already. Where's the safe zone?"
Sinon held an arrow and pointed it at a vaguely discernable palisade in the distance.
"That way."
Drifter hoisted his spear onto his shoulder and started walking.
30 floors to go.