Aincrad, Floor 36, at the end of the Thousand Mirror Mist Chambers in the Labyrinth Tower.
The domain guarded by the Floor Boss, Forgotten War Statue.
The carved stone doors had opened, then slammed shut with a heavy scrape across the floor.
Light ignited overhead like flames, little by little devouring the gloom as it slowly spilled into every corner and crevice. Pure white radiance, untouched by any stain, illuminated the crimson warrior standing at the center of the chamber.
Armor forged from burning red jade shimmered with molten light. Revealed by that brilliance, the slender and solitary figure stood upright, both hands crossed before its abdomen, firmly gripping the hilt of the blade embedded in the ground.
Its lowered head was covered by a hannya mask that revealed only the eyes. Its posture resembled an unyielding knight who had slumbered here for a hundred years to guard a sacred relic.
But whether it was the one who gave it life, or the being itself, both understood clearly that its mission was called protection, yet in truth it existed to sever hope.
Thus bloodshed and savagery filled it from top to bottom.
The Floor Boss of this level, a warrior statue monster like a demon samurai, was liberation cut apart and denied.
Its resting place had been forced open. It should have awakened, drawn its impossibly slender blade, and met the challengers in battle.
But the intruders had not yet crossed the line that would rouse it.
The two players who dared venture this deep had not taken their eyes off each other for even a second since entering.
Not the thunderous closing of the gate.
Not the Forgotten War Statue.
Of course.
They had not come here to test each other.
They had not come here to clear the floor.
They had come here...
To dig the other's grave.
"This is a No-Crystal Zone. That means instant healing and escape are both impossible."
The tall, broad man spoke quietly in a voice like grinding gravel.
Aside from his impressive build, nothing about him, neither his common equipment nor his plain spear, gave any reason for such calm confidence. In this virtual world, even his physique had no effect on character stats.
"I know."
An equally cold voice answered.
Satoru remained expressionless.
"The only ways out are defeating the Boss and climbing the stairs, or reopening the gate and leaving," Satoru said flatly. "Leaving aside the fact that two people clearing the Boss is theoretically impossible, neither of us came here for that. So reopening the gate is the only option."
But unless one of them fell first, there was no way anyone could safely expose their back and leisurely open the door.
And once the No-Crystal Zone activated, no one could enter from outside. It could only be opened from within.
This was a perfect deathmatch prison.
Only the victor would walk out.
"You understand the situation well. As expected of a frontline player. Seems I was showing off before an expert," Didos said.
"Drop the act," Satoru said coldly. "For you, this is just entering a cage. For me, both this place and the outside world became my prison the moment I stepped in here."
He stared at Didos and spoke slowly.
"That cloaked player knows about the people I killed. And today, he finally plans to reveal it. His targets are the frontline players rushing here because of your ambush."
"It's entirely possible he's planted accomplices in multiple guilds. Stirring people up has always been his specialty, from the lower floors until now."
He let out a cold laugh.
"And even if the audience that comes to watch doesn't believe the words of a red player, it doesn't matter. Because we're about to put on a slaughter."
"If I die, that's the worst outcome. But even if I win and walk out of here, then in front of everyone, I will have committed another crime."
"It's a dead end either way. Anyone with a functioning brain can see that. The moment I came here, every road led to defeat. So wipe that relaxed look off your face."
"Then why did you still come?" Didos asked.
Satoru gave a dry laugh.
"Because today's situation is nothing more than the bitter fruit of what I did back then. I'm not the type who only knows how to run away."
"I've bowed my head to the path I chose countless times. But one thing remains true. Even if I bow my head, it has to be by my own choice. Never because someone else forced me."
"While you lot worked so hard to create some grand spectacle, I was simply doing what I always do below, catching your isolated members and killing them one by one."
"Just like him, I want to settle this mess as quickly as possible."
His voice grew heavier.
"So go ahead and enjoy that tiny thrill of succeeding through sneaking around."
"This time, you've given me an opportunity too."
"An opportunity you know leads to death?" Didos asked.
"If I break through a dead road, it becomes a living road," Satoru said. "For that sake, I made another mistake. I diverted guild resources onto myself."
"Using one mistake to patch another."
Didos paused.
"Because you foresaw today, you didn't choose the path of atonement a normal person would. You didn't explain yourself or confess to anyone. Instead, you chose to strengthen yourself completely and secure your own survival."
"In that sense, you're not much different from them."
"No wonder PoH went to such lengths. Just like them, you place shame second and focus only on the present."
"There are people who enjoy watching others sink into filth," Satoru said. "And if it slows the clearing progress a little, even better."
"If the vice commander of a frontline guild ends up like this, maybe the guild itself falls apart."
"A fine plan."
"You see the process and the consequences clearly," Didos said quietly. "Then why did you still choose this?"
"Do you have an answer?" Satoru shot back.
Their conversation halted.
"You're angry," Didos said, tightening his grip on the spear. "But if you understood all this, you shouldn't be angry now."
"Because you people piss me off."
Using her as the ticket.
That pissed him off.
"What a shame," Didos said regretfully. "The source of that anger could have become another answer."
"Ha. You sound like some experienced elder preaching morals."
"Don't act like you're neutral. Everything you've done proves you're no one fit for the stage."
"And in this little play, that cloaked bastard is using you as disposable bait."
"Because there needs to be a murder. So there also needs to be a victim."
"That's your role."
"I don't know how smart you think you are, but since you were tricked into coming here, at least drop the fake pose."
"You're wrong," Didos said calmly. "This is cooperation, not deception. I'm helping them because I consider them friends."
"So helping means walking to your death. That's pathetic."
"Wrong again."
For the first time, Didos looked toward the still sleeping Forgotten War Statue, unmoved by their presence outside its activation range.
"If possible, I hope it kills you."
"I don't like killing people."
"That Don Quixote confidence isn't even funny," Satoru said. "You're in a diseased environment, yet you're not diseased yourself? Is that a joke?"
"It's true," Didos said seriously. "Neither in the real world nor here have I ever killed anyone."
What is wrong with this man?
"The things XaXa and PoH enjoy, the things that fascinate them so deeply, by my standards are certainly negative."
"But that unwavering belief, that heart that never changed from beginning to end..."
"I envy it."
With a pale expression, he brushed back the bangs that had hidden his eyes.
"As their friend, I won't interfere with them."
"But you want to kill them, don't you?"
Satoru said nothing.
"Therefore, I must help them."
"In other words, protect them."
"You already rejected the option of sacrificing yourself earlier."
"So there is no other way."
Not someone playing the victim.
But an executioner who had decided from the very beginning to kill him directly, guiding everyone toward the worst possible ending.
However.
"Nothing but madness."
Satoru spoke coldly.
There was no need to sort through thoughts.
No need to understand feelings.
He only needed to vent the rage inside him.
The next second, skill light burst from curved blade and spear at the same time.
The violent crash of impact shattered the silence of the chamber.
Before the unmoving Floor Boss, Forgotten War Statue, two men who had never met before gripped their own convictions and began a battle to the death.
Heavy.
So heavy.
The viciousness of the curved sword, the decisiveness of the one-handed sword, the speed and precision of the rapier. None of them could contend with the spear wielded by that pale figure. The slightest contact made Satoru's attacks feel as though they had struck solid steel and been stopped cold. A slash, a thrust, a lift. In that man's hands, such crude, unrefined movements carried the weight of a mountain.
Clang!
The Floating Boat Falling Leaves skill released from the Relic Blade collided with the spear once more. Numbness traveled from the softly glowing green blade into his fingertips, leaving him unable to smoothly follow into his next strike.
Didos did not move a single step. Taking advantage of the spear's superior reach, he swept it sideways again with the same direct, shapeless brutality. The shaft violently knocked the Relic Blade aside. The impact-induced stagger was so great that the curved sword flew from Satoru's hand and clattered sharply onto the floor.
Satoru's pupils shrank.
Without sparing even a glance for the dropped weapon, his left hand moved with the practiced speed of a thousand repetitions, sliding open the Quick Change menu. A flame-red Flameforged one-handed sword instantly replaced the Relic Blade. The sword leveled forward, and the moment it entered his grip, the Sword Skill activated.
Cold Strike shot forward with unstoppable force, piercing past Didos's position. But what made Satoru tense was the shriek of grinding steel at his ear.
In that instant, Didos had shifted aside as well, bringing the spear's shaft across the vulnerable side of his body. Though it was only a one-handed spear, he used it flawlessly as a shield.
White light flashed again in Satoru's hand through Quick Change.
He landed, turned, and the Flameforged sword was replaced by the Wind-Shatter Rapier. He launched an explosive series of high-speed thrusts toward Didos's exposed flank and back.
But it was as if the man had eyes on his back.
He casually bent forward, evading the first three fastest hits, then turned and swung the spear in a wide arc, smashing aside the remaining two slower charged strikes.
The impossibly slender Wind-Shatter blade let out a strained screech.
Once again, in priority judgment, Satoru lost.
The plain spear spun back around, its butt aimed straight at his chest. Dense white light ignited around it, and a heavy-hit strike slammed into him, launching him backward.
An absurdly realistic simulation.
There was no sharp pain, yet the sudden compression in his chest made it hard to breathe. It felt as if all the air in this virtual body's lungs had been forcibly crushed out. He grunted and staggered backward.
Sweat had already formed on his face.
SAO simulated sweat according to mental stress and physical exertion. To be honest, the number of times he had sweated in this false world could be counted on one hand.
Because the dangers here were made of numbers.
And numbers could be calculated.
Satoru bent forward, breathing harder than he realized, staring fixedly at the silent man who had already drawn back his spear.
He didn't understand.
He strained to think with everything he had, following the logic he always relied on.
He had a clear advantage in level and equipment.
So why couldn't he handle the man's attacks?
Was it pure Strength stats?
No. If that were the case, there was no reason he should also be able to keep pace with a rapier's Agility.
Was it spear-skill bonuses?
No. Spear skills alone had no ability great enough to cover all of that.
Against Sheeta, he attacked by reading her weaknesses, predicting her skills, and chaining Sword Skills.
Against Morte, he relied on surprise through weapon switching.
But how was he supposed to fight this man?
There wasn't even enough time to understand him. Before he could find a flaw, he would already be crushed. Weapon switching meant nothing.
Satoru cast a dark glance toward the three or four weapons lying in the distance.
The curved swords Relic Blade and Biter.
The one-handed sword Ice's Last Words.
The rapier Light's Bloom.
Weapons once stored in his inventory had all been brought out during the earlier battle. Every one of them had been forcibly knocked from his hands by Didos's overwhelming strength priority.
Those highly enhanced, expensive weapons now lay scattered on the floor like trash.
"So this is the unconventional technique XaXa spoke of," Didos said indifferently, following his gaze to the weapons on the ground. "To make use of multiple weapons to this extent truly isn't something that can be ignored."
"But if you're really the sort of man who can weigh strengths and weaknesses, then naturally you understand the limitations of this style as well."
"To master many things requires confidence."
"It also means abandoning devotion to any one thing."
Satoru's eyes turned colder still.
"Because you cannot raise one discipline to its absolute limit, you rely on quantity to compensate. Reaching this point is already the result of your utmost effort."
"Am I wrong?"
Bastard.
Satoru cursed under his breath.
Of course he couldn't find an opening.
Of course he was being perfectly countered.
It was only natural.
Because this man was the natural enemy of someone like him.
Even a genius like Sheeta would be defeated by a greater genius.
No need to think deeply.
No need to move cautiously.
Simply scatter talent however one pleased and seize victory through brute absurdity.
Or perhaps, against someone a level beneath him, instinct alone was enough.
"I see..." Satoru straightened, voice low. "A true dead end indeed. Even for a cheap scene like using some idiot as a substitute victim, they brought in an actor of this level. They really spared no effort."
"In this false world, there is no pain. Perhaps that was the last mercy left behind by chance."
"I'm not blessed enough to enjoy that kind of mercy," Satoru said with a cold laugh.
"You're gradually running out of room to maneuver." Didos shook his head. "For you, the number of weapons is a key factor. But even for someone like you, how many weapons of this quality do you still have left in your inventory?"
"When an opponent falls outside my range of judgment, all that's left is to fight without confidence."
"That's what I hate most."
"Especially in a trash thing like a game."
His analysis, in the end, was nothing more than grade-school elimination.
Satoru suddenly reversed the Wind-Shatter Rapier and drove it straight into the floor.
The needle-thin blade sank deep into the dark polished ground with a tearing scrape.
That tiny action made Didos visibly surprised for the first time.
Every structure in a Floor Boss chamber should have been indestructible.
That was the system's supreme law.
It was beyond the limitations of the crude physics engine. Driving a sword into the floor should have done nothing except produce a purple warning panel and reduce the rapier's durability.
Yet Wind-Shatter stood embedded upright before Satoru.
Quick Change.
A Flameforged one-handed sword appeared in his hand. He reversed it and stabbed it into the ground as well.
"My level and gear are higher, yet I can't win. Then the problem lies in proficiency," he said darkly. "But an RPG isn't a pure competitive game. Even MOBAs have equipment that raises stats."
Scrape.
This time he crouched and drove a dagger deep into the floor.
Didos did not attack.
He simply watched the strange actions in silence.
"So relying on skill proficiency alone to close the gap in the other two areas is impossible..."
"Unless that skill is so absurdly powerful that it affects balance itself."
The fourth weapon.
Satoru slowly stood.
He possessed only eight weapons in total. Four of the ones available to him now were planted upside down in the ground around him.
This was a difficult answer to reach.
Human beings cannot imagine creatures beyond the limits of their own understanding.
If they never knew such a thing existed from the start, then no matter how talented they were, they would never have a path to touch even the edge of that blank unknown.
"Unable to grasp the opponent. Lacking confidence in victory. Throwing everything into one battle just to claw out a path to survive."
"For some hot-blooded idiot, that would probably be the greatest experience imaginable."
"But for me, it's awful."
Satoru drew a long breath.
"And now that I know a little more, I still have to force myself to fight like some warrior with no retreat."
"That makes it even worse."
"This method..." Didos slowly swept his gaze across the eight weapons gathered here. "Can even this reach success?"
For the first time, he smiled.
"The creator of this game is truly impossible to understand."
"Yeah. Two months ago, I thought the same thing you do now."
Unique Skill.
If he had never known such a thing himself, he would never have been able to guess even a fraction of this man's strength.
And in the end, it had become a pure battle of ability.
Then this crude miracle, piled together through numbers and accidental collision.
Satoru lowered his stance slightly, gripping the curved sword and one-handed sword at his sides.
Could it shine as well?