Sword Art Online - Volume 25 - Chapter 1

1

There were many boss monsters lurking in the floating castle of Aincrad, the setting of the VRMMORPG Sword Art Online.

They could be broadly split into two groups: field bosses, who guarded certain choke points in the wilderness of each floor, and floor bosses, who waited on the top floor of the labyrinth tower that led to each consecutive floor. The particularly dangerous bosses were given unique enemy names, which used the in the title. Therefore, despite the potential confusion, players ended up calling them The Bosses.

Fewer players knew, however, that there was an even higher rank to be found among those unique bosses.

There was, for example, the field boss of the fifty-fifth floor, X’rphan the White Wyrm, that knocked Lisbeth and me down a deep pit. The floor boss of the seventy-fourth floor that I fought with Asuna and Klein, however, was the Gleameyes. The former had a proper name before its epithet, but the latter was just a composite descriptive name. So all The Bosses could be divided into those with proper names and without.

You would assume that the ones with proper names would be the more powerful of the two, but in fact, it was the reverse. This was because the bosses without proper names were actually so feared, the story went, that their proper names were never spoken—and lost to time.

As a matter of fact, nearly all the boss monsters that made me think “I might die right now” were in that category. That included the blue-eyed demon, the Gleameyes; the Fatal Scythe, underground on the first floor; and the floor boss that laid waste to the best players in the game on the seventy-fifth floor.

That boss’s name: the Skullreaper.

The title of that dreaded foe came to mind now, still wreathed in the fear and sweat of the past. “Asuna…,” I murmured, “does it look like what I think it does…?”

Still on the ground, she whispered back, “Yes…It’s not a skeleton, and it’s about twice as big…But that’s the boss of the seventy-fifth floor…”

If we both had the same reaction, then it couldn’t be a mere coincidence.

The monstrous beast staring down at us from across the stormy night plain was a modified version of the Skullreaper.

It was a sixty-foot-long centipede with the face of a man. From the body, sheathed in gleaming black carapace and rippling muscle, sprang countless legs. The tail was as sharp as a spear, and the two front legs were huge, curved scythes. Its elongated head featured four shining red eyes and a gaping mouth that opened in all four directions.

The spindle-shaped cursor hanging over the man-faced centipede featured three HP bars with a name written in English: the Life Harvester. If you tore off the shell and muscle from this creature, it would indeed look exactly like the Skullreaper—although as Asuna said, the size was very different.

“Is this supposed to mean it fell out of the seventy-fifth floor when Aincrad crashed to earth…?” I gaped.

Asuna shook her head. “Remember? Argo said that thing was chasing her for at least fifteen miles. That’s way too far, and it also doesn’t explain why that one has flesh and armor.”

“Yeah…I guess that’s true,” I replied. “Plus, all the floor bosses in New Aincrad have been altered from their SAO forms.”

As I spoke, there came a hideous, screeching roar, like boulders grinding against one another.

“Jyashuaaaa!”

As though drawn by the Life Harvester’s call, purple lightning darted across the black sky, revealing the monster with scythes raised. A deep, cracking rumble arrived moments later. The rain had stopped falling at some point, but the lightning wasn’t finished, it seemed.

“Kirito, what should we do?!” shouted Alice, who had fallen back a short distance away. Our other companions—Lisbeth, Leafa, Silica, Sinon, Argo, Yui, Klein, Agil, his wife, Hyme, the nineteen other Insectsite players with her, Misha the thornspike cave bear, and Kuro the lapispine dark panther—were all waiting for my decision.

Fight or flight?

It didn’t seem like a foe that could be beaten, to be honest. Alongside me, Alice, Lisbeth, and the rhinoceros and stag beetles from Insectsite had all guarded against the Life Harvester’s right scythe swing, and all five of us were easily smashed off our feet. My iron breastplate and left gauntlet were brutally cracked, and I had lost nearly 60 percent of my hit points. The others were similarly damaged.

The scythe swing did not have any shining light effects—it was an ordinary attack. Five of us were unable to block a mere basic attack, which suggested that there was a massive statistical abyss between us, one that player skill could not make up. If we challenged it again and again and perfectly learned its patterns, we might be able to beat it—but that was not how Unital Ring worked. If we died even once, we would be forever banished from this world.

We ought to flee. Assuming that was even possible.

But even that would be difficult. If it was true that Argo had been running for nearly twenty miles, the Life Harvester was gifted with an almost impossibly stubborn pursuit algorithm for a video game monster. There would only be two ways to throw off a monster like this: flee to a location it couldn’t reach or foist it off on another player.

To do the former, we’d need to get on top of a sheer cliff or head into a cave, or perhaps a system-protected town, but we were surrounded by forest and plains for miles, plus Kirito Town—Ruis na Ríg, I had to remind myself—was a town we’d built ourselves, meaning there were no system barriers to keep the monsters out. We couldn’t choose the latter option because there was no one else around, not that I would want to make such a choice in the first place.

The Life Harvester lowered its scythes and began to move this way, its many legs rhythmically undulating. There was no time to mull it over. If I didn’t choose between fight or flight now, we’d all be wiped out.

The mental mention of the word wiped sent a horrid chill through me. It felt as though the insides of my avatar had turned to ice.

If only I knew the monster’s attack patterns. If only.

This voiceless cry raced through my mind, flashing into white sparks that burst like fireworks.

Wait a minute. Should I know them already? If the Life Harvester was just the Skullreaper with flesh and armor on top, then Asuna and I had fought it once before. It was nearly two years ago, but tangible memories of battling on the brink of death did not fade quickly.

“Asuna!” I shouted, grabbing her fragile shoulder. “Do you remember the Skullreaper’s attack patterns?!”

Her hazel-brown eyes opened wide. Just as quickly, the light of determination filled them.

“Yes, I do,” she stated.

I squeezed her shoulder again. “Good. Then you and I can deal with all the scythe attacks. If we hit them with synchronized sword skills, we should be able to neutralize their power.”

She must have largely anticipated this comment already. Her face, a pale orb in the dark of night, looked more tense and resolved than before. She whispered, “But opposite the Skullreaper, the commander guarded against the other scythe all on his own.”

Asuna was speaking of the Knights of the Blood’s leader, Heathcliff the Holy Sword. It was because he had the greatest defense of any player in the frontline group that he was able to take on one of the scythes all on his own, helping Asuna and me last to the end. I didn’t deny that fact, but if my memory was correct…

“The Skullreaper never attacked with both scythes at once. I remember that it always folded one scythe against its chest when it was about to swing the other. As long as we’re watching for that, we should be capable of stopping the scythes with just the two of us.”

“…All right,” she said quickly. Asuna understood just as well as I did that running was not possible. Fighting was our only choice. We nodded together, then reached into our waist sacks to retrieve not healing herbs, but healing tea, and drained the bottles together. The icon for gradual HP recovery appeared, and I got to my feet.

“We’re going to fight!” I shouted to the group. The others lifted themselves up from the grass. “That Life Harvester is the same as the Skullreaper boss from the seventy-fifth floor of Aincrad! Asuna and I will deal with the scythe attacks from the front! Klein, you lead the assault on the left side! Agil, you join the Insectsite folks on the right! Yui, use magic to attack—Misha and Kuro, protect her!”

As veterans of the Skullreaper battle, Agil and Klein replied to my rapid orders with a hearty “You got it!” They relayed orders of their own to Alice and Hyme’s group, arranging formations on either side, while Yui and the two pets formed a roaming unit.

The Life Harvester came to a stop, seeming to sense our resolve. Its four eyes narrowed.

“Jyashuuu…,” it hissed, mocking the tiny creatures that dared to challenge it.

Then it charged, racing forward with incredible speed that tore the grass under its many feet. Feeling the pressure of it bearing down on us, I shouted to Asuna, “Here we go!”

“I’m ready!”

It felt like we were back in SAO again. We charged, too, the gap between both sides rapidly shrinking. Once we were under thirty feet apart, the Life Harvester’s right scythe tucked itself against its chest, while the left scythe pulled back sideways.

We had learned, quite painfully, that blocking the scythe with our weapons would not work. Instead, the only way to neutralize the scythe attack was for both of us to hit it with sword skills together.

This concept of “synced sword skills,” which we’d developed in SAO and still existed among ALO players as a kind of unofficial practice, sounded simple—just strike the target with simultaneous sword skills—but required significant technique. The reason was that the time needed for each starting motion among the many, many sword skills was varied, as was the skill speed. So activating your skills at the same time would not make them land at the same time. And that would not produce the desired effect.

If you could perfectly align the moment of impact, however, the power of one plus one would instead jump to three or four. And because sword skills had a powerful knockback ability that normal attacks didn’t, the two of us should be able to defend against the same scythe attack that had knocked over five people just moments earlier. It had worked against the Skullreaper, at least.

I activated the single-slice One-Handed Sword skill Vertical, and Asuna activated the single-thrust rapier skill Linear about two-tenths of a second later.

The other reason that synced sword skills were so hard was that your skill could not overlap the skill or body of your partner. If I had used Horizontal instead of Vertical, it would have hit Asuna directly on my right before it struck the Life Harvester’s scythe. You had to be aware of your enemy’s location, partner’s location, and partner’s posture, then select the best skill for the situation.

“Jyaaaaa!” the monster roared, its massive hooked scythe howling as it cut through air.

My longsword and Asuna’s rapier took on different shades of blue light that split the darkness. Two edges collided with the curve of the scythe.

Kwaaannng! A tremendous crash buffeted my ears.

The staggering recoil of the sword traveled back through my right hand, elbow, and shoulder, until it burst through my spine.

But I held firm. I hadn’t been tossed backward yet. The enemy’s scythe didn’t budge, however. It was just an infinitesimally short moment of pause. I reached for everything I could, even the Incarnation power that didn’t exist in this world, searching for the strength to push the scythe back.

I felt a sudden burst in the center of my head. It almost felt like I could feel the pressure not just against my own sword, but Asuna’s rapier as well. Our wills overlapped, requiring neither words nor glances to communicate.

“Ohhhh!”

“Haaaah!”

Our cries overlapping as well, we wrung out every last drop of power that our sword skills could produce.

The glowing light of our weapons flashed brighter, then went out. Our weapons were deflected, and we lost our balance.

But more importantly, the Life Harvester’s left scythe was also pushed backward.

We blocked it!

Asuna and I shared this single triumphant thought in a moment of eye contact during the resulting skill delay. All we had to do was keep repeating that synchronized skill. Until our companions could work down all three HP bars.

When the delay wore off, and we could move again, the man-faced centipede was also getting back to its many feet.

This time, it folded up its left scythe and raised its right arm high. This would be a downward swing, not a sideswipe. There was no need to deflect it with sword skills, but a direct hit would be instant death, and even if you dodged it, the splash damage could cause us to fall over.

“Not yet, Kirito,” Asuna murmured, staring up at the Life Harvester’s scythe.

“I know,” I whispered back.

The blackened tip of the scythe began to waver, trying to lure us into a stupor—and then it struck downward with blinding speed. Its target was Asuna.

“That way!” I shouted, but she was already jumping. I landed in front of her, hunching over into a defensive position to protect against the shock.

The scythe smashed into the ground with an explosive sound. The impact ripped up a wave of grass, and a shock wave rushed toward us. I felt a tremendous impact when it passed over us, but I managed to stay on my feet. There was no damage.

“Kirito, you don’t need to protect me!” Asuna shouted over my shoulder.

But as I rose to my feet, I shot back, “Your leather armor can’t fully protect you from that kind of area damage!”

“…That’s true,” she admitted with chagrin; one of Asuna’s steadfast strengths was that she always admitted the truth as soon as she saw it. I was wearing Fine Steel in every piece of armor, but Asuna only had thin chest armor, arm guards, and shin guards. If she guarded adequately, she’d be able to avoid falling over, but we needed to minimize all the scratch damage, too.

The Life Harvester wrenched its scythe out of the ground with some effort; it was stuck into the soil over three feet deep. Watching carefully, I instructed, “If that downward swing attack comes again, try to get behind me!”

“Got it! Here it comes!”

The man-faced centipede pulled its newly freed arm back. It was going to swipe again.

As I prepped my sword skill, I glanced at the sides of the centipede to determine how the battle was going.

To my right, Klein’s group, which included Alice and Lisbeth, was furiously attacking the over twenty legs on the creature’s flank. On the left, Agil and the Insectsite team were busy dealing damage the same way. A number of legs had already been severed, but the Life Harvester occasionally whipped its tail spear around fiercely, causing huge damage if you didn’t detect the tell and drop to the ground first. I could only trust that Klein and Agil were watching for it without fail, so I focused on the scythe again.

It was another sideswipe—except, no. The backswing was too shallow. This was…

“A feint!” Asuna cried as I turned to the right. The left scythe was already on the move. This feint motion had nearly killed me in the fight on the seventy-fifth floor. I’d been grateful to Heathcliff when he’d warned me just in time—which was ironic, because it was he, Akihiko Kayaba, who had created the Skullreaper in the first place.

The Life Harvester quickly returned the right scythe, which it pretended to attack with, to its body, and swung the left scythe forward on a level. The path was slightly higher than the first attack. I used the diagonal Slant skill, while Asuna met it with the thrusting Streak.

Once again, I felt a moment of shared sensory information with Asuna. Our breathing aligned; we deflected the scythe again.

This was what happened against the Skullreaper, too. We shared thoughts without using words and maintained perfect synchronization without a single mistake. Much time had passed since that fight—we were in a different world, with different weapons and different stats—but the link that connected us was still alive. We could surely win this fight, as we won before.

On the right, Kirito!

Let’s block it here!

We aligned ourselves with communication so smooth that I couldn’t even tell if it was spoken or psychic. With each successful counter, the distractions faded away. The fear that even a single failure would lead to our deaths evaporated, as did the impatience of wondering how long we’d have to do this in order to win—leaving only one sensation: the pleasure of becoming one with Asuna, optimizing our movements into the ideal.

And it was this trance state that swept our feet out from under us at the very last moment.

“Shagyuoooooo!!”

I couldn’t count how many times the beast had roared by now. The Life Harvester retracted both scythes as far as they could go along the ground. That was a motion we had never seen before, even back in SAO.

If Asuna and I were in a normal state, we would have detected that an unknown attack was coming and attempted to retreat outside of the scythes’ swing range.

But having countered so many attacks in a row in an almost-automatic state, it took an extra half a second to snap out of the trance state and regain my usual decision-making ability.

The withdrawn scythes began to issue a crimson glow. This was a special attack the Skullreaper didn’t have. There was no time to evade, and there was no way that Asuna and I could each block a scythe that was boosted with extra power.

“Kirito—,” Asuna rasped at the same time that the screams of our companions filled the air.

We’d just have to hit the ground and pray—but no, I had a better option.

“Forward!!” I shouted, pushing her from behind. We leaped forward together.

Burning red scythes rushed toward us from the left and right. I could feel the premonition of fatal damage prickling on my skin as I raced for all I was worth.

The Life Harvester’s forelegs were about ten feet of upper arms, attached to fifteen feet of giant scythes. When swinging just one scythe, it pulled the other against its chest to keep from smashing them together. Now it was swinging both of them, however. While the blades themselves were thin enough that they could cross each other without touching, the thick arms would collide. That should leave a narrow gap, right in front of its body.

If it didn’t, Asuna and I were going to die.

The blades rushed inward. I could hear the kshaa! of the two scythes scraping against each other already behind us. Before us was the massive body, covered in blue-black carapace. With the Skullreaper, there had been enough of a gap to slip underneath the body if necessary, but the Life Harvester’s loins featured four protuberances like spikes that blocked any gap.

“Right up against it!” I cried, leaping to the side of one of the spikes. Asuna did the same, pressing against me. The scythes continued to rush toward us from behind…

Clank! They met dully.

I turned around to see the joint areas of both forelegs, smashed together and locking the two of us inside a small triangle of space.

“Jyaaaaa!!” it roared with fury. I looked up to see it glaring down at us, freakish mouth opened as far as it could go. The HP readout over its head was down to the final bar, with barely 20 percent left. Our companions had been faithfully grinding down its HP. We had to finish this encounter strong, so that their efforts paid off.

“Jyashuuuu!!” it hissed again. The Life Harvester’s foreleg joints clacked as they collided, again and again. Its mouth opened and closed furiously above our heads. But the monster’s thick armor narrowed its range of motion, so that it couldn’t do anything while we clung to its torso. If it started charging forward, we’d have to move as well, but it seemed to be having enough trouble just staying upright; the others must have removed most of its legs by now.

“This is our chance, Kirito!” Asuna cried, readying her rapier. Sensing her plan, I lifted my longsword to my right shoulder.

“Jyaaaaa!!” it roared for the third time.

My jumping skill Sonic Leap and Asuna’s charging skill Shooting Star activated, aimed directly upward—and aided by the boost of leaping. The combination of avatar jump strength and system assistance carried us upward with momentum that would be impossible in real life.

Longsword and rapier, trailing two colors of light, burst through the huge open mouth, and its jaw opened up, down, left, and right.

The pale flash bulged, extending into a pillar of light that passed through the inside of its four eyes. Light also shone from cracks in the shell and joints, then pulsed—and exploded.

The Life Harvester writhed backward, spraying pale flames from its head. We jumped away from the creature, doing backflips in the air. Once we’d landed, I checked the HP bar: just under 10 percent left.

Sensing that we could finish it off with an all-out assault, I breathed in to give the order to the group.

But before I could, the Life Harvester bellowed with more rage than any it had expressed to this point.

“Jyaggrrraaaaaahh!!”

Filthy red flames rose in the four damaged eye sockets after our attack damage faded. The massive body trembled and shuddered, trapped in place with over 80 percent of its legs lost. The spear on its tail smacked the ground a few times. It looked like the warning signs of a frantic state, when a nearly dead boss tossed out its usual attack patterns for one final burst of desperate thrashing.

If everyone here committed to a total offensive plan with no thought for defense, we could probably grind out the last few percent of its HP bar. But if even a tiny bit was still left at the end, its counterattack could possibly wipe us all out. Should we pull back for a little distance and take our time with a safer strategy?

There was no guarantee that Asuna and I could avoid that previous double-scythe attack again, however. Our strategy had worked specifically because the two of us were keeping the Life Harvester entirely occupied. If it turned its attention on the people around its flanks, it might cause our formation to crumble.

After coming so far, are we stuck without a winning option? I lamented.

“     !”

A familiar screeching voice issued from the forest to the west of the battlefield.

From among the trees leaped a number of figures, much smaller than a human. But this was not some new group of monsters. It was the rodent-type humanoid NPCs we’d left behind in Ruis na Ríg, the Patter. There were ten of them in total. Each one held an iron pitchfork in its left hand and a crude spear whittled from wood in its right.

The one in the lead, whom I took to be female, shouted again.

“   !!”

On that cue, the ten of them released their wooden spears as one. The projectiles flew with unimaginable force from such small bodies and struck the Life Harvester’s head one after the other. Half just bounced off the carapace, but the others sank into muscle, taking down another 3 percent. Just 5 percent left.

“Jyaaaa!”

The Life Harvester roared and stuck its few remaining legs into the ground, managing to turn its body. It was clearly targeting the Patter now. But the small mice men gripped their pitchforks with both hands and stood firm.

Then a new voice entered the fray.

“      !!”

More silhouettes were rushing out of the woods now. This time they were human—but not players. It was the other NPC group that had moved into Ruis na Ríg, the Bashin tribespeople. When their leader, the stout warrior Yzelma, saw me, she shouted, “   !”

I didn’t have the skills for either the Patter or the Bashin language, but I understood instinctually what she had said. It was some form of “Are you afraid or something?” or “Let’s do this!”

Withdrawal was no longer an option. We would press a total offensive assault, and we would either emerge victorious or perish as a group.

Drawing a breath and holding it in my gut, I raised my sword and yelled, “All-out attack!!”

The roars of my companions matched the roar of the Life Harvester.