Sword Art Online - Volume 28 - Chapter 11

11

It was one thirty PM on October 4.

I stopped at the foot of an especially large spiral pine, and for the first time in ages—actually just eighteen hours—I took in the sight of Ruis na Ríg and was speechless.

I’d been startled by the changes I saw when I’d logged in the previous night, too, but in less than a day it had expanded even more than before.

The town of Ruis na Ríg was surrounded by walls with a radius of thirty yards, but the Protection of the Ancient Oak effect from the log cabin in the center extended for fifty yards, so even twenty yards out from the walls, quickly built little huts were crammed in cheek to jowl, creating a dividing line between the city center and the “suburbs.” That was last night.

Now the suburban area extended another twenty yards beyond the protection line. Nearly all the structures bristling along the edge were Crude Wooden Huts made of unprocessed narrow logs—in other words, branches. Naturally, since they weren’t within the area of protection, they had less than 1,000 durability. Even a low-level player could easily destroy one with a stone ax.

It wasn’t a very reliable place for storing items you couldn’t carry or for offering safety so you could log out, but the extreme density of the living quarters gave you some kind of security through mutual supervision. Perhaps the peace was maintained by the fact that if you were trying to destroy a house while the owner was away or logged out, chances were someone else would be around to catch you doing it. Still, it wasn’t likely to last long. They were all just staking their claims that they were “in line,” waiting for the protective effect to expand or hoping for a chance to be given choice territory inside the walls.

“Hmm. Better hurry up with this,” I murmured. Asuna looked at the town around the other side of the tree and said, “Yeah. At this rate, there’s going to be major trouble before the day is over.”

“Plus, there are folks still streamin’ in, lookin’ for shelter. Folks around the Stiss Ruins already know we made it to the second tier,” Argo explained from the back.

Next to her, Silica said, “Oh, really? It hasn’t even been a day, so I wonder where the info is coming from…”

“With online games, rumors can spread from one corner of the map to the other in a day. But this one seems a little too quick to me. And I haven’t caught sight of anyone braggin’ about it on social media…”

“Really, Argo? You check everyone’s online presence?” Asuna said, surprised. The informant grinned; her painted whiskers were back and stretched over her cheeks.

“That’s just 101, baby. I even follow all the accounts of the Insectsite folks,” she bragged. “Only problem is the AD folks from yesterday—I haven’t gotten them yet. It’s possible the news is filtering out through them.”

“Or some other ALO players are keeping tabs on us,” I said, not mentioning the possibility that someone from the team was leaking information about our progress to the outside. “If we are being watched, there’s a high likelihood it’s someone connected to Mutasina. We destroyed the staff that casts the Noose, but she’s not going to give up just from that. She’ll make another move against us eventually.”

“I agree,” said Asuna, who watched the bustling exterior of Ruis na Ríg with concern. “It might be hard for her to put together a huge army like she did before without the Noose, but there’s plenty she can still do if she sets her mind to it. She could whip up all the people who’ve moved here into starting a riot, or kite a huge monster like the Life Harvester all the way over here…or she might just try to assassinate you, Kirito.”

“Well, I don’t really think that’s…”

I started to laugh it off, then realized that she wasn’t exaggerating at all. They all sounded like tactics employed by the infamous red guild of SAO, Laughing Coffin, but in a world like Unital Ring without a crime-prevention code, it would actually be even easier to pull off unrest or assassination like that.

“…Okay, fair point. I’ll be careful to watch out for myself. You do the same, Asuna,” I suggested. Asuna grinned briefly and said, “I will.”

Behind us, Silica cleared her throat and said, “Anyway, I was wondering, do you think Mutasina’s goal is to collect all the ALO players and be their leader?”

“Yeah…I think so. Azuki already told us the AD folks have their own dragon therian as their leader, and the Asuka players probably have something like that, too…”

“Rumor says they’ve got a freakin’ powerful commander and a really sharp strategist,” Argo added. I shot her an appreciative glance, then turned back to Silica.

“So if Mutasina’s gunning for a position like that, then we’re an impediment to her… So I think she wants to bend us to her will and absorb Ruis na Ríg into her own army,” I replied.

Pina’s position shifted forward on Silica’s head as she tilted it to think. “In that case, why didn’t she just try to be the best possible leader in a more orthodox manner? If she can use massive magic spells like that, then her inherited skill and gear must have been really powerful. Why threaten people with suffocation magic when you can build up trust normally? She could have been good enough to find herself as the leader of the ALO faction anyway…”

Her suggestion reminded me of the conversation I heard at the Stiss Ruins.

The most effective path is to threaten your fellow players with this sadistic magic? There are other members of your Virtual Study Society here, aren’t there?

That had been Tsuburo, a wielder of a two-handed sword and leader of the Announcer Fan Club. Mutasina took his criticism with a cool, cruel smile.

The reason you chose to meet in this place was because of a temporary alignment of goals, wasn’t it? Let me be clear: You might cooperate now, but the closer the goal becomes, the more our teams will compete with one another. In the end, even the players within a team will fight and kill one another. But as long as my magic is active upon you, we can avoid that situation. Do you see…? This is the best and most effective means of getting to the finish line, isn’t it?

I shook my head to get the witch’s voice out of my ears and told Silica, “Mutasina said even the most tight-knit group would ultimately turn on one another as they grew closer to the goal, and the suffocation magic would prevent it from happening. It’s true there’s no guarantee that won’t happen to us, but there’s no way the best option is to threaten your companions and force them to do your bidding. And I feel like Mutasina realizes that, too…”

“Then…why would she…?” Silica asked.

Again, I shook my head back and forth. Every player would reveal a little something of their nature when you spoke to them face-to-face, but even in the moment I unveiled a sword skill in her presence, the witch didn’t give me anything to work with. I might not have felt something like that since Emperor Vecta, aka Gabriel Miller… Then again, during my fight, I could sense that within him there was only endless nothingness. But Mutasina’s eyes, by contrast, were mirrors that reflected back everything they saw…

“Kirito…?” Silica prompted.

I looked up. “Oh! Sorry. I can’t even imagine the purpose that drives Mutasina’s actions. All I can tell you is she’s definitely going to try something else next.”

“Then we have to be greater than whatever she’s expecting us to be!” she said with a smile, and gazed at Ruis na Ríg. “First, we have to do something about the chaos going on here! Then we can start the zip line experiment!”

“Kyuru!” cried Pina from her head.

She was right that it was pointless to stand around talking. I had to be back at our temporary base on the second tier by three forty-five, or I wouldn’t be on time for our meeting at four o’clock. That meant I had just an hour and forty minutes I could spend here in Ruis na Ríg. And the log cabin had to be leveled-up in that time.

While I went into my inventory, Argo took a step back and said, “Welp, I’m gonna get goin’.”

“Huh? Where?” I asked.

Argo glanced at Asuna and explained, “Gonna go down to the Stiss Ruins. I’ll be back at Ruis na Ríg later in the day, but if you and A-chan are goin’ to the AD camp, then I prolly won’t see ya until a while later.”

“Ah, yeah…Take care, then.”

“You too!” Argo said, and, with ninja-like nimbleness, she darted off through the trees and vanished.

I went back to my inventory and pulled out a Crude Linen Cloak to wear. Asuna and Silica put the same thing on from head to below the knee.

Silica also had a large cloth backpack that she placed Pina in and slung over her back. Now she wouldn’t be an obvious giveaway to anyone who might recognize her. The thought that we, the people who built this village, should have to return in disguise seemed silly, but I wanted to avoid any unnecessary trouble. Fortunately, given the difficulty in drying hair and clothes in Unital Ring, there were many players who wore hooded cloaks to avoid the rain, and the three of us didn’t stand out dressed like that.

We left the large tree and approached the suburban area of Ruis na Ríg. The majority of the buildings were simple huts, but the narrow path also had many carts selling unspecified skewers, stews, and dumplings. The aroma was quite arresting, actually.

“We’re not buying any,” Asuna said quietly. I protested that I hadn’t even said anything.

We continued down the footpath, which wasn’t even six feet across. It looked just like a slum, but the mood was surprisingly cheery, and in the few little openings that existed, players who’d been out hunting on their own during the morning sat around eating skewers and drinking from bisque cups, chatting genially.

After about twenty yards, the quality of the huts jumped significantly. We had entered the Protection of the Ancient Oak zone. Whether built of branches, planks, or stone, these structures got a major durability boost, but when you thought of them as permanent homes rather than as placeholders for waiting in line, it made sense that you would want to build something nicer.

Another twenty yards in, we passed through the northwest gate of Ruis na Ríg. The path known as the Ten O’Clock Road was even busier than usual, thanks to it being a Sunday. On the right side were the Bashin quarters, packed with tents. Hidden in one of them was a tunnel, the only way in and out of the log cabin’s enclosure, with its high walls.

We tried to take the wooden gate around the midpoint of Ten O’Clock Road into the Bashin quarters, but a great roar arose from the left side up ahead, drawing our attention. On the left side of the path were the stables, where in addition to our four pets, other people could keep their own tamed animals. Kuro and Aga were up on the second tier, so it was only Misha, Namari, and a handful of other people’s pets…or so I thought.

I pulled away from the gate and trotted toward the voices. There was a large crowd in the spacious yard of the stables, I found, and from beyond them came the sharp sound of metal on metal. Upon squeezing through the audience, I was not expecting what I eventually found.

In the center of the fan-shaped yard was a large circle, inside which two players were facing off. The man on the left was using a longsword and a round shield, while the one on the right used a two-handed sword. They had set up an impromptu fighting competition. But the HP bars on the spindle cursors over their heads showed 80 percent left for the greatsword, and a bit under 70 for the longsword. That seemed like too much damage to suffer for a simple exhibition.

There was a man in leather armor cheering them on in the front row. I sidled up next to him, and without lifting the hood of my cloak, asked, “What are they doing here?”

“This? It’s the final!”

“Final of what?”

“Quit botherin’ me, this is the good part. Can’t you read?” he snapped, pointing to the right of the ring. Under the shade, which was why I didn’t notice it, was a handmade sign with a tournament bracket on it. There were eight contestants, meaning there had been four quarterfinals and two semifinals before this, and we had walked into the championship bout.

I watched the swordsmen sidling carefully around one another, then stared at the bracket again.

At the top of the bracket, above the line that indicated the eventual winner, were the letters VS, though they were difficult to make out. So the winner would then be scheduled to fight someone else. There was another line going up from the VS, and above even that there was more writing, but it was terrible handwriting, and the shade from the branches was waving back and forth, making it very hard to actually read.

One of the combatants shouted, “Shaaa!”

The one with the longsword raised his shield and closed the gap. His plan was probably to get the greatsword-wielder to attack, which he could deflect with the shield, or use it for a body blow if the other fighter dodged to either side. The round shield was made of metal and fairly thick, so it would hold up against a blow from a big two-handed sword. The orthodox tactic against a big opponent was to close the gap and use their size against them.

But the two-handed-sword fighter, if he had experience fighting against other players, would be used to opponents trying to get close. So how would he react to this? I leaned forward a bit in anticipation.

“Rahhh!” howled the greatsword-user, and did something I did not expect at all.

He cast his sword aside, stepped forward, and grabbed the rim of the round shield with both hands. Thanks to his larger size, he was able to bend backward and absorb the charge of his opponent. Then he shouted, “Oraaa!” and spun the shield to the left. The longsword-wielder tried to resist, but the difference of strength between two hands and one was insurmountable, and he lurched to the side.

From my SAO days until now, I had almost never used a shield in a VRMMO. But I was aware that among shield-using players, there had been an endless debate over whether a shield fixed to your arm or more free-swinging was better.

Almost all shields had a leather strap on the backside that held your forearm against the shield, and then a handle to grip. This was the orthodox method, and in SAO, when you dropped a shield on your equipment mannequin, that was how it would materialize on your person. If the belt was over your arm, you could let go with your hand and still keep the shield on, so there was some freedom of movement there, and you could better defend against shield-snatching skills.

On the other hand, it wasn’t easy to loosen the belt in battle, so if you ever wanted to let go of your shield—say, a giant monster had its mouth over it, or the shield got covered in poison or oil—you couldn’t immediately disengage your arm from it. I’d heard of stories in SAO about running from a monster and having the edge of the shield catch on the wall of a narrow passage, or players trying to loosen the belt, only for it not to work, thus leading to disaster. Since that point, many players specifically used the Quick Change mod to remove their shields rather than switch between weapons.

It seemed the player using the shield here preferred to fasten it with the belt, and thus he lost his balance at once. But in an impressive feat of agility, he managed to stutter-step his way to staying on his feet.

At this point, the greatsword-user wasn’t necessarily at an advantage. He had thrown away his sword to grab the shield. Now it was just a question of whether he would pick up his sword or the longsword-user would regain his balance first.

But instead, the greatsword-user quickly kicked his leg up. The sword on the ground floated up into the air, where he caught it by the handle. Apparently, he had only pretended to throw it away, but kept the toe of his boot under the flat of the blade.

This bit of acrobatics made the crowd roar. It was a flashy trick, but even more than that, it was extremely difficult. You had to know by muscle memory where the center of gravity of the sword was, and kick it accurately, or else it would come up at an angle, not straight.

The player added his left hand to the hilt and held it even. The unadorned but sturdy-looking blade glowed red: the sword skill Cyclone. His opponent was still stumbling. This one was going to land—I was certain.

“That’s enough!!” bellowed a deep voice, and the greatsword-user intentionally fumbled his Cyclone to prevent it from activating. The longsword-user straightened up and screamed, “Dammit!”

There was an even greater cheer and rapturous applause as another player stepped forward from near the sign. He was a heavyset man with scale armor and a scimitar on his left side. He seemed familiar to me, but before I could pinpoint where, Silica whispered, “Oh, that’s Dikkos.”

“Ah…you’re right.”

The man with the scimitar was indeed Dikkos, leader of the Weed Eaters. I’d heard he took part in the battle against the gilnaris hornets the previous day. What was he doing here…?

Promptly, Dikkos raised his hand toward the combatant and shouted, “The winner is…Tsuburo!!”

Another cheer arose. My mouth hung open. His gear had changed completely, so I didn’t realize it was him, but now I recognized that extremely thick set of eyebrows and that square jaw. That was obviously Tsuburo, leader of the Announcer Fan Club.

Dikkos, Tsuburo, and Holgar from the Absolute Survivor Squad had once announced a major friendly alliance party at the Stiss Ruins, hoping to promote unity among the ALO players. But that had been the site of Mutasina’s Noose of the Accursed magic, turning the party from a celebration into a house of horrors.

Following that, the trio of teams were re-formed as Mutasina’s army and led an attack on Ruis na Ríg. We fought back against the army along the banks of the Maruba River, and at the end of a terrible battle, I smashed Mutasina’s staff. Once freed from the Noose, Dikkos and Holgar stayed in Ruis na Ríg, while Tsuburo returned to the Stiss Ruins—I had assumed.

So why was he here, taking part in a fighting tournament, and what was the deal with the tournament anyway? I glanced at the bracket again. At that very moment, some thin clouds blocked the sun, evening out the dappling effect of the shade on the board.

The name of the person at the very top of the bracket, whom the winner was scheduled to face, was…Kirito the Black Swordsman.

“Oh, it’s Kirito.”

“Looks like it’s Kirito,” Asuna and Silica both whispered.

I turned back awkwardly and asked, “Hey…was I scheduled to appear in something like this?”

“Not as far as I’m aware…”

“Exactly…”

“Oh, Dikkos is going to say something,” Silica said, so I turned around toward the ring again.

Having acknowledged Tsuburo as the winner, Dikkos took a step forward and shouted, “As the winner, Tsuburo will receive the prize of one hundred weed dumplings and the right to challenge Kirito to a fight! However, Kirito is currently tackling the second tier, and the timing of his next return to Ruis na Ríg is unknown! Therefore, when we have a date and time for the bout, it will be displayed here!”

Boos cascaded down upon him from unhappy watchers who thought the fight was going to happen here and now. Meanwhile, I steadily backed away. But I didn’t get more than two feet before someone grabbed my shoulders from behind.

“Kirito, why not just fight him now and get it over with?”

“What…?”

Over my shoulder, Asuna had a cheeky grin on her face.

“I think Dikkos has some kind of plan in mind. If we travel to the Apocalyptic Date base, who knows when we’ll be back here? Don’t you want to clear up this matter now, while you can?”

“Well, I mean…sure, but…”

My mind was racing. True, it was hard to believe Dikkos would put on such an entertainment-focused event without consulting me, when he was using my name to promote it. There had to be some connection to the current state of Ruis na Ríg, I suspected. It wouldn’t feel good to leave on my journey with that question hanging overhead. Plus, if they wanted me to appear in a duel, that was way easier than doing negotiations or giving a speech.

“Well…guess I’ll go and do this,” I told the two girls, then strode confidently into the open.

“Who’s that?”

“Is he tryin’ to stake his claim?”

The crowd tried to figure out what was going on, but I just walked right up to Dikkos. The scimitar-wielder looked suspicious for a second, then noticed my face under the hood, and his jaw dropped. He quickly recovered, however, and leaned in to say, “I can explain this, Kirito. But first, will you promise to fight Tsuburo now and ask questions later?”

“Sure, but what happens if I lose?”

“Things get very annoying and messy, so please win if you can. I need you on this one…but I still have to be an impartial judge,” Dikkos whispered. He was sure asking a lot.

He stepped forward and addressed the crowd.

“Ladies and low-down mangy dogs!”

Outside the ring, Tsuburo was drinking a potion. He spun around. The crowd that had begun to disperse quickly returned to fill the space again.

“Today is your lucky day! As it turns out, we’ve got that extra fight for you, right now!”

“Huh…? Who’s that?” demanded Tsuburo, his big eyebrows raised. He looked over my head, but the suspicion did not leave him.

In Unital Ring, player cursors generally did not appear for anyone who wasn’t a party member or raid member. The only exceptions were hostile players and those who had changed their cursor display settings in the system menu. In the fight between Tsuburo and his swordsman opponent, they had changed their settings to display only the HP bar to everyone so Dikkos the judge and the audience could gauge the remaining HP for themselves. I opened my ring menu and altered the cursor settings to match.

Dikkos held out his left hand toward Tsuburo, who looked baffled, and shouted, “In the blue corner…leader of the Announcer Fan Club, the Voice Actor Otaku of Truth…Tsuburooooooo!”

At a loss for what else to do, Tsuburo raised his fist to the crowd, who lustily cheered for him. Once that died down, Dikkos held out his right hand toward me.

“In the red corner…master of Ruis na Ríg, the Black Swordsman…Kiritooooooo!”

Wondering how I’d gotten myself wrapped up in this, I grabbed my cloak and ripped it loose.

The cheers hushed briefly, building up momentum…and then exploded. I glanced around and saw more people were streaming in from the Ten and Two O’Clock Roads, as well as from the Inner Perimeter Road behind us.

Through the deafening roar, Tsuburo stomped toward me. His greatsword was in the sheath on his back, and he held out open palms to show he was holding nothing.

“You came back, Kirito?” he asked, smiling confidently. I held out my hands in the same way.

“Yep. Just now.”

“I’m guessing you’re not sure how it came to this, then. I hate to force you to fight while in that state, but you walked out in the open, so we can’t help it now,” he said at a normal volume, then jabbed a finger in my face and growled, loudly enough for all to hear, “Kirito, I got nothing in my heart but gratitude for the way you saved us from Mutasina’s bullshit magic…but this town’s had enough now! If I win, you better hand over control of the town to me!”

Whaaaat?!

Through some miracle of willpower, I kept my reaction under wraps. I had a feeling the dueling tournament had something to do with the overcrowding situation, but I wasn’t expecting control of the town to be the wager. In other words, if I accepted this match and lost, ownership of the log cabin, the primary structure of the Ruis na Ríg settlement, would belong to Tsuburo.

I glanced to my right at Asuna, who stood at the front of the crowd. She hadn’t anticipated this outcome; her mouth was slightly agape in the shadow of her hood.

I thought she might leap into the ring and shout, “No, you can’t do this!” But she just closed her mouth and shrugged, as if to say, “As long as you win, there’s no problem.”

To be honest, this wasn’t the kind of faith I necessarily wanted placed in me. I had to fight back a grimace and opened my menu to equip my Fine Steel Longsword. A familiar, trustworthy weight pulled on my left hip.

Tsuburo saw this action as an acceptance of the terms and grinned. “That’s more like it.” He stepped back until he crossed the starting line drawn on the east side of the ring, then turned around. I went back and toed the starting line on the west side in turn.

Dikkos left the ring and held up a small pot and a ladle.

“There are no time limitations! First clean hit wins, leaving the ring is an automatic loss, and TKO rules apply! Competitors, draw your weapons!”

Tsuburo pulled the greatsword off his back, and I grabbed the longsword from my sheath. We took traditional stances. It was the same combination of weapons as the last bout, except for the fact that I didn’t use a shield.

Tsuburo kept his eyes glued to my hands. Was it because he had a plan in mind and didn’t want me to intuit it based on the movement of his eyes? I had no plan going in, just one bit of determination—not to use my Incarnation.

After five seconds of milking the moment, Dikkos struck the bottom of the pot with the ladle. It made a goofy kaponk sound, and Tsuburo charged.

It went against all proper theory for a greatsword fighter to close the gap himself. He probably wanted to catch me off guard and ram me—in kendo, this was called buchikamashi—until I lost my balance and fell out of the ring. I could wait him out and then dodge to either side, but I had a feeling Tsuburo would be expecting that.

A split second had me launch off the ground—not left or right, but forward.

In the center of the ring, our swords collided with an ear-ringing clash. My weapon was smaller than his, but thanks to the Rebound ability, which increased the chances of inflicting a knockback on the enemy, both Tsuburo and I were pushed backward with equal force.

Despite the unsteadiness of his feet, Tsuburo lifted his greatsword a bit, but quickly drew it back. He was probably trying to execute a sword skill the instant his balance recovered, but he thought better of it when he realized he wouldn’t have enough distance.

In duels, you wanted to avoid just “firing off” sword skills—using single-hit attacks that were all-or-nothing prayers. Instead, it was best to knock the opponent off-balance with regular attacks and only use sword skills when they couldn’t be avoided, even if the opponent could defend against them. When a sword skill missed, it would lead to a lengthy recovery delay that would essentially end the duel. Tsuburo made the right decision.

But this system had a depth to it that ALO players who first came to know sword skills there would not understand yet.

While my upper half was still upright, I moved my sword over my right shoulder. All sword skills were initiated by placing the weapon in a certain position and at an angle, and would activate after the appropriate charge time, unleashing an attack with boosted speed and power that finished with a preset delay time.

Most players believed the time needed, from the startup to the end of the delay, was set in stone on the system end. But in fact, the only values set in stone in the whole sequence were the charge and delay times. Everything else could be shortened with player technique. For example, if your weapon’s position and angle relative to the body’s median plane were precise enough, you could launch a sword skill while in a knockback or a jump.

Having finished the motion input before I recovered my balance, I focused on the slight vibration coming through my palms from the hilt that was now held behind my head. A flash of chromatic light and high-pitched noise typically accompanied the charging of a sword skill, so in the past, you used to be able to sense when it was complete based on visual and audio cues, but they continued after the skill engaged, so unless you used a stopwatch, there was always an element of guesswork. But while the vibration started up at the initiation of the charging time, it grew stronger in the middle of that period and vanished at the end of it. The fluctuation was very slight, but if you were able to sense that secondary function, you could anticipate the exact moment the charging time ended with considerable precision.

The soles of my boots gripped the ground, and my trunk shifted from leaning backward to forward, so I made a conscious effort to tense my left leg. If you pushed off the ground even a tenth of a second sooner than the charge time ended, the sword skill would fumble. So I waited for the vibration in my right hand to wane, dwindle…and stop.

“…!!”

With a silent cry, I pushed off my left foot at full power. The blue glow infusing my sword flashed powerfully—activation successful.

Before me, Tsuburo was potentially just about to recover from his stumble, and his greatsword was held at a halfway position. Below those fuzzy brows, his eyes were open wide with alarm. Making full use of the sword skill’s assistance, all the muscles in my body were boosted, and my sword swept through at a nearly vertical angle.

Zwash! I felt a crisp response in my wrist. I adjusted my distance so only the tip would strike home, so the force of the hit would only be two-thirds as strong, but it was certainly enough damage to count for a first-strike duel.

I waited for the post-skill delay to wear off, then stood. Tsuburo stood there with a bright red damage mark on his chest. His head was tilted back, and his eyes pointed to the upper left—at his own HP bar indicator.

I glanced at the spindle cursor above Tsuburo’s head, too. The curved HP bar was silently dropping. After going down 20 percent, then 30, then 40, I started to get nervous, but it stopped just before it dipped below 50 percent, and I could exhale at last.

“…Sorry, that was a bit more than I meant to take,” I said. That was the cue for Dikkos to snap back to reality and lift his pot and ladle for a clamorous medley. His voice nearly broke as he screeched, “It’s over! It’s over! And the winner is…Kirito!!”

After a brief silence, the clearing outside the stables filled with a tremendous roar of excitement.

“What kind of speed was that?! Was that even two seconds between his stance and the follow-through?!”

“But the range! It was just a Vertical, but he jumped as far as a Sonic Leap!”

“No, the power! He barely scratched the other guy, but look how much damage it did!”

The gallery had plenty of commentary on what they’d just seen. Meanwhile, I sheathed my sword and walked up to pat the dazed Tsuburo on the chest.

“Nice job. That initial buchikamashi was a good one.”

“……But I didn’t actually go through with it…,” Tsuburo said weakly, shaking his head. He tried to snap himself out of the disappointment by forcefully sheathing his weapon and said, “You won that duel handily, but it doesn’t change the fact that this town’s got problems. I mean, the whole reason we were having this fighting tournament in the first place is…”

“I think I’ve got the gist of it,” I said, moving to the center of the ring. I surveyed the still-buzzing audience, took a deep breath, and shouted, “I’m sorry for leaving this place unsupervised for so long!”

The crowd of over a hundred abruptly went silent.

“I’m aware of what’s happening with Ruis na Ríg! My plan is to level-up the protective effect today, but I don’t know if that will expand the range of the durability bonus effect!”

There were individual complaints from the crowd, begging me to open up more space inside the town. I waited for the heckles to die down before continuing.

“But there is another solution! At the entrance to the second tier, a new base is coming together as we speak! We’ve got a location already, and once we’re ready for the boss monster that will come for us, we’ll be putting the finishing touches on the primary structure!”

This time, the murmuring from the crowd was anticipatory, not disappointed. I shot a glance at Asuna and Silica, who were still in the front row, then finished my speech.

“The next base will be the front line for our quest to clear the game! From that point on, we have no idea what kind of terrain or monsters we’ll encounter! It’ll be much more dangerous than Ruis na Ríg, but if you’re up for the challenge, anyone is welcome to move there! If you want to join us on the second tier, let me hear you make some noise!!”

After the echoes of my voice died out, there were a few seconds of silence.

Then the entirety of Ruis na Ríg shook with a massive roar.

Raaaaaahhhh!!

And in response, Misha the thornspike cave bear poked its head out of the middle stable and joined in. “Grrraaaahhh!”