The boss chamber, which had once glowed with a warm light, was now fading little by little, as if the very air were exhaling the last breath of battle. It wasn't complete darkness: the room retained a uniform grayish glow, enough to clearly see the exhausted bodies, the weapons still trembling in the players' hands.The metallic echo of the final strike still seemed to vibrate against the walls when the shouts broke out.
—"We did it… we actually did it!"—a voice rose from the crowd, quickly joined by others, until it became a wave of jubilation.
Off to the side, near where the boss had fallen, several collapsed to their knees; exhaustion weighed heavier than joy. Kirito leaned against his sword, driven into the ground, breathing heavily; Asuna, on the other hand, remained standing, her gaze fixed on the chamber, as if she couldn't quite believe it was over. Her lips released a quiet sigh, and finally, a small smile appeared on her face.A gentle tap on her shoulder made her turn her head. Aomine was there, smiling at her sincerely, his hair tousled from battle.
—"You did well… you're really fast,"—he praised her in a friendly tone.
Applause rose again, closer this time. Michael, with his usual energy, strode forward in long steps to congratulate the group.
—"That was thrilling and spectacular. The way you attacked in sync… it was like you'd known each other for years."He paused dramatically and flashed a mischievous grin.—"Are you two a couple, by any chance?"
Both Kirito and Asuna flushed instantly. Nervousness made them both speak at the same time in a rushed mumble no one understood. Their eyes met for a brief second, red with embarrassment.
—"Don't tease them like that, Michael,"—Gundou cut in with a short laugh.—"They did well. Their speed and recklessness… with a touch of madness, it worked."
—"I'd call it stupidity in every sense,"—a female voice chimed in from the back, pointing toward the front.—"Especially if this lunatic on the field was the one calling the shots."
—"That stings a bit, you know? I'm not a lunatic; I'm patient and analytical,"—Aomine defended himself with a half-smile.
—"Yeah, yeah…"—Historia waved her hands, dismissing it with a light gesture.
Aomine clicked his tongue, glancing sideways at the white-haired one.
—"Tsk… putting that aside, I was surprised you faced the boss alone. After all, with Diabel's death, we were all panicking,"—he said, shifting his gaze to the black-haired boy.
At those words, the players standing nearby—Gundou, Sakuragui, Michael, Historia, Elsa, and Asuna—turned their eyes toward Kirito. He swallowed hard, nervous, and offered a shy, almost embarrassed smile.
—"Well… if there was nothing left to do, it's better to go all in or die doing nothing, right?"—Kirito said, adjusting his sword.
—"Yeah, you're right. My mind was clouded, I couldn't think straight. But when I saw you, you gave me hope to find a weak point… and that point worked out even better thanks to the other last-minute card—Asuna."—Aomine spoke with his hands, emphasizing each phrase; at the end, he pointed toward the young girl.
Elsa nodded with a weary expression. Beside her, Keyki arrived with his health bar in the red, drinking a potion until it turned yellow and letting out a long sigh.
—"You're a really good strategist, I have to admit it."—Kirito lifted his head and looked at him directly—. "You weakened the boss, you came up with the plan against the Kobold Sentinels, and in the end you jumped in out of nowhere to cut off its arm. Though… I felt like someone was right behind me during the fight."
—"Yeah… the truth is, I started moving closer when I saw Gundou slowing down in protecting you. I left my area and created my own risky play. The result: a huge disadvantage, leaving the others without guidance… but with the reward of defeating the boss. A fifty-fifty."—Aomine explained calmly, though his hands still trembled at the memory of the tension.
Michael watched them, his smile soft, like someone enjoying the closeness of comrades after a storm. He was about to speak with enthusiasm when a voice slashed through the air like a blade.
—"Why…?! Why did you let Diabel die?!"
The scream froze the noise instantly. Every gaze turned toward the corner where a group sat apart, carrying both tears and rage. Some covered their faces, others clenched their fists. Among them, one stood out: his brow furrowed, eyes filled with hatred and tears streaking down his cheeks. It was Kibaou.
—"Let him die? What are you talking about, Kibaou-san?"—Aomine asked, startled.
—"Tsk… isn't it obvious? While Diabel handed over command of the squad strategy and went in to attack, that guy over there shouted the skill the boss was going to use!"—he pointed furiously at Kirito—. "He knew, I saw it myself! Don't try to deny it!"
His voice cracked, full of frustration. Kirito stared at him in disbelief, as if the words weren't fully sinking in. Michael tried to step forward.
—"Kibaou-san… even though Diabel's death hurts me as much as it hu—"
—"Shut up, Michael… just shut up!"—Kibaou cut him off, his rage mixing with a pleading tone, like that of a betrayed friend—. "I know very well you'll be on his side. Don't stir up more disputes. I saw your personality back at the party, and when you bowed your head against me. I accepted you as an ex-beta tester because Diabel asked it of me… because I accepted you as a friend. But now… he knew more than you. He knew this would happen, and he kept the information to himself…"
The words made him fragile, but rage held him upright. Michael stepped forward again, but Kibaou stopped him with a heavy stomp that echoed through the chamber. The sound made everyone hold their breath.
Kibaou raised his arm, his accusing finger trembling, and aimed it straight at Kirito, filled with resentment and hatred.
Kibaou's words echoed through the chamber like metallic clangs.The massive boss room, now emptied of monsters, felt colder and larger than before. The torches along the walls flickered, casting long shadows that tangled across the stone floor.
On the side nearest the door, Diabel's group exchanged tense glances.In the center, the other players formed a loose semicircle, their weapons still dangling from their hands.On the far side, near the spot where the hidden staircase would soon appear, stood Kirito, Asuna, Sakuragui, Elsa, Historia, Michael, Aomine, and Keyki.
At first, it was nothing more than scattered murmurs, barely audible—but they spread like sparks in dry grass:
"Now that I think about it… he's right.""Yeah… it does make sense.""How could he even know that?""It wasn't in the guide.""Don't tell me everything was a lie?""But… wasn't the boss info supposed to be from the beta?"
Suspicion rippled outward like an unseen wave.
"But you can't just say that! He helped us—without him we'd be dead!" Egiru protested, his voice trembling, shattering the growing buzz for an instant.
Yet the speculation kept spreading. Each guess fed the next, as though the very air itself urged the crowd toward paranoia. On the far side, those standing with Kirito began to sweat, their nerves pulled tight as they felt the hostility thickening around them.
"This is getting heavier by the second," Aomine muttered under his breath.
Historia, arms crossed, observed the shifting crowd with unsettling calm."The right words will always push people to find their own ideology," she said, almost as if she were narrating the scene for herself.
(Damn it… just when things were finally settling down), Michael thought, jaw clenched tight.
And then a shout split the air like shattering glass. Every head whipped toward the source.
A player with pale sky-blue hair, shaded almost silver, stood at the heart of the central group. A faint beard traced his chin and reached his sideburns. Sweat trickled down his temples as his trembling finger pointed directly at Kirito. His voice dripped desperation:
"That's it! He must be a former beta tester!" the man bellowed, each word sharper than the last. "That's how he knew all the boss's attack patterns! That woman with him must be one too! They already knew all the good quests, all the hunting grounds with rare drops on the first floor—yet they've been hiding it and deceiving us all along!"
The accusations reverberated in the chamber, blending with the crackling torches. Most of the players in the center turned toward Asuna now, their suspicion spreading like a plague.
The man pressed on, his eyes burning with feverish intensity, his voice rising higher and higher:
"That guide—that so-called information broker, Argo—she's been feeding us lies! She's another beta tester! There's no way she'd give us that info for free! That means there must be even more of them here! Besides the one who was Diabel's so-called friend! Am I right?! Beta testers! Show yourselves!"
When his rant finally ended, the hall sank into a suffocating silence. Each second dragged by, heavy as lead. Even the hiss and crackle of the torches seemed distant.
Michael tried to speak, but the words caught in his throat. Aomine, however, wasn't nearly as shaken. His eyes were fixed on the accuser—not with fear, but with cold analysis.
(Those desperate words… they aren't normal. It's like he wanted to say them. As if by design.)
But then, the silence fractured in the most unexpected way.
It began as a whisper, then a stifled breath—until it bloomed into laughter.
The voices of the players reverberated through the vast boss chamber, a harsh echo clashing against the blackened stone walls. The heat of the torches wavered in the air, sketching long shadows across the cracked floor. Kibaou and his group lingered closest to the door, their eyes brimming with suspicion; the rest of the players formed a scattered circle in the middle of the hall, murmuring like a restless swarm. And on the far end, near the yet-hidden staircase, Aomine, Asuna, Sakuragui, Elsa, Historia, Michael, and Keyki stood in silence—drawn taut like bowstrings.
"A beta tester, you said?"The voice that cut through the noise was cold, precise, like a blade of steel.
The words came from the eye of the storm: Kirito, the black-haired boy who had been silent until now. Those around him turned in surprise, as did the rest of the chamber. His tone carried neither defense nor plea; it sounded instead like the start of a verdict.
Kirito stepped forward slowly, peeling away from Asuna and the others. Each footfall across the stone floor made the torches flicker. His eyes, hidden beneath his bangs, glimmered with a light that did not belong to the system.
"I'd rather you not lump me in with those amateurs," he said, his voice tinged with disdain. "You're wrong. That girl there was only following my orders… or perhaps acting on impulse. Call her a prodigy, if you will. As Kayaba Akihiko himself said, there will be prodigies and there will be geniuses—it depends on where they stand. If she could keep up with me, then she must be one. Otherwise, she'd have failed like anyone else. Most of the players who got into SAO's beta… were rookies who didn't even know how to level up."
As he spoke, he moved deliberately to a spot where everyone could see him clearly, distancing himself from the group he had stood with before. Each step carved an invisible line of separation.
"Even you lot are better than they were," he finished.
"What did you just say?" Kibaou growled, his brow furrowed in disbelief.
Kirito lifted his head, his gaze sharp as a blade.
"But I'm not like them. During the beta, I was one of the two players who reached levels higher than anyone else could touch. The reason I knew the boss's sword skills? Because I'd already fought countless monsters using those very skills on floors far above this one. I know far more than you can imagine. Your little information brokers? They're nothing compared to me."
His voice rose, reverberating through the chamber. The arrogance in his expression was like a mask—every word spoken not to build bridges, but to burn them.
Across the hall, beside Aomine and Asuna, the reactions surfaced in murmurs.
"He's not doing a bad job," Historia remarked, narrowing her eyes.
"To play the villain just to protect someone… reminds me of a certain person," Aomine muttered under his breath.
"He looks ready to walk that path of being hated," Gundou added with a weary scowl.
Elsa's eyes softened with pity; Keyki, stunned, couldn't bring himself to speak. Sakuragui turned away, unable to watch.
(…I'm scared…) Sakuragui thought, nails digging into his palm.
"Why…?" Asuna whispered to herself, with no expectation of an answer.
Kibaou trembled with rage at Kirito's words. His fists clenched tight, his eyes blazing with hatred.
"W-What the hell did you just say? You're worse than a beta tester! That's cheating! You're a cheater, that's what you are!"
The accusation cracked like a whip. Others picked it up, the tension swelling into a wave:
"Yeah, you're a cheater!""A beta tester and a cheater… a beater!""Damn beater, tricking us like that!""Are all the other beta testers the same?""Filthy beater, hoarding all the info for yourself!"
The air thickened, heavy enough to choke. The rain of accusations and curses filled the chamber like a storm. In the middle of it all, Kirito stood unmoving—untouched.
Asuna started forward, but Aomine laid a hand on her shoulder. She looked up, finding only a grave expression in his eyes—an unspoken refusal. This wasn't the time to intervene.
Kirito's lips curved into the faintest smile, as though he had just found the name he needed.
"A 'beater'… That's a good one. Fine. I'm a beater. From now on, don't confuse me with those useless, pathetic beta testers."
His voice dripped with irony as he tapped his character stats. His fingers moved steadily, selecting an item from his inventory. When he equipped it, a flash of blue light ran up his body from toe to crown. System particles shimmered around him like crystals before fading away. The beginner's jacket dissolved into fragments of light, replaced by something entirely different.
A long coat of deep black—so dark it seemed to swallow the torchlight. At first glance it resembled worked leather, yet to the touch it carried the lightness of fabric reinforced by the system. It fell to his knees, its cut opening at the sides so as not to hinder movement. Metal clasps gleamed faintly, fastening the coat snugly to his lean frame, while its sleeves tapered into the dark gloves he already wore. A tall, rigid collar rose up, obscuring part of his face in shadow, giving him a distant, almost commanding presence. Every seam, every fold, looked designed for a single purpose: to shape him into a silhouette that merged with the darkness itself.
When he stepped forward, the coat billowed faintly, like black wings spreading in silence. The murmurs in the chamber died at once.
"I'll be unlocking the teleport gate to the second floor," he announced, his voice slicing through the tension. "From the outer exit, you'll have to cross the field to reach the main plaza. So if you follow me… be ready to be slaughtered by a mob the moment they see you."
His words, colder than before, hung in the air. Only the sound of his boots striking stone broke the silence as he advanced, passing Michael, who glared at him in frustration. Gundou and Elsa lowered their gazes in quiet sorrow; Keyki hesitated, while Historia leaned back against a pillar, closing her eyes as if to let it all pass.
Aomine removed his hand from Asuna's shoulder just as Kirito walked by her, flashing her a brief smile. Aomine caught it, unsure whether it was farewell or challenge. Kirito's footsteps grew faint, swallowed by the immensity of the hall.
Michael exhaled sharply before moving toward Kibaou to speak. The man huffed, but relented. The rest of the players began gathering; Michael was still trusted despite being a former tester. Historia and Elsa followed suit. Keyki slipped away to fetch Yuna, who waited outside the boss room.
Only Aomine remained beside Asuna and Sakuragui, eyes fixed on the doorway through which Kirito had vanished.
(This world just became more real… and that bothers me) he thought with a scornful huff, refusing to look away.
The echo of Kirito's last footsteps faded into the dungeon's gloom.The silence, heavy and thick, lingered over everyone like an invisible mist.
...
December 29, 2022. Aincrad, Floor 4.
The city awoke to the constant murmur of players and NPCs crossing the cobblestone streets. Makeshift stalls, taut canvas tents, and sturdy adobe shops brought life to a chaotic yet vibrant marketplace. The scents of warm bread, freshly forged metal, and virtual spices mingled with the floor's cold air.
Inside one of those shops, the morning light filtered through a narrow window. Within those shafts of light, a slow flutter of eyelids betrayed someone's awakening. A soft groan broke the stillness of the room before the figure sat up in bed and stretched, messy hair falling across their face.
They wore a tunic and pants of a deep sky–indigo shade, soft to the touch yet as durable as tanned leather. Subtle lines in the fabric caught glimmers of light, like stars scattered across a dark night. The three-quarter-sleeved tunic clung to the chest with a simple cord; the V-neck revealed just the base of the throat. The pants, loose and tied at the ankles with a thin strap, offered freedom of movement—perfect for a traveler who needed to be ready for action at any moment.
Outside, the market bells rang, marking the start of another day in Aincrad.
[It's been a few months… no, exactly twenty-seven days since we managed to reach the fourth floor].
That's what I was thinking as I finished changing. The night tunic lay across the bed, and now I wore something more fitting for the time of day: a light sky-blue linen shirt, cool and comfortable, over which rested a somewhat worn brown leather vest. My gray pants, practical as ever, were tucked into sturdy boots that reached halfway up my calves. I rubbed my eyes, letting out a loud yawn, my blond hair messy, with black-tipped strands that still seemed trapped in the haze of sleep.
[After defeating the floor one boss, Asuna began traveling with Kirito. I can't say I felt jealous or anything like that… it just surprised me. Especially because Sakuragui only said a quick "see you later" and nothing more. I saw her try to reach out her arm, as if wanting to stop her, but in the end she didn't manage to.After that victory, Michael's guild became quite popular. He, as the leader, is always busy… though in truth he does everything he can to sneak away and have fun with us. The day before yesterday, Kibaou announced he had found the floor four boss room, so today, with the time already half past twelve, I suppose there's about an hour and a half left until the confrontation.On the other hand, for Michael the best news was that Sakuragui officially agreed to join the team. Now we're five women against four men. Yeah, we're losing in every possible sense].
With that thought, I left the room. Some players greeted me as I passed; I returned the gesture with a slight nod and kept walking. Michael usually leaves me in charge of almost everything related to paperwork and the financial side. I always tell him that's not my job, it's his, but he always manages to talk me into doing it… and I'm sick of it.
I descended the stairs until I reached the first floor. To my left was a hallway leading to a door; I pushed it open, and it revealed a wide, rustic dining hall with polished wooden tables and the tempting smell of freshly made food. There, sitting in front of a plate, I recognized a familiar figure. I rubbed my eyes and raised my hand.
"Good morning, Sakuragui."
She lifted her gaze just for a moment, her expression calm but with a hint of mockery on her lips.
"Good afternoon. It's already past noon, you know?" she corrected, before taking another bite of her meal.
The dining hall smelled of broth and freshly baked bread; the light streaming through the shop window lit up tiny motes of dust that drifted lazily in the air. Outside, the city kept its usual rhythm: vendors hawking their wares, horse hooves clattering in the distance, laughter slipping through narrow streets. Inside, the atmosphere was more intimate, though no less tense. Guild gossip, the expectation around the Floor 4 gate, and the aftermath of the last raid pressed silently into the wood of the tables.
Aomine dropped into a chair intending to eat quickly before returning to the paperwork that always seemed to multiply. Across from him Sakuragui returned his look; her eyes, cold as burnished steel, narrowed with that hint of sarcasm she often used. A brief ritual of barbs took place between them: jabs, cutting replies, that kind of verbal roughness that, despite everything, felt familiar.
—It's still early. It's an MMO RPG, not a place where you pick your own adventure whenever you want— he defended himself.
Sakuragui's reply was a grimace that couldn't completely hide the sting of truth behind her words; Aomine opened his mouth to retort, but she didn't give him the chance.
—If it's early for you every day in here, someone outside is wasting their life— she shot back.
The remark landed with an almost philosophical tone and, for a second, the dining room seemed to pause: virtual reality allowed flexible hours, but real life —the one many of them longed for— continued out there, invading every thought.
—Yeah, yeah, Mito-san— he said, mocking.
The jeer was a light cut; Aomine let out a short snicker and began to get comfortable to eat. Then the balance of the scene shattered in a brutal-seeming gesture: a knife appeared against his throat, cold and precise, a strip of metal glinting in the rectangle of light on the table.
Aomine swallowed; the bite he was bringing to his mouth froze halfway down his throat. He looked at Sakuragui with a forced smile, hands raised in a clumsy, suspicious surrender.
—Okay, sorry, all right— he said nervously. —I was only trying to tease, not to put you on the defensive—
The blade kept tracing his skin, close but controlled; it wasn't just intimidation—it carried a message. Sakuragui pressed her lips together; the tension in her jaw was palpable. Her eyes were two cold wells; the edge seemed like a clause marking limits.
—Only Asuna can call me by my name, and you haven't earned that right—she said, threateningly but awkwardly— I mean… Sakuragui.
The attempt to correct her own name sounded like a warning disguised as a clumsy joke. Aomine's laughter vanished quickly. He tried to steer the conversation back with curiosity, trying to prevent it from sliding into something darker.
—Okay...! Do you know where the others are? —Aomine asked, curious.
Sakuragui let the blade drop a fraction, its tip still grazing the tabletop. Her fingers left a faint mark on the edge; a bead of sweat on her temple showed she was more uncomfortable than she let on.
—They didn't tell you? —she asked, looking at him.
The question had an edge, and Aomine felt momentarily unmoored.
—Huh? —he replied, confused.
Sakuragui exhaled, a flush of secondhand embarrassment crossing her cheeks for a moment before hardening again.
—They left an hour ago to fight the Floor 4 boss. Right now they should be facing it alongside Kibaou-san and other group members. They said you had to stay behind to do the paperwork that was piling up— she reported, a few drops of sweat and a hint of awkward shame in her voice.
The sentence hit like a bucket of cold water. A dry sound echoed in the room: someone in a corner slammed a fist on wood. It was an instinctive, almost animal reaction. Sakuragui fixed her gaze on the door; from her expression you could tell she was waiting, a tangle of hope and fear you feel when every passing second might bring bad news. Then she looked back at Aomine.
Her composure broke. Where there had been restraint, a shadow spread across her face: the look of someone suddenly standing at the edge of an abyss.
(If he dies, I hope it's because —when you come back, MICHAEL— I'll kill you.) she thought, her eyes full of rancor and doubt.
The thought was a blade she didn't voice but which cut deep into the room's atmosphere. It was a cold promise—not addressed to Aomine personally, but to the idea that Michael's habit of slipping away had a price.
Sakuragui lowered her gaze for an instant; her eyelids fell like a curtain. Then, with a nearly natural but purposeful movement, she turned her eyes away from Aomine. She wouldn't hold his gaze; the physical distance echoed the emotional distance she preferred to keep.
"And why didn't you go?" she asked, letting her moment of anger slip away.
Aomine's voice came out lower than before, as if traces of rage still clung to her throat. The spoon in her hand trembled slightly before she set it down on the plate. Her gaze sought Sakuragui's, but she didn't react immediately. Instead, she gently blew on the surface of the broth, the steam brushing her face and making her eyes glimmer faintly.
Without changing her tone, she took a small sip of the soup and swallowed it calmly, as if wanting her answer to carry a firmer weight.
"Asuna was going to be there with her partner," she replied evenly.
Her lips remained neutral, yet her eyes drifted for a moment toward some unseen point on the plate. The spoon hovered over the bowl, her fingers holding the handle with a deliberate softness.
Aomine swallowed, lowering her gaze a little. She scratched the back of her neck awkwardly, as if trying to disperse the discomfort that had suddenly settled between them.
"Oh… I see," she said, then fell silent.
The murmur of the dining hall filled the void left by their voices: the clatter of dishes, the distant chatter of other players, and the smell of warm bread and spices. Aomine cupped the mug in her hands, turning it slowly without taking a sip.
(Their separation must have been hard—I could tell by the way they said goodbye back on the first floor. But that's not something I can interfere with… besides, I'd probably feel the same if my companions weren't here, or if we were split apart. That will never happen, but I understand her situation.)
Her eyes grew hazy for a second as she watched Sakuragui slowly move her spoon, tracing circles in the broth as though she too were seeking distraction. Her right shoulder twitched slightly, a small, nearly imperceptible motion, as if the subject weighed on her more than she was willing to admit.
The silence between them was no longer sharp as before, but heavy—thick with unspoken thoughts. The wooden table creaked softly as Aomine leaned her elbows on it and let out a faint sigh.
Aomine decided to return to his own business. For him, even though it was already late and the system clock marked lunchtime, it was still breakfast. Calmly, he took the still-warm bread and placed it on his tray, his gaze wandering out the window of the dining room. From that angle he could see the enormous tower rising like a gray-blue colossus on the horizon—the only gateway to the next floor. The reflection of the digital sun slid across its stone walls, casting almost lifelike flashes across his face.
Meanwhile, at the base of that same tower, the passageways stretched in silence. There were no monsters, no echoes of combat—only a tense air that crawled between the walls like an omen. The stairs ascended toward a massive door, heavy and imposing, yet its surface gleamed with bright colors. A warning flickered above it: "Boss trial in progress."
Two players were waiting there. A girl with light brown hair, tied back in loose strands, adjusted her guitar with slender fingers, her expression calm and serene. Beside her, pressed almost against the door, a hooded figure in a mustard cloak kept a crooked smile before pressing the "interrupt trial" button. The metallic sound rang out. The doors burst open, and a surge of water shot forth, flooding the ground like an unexpected tide. The boss's stage unfolded before them.
The interior was overwhelming. Vibrant shades of ocean blue and sky-colored light illuminated the towering columns, each crowned with flickering blue fire that hummed with a low murmur. At the very center rose the creature of a forgotten myth. Its body was that of a magnificent steed, muscular, its coat so white it seemed to glow beneath the otherworldly light. Crimson eyes pierced the shadows like burning blades, radiating a hostility impossible to ignore.
But this was no mere horse. From its mane burst a crystalline current of bluish energy, like frozen water set aflame, flowing wildly in untamed power. Coiled around it, an aquatic dragon shimmered with scales that reflected hues of blue and red—fragments of a bloody ocean. Its gaping jaws revealed fangs sharp enough to tear steel, its predatory gaze fixed squarely on the intruders.
The monster did not look like a simple beast. It was an unnatural fusion of several mythical entities, a guardian born between majesty and horror. Each step it took made the walls tremble, as though announcing the judgment of those who dared to defy it. In front of it, a group of five players watched in tense silence. A little to the right, two more players stood apart, whispering as they timed their preparations.
"This got out of hand… and it's your fault," muttered a male voice, his sword trembling in his hands as he swallowed hard.
"Well, I didn't think leading and organizing a team would be this hard. Aomine makes it look so easy," another admitted, his white armor glinting as he gave a nervous smile, pointing his sword forward for courage.
"Yeah, but he's worked hard since the guild started growing, all the way up to now, when he still comes to help us beat the bosses. He deserves a day off," added another, resting his shield against his forehead, trying to sound optimistic.
"If a day off means drowning in paperwork, I can already imagine him yelling at us for leaving it behind. And Michael will probably get a full speech about what a leader should be doing instead," a female voice chimed in with sarcasm, one eyebrow arched.
"It's always fun to watch, though. You enjoy that, don't you, Historia?" another girl teased with a smile, daggers in her hands, clearly trying to break the tension.
The two players standing apart glanced at each other nervously, exchanging quick looks.
"They're always so full of energy, that group. Ever since Floor 2, they've drawn attention with the way they fight," one of them commented with a faint chuckle, almost tinged with envy.
"Yeah… though I have to admit, Aomine's guidance wouldn't be bad right now. Beta tester or not, the way he positions groups and strikes at places no one else can… it's unique. He's a genius at that," the other said, his pride stung, yet his words were sincere.
"He can't help all the time. There are moments when people need to carry on themselves. Besides, he's been fighting on the front lines with us since Floor 1. Skipping just one floor doesn't seem that bad," a firm female voice said, an epee gripped tightly in her hand.
"You're absolutely right. But still, you can feel the difference when he's around. It's like having a beacon—someone who can give you advice or guide your strike. It's like a vision item. Even back on Floor 3, he helped you, Asuna, from falling to that medusa boss that hypnotized players," Kirito replied, his voice low but filled with recognition.
The columns groaned, and the water on the ground shimmered with reflections of blue fire. The monster remained motionless, watching. The air reeked of ozone—thick with the tension before battle.
Asuna and Kirito launched themselves at the boss in unison. Their swords traced gleaming arcs through the air while the others watched from behind, holding their breath. The group hesitated as they saw them rush so far ahead, but it was too late to warn them.
The monster lifted its head. Its tense neck vibrated like a bowstring on the verge of snapping. The steed's cheeks swelled grotesquely, a clear sign of an incoming attack. And when it opened its mouth, the sound was like a cannon blast: a torrent of pressurized water erupted toward them, spiraling and twisting to sweep across the battlefield.
Kirito and Asuna tried to dodge, but the stream was unpredictable—it slithered like a living thing. At the last moment, their paths crossed; they collided shoulder to shoulder and tumbled to the ground, gasping. The boss was already charging its attack again, its throat rumbling with a liquid roar.
"Move!" Gundou shouted hoarsely, raising his shield in front of them.
The water struck like a hammer. Gundou staggered back a step, his arm muscles trembling as he bore the pressure. Asuna and Kirito understood the signal and rolled aside, just in time. The shield cracked; Gundou was hurled several meters, dragged by the stream that pooled beneath him. His HP bar dipped into yellow, then scraped the red.
The boss, distracted, roared. An arrow pierced one of its eyes with a wet snap. The beast reared up, enraged, but both its forelegs were severed at once—Keyki on the left, Michael on the right, striking in perfect sync. The steed staggered, trying to rise on its hind legs, but another shadow leapt from behind: Elsa, her mouth covered like a ninja, twin daggers gleaming like fangs.
The boss turned its head, but all it saw were two swords crossing before its only good eye. Kirito and Asuna struck together, piercing through. Its HP bar plummeted, and in a burst of color, the creature exploded into particles that scattered like stars.
The message floated above them as shouts of victory filled the chamber. Kirito and Asuna, exhausted, exchanged a look and slapped their hands together, smiling faintly as they caught their breath. But suddenly, two strong arms wrapped around them from behind, pulling them together like children.
"You two are as amazing as ever!" exclaimed a cheerful, booming voice.
"And your congratulations get stronger every time…" Kirito groaned, half-crushed.
"It's… a little embarrassing, Michael-san…" Asuna murmured, flustered by the hug.
"So then, what have you decided? Do you want to join my grou—?" Michael asked with a radiant smile.
"Sorry, I can't," Kirito replied instantly.
"Thanks, but I think I'll keep advancing this way," Asuna added.
Michael reacted as if he'd been stabbed. He released them, clutching his chest dramatically in mock agony. Keyki approached and, without hesitation, kicked him in the leg to snap him out of it. Elsa laughed openly at the leader's theatrics, while Historia just shook her head, used to seeing Michael put on this act every time someone turned down his invitation.
Outside, at the entrance to the boss chamber, Yuna had approached two players who were stuck against the wooden railings. She held her pencil between her fingers and poked Kibaou's cheek with the tip, as if testing his patience. He looked ready to explode. Beside him, a blue-haired player argued heatedly with him, both still drenched from the attack that had flung them across the room. A vein throbbed angrily on Kibaou's temple while Yuna remained unfazed, idly prodding his face with her pencil.
December 22, 2022 – Aincrad, Floor Five: Karlun
The dark night stretched out beneath a gentle wind, while an artificial sky studded with stars covered the heavens in a deceptively serene glow. On the mountainside, the city seemed to grow straight out of the rock itself: tiered houses stacked one over another drew an irregular yet majestic silhouette. From every window spilled a warm golden light, like hundreds of embers breathing in the shadows, giving the city a living, almost pulsing aura.
Higher up, towers and walls loomed as imposing silhouettes, silently watching from above—eternal guardians of a realm bound in steel and dreams. At their feet, between stone alleys and narrow plazas, a night market thrived with energy. Canopies of deep red fluttered lightly in the breeze, glowing under lanterns that painted the air with orange sparks. Voices, murmurs, and laughter intertwined with the crackle of torches, drawing a vivid contrast between the stillness of the night and the vibrancy of urban life.
It was a scene that felt timeless, as though the flow of time itself had chosen to stop, trapped in the fragile harmony of light.
Closer in, a restaurant with a terrace stood out. Its walls and battlements resembled a small fortress, while its interior radiated a warm, welcoming atmosphere. The NPCs bustled in the kitchen preparing meats, while players filled the tables with food and drink.
At one of those tables, a young blond-haired man with black-tipped locks raised a wooden beer mug and took a long gulp. He set it down with a solid thud.
"Fuaa! Nothing beats good-quality booze," he declared cheerfully.
"That makes four mugs already… You sure you're okay? Don't go overboard," the female voice across from him spoke with a raised eyebrow—half scolding, half concerned.
"Eh? Well, I finally finished all the paperwork and sorted out the items for the next raids. Besides, if it bothered you that much, you could've declined my invitation, Sakuragui," his tone was tired, yet relaxed.
"I had the chance to go somewhere else, but that would've been boring. And honestly, I've gotten used to hearing you talk all the time, Aomine," Sakuragui explained, raising a finger with a faint smile.
"That's flattering. I'm surprised you opened up so fast; at first, whether it was quests or just walking with us, you kept your distance… but when it came to paying for meals, you stuck like gum," Aomine teased, taking another sip.
"It's not normal for me to stick with groups all the time. I… had some issues with that in the past…" her voice grew lower, trailing off.
Seeing her like that, Aomine ordered another beer. He turned his head to call for it, but when he glanced back, Sakuragui's chair was empty. Puzzled, he heard approaching footsteps behind him. Turning, he saw two figures.
"Good evening, Aomine-san. Looks like you're drinking alone," a male voice greeted.
"Good evening, Aomine-kun. Sorry to intrude—mind if we sit with you?" a female voice asked, calm but carrying a subtle edge of irritation.
"Good evening to you too, Kirito-san, Asuna-san. Out for dinner at this hour as well?" Aomine replied.
"Honestly, we would've come earlier, but we had some matters to deal with… ones that still aren't completely resolved," Kirito admitted.
Asuna sat down in the seat Sakuragui had vacated, while Kirito took the spot beside Aomine. The blond glanced at them in silence, catching a hint of tension in Asuna's eyes. When his drink arrived, he raised the mug and drank slowly.
(She left me alone… with this mood. What a bad friend.) he grumbled inwardly.
He stopped drinking and set his mug down on the table, noticing the weight in the air. The tension was palpable: Asuna kept her eyes closed, her expression seemed serene, but one only needed to look closer to know it wasn't. That alone was a clear sign.
"Well then, to celebrate reaching the fifth floor… cheers!" Kirito raised his mug with a forced smile, trying to break the silence.
Asuna didn't respond. Her mug stayed motionless on the table, untouched, leaving Kirito awkwardly frozen with his still raised. Out of pity, Aomine decided to intervene: he lifted his own mug and clinked it against Kirito's, at least offering him a gesture of camaraderie.
The dry sound of the toast echoed, but almost at the same time, a third clash rang out. A new female voice cut into the scene:
"Cheers!"
Aomine and Kirito turned their heads, surprised, to find the owner of the mug that had intruded on their awkward celebration.
She was a young girl, shorter than most—shorter even than Aomine, and he wasn't that tall for his age. She carried an aura that screamed adventure, dusty roads, and danger. Her hair, a honey-blond so light it almost glowed, was cut unevenly, rebellious strands ending in jagged tips. What stood out most were the cat ears of the same color, peeking boldly from her crown, twitching ever so slightly.
Her outfit was simple and practical: loose pants and a matching earth-brown jacket, held together by a thick belt that surely hid weapons or pouches. Over it, a beige hooded cloak draped down, covering much of her figure, giving her the look of a seasoned traveler.
Her compact build radiated steadiness; her posture spoke of someone used to action. Her arms, bandaged from elbow to wrist, left only her hands bare. With her right raised, she still held the mug that had just clashed with Aomine's. On her lively, daring face, two dark triangles marked her cheeks, giving her a wild edge. And that broad, carefree grin—almost reckless—belonged to someone who knew no fear.
She was the first to drink, downing her mug in one go, while Aomine only sighed, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. Kirito, resigned, also brought his to his lips.
"…Cheers," Asuna finally said, her tone flat.
"You know… you always pop up behind me every second, don't you?" Aomine spoke irritably, frowning.
The girl tilted her head, her expression somewhere between coy and playful.
"Oh, come on, Mine-Boy. Always so serious. You should loosen up. Around other players you're fun… or do you just have something against me?" she leaned back, lacing her hands behind her head as if she weren't intruding on a table drenched in tension.
"With someone who plays the shadowy informant and would sell even the tiniest scrap of information for money… forgive me for having the sense to be aware of your danger," Aomine replied with sarcasm, never taking his eyes off her.
She didn't hear his last words; instead, she leaned forward and drank cheerfully until her mug was empty. When she finished, she lifted her head with a satisfied gesture, foam glistening faintly on her lips, her face painted with a look of smug contentment.
"Hey, miss! Another one!" she called out loudly, raising the empty mug toward one of the NPC waitresses weaving between tables.
The inn buzzed with the clatter of plates and the chatter of players. The scent of freshly baked bread and spiced meat hung in the air, mingling with the warmth of the fireplace burning at the back.
"You were a big help with that boss raid, Argo," Kirito said gratefully, his words accompanied by a small, friendly smile. His fingers drummed lightly on the table, still restless from the leftover adrenaline of the battle.
Argo smirked like a cat, twirling her mug once before setting it gently on the wood.
"Since I had the chance to include a warning in my strategy guide about the boss room flooding… it was the least I could do," she replied, slipping naturally into the last empty chair at the table as though it had belonged to her all along. Her cat ears twitched slightly as she settled down.
Kirito tilted his head, recalling the dungeon scene. He scratched the back of his neck, a little embarrassed.
"To be honest, I was sure Aomine would be there this time. He's always the one boosting the odds of saving people without risking too much… but when I didn't see him, I had to improvise a bit. I called you, but I thought you'd turn me down." His voice dropped on the last part, almost muttered as if to himself.
Argo raised an eyebrow, letting out a snort of laughter before leaning forward over the table, winking playfully.
"No need to say it—my invoice will be arriving at your message box later! I was surprised too, but when I heard Mine-Boy wouldn't be there, I got a little excited. What would a raid be like without the brain behind the past floors? Total coordination disaster… but fun, in its own messy way." She turned her head to look directly at Aomine, who had been sitting in silence.
Aomine felt both their gazes and swallowed discreetly. His hand tightened around his mug, spinning it slowly as the liquid inside swirled into a tiny whirlpool.
(Even I get sick of being mentioned every five seconds… I'm not some item that boosts stats, you know? Still, Argo's info is actually efficient; unlike my companions, who were ex–beta testers but didn't bother analyzing anything back then. They only remember Floor 1 and 2, and the rest they just speedran. I only joined after they'd already cleared the game… so I was basically walking around random floors. I didn't think much of it. If I'd known I'd be trapped here, I would've mapped every single floor myself. But now there's a more pressing problem… I forgot I left all my kuros behind. How am I supposed to pay for this dinner?)
As his thoughts spiraled, a faint cold sweat appeared on his temple. He lifted the mug and drank slowly, trying to mask his nervousness amid the lively chatter flowing around the table.
The warm glow of the tavern's lamps reflected on the mugs and plates covering the table. The smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air. Argo, her hood slightly slipped down over her shoulders, chewed energetically as she spoke, crumbs falling carelessly onto the tablecloth.
"Putting that aside… clearing the fourth floor took us about a week, huh? We advanced faster than I thought," she commented before stuffing another piece of bread into her mouth.
Kirito, sitting with his elbow resting on the table, spun his mug in a distracted gesture."Considering the first floor took a whole month to clear…" he remarked in a calm tone, though he raised his eyebrows, surprised at the progress.
Argo swallowed and smirked, leaning back."If we keep up this pace, we might reach the sixth floor before the year ends."
Kirito let out a small laugh and waved his hand dismissively."That would take a miracle, there are only two days left before the year ends."
Argo narrowed her eyes mischievously, looking to provoke."Who knows, maybe the sub-leader of Aincrad's Liberation Army could pull it off," she said, forcing Aomine into the conversation.
Aomine set his mug down on the table and spoke in a flat tone, cutting through the air."Uhmm… I don't know anything. All boss raids are decided by Michael or Kibaou. I'm just the strategist who helps out. And even if I did have information, it's not like I'd say it here, considering you're not part of my guild. We're just friends… or battle companions." He ended quickly, making it clear he didn't want more questions.
Silence stretched for a moment. All eyes shifted to Asuna. She kept her eyes closed, breathing deeply. At first glance she seemed calm, but her furrowed brows drew an expression of restrained anger.
"Asuna-san?" Kirito asked cautiously.
"It wasn't simultaneous," she replied, without opening her eyes.
"Eh? What wasn't?" Kirito asked, confused.
Asuna opened her eyes and looked at him with a hint of bitterness."Isn't it obvious… that last attack bonus!"
"Oh… uh… well…" Kirito tried to reply, shrugging.
Asuna downed her drink in one go, slamming the mug onto the table as she finished. She leaned toward him, closing into his space, her voice annoyed."That last move… our sword skills landed at the same time, and you know it!" she complained, glaring at him.
"Y-yeah, fine…" Kirito replied, a little uneasy.
"And that gives you the right to the bonus because…?" she pressed, demanding an answer.
"Uh… well…" Kirito lowered his gaze.
Suddenly, a loud thud on the table made everyone turn their heads. Aomine had finished his mug and captured everyone's attention.
"In this game, it's not just about speed or who strikes first, but also about the character's level stats," he explained calmly, almost like a tired teacher. "You both might've landed the strike at the same time, but raising your character's stats through a new level means you deal more damage. Kirito's damage points must be a little higher than yours. Not surprising… Kirito must've farmed well to get those stats, right?"
Kirito scratched the back of his neck, embarrassed."Yeah… well… I can't deny that."
"W-what? That's unfair!" Asuna complained, pouting before crossing her arms and sinking into her chair.
Aomine stood up, stretching his arms as the others looked at him."I'll be heading out. This conversation might get heavy or boring, and I've already finished relaxing. Time to go back to my guild," he announced in a neutral tone.
Kirito tilted his head slightly, with a touch of weariness."Got it… see you at the next raid, Aomine."
"See ya, Mine-Boy. Take care," Argo raised her hand with a grin.
Aomine nodded and walked out the door. At the table, the atmosphere seemed to return to normal… until a female NPC, dressed as a waitress, approached gracefully and placed the bill on the table. The three of them stared at it, then turned in unison toward the direction Aomine had disappeared.
"You've got to be kidding me…" Asuna muttered.
"Looks like Mine-Boy was pretty sharp…" Argo chuckled under her breath.
"Again…" Kirito dragged a hand down his face in frustration.
Meanwhile, outside the tavern, Aomine walked through the illuminated streets with a nervous smile.(My move worked… clever one, Aomine) he praised himself mentally as he disappeared into the crowd.