CHAPTER TEN

BERCOULI THE INTEGRITY KNIGHT COMMANDER, MAY 380 HE

It’s been so long, I’ve forgotten what being alone is like, Eugeo thought as he climbed the long stairs.

Since that summer day eight years ago when he’d watched as Alice was chained to a dragon’s leg and taken away, Eugeo had lived a life consumed by swinging his ax in the woods, with his eyes, ears, and heart effectively closed off from the world. Everyone in the village, including his family, refused to discuss the Integrity Knight’s arrest of the village elder’s daughter, as though even acknowledging it was a taboo of its own. In fact, they’d even begun to shun Eugeo for having been close to her in the first place.

But just as the villagers avoided him, so did Eugeo avoid others, as well as his own memories of the incident. Unable to admit his weakness and cowardice, he descended into the murky swamp of resignation, hoping to ignore both his past and future.

But then, two years ago, a boy who wandered into the forest without a single possession to his name had found Eugeo and dragged him out of that bottomless swamp. They defeated a band of goblins together and cut down the Gigas Cedar, and the boy helped give Eugeo confidence and a purpose.

Throughout the journey from Rulid, through the town of Zakkaria, and at last to Centoria, where they trained at Swordcraft Academy, Kirito had always been at his side. They had even made their way into the Axiom Church’s Central Cathedral—though not the way they had originally planned—and had overcome numerous obstacles to reach high into the tower. It was all because Eugeo’s black-haired partner was there, guiding and encouraging him.

But just before they were going to reach the final floor, Kirito had vanished. In the midst of a terrible battle against Alice Synthesis Thirty, an Integrity Knight created by implanting false memories into his childhood friend, Alice Zuberg, Kirito and Alice’s Perfect Weapon Control arts intertwined abnormally, blowing a hole in an exterior wall.

The two combatants were instantly sucked outside, and the hole repaired itself soon after. Eugeo did everything he could to punch another hole in the wall, but nothing his Blue Rose Sword or his most powerful flame-based attack arts could do would affect the marble.

Most likely the walls were under a permanent kind of self-repairing art. As far as Eugeo knew, that would be an enormously high-level skill, the first line of which he couldn’t even imagine. So even if he managed to damage the wall at great pains, it would seal itself back up just as quickly. The only reason that hole had opened in the first place must have been because the power created by the mixture of Kirito’s and Alice’s arts had surpassed anything the caster of the wall-enhancing spell could have imagined.

On the other hand, if they had enough power to create the hole, they would surely find a way to survive being sucked through the wall. In particular, Kirito’s transcendent ability to react to sudden circumstances was surely greater than even the Integrity Knights’. He would find a way to stop their fall. He was probably climbing that wall from the outside even now. And that meant Alice was, too.

In her current state, Alice was a steadfast protector of the Axiom Church, so it was hard to imagine her helping Kirito, but if he could climb the wall, she would at least follow. If Eugeo could meet up with him above, they’d have another chance to use the dagger Cardinal had given them.

With that thought in mind, Eugeo passed through the door on the south end of the Cloudtop Garden, the eightieth floor of the cathedral, and proceeded up the stairs. He had to fight off the feeling of loneliness and futility that crept up on him once he was alone.

He started off slow and cautious, ready for an attack at any moment, but there was no sign of anyone else on the eighty-first or eighty-second floors. To get to that point, they’d defeated nine knights in total: Eldrie with his Frostscale Whip, Deusolbert with his Conflagration Bow, the apprentices Fizel and Linel, Fanatio of the Heaven-Piercing Blade, and the Four Whirling Blades who followed her. But there was still the commander of the knights and someone called the prime senator left to deal with, not to mention Administrator herself.

It didn’t seem likely that the pontifex, who was head of the Axiom Church and thus all of humanity, would appear directly, but the knights’ commander and prime senator surely wouldn’t allow him to get to the top of the tower undisturbed. So Eugeo focused all his energy as he went, Blue Rose Sword in hand. And yet, he couldn’t keep his mind from straying to other things.

What were Kirito and Alice doing now? Was she chasing him as he tried to climb the cathedral? Or were they still fighting, hanging off the side of the wall? Could Kirito’s unique charisma have actually caused the proud knight to stay her blade…?

Suddenly, Eugeo sensed an unfamiliar emotion welling in his heart. It made him recall the conflicted feeling he’d had a few hours ago, when he’d turned his blade on the fallen Integrity Knight Deusolbert.

When he’d realized that Deusolbert was the very man who had taken Alice away from Rulid all those years ago, hatred and rage had overtaken him, pushing Eugeo to end the knight once and for all. But Kirito had intervened, and Eugeo had felt a powerful sense of inferiority.

You wouldn’t have just stood there, he thought. You would have attacked that knight, consequences be damned, and found a way to save Alice.

Maybe Kirito’s strength and kindness would find a way into Alice’s heart. This Alice was an imposter, of course, her old memories stolen by Administrator. But Kirito had tried to save the lives of Deusolbert and even Fanatio, who had nearly killed him…so perhaps…

“No. That wouldn’t happen.”

He shook his head, forcing himself to dispel those thoughts. It was pointless to think about it. As long as he could get to the top floor and retrieve the memory fragment stored there and return it to Alice’s soul, her entire memory of being a knight would vanish. Then at last, the real Alice, the person he adored more than any other, would return.

When she awakened again, he would hold her tight and at last say, I’m going to keep you safe…forever. That moment would come soon, by tomorrow or perhaps even that night.

Now was the time to drive those thoughts away and focus on getting closer.

The bells somewhere in the cathedral tolled seven as he came to the end of the stairs. Eugeo counted each time he arrived at a flat landing; that number was now ten. That made this the ninetieth floor. He was approaching the heart of the Axiom Church’s power now.

There was no indication of any staircase continuing upward in the large entrance hall, just a single massive doorway on the north end. It suggested that, like the fiftieth and eightieth floors, the ninetieth would be one wide-open chamber. And within it, more powerful foes than anything he’d seen yet.

Can I really win? All on my own? he wondered, standing at the end of the hall. Fanatio had nearly killed Kirito, and Alice was even more powerful. How would he manage someone notably stronger than them?

Upon reflection, it had been Kirito alone who’d suffered the blows in those fights. All Eugeo did was hide behind him and activate his Perfect Weapon Control. Kirito claimed that was the smart thing to do, considering their respective strengths, but now he was gone, and it was up to Eugeo to do all the fighting himself.

He brushed the Blue Rose Sword at his left, feeling the texture of the hilt and guard. He’d be able to use Perfect Control one more time, but just wildly throwing it around wasn’t going to help him capture anyone with his ice vines. He needed to overpower his foe with swordplay alone and create an opportunity to use it.

“…Here goes,” he told the sword, then lifted a hand and pushed on the white door.

Instantly, he was greeted with bright light, thick smoke, and a continuous booming rumble. A sacred arts attack?! he wondered instantly, moving to leap out of the way…until he noticed that the pale substance billowing out of the doorway was not smoke but steam. It merely moistened his hands and sleeves. Through the swirling vapors, he identified what was happening inside the room.

As expected, this entire floor of the cathedral was dedicated to a single vast chamber, and countless lamps shone from its extremely high ceiling. The floor probably had some fancy name like the Corridor of Ghostly Light or Cloudtop Garden, but there was no way to know. The steam hung low to the ground, blocking Eugeo’s view, but the place seemed empty.

Eugeo took a few steps into the hall, trying to discern the steam’s source. He heard splashing water, and there was a distant rumble that was probably a large stream.

Just then, a draft of cold air from the door rushed through, pushing the wafting steam aside. There was a marble path about five mels wide farther into the chamber. On either side of the walkway the floor dropped, down a series of steps covered by clear water—and hot water, at that. It was at least a mel deep, too. If this entire chamber was full all the way around, he couldn’t even imagine how many lils of water it held.

“What…is…this room…?” He gasped.

The water temperature was too hot to support fish or other animals, and the humidity was too unpleasant for some kind of viewing garden. If anything, it would probably feel good to strip off his clothes and jump into the hot…

“Oh…w-wait a second…”

He knelt at the edge of the pathway and stuck his hand in the water. It was neither too hot nor too lukewarm—exactly the sort of thing that Kirito would describe as “just the right temp.”

It was an enormous megabath.

“…”

Eugeo exhaled, still on his knees. Back at his family home in Rulid, the bath was not much bigger than a simple water basin, and since he was the youngest, by the time it was his turn, the water was half-gone. The first time he saw the bathhouse at the academy dorm, he couldn’t believe it was possible to heat so much water at once.

But that was nothing compared to this place. You could fit all the students from Swordcraft Academy in here with plenty of room to spare. Though they wouldn’t allow the male and female students to bathe at the same time, of course…

Eugeo exhaled again and washed both hands, just because he could, being considerate enough not to bother with his face. He proceeded down the marble walkway toward the ascending staircase, which he expected would be on the other end of the room. Surely they wouldn’t attack him in a bath…

But this assumption delayed his recognition of what was ahead. In the center of the Great Bath chamber, the walkway bulged into a circle. And when he approached it, Eugeo at last noticed a shadow lurking in the water ahead and to his right.

“—?!”

He leaped back on instinct, putting a hand on his sword handle. The misty figure was large with short hair, suggesting that it was not a woman. He was submerged up to his shoulders, with all his limbs stretched out.

This pose indicated he was simply bathing, rather than waiting in ambush, but Eugeo couldn’t afford to be careless. Given the circumstances, the man was almost certainly an enemy. Perhaps it would be best to strike now, while he had the advantage of terrain.

He was about to slide his sword from its sheath when a deep, rusty voice said, “Sorry, you mind waiting first? Just got back to Centoria, and I’ve been on my dragon for ages. I’m all stiff.”

His manner of speaking was rougher than that of anyone they’d met in the cathedral, which surprised Eugeo. The man had a kind of informal simplicity—he was more reminiscent of a rural farmer than a knight.

Eugeo was frozen, unsure what to do. The water sloshed, parting the clouds of steam hovering over the bath. The owner of the voice had stood up, droplets pouring off his frame. He stood with his back to the intruder, hands on hips, rolling his head around on his neck and groaning. It looked totally careless, but even with his hand on his sword, Eugeo couldn’t take a step.

The man was huge. His knees were submerged in the bath, but even then, he was nearly two mels tall. His steely blue-gray hair was shorn short, revealing a shockingly thick neck connected to two very wide shoulders. His biceps were like logs built for swinging even the largest greatswords with ease.

But the most eye-catching detail was his rippling layers of back muscles. Back at school, Eugeo served as page to Golgorosso Balto, who was quite imposing himself, but this man was on another level entirely. He didn’t seem young, but the muscle around his midriff was still perfectly taut.

Eugeo was so arrested by the body of this warrior god that he initially failed to notice the countless scars crisscrossing his skin. In fact, they all seemed to be either arrow or blade injuries. Even deep wounds would heal without a trace if treated right away with high-level healing arts, so this spoke to a number of harrowing battles.

This had to be the commander of the Integrity Knights. The strongest one. The greatest obstacle Eugeo would face on his way to the top of the cathedral…

In that case, now was the time to strike, when he had neither weapon nor armor. Kirito would certainly do it.

Eugeo knew what needed to be done, but once again he froze.

He couldn’t tell whether the man was exposing his back to him as a sign of carelessness or as an exhibition of total confidence. If anything, it seemed like he was enticing Eugeo to attack.

The man finished stretching, totally unconcerned with the boy, then sloshed north through the water. On the walkway just ahead, there was a basket that most likely contained his clothes. He strode up the step onto the lip of the walkway, removed a pair of underpants from the basket, and put them on. Next he donned a thin top—it appeared to be a kimono from the eastern empire, with a wide sash that matched the fabric.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, facing Eugeo at last. His features were chiseled and bold, in keeping with his deep, manly voice. The crisp wrinkles lining his mouth indicated that he was over forty when he became an Integrity Knight, but his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose were hard and strong. The most distinct feature of all was the powerful eyes under his full brows.

There was no real hostility in the pale-blue irises, but even standing over fifteen mels away, Eugeo felt a powerful pressure from them. It was interest in the foe he would soon overpower that dwelled in those eyes, and eagerness for the battle itself. Only one with absolute confidence in his skill could produce such a look. He was like Kirito in that way.

Once he was done tying his sash, he held out a hand to the basket. A longsword rose up from the bottom and fit into his burly hand. He lifted it to his shoulder and walked barefoot across the marble toward Eugeo.

The man came to a stop just eight mels away, stroked his lightly bearded chin, and said, “Now, can you tell me just one thing before we fight?”

“…What is it?”

“Is, er…the vice commander…is Fanatio…dead?” he asked, in the tone of one inquiring about the dinner menu. Eugeo felt momentarily offended—she was his subordinate, after all. But then he noticed an awkward artifice to the man’s expression: He’d glanced off to the side. He truly wanted to know the answer, couldn’t wait to find out, but didn’t want to seem too obvious about it. That, too, reminded Eugeo of someone very familiar.

“…She’s alive. She’s being tended to now…I believe,” he answered.

The man let out a long breath and said, “That’s good. In that case, I won’t take your life, either.”

“Wha…?”

Eugeo lost his voice again. He felt so inferior that it wasn’t even worth trying to call the man’s bluff. Kirito had once told him that belief in oneself could be a weapon of its own, but even he hadn’t exhibited this much confidence in the presence of an enemy. The enormous man had a wealth of confidence as unshakeable as a boulder thanks to something neither he nor Kirito had: the experience of having won countless furious battles, enough to leave his body covered in their scars.

But while Eugeo might not come close to matching him in victories, he had vanquished more than one Integrity Knight on the way here—the very title this fellow wore. If he felt overwhelmed before they even started fighting, he’d be shaming the knights he defeated, Golgorosso and the other people at the academy who’d helped train him, and most of all, his black-haired partner.

Mustering all the courage he could, Eugeo glared at the man facing him. He tensed his gut to ensure his voice would not falter.

“I don’t like it.”

“Oh?” the man said amusedly, his hand paused on the inside of his eastern-style clothing. “What don’t you like, boy?”

“Fanatio is not your only subordinate. There’s Eldrie and the Four Whirling Blades…and Alice as well. Don’t you care for their lives or deaths?”

“Oh…that’s what you mean,” he murmured, looking up and scratching the side of his head with the hilt of his longsword. “Well…Eldrie is little Alice’s disciple, and the other four belong to Fanatio: Dakira, Jace, Hoveren, and Geero. But Fanatio is my disciple. I’m not the kind to fight out of hatred and hostility, but if a disciple of mine gets killed, I need to avenge them. That’s all.”

He smirked, then added, “Actually…little Alice might consider me her teacher…but just between you and me, if we fought, I couldn’t say who’d win. When she was an apprentice knight six years ago, sure. But now…”

“Six years ago…apprentice knight…?” Eugeo murmured, forgetting his anger for a moment.

Six years ago was just two years after Alice had been taken from Rulid. The Integrity Knights’ names included numbers in the sacred tongue, and according to what Kirito had taught him while they ascended the stairs, Alice was thirty, Eldrie was thirty-one, and Deusolbert was seven. Based on the high value of her number, he doubted that she was converted all that long ago…

“But…Alice is the thirtieth Integrity Knight…isn’t she?” he asked.

The man looked briefly confused. “Ohhh. The apprentices aren’t given numbers, as a general rule. She was officially made number thirty when she was turned into a proper knight last year. She was certainly powerful enough to be a knight six years ago, but she was so young then…”

“But…Fizel and Linel had numbers, and they were very young.”

Hearing those names made the man scowl as if he’d chewed a bitter bug. “Those little squirts had a…different…route into knighthood. They had a special exception that allowed them to receive numbers as apprentices. Did you fight them? I’m surprised you’re alive—for a different reason than I’m surprised you beat Fanatio.”

“I nearly lost my head, actually. They paralyzed me with Ruberyl’s poisoned steel,” Eugeo admitted.

The man had known Alice when she was an apprentice knight. Perhaps that meant Alice had undergone the Synthesis Ritual that had covered up her memories six years ago…when she was thirteen. And ever since then, she’d been living here in the cathedral, believing that she’d been summoned from the celestial realm to be an Integrity Knight…

Shrugging, the large man said, “Look, you’re not going to get the best of me, and if she’s just as tough as I am, I doubt you cut her in two, either. From what the damn prime senator tells me, you’ve got a partner. If he ain’t here, then I presume he must be battling the young lady somewhere.”

“…You’ve got the right idea,” Eugeo admitted, gripping his sword hilt. Something in the way the man spoke was dulling Eugeo’s hostility, but this was no time to be lax. He narrowed his eyes and taunted, “If I strike you down, who will come out for vengeance next?”

“Heh! Don’t worry about that. I’ve got no teacher.” The man grinned, lowering the sword from his shoulder so he could draw it. With his left hand, he thrust the empty sheath into his wide waist sash.

The thick, dark blade was smoothly polished, but the little nicks and imperfections from a plethora of battles over the years glinted in the light from the ceiling. The guard and hilt looked like the same kind of steel as the blade itself, but unlike the legendary weapons of the other Integrity Knights, this one had no ostentatious decoration.

Even from a distance, it was clear this weapon was not to be trifled with. It had tasted the blood of many, many foes over a mind-bending span of time. There was a kind of cursed energy infused into the dull gray metal.

Eugeo exhaled slowly and slid his own sword free. He wasn’t using Perfect Control, but the pale-blue sword was exuding a chill that turned the nearby steam into glittering frost, perhaps channeling its owner’s nerves.

With a grand movement befitting his size, the man held up his sword nearly vertical with his body and drew his leg back into a firm, poised stance. It was similar to the High-Norkia Lightning Slash but not the same. With his sword perfectly straight up, he’d need extra movement before he initiated the technique. So Eugeo made the stance for the Aincrad style’s Sonic Leap.

The mysterious Aincrad style—of which Kirito was the only user, as far as Eugeo knew—had many different secret techniques, all named with the exotic sacred tongue. The sacred tongue was taught to the founder of the Axiom Church when the three goddesses created the world. There were no dictionaries for it in the academy’s library—and according to the instructors, none even in the four Imperial Palaces.

Vocabulary words for the sacred arts were the only words one was allowed to know. So Eugeo, as a dutiful student, understood the meaning of just a select few sacred words, like element and generate.

But Kirito, despite losing all memory before he ran into Eugeo in the woods two years before, seemed to know a variety of unfamiliar sacred words, including ones in his techniques: Sonic Leap meant “jumping at the speed of sound,” apparently. Eugeo didn’t know how fast sound traveled, but like the name suggested, it did allow him to jump forward about ten mels with astonishing speed. If you unleashed it at the moment the enemy took the first step forward to close the gap, you were practically certain to seize the initiative.

Eugeo let the tension go and held up his sword to rest on his right shoulder. New furrows appeared in the man’s brow.

“I don’t recognize that stance, boy. Do you use the continuous blade?” he mumbled.

“…!”

Eugeo sucked in a breath. Technically, his Sonic Leap skill was a singular technique. But in the sense that it wasn’t taught in any other school in the human lands, it was just like the Aincrad style’s signature feature: combination techniques. This man’s instinct and experience were evident from his starting stance alone.

But just because he could sense that Eugeo wielded a continuous style did not mean he could predict the Aincrad school’s specific teachings—not unless he had fought Kirito before his memory loss.

“…And what if I do use combination skills?” he rasped.

The man snorted. “No, there was a knight in the Dark Territory who could use it. We had a number of fights, and I don’t remember them fondly…You see, I’m not the type to use tricky, fussy swings like that.”

“…So you’d prefer me to use an orthodox style?”

“No, no. Use whatever you like. I’m just letting you know that I’ll be jumping straight to my best,” he said, mouth curling into a grin. He thrust his upright sword even higher.

An instant later, Eugeo held his breath again; the worn gray metal rippled like heat haze. At first he thought it was steam from the bath, but the more he watched, the more he was convinced the sword itself had lost its firmness.

Maybe the sword is already under Perfect Control.

Eugeo’s mind raced as he held his attack pose. It wasn’t long ago that the mysterious Cardinal had taught him how to use Perfect Weapon Control, but after using it in battle a few times, Eugeo was starting to understand the ability better.

It was similar to sword techniques in the way it gave the weapon power, but Perfect Control was sacred arts through and through and required an incantation. Like your typical sacred arts, one could perform the base command and have it on hold for a time before it was activated with the code Enhance Armament.

The actual amount of holding time depended on the caster’s potential and training. If Eugeo kept quiet and focused hard, he could last for several minutes, but Kirito, who had phenomenal concentration when it mattered most, could do so and hold a conversation.

Eugeo didn’t yet know what form this man’s Perfect Control took, but it was obvious since he’d been talking at length that this man was extremely skilled with it. For his part, Eugeo didn’t have time to start chanting the words, and his ice roses weren’t going to be very effective in a steamy bathhouse.

That left one option: use Sonic Leap in the instant the man used his own technique or Perfect Control arts, in the hope of clinching the fight. He would be expecting Eugeo to use a combination attack, and hopefully he would be taken by surprise when it was an ultra-speed jump.

He tensed his gut, focused all his concentration forward, and watched.

The distance between them was about eight mels.

Neither Norkia style nor its advanced counterpart, High-Norkia style, had a technique that could cover that much ground at once. So if the man swung his sword from his position without stepping closer, that “best” attack of his would be some kind of Perfect Weapon Control that extended the reach of his swings. Eugeo would have to evade it somehow and strike with a counter.

As expected, the man stood in place and slowly swung his upright sword downward. The smile was gone from his lips, which opened to bellow, “Taste the blade of Integrity Knight Commander Bercouli Synthesis One!!”

For just an instant, Eugeo wondered, Where have I heard that before? But he hastily overrode his side thoughts to focus only on the enemy’s movement.

The so-called commander’s left foot pounded heavily onto the marble stone. All the steam in his vicinity shredded into nothing.

Incredibly fast and yet somehow graceful, his powerful hips, chest, shoulders, and arms rotated. First his sword tilted to the right, then it swiped out directly level. Eugeo could sense that this was the greatest of swordplay taught by the orthodox schools. The movement was simple and unadorned yet utterly polished through years and years of experience.

But all the orthodox schools of swordfighting had a weakness in common. Because their forms were so proud and distinct, it was easy to predict the attack’s trajectory. By the time the commander’s sword was slicing flat through the white steam, Eugeo was already in the air, jumping forward to his left. He would be able to dodge cleanly, even if the sword exhibited some kind of Perfect Control attack.

The air rippled at his right ear, but he felt no pain or impact.

I dodged it! he thought, then landed and activated Sonic Leap.

“Rrraaaah!”

His sword took on a green glow tinged with yellow. An invisible power accelerated his body, turning Eugeo into a gust of wind that burst toward the knights’ commander, who had just finished his own swing.

Behind him, the burst from the sword he had just dodged continued until it hit the doors of the bath with a huge—

Nothing.

No sound. Not even a vibration.

Had the slash from the commander been that slow? Or had it dissipated before it reached the doors?

That couldn’t be. That would mean this man, who should be stronger than Deusolbert and Fanatio, had a Perfect Weapon Control with a weaker range than Eldrie, who’d been an Integrity Knight for only a month. Eldrie’s Frostscale Whip struck dozens of mels away like lightning.

It couldn’t be true. So was the commander’s attack not one of an elongated attack range? In fact, Eugeo didn’t get hit at all. That meant all the man did was a simple swing. An ordinary exhibition of a form, the same thing that every student at Swordcraft Academy did during a test.

Is he toying with me? Or does he think a mere student will turn tail and retreat from a single free swing?

The thought burned in his mind—and delayed his realization.

There was something right between the path of Eugeo’s rampaging attack and the stationary man. A horizontal, transparent ripple suspended in the air. Just like the heat haze that surrounded the man’s sword before he swung it.

And that’s…right where he swung his sword…

A deep chill ran down his back. Instinctually he tried to cancel his charge, but once initiated, a technique couldn’t be stopped that easily. He tugged on his sword and scraped his foot on the floor, but the best he managed was a slight dip in speed.

Then Eugeo’s body passed through the floating haze. A burst of blazing heat passed through him from left pectoral to right flank. He was rocketed through the air like a scrap of cloth caught in a gale, rotating madly. Blood gushed from the massive gash on his chest, tracing a spiral through the air.

He landed flat on his back in the bath on the left side of the walkway. A plume of water shot up, and soon the water around the impact was a vivid red.

“Grg…aaah…!”

He spat up the hot water that flooded his mouth; there was red spittle there, too. The gash had reached his lungs, then. If he hadn’t slowed his momentum that little bit before he hit the haze, it might have completely severed his torso.

“System…Call. Generate…Luminous Element…,” he said, casting a healing art as he floated. Fortunately, there was plenty of warm water around, which had much more sacred power than when cold. But Eugeo wasn’t a skilled enough caster to heal such a deep wound in a short amount of time.

He stopped the blood loss, though, and got unsteadily to his feet. The knights’ commander stared down at him from the walkway. The sword was already back in its sheath, and his right hand was thrust into the opening of his kimono, resting there.

“That was a bit dangerous, there. Didn’t expect you to come rushing up so fast. Sorry, nearly ended up killing you.”

His words seemed really informal for such a dire situation, but Eugeo didn’t have time to argue over that. Through pained lungs, he rasped, “Wh…what was…that…you did…?”

“I warned you I’d be giving you my best. And I didn’t just swing and slice through the air. You might say…I sliced the future, just a moment ahead.”

It took some time for the commander’s words to make concrete sense to Eugeo. The throbbing of his wound, which felt like ice in the midst of so much hot water, impeded his thoughts.

Sliced…the future?

It seemed to match the phenomenon he’d witnessed. Eugeo activated Sonic Leap after the swordsman had already swung his blade. But the instant he touched the path where it had been, he suffered a terrible wound, as though the sword had struck him in that passing moment.

But that wasn’t exactly right. If anything, it was like the force of the slice had somehow remained, hanging in the air. He’d seen the wavering ripple right up to the moment his body made contact with it.

In order to land a successful hit with a sword, you had to cut the right place at the right time. If either of the two weren’t accurate, the sword would not strike true. Most likely, the knights’ commander’s Perfect Weapon Control gave him expanded control over the latter. Even after swinging, the force of his sword stayed in place. In other words, it cut the enemy who would fill that space in the future.

Visually, it was the least impressive of all the times he’d seen Perfect Control, but it was perhaps the most fearsome. Every space the enemy’s sword passed through turned into a deadly trap. And the length of its effectiveness was much longer than a combination technique, which was itself a method of increasing an attack’s time. There was no way he could force a close melee battle.

A long-distance fight, then.

The commander’s Perfect Control enabled him to extend his attack time but not the range of his swing. Meanwhile, the range of Eugeo’s ice vines was over thirty mels. The real question was whether the Blue Rose Sword could use its ability properly in a place with so much hot water. At the very least, he’d have to count on a delay between activation and taking effect. In other words, Eugeo would need to lure the enemy close enough to use his sword’s vine ability and still have it work whether or not the man caught on to it.

It would be difficult, but he had no other choice.

Eugeo traced his chest with his left hand. The flesh stung, but the healing was firm enough that he could move about without reopening the wound. He wasn’t fully healed by a long shot—he’d probably lost a third of his life—but he could stand, and he could swing.

“System Call,” he said quietly, letting his voice hide under the thunder of the pipes gushing water into the bath from each corner of the room. He didn’t expect the commander would let him get away with the chant, but if anything, the way the man leisurely crossed his arms and chatted made it seem like he was intentionally giving Eugeo time.

“The first time I saw a knight of darkness use a continuous blade, it was just after I’d been made an Integrity Knight. At first I got beat, and beat good. But I escaped with my life, and I racked this dumb old brain of mine to find the reason I lost.”

He rubbed a scar on his chin, likely a memento of that experience.

“But once I figured it out, it turned out not to be that tricky. Basically, the swordsmanship I’d learned was all about putting as much power into a single swing as possible, while the continuous blade was all about deflecting the enemy attack and hitting him with your own. It ain’t a question about which of the two is more practical in a fight. Doesn’t matter how hard you swing if you miss the mark. The best you can do is give them a refreshing breeze…”

His lips twisted into a grimace, and he let loose a puff of air.

“But I wasn’t clever enough to begin learning the continuous blade right away, just because I’d figured out its point. If the pontifex really wanted an Integrity Knight, she could’ve summoned one a bit less stubborn.”

Eugeo felt his curiosity grow, even as his mind was occupied with chanting his sacred art. The self-proclaimed commander of the Integrity Knights himself had lost his prior memories, just like the others. But even if he, too, forgot his story, was it possible that the rest of the world would simply fail to remember the wielder of such an overpowering sword? Ever since Eugeo had heard him announce himself earlier, something had been steadily eating away at him.

Bercouli Synthesis One. That’s what he had called himself.

He knew he’d heard that name before. It was either a previous champion of the Four-Empire Unification Tournament or some general of the Imperial Knights.

But the man paid little heed to Eugeo’s piercing gaze or the muttered incantation under his breath.

“So I racked my brain for a way to help my sword hit the enemy better. And the answer I landed on was this.” He slid the simple steel sword out of its sheath. “This sword was originally part of a Divine Object stuck to the wall of Central Cathedral, a thing called a clock. In its place is now a Bell of Time-Tolling that measures the hour, but in the past, it was a big circle of numbers with a huge needle that pointed to them. Apparently it was around at the world’s very creation. The pontifex had a weird, unfamiliar name for it…called it a System Clock, as I recall.”

Eugeo didn’t recognize the sacred words. But neither did he know the common-tongue clock Bercouli mentioned. The man had a distant gaze in his eyes, as if staring into the long-lost past.

“As the pontifex says, ‘The clock does not indicate time—it creates time.’ I had no idea what she meant by it, though. But this blade is what resulted when the hand of that clock was reforged. Little Alice’s Osmanthus Blade cuts through the horizontal axis of space, while this one cuts the vertical axis of time. It’s called the Time-Splitting Sword.”

Eugeo found it difficult to envision this clock’s form, but he felt like he understood what the knights’ commander was saying. The power from the sword’s swing could pierce through time and hold its place. With that ability, there was no need at all to chain multiple slashes together, like the Aincrad style. And the only reason that a combination attack needed to be combined was to lengthen the time of the attack without having to recover and refocus. If Bercouli’s sword had both the power of a singular attack and the striking accuracy of a combination, it was basically invincible—as long as you were within its range.

As Bercouli himself had said so poetically, there was only one way to counteract it: fight not with time but with the expanse of space.

But no sooner had the thought occurred to Eugeo than the knight grinned. “And now you think you must attack from a distance. They all do after they see my technique.”

Eugeo felt a twinge of panic at being read so easily, but there was no stopping the chant now. He might be able to predict that Eugeo would attempt a long-range attack, but he wouldn’t know what kind of attack.

Whether aware of Eugeo’s internal logic or not, the commander shrugged and said, “The fact that all the Integrity Knights who were summoned after me, including Fanatio and Alice, have a tendency to choose long-range Perfect Control, probably has something to do with seeing what I can do…I suspect. They’re all very stubborn in that way, you see. But let me be clear that I’ve never lost a sparring match with any of them. I told them that if they ever beat me, I’ll make them the commander on the spot. One day, little Alice might find a way to beat me. In short, I’m looking forward to this. I want to see what your sword can do, if it really did knock them out left and right.”

“…You sound very confident.”

Eugeo had finished chanting the bulk of his sacred arts a few seconds earlier. But something about the intense concentration coupled with his nerves allowed him to murmur the statement without losing the stocked magic.

So Bercouli was admitting that his long speech was meant to give Eugeo time to exhibit his most powerful ability. He knew that whatever it was, he could overcome it the first time he saw it.

And frustrating as it was to admit, even if he could capture Bercouli with the vines of ice roses, Eugeo had zero confidence that he could deplete the man’s life. It was a technique designed to stop movement, after all. And that surely wouldn’t be entirely effective against him, either. At best, it might stop him cold for a couple of seconds. How he used that brief moment would determine the battle’s outcome.

Eugeo rose from the bath, water cascading from his body. Just rising the three steps to the marble walkway caused the wound on his chest to throb painfully. He wouldn’t have the strength to heal the next attack.

“Heh! Come for me, boy. And let me warn you: I won’t go easy on the next one.”

He squeezed the hilt of the Time-Splitting Sword tucked into the sash of his kimono and chuckled. On the walkway twenty mels away, Eugeo brandished the Blue Rose Sword in front of him. With the art on standby, the blade was already coated in thin frost, dusting the hovering steam nearby with ice.

Kirito would have a snappy comeback in a situation like this, but Eugeo’s mouth was parched and stiff, unable to work smoothly. He took a deep breath and carefully spoke the activation words for Perfect Weapon Control.

“Enhance…Armament.”

A chilly wind swirled up from his feet and burst in all directions. He flipped his sword around to hold it in reverse and slammed it right into the stone floor. Instantly, the water on the smooth marble froze into a mirror surface. With a sound like a tree splitting apart, the band of ice raced toward Bercouli.

The walkway was five mels across, but the width of the Blue Rose Sword’s ice wave was nearly ten. The water’s surface on either side of the stone developed an icy film, but its spread was weaker and slower, due to the water’s heat. Still, no excuses were possible at this desperate juncture.

Focusing all thoughts into his right hand, Eugeo clenched the sword ever tighter. He roared, and the frosted floor sprouted not vines but sharp thorns. They formed a thick pillar of ice that rippled down the walkway toward Bercouli, vicious glinting spikes covering the entire floor. But the commander merely tightened at the mouth and stayed put, standing in a slight crouch. He had no intention of escaping into the water.

Seeing his opponent stand firm like a fortress, Eugeo realized what he had to do. If he didn’t risk everything in this fight, he would never win.

He pulled the Blue Rose Sword from the floor and raced after the carpet of ice. His moment of opportunity would arise when the dozens of ice spears reached Bercouli.

Naturally, the commander could see Eugeo charging toward him, but he didn’t show the tiniest smidgen of reaction. He simply spread his feet and willed power into the sword at his left side.

“Hrrng!!”

He bellowed and swung. The carpet of ice spears wasn’t yet within range, so the powerful slice cut only empty air—but the Time-Splitting Sword could sever the future.

Craaash!!

Half a second later, the plethora of ice stalagmites burst. Not one made it past the slice that Bercouli placed in front of them. With almost detestable confidence, the commander returned his blade to an upright position to prepare for Eugeo’s follow-up.

But Eugeo had the enemy in his sights now and held his weapon high overhead. The tiny shards of ice floating around it caught the light from the ceiling, fogging his vision, but it affected his foe equally.

“Seyaaa!!”

“Roahh!!”

They roared together. Eugeo’s sword traced a pale-blue line in the air, while Bercouli’s met his with a gray trail behind it.

The next moment, Eugeo’s sword shattered with a thin, tinkling scream.

Bercouli’s eyes widened just a bit, probably because he was taken aback by the lack of resistance. Eugeo hardly felt a thing, either.

But he knew that was coming. Right before his charge, Eugeo had tossed aside the Blue Rose Sword and broken off an icicle to use as a weapon.

Bercouli had swung to deflect Eugeo’s weapon. If the sword had been proper steel instead of ice, the impact would have knocked him back on his heels. But because the ice simply gave way without resisting, it allowed Eugeo to keep speeding forward, past Bercouli’s defenses.

“Yaaaah!”

He turned his body and rammed his left shoulder into the commander’s stomach. This was an unarmed attack of the Aincrad style called Meteor Break—it supposedly referred to a rock from the sky that breaks through anything in its way. It didn’t technically activate, because he wasn’t holding his sword, but when combined with the man’s unexpected overswing, it succeeded in knocking the large man off balance, disrupting his center of gravity.

Normally Eugeo would continue with a level swipe on the right. But instead, the boy spread his arms and grappled around the commander’s waist.

“Nwah…”

This impromptu push knocked the hefty fellow back, loosening his upper half. This would be the first and last opportunity.

“Yaaaah!!” Eugeo bellowed, disguising the pain of his wound as a masculine roar, and hurled the commander and himself with all his strength toward the bath on the right. Bercouli tensed with his left leg in an attempt to resist, but his bare sole slipped on the icy stone. After he was airborne, the sting of landing in water punched his chest.

But that sensation was nothing compared to the blinding, all-enveloping chill.

“What the…?!” Bercouli exclaimed yet again, with Eugeo clinging to his waist. The bathwater had been scalding just minutes ago, and now it was nearly freezing. No wonder he was shocked.

Eugeo held down the man with his left hand and used his right to search around on the floor of the bath. It should be just around here…

Half by meticulous design, half by luck, his fingers grazed the familiar hilt of his sword.

Soon after, Bercouli threw Eugeo off him by brute force and started to rise, but not before Eugeo thrust the Blue Rose Sword into the base of the bath and commanded, “Freeeeeze!!”

This was the battle’s crucial juncture.

The Blue Rose Sword froze only a small percentage of the vast bath. There was still plenty of hot water around it. In order to freeze it all, you’d need ten sacred arts casters generating ice elements for most of an hour. But there was no other choice here.

Perfect Weapon Control unleashed the memory of the sword, bringing forth power that would be impossible otherwise. It was the wise, mysterious Cardinal who’d said that. She’d made Eugeo and Kirito travel the path of their swords’ memories to put together the Perfect Control arts for each.

Eugeo’s Blue Rose Sword was a Divine Object that originally came from the chunk of ice that sat at the very top of the End Mountains’ tallest peak in the north. It was cold there even in the middle of summer, and because the ice failed to melt all year long, it kept all creatures away. For decades and decades, that eternal ice passed a solitary existence.

One spring, there was a breeze that carried over the mountains and dropped a tiny seed right near the eternal ice. Day by day, the ice let a bit of itself melt, providing a small amount of water to The Seed. Eventually, it found root and budded despite the freezing cold, and when summer arrived, it bloomed a small but beautiful flower. It was a rose, even bluer than the northern skies.

Delighted to have a friend at last, the eternal ice spoke to the flower at every opportunity. But one day, as autumn was coming to a close, the flower said, “I won’t be able to survive the cold of winter. We’ll be parting soon.”

The ice lamented. It cried and cried at the loss of its only friend, which shrank its body. The flower said, “Before I shrivel up and wither away, will you lock me inside you? That way, even after I die, my body will remain forever.”

The eternal ice granted the blue rose’s wish. From its own tears, it carefully formed a pool of water around the blue rose and prayed, Freeze, freeze, freeze forever. The prayer was so strong, it even froze the ice’s own heart.

When the blue rose froze within the ice, the frozen ice no longer spoke or thought for itself. It had shed so many tears that the only thing left on the mountaintop was a piece of ice that had elongated into the shape of a sword, with a single blue rose trapped inside.

It could have all just been a dream that Eugeo had inside that enormous library. He had no idea how that rough ice approximation of a sword had turned into a real weapon and moved from the peak down to the cave underneath, where the white dragon hoarded it. And of course, it was impossible that a chunk of ice and a rose could have minds and feelings.

And yet, if it was supposed to be just a dream, how could he still tangibly feel that prayer from the hunk of ice inside him? The wish for all the sadness, the pain, the life, even time itself to freeze forever…

Give me your strength, Blue Rose Sword! he prayed, letting loose a shout.

“Release…Recollection!!”

This was the second stage of Perfect Weapon Control: the command for Memory Release, fully unlocking the weapon’s hidden power. Cardinal had said they weren’t advanced enough to use it yet, but maybe now he could—and if not now, then when?

In his hand, the sword shook.

Then there was the stunning sound of countless panes of glass shattering all at once throughout the bathhouse. A ring of bright-blue light spread quickly out of Eugeo’s hand. All the water it touched froze so fast, even the ripples were preserved.

In mere seconds, the enormous bath was frozen white. The terrific, incapacitating chill forced a moan from Eugeo’s lips. You would never feel a temperature that cold, even standing naked in the Rulid forest in midwinter. If he closed his eyes, he wouldn’t be able to tell whether it was ice on his skin, or burning iron.

He wanted to brush off the frost whitening his eyelashes, but his left hand was under the water, holding Bercouli down, while his right had the Blue Rose Sword in a reverse grip near the bottom. Only blinking rapidly could knock the crystals off, giving him a view of his foe through the thick mist.

Bercouli the Integrity Knight Commander was stuck in the ice up to his neck. Because he’d been trying to push himself up, both his left hand and his sword-holding right were near the bottom of the bath. Like Eugeo, he was immobilized.

The commander grumbled, tiny icicles crumbling from his brows and beard. “Never thought I’d see a swordsman who throws his sword away in the face of the enemy…Is this a tactic of your own devising?”

“…No,” Eugeo struggled to say through numb lips. “My partner taught it to me. He said that anything on the battlefield can be used as a weapon or a trap.” Bercouli closed his eyes and appeared to think about this, then broke into a grin. More bits of ice sprinkled off his lips.

“Hmph. I see. Making use of the lay of the land…Well, I’ll admit that you got one over on me, but I’m afraid I can’t just concede defeat to you.” He sucked in a breath and held it.

Eugeo was nervous, wondering what he intended to do. If the man started chanting a sacred art, he’d have to prepare a counteracting art instantly.

Bercouli’s pale-blue eyes opened. His lips parted to reveal bared animal fangs that emitted a splitting cry.

“Nrrrng!!”

Several thick veins rose on his forehead. Cords of muscle bunched on the parts of his neck visible above the ice, turning his skin bright red.

“Wha…?” Eugeo gasped. Bercouli was trying to break through the thick ice using nothing but sheer muscle power.

It was impossible. Even with full movement and plenty of space, you’d have a terrible time attempting to break a block of ice this thick with your bare hands. And he was trying to do it while completely immobilized from the neck down.

His clenched white teeth creaked with a sound like metal scraping. Those blue eyes burned like they were going to emit their own light. Even the subzero air surrounding him could not stop an even colder sensation from running down Eugeo’s spine.

Then there was a small but undeniable crack.

A fracture line ran through the ice between them. It cracked and split into two. And then another. Once again, Eugeo realized this man was an extraordinary, superhuman specimen. The Integrity Knights were chosen from among the handful of the very best warriors in all the empires, and this man stood above them all. He was the most powerful fighter in the world. A living legend who had spent a century or two in battle.

Not a single instant of carelessness could happen against such an opponent. Of course, Eugeo hadn’t expected that freezing both himself and the enemy would be the end of the battle. His true intention was yet to come: a forced battle of attrition as their life values sank.

Deep under the surface of the ice, Eugeo gripped the hilt of his sword, which was still in its Memory Release state, and focused his thoughts. If the memories he saw were true, then the Blue Rose Sword had a slightly different genesis than Kirito’s black sword, Bercouli’s Time-Splitting Sword, and Fanatio’s Heaven-Splitting Sword. Unlike theirs, his had two distinct entities for its source: the eternal ice and the rose locked inside it.

The ice’s power was to freeze all things. And the rose’s power…was to cause life to flower.

“Bloom, blue roses!!” he screamed, and countless buds dotted the surface of the ice. They rotated as they grew, extending clear blue petals as thin as razors. Each rose bloomed with the chime of a bell, until there were hundreds and hundreds of flowers. It was a sight astonishingly beautiful and unfathomably harsh—all the flowers were growing and blooming through the consumption of Eugeo’s and Bercouli’s lives.

He felt his limbs growing numb, his vision dimming. Not only could he not feel the chill; he couldn’t even sense the hardness of the ice pressing against his skin. Sheer numbing lack of sensation covered his entire body.

Bercouli’s reddened skin was turning paler, too; trying to break through the ice was sapping all his strength. For the first time in the fight, his proud features no longer looked totally confident.

“Kid…were you planning on taking us both down…from the start?”

“Don’t get…the wrong idea,” Eugeo rasped, struggling to lift his heavy lids. “The only area where I might have an advantage…is the amount…of life. Fanatio suffered the same wound as my partner and collapsed at the same moment…which would mean that Integrity Knights still have the same amount of life as regular people…isn’t that right?”

While he spoke, brilliant points of light began floating up from the hundreds of icy roses. The thundering sound of the main faucets providing the bath with water was gone now, a sign that the ice had reached even them.

Both Bercouli and Eugeo were covered with so much ice, only their faces were exposed. If he could see their Stacia Windows, they would indicate that their life was dropping at an alarming rate. Eugeo desperately fought back against his sudden desire to sleep, keeping his mouth working.

“Based on your looks…I assume you became a knight after you turned forty…and that means your maximum life value is lowered. But my life is close to its peak…Even after taking that blow, my number should still be higher. That was my bet.”

No sooner were the words out of Eugeo’s mouth than Bercouli’s eyes shot open. His face contorted, breaking the icicles hanging from his forehead and nose. “What the hell…did you just say?”

It would have been difficult just to stay conscious, but there was a burning fire raging in the commander’s eyes. “When I became a knight…? You’re acting like you know what our previous lives were like.”

Eugeo blinked, gathering all his remaining strength to reply, “I cannot…forgive…that part of you people.”

The sudden surge of emotion from his gut caused him to briefly lose feeling all over his body. “You forget who and what you are…you know nothing of the true form of the Axiom Church you serve…and you pretend that you’re the good guys, the only real protectors of the law. You’re not knights who were summoned from Heaven by the pontifex. You were born from a mother who gave you the name Bercouli. You’re a human being, just like me!” he screamed.

And just then, in that moment, Eugeo realized who the mighty man was.

The shock was so sudden, a gasp escaped his lips. Bercouli…the name of the man in the old stories his grandfather told him. He founded Rulid Village three hundred years ago and served as its first chief man-at-arms. He went spelunking in the cave under the End Mountains, where he snuck up on the sleeping white dragon in search of a fabled sword…the Blue Rose Sword, which was now in Eugeo’s right hand.

For a moment, he wondered if this was some descendent who shared Bercouli’s name, but then Eugeo abandoned that idea. When the Integrity Knights’ life was prevented from charting its natural decline, aging became impossible. Here he was, in the flesh. The hero Eugeo had admired as a child…and the protagonist of “Bercouli and the Northern White Dragon,” the fairy tale he hadn’t thought of since that summer Alice was taken away. Only now, the man had no memory of his life at the founding of Rulid.

Somehow, Eugeo recovered from his brief but monumental shock. “B…Bercouli. You…you should recognize…my sword.”

A few inches below the surface of the ice, the Blue Rose Sword was still glowing, expelling its full chilling force. The knights’ commander and hero of a three-hundred-year-old legend glanced down under the ice. His firm jaw bulged, and air hissed through his clenched teeth. Eugeo was surprised at his eventual answer:

“…I think…I have…seen it…before…”

He closed his eyes slowly, then opened them again.

“When I killed the northern protector…there was a similar sword…in its lair…”

Stunned, Eugeo nearly forgot all about the all-consuming cold that surrounded him. “When you…killed it…?”

An image flashed into his head of exploring the northern cave with Alice, eight years ago. There was a collection of enormous bones inside the central chamber of the cave. They were crisscrossed with fierce gashes—cuts not from some wild animal’s fangs or claws but from a metal tool swung by human hands.

“Those dragon bones…You did that…? You killed the dragon…from the story…?”

Despite the ice encompassing him, a burning ball of emotion rose in his throat. Eugeo shook his head, feeling something seeping out of his eyes. “Did you really forget everything…? Bercouli, back in the village where I was born, everyone from the elderly to little children knows you as a hero. You were our ancestor, the man who traveled a long way from the big city to found a village in a distant, barren land. The pontifex abducted you, covered up your memories, and made you into the first Integrity Knight. And not just you—Fanatio, Eldrie, Alice…everyone. Before they were made Integrity Knights, they were all…human, just like me.”

“Covered up…my memories…?”

Bercouli’s gaze had been steady and firm all through the fight, but now it was uncertain, focused on some undefined point in the distance. In a voice just barely audible, he mumbled, “I can’t…just take what you said…at face value. But…I’ll admit, I’ve been…skeptical…for a long time…that I was some holy knight brought here from Heaven…”

Bercouli’s muscles were relaxed again, no longer clenched. The frost was covering his manly features once more. The tears on Eugeo’s cheeks froze, too, disappearing into the film of ice covering his face.

The knowledge that the hero from “Bercouli and the Northern White Dragon” had actually slain the other central figure of the tale filled Eugeo with a sense of helpless loss. The pontifex’s power was well beyond his imagining, if even the greatest of warriors could be manipulated and turned into a faithful knight. Perhaps there was no way that a mere pair of student swordsmen could do anything about Administrator…and the Axiom Church.

In the back of his mind, Eugeo could feel his life steadily being sucked away by the blue roses. It would be the same for Bercouli. Through the foggy frost, his gray-blue eyes were half-closed, and he was barely conscious.

So we’re both going down…

The realization set off a tiny spark of determination in his heart, a refusal to give up now. But he couldn’t even move a finger. Under the ice, he could sense his grip on the Blue Rose Sword dying…

“Hoh-hohhh! Why, what a marvelous sight,” a sharp voice said, as unpleasant as fork tines scraping on a metal plate.

Through clouded eyes, Eugeo watched an odd silhouette wobbling closer along the walkway toward them. It was a person, it seemed, but extremely round. It was like someone had attached comically tiny limbs to a giant ball-shaped torso. There was no neck whatsoever, just a similarly round head that grew straight out of the shoulder area. It looked like a child’s winter snowman.

But this man’s clothes were eye-scorchingly bright. His right half was bright red, while his left half was blue, with golden buttons to hold in his rotund belly. The fellow’s trousers were also split colored, as were his shoes.

There wasn’t a single hair on his round head, only an angled golden hat resting on the smooth scalp. It was similar in shape to Cardinal’s, back in the Great Library, but without the tastefulness. On top of all this, his height was barely over one mel.

Eugeo recalled the midsummer solstice festival in the sixth district of Centoria, where a band of traveling acrobats featured a ball-riding clown dressed in similar attire. But it was clear from the look on the man’s face that he was not meant to bring joy and laughter.

His age was impossible to guess. The man’s skin was abnormally white, his nose round, and his cheeks sagging. His vivid red lips were wide open in a leering grin. His eyes were very thin, almost crescent shaped, and turned up so that he appeared to be laughing, but the look in his eyes themselves was cold.

The red-and-blue clown hopped along down the walkway, then leaped forcefully onto the frozen bath. His menacingly pointed shoes crunched two of the delicate ice roses.

“Hoh-hohhh! Hoh-hoh-hoh!” he chuckled, though it wasn’t clear what he found amusing. The little man clapped his hands and continued reducing the nearby roses to shards of glass. He proceeded toward Eugeo and Bercouli, crunching loudly all the while.

He came to a stop a few mels away, kicked one final rose for good measure, then looked at them at last. His red lips split open, emitting that hideous voice.

“Oh-ho…very poor form, very poor form indeed, Commander. You aren’t planning to kick the bucket here, are you? That would be clear rebellion against our lovely pontifex, wouldn’t it? If she should awaken, she will be quite furious.”

Despite seeming completely unconscious just seconds before, Bercouli opened his trembling mouth to emit a low rasp. “Prime Senator…Chudelkin…You have no reason to interfere in a battle between swordsmen…you cretin…”

“Hoh-hoh-hohhh!” the little clown chuckled, clapping his hands and hopping in place. “Swordsmen! Battle! Oh, how you make me laugh, hoh-hoh-hoh!”

He hissed with laughter in a way no human being ever did.

“Bold words, coming from the man who went as soft as a cloud against this filthy traitor! You didn’t use the flip side of your Time-Splitting Sword, did you, Commander? You could have killed that arrogant upstart before he so much as uttered a word, if you wanted! And that in itself is treachery to our great lady!!”

“Shut up…I fought…to the utmost of my ability…And more importantly, you lied to me…This kid…ain’t some assassin from the Dark Territory…He’s far more admirable than a disgusting meat blob like you…”

“Siiiilence! I will wrench your head from your body!!” screeched the little man. His eyes bulged, and he bounced into the air like a ball, then landed feetfirst on Bercouli’s head. Then he wobbled back and forth on his perch, screeching and carrying on.

“The only reason we’re having this problem in the first place is because you accursed knights can’t be trusted to do a single job right! You’ve been beaten soundly by a pair of miserable children, and I’m afraid the laughter is threatening to split the skin off my sides! When my lady awakens, we’ll revisit every single one of the knights…and at the very least, you and the vice commander will be reprocessed, I can tell you that much!”

“What…the hell…are you talking…about…?”

“Oh, enough from you. Shut up, shut up. Just go to sleep.”

The little man perched atop Bercouli’s head thrust out the pinkie finger of his right hand in a theatrical gesture. Then he licked his red lips and screeched, “System Caaaaall! Deep Freeeeze! Integrator Unit, ID Zero Zero One!”

The sacred art was totally unfamiliar. It was a very short cast, and that meant it wouldn’t be super-powerful, if it was an attack. And yet…

“Hrng,” grunted Bercouli. Then his body—hair, skin, even clothing—began to turn a dark gray. It wasn’t a freezing effect as much as it was turning him into a stone statue. The light went out of his eyes, and his body beneath the ice turned the color of mud. At last, the odd little clown, Prime Senator Chudelkin, hopped off Commander Bercouli’s head.

“Hoh-hoh-hee, hoh-hee-hee…As a matter of fact, we’ve no use for a geezer like you anymore, Number One. We’ve got a much more useful pawn now…haven’t we?”

Then the clown’s needle-thin pupils fixed on Eugeo. A horrible fear colder than any ice raced up his spine.

That was when Eugeo hit his limit. He tried to focus on the red-and-blue shoes crunching roses as they approached, but even that was gradually covered in gauzy darkness.

Kirito.

…Alice…

Their names were the last thoughts Eugeo had before he blacked out.