8

Asuna reached and reached for Kirito—until a red armored boot stomped down on her hand.

She looked up to see a red knight, whose eyes were burning with hatred through the slit in his helmet, raise a sword up high with both hands in a backhand stabbing position. He issued some fierce insult and started to thrust downward.

Asuna didn’t have the strength to fight back, but she was determined to at least keep from shutting her eyes. She focused on the steel tip.

Ting.

There was a sharp, metallic noise and a resulting shower of orange sparks.

The knight’s sword jolted back up into the air, as though it had been deflected by some other, invisible sword.

“Uh…?” the knight grunted in confusion and swung the sword down again. That created more sparks and did not get him any closer to killing Asuna. A third and fourth attempt achieved the same result.

There was no fifth try. Sortiliena raced over to Asuna and used the knock-back skill Torrent to push the red knight backward with the pommel of her greatsword.

As she helped Asuna up, Sortiliena asked her, with undisguised shock, “Was that…your Incarnate Sword, Asuna?!”

“Incar…?” Asuna repeated, unfamiliar with this word. She shook her head. “No, it wasn’t me.”

“Then…perhaps Renly…,” Sortiliena suggested, turning to look. Asuna followed her gaze, but the young wounded knight was giving directions to his squad to fight back the approaching horde of red warriors and wasn’t in any state to be paying attention to Asuna.

This wasn’t the time to be searching for the source of the phenomenon, however; they had to save every last Underworld life they could. Asuna got to her feet with Sortiliena’s help, willing whatever shreds of concentration she had left to help her take in the state of the scene around her.

Promptly, she felt fresh despair steal over her heart like cold black water.

Over 80 percent of the twenty thousand remaining Chinese and Koreans were launching into battle with their own kind. But the difference in morale was stark—the players seeking to continue the fight overwhelmed those who didn’t. Little blue pillars of avatar destruction dotted the battlefield, accompanied by fierce war cries.

Also, a small percentage of the knights—but still over two thousand in number—were moving in on the Japanese players and the Underworlders, who were clumped in one place. The Japanese players barely had any strength left, and Renly and the rest of the Underworlders were gravely wounded. Despite the advantages of sacred arts and sword skills, there was very little they could do to vanquish their enemy.

Asuna couldn’t even think of what to say. All she did was cling to Sortiliena’s arm.

Elsewhere, PoH’s echoing laughter rang out long and loud. The Grim Reaper, who still had a huge hole in his chest, stood over the prone form of Kirito. His hands were spread wide, massive Mate-Chopper in one hand and his fingers spread out on the other, and he leaned backward with majestic laughter. Dark clouds above swirled into an enormous vortex as the life resources spilled on the battlefield hung down in a whirlpool that ended directly in PoH’s body.

Technically, it was the cursed blade in his hand that was absorbing the resources. If they could destroy that, the energy flow to its owner would stop, and the heartless reaper would die instantly.

But the situation was so bad that even the defeat of the enemy commander would not bring it under control. PoH’s inflammatory words and evil aura were pushing the war hawks onward. If they lost their commander now, that would only give them more fuel to slaughter all the Japanese and Underworlders in a blind rage.

What can we do? What can I do…?

Asuna hung her head, racked with panic and desperation—but then she noticed a strange phenomenon around them.

Where the ground was visible, the blackened gravel was now covered by a trail of faint-white mist. It drifted past her feet, rippling like a length of ribbon made of finest silk, and spread out as it continued past. A sweet, gentle scent tickled her nostrils.

Is that…the smell of roses…?

Asuna and Sortiliena followed the ribbon of mist back to its source with their eyes. And when they saw where it was coming from, they both let out little gasps.

“Oh……”

And again.

“Ohhh.”

The source of the mist was a skinny young man lying on the ground many yards away.

Technically, it was the bluish-white longsword in his left hand. The blade was snapped off halfway up, but it looked like the mist was surrounding the entire weapon and even glowing a little bit.

“Kirito…,” called out Asuna, her quavering lips forming the name of the person she loved more than any other.

“Then that Incarnation…was Kirito’s…” Sortiliena gasped, voice thick with emotion.

The white mist reached the position of the allied Chinese and Korean soldiers who were standing all around, and it continued to expand beyond them. They were too occupied with the battle to notice that everything from their knees downward was enveloped by a layer of white ribbon.

Only at this point did PoH notice what was happening and stop laughing. He stared at his feet, then sprang around to look at Kirito. His tall, lanky frame jolted once, then he flipped the Mate-Chopper around for a better grip and strode forward.

One step. Two steps.

But he did not finish the third step.

Someone whispered…chanted…in a quiet but sure voice that seemed to carry across the entire battlefield.

Enhance Armament.

Asuna heard it inside her head, too. It was Kirito’s voice, but it sounded like there was some other, unfamiliar voice speaking in chorus with him.

The next moment, the entire battlefield was enveloped in a vast, stunning phenomenon on the scale of Stacia’s terrain-altering powers.

From the mist emerged vines of crystal clear ice, binding the bodies of the twenty-thousand-plus Chinese and Korean players, as well as PoH. They looked extremely fragile, likely to shatter the moment you touched them, but the furiously battling soldiers were immobilized so completely that time might as well have stopped by magic.

After a brief silence, shouts of surprise and anger arose, but they too died down in time. Every avatar wrapped in the icy vines was soon covered in a shroud of frost and frozen solid in moments.

Asuna briefly glanced over her shoulder toward the red knight who had tried to save Klein. He, too, was an ice sculpture now. But he didn’t seem to be in any pain; his eyes were peacefully closed, as far as she could see through his helm visor. The technique wasn’t meant to destroy or inflict pain, just to stop those it touched.

She faced forward again to see that PoH was frozen white as well. She looked at Sortiliena and nodded to indicate her state. “Thank you, Liena…I’m fine now.”

The chief guard let go of her, and she rushed toward Kirito, crunching the frost on the ground underfoot. Behind her followed Sortiliena and Ronie, who came running up from the Human Guardian Army’s forces.

Kirito was still facedown on the ground, clutching the broken sword in his left hand. But Asuna could tell that at this very moment, his mind was coming back to him. If she could touch his hand, cradle him, call out to him, he would respond. He would surely respond.

The span of a few dozen yards felt like it continued to the ends of the earth. Less than twenty seconds felt longer than eternity. But with each stride of her aching legs, the form of her beloved grew larger and larger in her view. Almost there. Almost within reach…

In the instant that her outstretched hand was going to touch that familiar black hair, she heard a tremendous, earsplitting crash.

The women looked up and saw, very close by, the figure of PoH breaking through the ice vines and frost to take one violent step forward.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life for this!! C’mon, Kirito…Let’s dance!!”

As far as Asuna knew, this was the first time, going all the way back to their SAO days, that PoH had actually spoken that name. He readied the Mate-Chopper and leaped like some monstrous bird.

The frighteningly thick blade descended, exuding an evil red-black aura. And it was aimed not at Kirito but at Asuna and the other two women.

“No—!”

Sortiliena rushed forward, raising her damaged longsword over her head to block the reaper’s blow. But the enlarged dagger, nearly three times its original size now, didn’t even need to touch her blade directly; its wicked aura alone split Sortiliena’s sword in two.

The shock knocked the chief guard backward. Asuna and Ronie stood behind her in an attempt to keep her upright. The three of them ended up clumped together, with the wicked blade coming down in a lethal swing…

Claaaaang!

There was a tremendous ringing just above them, knocking them onto their behinds.

But the knife hadn’t touched them. It was vibrating, like it had struck some invisible barrier hanging in the air. The exact same thing that had prevented the red knight from hitting Asuna earlier.

This time, she definitely felt it. She was being protected by warm, strong, familiar arms. Just before the invisible barrier, she could see something faintly glowing. Painted in the air in little golden motes of light was a hand with fingers outstretched—a right hand.

Then she heard a scraping sound.

Asuna’s head turned automatically to the left.

Though Kirito’s face was still against the ground, his left hand had the broken white sword pointed into the soil. And with that as a base, his frail, emaciated body was slowly, slowly rising up off the ground.

The empty right sleeve of his black shirt swayed in the breeze. No—not quite. It was gradually filling out, moving closer to the place where the illusionary hand supported the barrier.

When the sleeve made contact with the hand, it created a golden brilliance, dispersing the evil miasma that lurked on the other side of the wall. The barrier slammed PoH’s body, knocking him far backward.

When the brilliance faded, Asuna was looking at a perfectly whole—if still slightly emaciated—hand and arm. Her eyes followed his arm upward, past his shoulder.

And then she saw long bangs waving in the breeze. Lips forming a gentle smile. And two black pupils gazing back at her from the same level.

His lips moved, and his voice emerged:

“I’m back, Asuna.”

Tears burst from her eyes, never-ending, and she couldn’t stop a high-pitched peal from leaving her throat. She clenched her hands before her chest and channeled her wave of emotion into words.

“……Welcome home, Kirito.”

Next, Sortiliena and Ronie called out his name in unison. Kirito nodded to them with a smile and faced forward again. There was a stern quality to his expression.

Over thirty feet away, PoH got back to his feet with a smoothness that seemed to ignore the power of gravity.

The Chinese and Korean players that had been about to kill one another were still entirely frozen by the ice vines, which should have stopped the generation of fresh spatial resources, but the swirling black clouds were still on the move overhead, and PoH’s knife was still absorbing power. The Grim Reaper wasn’t going to stop unless his weapon was destroyed.

Kirito stood up a second later. He faltered but kept his balance. Asuna had to stifle the urge to rush to his side and keep him stable. She barely had the strength to stand herself, so throwing herself into the situation would only make her a liability. Now was the time to believe in Kirito. Just believing would be a source of strength in itself.

Kirito lifted his regenerated arm and drew the black sword from its sheath, right from where it lay on the ground. Then he rose again and felt its weight in his palm.

It was a different shape from his old sword, Elucidator, and the other sword was broken in half—but the image of him dual-wielding black and white blades belonged to none other than the Black Swordsman, who had protected, guided, and granted strength to Asuna from the day they had met.

The white longsword in his left hand sparkled like diamond dust, exuding its frosty aura. The superpower that was immobilizing over twenty thousand soldiers at once was still being maintained, but there was no hint of effort or concentration on Kirito’s face. It was as though someone else was standing at his side, sharing his burden.

Kirito trudged forward, holding two swords at once, staring directly into the two red eyes shining from PoH’s hood. The man spread his arms in a welcoming gesture, exposing the giant hole in his chest.

“…So, you’re awake at last. How long has it been since we stared each other in the face and had a conversation in person?”

The reaper’s voice was harsh, like rusted metal scraping together. Kirito channeled his Aincrad days; his voice was aloof but with a sharp edge at its core. “You know, I’ve lost track. But I know this time will be the last.”

PoH whistled in admiration. “How nice…You’re the best, Kirito. C’mon…Let’s pick up where we left off. We haven’t really cut loose since Aincrad.”

He lifted the Mate-Chopper—which was more of a machete now that it was three times its usual size—as though it were as light as a feather. The black clouds overhead swirled even harder, and dark-red sparks danced around the thick slab of metal.

Kirito, meanwhile, lifted his black sword straight back.

But the moment the sword reached a vertical angle, his weakened body faltered, unable to support the full weight of the weapon.

Asuna already knew that the Underworld wasn’t the same as any other VRMMO world built under The Seed’s specifications. Every object that existed here was a mnemonic visual created solely through memory and was subject to the influence of the brain’s power to envision and imagine.

According to Alice, Kirito had been in an unresponsive state for nearly half a year in this time-accelerated world. He might not have any memory of that span of time, but he would know that his body had been inactive for all of it. So the weakened image of himself in his mind was actually physically crippling him.

But as a matter of fact, that might not have been all of it.

Takeru Higa of Rath had given her an explanation of why Kirito’s self-image had been damaged like that.

It turned out that he had a number of helpers—artificial fluctlights, of course…He had friends. Most of them died in the battle against the Church, but when he finally succeeded in opening the circuit to the outside, he was strongly blaming himself. In other words, he was attacking his own fluctlight. Just then, our shady attackers cut the power line, and the momentary power surge caused an instant spike in the STL’s output. The result was that Kirito’s self-destructive impulse was actualized…and his ego was deactivated.

She’d found it difficult to absorb at the time, but in summary, Kirito had lost someone important to him here, and his sadness had been so great that it had destroyed him. Asuna knew this person’s name, because it had come up over and over again during the night she’d spent trading stories in the tent with Alice, Ronie, and Sortiliena: Eugeo the sword disciple.

Through some miracle, Kirito had recovered, but he still was not accepting of Eugeo’s death. An unending sadness was casting its pall over his mind…and even his physical body.

Kirito, Asuna thought, watching him hold the black sword aloft, I can’t imagine what kind of horrible, heartbreaking things you went through. But I can tell you this: Your friend still lives on inside you. The same way that Yuuki still lives inside me. And that memory will bring you strength. Strength to pick up your sword and fight again.

And, as if her thoughts had become words in his ears, Kirito held the broken sword to his chest, even as the black sword was on high.

Sensing this was a chance to strike, PoH moved. His slender form tilted forward, then burst across the wreckage-strewn ground, closing thirty feet in a blink. His thick machete slid forward, seemingly weightless.

Rather than sidestepping it, Kirito struck with his right sword to deflect the blow. But Asuna could see that his attack had lost its usual bite.

When the longsword made contact with the machete, it fortunately avoided being knocked aside, but Kirito could not bring enough momentum for an even stalemate; the power of the knife pushed his sword straight down. His knee bent, and his back arched like a bow. His boots slid a foot along the dirt.

“…Come on—don’t disappoint me. I’ve been waiting almost two years for this moment…,” growled the reaper in the black poncho. Like its blade, the Mate-Chopper’s handle was enlarged, too, and he added his other hand for leverage.

The point of contact creaked, and Kirito’s knee sank even lower. If only he could switch to a two-handed grip, like PoH…but he had the white sword clutched in his left hand. It was split in two, so it could not be used to attack.

Within Death’s hood, thick lips curved sadistically. Slowly but surely, the blade of the machete approached Kirito’s neck.

“Kirito…!” gasped Sortiliena. She made to stand, holding her broken sword. But Asuna grabbed her shoulder to hold her back.

“It’s all right, Liena,” she whispered, suppressing her own fear. This woman had apparently been his instructor at the swordfighting academy he’d attended. “Kirito will be all right. He won’t lose to that awful man…He’d never.”

And Ronie, whom Kirito had instructed in turn, tearfully agreed. “That’s right. Kirito won’t lose this fight.”

“……Of course,” said Sortiliena. She reached up to squeeze Asuna’s hand where it rested on her shoulder.

But then, as if mocking their assurances, PoH’s Mate-Chopper dug down farther. Kirito’s left knee hit the ground. The arm holding up the black sword was trembling with effort. He seemed to be nearly out of strength.

PoH leaned in closer to Kirito’s strained features. “Drop that piece-of-shit sword and use your other hand already,” he mocked. “Those Chinese and Koreans you’re keeping frozen were killing all your friends, you know that? Why should you care if they kill one another this time?”

Despite the force pressing down on him, Kirito mustered an icy reply to the devil’s temptations. “I know exactly how you do things. You make people fight, you sow the seeds of hatred, and you set up the next conflict. You caused plenty of chaos that way in SAO, but you’re not going to get away with that in the Underworld…I’ll make sure of that.”

“Oh yeah? How so? Once they’re unfrozen, they’re going to slaughter the surviving Japanese and all your precious Underworlders. The only way to stop that is to kill them. Just smash them all to pieces while they’re frozen. Your friends can handle that. Just give the orders…Tell them to kill all the Chinese and Koreans.”

“……”

Kirito did not respond to the venomous suggestion. But Asuna could tell exactly what PoH’s plot was about.

The Chinese and Korean players wrapped in icy vines didn’t seem to be in any pain at the moment, but if they were broken apart, it would cause tremendous agony. The pain would lead to anger and make whatever rage they felt toward the Japanese players permanent.

The deaths of the invading soldiers would also spill a great amount of resources that his Mate-Chopper could absorb. He would have enough power to win the fight against Kirito and slaughter every remaining person.

Kirito had to know that, and he wasn’t going to fall for it. But in order to prevent that disaster, he had to use the sword in his left hand to maintain the freezing spell, making his chances in the fight against his archenemy dire.

With each tremble of the hand holding off the huge machete, more sparks flew off where they intersected. The heavy blade got closer, slowly but surely. There was only a fist’s worth of space between it and Kirito’s left shoulder.

“…But if you wanna be stubborn and die, that’s fine by me,” PoH said, a venomous smile on his lips. “Don’t worry. After I kill you, I’ll murder the Flash and everyone else, too.”

The reaper’s eyes glowed like will-o’-the-wisps in the darkness of the hood. His mouth opened all the way to his cheekbones, revealing sharp fangs.

“Come on…Let me taste your lifeblood, Kirito.”

PoH licked his lips with a pointed, reptilian tongue and put even more strength into the Mate-Chopper. The black sword screamed in protest. The fatal edge was closing the gap, a fraction of an inch per second…

Suddenly, from just over Asuna’s shoulder, she heard a voice praying, “Please, Eugeo, save Kirito.”

Asuna, Sortiliena, and Ronie turned around to see Tiese, the red-haired girl, with her hands clasped before her chest. A moment later, Asuna sensed Tiese’s hair billowing outward nearly imperceptibly and a ripple like a breeze in the air.

She turned to face forward again.

The enlarged Mate-Chopper had just made contact with Kirito’s shoulder. That was enough for the fabric of his black shirt to split. Asuna held her breath, anticipating the sight of her lover’s blood flowing.

But…instead, the Mate-Chopper stopped there.

In fact, it was inching back upward, bit by bit. But where was Kirito’s exhausted arm finding the strength…?

“Ah……,” murmured someone, either Ronie or Sortiliena.

Asuna saw it, too: another arm, golden and translucent, gripping the handle of the black sword.

A moment later, Kirito noticed it as well. His eyes widened, then his face scrunched up. Tears welled in his eyes and fell, glistening in the light.

His lips budged, too, but she couldn’t make out his voice.

Then, a moment later, a fierce scream erupted from his throat.

“Raaaaaaaaah!!”

He jolted the Mate-Chopper backward. PoH’s arms were thrown back, and he toppled over, swearing. Kirito promptly stood up from his kneeling position and thrust his broken white sword upward into the air.

“Release Recollection!!”

An impossibly bright burst of light covered everything, turning the world white. PoH put up a hand to block his face.

Through squinting eyes, Asuna saw the ugly, broken blade of the sword collecting the concentrated and crystallized light as it regenerated itself. In just a few seconds, the sword was whole again.

Schwing!! It flashed even brighter, a pulse that spread outward. After a moment of silence, a pure, grand wave of sound came into being, like hundreds, thousands of bells ringing at once. The four women looked around, wide-eyed.

The frozen-white VRMMO players from China and Korea sprouted millions of flowers—brilliant-blue roses, as delicate as if carved from lapis lazuli.

The great bloom of roses began to exude silver particles from the blossoms’ cores. It was pure life resources—Asuna understood on instinct that this was the HP of the players.

Players who had been surging with fury just minutes ago, ready to kill one another, now turned to pillars of light with their eyes peacefully closed. They vanished without pain or suffering of any kind. It was the most serene possible way to achieve a forced log-out.

Now the seeds of hatred PoH had tried to plant in the other players would not bloom into flowers of their own.

“What the hell…do you think you’re doing?!” snarled the reaper, his plot undone. But just as quickly, he regained his wild smirk and lifted his machete.

Asuna knew what he was planning to do. Now there were life resources—what the Underworlders would call “sacred power”—floating all over the battlefield from the millions of blue roses. He was going to use his weapon’s suction power to absorb all of it.

“Kirito…!” she cried, feeling a jolt of panic.

Absorbing the lives of two thousand murdered Japanese players earlier had caused the Mate-Chopper to swell to three times its size and given it power at least equal to Stacia’s GM equipment. If it absorbed ten times that number, PoH would turn into a demon…a true devil. If Kirito was immobilized from executing the wide-scale art, then Asuna would have to help…

But before she could will a last burst of strength into her wilted legs, she heard Yuuki’s voice again, whispering into her ear like a gentle breeze.

It’s all right…Look.

That was when Asuna realized that the silver lights gathering in midair and forming several rippling ribbon strips were completely ignoring PoH’s Mate-Chopper. No matter how hard he thrust it into the sky and focused, they made no motion toward the blade.

The voice sounded in her head again.

You said it, remember? Life is a tool that transports and relates the heart.

All these people from different countries who gathered in this place? They don’t really want to kill one another.

Everyone has the same wish. To go to a world of excitement and fun…A great, beautiful, thrilling world like the land of fairies where you and I met, Asuna…That’s all there is to it.

“…Yeah. You’re right, Yuuki,” Asuna whispered, inaudible to anyone else.

Right on that cue, Kirito lifted the black sword in his other hand so that both his swords were pointing to the sky. The swirling black clouds that PoH had summoned began to reverse direction and dissipate. A little hole of blue sky peeked through the center, allowing a ray of golden sun to hit the black blade and make it shine like crystal.

“Release Recollection,” Kirito said, for the second sword this time, savoring the sound of the words.

Instantly, the softly rippling sheets of silver began to knit themselves together and flow into the black sword.

“Suck!” screamed PoH in English, and he swung the Mate-Chopper to compete with the flow. But the ribbons had a mind of their own and avoided his evil dagger, fusing with Kirito’s sword instead.

“…Eugeo told me that Kirito’s black sword was once a gigantic cedar tree at the very far north of the human realm,” explained Tiese in a trembling voice.

Sortiliena nodded in recognition. “Of course…that’s why it has the ability to suck in sacred power…”

Their words fused with what she’d just heard Yuuki say, and Asuna finally understood the nature of what was happening.

If Kirito’s black sword had the ability to absorb resources, then why was it able to pull in what the blue roses were exuding, even though PoH’s Mate-Chopper couldn’t, despite the fact that it, too, had absorbing powers? That was because the evil dagger sucked in not life resources but death resources.

PoH himself had said it: The Mate-Chopper got stronger the more people it killed. If it was the owner’s power of imagination that granted the wicked knife the ability to absorb resources, then it could devour death resources spilled by bloody murder, but it could not suck up the life resources that the white sword coaxed out through nonlethal means.

But Kirito’s black sword was different. If it was originally created from a tree that grew on the strength of the earth and the sun, then both the sword and the mental association in the mind of its owner would allow it to absorb that life.

The white sword in his left hand froze targets across a wide stretch of land, releasing their life into the air.

The black sword in his right hand then sucked up that life power from all over, converting it to energy.

It was a very simple but thus incredibly powerful bit of synergy. The perfect pairing. Ideal partners.

As it drew in the vast length of silvery ribbon, the center of the black sword began to shine a dazzling golden color. The resources were traveling through the hilt into Kirito’s arm, as well.

His shriveled body, as skinny as a stick, rapidly began to regain its original strength. The recovery phenomenon wasn’t isolated to just his body; the shirt that had been ripped here and there during the fighting was instantly repaired. Fingerless gloves appeared on his hands, and riveted boots on his feet.

The line of light traveled from his shoulders down his arms, then down his back. A moment later, a shining black leather texture appeared there. It was his trademark long coat from the SAO days. When the ends of the coat settled down and lay still, the two sheaths lying discarded on the ground flew up and affixed themselves to his back in a crossed configuration.

“……Kiri…to……”

Asuna, overwhelmed by emotion, stared at the figure of Kirito the Black Swordsman, back in his dual-wielding form, through eyes blurred with tears. Sortiliena and Ronie had shining streaks down their cheeks on either side of her, too. Behind them, Tiese was sobbing.

A few seconds later, Kirito had finished absorbing all the ribbons of life, and he easily lowered his swords. The majority of the Chinese and Korean players on the battlefield had logged out already. Asuna turned around and indicated her gratitude with a look to the red knight who’d tried to save Klein. Then he, too, vanished, and the wasteland where so much horrible slaughter had taken place was as quiet as though it had never happened.

All she could hear was the sound of dry wind howling and the high-pitched squeaking of metal. It was coming from the black sword that glowed with a golden aura, engorged with so much energy.

PoH gave up on seizing resources at last and lowered the Mate-Chopper in silence. There was still a giant hole in his chest from Asuna’s Mother’s Rosario skill. When the resource power left in his wicked knife was depleted, his life would end.

That must have been clear to him, but he just stood there in silence now. No insults or taunts. He didn’t seem to be giving up, either. There was a freezing-cold aura exuding from his skin, and Asuna could feel it prickling her just from looking at him from a distance.

One side of his mouth curled into a sneer, and his lips parted.

“You really are the best, Kirito. Then and now, no one else has made me want to kill them as much as you do. I hate to bring this all to an end, but I’m not going to get a better stage to do it on than this one…”

PoH lifted the machete and thrust out his free hand. He beckoned with his long fingers, curling them to show off the tattoo of the laughing face in the coffin on the back of his hand.

“…Let’s enjoy this, Black Swordsman,” he said, an invitation of pure, concentrated malice.

“Yes,” Kirito agreed, “let’s end this.”

He spread his feet apart and dropped his hips, holding the white sword forward and the black sword behind him. The hostility and concentration between the two combatants intensified, sparks flying in the space between them.

As they’d both claimed, the next trading of blows would be the last, Asuna could sense. Her eyes were wide open, and her breath caught in her throat.

Another dry gust of wind blew past, and when it stopped, the Black Swordsman and the black reaper moved together.

PoH’s Mate-Chopper emitted a dark-red light, sticky and viscous in quality. As he shot forward with terrifying speed, his body split into three.

Asuna didn’t know this sword skill, but for his part, Kirito left his right sword down, activating his white sword with a crimson glow instead. That would be the One-Handed Sword skill Deadly Sins.

PoH slashed at him, forward, left, and right, but Kirito’s combination attack deflected each of them. The giant bloodred dagger and the ruby longsword caused the earth and the atmosphere to quake with each impact.

Once the three PoHs had attacked twice each, six times in total, the left and right afterimages vanished. The real one then pulled back and swung down ferociously. Kirito swiped at a left angle to block the attack. A shock wave and an explosion of sparks resulted.

Deadly Sins was a seven-part skill; it would cause Kirito to suffer a movement delay. If PoH had another attack ready, Kirito couldn’t defend against it.

The reaper’s hood blew back from the impact of his overhead swing being blocked, exposing his full appearance for the first time since the SAO days.

There was a ghastly smile on his face, which was fiercely sculpted and not quite Japanese looking. PoH swung his gloomy, glowing knife toward Kirito’s shoulder yet again: an eighth attack.

But in that moment, Kirito’s black sword flashed red. It was a shade deeper and hotter than that of Deadly Sins—the color of flame.

Canceling out the delay that should have lasted at least a full second, the black sword was thrust with impossible speed. He was executing a technique that only he could do: Skill Connect, a seamless transition between sword skills with separate weapons.

With a roar like a combustion engine firing, the heavy thrust Vorpal Strike met in midair with what was probably the last of an eight-part combination attack from PoH.

This caused the greatest shock wave of all, which rippled outward, creating cracks in the ground. It whipped up ferocious winds of dust and heat, but Asuna narrowed her eyes only the minimum amount necessary; she was determined to see the end of this duel.

When the gust of wind had dissipated, she saw the two of them motionless, tips of the black sword and red machete intersecting before them. The fight wasn’t over yet. They were focusing the maximum amount of energy into the minimum point of intersection, each pushing with all his strength to overpower the other.

In terms of the accumulated resources in each weapon, Kirito’s black sword ought to be utterly overwhelming PoH’s Mate-Chopper, but it wasn’t turning out that way. In this world, the power of imagination, the power to envision—what the knights called “Incarnation”—had the potential to overturn any numerical value.

The simplicity of PoH’s Incarnation was what made it so powerful. He fought to kill…to fill the world with discord, mistrust, hostility, and malice.

Then why did Kirito fight?

Here in this world, he had lost a treasured friend. And while there might have been external circumstances involved, he had experienced enough despair to be in a vacant state for half of an entire year. But now he was standing again, wielding his swords. What kind of Incarnation was giving him strength…?

Asuna couldn’t put the answer into words—but she didn’t think she needed to. Kirito had fought with so many things on his shoulders to this point. He’d done it in SAO, in ALO, and in GGO. He was doing it right now.

Hesitation, suffering, and sadness could be strength, too. Tears could be turned into light. And that light would never be defeated by PoH’s darkness.

Isn’t that right…Kirito?

Asuna didn’t know whether her prayer reached his ears. But just then, there was a faint but definite sound in response.

Crack.

PoH’s weapon of evil, the Mate-Chopper, created so that man could kill man, now had a glowing red crack running from tip to base like a bolt of lightning.

Then the huge machete burst into countless tiny shards—and Kirito’s Vorpal Strike extended onward for another twenty feet, obliterating PoH’s right arm.

Another gust of wind interfered with Asuna’s field of view. She could no longer sit; she had to rise. So did Tiese, Sortiliena, and Ronie, and behind them, Klein, Silica, and Lisbeth.

In time, the dust settled, revealing the two former SAO players locked in tight formation.

PoH’s remaining arm dangled at his side without a weapon, Kirito’s black sword penetrating deep through his chest. But that was the place where Asuna had burst the hole in the first place, so he didn’t appear to have suffered any new physical damage.

He smiled confidently, blood dripping from the hole and his mouth, probably because the Mate-Chopper was no longer providing him with the resources to keep him alive.

“…Yeah…that’s more like it. But…this isn’t the end. I might log out of this world, but I’ll always come back to threaten you,” he vowed. “Over and over, until I’ve slit your and Flash’s throats and carved out your hearts…”

Kirito betrayed no hint of emotion. He quietly replied, “No, this is the end. You won’t be logging out of the Underworld.”

The black sword flashed for a brief instant.

When the light subsided, Kirito slowly pulled the blade out of the hole in PoH’s chest and took a few steps back. Despite the lack of support, PoH did not collapse. The same awful grin was slapped across his face, and he tried to say something else.

But when his mouth opened, it made a creaking noise and froze in place. So did his limbs. They paused in an unnatural pose, cracking and changing texture. The shining black leather turned to a kind of fabric, covered in hairline cracks. The metal rivets became protruding lumps. The Grim Reaper was undergoing an abnormal transformation of sorts.

Kirito went on: “This sword was originally a huge tree that the people of Rulid called the Gigas Cedar. For two hundred years, they chopped at it with their axes, to no avail. I sent the memory of this sword into your body.”

Indeed, over half of the surface of PoH’s body was turning into a kind of charcoal-black tree bark. His legs fused into one limb, growing roots into the earth. His arms turned into eerily gnarled, twisted branches, and his hair sharpened into needles. Lastly, his eyes and mouth became a trio of small knotholes.

“When they see that the Chinese and Korean players are logging out, your friends will resume the time acceleration. I don’t know if it’ll be years or decades until you’re let out of the STL, but you’d better pray it’s on the shorter side. If some enterprising frontiersmen start a village here, you might have children coming to chop you down with an ax.”

It was impossible to say whether PoH actually perceived the words at this point. There was no longer a human being standing there across from Kirito, but an ugly cedar tree only six feet tall.

Kirito stared at the tree for a moment before turning to Asuna’s group. He smiled and nodded to them, then looked at the wounded Japanese players and Underworlders. He raised the black sword again, which still harbored a golden glow at its center.

“System Call. Transfer Durability to Local Area.”

Shaaaa…

A sound filled the battlefield, faint in volume but stretching from end to end.

It was raining.

The resources released by the sword took form in the sky overhead and descended to earth as little droplets of delicate light. The wounded and exhausted Japanese players and the members of the Human Guardian Army who were utterly spent from consecutive battles all felt their bodies being healed. And perhaps their hearts and minds, too…

Having expelled all of the black sword’s resources, Kirito put it and the white sword he was holding in his other hand back into their scabbards over his shoulders.

Asuna watched the black-clad swordsman take step after deliberate step through the all-healing rain of light. She couldn’t move or even speak. It felt like all of it would vanish if she spoke, returning to illusion. So she just kept her eyes open, smiled, and waited.

Instead, it was Klein who stepped forward.

His severed left arm and skewered torso were back to pristine condition. But the samurai still clutched his chest like he was in great pain, tottering forward.

“Kirito…Kirito, man…,” he said, his usual cheery self, though his voice cracked a bit. “You gotta stop it with takin’ all the juiciest, most heroic scenes…”

He was practically crying. The tall, lanky samurai grabbed the dual-swordsman in black by the shoulders and pressed his bandana-less forehead against the shorter man’s neck. His back trembled, and huge sobs left his throat.

“Aaah…aaaaaaaah…”

Kirito put his arms around his weeping friend’s back. He shut his eyes and clenched his jaws; there were shining tracks down his cheeks, too.

“…Kirito,” Ronie said. She got up and began to run for him. Teardrops flew off her face as she plowed straight into his shoulder. Sortiliena followed close behind her.

Even Agil’s eyes were wet. Lisbeth and Silica were hugging each other and crying. The Japanese players in the area—the ALO leaders like Sakuya, Alicia, and Eugene; Siune and Jun from the Sleeping Knights; and many others—had faces wet and shining, from both the rain of light and the tears that adorned their cheeks.

Even the soldiers and priests of the more distant Human Guardian Army were uniformly red-eyed. They knelt as a group, each pressing a fist to their chest and hanging their head in salute.

“……From the moment I first met him, I knew. I knew that he would save us all with his two swords,” said a gentle voice behind Asuna.

She turned around to see the young Integrity Knight Renly and his dragon mount behind him. Both had been gravely wounded, but the signs of their damage were now limited only to the armor they wore.

Asuna was so full of emotion that all she could do was nod once or twice. Renly’s head bobbed in return, then he walked to Tiese, who was still kneeling on the ground, and crouched next to her.

An examination of the battlefield showed that not a single one of the twenty thousand Chinese and Korean VRMMO players was left. Every last one was gone.

Once the attackers discovered that the players had logged out, they would surely cancel their strategy of bringing in real-world help and raise the acceleration rate to maximum again. Once that happened, Klein and all the others using AmuSpheres would automatically get kicked out.

Kirito must have been aware of that, too. He clapped Klein on the shoulder, pulled away, and looked out on the rest of the Japanese players.

Then he bowed his head deeply and said, “Thank you, everyone…Your feelings for me, and the blood and tears you shed, will not go to waste. Truly, thank you all.”

Yes…the battle was not over yet.

The deadly PoH and his army of American, Chinese, and Korean players were gone, but there was still the head honcho of the enemy left, Emperor Vecta. He had kidnapped Alice the Integrity Knight, the core of Project Alicization, and was flying south at this very moment to the distant World’s End Altar.

Asuna sucked in a deep breath and stood up at last. She made her way through the other players, all standing stock-still and reeling with their own emotions, and walked steadily toward Kirito.

He lifted his face and looked straight at her.

For an instant, she was seized by a powerful urge, and she held her breath.

She wanted to leap into the arms of her beloved. She wanted to cry with the abandon of a child, to unleash all her pent-up emotions.

But she kept them in check for now—barely—and reported the present concern.

“Kirito…Emperor Vecta took Alice.”

“Yeah. I do remember the situation, if fuzzily,” Kirito said, his expression sharp. He held out his hand. “Let’s go save her. I’ll need your help, Asuna.”

“……!……”

It was all she could take.

Asuna rushed over to seize his hand and pressed it to her cheek.

His other arm went around her back and pulled her in close.

The embrace was only momentary, but Asuna felt that, within that moment, an incredible amount of information that couldn’t be expressed in words was traded between them.

He gazed into her eyes again, right up close, nodded, and looked to the sky to the south. He raised his right hand in that direction, his fingers waving around as if searching for something.

“……Found them.”

“Huh…?” Asuna murmured, but Kirito only grinned and did not elaborate.

He looked around at the rest of the group again, clapped Klein on the shoulder, rubbed Ronie’s head, and said, “Well, we’re off.”

And then…

Lisbeth watched as Kirito and Asuna burst off into the sky, glowing brilliant green and heading south at a phenomenal speed. She blinked a few times in surprise, then exhaled long and slow.

“Well, I guess he hasn’t lost his edge or his sense of abandon…”

Nearby, Silica giggled.

Klein clapped his hands together. “Damn, who does he think he is…?” he shouted, then name-dropped the hero of an action comic from generations ago. “He’s freakin’ invincible. He always gets all the best scenes, I tell ya…”

Fresh tears glistened on his cheeks. Ever since they’d first met in Aincrad and he’d been smitten by Kirito, the youth had always been that to Klein: an invincible, unstoppable, eternal hero.

He is to me, too.

Lisbeth looked to the south, her vision clouded by endless tears. She wanted to commit this world to her memory before she logged out in a few moments, never to return to it.

All so she could relate the image to the many players who’d been logged out in agony and humiliation, to let them know that their painful efforts were not in vain.