Acanthus

What just happened? The last thing she remembered, she had taken a step back. It must have been her fourth mistake. Jomei had followed her momentum, seizing the split-second to connect with his mystery weapon. It passed through her shield. Ah, phase. Unique enchantment. Upon critical hit, it— A flashbang went off in her mind, and Acanthus came to about five meters away from the duelist. She felt like someone had put her in a dryer loaded with fireworks and slammed the door shut. Slowly, the edges of her vision returned. Jomei was smirking. Smirking! Her reaction was immedia

“I’m not making a fool of myself this time.” His eyes flashed, and Acanthus stepped back involuntarily. The man she’d met on the beach wasn’t gone, but the person before her—this was the veteran of the frontlines she had expected on the beach. I’ve only cleared one floor and I feel like I’m losing my mind. He’s cleared a dozen floors, and he still acts… so clearly. So intently. He smiled like he was reading her mind. Acanthus hopped back again, wary like a wounded animal. He had yet to hit her, and still, she felt like the prey here. His sword began to glow with a familiar light. A stun!

20,000 col slid across the table in a small sack. “I'm interested in the weapon. It has a unique design—I'm guessing another player helped create it. Go through your list of appraisers and blacksmiths, ask them what they know. I've interacted with a few of the master blacksmiths, so if they hear me asking about Jomei's weapon right before the match, they might tip him off. And I'll pay more for anything else you come up with, so don't be afraid to investigate anything else. Aliases, titles, quests completed—even his bank account. Anything can be useful.” A few days later, she got her doss

Acanthus exited the Fortaleza bazaar. The place teemed with life: proud merchants hawking their wares, players milling through the shops, enjoying the arid, sunny skies. Wulfrin had just taken a new flock of players out into the desert, soon to return much wiser, and entirely unharmed. The whole process exhausted her. The merchants hawked the same wares with the same lines every day. Players shopping here were fools, spending their scraps of col on mediocre items. The real gear comes from high floors and random monsters, but these people didn’t know that. They’d probably never been a

THREAD SUMMARY Experience: Acanthus | [Word Count: 11479/10 = 1147.9] * [True Tier: 7] * [Group Factor: 0.7] = 5625 + 300 (quest) = 5925 EXP Morrigan | [Word Count: 11479/10 = 1147.9] * [True Tier: 1] * [Group Factor: 0.7] = 804 + 300 (quest) = 1104 EXP Col: Acanthus: 843 (laurel wreath) Morrigan: 400 (bonus) Other: Acanthus and Morrigan receive 1 familiar skill of their choosing.

Acanthus blinked. It was her first mistake. Her eyes fluttered open to find Jomei within striking distance, rapier sailing towards her. Her shield barely caught the point of his blade, turning it aside almost by chance. The Duelist recovered instantly, working his way around her defenses, determined to find an opening. In her mind, “evasion tank” had just meant he was hard to hit. Acanthus realized too late that “too fast to hit” meant “too fast to block.” The tip of his blade flashed in yet again, parried at the last possible moment. I can’t keep this up, she realized with some fear. Soo

The player request board always seemed like a hit or miss situation for Acanthus. She’d had great luck finding a steady clientele for her songs, and even picking up odd jobs for other players. As for questing, it tended to work well: she had great success with the last event by putting up a last-minute call for adventurers. But when it didn’t work well, it was a miserable experience. Dozens of times she had to wave off under-leveled players, oblivious to their own abilities. Half of them hoped vainly for someone to carry them through difficult content—one man promised her 10 million yen in the

The third time Acanthus had ordered ice on floor nine was the one that finally made her give up. It wasn’t even the fact that her third cup had been lukewarm, sulfur water. It was the laughs that she swore the bartender shared with the other patrons of the bar. But she was distracted today. Her hand wandered around the edge of the cheap iron mug, tracing the dents as her mind focused on other things. Her face was set like an iron mask that reminded her of the glass. I wonder if I’m earning any dents during my time here. I’m probably just not noticing them. That was just the way worked her

THREAD SUMMARY Experience: [Word Count: 5820/10 = 582] * [True Tier: 7] * [Group Factor: 1] = 4074 EXP + 1500 (quest) = 5574 experience Col: 2000 (quest) + 12180 (Please the Crowd x3) + 611 (laurel wreath) + 400 (bonus) + 143671 (looting) = 158,862 col Other: Requirements satisfied: TECH-F unlocked (again) <<To Defend the Title>> Unlocked. Loot Totals 143671 col 28 Materials 4 Demonic Shard [240691a][240717a][240716a][240740a] 4 Dungeon Map [240691b][240717b][240716b][240740b] T4 Perfect Weapon: [240705a][240705b][240705c][240704b] T4 Perfect Trinket:

So KILL. The words filled her mind, vibrating in her skull until there were no other thoughts. Shedding the last of the armor clinging to her body, she tackled Auron to the ground. Kicking and punching, the pair rolled through the sand, each one desperately trying to finish off the other's health bar. Auron drove his fist into her cheek, causing her neck to snap to the side. He chose to double down, attempting to connect one more time. But the second time, she caught his hand by the wrist and twisted. He twitched in pain, leaving his neck wide open. Acanthus dove into the opening and

Her brain hummed with delight, intuiting the bloodiest path through her enemies. She settled on a quick jaunt through the three nameless foes. She would save Auron for last. Turning to weather a clubbing strike to the back, she heard her armor crack with a satisfying sound. Bits of metal loosened from her chest, and she shook them off like a dog drying itself. Auron laughed at the sight. “I didn’t mean for you to take the name-calling literally. Although it does make for an amusing spectacle." She was not listening. The first gladiator was already down in a whirl of blood and screams; the

The fight turned into a slog. Even with her second wind, this much fighting in one sitting took its toll. Acanthus rolled under the first bestiarii's stab, bringing her sword up to connect with his throat. Such a clean cut would have been lethal in real life, but here, the man turned around and countered with a pointed jab. It wasn't fair. The men surrounded her, herding her around the coliseum like a raging bull. Every time they struck, she lashed out, draining their health. Auron stayed back, content to let his rabble do the work. He made sure to continue taunting her as she fended them

The two clashed in the middle of the area, drowning in the cries of the audience. It seemed equally split between rooting for the unhinged underdog and the collected champion. Auron narrowly avoided an overhead slice as he took a swig from his gourd. "I like fighting closer. I don't have to yell my insults." He juked a sword art just as Acanthus unleashed it, bringing his sword down on her side. "All the savagery and predictability of a dog." "Better an animal than a program," Acanthus retorted. His sword cracked into her breast plate ineffectually, sundering it while sparing her health. S

Acanthus paced the arena fruitlessly, hoping her tormentor would appear at last. It had been so long since it had whispered to her. There had been some part of her that hoped it had moved on. Even then, she knew it was a vain dream. But that didn't make its reintroduction any easier. She still had no idea what the thing was. Maybe it was part of some hidden quest, or a strange monster she'd stumbled into early. But if anyone else had encountered the thing, they hadn't spoken up about the experience. Part of Acanthus wondered if she was going crazy. She laughed breathlessly at the thought

This was her chance. Acanthus scrambled to her feet as the brute worked the sword out of the wall. If she could keep him off balance, it would be enough. It would have to be enough. She visualized the stunning art again, and let the flow of the fight command her. The light of the sword art welled up in her sword, releasing as Acanthus drove her blade through the man's leg. He yelled, thrashing around with his free hand to create distance. Acanthus hopped back, barely dodging a thick fist aimed at her head. Sword free and immeasurably furious, the man limped at her, shouting what she assu

She coughed, her body reflexively clearing the nonexistent blood from her lungs. If this were real life, that hit would have killed her. Worse, she was losing the crowd. Pulling a crystal from her belt, she unleashed Edict's Threnody to unbalance the monstrosity, but even the wailing cries of her crystal were lost in the wall of sound. Her opponent lumbered towards her, hefting the human-sized sword for another attack. Blocking again was out of the question, but she had dug her own grave when she dropped her evasion for other stats. Stats?! She screamed at herself. Fuck your stats, just r

Cardinal loved nothing more than a good story, and it adopted the rule of threes as well as any human. Acanthus prepared herself for the last fight to be the worst of all, and Cardinal was happy to oblige. Her next opponent appeared to be more wall than human: massive, draped in finery and coated in armor, with a massive shield and sword to match. The game had forsaken historicity for fantasy with a sword that easily dwarfed Acanthus. She prepared herself mentally. There would be no time to please the crowd. She would fight as she could, and it was up to them to enjoy it or not. One swipe

As she backed up once again, something heavy caught her left foot. Her head bounced as she fell flat in the coliseum. The crowd was eager for her to die. They cheered the boxer's name loudly. "Ramos! Ramos!" He appeared to have no interest in the whims of the crowd; instead, he approached to finish off Acanthus. She cursed her clumsiness—of all the times to trip. And on what? The ring was nothing but sand… The pieces clicked together in her mind. Eyes locked on the boxer's impending haymaker, she seized the object under her feet and lashed out, puncturing the sky. The boxer's fist halted

Acanthus had hoped to impress the crowd a little longer, but she needed to save some effort for the final fight. Health aside, her stamina was beginning to wane. The boxer, a figment of Cardinal's imagination, had no such restrictions. It continued its assault against Acanthus, who weathered the blows as best she could. But her luck was giving out, and the crowd knew it. They were now cheering for this nameless nobody. It infuriated her. Botan lay in the dirt just a few meters behind her. Turning entirely would expose her to a potentially quest-ending rain of blows. But more importantly,

Without a sound, the boxer ducked into range, elbows tight and high. He jabbed fast, aiming for the head. Acanthus pivoted back, raising her forearms to block the flurry. Her body tingled as the pain indicators sounded their pathetic alarms. The rock had hurt more than this. The boxer continued his assault, throwing some lower shots into the mix. Acanthus' armor made it harder to move, but also blocked the brunt of the boxer's beating. As he wound up for a low hook, Acanthus seized the moment. Palm out, she wrapped her arm around the boxer's outstretched hand, struck his chest twice, and

Her second opponent stepped spritely into the ring. He was much more compact that the broad-chested trident user, sporting only a loincloth and an ungainly helmet to hide the important bits. Acanthus initially thought he had been sent out into the ring weaponless, until she saw the leather straps wrapped around his hands. A boxing match, then. With a theatrical shrug, she tossed botan aside, and the crowd gasped as it tumbled in the dirt. Breathe. In, and out. Acanthus swung her leg back and bent her knees, adopting the solid footwork imparted by the master on floor two. The boxer's

There was a reason for all of this, she repeated to herself. After talking with Baldur and some of the other veterans, she realized there was a kind of experience did not have: the experience of fighting other players. It was foolish of her to assume that her toughest opponents would always be monsters, or beasts, or other nonhumans. Bandits and low-level mobs didn't count: they could be dispatched in a swipe or two. But should a floor boss—or even another player—ever try to kill her, she would have little experience to defend herself with. A grasp of the sword arts and game mechanics would no

In an opening that lasted only a fraction of a second, Acanthus cut through the gladiator's torso in two brutal strikes, causing him to vanish before the thud of his body on the floor could satisfy the crowd. They cheered for her anyways. Acanthus buried the tip of botan in the sandy ground. It was a careless way to treat the gift, but the audience loved a careless spirit. Feigning a wipe of her brow, Acanthus looked around the empty arena floor. "Was that it? I'm not even warmed up. Tell them to send me another!" Acanthus wondered if there were any real players in the stands, watc

How is that not clear? I killed her. Over and over again, I killed her, until the only thing left was the part of me able to clear the game. The gladiator stood weakly, gripping his trident. His face remained hidden, but his stance told her everything; he had already given up. It's not my fault that whatever remains enjoys this. She stood back, preparing to kill the man with a move that would appease the crowd for sure. A deep vermillion warmth radiated along the blade, pouring from the tip of her sword. Rose petals rose and fell on an invisible breeze, and the cheers of the

"Are you done watching this man fight for his life?!" She barely had to raise her voice; the acoustics of the coliseum and the game itself carried her voice. Her eager fans could barely contain themselves. So what if they were all NPCs? They loved her. "I hope you aren't, because I'm not done making him work for it." The gladiator raised his weapon to strike, but she tore the trident from his hands. With a flourish, she lifted the weapon above her head and brought the butt down on the man's jaw. The crack of his bones barely sounded above the raucous crowd. He collapsed into the dirt. Ac