Acanthus

A streak of red dust vanished in the distance, ending at a stony wall. Finally. The next question was obvious: how do I get inside? Had it not been for reveal, the cliffside appeared perfectly normal: its jagged face climbed up and out of sight, crowded by trees and other greenery that hid the sky. No blemishes or smoothness marked an entrance. Perhaps a pass phrase was required. As she opened her mouth to speak, she felt static on her tongue. Her lips rolled backwards at the unpleasant feeling, and her hand reached up to feel what was the matter. Nothing felt out of place; a quick l

Acanthus blinked a few times, wondering how to summon her new skill. It supposedly made dungeons much easier to find. But how was she supposed to use it? She blinked again. Maybe there was some kind of pattern? Surely it didn’t involve going into and out of the menu to activate it. What if the solution was painfully obvious? “Reveal.” Her normal vision washed away, replacing objects with faint outlines of themselves. Some objects flashed green or white; those appeared to contain trace materials or col that she could gather. But she’d already established gathering was a waste of time. Mons

That did the trick. And in about sixty percent of the time she had allocated for the task. What to do next? If Pinball were here, then they could go pick up some lootable mobs and wipe them out for easy col. You idiot. You don’t need him for the loot minimum mobs anymore. Just go out and do it yourself. She almost opened her map to look for some high-level areas she’d previously marked. Instead, her finger brushed up onto her inventory, pulling up a list of disorganized junk that made her spine shiver. She’d get around to organizing it someday. Right before she closed it, the pile of unus

She could hear the boss’s labored breathing through the dense green leaves. One last attack would finish it off. Charging into the brush, she prepared to end the fight. The cat, unused to its prey charging into its domain, waited a brief moment before turning into a ball of teeth and claws. It scratched and bit at her gear, but no amount of rage would penetrate her armor. She let the thing tire itself out before delivering the coup de grace. She was careful to avoid looking at its eyes. She hadn’t shaken how pitiful Kumatestu appeared in its final moments. She had no doubt the game would

Acanthus leveled her sword and issued a challenge to the cat. “Pspspspspspspsps.” With a touch of lethargy, the cat leapt from the foliage to attack once more. Reflexively, Acanthus moved to dodge the attack. I should be letting myself get hit. It hurts the boss more than it hurts me. But she found it difficult to suppress her instincts. Scared or not, when something giant leaps out of the bushes, its only natural to try and move out of the way. Batting away the thing’s swiping paws, she brought her sword up, and drove it between the cat’s shoulders. It yowled and leaped back into th

The cat’s health moved down steadily, while Acanthus’s could barely go down before her battle healing brought it back up. And with her high energy reserves (which she appreciated having after the meager EN granted in the player-killing tournament), Suturesu would be dead before she even realized it. The only frustrating thing about the fight was how quick the puma was to dodge her attacks. Of course when Cardinal has evasion, it always works. But when players use it, Cardinal just chews through their defenses anyways with lucky hits. Her songs unleashed their baleful cries, but the boss h

But as the cat leapt from the shadows again, its paws barely grazed her half-plate armor. And Acanthus was reminded that in a worst-case scenario, mitigation was always important. Evasion was useful until the boss cornered you, and you had nowhere to go. Then, what was protecting you? Some people made it work. Jomei had survived Callisto’s wrath using speed and wits. But Acanthus didn’t have much of either. She was best suited for simplistic probabilities and pessimistic outcomes. And her pessimism strongly led her to a single point; she was always going to get hit at the worst times. Why

Standing here, unassailable against one of the later bosses, Acanthus almost felt bored. She still appreciated the sense of control these predetermined fights had, but they didn’t excite her. It was the equivalent of being the low-level employee forced to go out and get coffee, or the unfortunate clerk stuck with refiling a disorganized cabinet. It was necessary work, but it was the kind of work that didn’t leave you feeling like you’d done anything useful. Suturesu melted back into the jungle, and Acanthus’s mind wandered. The thing would be back on its own time, out of the darkness to h

A presence approached from behind her. She felt a tingle in her spine as the game warned her of the impending boss. The reaction was purely physical; mentally, she was no more alarmed than if she’d seen a cat in an alley. She angled her body slighty, trying to spot the puma without spooking it. “One-hundred and twenty five damage,” she said. “You can try to break through my defenses, but I think you will be hard pressed. The only question for today is how long the fight will last. And that’s entirely up to you, Suturesu.” The shadows became solid as the lithe boss prepared to attack. Acan

Acanthus navigated the deep jungle terrain with the help of her quest map. Normally, she would enjoy the process of exploring. It was a good way to stumble into new farming locations, or even a quest previously missed by the other players. Today, her goal was singular, and that was to kill the guardian that resided in the temple on floor twenty. The jungle temple jutted up from the decaying undergrowth as a reminder of a long-lost civilization. A civilization that has been around since the start of this game, Acanthus joked dryly. But the creators had done a stellar job with the details.

It had been long enough since the colossus that she had gained quite a few levels. Enough that the puma wouldn’t pose any kind of threat to her anymore. Her mind wandered back to that first leg of the quest, Kumatetsu. She’d done nothing except survive that quest, while Pinball did all the killing for her. Although she couldn’t pinpoint the feeling back then, she could now—helplessness. And she hated that feeling of helplessness. Thank Cardinal, she wasn’t helpless anymore. Acanthus had survived a floor boss. She had run quests and field bosses with the strongest players the game had to o

Link to Quest Dear Pinball, | Her fingers hovered over the virtual keyboard, directionless. It had been months since she last laid eyes on her friend. (At least, it felt like months. Time always seemed to move oddly in Aincrad.) Acanthus wasn’t terribly worried about the absence: he still showed up as online—in other words, alive—whenever she began a message to him. And his company had been sporadic even on the first half of their journey together. Pinball had a way of disappearing at the drop of a hat, and turning up whenever he felt like it. And as someone that preferred her own so

THREAD SUMMARY Experience | [Word Count: 6246/10 = 624.6] * [True Tier: 8] * [Group Factor: 1] = 4997 EXP Col | 749 (Laurel Wreath) + 400 (Bonus) = 1149 Col Mon | 1 Mon earned.

“I guess you’re still a decent doctor after all.” Argent, Acanthus, and Saitou sat around a small table at the back of Mucksucker’s. The room was filled with all of the other players from the floor, including Flechette, who had “dropped that dumbass Knight in a bog so deep it wouldn’t find its way back until the game was done.” The atmosphere was one of muted celebration. The knights weighed heavily on their minds, but nobody had died, and that was reason enough to celebrate. Acanthus leaned on her makeshift crutch with a hint of exasperation. Her antics had worsened her leg debuff e

Fifteen minutes later, an exhausted Argent walked back into the safe zone. His button down was grimy with water and leaves, and his slacks had a hundred small snags and tears. He had made it back alive, but the celebration had been postponed. “Out of the fire and into hell, it looks like.” Saitou lay against the teleportation obelisk with his hand outstretched. The place where the Knight had grabbed him appeared infected with a strange disease. Cracks of intense white light had covered every centimeter of his hand, and two of his fingers had already unraveled. “Grundar died a lot qui

A bolt of light arced through the dim sky, illuminating the town in a blinding glow. As the bolt closed in on their position, Acanthus and Saitou squinted to avoid the flash. Even the unfeeling Knight seemed to stop and observe the strange light racing toward its helm. The bolt connected with a piercing clap, and the Knight stumbled back, its head skewered by the still-crackling bolt of energy. In a flash, the Knight forgot Acanthus and focused on its new, distant foe. Argent stood tall on a rooftop and nocked a second arrow. As he drew back, the arrow transformed into pure light. He shou

The southwest barricade was in shambles. The brief efforts of the town had been trashed in a single swipe. Debris littered the walkways, and the support beams beneath groaned under the weight of the Spectral Knight. Saitou laid over a nearby walkway, having been thrown from the barricade in the blast. The Knight approached him slowly. Acanthus scanned the area and was crestfallen to see Argent was not there. The town was too small for him to get lost—but where had he gone? He was likely the only thing standing between Saitou and the Knight. Aren’t you here? Her subconcious began

An explosion rocked the town. Eriwald buckled, each stilted house swaying precariously as the force of the tumbling barricade shook everyone from their feet. Argent was up in a flash, sprinting towards the source. Acanthus was up next, leg pulsing with that distant static. Before running, she looked to the crowd. “Stay in groups of two, three if you can. Keep an eye on each of the entrances to Eriwald. If you can’t reach me or Argent, find Flechette. You said you know the routes outside of town?” The young boy gave a courageous nod. “You bet! I’ll have ‘em knee deep in algae and swamp bugs bef

The players of Eriwald gathered in the town square, focused on Argent. His command of the group impressed Acanthus. Argent spoke clearly yet softly, but the silence of the crowd carried his voice through them. “We’ve got one Knight coming from the south. We should be prepared for the worst and assume the other Knight is with him. Brag, Flechette; are you two able to lure them away as usual?” A teenager’s hand shot up from the crowd. “Brag is down on the first floor visiting his brother. Just me today.” Argent’s face dropped. “He picked a terrible day to be a good brother. Crow, we’ve

Putting up barricades with one good hand frustrated Acanthus. Her abilities were limited to short distances and light boxes. She tried testing her bound hand once, only to find it totally numb. Her HUD told her that she could reclaim her hand in another sixteen hours. She knew a real broken wrist would be much worse, but losing access to her hand still felt humiliating. Saitou, easily thirty years her senior, was running laps around her. He was currently balanced on a wall of conjoined boxes about two meters tall. “Hand me the hammer, girl. Mine just lost durability.” Acanthus looked up i

“I’d like to help as well, Argent.” Acanthus pushed up with her good hand, swaying as she stood. “I can’t do much, but it’s better than sitting on the crates uselessly.” “I’m honestly just shocked that you’re not trying to slip away while I’m busy. You seemed pretty reluctant to stay under observation in the first place.” “It’s not like I can do anything with my arm and leg messed up like this,” Acanthus complained. “I’m too screwed up to go on a real quest. I’m basically useless.” Argent’s familiar hand squeezed her shoulder, and he frowned at her. “Acanthus, stop saying that.

“What’s Saitou’s problem?” Argent walked towards the boxes where Acanthus sat uncomfortably. “If I had to guess, he doesn’t like being told his home is a dump.” “But it is. I didn’t mean to be rude, but look at this place. I know it’s a Safe Zone so it’s not falling into the swamp anytime soon. But what do they like about Eriwald?” Argent plopped down on the boxes next to her. “I don’t know. I would never want to live here. But that doesn’t deprive Saitou and the others of their right to settle down in Bug-opolis on the Swamp.” “It’s a terrible decision.” Argent made a non-

“Backup? Where do you think we are? The Aincrad Liberation front doesn’t come up this far, and the frontlines don’t come down this low.” “Then why don’t you just leave? This looks like a terrible place to live anyways.” Saitou’s glare turned murderous. Acanthus realized she had said something she shouldn’t have a moment too late. Thankfully, Argent stepped forward. “Saitou, let’s head over and drop these off together. After that, let’s talk about getting some barricades up, and discuss some long-term solutions to your Spectral Knight problem. Acanthus, wait by the plaza for me. I’ll

“Lucky girl. Ours seems hellbent on finding NPCs to eat. Jokes on them—Eriwald ain’t nothing but a dozen shacks and two NPCs. One NPC, now.” Saitou’s assessment was on the mark. Eriwald might have been the smallest Main Settlement Acanthus had ever been in. The whole place was barely a row of houses, each built on stilts that leaned dangerously into the murky water. Two dozen players stood behind Saitou, looking fearful and hopeful all at once. “Well, I’m keeping ya, Argent. If you could drop the crates off at Muck’s, Thrymr and CrowHunter will sort through ‘em and hand ‘em out.”

“Things? There’s more than one?” Acanthus wormed her way into the conversation once again. Saitou gave her a dull look. “Yes, girlie. There was just the one, and then it went off and ate Grundar the Blacksmith. No, it didn’t literally eat the damn thing,” Saitou interjected before Acanthus could speak. “That’s just what the kids called it when it… when it did whatever it did.” “Did it look like he was… breaking, I think it the best word for it.” One immovable eyebrow raised slowly. “Yea, that’s about right. Cracked like a bad mirror. Bad luck, my grandfather always said. Bad luck to