[SP-F01] The First Few Lessons

[Miyukii 0]

The gentle breeze rolling through Tolbana’s cobbled streets carried the faint scent of fresh bread and the distant clamor of metal striking metal. Miyuki stood just inside the southern gate, her hand resting lightly on the hilt of her curve sword, eyes scanning the new surroundings. This town was different than the crowded Town of Beginnings — smaller, quieter… yet still unnervingly real.

She exhaled slowly. It had been weeks since she entered this world. Weeks since she'd lost sight of the friend who'd dragged her into it. The longer she waited in safety, the louder that whisper in her heart grew:

"You're wasting your strength."

Her fingers tightened on the sword’s hilt.

"You're not a scared little girl anymore," she whispered to herself.

Before she could take another step, a voice called out across the plaza.

“You there! Stop, please!”

She turned to find a man — prim, proper, with a monocle that gleamed like glass caught in sunlight — hurrying toward her with long, deliberate strides. His mustache twitched with each breath, and as he reached her, he adjusted his coat like a merchant preparing for a performance.

“Pardon me, but I am in need of some assistance, and you appear quite capable,” he began, his voice refined, if not a little theatrical.
“My name is Dorian, and I am the mayor of this town. I issued a loan a few months ago, and... well, it seems I’ve misplaced the name of the borrower.”
Seriously? Miyuki blinked.
“Should you be willing to track down the recipient and collect the col, I would be eternally grateful,” he added with a sheepish look and a dramatic mustache twirl.

A quiet moment passed before Miyuki responded.

“…You’re asking a samurai to become a debt collector?” she asked, half-sarcastic, half-intrigued.

Dorian chuckled nervously, “A noble samurai’s duty is to serve the people, is it not?”

She narrowed her eyes at that. "You’re lucky I’ve read too many Edo-era novels to say no to that line."

With a small nod, she accepted the quest.

“Excellent! You might begin with Zackariah, the alchemist. He’s been dabbling in many town affairs lately — might’ve been him. His shop’s just down the east alley.”

As Dorian turned to leave, Miyuki muttered, “Of course the alchemist is involved…”

She stepped forward with purpose — not because she wanted to play errand girl, but because this was the start of something. A lesson, maybe.

But more than that… a test of whether the warrior in her stories could truly survive in the world of Aincrad.

[Miyukii 0]

The sign outside the alchemy shop swayed gently in the wind, its iron chains creaking above the door. Miyuki hesitated at the threshold. The faint scent of herbs, boiled mushrooms, and… cheese? …wafted through the cracks of the door.

Smells like something between dinner and disaster, she thought, wrinkling her nose.

Pushing inside, her eyes immediately widened.

Shelves upon shelves of vividly colored potions lined the shop’s interior — glowing greens, soft pinks, misty blues. Every bottle seemed to hum faintly with digital life, a coded heartbeat in this artificial world. A cluttered counter sat at the center, behind which a bearded old man hovered over a bubbling flask.

“Oh, hello!” he called out absently, not even looking up as violet steam billowed past his face. “If you’re here for an order, I’m afraid I’m rather swamped today…”

Miyuki stepped forward, clearing her throat gently. “Dorian sent me. Said you might’ve borrowed something.”

That got his attention. The man blinked rapidly and lifted his goggles, squinting at her as if she’d just insulted his potion-making.

“Dorian? Loaned me something?” He let out a short laugh. “No, I don’t think so. I give, I don’t borrow. Though… hmm.”
He paused, then smiled. “Tell you what, while you’re here — I could use a hand. Running out of supplies, and my knees don’t exactly sprint like they used to. If you could gather a few things from the outskirts, I’d consider it a personal favor.”

Miyuki raised an eyebrow, arms crossed. “You want me to pick flowers for you now, too?”

Zackariah merely pointed toward the back of the shop. “Help me out, and I’ll show you how to make your own potions. Oh, and try the fondue. Helps with gathering — trust me.”

She followed the gesture, finding a small bubbling pot perched over a low flame. The smell hit her stronger this time — rich cheese and something oddly floral. She stared at it. Was it safe? Probably not. But this world wasn’t built for comfort.

“Samurai adapted to survive,” she murmured, recalling one of her favorite quotes.

With a steady breath, she dipped a crust of bread into the fondue and took a bite.

The warmth surprised her — not just the heat, but the odd sensation of her senses sharpening just slightly. A system notification blinked in the corner of her vision:

You have consumed Zackariah’s Fondue.
(+3 LD bonus active for remainder of quest)

She wiped her hands and turned back to the alchemist. “I’ll get your supplies. Flowers. Herbs. Whatever else you need.”

Zackariah nodded with a gentle smile, already turning back to his concoction. “Be safe out there, young one. The fields may look peaceful, but this world doesn’t take kindly to hesitation.”

Miyuki’s grip found her curve sword again as she exited the shop.

No hesitation, she repeated to herself.
The only way forward… is through.