"Deep in the Cherry Blossom Forest, you'll run into the guy guarding a tree. Talk to him, and the battle will trigger. Be careful. His stats are terrifyingly high. Even with my full Agility build, I barely managed to shake off his pursuit. Thinking back on it, his aggro range was absurdly wide too."
Those were Argo's exact words, her assessment of the Field Boss in the Labyrinth Tower where Fallen Sakura Field was located.
Aside from the fact that the opponent was a Field Boss, there was almost no other information. As intelligence went, it was far too crude. It was hardly enough to serve as the basis for a strategy. But someone's inventory was excessively luxurious. Healing Crystals and Teleportation Crystals were stocked by the set, enough to fight a battle of attrition purely with Col.
In that case, even a Floor Boss could probably be worn down.
As long as they were not killed in two or three hits.
But even the Floor Boss on the current floor should not be able to kill these two in just two or three hits, right?
...
The Blade of the Ancient Scroll was as thin as a cicada's wing, its elegant curve just right. The untreated blade was pitch-black from end to end. Its overly slender appearance looked far too fragile at first glance, giving the illusion that even a collision might snap it. Yet whenever a cold, dark gleam flickered across that deep black surface as it cut through the air, all that remained was suffocating lethality.
It was exactly like a falling bladed leaf. As it drifted down, it gave no sense of threat, but once it brushed past the neck, a line of blood would suddenly bloom.
It no longer resembled a curved sword category weapon that sought balance between wide, powerful swings and speed. It was not suited for fierce clashes against swords or halberds at all. Its only destination was the enemy's body. The throat, the heart. It sought only to sever the line of life and end it.
Satoru's dusty gray hooded cloak seemed to have become the sheath of the Blade of the Ancient Scroll. Once it flashed out from the shadow of the garment behind him, a black silhouette crisscrossed with blade marks appeared before him. Even the orange-red light inherent to curved sword skills was swallowed by the blade's blackness.
After that, the black blade slipped back into the cloak, the calm return to the sheath of a swordsman whose creed was to kill with one strike after drawing.
Ronin sought their way of life before blood on the blade tip and flowers after the spring rain, composing the beauty of withering life.
After obtaining this black sword shaped like a tachi, Satoru's fighting style seemed to have become quiet and ruthless. But in the end, he was only a power leveler. He had never studied properly, nor did he understand the pure heart of a samurai intoxicated by the blade while praising the beauty of decay. Asking a useless man who had once spent most of his time in front of a computer to become that kind of swordsman was asking far too much.
This way of fighting was merely a compromise with Infinite Sword. Even now, he still acted according to reality. Picking up a blade and fighting with it was something he had no choice but to do.
Therefore, someone so far removed from that path had no right to glimpse the realm of ultimate intent, let alone the divine realm beyond it.
One could tell just by looking at him.
Even here, in a Labyrinth Tower filled with cherry-blossom color, with fallen petals scattered across the damp earth after the rain, a faint fragrance lingering around them, the cherry forest rustling whenever the wind blew, and a faint shower of flowers rising as bright sunlight threaded down between blossom and blossom.
None of that could pierce his shabby, earth-colored cloak or shine into the eyes hidden behind his long, unkempt bangs.
He was completely out of place in this vivid, beautiful Labyrinth Tower. The places suited to him were still alleys where trash cans lay overturned, or night wastelands where only beasts prowled.
One slash, one sword skill. He tore apart the monsters blocking his path however he pleased. No matter how beautiful this place was, it was still a Labyrinth Tower. Besides the usual beasts, there were also plant monsters disguised as cherry trees. His movements carried no hesitation, and he had no thought of admiring the scenery.
He stepped heavily on the soft, wet mud, as if crushing all the petals on the ground beneath his feet.
No monster could stand in his way. After leveling madly day and night, his level had even surpassed the assault team's. His powerful stats had forged the virtual body known as Yurnero into something even more violent. Moreover, what he used were not ordinary sword skills.
He calmly and efficiently cleared the road, holding the unique-sword black blade in a reverse grip while pinching a cigarette butt in his left hand. He silently exhaled smoke toward the fragments of the monster shattered ahead.
If he were alone as usual, he would definitely have continued deeper inside. But today, he was in a party for the first time in a long while. He looked at the path ahead and fell silent for a moment.
"Want to rest for a bit? We've been walking for half an hour."
He turned back to ask, but the other person's unreserved gaze at his eyes made him instinctively look away.
"I'm not tired. Nero has been in front the whole time, after all."
Sheeta tucked back the golden hair stirred loose by the wind and glanced at the petal that had fallen into her palm.
"This place really is beautiful."
"Ah... yeah," Satoru replied. "Among all the Labyrinth Towers, this place would rank in the top three for scenery. But since it's a dangerous area, probably not many people come here just to admire it."
"Eh? I think it should be number one."
"Maybe because it's all cherry blossoms. It's breathtaking at first, but after a while, you get tired of seeing the same thing."
"No wonder Nero isn't used to looking into my eyes anymore. We must have been apart for so long that you realized I've gotten even prettier, so now you're shy."
"...Who says that about herself?" Satoru said helplessly.
This time, however, he did not look away again. He met Sheeta's gaze directly.
Her pale-gold hair was just as it had been in his memory, but set against the faint cherry color behind her, it looked even brighter. Her eyes... had they always been blue? He really had not noticed before. As Agil had said, the Knights of the Blood uniform was wonderfully designed. The fitted skirt outfit carried both dignity and softness.
Seeing his gaze, Sheeta showed no shyness at all. Instead, her smile deepened as she stood among the falling cherry blossoms in the breeze and looked at him, her whole figure bright enough to dazzle.
Somehow... everything suddenly went quiet.
Only the sound of the wind scattering petals remained by his ears.
Satoru's expression, which had barely changed until now, shifted unconsciously. Slowly, he smiled.
"Aren't you the same as before?"
"Are you saying I'm not as pretty as before?!"
Sheeta suddenly put her hands on her hips and puffed out her cheeks.
"I just meant you still look as silly as you used to."
Satoru could not hold back, and his smile deepened.
"Hmm. Then Nero's 'I've seen through all worldly illusion and only want to die under nicotine' look hasn't changed at all either!"
The girl sounded determined not to lose.
"More often than not, circumstances change people, while people can't change much," Satoru said. "That means neither of us has run into anything big enough to change our nature."
You haven't changed.
That was the best thing of all.
"Are you really not going to rest?" Satoru asked again.
"Rather than that, Nero should rest. I should walk in front from here."
The one walking behind could take in the entire figure of the person ahead.
Was she still holding onto such a small thing they had only mentioned once in passing?
Satoru smiled wryly and stepped aside, letting Sheeta walk ahead. Watching her draw the straight sword that looked like flowing fire, he paused slightly as old memories brushed against his nerves.
"Why are you still using that one?"
The Flameforged straight sword. A very, very long time ago, he and she had both used the same type of weapon. He had traded his own more heavily enhanced Flameforged sword for Sheeta's. The one he received from Sheeta had ultimately shattered as the price of Heart-Eating Slash, wiping Makoto Kaizuka cleanly from this world.
But no matter how meaningful it was, it was still only a weapon from the thirtieth floors. How could she still be using it now?
"It's enhanced really high, even higher than Nero's Blade of the Ancient Scroll!"
As if to prove it, Sheeta drew her sword and charged ahead. A stream of sword skills even more dazzling than he remembered poured smoothly onto the monster. Although the damage was slightly lacking, her high-intensity combo quickly dealt with it.
"See? See?"
The girl waved her hand as if asking for praise.
Looking at the weapon that had originally belonged to him, Satoru felt a sudden, inexplicable stir of emotion.
"For Sword Princess to raid with a sword like that, you must be pretty confident in your own strength."
After all, you're someone who once beat me so thoroughly I didn't even have the energy to be mad.
Of course, even now, that was still true.
Satoru removed his hood, took a long breath, and lightly stepped forward to follow the girl ahead.