2. Still, We Live On - (4)
2. Still, We Live On - (4)
***
[Switching to manual control.]
I paid no particular attention to the hologram covering one side of my vision.
The Arianat immediately banked, moving swiftly toward the place where someone had launched the attack.
Aware of the faint unreality in the wind rushing past, I gradually cooled my mind and let it settle.
'A game.'
It was just a game.
A game that merely imitated reality, nothing more than virtual reality.
That 'thing' that had just attacked me was nothing more than a character in a game.
I was no longer the person I had been in the world of 'Black Ark'—the one who had set out on adventures, feeling pain so intense my consciousness seemed about to snap at any moment.
Whoosh!
Swoosh!
Projectiles wreathed in dazzling blue light tore through the air with a tremendous sound, surging toward me one after another.
"..."
Watching them, I seized the reins with practiced ease and pulled the Arianat into a turn.
Just as if I were controlling my Arianat in the actual world of 'Black Ark,' I began to control it with practiced ease.
The Arianat rotated its body at an odd angle, following my hand as it flew.
Despite having done nothing for days, my body handled the reins and performed acrobatics as though the movements were etched into instinct.
The mount flew at strange angles, as if embroidering the empty air, evading the projectiles that kept coming.
Moment by moment, the fierce sound of wind struck my ears as if rushing past me,
and at the same time, my silver hair fluttered brilliantly, constantly disrupting my vision.
Whoosh!
The wind from a projectile that missed me by a hair's breadth.
Even that felt unreal.
Compared to what I had actually felt, it was like a gentle breeze—nothing about it felt real.
Without so much as blinking at any of it, I guided the Arianat onward, and soon spotted a figure glowing red.
Swish.
As I did, I absently stroked my cheek.
The wound that had grazed my cheek at the start—had it already healed? Blood no longer flowed from it.
There had been no pain, so I hadn't paid the graze much attention. But I had felt a faint sensation at the spot, suggesting the game had some kind of internal safety mechanism to prevent excessive pain.
Even the fact that the wound had vanished within a few minutes... truly, not a single thing about this was realistic.
Right.
It was definitely a game.
Even if I reached out without mercy, I wouldn't actually be killing a real person.
Now, belatedly, the memory of that day in the world of 'Black Ark'—the first time I killed a person, when my hands had trembled—came to mind, and a hollow laugh escaped me.
"...The fuck, what are you, some kind of ranker? You dodged all of that!?"
A man muttering to himself, not even thinking of putting distance between us.
He looked well-equipped, so he was probably a high-level user with good gear.
[Outlaw — 'AhFuckJustDieThen']
As I looked at the man, a hologram reading "Outlaw" appeared above his figure.
Ding!
The warning sound still rang out at intervals, alerting me to danger.
Slowly, I dismounted from the Arianat and set foot on the ground.
Step.
As I sorted through my thoughts, I figured he was probably exactly that kind of person.
My memories were faint, but in an online game—yes, there were bound to be users who enjoyed PK.
So I didn't find the man's ambush from a moment ago particularly strange.
I wasn't new to games; I could get the gist of the system at a glance.
The word "Outlaw" probably referred to users who enjoyed PK—Player Killing.
He had apparently been going around killing people viciously, which was probably why the game had marked him with that red outline.
Whoosh!
The Crescent-Moon Weight ran along my arm, making the air thrum once.
Whoosh.
At the same time, I twisted my head once more and dodged the incoming projectile.
Since I hadn't taken my eyes off the man once after dismounting, predicting the direction of that massive crossbow was no trouble at all.
"You crazy... bastard."
The man sounded appalled, and he kept muttering the same sort of thing as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.
Judging by the ornately decorated crossbow he carried, my opponent was a ranged class.
Yet even now, he made no attempt to create distance.
The way he didn't even try to back away despite me getting this close.
He seemed like someone with virtually no real combat experience...
Someone who simply trusted his in-game stats and tried to crush his opponent with them.
Tap, tap.
I tapped the ground with my feet, slowly getting a feel for my body.
Since I had only just logged into the game, I still didn't even know what my class was or what my stats looked like.
Today was definitely the first time I had properly moved this character.
But I felt no particular fear.
Once again.
Whoosh!
A projectile wreathed in blue light.
I could tell just by looking: it wasn't an arrow.
Something like a mass of blue light.
It almost looked as if it had no physical form.
I gripped the Crescent-Moon Weight, tensed my hand, and slowly positioned it in the projectile's path.
I could have dodged if I wanted to, but I was curious how closely this game resembled the 'Black Ark' I knew.
Right now, that was what I wanted to find out.
Clang!!
The Crescent-Moon Weight collided with the mass of blue light, and another burst of light exploded outward.
Feeling a small recoil, I simultaneously stepped back from that spot.
Since I had braced my whole body beforehand, it didn't feel particularly awkward.
Every single sensation—the recoil at the moment of impact, the strain in that instant—felt vivid.
“What the hell? You're a cheating bitch.”
At the man's dazed-sounding voice from right in front of me, I tilted my head without realizing it.
Given the red outline, he was clearly a PK user, so I found it strange that he didn't understand the system mechanic I'd just tested.
One of the high-difficulty techniques in Black Ark's system: Parrying.
It was one of the techniques I had been forced to master in order to survive.
If you blocked an opponent's attack or projectile with your weapon, you could block it 100 percent regardless of the attack's strength.
However, if the timing of the block was off, or you merely put your weapon in the path of the attack, then even if Parrying activated, it would become an “Incomplete Parry.”
Then it would be worse than simply dodging.
Why bother blocking an attack you could dodge? Even a successful parry against a ranged attack offered little benefit.
It was a technique I had tried as a test, but I didn't feel at all like it would fail.
In the first place, in the world of Black Ark, there had existed a trash group commonly called 'jackals.'
The worst of the worst—people who hunted other people for personal gain rather than hunting monsters.
They were so numerous that no matter which city you went to, wanted posters for their capture were plastered everywhere.
But after I mastered this parry, I stopped fearing those jackals.
Those beings who lived as 'jackals.'
At some point they had grown afraid of facing monsters, their own growth stagnating until they were little more than washouts.
I had learned to parry in order to survive against those jackals.
If I couldn't successfully parry the attack of an outlaw who didn't even have the basics down, that would be even more ridiculous.
I could see my opponent's attacks clearly—where they would go, and exactly when they would arrive.
There was also the rule that stamina consumption varied with differences in level or equipment. Did that apply in this virtual reality too?
At the moment, I'd only moved back a single step.
That meant my opponent's level was similar to mine, so once I felt a little more accustomed to my body's senses, I leaped toward the man without a moment's hesitation.
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
Clang!
He fired masses of blue light in rapid succession, as if using a combo skill.
Staring straight at them, I continued to successfully parry in midair, and this time no recoil pushed my body backward.
When I stood still, the recoil pushed me back, but if I parried successfully, I could keep moving forward as though there were no recoil at all.
A system that told you: if you don't want to just stand there blocking your opponent's attacks, then leap forward on your own feet.
Even these minor details felt very similar to the Black Ark I knew.
"Fuck... fuck!!"
The man, who had been cursing constantly, only tried to create distance when there were barely two meters left between us—
but I had already swung my arm.
The weight traced a crescent arc as it shot forward swiftly.
The curve of the Crescent-Moon Weight was vividly clear.
However, I didn't do anything like drawing out red energy from my body to increase its destructive power.
Forget understanding the game as a whole—I didn't even know anything about myself yet.
So in a sense, it was nothing more than a simple attack, like a basic attack.
'I probably won't take him down in one hit.'
At the same moment I had that thought.
Thwack!
With a gruesome sound, the man's face was crushed.
But perhaps because this was still a game, it wasn't as gruesome as reality.
It looked as if a blurry fog had settled over it, like mosaic censorship.
Even so, it was unmistakably a clean hit that anyone could see.
I felt a subtle sensation, like the familiar feel in my hand when crushing something.
[You have slain Outlaw 'AhFuckJustDieThen'.]
"...Huh?"
No matter how accurately I had hit his head, could he really be killed this easily?
Whir!
I retrieved the Crescent-Moon Weight as if by habit.
Was there some system where getting hit in the head meant death?
It was a game with stats and all that, so I wondered if it had that kind of realism.