Spirit Ground

Planning Team, Operator 14.

An operator who'd posted some genuinely impressive numbers on the back of fair balance patches and a player-first philosophy. Being a little too player-friendly had bitten her more than once — changes walked back almost as soon as they went live — but she was still the operator who cared about her users the most, the one who actually kept the conversation going. Which was exactly why she'd been assigned as Jeong Jojun's guide this time around. The one they called Angel.

Zzzt.

After handing Jeong Jojun the skill called Spirit Ground and eating the full backlash of Causality for it, Angel had been forcibly yanked back to the heavens.

"Hey! You insane bitch, Fourteen!"

The instant she materialized, a torrent of abuse slammed into her from point-blank range as a figure took shape. Same general look as Angel, but the eyes were a little more twisted — the face of someone in a spectacularly foul mood.

"What?!"

Angel snapped back at Operator 1101, who was cussing her out from right in front of her face.

"Don't play dumb! This crazy bitch finally did it! She actually went and did itttt!!!!"

With a flourish, 1101 frantically waved a hand through the air, yanked a window open, and shoved it in her face.

"You lunatic! You embezzled Causality!!! We barely have any as it is, and you just siphon it off to hand out skills however you damn well please — what the hell are we supposed to do?!"

"Hey. You piece of shit."

Angel, who'd been listening in silence, growled the words out. Operator 1101 flinched, his whole body trembling before he could stop it.

"You Management Team assholes embezzled Causality too, you pieces of shit!!!"

Unable to take it anymore, Angel shrieked and lunged straight at him.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Okay, that part I'm sorry about!"

The last time Angel had stormed into the Management Team and beaten them like dogs was still fresh enough that 1101 ducked his head on pure instinct and started apologizing. That seemed to satisfy her. She let out a long breath, as if she'd actually cooled off, and stopped the hand that had been about to crack across his cheek.

"But why the hell would you give a skill that triggers Causality backlash to that monster of a guy?!"

Angel's brow twitched. Operator 1101's body jerked in perfect, miserable sync.

"Hey, 1101. We rebalanced the Hell Mode demons, sure — but if a Count-Class is popping out starting from the Otherworld..."

She pressed on, her tone hard with the kind of certainty that didn't leave room for argument.

"You bastards deliberately planted the Flame Demon in the Otherworld so you could suck up Causality, didn't you?"

"Ah... n-no... look, about that."

1101's voice shrank to a whimper, his whole body shaking like a man who'd just been caught with his hand in the till.

"Okay, we did, but... I mean, a Count-Class in the second scenario doesn't make any sense, sure — we put the Flame Demon in as a courtesy, since that guy has a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠special constitution..."

"You son of a bitch! Its flame affinity is higher than his — how the hell is he supposed to kill it?!"

Angel shrieked.

"That's not the point, you're not supposed to kill it! The goal is just to escape, why would you even try to kill it?! That guy knows every pattern inside and out — he can clear it even if he takes a few hits!"

1101 stammered out a rebuttal, but Angel was a wrecking ball. She just shrieked right over him.

"And why the hell shouldn't he kill it?"

"Huh?"

"You put a demon in there to be killed, not to be run away from, you dumbass!"

"Okay, Fourteen, just calm down for a second."

1101 raised both hands and spoke as calmly as he could manage. He looked exactly like an owner trying to hold back a dog with rabies.

"If he kills it, great for us — we get Causality too. The problem is, if you subtract the Causality cost of the skill you gave that guy and factor in all the backlash you just took, there's nothing left over from this scenario."

"So."

"Huh?"

"Sooo what?!!!"

Angel howled.

"Has the Player earned us a ton of Causality so far, or hasn't he?"

"A... a lot, yeah?"

"Then shut the fuck up and sit there!"

"Ah... no, but if you just dump the Spirit Swordsman's awakening skill on him right now..."

Seeing Angel's eyes blaze, 1101 cut himself off. He'd realized this was not someone you could reason with.

Fine. Fucking kill it, then.

At this point, they'd take a loss unless the Flame Demon went down anyway. Operator 1101 of the Management Team swallowed his tears ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠and gave up.

In the strange, taut silence, I wrung my brain for everything it was worth. That goddamn Flame Demon's flame affinity was higher than mine. They genuinely had not designed this thing to be beaten. No wonder Angel had shown up out of nowhere to hand me a skill...

Wait. Come to think of it, Angel had given me a skill, hadn't she?

I quietly recited the status window in my head and pulled up the skill screen. I snuck a glance at the panel hovering in the lower left and read through what I'd just been given: Spirit Ground.

Huh?

What the hell is this.

I widened my eyes and read it again, just to make sure I hadn't hallucinated it. The text in the skill description hadn't changed. Were they seriously allowed to just hand something like this out?

I was still staring blankly into empty air when the Flame Demon's voice cracked the silence.

"What exactly are you staring at, boy?"

I snapped back to myself. The Flame Demon was frowning at me from across the way.

"Ah... sorry, Flame Demon. I think I might've cheated a little."

"More of that nonsense."

It clicked its tongue and stretched out a hand.

"I have grown weary of you. Die."

The eight rings at the Flame Demon's back spun with a high, keening whine. Blades of fire bloomed from inside them and came screaming toward me. I didn't dodge. I just looked them in the eye and quietly spoke the name.

"Spirit Ground."

And then — they stopped.

All eight blades slowed in front of me, hung there for a breath, and vanished.

It actually worked?

The text I'd just read on the status window for Spirit Ground had said this:

I'd slammed the flame affinity of those incoming swords all the way into the floor. They lost speed, then lost cohesion, then ceased to exist entirely. Which meant if you kept dropping an affinity past the bottom — if you just kept going — the attribute itself disappeared.

In other words, this thing was insane.

Every attribute inside three meters sat in the palm of my hand. The skill was every bit as unhinged as the difficulty of this deranged second scenario.

"You... you did not do this from the start. You were mocking me?!!"

The Flame Demon's face twisted, collapsing into something out of a nightmare. The crown on its head burst apart, and eight eyes of raw crimson flame bloomed above the rings.

Okay, I did not know that pattern. They must have added it when this got converted to Hell Mode. Or maybe it wasn't a pattern at all — maybe it was the second phase that Marquis-class demons and up all had.

Without this skill, I never would have killed the thing standing in front of me. But that didn't matter anymore. For the next sixty seconds, as far as the natural elements were concerned, I was invincible.

Spirit ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Step.

I eased my foot forward and wrapped myself in a wind spirit, then cranked the affinity all the way to the ceiling.

BOOM.

A monstrous rebound kicked off the ground and launched me. My vision stretched, smeared, and by the time it snapped back I was standing right in front of the Flame Demon's nose.

I'd been so arrogant about attributes just a few days ago. I felt like an idiot. This was the actual limit — the hard cap the system itself had posted.

"Sorry, Flame-bro. I cheated a little."

"You—!!"

The Flame Demon flailed a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠hand at me in a desperate spray of fire, but what washed over me was a limp, guttering heat with no teeth left in it. The target I'd designated was the Flame Demon itself. This broken skill's targeting included living things.

Even so, Count-Class was Count-Class — I hadn't quite been able to drop its affinity all the way to zero. But flame that weak didn't make it a Flame Demon anymore. I flicked the languid fire aside with a casual sweep of my sword and drove the blade into its gut.

"You wretched—!"

It tried to tear itself free. Its body locked up instead. The sword I'd buried in it was packed with ice — a killing cold — and the Flame Demon's fire affinity had been dragged so absurdly low against that ice that it had no means left of resisting the frost. Not one.

"Y-you insignificant—!"

A crack ran through it. The cold spread from its abdomen in a slow, inevitable crawl, reached its face in a heartbeat, and its lips seized mid-word. The frost didn't stop at the inside. It climbed the surface of its skin, laying down a skin of rime.

"Goodbye."

I murmured it quietly, looking at the Flame Demon that had come at me more times than I could count. My old friend. I drew the sword out as lightly as if I were plucking a thorn, then gave it a slow, theatrical turn and slid it home into the sheath.

CRACK.

The Flame Demon's entire body shattered, vomiting a spray of dark-crimson demonic energy as it came apart.

"Hoo~ That's just the kind of guy I am."

I put on my coolest face, then shook my head. Yeah, I'd cheesed it with Spirit Ground. So what? A clear's a clear.

A hairline fracture ran through the crimson world, then split. Darkness came surging through the gaps in thick, rolling waves, and in a single breath the whole place drowned in it.

Flash.

And then the real world, fully restored. No nauseating crimson anywhere — just the campus, wrapped in a soft, familiar dark.

"Hahahaha! I cleared it! I actually cleared it!"

I'd solo-cleared the second scenario. I'd killed the Flame Demon. Which meant the reward coming my way was going to be obscene — no need to even say it. And my heroines, the ones who'd been stuck in this Otherworld with me? They were going to be even more gone on me than before. Obviously.

"Bianca! Alice! Rebeccaaa~!"

I whooped with joy and Spirit-Stepped my way up toward the fifth-floor hallway I'd been sucked out of — and then I stopped.

Huh?

Bianca was screaming, a tear of blood running from her left eye.

"Ah... the Otherworld closed... don't tell me the Savior... the Savior..."

She swayed and crumpled to the floor. Rebecca had bitten through her own lip hard enough to draw blood. And Alice — Alice's pupils had gone completely slack.

Wait. Was this because of me?

"Alice! Bianca! Rebecca!"

I shouted it so they'd know I was alive, threw both arms wide for good measure, and ran straight at them. Ah, yes. The emotional reunion. They all went wide-eyed as I came pounding down the hall. That's it — look at those faces. Overcome with joy.

"Yeah, it's me!"

I was right on top of them, about to pull all three into my arms, when—

CRACK.

Rebecca's fist slammed into my jaw like a freight train. The lights went out, and I hit the hallway floor face-first.

"....."

When I opened my eyes, my head was in Bianca's lap. Rebecca and Alice were standing over me.

"Everyone! I—!"

I was about to joyfully reassert the fact of my survival when Bianca beat me to it.

"Savior! What happened?"

"Huh?!"

What happened? What was there to explain?

"How did you get back from the Otherworld?"

"I just cleared it?"

Bianca didn't look like she believed a word of that. She rushed the next question out.

"Did you smash the windows and escape?"

"No, I just killed the Flame Demon."

"What?!"

Bianca sounded stunned. I say "sounded" because my entire field of vision was Bianca's chest, so I couldn't actually see her face.

"Y-you actually killed it?!"

"Yeah. I just killed it."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Kyaaah!"

Bianca let out the kind of scream a girl makes when she's so happy she might faint, and those magnificent breasts bounced right along with it. Mm. A view that made clearing the Otherworld feel worth it. I was basking in the scenery, thoroughly pleased with myself, when a small hand closed around my right one.

I glanced over. Alice was staring at me with her face locked tight.

"Jojun?"

"Y-yeah?!"

Something in my chest twinged. I answered a little too fast.

"I'm so glad... I'm really, really glad..."

The stiffness in Alice's face crumbled. A clear tear slipped from the corner of her eye, then another.

"I mean it..."

I brushed the tears from her cheek with my left hand.

"It's okay, Alice. I'm alive. That's what matters."

I gave her my gentlest smile. That only made it worse. She clutched my hand like she might never let go and started crying in earnest, the kind of crying that comes from somewhere deep.

Ah. I really shouldn't do anything dangerous from now on.

I couldn't make a girl this pretty cry a second time.