Chapter 60 - The God-Wedge Sword-King that Enshrines the Gods, The Scales of the Chant that Celebrate the World, Part Five
A virtual body knows no fatigue, but a status ailment called "breathlessness" does exist.
Separate from that, there's a phenomenon unique to virtual reality called 'Phantom Fatigue.' When mental exhaustion accumulates to an extreme degree, it creates a discrepancy with the tireless avatar, causing the user to perceive physical exhaustion as an illusion.
Even without the breathlessness debuff, one's breathing becomes ragged. This respiratory failure—a mere virtual sensation—causes the brain to error, and despite no abnormalities in the status, the avatar's movements grow sluggish.
Even for veterans of the virtual world, it can happen after a few hours. For beginners, it can manifest in a very short time if they engage in continuous, strenuous combat under high tension. It's what's commonly known as "virtual fatigue," a well-known fact of life in VR.
"—Hgh…! Ugh…!"
Feeling that familiar sensation pulling at her body, Sora gritted her teeth and kept moving.
Almost an hour had passed since the battle began.
They had been using a high-rotation switch tactic, premised on the continuous use of [Scareless, Chant of the Scales], which significantly boosted both their stats.
They took intermittent breaks, all while giving their opponent no time to breathe in a relentless, unending assault.
This strategy proved highly effective even against the monstrous [Angalta, God-Wedge Sword-King]. Its eight HP bars had been whittled down countless times, now reduced by half.
But their limit was already in sight.
They had both used up their potions in a flash, and for a while now, Sora's Qualia Veil was their only means of healing. And with every use of that sole method, her MP, indispensable for operating her [Cradle of Sword-Craft], drew closer to depletion.
Furthermore, over the past hour, they had discovered two of [Angalta]'s properties—Sword of Armor Destruction and Armor of Weapon Destruction. These had left Sora's equipment relatively intact but had shredded Haru's.
His trademark arsenal of various weapons had all suffered complete durability loss and fallen silent. In a reckless attempt to evade by kicking away the greatsword, even his [Sand Eel Leather Boots] had been destroyed.
Sora's magic sword resources were nearly gone. All Haru had left was his indestructible Anima, the [White-Flawed Straight Sword].
…This might be it.
Her mind, forced to maintain extreme focus for so long while navigating a relentless, high-wire act, whispered the thought.
It wasn't a complaint, just a simple fact. She could feel the moment of collapse drawing near, so close now that looking away wouldn't make it disappear.
I've already done enough.
That wasn't an excuse; she truly believed it.
We fought an enemy that was clearly out of our league. We can be proud of that.
Haru would surely say the same thing after it was over.
He'll say we both fought well. And that we'll try again someday.
Sora's partner would surely flash his usual innocent, yet somehow carefree, smile at her.
And she, in turn, would smile back with him—but there was no way she wouldn't feel frustrated.
"I… I don't want to lose…!"
Her voice was hoarse, but the words that spilled out were clear—her true feelings.
That's why they both continued to challenge the insurmountable wall.
Even with their claws and fangs broken, their minds and legs failing.
Even as they acknowledged their imminent defeat, they couldn't tear their eyes away from the distant, glimmering prospect of victory.
"—Sora…!"
His frantic voice was a warning to her, as her legs had gotten tangled and her evasion was slow.
Of course, I know. That's why she had already tilted [Scareless], letting her now-powerless body fall gracefully backward. And just like that—in the next moment, she was in Haru's arms, soaring through the air.
Carried by Haru, who had effortlessly leaped over [Angalta]'s head, she gave his arm a single tap. She was confident he would understand without words—and sure enough, Haru responded without a moment's delay.
Another seamless tilt of [Scareless, Chant of the Scales]. Twisting her body, now enhanced with AGI and DEX, she stood on Haru's arm as he held her.
They both tensed at the same time. The instant she was launched from his cupped hand like a catapult, her attack was already prepared.
"Zwei…!"
A surprise attack from above. The magic swords she fired with her remaining resources were mainly a feint. [Angalta] reacted as expected to the counterattack that came mere seconds after its own evasion, raising its greatsword to swat down the two projectiles. But it didn't stop there—with its remaining momentum, it swung the greatsword at Sora as if an afterthought.
The after-slash alone was lethal. If it so much as grazed her, the vicious blade would slice her in two, but it was a different story if she anticipated it.
It would strike down the two magic swords she sent ahead, and then its trajectory would continue toward her—the line it drew perfectly matched the one Sora had predicted.
"Hmph…!"
She moved the sand sword in her hand, forcibly shifting her body sideways in midair. It was an acrobatic dodge that made her feel like she was sliding along the flat of the greatsword's blade at touching distance—one she couldn't really lecture Haru about.
Then, at the end of the blade, she kicked off the spine—and slammed a blow, packed with the full force of her fall's acceleration and rotational power, into the giant knight's head, its critical point.
Honestly, you surprise yourself right after you do it.
When she'd ribbed Haru for his own acrobatic feats, she recalled him scratching his cheek and boasting. The memory made perfect sense now.
I see. This really is something that would surprise you—
Another tilt of [Scareless, Chant of the Scales]. Her body, sent flying by the recoil from the critical hit, was snatched from the air by Haru, who shot through the sky with his re-ignited stats.
A brief exchange of glances. He was smiling at her with a look of slight exasperation. Now what kind of face was I making? Overcome with a sense of embarrassment that didn't forget to make an appearance even in a situation like this, Sora quickly turned her face away.
◇◆◇◆◇
I caught Sora after she pulled off a mind-boggling super play and ducked under the greatsword swung in retaliation for the painful blow, making a mad dash out of [Angalta]'s range.
It was a reset we'd performed countless times over the course of this nearly hour-long battle to the death. If we kept a medium distance, we'd be hounded by its relentless pursuit, but if we put more than the hall's radius between us, [Angalta] would invariably reset its greatsword stance and observe us.
Being able to trigger a clear break point on our own terms was a merciful game mechanic, to say the least, but the interval it allowed wasn't long.
"…You okay, Sora?"
Perhaps she'd grown completely used to being carried, because she settled quietly in my arms. I set my partner down and checked on her.
She stumbled slightly as she landed; she must have been suffering from the same terrible Phantom Fatigue as I was. The face she showed me when she looked back was anything but healthy.
"…I can still go."
Her strained smile was proof that she was pushing herself. I had been sure she would say that before even asking, so I swallowed my own complex emotions and simply nodded at her words.
The endless grind for experience points.
The hunt for rare drops with less than a one-percent chance.
The relentless attempts to defeat an unbeatable foe.
The hell known as 'grinding,' undertaken for any number of reasons—
In a game that's supposed to be entertainment, the kind of people who willingly step into that sort of penance are called gamers.
Among them, anyone who has walked those endless hells alongside others would understand.
'Can you still go?' (Don't you dare stop now.)
'I can still go.' (I want to stop.)
It's a strange, empty time where contradictory feelings melt together, dragged along by the excuse of 'just a little more,' as if you can never escape the bottomless swamp.
It's a form of madness where you desperately hope someone, anyone, will be the one to say, "Alright, that's it, let's disband, good work everyone," but you absolutely refuse to be the one to say it yourself, continuing to chip away at your sanity under a bizarre emotion that's part sense of duty, part obsession.
And the reason you keep soaking in that swamp is because you're captivated by the glimmer of something you might be able to grasp at the very end, at the far reaches of that hell.
The color of her face when I glanced at her was certainly bad. But her eyes had not yet lost their light.
"…Haha."
An involuntary laugh escaped me, and Sora turned around. "What is it?" her large eyes looked up at me, a familiar sight… but the expression on her exhausted face was a world apart from the girl she'd been just a few hours ago.
Even though this was hardly the time, I couldn't help but think, "I've finally done it."
In other words… I've awakened the gamer spirit, the path of a true warrior, in an innocent young girl (presumably).
I shook my head at Sora's gaze as if to say it was nothing, and re-gripped my beloved sword, the only one I had left. The break time wasn't nearly enough, but it was about time for [Angalta] to lose its patience.
I could already see the end. This next exchange, or the one after at best, would be when we had to pay the piper. Sora could probably feel the end drawing near, just as I did.
But still…
"Sora."
I met Sora's gaze, who had been watching me after I fell silent.
It was an extension of the telepathic unison we'd maintained for so long now. A pleasant feeling, as if our hearts were connected by that alone, made us both break into a smile.
"…Yes."
It wasn't a reply to my call, but an answer to the words that were meant to follow.
We both nodded to each other, affirming that our desperate struggle over the past hour had not been in vain.
We had grasped something that would lead us to the still-unseen heights of this world. We both acknowledged that certain feeling—and decided to swallow this defeat.
"Guess we'll have to book a rematch."
"No sneaking off without me. We do it together next time, okay?"
Our words were light, and our faces held relaxed smiles.
There was no denying the unbearable frustration of admitting defeat. But we could hold our heads high, knowing we had struggled enough to accept that it couldn't be helped.
"Well then…"
Deciding we had stood still long enough, [Angalta] began to move again. The countdown had begun, from its regal stride to the moment it would shift into its combat gear—a motion now burned into my memory.
"I'd like to go out with a bang, but…"
Feeling the ground tremble at my side, I glanced at Sora's status bar in the corner of my vision and gave a wry smile. Seeing my reaction, she offered a wry smile of her own.
"Ehe… Sorry, this is all I've got."
The [Cradle of Sword-Craft] on her right hand lit up, creating just two sand swords.
Even with its good fuel efficiency, after an hour of continuous use of [Scareless, Chant of the Scales] and firing off a rain of magic swords, it was no surprise. She had used up all her carried mana potions, and her MP was now depleted.
"Well, can't be helped. How about we end it with a glorious charge together?"
"Yes… Hehe, shall we go for broke?"
She must have anticipated my kamikaze attack. She took the floating sand swords in both hands, perhaps planning to fire them at the same time, and gave a small laugh.
"I'll leave the timing to you."
"You got it, it's on me."
It would be a lie to say I felt no fear as the giant loomed closer. If that was true for me, Sora must be scared and feeling the pressure too.
And yet, here she was, standing next to me with a smile. The girl I was supposed to be protecting, the girl who had lamented her powerlessness, wanting to fight herself—she was nowhere to be seen.
I struggled to suppress the tremor in my voice, overcome with a rush of emotion.
"—Alright, let's go!"
"—Yes!"
Just before the approaching [Angalta] could take its final step forward. Alongside my partner who answered my call, I committed everything to one final charge—our last attack.