kscans

Chapter 132 - Beyond the Deep Green, a Glimpse of Ash

"—So, you see, I never intended to lose in the first place."

"—Oh? But if we're just talking about that final exchange, that was a clear psychological play that I initiated, you know?"

"Guh... When you hype things up like that, a ranker can't just back down in front of a crowd...!"

"Liar. It wasn't about the dignity of a ranker; you responded to my taunt because you wanted to."

"Even so! You don't expect a fifth-tier [Anima] to be broken by a prologue-stage Terror Armament, do you!?"

"I challenged you because I was confident I could crush it if I could just get you into a direct clash!!"

"You damn... [Acrobat]...!!"

"Could you please stop using my ranker title like an insult!?"

Thirty seconds after our fist bump, we had rapidly dropped all pretenses and were now engaged in the kind of lighthearted banter you'd expect from old friends.

When two guys of the same generation both have decent social skills, this is probably how it goes—though Irori doesn't know my age.

Above all, we were comrades passionate about the same game, Arcadia. Sharing a hobby is a massive buff to forming a connection. It's not hard for players to get along.

"Still... even I was surprised at how easily it broke—uh, it will get fixed, right?"

I glanced sideways at the single katana hanging from the waist of Irori, who was walking beside me. In response to my question, he snorted, "What are you worried about?" He drew the blade, and the frosty edge that emerged from the deep blue scabbard was missing from the halfway point.

"It's like a cooldown. It'll take some time, but you don't need to worry about it."

"That's a relief."

[Anima] don't have a durability stat. This means they are generally immune to damage or destruction, but they aren't absolutely indestructible.

For example, if it takes an extraordinary amount of damage in an instant. Or if it's hit by an attack with a super-powerful weapon-breaking effect.

Only when subjected to an extreme load that wouldn't normally occur does the Anima enter an auto-repair mode in the form of temporary damage. Since it's a rare occurrence, the repair time is ridiculously long. When I asked, Irori said his [Frostblade Shirosou] would take about two days to fully repair.

...I feel a little bad, but since he said so himself, I'll take him at his word that no apology is needed.

"—So? Spill it. The unique effect of that Terror Armament, it's some kind of super-powerful anti-weapon property, right?"

"Like I'd tell you. What kind of idiot reveals their trump card to someone they're planning on having a rematch with?"

Irori's guess was pretty close to the mark, but I had no obligation to confirm it for him.

"Anyway, I was sure that if I just hit it with Angalta, it would break... and I figured if I could shatter the Anima itself, that cheap barrier of yours would disappear too."

And my guess was correct.

The strike from my [Angalta, Prologue: Wedge Fragment Singing of Eternity] brilliantly shattered the [Frostblade Shirosou]. With the Anima broken, its unique effect, Bushin, vanished. The sheer power required to break a fifth-tier—a high-level Anima that had evolved four times—was enough to cut the [Sword Protector] in two.

In other words...

"The moment I made you swing, it was my win."

"I told you, there was no way I could back down from that!?"

"And I was counting on that when I made my move, wasn't I?"

"Damn it... you [Acrobat]...!!"

"Hey, don't you dare try to make that my official insult."

This kind of witty banter with Irori wasn't so bad.

Once we started talking casually, it seemed that even this impossibly handsome guy was just another gamer dude.

◇◆◇◆◇

"—This is it."

"Whoa..."

After a few minutes of pointless chatter, we emerged from the dense bamboo grove to find a magnificent gate with a strong traditional Japanese aesthetic.

Beyond the wall, which seemed to enclose a considerable area, the first thing that came to mind was the word 'dojo.'

"Some kind of swordsmanship dojo...?"

"............Yeah, that was the original plan."

Huh? That's an intriguing thing to say.

"Now then—Haru, there's one thing I need to tell you."

His voice, which had been lighthearted just moments ago, took on a serious tone.

I turned my attention to him without joking, and Irori was looking at me with a sharp gaze.

"I know you can adjust your attitude depending on who you're talking to, so I'm sure it'll be fine, but... please, don't be disrespectful."

"...Is she a strict person?"

His demeanor screamed I'm not kidding, and I asked, slightly intimidated. Irori shook his head. "That's not it."

"She's the kindest, gentlest, and purest person there is. I don't want to see her have a bad experience."

"............I see."

My mental state isn't so flippant as to joke about that. I nodded sincerely to show I understood, and he nodded back before taking a step forward.

No need to knock or ring a bell, apparently. Irori placed both hands on the gate and pushed with a grunt... and as it opened, it revealed a stone-paved ground reminiscent of a shrine's境内.

Even through the gate, I could faintly hear the light, rhythmic sound of swish... swish... I looked for its source—

"—............"

My gaze fell upon a lone woman holding a bamboo broom, and I was rendered speechless.

Her gray hair, cut to shoulder length, swayed gently in the breeze. She was small, even more slender than Sora, and wore a white kimono with indigo hakama. Her posture with the broom and the somewhat solemn atmosphere momentarily made me think of a shrine maiden—but no. Even without a weapon in hand, her dignified stance was unmistakably that of a 'swordsman.'

She was just sweeping fallen leaves with a bamboo broom. That was all. She wasn't doing anything special, yet—her figure possessed something that powerfully gripped my eyes, my heart, and refused to let go.

—She's beautiful.

It was probably the first time in my eighteen years of life that I had thought that.

I couldn't even bring myself to laugh at the honest thought that had surfaced in my mind without a hint of shame.

She must have noticed the sound of the gate opening. She quietly raised her head, and our eyes met.

Her eyes were a translucent gray, matching her hair. Pinned by a gaze that was the very embodiment of grace, I couldn't move a single finger—

"—...It has been a long time since we've had guests."

As she smiled softly, I found myself captivated, as if I'd been utterly bewitched.

"—Haru."

"Ah...! R-Right."

A nudge to my side from Irori finally brought me back to my senses.

I tightened the muscles in my face, which had been slack with awe. Ignoring me, Irori took a step forward and bowed respectfully.

"It has been a while, Sensei. I am glad to see you are well."

"Please, drop the 'Sensei,' Irori-kun. It is good to see you are well, too."

The woman, to whom the normally casual [Sword Protector] showed such deference, smiled happily and then—her gray eyes turned to me.

She walked over to me, still frozen like a fool. Every single one of her subtle movements was picturesque. She straightened her posture even further, and,

"—It is a pleasure to meet you. My name is Ui."

"............A-A pleasure. My name is Haru."

As she greeted me with a polite bow, it was a miracle I managed to return the courtesy at all.

The second-ranked member of the Eastern Faction—the [Sword Saint].

My first meeting with the woman who would later become a special person in my life.

Looking back, it was from this encounter that the name [Acrobat], dwelling within my avatar, began its climb up a boundless staircase.