kscans

Chapter 880 - The Regular Recreation

The general scale of the nightly raid is determined by the number of players clustered together, while the size of the onrushing horde is decided by the amount of [Stardust Relics (Lapis)] stored up—special spoils of war obtained by defeating [Stardust Beasts (Lim)].

From the two events we've held so far, it's become all but certain that going full-throttle from the very start will lead to a gradual descent into a hellscape.

Even without going that far, just by properly dealing with all the phantoms that can spawn during a raid, things will eventually escalate into a festival on par with our final raid during the first event. In other words, if you want a stable event progression, it's best to take it a little easy on the first day.

"Hmm... I see. Are you right-handed or left-handed?"

"Right-handed, sir."

"Thought so. You should try not to be conscious of that, at least while holding a weapon with both hands. Your stance is pretty obvious, making your attacks incredibly easy to read."

"I knew it... Isn't dual-wielding hard in the first place?"

"It is. I'm not good at it, either. That's why when I hold a weapon with both hands, I consciously do it sloppily."

"Consciously... sloppily...?"

"Yep. Being ambidextrous would be ideal, but that's a tough ask, right? But a dual-wielder who relies on just one hand is basically like a single-sword wielder carrying luggage—they're super weak. In that case, you're better off just going all out with brute force, as if neither of your hands is your dominant one."

"I... see..."

"I think it'll still be difficult, so I'd recommend setting a rule for yourself, like alternating your swings between left and right, to keep yourself from getting confused."

"Huh, but wouldn't that just make your attacks completely predictable?"

"It's perfectly fine if they can read a conscious 'form.' If they read you, you use that knowledge to set up the next mind game. That's what PvP is all about."

"Whoa..."

"First, create your own form. Everything starts from there."

In the central area of our base, which has practically become a small town. Near the original tofu-block houses, which once served as the 'Men's Dorm' and 'Women's Dorm' and are now used as storage rooms.

And so, in the wide, open space that had been cleared, what was I up to?

"Yes... Yes! Thank you very much!"

"Yep. Looking forward to these four days with you."

It was a meet-and-greet with the nearly seventy new players who had joined us. It's the type of event where, if requested, I'm not averse to crossing fists in a bit of fun.

The guy just now... well, in fact, about half the players I've faced so far who are into combat have requested a spar. Each time, they ask for some simple advice, so I've been telling them what I can.

I'm almost certain that every single one of them is my senior in terms of time spent playing Arcadia... but under the title of Istia's Fourth Seat, that fact is meaningless.

It's not a pain, and it feels good to be thanked for doing what I can.

'Memorizing' the combat strength of each of them also serves as a benchmark for me to decide how to support them when I have to fly all over the place during the night raids. Alright, next.

"Your name?"

"It's Howen! I request a spar!"

"You got it."

A male player dressed as a standard light warrior stepped forward from the well-behaved line. He looked to be a man in his mid-thirties, but his voice was youthful, giving him a vibrant impression.

Right then, let's do this.

This time, the weapons I brought to the event were four, plus an alpha, excluding the special slots for my [Anima] and [Terror Armament]. The lineup was [Rabbit Dagger (Rabbit) - Parabellum], [Samidorizuki], [Demonic Crimson-Azure Spear: Whale-Rabbit (Laparis-Lafan)], and [Diaus-Altara], along with a few "cards."

The Key Tree armaments have brought about a revolution here, too. Being able to have them in card form lets me literally slip them past the strict carry-on limits; they're almost too capable.

In any case, since my arsenal is generally far too overpowered to use against regular players... and on top of that, the skills dwelling in my avatar, starting with [Volcanate], have all sorts of ridiculous performance enhancements...

I've been making it a rule to fight with as few weapons and skills as possible.

"'In the name of our goddess, Istia, I challenge you to a duel.'"

Howen drew a standard straight sword from his back.

I could tell at a glance, but he seemed to be a swordsman. And as I heard the incantation he recited to begin the duel with his blade pointed at me, it turned out we were from the same neck of the woods.

Now, let's see if he's a true Istian or not.

Duel accepted.

And the instant the crimson veil deployed.

"—Whoa! You surprised me...!"

"I was absolutely sure you'd react to that...!"

As I parried the blade that had closed several meters in an instant, knocking it up with the back of my right hand, I saw a handsome face that was twenty percent frustration, thirty percent surprise, and fifty percent excitement.

Are you serious? That was [Land Insulate].

At the very start of the battle, I hadn't missed it, nor had I mistaken it: the subtle effect that burst at his feet. It was the predecessor to my own [Talaria Record], the evolved form of [Fataless Jumper]—a skill that the community had long since deemed 'too niche to be worth getting.'

I see, I get it now... This guy is an Istian.

"Okay, bring it."

In that case, I'll shift my own thinking up a gear.

My gauntlets, [An-di Galta], are flexible, but to my opponents, they are a super-special unique piece of equipment, harder and heavier than steel. To be deflected so grandly by them is the same as taking an uppercut from an iron hammer.

Thus, Howen's right arm and straight sword were sent flying upward, numb—and yet, dwelling in that hand was a single, barely perceptible streak of a light effect.

"Tch... hah."

As he drew another smile from me, I sent him a silent word of praise and...

""—""

Our eyes met perfectly, and he gave a wry smile.

[Flip Stroke]—well, of course, I'm an active user of its evolved form, so I know all too well that its targeting is purely visual.

I tilted my head, and the straight sword rushed past my cheek.

In that case, my response is to...

"Nice pass."

"Hwah?!"

...simply catch it before it rushes by.

The tip rushed forward, the blade rushed forward, and the instant the grip came alongside my face, my left hand flashed out. As I grabbed the straight sword, Howen let out a bewildered cry, apparently stunned, and I jabbed him with my elbow.

And then... oh, it seems he doesn't have the stumble resistance from the [Precept of Trickery].

He tumbled over in his confusion, and that was game over—it was rather anticlimactic, but that's just what PvP in Arcadia is like. This is normal.

The one who seizes a single move wins easily. Super-intense sword fights are the stuff of dreams, limited to the absolute cream of the crop (or so say the regular players).

But still, that was surprising.

"You're not having a hard time with it?"

"I'm having a ton of trouble with it... but, well, hehe..."

[Flip Stroke] is a dedicated skill for all weapon proficiency trees, after all.

Howen, who had judged the match over the moment he fell on his butt, was now lying spread-eagled with a refreshed look on his face. When I asked him, he smiled happily at the question from me, the Acrobat.

"I'm a fan, you see. It's kind of part of my research, so it's not a pain at all. Yep."

A heartfelt thumbs-up.

As for that, I spent a few seconds wondering how best to reply.

"I'll be cheering for you."

I offered a noncommittal word, and he froze, trembling with emotion, before being dragged away across the ground by a player who seemed to be his friend.