"Fuck off."
Drifter stared coldly at the seven red players across from him. The horses had disappeared to somewhere, leaving only the spearmaster, Kirito, Asuna, Kizmel, a shell-shocked Griselda, and their enemies.
Grimlock was completely ignored. The man was sobbing and mumbling on the ground, not even bothering to get up after Kizmel knocked him. He was a non-existence.
Ah, he supposed there were also Akari and the Fuumaningum player that was already there. But he couldn't see either of the role-players. Good. They could ambush the murderers.
Drifter observed the criminal players. They were all in very similar attire. Dark clothes and black or dark-green robes, all in tatters and full of holes, though that was more of an aesthetic choice than anything. Still, their stats didn't look that great.
Another thing all the players had in common was that they were all using masks and hoods to obscure and cover their faces. That, and they all had blood-red cursors above their heads.
"Kikikiki... What do we have here? Are you friends with the little lamb? No. You are here for the wife, aren't ya? How wholesome! Kekeke!
After their initial surprise, the red players recovered their composure. The one in the middle, who Drifter had pierced with Serpentcoil Impale, cackled. The other murderers too laughed, as if the whole situation was very funny to them.
Drifter could glimpse nothing but madness from their eyes. They were insane like Morte. All of them.
"I'll only say it one more time. Fuck off, whoever you are. You are not killing Griselda today. Or ever. Crawl back to whatever hole you came from."
Drifter wished for nothing more than to arrest all those scums and throw them into the Black Iron Palace, leaving them to rot until the day they cleared SAO. And then hand them over to the authorities on the outside, to pay the full price for the atrocities they committed for those red cursors.
Unfortunately, he knew it was impossible to accomplish that tonight. They were outnumbered, and even if that wasn't the case, Drifter didn't want to put any of his friends in risk. It would be much better for everyone involved if the red players left.
Of course, that wasn't going to happen, otherwise it would be too easy. The murderers just laughed harder when they heard him.
"Hahaha! How scawy! I think I'm shitting my pants I'm so terrified."
The player with a skull mask and red eyes mocked Drifter. The spearmaster simply tightened the grip on his weapon. They just had to endure. The more they stalled, the closer Yuna and the others got.
"Oh? Now that I take a good look at our party crashers, don't they look familiar, boys? Broken Spear Drifter, Dark Elf Kizmel, Lightning Flash Asuna, and Black Swordsman Kirito. What an honor! Not!"
More laughter. Drifter wasn't sure the criminals even knew what they were chuckling at. They just wanted to. His eyes narrowed.
"You know our names, but we don't know who you are. Why don't you introduce yourself, red-eyes? And tell us why you are after Griselda while at that."
The leader of the red players playfully tapped his lips with the tip of his sword. An estoc, Drifter noticed. The thinnest blade in Aincrad. Just as deadly as a greatsword in the hands of a skilled user.
"Red-eyes, huh? I like that. From now on you can call me... Red-Eyed XaXa!"
If the red player was expecting to get any reaction out of the Reavers with his self-given epithet, he was sorely disappointed. Drifter caught the flash of annoyance in his red eyes, and pressed on with a mocking smirk.
"Very impressive. Do the others have names too, or are they just lackeys 1 through 6?"
Now XaXa's anger was clear, as he didn't immediately guffaw like he had been doing. The other red players also shifted, and for a moment Drifter was afraid he had pushed his luck too much. But then XaXa raised his estoc. Drifter's gaze followed the tip of the blade. If there was a sudden attack, that was where it would start.
"Very funny, frontliner. But if you must know, I'll tell you. We are Laughing Coffin!"
The name didn't ring any bells, but it wasn't hard to gather what this Laughing Coffin was. An organization of killers. Of murderers and red players.
That was when a splash of red on XaXa's wrist caught Drifter's attention, and the spearmaster realized that the red player hadn't been showing off the estoc, but the tattoo.
They were a few meters apart and the brand wasn't that big, but Drifter could still identify the stylized coffin with disproportionate eyes and a toothy grin. It had to be one of the creepiest designs Drifter had ever seen, more so because he understood what it meant.
"They all have it."
It was maybe a redundant affirmation, but Drifter followed Asuna's gaze and saw the Laughing Coffin tattoos on the wrist of all the red players. Now they were showing off, and the twisted smiles were back.
"That's right, girlie. What do ya think? I'm sure I can talk boss into accepting ya in our numbers if you kill Blackie over there. Boss was in need of a plaything, kekekeke! The NPC will also do nicely."
Red-Eyed XaXa licked his lips lecherously. His lustful gaze roamed over Asuna and Kizmel's bodies, and Kirito stepped in front of his girlfriend to block their vision. Asuna was trembling, Drifter didn't know if it was of fear, disgust, or rage.
Kizmel hadn't batted an eyelid at the insults. Either she didn't understand what XaXa meant - unlikely, no matter how big the cultural barrier was - or she simply didn't care.
Drifter caught Kizmel's gaze, and she looked up and to the left. Where a player's HUD was. The spearmaster had to suppress a smirk. Most people still considered Kizmel just an NPC Reaver's Requiem luckily recruited. It never crossed the red players' minds that she might be receiving messages while they talked. Their guild was close.
"Lost your tongue, stickman? You were so brave just a sec ago. Or could it be that ya want a piece of the NPC too? We can share, just kill that woman over there for us."
Okay, so XaXa wasn't stupid. He knew the chances of them getting to Griselda had fallen precipitously after their arrival. Of course, the red player didn't seriously believe any of the Reavers would even consider his proposal. But Drifter latched onto the change of topic.
"Why do you want to kill Griselda, XaXa? Why are you even here, actually?"
The criminal spat.
"Bah, and here I thought ya would be a fun guy to play with. Turns out you also only want to know the boring stuff. We wanna kill her 'cause it's fun! That the lost little lamb at your feet was willing to pay for it was only the icing on the cake."
"Is that what Laughing Coffin is then? Killers for hire?"
That must have been the wrong thing to ask. Or the right thing, depending on how you saw it. Either way, Red-Eyed XaXa stopped talking, and the glare he gave to Drifter was much the same as Morte's right before the spearmaster killed him.
"This is boring. Cut them to pieces, boys!"
It was so sudden that the Reavers took a second to react. But when the first two red players charged at him, Drifter let his instincts take over.
A Snake Bite lashed out at the first criminal, but the player tilted his body and dodged both stabs from the skill. He closed in on Drifter, and his dagger was almost assuredly poisoned.
The spearmaster forcefully changed the direction of his attack and smacked the red player on the side of the head with the shaft of his spear. While it did little damage, it was enough to disorient the opponent, giving Drifter enough of an opening to deal with the saber chopping down on his head.
"Hah!"
Shouting, Drifter stepped forward, shoulder charging the second red player. The saber cut into his shoulder, but Drifter ignored it, and knocked back the murderer. Retracting his spear, he stabbed without hesitation, and a Sting put a hole through the man's lower abdomen.
Drifter didn't stop there. Fighting humans, especially other players, was very different than facing monsters. But one fundamental principle still stood: once you have the advantage, press on. Never give your opponent a chance to breathe.
Spinning his spear, Drifter swept it violently from left to right, slashing the dagger-user, who thought he could catch Drifter unaware. Reversing his swing, he cut the saber-user right down to yellow.
Then Drifter suddenly bent his back, abandoning the perfect chance to continue his offensive. Red-Eyed XaXa's estoc still blinded him of one eye.
Drifter's spear almost took his head off his shoulder in return.
The decisiveness with which Drifter went for lethal blows apparently shocked even the red players. In an unspoken agreement, the spearmaster took a step back, as did XaXa and the two Laughing Coffin members. Their cold gaze on Drifter now held a hint of apprehension.
Drifter took the chance to see how his friends were faring. He had every bit of confidence that they could hold their own against the murderers, but it was still the first time Asuna, Kizmel, and Griselda were fighting other players in a real battle, no holds barred. Even for Kirito, that was only the second time.
To his relief, XaXa's decision to come after him with three players - probably wanting to take him out of the game right from the start - had majestically backfired.
With three killers tied up with Drifter, that left the other four to face Kirito, Asuna, Kizmel, and Griselda one-on-one. XaXa had made the wrong bet.
Laughing Coffin hunted other players to satisfy their twisted desires. Reaver's Requiem were the cream of the crop of frontliners.
In an ambush or overwhelmed by numbers, they would be in trouble. But face-to-face with a single opponent? They would teach the criminals what it meant to be a frontliner.
It had been maybe 30 seconds since the battle started? Less. Yet the red players facing Kirito, Asuna, and Kizmel were already in a sorry state. Their HP was down to yellow while the Reavers were still all in the green.
That was how fights between players went. Against monsters, you had to whittle them down slowly. Not players. The battles were short, vicious, and brutal.
Griselda was faring a little worse. She hadn't been prepared for this, after all. Not like the Reavers had since Morte. And Grimlock's betrayal must still be affecting her. He was her husband after all.
"What about it, Red-Eyed XaXa? Want to keep going?"
Drifter checked in on the others with just a glance, most of his attention still focused on XaXa and the other two. One of his eyes was closed, and Drifter knew that had this been outside of SAO, he would have permanently lost an eye. But here, all it did was lower his accuracy. It didn't even impair his vision.
XaXa was visibly disturbed. He had stopped laughing. The red player certainly hadn't expected such ferocity from the 'goodie-two-shoes frontliners'. His gaze slithered over to Griselda, who was undoubtedly the weakest link on the other side. But then he was forced to jump back as Drifter lunged at him with a Rage Spike, and slashed the air in front of him.
"Don't even think about it."
"Grrr... I'll admit it, Broken Spear Drifter. I didn't think you had it in you. It almost feels like you were actually trying to kill me with that first exchange. Insane bastard. Your eye for my head, hum?"
"A worthwhile trade. My eye will heal in half an hour. You aren't coming back if I take off your head."
"Kikikikhahaha! You don't have what it takes to claim a life, frontliner bastard!"
Drifter didn't miss a beat.
"I don't? Why don't you ask Morte about it? He thought the same, right until I stabbed his throat."
XaXa froze. The other red players stopped. One of them even looked at the cursor above Drifter's head.
"You are lying!"
XaXa hissed. Drifter shrugged with faked nonchalance. He had never put what he did so bluntly. And he certainly hadn't felt that indifferent to Morte's death. But if it scared the red players, he was willing to bluff.
"How about I send you down to meet him and you trade stories. He was one of yours, wasn't him? Laughing Coffin."
Drifter spat on the ground after speaking the name of the red players guild. Red guild. XaXa narrowed his eyes. This wasn't turning out to be as fun as he had expected.
"Surrender, XaXa. You are more worthless than mobs. At least we get something from slaying them. From you, I'll just feel the need to change my spear, since dirt like you is hard to clean. Give up and you can spend the rest of SAO in Black Iron Palace. It won't be comfortable, but you'll be alive."
XaXa snarled like a wild animal, but Drifter just smirked. He was provoking them, which might not be the wisest thing to do. But he could see many dots approaching fast on his map. And he could also see Akari and another shadow sneaking behind the red player dueling Griselda.
Everything happened in a blur next. XaXa must have given some sort of invisible command to the red players, because they suddenly dashed back in unison. At the same time, the rest of Reaver's Requiem burst out of the mist and into the Hill of the Cross.
And lastly, Akari and her subordinate jumped on their target. It was a short and brutal scuffle, which ended up with the red player paralyzed on the ground and Akari sporting a nasty cut on her belly. Poison, from the looks of it. She would live.
If glares could kill, Drifter would be dead and buried by now. He knew he had made another enemy for life today. But he stared down Red-Eyed XaXa until the red player vanished, and stopped those who wanted to pursue Laughing Coffin.
If Drifter had it his way, when XaXa and his guild of murderers crossed paths with him again, he would send them down to meet Morte.
For anyone who's about to comment "oh Drifter and the others should have killed all the red players and stopped being such cowards and blah blah blah", don't. Drifter killed Morte, and there has been enough said about that already. It doesn't mean he will suddenly become a serial killer who goes around murdering every red player he comes across.
If you still can't accept that, then stop reading. I'm honestly tired of those kinds of comments demanding I change my story just because the MC isn't perfectly to your liking.
You know who you are. If you really "can't stand this beta MC anymore" as many of you so eloquently put, then make good on your "threat" and leave. Better yet, go write your own fanfic. All you have to do is put hours of effort every day into writing and revising, and then try to ignore a bunch of keyboard warriors who think constructive criticism is saying your story is trash. So easy.
For the vast majority of readers who were not the target of this rant, I'm sorry. 125 chapters in, I believe you know by now that I'm not the type of author to argue against bad comments, but it has just been getting too much lately.
I'm trying my best to write a good story while juggling my studies, work, internship, and family. I really love writing, and I am well aware that I'm not the best, and that there is much room to improve. I also love reading comments and interacting with readers. But first and foremost, I'm writing for myself, as a way to do something I enjoy and relax from life in general. If you make even writing into something I can't enjoy, then I'll simply stop.
This isn't a threat, even if it may seem like it. I'm not writing this to beg for positive comments either. I'm just saying what needs to be said for the sake of my mental health. I have too many author friends who developed anxiety and depression because of situations like this, and gave up writing entirely, something they throughly enjoyed. I won't be going down that path.
Again, sorry for the rant, and I hope you liked the chapter. More repercussions of Laughing Coffin next chapter!