The dull gray point of the sword chipped my shoulder.
I felt a chilly hand squeeze deep within my chest as the thin
line fixed to the corner of my vision shrank slightly.
That blue horizontal line—my HP bar—was a visualization of
my remaining life force. I still had more than 80 percent of my
maximum health remaining, but a wiser perspective said I was 20
percent closer to the brink of death.
Before the enemy's blade could begin its motion again, I
darted backward to maintain the distance between us.
"Huf …"
I forcefully exhaled and took another breath. My virtual
"body" in this world required no oxygen, but back on the other
side, my flesh-and-blood form was no doubt panting heavily as it
lay prostrate on my bed. A cold sweat would be glistening on my
outstretched hands, my pulse racing without end.
It was only natural.
Everything around me was a virtual 3-D object, the only thing
I'd lost being abstract, numerical hit points, but my life hung in
the balance all the same.
In that sense, this battle was the ultimate injustice. The
"enemy" before me—a half-man, half-beast monster covered in
slick green scales with long arms, the head of a lizard, and an
elongated tail—was not only inhuman, it wasn't even truly alive.
It was a mass of digital data that could be rebuilt by the system
endlessly, no matter how many times it was killed.
Okay, it wasn't quite that simple.
The lizardman's AI program was observing my fighting style,
learning my habits, and sharpening its reactions moment by moment. But the instant this individual creature died, that information would be reset rather than carried over to the next lizardman
to pop into the area.
So in a sense, this lizardman was alive. It was a unique individual, one of a kind.
"…Right."
It couldn't have understood what I was muttering under my
breath, but the creature—a level-82 monster called the "lizardman lord"—exposed the needle fangs lining its slender jaw and
hissed a laugh at me anyway.
It's real. Everything in this world is real. None of it is artificial.
I held out the long sword in a straight line, chest-high. The
lizardman raised the buckler on its left arm and drew back the
scimitar in its right.
As we paused, a chill breeze emanated from beyond the dim
labyrinth corridor, rippling the torches along the wall. The flame
light flickered off the damp stones.
"Gruagh!!"
With a ferocious roar, the lizardman lord leaped forward. Its
scimitar darted for my stomach in a sharp arc, a brilliant orange
curve flashing through the air. "Fell Crescent" was a high-level
heavy attack skill for curved swords, a deadly charging blow that
covered a distance of four yards in just 0.4 seconds.
But I knew it was coming.
Keeping my distance was the entire plan—I was daring the
enemy AI to use it against me. The scimitar blade passed just
inches from my face, my nose wrinkling at the charred odor left
in its wake. I ducked, pressing up against the lizardman's belly.
"…Seya!"
With a cry, I slashed my weapon sideways. The blade, glowing
cyan, sliced through the scales of the creature's soft underbelly,
spraying beams of crimson light in place of blood as a dull grak!
sounded from above.
But my combo continued unabated. The system automatically
assisted my further assault, chaining into the next attack faster
than I could have moved on my own.
This is the advantage of sword skills, the most significant and
decisive feature of battle in this world.
As the sword leaped back from left to right, it found purchase
in the lizardman's chest again. I followed that momentum into a
full-body spin and drove my third blow even deeper into the
enemy's core.
"Urarrgh!!"
No sooner had the lizardman regained mobility than it let out
a roar of rage and fear, swinging its scimitar down from on high.
But my combo wasn't over yet. From its full extension to the
right, my sword shot diagonally left and upward like a spring, directly striking the enemy's heart—its critical point.
This four-stroke combination left a square of glowing blue
lines extending outward from me: Horizontal Square, a four-part
sword skill.
The brilliant light reflected off the walls of the labyrinth, then
faded. At the same time, the HP bar displayed above the lizardman's head vanished without a trace. As it unleashed a long, final
scream, the massive green form threw itself backward, paused at
an unnatural angle—
And exploded into a mass of delicate polygons with a blast like
the shattering of a huge glass structure.
This is death in the virtual world. Instantaneous and simple.
Utter annihilation without a trace.
A purple font in the center of my view popped up, listing my
experience and item rewards. I swiped my sword back and forth
before returning it to the sheath over my shoulder. Backing up
several steps to rest against the wall of the dungeon, I let myself
slide to a sitting position.
When I released the breath I'd been holding and shut my eyes,
my temples began to throb dully with the fatigue of the long fight.
I shook my head several times to clear the pain before opening
my eyes again.
The clock display in the lower right-hand corner of my vision
showed that it was already past three in the afternoon. If I didn't
leave the maze soon, I'd never get back to town before dark.
"…Better turn back," I muttered to no one in particular and
slowly rose to my feet.
It was the end of a full day's worth of "progress." Another day
of successfully eluding the Grim Reaper's grasp. But once I returned to my bed and took a short rest, the next day would bring
another endless series of battles. And when the combat is endless
and the stakes are fatal, all the safety nets and backup plans in
the world won't prevent Lady Luck from betraying you at some
point down the line.
The only real issue was whether or not the game would be
"beaten" before I could draw the ace of spades.
If survival was your top priority, the smartest play would be to
remain in the safety of town until the day someone else beat the
game. But the fact that I spent every waking moment testing the
front line on my own, risking death for ever greater statistical rewards, meant one of two things: that I was either a tried-and-true
VRMMO (Virtual Reality Massive Multiplayer Online) addict…
Or a damned fool so arrogant as to honestly think he could
free the world with his sword arm.
As I started making for the exit of the labyrinth, a self-deprecating grin tugging at the corner of my mouth, I thought back to
that day.
Two years ago.
The moment that everything ended…and began.