"Thank you for your hard work, Yurnero, and Sheeta."
They had returned to the Dark Elf camp countless times by now, and Kizmel once again spoke with a voice full of gratitude. Teaming up with the Dark Elf had always gone smoothly. As a companion, her strength was dependable. However, this relationship would likely come to an end soon.
The campaign quests for the Third Floor, all ten chapters, had been steadily completed.
An hour ago, they had just finished battling the final wave of enemies. Judging from the setting, the enemies were likely fallen elves. From a story perspective, this conclusion was probably just the beginning of a series of more tedious tasks to come.
"These have truly been memorable days. But the time has come to say goodbye. No matter what, we must return to the upper levels to report to Her Majesty the Queen and the higher-ups."
"Through that so-called Sacred Tree Teleportation? Anyway, we definitely can't go in, right?" Satoru shrugged.
"Yes, only we people of Lyusula can bypass the Floor Lords to make such a convenient transfer…" Kizmel gazed at the towering tree deep within the camp and smiled faintly. "But didn't I mention earlier? It's limited to the ninth floor and below. As for you, I'm sure you'll be able to keep defeating the Floor Lords and continue onward."
The resilient female knight nodded to herself.
"With Sheeta by your side, nothing will stand in your way."
Satoru cast a helpless glance at the quiet girl beside him.
Why does she make it sound like it's all because of Sheeta?
It's not like I'm just tagging along here…
"Her ability is more than enough to qualify her for the Queen's Royal Guard. I have great confidence in my judgment."
Kizmel paused, as if recalling something, then nodded slightly.
"With her by your side, there shouldn't be any difficulty you can't overcome."
"Oh, come on. She may be a capable fighter, but I'm not weak either," Satoru said, spreading his hands in exasperation.
As if reading his thoughts, Sheeta leaned over and pinched his cheek.
"Hey, hey, stop that! Why is your strength stat so ridiculous?!"
Satoru twisted and struggled against her seemingly slender fingers.
Watching their playful exchange, Kizmel couldn't help but laugh. The commotion went on for a while, and just as Satoru was grimacing and clutching his face, Kizmel suddenly pulled him into an embrace.
His first thought was that he might actually die this time.
But Sheeta simply stared at him with bright, shining eyes.
"You're actually quite slender, Yurnero," Kizmel said softly as she held him. "Though we haven't spent much time together, I can still feel the heart of a warrior within you. Strength is a good thing, but even the toughest things will one day be worn down into dust."
Satoru paused.
"But you've changed as well, haven't you? Perhaps you haven't noticed it yourself. You are slowly being dyed in her amber color."
"Keep holding on to that fragile courage."
With that quiet whisper, Kizmel released him, turned, and gave Sheeta a farewell embrace as well.
"Given the circumstances, I suppose I have no choice but to forgive you."
Sheeta shook her head and sighed, hands on her hips.
If it weren't for the fact that I can't beat you, do you think you'd be this arrogant?
Satoru instinctively put on a flattering smile and nodded repeatedly.
"Well then, this is where we part ways."
After the brief farewell, Kizmel composed herself and returned to her usual dignified and heroic bearing.
"If we have the chance, we'll meet again."
"There will be a day… probably," Satoru said uncertainly.
"One last thing, Yurnero."
Kizmel hesitated slightly, as if she still had something to say.
"What is it?"
"It's just a vague feeling of mine," she said, her agate-colored eyes fixed on him, a hint of concern in her tone. "When you fight, don't become too immersed. I'm not telling you to lose focus, but… I worry it might end up hurting you."
"Hurting myself? What do you mean?" Satoru was taken aback.
"I'm not very good at putting my feelings into words. If it were my younger sister, she would be able to explain it better."
Kizmel shook her head with a wry smile.
"If I had to describe it… I would call it a blade of the soul."
Satoru grew even more confused.
"No, don't think too much about it. If it's you, and if Sheeta is by your side, everything will be fine."
Kizmel smiled again and waved at them. This time, there was no hesitation. The figure of the valiant female knight looked resolute and reliable as her violet silhouette gradually disappeared from their sight. At the same time, her presence on the party interface quietly vanished as well.
"A blade of the soul, huh? I really don't get it."
Satoru let out a long breath and turned to Sheeta.
"Let's go. Once we turn in this last quest, our work here will finally be done."
...
"Has Kizmel already returned ahead of us? Hmm, that's not a bad thing, I suppose. I never expected to uncover the collusion between the Forest Elves and the fallen elves here, attempting to use the Sacred Tree's power to obtain bodies that match their long lifespans. If that's truly the case, then the situation is far from optimistic."
The burly Dark Elf Commander remained inside his imposing command tent. This would likely be the last time they met him, so Satoru listened more attentively than usual to the otherwise lengthy and tedious dialogue.
"We will return after completing our final investigation. Thank you for your selfless assistance, human swordsman."
"It's only right, it's only right."
After all, you paid me, so we're even.
"If there is an opportunity on the Fourth Floor, I hope you will join us again. Here, take this letter of introduction and deliver it to the General."
The commander handed over the quest item, and Satoru accepted it.
"No amount of thanks would be enough."
The commander suddenly shook his head.
"There is one more thing I have yet to properly thank you for, retrieving my nephew's medal from the Spider Cavern."
"That was…"
Satoru looked at him in surprise, examining him again. For the first time, a subtle change appeared on that rugged, powerful face, one that seemed almost too coarse for an elf.
"Thank you," he said, bowing slightly at the workbench. "Next, you'll be facing the floor boss. If so, be careful of the poison it uses. It would be best to stock up on some potions."
"We'll keep your advice in mind."
Once they stepped out of the tent, there was nothing left for them to do at the camp.
"Feeling a bit reluctant to leave?"
Glancing at the setting sun, Satoru turned and saw Sheeta looking back at the camp.
"Days like this really feel peaceful," Sheeta said.
"That's true. Since we're the only ones doing this quest, and we're resting in this isolated quest space, the atmosphere of a multiplayer online game has faded quite a bit."
Come to think of it, if I were on my own, I'd probably feel a little lonely.
"My level is getting closer to Nero's now, you know."
The young swordswoman patted her chest proudly. By the way, the only thing lacking in her feminine figure, if one could call it that, was perhaps the curve of her chest. Well… it couldn't really be called a flaw. It had its own kind of charm.
"That's right. Looks like you'll be joining the boss battle this time. The players who haven't seen you fight yet will definitely be surprised."
Satoru delivered the praise in a flat tone.
"Hehe."
She didn't seem bothered at all. As if committing the camp's final scenery to memory, Sheeta walked off with her hands behind her back, skipping lightly.
...
On the third day, after thorough preparations, the Third Floor raid began under Diavel's command. The boss was a giant, ancient tree-like creature. In its final phase, its tangled roots transformed into spider-like limbs, and it released clouds of poisonous mist.
However, thanks to a large supply of antidotes, the raid proceeded smoothly with minimal setbacks. It was the most successful boss battle so far.
After a grueling fight that lasted over an hour, the Third Floor was finally cleared.
Just as Satoru had predicted, Sheeta's figure, wielding her refined swordsmanship, left a deep impression on every player present.
The title of "Sword Princess" would soon echo even louder throughout Aincrad.
In the boss room, Diavel followed through on his earlier promise and officially appointed Satoru as Vice Commander of the Divine Dragons Alliance. With Sheeta joining as well, the guild's momentum surged dramatically. Truly a cause for celebration.
Even with ninety-seven floors still ahead, if things continued like this, they would reach the top one day.
Of course, the prisoners trapped in this cage were bound to stumble at some point along the way.
The future remained uncertain, but for now, there was a sense of peace.
His previously mismatched gear had been replaced with a clean, blue-toned outfit. The designer was likely someone who worked in fashion in the real world. Being able to assemble such a polished look using only basic layers, especially without standardized equipment supply, was something worth admiring.
"Nero really has gotten a lot more handsome. I guess when you don't have the natural looks, you have to rely on presentation."
The girl's blunt remark came from behind him again. Satoru was already used to it.
"Yeah, yeah. Not like you. You look good in anything."
He replied without emotion.
The two of them climbed the stairs together, once again moving in a front-and-back formation.
Satoru quietly slowed his pace.
"You should walk in front of me. It feels weird having people staring at my back."
"You're such a child."
With a sigh at his immaturity, Sheeta playfully hopped up to the step ahead. At last, her figure fell fully into Satoru's view.
Yes. This is better.
Satoru smiled faintly.
This way, I can see you clearly. And if one day I disappear from behind you, you won't even notice.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, Sheeta suddenly paused and stepped back, stopping beside him on the same step.
"..."
Satoru froze.
Really…
He let out a quiet sigh.
This truly is…
An incurable poison.
He recalled Kizmel's final words.
A blade of the soul?
For someone like me, whose defenses are already riddled with holes, your smile is the most unstoppable blade.