Log Horizon - Volume 11 - Chapter 4.6

6 
Well, no, I don’t know. 
While he was deep in thought, Leonardo was unleashing a storm of fierce sword slashes. 
He wasn’t saying he couldn’t imagine it. However, it was a fact that Elias’s pain belonged to Elias alone. 
Leonardo had traveled with him, and he thought he knew the guy’s cheerfulness, the way he was honest to the point of stupidity, and the sorrow he’d hidden. He’d also known that he grieved the loss of his comrades and was tormented by the guilt thinking that the loss had been caused by his own lack of strength. 
Leonardo only knew about these things, though. He couldn’t say he understood them. 
He couldn’t say so, and he probably shouldn’t anyway. 
Traveling companions were only slightly closer than strangers, after all. 
A burning pain ran through his side. 
The disaster was practically a car accident, and his green suit ripped. This defensive gear had focused on stealth performance to begin with, and it had almost no resistance to cold air. 
There was a noise like a bell ringing, very faintly. 
A sharp blade was thrust out in exchange, and Elias evaded by simply tilting his head. Apparently, it was all he could do just to graze the collar of his white surcoat. 
It was the difference in their combat power made visible. 
He’d used quite a large percentage of his HP as bait, and yet, grazing the nape of Elias’s neck was all he’d had been able to manage. 
True, Elias had taken quite a lot of damage by now as well, but that was because he’d been worn down before starting this battle with Leonardo. 
Still, that difference in combat power felt good. 
If Elias had been weak, he probably would have felt a lot sadder. 
“That’s what makes you Elias Hackblade after all!” 
As if the words Leonardo had said had been an actual electric attack spell, Elias’s clouded eyes widened slightly. As if what the Adventurer had pointed out had touched an old wound that wouldn’t heal, Elias gave a wounded scream and swung his sword. 
He really couldn’t afford to take that attack. 
The mere aftereffects of the impact that was headed this way would be able to pierce clean through armor. A direct hit from that blade might even cost him all his limbs. Pulling back at the last second, Leonardo swung his twin katanas as well. If he couldn’t win through attack size, then he’d attack faster. 
“I mean, you’re their friend, right?!” 
Even though he thought the words would never get through, Leonardo yelled. 
Of course he did. This was a world Elias didn’t know. 
And this was something only somebody like Leonardo could tell him: 
Elias Hackblade was a shining hero. 
Captain America and the invincible Thor, Tony (who was bursting with the engineer spirit), the high-minded Hal Jordan, and Doctor Strange. The world’s ultimate heroes, who shone like a veritable galaxy. 
A hero who never lost hope even when he came up against difficulties or despair, who nobly and selflessly protected others—one of those individuals with absolutely indomitable wills who gathered in the hall of fame. 
He was one of the people Leonardo idolized. 
“I knew about you…even before I met you at the Tekeli Ruins. I’ve known for ages. Elias Hackblade! The world’s one and only Blademancer. An elf hero who belongs to the Knights of the Red Branch, one of the Thirteen Global Chivalric Orders. A blueblood raised by the fairy tribe. The knight who accepted the two-handed sword Crystal Stream, along with the feelings of three Anemoi.” 
Elder Tales wasn’t something enjoyed exclusively inside the game itself. 
It really wouldn’t have been possible for a single player to discover the countless quests that were scattered across the wide world, and so players shared information. Game information was communicated in all sorts of ways, through strategy sites and bulletin boards, or by word of mouth, and through messengers. 
In particular, as was common with MMORPGs, newly introduced events and quests were discussed by lots of users. Since the sort of events Elias appeared in tended to be tied to the main stories of expansion packs, this was especially true of them. 
Elias Hackblade was a typical handsome-hero character, as if he’d been packed with the dreams of the game developers. Long, streaming blond hair and sapphire eyes. A white coat and a huge magic sword. He’d appeared in over a hundred quests. 
He was one of the most famous characters in the Elder Tales game. 
Leonardo didn’t know whether it was like that on the other servers, but at least on the North American and European servers, Elias was practically the icon for Elder Tales. 
He’d met a hero like that in the Tekeli Ruins and had traveled with him. 
It had been an encounter the likes of which might never happen again, and a journey straight out of a fantasy. 
“Even among the Adventurers, you were famous, Elias Hackblade. The guardian of the People of the Earth. The hero who dashed around, crossing borders; the pride of the Thirteen Global Chivalric Orders. A whole lot of Adventurers have fought beside you. We swapped rumors about you, too.” 
“Silence!” 
Along with that howl, a storm of ice assailed him. 
Elias’s mana was out of control, and winglike shields of ice had grown from his back. 
Pushed to action by his rising emotions and sense of duty, Leonardo took another half step toward death. 
The ice barrier spell missiles that showered down on him were closer to the size of spears than daggers, and they hit home. Leonardo’s HP was falling sporadically, but as rapidly as a glass of spilled wine. 

“No, I’m not gonna shut up. In the Fortress of Darkness, you defended the elves as leader of the Lightbringers, and in the Dragon’s Lair, you confronted the evil dragon Zahat alongside the Adventurers. You used the matchless sword technique Fairy Arts, and sometimes you opposed the Adventurers, but it was always to protect the People of the Earth. You were the guardian of this world, absolutely.” 
The word guardian seemed to have poleaxed Elias. 
He gazed at Leonardo with eyes that looked as if they’d been frozen by eternal grief, and he seemed to be shedding wordless tears. 
Leonardo was building a bridge. 
He was going to deliver the goodwill of the hundreds and thousands of geeks who’d supported Elias to the last man. As a Delivery Person subclass, that was his mission. He had to teach this dumb, wounded, discouraged hero what he was really worth. 
“We knew. That time when you got tricked by the red-nosed Princess Rubience and locked up: In the quest, it said you’d been flattered into drinking a sleeping drug, but the truth is that you felt sorry for that pathetic princess, and so you drank the drug so she’d have someone to talk to, right? During the hunt for the golden boar, weren’t you the one who forgot Tonelico’s Spear at the inn? I know. I… We…” 
Naturally, there had been people who hated him, too. 
Games were things for players to enjoy. The mere fact that he was stronger than the players, was something like a main character and could adventure, was enough to earn him hate from haters. The fact that Elias’s Blademancer class was an exclusive one that couldn’t be selected by the players soured his reputation as well. 
However, he’d been liked more than that. When he’d first appeared, he’d been depicted as arrogant, but as time passed, his personality had acquired warmth and a sense of humanity. His curse meant he always had to rely on the Adventurers for the most important things, which was both appreciated and considered comical. They’d called him—affectionately (and a little mockingly)—“Mr. Elias” online. 
Naturally, when people talked about him, they teased, sympathized with, and laughed at him. He was a slightly unfortunate hero who desperately argued for peace on their screens but sometimes spoke of tragedies, saying, “My curse sows unhappiness…” 
But he had been loved. 
He was the character who represented Elder Tales, their beloved game. How could he not have been loved? 
Particularly by Leonardo, who aspired to be a hero in this world. 
What sort of person is he, or she, to you? 
He remembered Coppélia’s quiet, thoughtful question. 
What sort of person was Elias to Leonardo? 
He’d had the answer to that one for ages. 
“I spent Sacred Heart and the Tower of the Oracle with you. At this point, I dunno how it is, but during that invasion maneuver, I was there with you. I went up that long twilight staircase with you. We sent up that victory cheer together, too. I bet you don’t remember. If you think about it that way, the Catastrophe really was genuinely shitty, huh? You were a hero to us, to the Adventurers, too.” 
As a pretty decent engineer who stood in front of clients wearing a necktie, he’d just been too embarrassed to say it, but— 
—he was a cartoon hero. 
Don’t make me say totally obvious stuff. 
“What hero?! Due to this curse, I can’t even save the people who call for me. I watched my comrades die! Even the Words of Death—their echo binds me. All the Ancients are bound by their spell. If it’s to tear these chains apart…” 
Yes, if it’s to tear these chains apart, I believe I would do anything. 
Elias’s expression was tight and warped. He’d probably drained his MP dry by using all those big techniques. He drew several wheezing breaths, and since his face was dripping wet, it was impossible to tell whether he was crying. That was how much regret he held inside. 
His pain got through to Leonardo. 
Elias Hackblade, a legendary hero who was this powerful, renowned, and proud. After fighting this great man—who, if he’d been able to fight properly, would never have had anything but easy victories—Leonardo’s HP was down to a mere 25 percent. 
But it didn’t fall below 25 percent. 
It wouldn’t. 
This Ancient hero, who was at level 100, couldn’t even beat a single Assassin. This was why Kanami hadn’t fought Elias seriously and in fact hadn’t been able to. She’d avoided shoving this result in his face, and their match had turned into a repetitious draw. 
“In order to tear these chains apart, I would undertake any hardship. To keep from having anything stolen, to protect the world, I, Elias Hackblade, would discard even the blood of the fairies!” 
“That’s fine! Go on and try it, Elias! I’ll be the villain for you. —A wannabe, as wussy as a frog. C’mon and throttle me to death!” 
Strangely enough, both Elias’s and Leonardo’s remaining HP was around 25 percent. Putting all of that on the line, the two of them clashed. The technique Elias chose was Aqua Thousand Rain, which intermittently released countless ice daggers. Leonardo went with Deadly Dance, which he’d improved over and over again. 
The shards of ice were harder than shoddy metal, and Leonardo brandished actual steel, shattering them. The pulverized ice reflected the light in the limestone cavern like diamond dust, turning their surroundings into a world of silver. 
Leonardo commended his friend, who’d been born from ink and paper, from modeling tools and code. 
He’d idolized the one he’d entrusted his dreams to and had fantasized about one day becoming someone to whom others entrusted theirs. 
If he’d said that, as a student, he hadn’t dreamed of being a game programmer just a little bit, he would have been lying. 
It might have been coercion, and he might have been forcing a role onto him. 
However, even so, it was true he wouldn’t be able to connect if he didn’t step forward. 
Traveling companions were only a little closer than strangers. 
…But who’d decided that that distance was further than friends? 
He’d been invited to a Toon Town party. Leonardo had resolved to become Elias’s friend. As far as he was concerned, that wasn’t something that would be given to him; it was something to win. 
Countless attacks traced complicated tracks of cold and flame in midair. 
Their exchange was a symphony of shrill echoes and iridescent light. 
It was the melody of a new world that Elias and Leonardo needed to learn, and it shaved away just a little of their HP.