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Sword Art Online - Volume 19 - Chapter 9




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Kirito and Ronie returned to their rooms, changed into their normal gear—swords included—and began their search from the forty-ninth floor. 
But they did not actually open every door and check every room. Kirito’s Incarnation power was so strong that he could sense Sheyta’s room from across the river, and he could detect the presence of people or monsters through the doors and walls, so simply concentrating from the center of the floor was enough to tell him what he needed to know. 
Every time a guard told them off, he would show them the chain with the symbol of the supreme commander on it and move on. They spent two hours rushing from floor to floor, making their way down the castle. 
At that point, Kirito was in the third basement floor, a massive storage space at the very bottom of Obsidia Palace. At a hallway intersection, he closed his eyes and focused—only to shake his head. 
“Nope…not here, either.” He sighed and leaned back against the black rock wall. The storage area was completely devoid of people; the only movement in the silent corridor was the weak flickering of the ore lamps. 
Ronie asked her pensive partner, “So does that mean they’re not in the castle…? Could they have escaped outside?” 
“Yeah…But that would have to mean that the injured minion flew over three kilors in just two minutes…” 
“Three kilors…? Is that how far you can sense?” 
“It depends on the target, but in empty space, and tracking something as large as a minion, there’s no mistaking it. So at a kilor and a half per minute, that would translate to ninety kilors an hour. I can’t imagine that any minion can fly at such an extreme speed.” 
“It would be a dragon at that point…Do you think that the dark knighthood is involved somehow, then?” Ronie whispered. 
Kirito shook his head again. “I can sense a dragon at ten kilors. And no dragon could fly that far in two minutes, though the dragoncraft might…” 
He paused, mouthing the words No way, but then he ruled that out. “No…if they were using the dragoncraft, it would have created a tremendous sound. Nothing as quiet as a stone pestle grinding against a mortar. And…what would a stone mortar and pestle grinding sound like anyway…?” he wondered. 
Ronie considered it but couldn’t come up with a satisfactory answer. Instead, all she could envision was the warmth of Leazetta drinking milk in her arms, without a care in the world, and the way she squeaked and giggled during dinner. Ronie clutched her arms tight around herself. 
“Leazetta is the hope that ties the two realms together,” Kirito murmured. “We can’t let her be killed. We just can’t…” 
The kernel of sheer determination buried in the midst of the deep concern in his voice took Ronie’s breath away. Kirito was leaning back against the wall with his head down, out of sight. She walked over to him, as if in a trance, and grabbed his shoulders. 
“…You can’t, Kirito. You can’t sacrifice yourself.” 
After a long silence, Kirito mumbled, “I told you before, remember? If I die in this world, I don’t actually die. So it’s better me than h—” 
“No!” shrieked Ronie. “That logic doesn’t apply…I…I’ll never see you again. And I don’t want that to happen…I don’t!!” 

 

She buried her face in his chest. The silver crest pendant bit into her forehead, but the pain in her skin was nothing next to the throbbing that gouged out her heart. 
“I will be your page for life. I’ve decided that I’m going to serve at your side forever. I don’t want anything else…but if you decide to make yourself a sacrifice, I will join you. I will force you to have me executed, too!” 
It was unfair, turning herself into a hostage. But it was also the unvarnished truth of what she wanted at that moment. 
“…Ronie…,” he murmured, his voice full of anguish. He lifted his hands to grab her shoulders. 
If he really wanted to, he could tie her in place or even knock her unconscious for two or three days—as long as it would take for everything to be over. But there would be no point. If he had been executed by the time she woke up, she’d simply follow him beyond the veil. 
He reached up to stroke her hair and whispered, “Thank you, Ronie. I won’t give up. I’ll find a way to rescue Leazetta…and I’ll return to the cathedral with you. That’s our home…” 
Tears flooded from her eyes. Her throat tensed up as she desperately tried to hold in the sobs that wanted to break free. 
“…Yes……yes…,” she managed to squeak, and she let her entire weight rest against Kirito. He continued to stroke her hair until she calmed down. 
Ten minutes later, they returned to the ground floor of the castle as the six o’clock bells rang. Sheyta and Iskahn were returning from the dark mages guild headquarters at the same moment. They regrouped and shared information—sadly, none of it was directly related to the kidnapper. 
“At the guild, they don’t have a handle on the mages who went missing in the war, and they haven’t been doing any experimentation on augmenting minions. I questioned them as the supreme commander, and by the Law of Power, they can’t lie to me,” Iskahn said. 
Sheyta gloomily added, “There was one lead, however…About a month ago, at a clay-harvesting spot under the guild’s control, a large amount of the finest clay that had already been extracted and bagged went missing.” 
“A large amount? Like…how much?” Kirito asked. 
Iskahn scowled and said, “Around enough to make three minions, they said. They handled the incident internally and didn’t report it to the Council of Five…Though I doubt we could have predicted this would happen today, even if we’d been aware of the theft…” 
“A month ago…Then it probably does have something to do with the incident in Centoria,” Kirito murmured. 
“We already got the report from the guards…but how did your search go?” Iskahn asked. 
“Well…we searched from the top floor to the storage all the way underground and didn’t find any minions or Leazetta. It wouldn’t even matter if there were hidden rooms or spaces you didn’t know about. As long as they weren’t hiding in some place completely isolated from consecutive space, they couldn’t have evaded my searching ability.” 
“If you say it, then it must be true…Which would mean they have to be far, far away by now…” 
Iskahn scratched at his silver-ringed head in desperation. Sheyta reached out to grab his hand and stop him, and she enveloped it with both of hers. 
With silence filling the great hall, the sound of the main doors of the castle closing was loud and heavy. The doors, including the hinges, were carved from obsidian, which made the sound of all that rock scraping quite distinct, almost like the rumble of distant thunder. Ronie felt like she’d heard the sound not that long ago, and she searched her memories. 
It was…Yes, it was during the test flight of Dragoncraft Unit One at Central Cathedral. In order to keep the craft from colliding with the top of the building, Asuna used Stacia’s divine power to shift the top five stories of the building aside. The massive chunk of marble scraped against itself and made that sound. 
Rock on rock…scraping. Like a mortar and pestle. 
“…Oh! Um, Lady Sheyta…,” she said, rushing over to the senior Integrity Knight, her mind a whirling blur. “Near your bedroom, is there another large obsidian door like the front gate here?!” 
“Obsidian door…? No, all the doors around are wooden, and the window frames are iron.” 
“Are there any mechanisms that would involve stone scraping on stone…?” 
That question got Kirito involved: 
“Oh…! When the guards said they heard a sound like a stone mortar and pestle! Yes…if there’s a hidden door on the exterior of the castle, it might make that kind of noise…but…” 
“But if it was just a hidden door, your nose could sniff it out?” Iskahn finished. He crossed his arms. “Plus…I’ve never heard about anything like that near our bedroom. Besides, why would you put a secret door on the outside that no one can use? It wouldn’t make sense unless you could fly.” 
“What if…it’s not a secret door…?” Kirito muttered, looking up at the ceiling of the great hall. “You said it yourself, Iskahn. The real top floor is above the current top floor of the castle.” 
The commander and the ambassador gasped at the same time. 
“The…the fiftieth floor…? B-but it’s sealed airtight, and the guards saw that the chains weren’t cut.” 
“What about from the outside? Is there even a single window on the fiftieth floor?” 
“……Actually……actually…I think…,” Iskahn murmured, craning his neck as he thought. “When Vecta appeared…and he summoned the ten lords, there was a huge window in the throne room. But now…when you look at it from the outside, there’s just a solid rock face above the forty-ninth floor, without any window…” 
“It must have closed up,” Kirito said, absolutely certain now. “When Vecta died and the chains resealed the room, the stone outside must have moved to cover up all the windows. The space was completely cut off from the rest of the world. The stone-grinding sound the guards heard was the rock moving once again.” 
“But…but…,” Iskahn stammered, his burnished skin going pale. “Only Emperor Vecta can undo the seal on the fiftieth floor…Would that mean the one who abducted Lea is…?” 
He gritted his teeth, afraid of even finishing that sentence. A horrified silence followed, until Sheyta cut through it with a voice like a blade. 
“Let’s go to the fiftieth floor.” 
Kirito agreed. “Yes…We might learn something if we examine the door.” 
Iskahn nodded—anything to wipe away his trepidation. 
The four rushed back to the top of the castle without a break once again. Ronie was able to keep up with them without running out of breath this time; perhaps she’d gotten the hang of the process. 
The group stopped on the forty-ninth floor and looked up the last stretch of stairs. Either because the palace’s internal heating system didn’t extend that far or for some other reason, Ronie felt chilly air sweeping down the darkened staircase and clinging to her legs. 
“…Let’s go,” Iskahn said, starting up the steps. The other three followed. 
It was only one flight of stairs, but it felt even longer than the trip from the first floor to the forty-ninth. A set of pitch-black double doors met them at the top. As the pugilist had said, the doors were locked up with huge chains about ten cens thick. They were pulled absolutely tight, with virtually no give. 
Iskahn walked slowly down the short hall to the doors, touched the gray chain, and pulled back, yelping, “It’s cold!” 
Determined, he reached out again and grabbed it fully. He crouched, shouted, and yanked on it, but the chain only made a slight clanking noise and did not budge. 
“…So the seal’s not broken…” 
He let go of the chain and touched the black door this time, then used both hands, and even pressed his ear to the surface. 
“I don’t hear anything…but if Lea’s anywhere inside the castle, it’s got to be past here…” 
The pugilist took a couple of steps back, paused a few moments, then assumed a fighting pose. Red flames curled from his clenched right fist. The chilly air began to vibrate, and Ronie’s instincts told her to keep her distance. 
Was he going to punch those chains with his bare fist? Kirito stepped forward at that moment, unaffected by the tremendous battle aura wreathing the pugilist’s body, and placed a hand on his shoulder. 
“I’ll do it, Iskahn.” 
“No…let me do this.” 
“Save your fist for the fight against the minions and kidnappers. Plus, I’m good at this sort of thing,” Kirito said simply. Iskahn exhaled, paused, and finally decided to undo his stance. 
“You can get away with anything, can’t you? Fine…it’s all yours,” he grumbled, standing back next to his wife. 
Now it was Kirito who stood before the chains. His glowing hand delicately brushed the surface of the metal. After repeating the action a few times, he traced a spot in the center of the chain several times with a finger. 
“Here…It’s so shallow you can’t see it, but there’s a mark here. Did you do this, Sheyta?” he asked without turning around. 
The Integrity Knight said, “Yes. As I said earlier, the Black Lily Sword could have cut through it.” 
“I bet…I’m going to use this mark now.” 

He let go of the chain and took three steps back, then squeezed the handle of his sword. When he drew it with a low sliding sound, Iskahn and Sheyta gasped in wonder. 
The Night-Sky Blade was made not of metal but of a black material with just a trace of translucence. It looked much like the stone that Obsidia Palace was carved out of, but this smooth, heavy, wet-looking substance was not rock: It was carved from the branch of a gargantuan cedar tree that had once loomed over the forest at the northern edge of the Norlangarth Empire. Sadore, the old man who now ran Central Cathedral’s arsenal, had spent an entire year and six whetstones honing the branch into a longsword. Kirito had used it to defeat several Integrity Knights, then Prime Senator Chudelkin and Administrator, and lastly, Emperor Vecta. It was quite literally the legendary sword that had saved the world. 
But no matter how high the priority level of the sword, the weapon alone would not be able to cut the sealing chains. Those chains, like the exterior of Central Cathedral or the Everlasting Walls that split Centoria into four sections, possessed a characteristic that made them unbreakable. Even Asuna and her godly powers could only move the cathedral walls, not destroy them. 
The thing that would sever these chains was not a swordsman’s skill or a sword’s power but the miraculous ability to overwrite the very laws of the world—Incarnation. 
Kirito took three more steps back, held out his left hand, and pulled back the Night-Sky Blade in his right until it was at his shoulder. His feet gripped the floor, spread front and back. He took a deep breath and held it. 
Red light glowed all over Kirito’s body, which was now in a stance belonging to no traditional swordfighting style. A whirlwind kicked up from the floor, causing Ronie to look away, but she held her ground. 
Eventually, the red light coalesced in the sword in his hand, turning the black blade crimson. There was a howling like the wind through branches, growing louder and louder, until it took on the metallic tinge of a dragon’s roar. The air crackled and shuddered, and even the obsidian floor and walls began to shake. 
“Un…believable…!” Iskahn exclaimed. 
“This is all…Kirito’s Incarnation…,” Sheyta quietly marveled. 
Suddenly, Kirito, dressed in a simple black shirt and trousers, was flickering like an illusion in the midst of a storm of light and air, such that he transformed—or at least, so it appeared. Perhaps the whipping-back-and-forth effect was just the hem of his black leather cloak. Steel armor shone on his shoulders and the right side of his chest. 
“Raaah!!” he bellowed, pushing off the ground. 
The sword in his hand thrust forward, bearing all his Incarnation. The roaring rose to an extreme level, and fine cracks appeared in the walls to their sides. 
The distance to the chains was five mels, clearly outside the range of his sword. But as though the sword stretched and grew, the crimson light surged like a spear and penetrated a single spot on the chains that locked the doors. 
Sound vanished, light vanished, wind vanished—and Kirito’s appearance returned to normal. 
In the ensuing silence, the length of chain split silently in two, dangling at the sides. The heavy doors seemed to shudder—or come back to life as doors—and groaned briefly. 
Kirito fell to a knee on the floor. Ronie rushed to his side. 
“Kirito!” She slipped an arm under his flank and helped him get up. Sheyta and Iskahn rushed over a moment later. 
“Are you okay, Kirito?!” shouted Iskahn. 
Kirito held up his free hand. “Yeah…I’ll recover soon. Hurry, go through the door…before the system—er, before the laws of the world notice the abnormality and restore the chain.” 
“Good idea,” said Sheyta, approaching the massive doors and pressing her hands against the menacingly carved obsidian slabs. They rumbled and gave way just the tiniest bit. “They’re open,” she announced, turning back. 
“Hurry, you two!” the Black Swordsman commanded. “If the kidnapper’s inside, they’ll have noticed the doors are open now… I’ll catch up in a moment!” 
“G-got it!” 
Iskahn smashed the doors open with a single kick. The hallway continued beyond the doorway, but it was filled with a darkness of a different kind than that over the stairs. Freezing-cold air poured forth. 
But Leazetta’s parents hurtled down the hallway without a moment of hesitation. A few seconds after they disappeared into the darkness, Kirito shouted encouragement and willed himself back to his feet. “Let’s go,” he told Ronie. 
She suppressed her concern and replied, “Understood!” 
It seemed like a good idea to call the guards currently searching downstairs before they rushed in, but Kirito was right: Every moment counted now. And if the enemy was an advanced user of dark arts, a few guards with a bit of sword training were only going to be targets, not a source of help. 
Instead, she pulled out a little bottle of medicinal solution from her carrying bag, removed the stopper, and handed it to Kirito. He glugged it down and made a face at the bitter, sour taste, but his complexion was already looking ruddier as he thanked her. They lined up at the doorway and stepped into the dark passageway. 
It felt like they had just passed through a transparent membrane. Chilly air surrounded them, turning their breath white, as though the interior heating system did not work here. But the cold and fear completely vanished when Ronie heard a noise from farther down the hall. 
The sound of a baby crying. 
“…!” 
She and Kirito shared a look and took off running. 
The passage turned left up ahead. Once they were around the corner, a second set of doors came into view. The crying was coming through the open doorway. They rushed desperately through it and into a vast open space. 
Dark-red carpet covered the floor. Circular pillars lined either side, carved with hideous monster decorations. Ore lamps hung from the walls, casting pale-white light. Straight ahead was a higher platform, in the center of which sat a very ornate chair. That had to be the throne that Emperor Vecta had returned to sit upon. 
In the center of the room stood Iskahn and Sheyta, and beyond them was a monstrous black form—a minion with its wings spread. 
And finally, a shadowy figure stood next to the throne. It wore a black hooded robe, but the sleeves and collar of the robe were vague and smoky, hiding the wearer’s details. The figure was skinny but very tall. There was a dagger in its right hand, glowing a venomous purple shade, the tip of which was pointed at the baby cradled in its left arm. 
Leazetta’s cries were weak, and her face was scrunched up. She’d been exposed to this freezing cold for over two hours, so her life had to be significantly diminished. They needed to save her at once, but they couldn’t afford to be careless now. The rage and haste were palpable in Sheyta’s and Iskahn’s stances. 
The robed kidnapper spoke in an alien voice that sounded like some kind of beast or bird attempting to form human words, its mouth unfit for speech. 
“…Ah, so it was the swordsman delegate who cut the chain. You are more trouble than even the stories say…” 
It was impossible to gauge the age or race of the speaker. But there was one thing that was very clear. 
“So…you’re a man! Then you’re not a dark mage!!” shouted Iskahn. The kidnapper laughed, making an eerie hissing noise. 
“From what I hear, men use sacred arts in the human realm, yes? So a man can be a dark mage, can he not?” 
“Wait…I recognize that poisoned blade…You’re with the assassins guild!” 
“Are you certain…? Anyone can use this sword. I might even be a pugilist you drove out of the guild.” The kidnapper laughed mockingly again, then immediately turned chilly. “The time for talk is over. I’ll have to forget about the public execution, but I still mean to collect the delegate’s head. Ambassador, use that slicing hand of yours to cut it off, or your daughter dies.” 
A gray hand extended from the black sleeve, bringing the dagger closer to Leazetta’s face. Iskahn and Sheyta went completely stiff. 
At that very moment, something twanged, and the tip of the poisoned blade deflected sideways. A white ball of light surrounded Leazetta’s entire body. The kidnapper nearly dropped the baby altogether but quickly readjusted their hold on her. 
Leazetta hadn’t done anything, of course. Next to Ronie, Kirito’s right hand was outstretched toward the throne and glowing the same color. He was protecting the baby with a barrier made of Incarnation. 
“Sheyta! Iskahn!” he shouted, his voice pained. “I won’t last long! Hurry…” 
“I’m on it!!” shouted Iskahn, his body throwing off a light like burning flames. 
The man in the black robe gave a strange, unintelligible command. The minion reacted to it. 
“Bshooo!” the monster roared, but the sound was drowned out by the pugilist’s bellow. “Raaaaaaaah!!” 
Iskahn charged forward with tremendous force, driving his flaming fist into the minion’s stomach. The monster’s large body bent as the impact traveled in waves outward from its belly to its limbs. 
It exploded, shedding a tremendous amount of filthy black blood, like a leather skin bursting when overfilled with liquid. Iskahn crossed his arms in front of his body to protect against the spraying poison. 
A slender shadow then shot around Iskahn’s back. Having been protected from the direct path of the blood by her husband, Sheyta charged at the throne, a gray blur. 
“…!!” 
With a silent scream, her left hand shot forth. The right arm of the kidnapper, holding the purple dagger, came loose from the shoulder and fell to the floor. Sheyta readied her right hand to chop off the remaining arm, which was holding her baby. 
But within the darkness of the hood, something small flashed near the mouth. 
A blowgun. 
She quickly lifted her hand to block the dart, but her slender body immediately toppled. 
The man in the black robe readjusted Leazetta in her protective ball of light and rushed to the left of the throne, gliding over the carpet. There was nothing but black wall in that direction, however. There was no escape for him. 
Except… 
A number of thoughts burst through Ronie’s mind, and the moment they added up to one picture, she was on the run with her sword out. 
In the distance, the kidnapper was charging right for the wall, his black robe whipping behind him. A large jewel below his neck glowed a brilliant scarlet color. 
A part of the wall flashed the same color. A square portion of the obsidian wall began to rise with a sound like heavy rocks scraping one another…like a stone pestle being ground against a mortar. 
The kidnapper rushed for the window that should not have been there, carrying Leazetta. 
The distance to the attacker was over ten mels. It wasn’t a distance Ronie could cover in a single leap with her leg strength. 
But she would reach it. She would make sure of it. 
“Yaaaaaaa!!” Summoning all her strength and willpower, she leaped forward with a wild scream. 
She readied her new sword. When it went completely still, fusing with her arm as one shape pointed at a very specific height and angle, the blade began to glow light blue. 
Ronie’s body accelerated as though pushed by invisible hands. She left a bright trail in the air as she crossed ten mels in a single blink. 
This was the Aincrad style’s ultra-charging thrust, Sonic Leap. 
Kirito had taught her both the move and what its sacred-tongue name meant—and the lesson paid off as she severed the left arm of the kidnapper from the shoulder. 
At that moment, Kirito’s barrier of Incarnation disappeared, hurtling Leazetta into the air unprotected. The man in the black robe did not stop running, despite the loss of his arms and so much blood. He leaped toward the window. 

 

If she had performed another technique, she might have been able to defeat the kidnapper once and for all. But Ronie chose instead to stop and catch the baby. 
The interloper shot through the window headfirst and vanished, melting into the morning light. Meanwhile, Ronie caught Leazetta firmly with her left arm and clutched the baby to her chest. She immediately crouched, laying her sword on the ground, and covered the pitifully wailing child with both arms to provide her with warmth. 
“…I know, poor Lea, that was very scary. But it’s okay…You’re safe now…,” she murmured, rubbing cheek against cheek. Eventually, the crying calmed down, and a tiny hand touched Ronie’s face. On her left she heard the sound of the window closing again. 
Ronie continued to hold the baby until someone came and put a hand on her back. 
 



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