THE REMAINING SENTINELS WERE OBLITERATED AT the same time as their boss. The torches on the walls shifted from a dim orange to bright yellow, removing the gloom that shrouded the chamber. A cool breeze swept through the room, carrying the heat of the battle away with it.
No one wanted to break the silence that descended. Teams E and G stood in the back, the center groups of A, C, D, and F were kneeling in recovery mode, and Agil’s team B, the last line of tank defense, sat on the floor, all staring around warily. It was as though they were all afraid the beast lord might come back to life at any moment.
Even I was dead still, my sword still raised at the end of the final slash.
Was it truly the end? Or would there be another surprise, another alteration from the beta?
A small pale hand touched my arm, gently pulling the sword down. It was Asuna the fencer. Her chestnut-brown hair rippled in the breeze as she stared at me.
Only now, with her familiar hooded cape removed, did I realize just how beautiful she was. No player could truly be this gorgeous. Asuna accepted my dumbstruck gaze without a complaint—something that would probably never happen again—for several moments, then quietly said, “Nice work.”
Finally, it hit me. It was over … We’d finally removed the barrier that might have trapped eight thousand players on the first floor forever.
As though the game was waiting for me to make that realization, a new message suddenly popped into existence. Experience gained, col distributed … and loot.
The faces of the other members finally returned to normal as they received the same message. A rousing cheer broke the silence.
Some roared with their fists in the air. Some hugged their partners. Some put on absurd dances. Amid the storm of celebration, one man stood and approached. It was Agil.
“That was brilliant command, and even better swordsmanship. Congratulations—this victory belongs to you.”
I couldn’t help but notice that he spoke the word “congratulations” in English with perfect intonation. The big man grinned widely and extended a thick fist.
I thought about how to respond to this and sadly couldn’t come up with anything better than a muttered “Nah…” I lifted my own fist to at least give him a bump when someone bellowed behind me.
“Why?!”
The entire room fell silent again at the agonized, tearful shriek. I tore my gaze from Asuna and Agil to look at a man with light armor and a scimitar. I didn’t recognize him at first, but when the next words poured from his twisted lips, I finally understood.
“Why did you abandon Diavel to die?!”
He was from team C, one of the perished knight Diavel’s friends. Behind him, the other four members were standing, their faces red and miserable. Some were even crying.
“Abandon…?”
“You know what you did! You… you knew the moves the boss was using! If you’d told us that information to start with, Diavel wouldn’t have died!”
The other raid members stirred at these words, murmuring among themselves.
“How did he know? That stuff wasn’t in the strategy guide …”
To my surprise, Kibaou did not follow up these suspicions. He was standing to the side, his lips firmly closed, as though grappling with indecision. Instead, another member of team E stepped forward and jabbed an accusing finger at me.
“I … I know the truth! He’s a beta tester! That’s how he knew the boss’s patterns! He knows all the best quests and hunting grounds! He’s hiding them from us!!”
There was no surprise on the faces of team C. I doubted Diavel had told them himself—he would not bring up the topic of the beta test on his own, as he was hiding his involvement in it—but they’d no doubt all had the same suspicion when I identified those katana skills.
The scimitar man’s eyes boiled over with hatred, and he prepared to level another accusation at my feet when a mace warrior in Agil’s tank party raised his hand and spoke calmly.
“But the strategy guide we got yesterday said it was based on the boss’s attack patterns in the beta. If he’s really a beta tester, wouldn’t all of his knowledge be based on what we learned from that?”
“W-well …”
The scimitar-wielder pressed on in anger, speaking for the rest of his teammates. “That strategy guide was all fake. Argo sold us a bunch of lies. She’s a former beta tester too; there’s no way she’d give away the truth for free.”
Uh-oh. This was heading in a bad direction.
I held my breath. I could take whatever criticism was directed my way, but we had to avoid an outright witch hunt of Argo and the other beta testers. But how to prevent their hatred from running out of control …?
I looked down at the dark floor, where the system messages hanging in view came into sharper relief. My experience, col and items …
An idea abruptly popped into my head, followed by a terrible indecision. If I made this choice, there was no telling what might happen to me. I might even be assassinated when I least expected it, as I once feared. But at the very least, it might redirect the anger away from Argo …
Agil and Asuna had finally heard enough. They spoke up simultaneously.
“Oh, come on …”
“Listen …”
I cut them off with a gesture and stepped forward, assuming an arrogant look and staring coldly into the scimitar-wielder’s eyes. I slumped my shoulders and spoke in as emotionless a voice as I could manage.
“A former beta tester? Please… don’t treat me like those amateurs.”
“Um…what …?”
“Think back. The odds were stacked against anyone trying to get into the SAO closed beta. How many of the thousand who made it in do you think were true MMO fans? They were all noobs who barely understood how to level. You guys are way smarter about this game than they ever were.”
Forty-two players silently took in my disdainful words. There was a chill in the air, an unseen blade that traced the skin, just as it had before we tackled the boss.
“But I’m not like them.” I grinned snidely. “I made it to a floor that no one else in the beta reached. I knew the boss’s katana attacks because I’d fought mobs on a way higher floor who used the same moves. I know plenty about this game—way more than Argo.”
“What … do you mean…?” rasped the man from team E who had first labeled me a beta tester. “You’re … you’re worse than a beta tester … You’re a cheat! A cheater!”
Calls of cheater and beta cheater rang out from me. Eventually they blended together into a strange new word, “beater.”
“A beater? I like the sound of that,” I proclaimed loudly for the entire group to hear, fixing them all with a level stare. “That’s right, I’m a beater. Don’t you ever insult my skill by calling me a former tester.”