Ichiro hadn’t been affected by being elevated to the status of myth, but some people might be. Even more so for people already struggling with inferiority complexes.

“Do you know anything about the person behind King?” Ichiro asked.

“I have some idea,” Matsunaga responded. “I myself am an outcast in society, so I can tell he’s of a similar breed.” Matsunaga sped up very slightly to walk ahead of Ichiro, hiding his expression. “Perhaps that’s one reason I want to see King declared the strongest.”

Felicia more or less knew what Ichiro was thinking.

Just as Sera Kiryu wanted to settle things with Ichiro, Ichiro wanted to settle things with King Kirihito. When she put how Ichiro was acting together with what she knew about him, that was the only conclusion she could come to.

She had talked to Sera Kiryu in the real world just a few hours before. Felicia still didn’t fully understand the meaning behind the way her friend had smiled at her, but she did know why Sera wanted to settle things with Ichiro. It was a sort of groping in the dark — a search for any way to find the strength to face the real world. In Ichiro Tsuwabuki, Sera had finally found a barometer for that.

Felicia had witnessed King Kirihito’s strength firsthand. Even if it was only in a game, she had to acknowledge the immense skill it took to play that way.

But what if...

What if Ichiro effortlessly beat King Kirihito?

Would Sera just brush it off, or plunge into heartbreak and never recover?

The unwavering cool she had always admired so much in Itchy... she had never hated it as much as she did right now. Could she ask him to go easy on someone, just this once? Even if she did, he probably wouldn’t listen to her, and it would make him think of her as a child, too. She decided to make no mention of it.

“What’s wrong, Fellie?” Amesho asked.

Felicia had been absorbed in her own thoughts for a while, but as Amesho called her back to attention, she pasted on a smile. “N-Nothing!”

There were a few reasons why Felicia had accepted Matsunaga’s offer to join them in the underground expedition. One was that she wanted time to think.

King Kirihito would surely be appearing in the Grand Quest soon — though above or below ground, she couldn’t be sure — which meant that it wouldn’t be long before Ichiro and King met up again.

She had to figure out what she should do before that happened. She needed time to think about that.

Her other reason was the possibility that events here might help her make up her mind. At the moment, she had no idea where the dice would fall.

About two hours after the beginning of the raid, the group arrived at the final floor.

Moving further in, they came upon an altar room with a stone monument. There was a small group already there, standing in formation around it — either spectators, or challengers trying to complete the event first. Since the party was made up primarily of spellcasters, there was a high chance they were the latter.

“Hey.” Ichiro was the first to speak, without any trace of shyness.

The party around the stone monument all turned to him at once and took a few steps back.

“Making progress?” he asked. “If so, we’ll take over.”

“We’ll take over.”

“We’ll take over.”

“Let us take over.”

Ichiro heard the string of voices coming from the group of top players behind him. Scary.

Even if the mob spawn rate was bottlenecked, the group had still made it to the bottom of the dungeon with just one party. They must have also been in the top 15% of all players. They weren’t that eager to withdraw.

At Matsunaga’s signal, the line of Dual Serpent archers in the back readied their bowguns, with poison-tipped arrows made from Hades Silver.

“Wow, rare arrows!” Amesho cried.

“They’re easily crafted through alchemy, provided you have enough Hades Silver,” Matsunaga spoke, the lightness of his words belying the threat behind them. “They’re ideal for PvP.”

“Itchy, this atmosphere is getting kind of dangerous...” Felicia said nervously.

“I think this is just how conversations go between men of great talent,” Ichiro said. “Of course, it’s all nonsense. What’s the problem, Matsunaga? Set the weapons down.”

“Hmm,” he answered.

With another signal from Matsunaga, the entire ranged squad lowered their weapons. They were like marionettes, all acting in precise unison. If this was also part of their roleplay, it was extremely impressive.

The threat likely wasn’t serious, but Matsunaga’s “joke” had been more to take the wind out of the other party’s sails. They now knew that arguing wouldn’t get them anywhere desirable.

“Um, shouldn’t the first party to arrive have some right to go first?” Felicia asked.

“Yeah, seems like good manners to me,” Amesho agreed.

The early bird got the worm, after all, and respecting the order of arrival was the Japanese way. Anyway, the glory of clearing the quest went to the one who beat the Grand Boss, not the one who activated the event. Felicia couldn’t see what was wrong with letting the first party do it. But Matsunaga just let out a condescending little chuckle.

“Ah, but it’s clear... They’re at a standstill. They don’t know what to do.”

“Matsunaga, the way you laugh is so creepy...” Amesho said.

“Is that a compliment?” Matsunaga turned his serpentine gaze to the advance party, whose members simply shrugged resignedly. It seemed he was right.

All that he had written on his blog and announced on the broadcast was that spellcasters were needed to activate the event. The setting fluff had suggested that they had to seal away a Devil Zombie created by the Necromancer. It was only natural, then, that some top level players might try to put these things together, gather up some spellcasters, and see if they could trigger the event.

To Felicia, though, this just suggested a fundamental nastiness on the part of Matsunaga’s character.

“Well, you probably can’t read the stone monument,” Matsunaga said. “That requires a high-level investigator class. You need a party that can read the stone to trigger the next event flag. Our team is made up of three parties, and each has members that can read the epigraph, so we have no worries in that regard.”

The advance team slumped in disappointment.

“Well, then.” Matsunaga began tossing his dagger — his specialty weapon — playfully in the air as he walked up to the stone monument, the dress of his hide coat flapping about him. “If all of our spellcasters use enchantment-type Arts on the stone, it should trigger the event.”

“Hmm.” Gorgonzola was the first to comply, and the other spellcasters followed his lead to approach the monument.

There was nothing for Felicia to do, so she just lined up beside Ichiro and Amesho to watch the spellcasters form their magic circle.

After quite some time, a flashy light visual began to wreath the monument.

“Ah, the event has triggered,” Matsunaga said.

“It took long enough,” Gorgonzola intoned.

“Good work.” Ichiro plucked a fatigue restorer out of nowhere and handed it to him. It was probably another microtransaction, but Felicia didn’t feel like yelling about it anymore.

The fast-spinning disc of light hovering over the monument began to contract. Then, suddenly, it turned an ominous color. The faint pink light took on points of black and red, then became a torrent of eerie darkness which rushed into the monument all at once. A moment later, the monument began to vibrate.

“Gwahahaha!!!” A voice with an exaggerated reverb effect echoed through the stone chamber.

That escalated quickly, thought Felicia.

“Foolish adventurers, I thank you! Your magic has unleashed the full breadth of my power! The Devil Zombie that was once sealed in Delve will now be unleashed!”

“Wh-Wh-Whaaaaaaaaaaaat?!” Amesho and the lead-off party sounded off in perfect chorus.

Felicia could have sworn she saw someone conducting them.

“Is this the Necromancer that destroyed Delve in the past?” Ichiro asked.

“Likely so,” Gorgonzola nodded.

Oh, yeah, Felicia thought. That was the backstory. Since she wasn’t a hardcore Achiever, she wasn’t that familiar with the details of the Grand Story.

“Adventurers. Allow me to grant you a... reward for your assistance,” the Necromancer’s voice continued.

“Not that I mind, but they’re not even hiding the fact that the explanation on the monument and the story contradict each other, are they?” Matsunaga commented.

“The previous Grand Quests were like that, too,” Gorgonzola agreed.

“True enough. Let’s headcanon that the monument was just a ruse by the Necromancer.”

“Yes, your reward is... eternal death! May you sleep forever in my catacombs, your bodies fodder for my ambitions!” the voice cried, the story proceeding bombastically despite the disinterest of the players watching.

As the shaking in the stone monument died down, fissures began to open in the walls around them. Polys mixed with rubble visuals went flying as a foul stench rose up from all corners. The sound the system sent directly to their brains was like resentment itself, shrieking up from the bowels of hell.

Felicia froze up in fear. The terror she had witnessed in the dungeon two days ago reared its head before her once more.

A Zombie Legion.

The advance party and the bowgun squad, both standing against the wall, readied their weapons with accustomed reflexes, as one would expect from top-ranked players. Ichiro stood in front of the frozen Felicia to protect her.

“Well, I’ve come to expect this from the game by now,” Matsunaga said casually. “Sloppy script-writing, isn’t it?”

“But I do enjoy this kind of thing,” Ichiro answered.

“I suppose the Devil Zombie must be reviving up on the surface right around now,” Matsunaga said unconcernedly. Nevertheless, he readied the dagger in his hand. The other players also prepared their weapons in reaction to the monsters that came pouring out. “Well, we’ve accomplished our goal, so we’re free to do as we like. It’s a good thing we have quite a few recovery items.”

“Nonsense,” Ichiro responded as he bought a Monetary Blade from the config menu. “Matsunaga, the Grand Quest is not over yet, and I have not yet achieved my objective. This may be a fine warm-up, but the true challenge still awaits me.”

Ah, I knew it, thought Felicia as she heard Ichiro’s calm words.

She knew why he had intentionally followed Matsunaga’s plan and gone underground. In the end, it was something so simple.

“Not that I haven’t been already,” Ichiro murmured as he readied the Monetary Blade to face the zombie horde, “but I’m going to do what I want.”

Meanwhile, what was transpiring up on the surface could be thought of as the Grand Quest’s “main course.”

The United Guild’s underground team had completed their mission on schedule, causing the Grand Boss to spawn above-ground. It was time for the surface division to rally to face it. The hand-picked participants in this part of the mission — consisting primarily of Red Sunset Knights — charged boldly into battle, soon to seize the glory of triumph over the boss.

Or so it should have been.

Stroganoff fell to a knee, supporting himself with his magic sword. His body was badly beaten, his HP gauge was down 30%. Squad commanders Gazpacho and Parmigiano had fallen, and Tiramisu was hanging on by a thread. She was known for having the highest defense stats out of all the Knights, but she had been forced to focus on protecting the others, and the strain of it was starting to show plainly in her face.

“Guoooooaaaaah!”

It was an unworldly noise. While it couldn’t possibly be causing the air around them to vibrate, the players felt it throughout their bodies as if it really was a physical force.

It was more than just a feeling, though. This was the monster-exclusive Art, “Terror Howl.” The howl, which seemed to ring out all across the Necrolands, inflicted the merciless debuff “Terror” on all players whose stats were below a certain threshold.

The eyes, blazing red...

The gaping maw, slit from ear to ear...

The dripping skin, glistening eerily from head to toe...

White fur covered its head and ran down its neck and along its back. The skin below was a deep purple, marked here and there with visible, pulsating veins. Its head contained two horns that proudly asserted themselves skyward, but what drew the eye most of all was its four unnaturally enlarged, muscular arms.

“Damnation! What were the devs thinking?” Stroganoff swore hoarsely, and all other players present seemed to be in agreement.

The Grand Boss — the Devil Zombie — was proving more powerful than they could ever have imagined. Each swing of its four arms sent the vanguard of tanker Knights scattering like confetti in the wind. Gazpacho, who had been meant to serve as a shield for the Knights alongside Tiramisu, had been no exception.

“Tiramisu, get back,” Stroganoff ordered. “We need your health back at max before that next four-hit combo. Spellcaster support squad, switch your auto-cast to defense buffs.”

“Y-Yes, sir,” they all said.

If they fell here, after all their boasting, the proud Knights would become a laughingstock. They had to seize victory at any cost.

Although the surface team was made up primarily of Knights, having had part of their core team diverted underground had been a crippling blow. They had been joined by other top players in exchange, but it was hard to coordinate with someone whose playstyle you weren’t familiar with.

Suddenly, Stroganoff heard a scream from Tiramisu, whom he’d sent to the back lines. He turned to see it — a grotesque display of corpses piled one on top of each other. A Zombie Legion, that fighting objet d’arte created by the Necromancer.

Stroganoff cursed again. He had always known that other mobs might spawn in the vicinity the Grand Boss. He had faced cruel stage setups that implied a solo Grand Boss until a sudden rush of mobs assailed the party from behind. But no matter how bad it got, they’d always been able to deal with it.

Until this time...

It was a raid boss so powerful, it could cut through their front lines in seconds, backed up by multiple Zombie Legions and waves of Skeleton Chariots. It was excessive, by any stretch of the imagination. Stroganoff rarely complained about the development team, but even he couldn’t restrain his resentment in this situation.

“You must withdraw, Tiramisu!” The voice that roused the rattled warrior came from the hero rumored to have never logged out since the service began: the High Elf Philosopher, Tomakomai. The delicate features behind thin-rimmed spectacles contorted in disgust as he looked up at the towering Zombie Legions.

“Mr. Tomakomai...” Tiramisu began.

“I have no other choice,” he answered. “It seems I must unleash my hidden power.”

“H-Huh?”

He threw his glasses — the symbol of his intelligence — to the ground, and charged singlehandedly at a Zombie Legion.

“Screeeeeeee!”

With a screech utterly unbecoming of a Philosopher, he unleashed a flurry of flying kicks. Surprisingly, the damage was enough to cause the Zombie Legion’s enormous body to tremble. But a second Zombie Legion slapped the airborne Tomakomai back to earth.

“Gwaaagh!” Tomakomai’s willowy body struck the ground of the Delve Necrolands. What he had been trying to accomplish no one could say, but the hero who had never logged out since the service had begun now fell silent.

Stroganoff had been able to watch it all go down, but he couldn’t turn to aid Tiramisu. Dealing with the charging Devil Zombie in front of him took everything he had.

Tiramisu valiantly drew her Celestial Sword, and with the determined gaze that had earned her the name “Saint,” she stared down the Zombie Legion.

But, no... It was not possible.

She and the few party members who remained on the back lines were not enough to face down the horde. And if Tiramisu fell, there would be no way left to stave off the Devil Zombie’s attacks.

It’s hopeless, Stroganoff thought. But just as that thought entered his mind, a sudden gust of black wind pierced through her target.

There was no fanfare, just a sudden impact shock, as if the monster had been struck by a thunderbolt from heaven. The intruder dug into his target, tearing through flesh until its HP bar reached zero, then hit the ground like a bullet. The rubble and dust cloud effect kicked up by his landing concealed, for the moment, the shadow’s identity. But then the Zombie Legion he had eviscerated let out a moan, and slowly began to topple.

The dust cleared. A black coat fluttered in the wind.

With unadorned straight blade in hand, a young man with childlike features glared at the large horde of the undead.

“That’s...”

Someone called his name. “King Kirihito!”

“I see King has arrived,” Matsunaga said, opening up an app in his menu window.

Felicia looked up from where she was crouched in the corner.

The battle below ground had been settled with surprising speed. Ichiro, of course, had brought the full force of his abilities to bear, but Amesho had been stronger than expected, as well. Gorgonzola had contributed a great deal, and the party that had arrived before them had also given it their all. Of course, Matsunaga’s dagger and the bowguns of his archer squadron had proved quite useful, as well.

When asked about the secret of her power, Amesho had merely said, “Connections!” One assumed she was referring to the rare items equipped to every part of her body.

Ichiro was unaware of it, but the dagger she carried was part of a class of legendary weapons of which only seven existed in the game, and a bloody PK battle had raged around their acquisition. When asked how she’d gotten it, she’d merely replied, “From a friend,” which had stunned Matsunaga and Gorgonzola beyond the use of words.

“Oh?”

“Let me see...”

Amesho and Ichiro peered over Matsunaga’s shoulder at the application he was using. It appeared to be video capture software that also let the user watch video taken by someone else in the game in real-time. At the center of the screen was King, glaring at a Zombie Legion as it fell in a cloud of dust.

Ichiro looked around for Felicia and saw that she had quietly crept forward to watch the video, as well.

“What effective staging! Though I’m sure he didn’t intend it. He likely meant to arrive on time, but then the event triggered just a little bit early...” Matsunaga said happily, then opened up his text editor.

Perhaps he was already thinking up his next blog article.

“You have my thanks, Mr. Tsuwabuki.” The relief in Matsunaga’s voice was palpable. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but you were very cooperative. Thanks to you, I’ve safely accomplished my goal.”

“Ah, yes. But I haven’t actually accomplished mine yet,” Ichiro pronounced offhandedly.

Matsunaga’s moving fingers stopped. “Mr. Tsuwabuki... Do you...” His manner changed, a menacing glint appearing in his eye. Perhaps recognizing the malice in his voice, the bowgun squadron pointed their weapons at Ichiro.

“I came underground because I thought I might find King here,” Ichiro explained. “It was the first place I met him, after all. We left a bit of business unfinished, you see...”

Ichiro spoke the words with his usual indifference, but Matsunaga easily grasped the intent underlying them.

Ichiro didn’t care what else was going on. He was going to try to settle things with King Kirihito now. It was the exact development that Matsunaga had needed to avoid at all cost.

“Ooo, is this a fight?” Amesho enthused, while Gorgonzola gravely intoned, “It’s not good to fight.” Felicia’s brow remained furrowed.

“Mr. Tsuwabuki, no matter how quickly you go, it will take an hour... no, two hours, to reach the surface,” Matsunaga said. “King and the remaining Knights will have more than enough time to defeat the Grand Boss. I’m afraid you’re out of luck.”

“Nonsense.” Ichiro brushed aside Matsunaga’s attempt to persuade him. “I make my own luck. And Matsunaga, you said it yourself. The entire dungeon is a single map.”

“I did say that. What of it?”

With one hand in his pocket, Ichiro began walking around the stone room. The bowguns tracked his every move.

In a split second, Ichiro removed the hand from his pocket and thrust it at the ceiling. The magic power that Ichiro had been storing up with “Charge Cast” suddenly burst out of his body. It focused in the space just before his fist, formed into the shape of a dragon, and took flight.

It was the water attribute attack Art, “Dragon Rise Wave.” A strike that mimicked the rising dragon that sang of victory over the mountains of the gods. A torrent of magic energy that could reverse the flow of a waterfall. And combined with Break Object raised to an absurdly high level, it broke a hole in the ceiling of the dungeon. Ichiro had secured a direct escape route.

“Unbelievable.” Gorgonzola stared, dumfounded, while Amesho grinned and squealed.

Matsunaga showed no reaction. Perhaps he had expected this, after all. As a Dragonet, it was natural to assume that Ichiro would have mastered the flight ability that would be needed to use the escape route.

“I see I was right to bring insurance along.” Matsunaga snapped his fingers, and the flagstones in the stone room suddenly flew upwards.

Multiple players wearing horned Noh masks and ninja outfits leaped out and grabbed Felicia from where she stood. Not even Ichiro could react effectively against a surprise attack from an unexpected direction. Felicia neither screamed nor struggled as she was held in place, a small knife pointed at her neck.

“The Dual Serpent Shinobi Corps! So they really do exist!” Gorgonzola exclaimed.

“Matsunaga, that’s a dirty trick, ya know...” Amesho growled.

I thought that might be why he invited Felicia, Ichiro thought. That much was within the realm of his expectations, but what was really surprising was the fact that Felicia was so calm about it.

“Now, far be it for me to invoke a cliché, but... stay right where you are, Mr. Tsuwabuki. It would be very easy to pierce Miss Felicia’s throat.”

“It’s only a game.” Ichiro’s cool demeanor turned a few degrees chillier.

“You’re awfully cold-blooded, aren’t you?” Matsunaga asked.

“As I never bleed, I could not say. That aside, Matsunaga... I believe Felicia came with us with the full knowledge that something like this would happen.”

The restrained Felicia raised her face at Ichiro’s statement. He could see no fear in her expression.

It was clear enough that Felicia did not want Ichiro to fight King Kirihito. In other words, she was in agreement with Matsunaga — which might have been all the more reason why she had knowingly come along. The possibility that Felicia might go through with this was not part of what Ichiro himself had considered, so it took him aback slightly.