Ichiro’s cool gaze met that of King Kirihito. Their interest was mutual.

A new murmur rose up from the crowd, this one different from the previous.

“Isn’t he... you know.... the one Matsunaga blogged about...”

“The one who handled a dungeon solo...”

“Is he gonna fight King?”

“No way...”

But did he even care about those whispers? In that moment, to Ichiro Tsuwabuki, surely nothing else in the world had any meaning.

Nothing but the man who stood before him.

It was a difficult mindset for the average person to grasp. No sooner did the thought pass through his mind than Stroganoff realized that he was lumping himself in with the average person. Even that terrible Grand Boss and the glories to be earned from defeating it — to those two, it had held no more value than a pebble on the side of the road. It had been completely meaningless.

What was it, then, that had value?

That was simple: the knowledge that they were strong.

Stroganoff had thought he understood that concept before, but these two were on a different level.

He remembered those words Matsunaga had once said to him... and what had come next.

Hey, Stroganoff. The people’s perception of strength is absolute.

You can’t fight the hierarchy once it’s set. It’s decisive.

But in the end, it’s a fool’s game, because the question of who is strongest can be overturned at the slightest whim.

The only way to win is to take yourself out of the running.

That was the truth. But did those two agree? Those two, glaring at each other, showed no sign of belief in that commonsense principle. They both believed without a shadow of doubt that they were the strongest, and it was likely that all the onlookers believed the same thing. And after the display of potency that they had just shown, there could be no doubt that these were the strongest players in this game.

But the two of them could not be satisfied with that. Being judged “strongest” by others meant nothing to them. The only standard that had absolute meaning was their own belief that they were strong.

For both of them, no matter how others around might praise them, there was another man whose strength was comparable. The question in their mind — “which of us is stronger?” — could not be dismissed. The mere existence of that question was anathema to them. It was the height of hubris.

But this battle would put an end to all of that. It would establish their hierarchy. It would be decisive. One of them would stop being “the strongest.” If they did not challenge each other, if they did not fight, then both could remain the strongest.

That was something that Stroganoff couldn’t understand, but that lack of understanding itself was part of the reason he felt so outmatched.

The Dragonet Magi-Fencer and the Human Fighter — each readied their weapon and glared at the other. Each of them had drawn what seemed like the obvious conclusion in their mind.

But in the end, one of those two conclusions was false.

“Um...” King Kirihito — Sera Kiryu — scratched his head. He hadn’t been expecting to run into Asuha Tsuwabuki here. Rather than feeling awkward or embarrassed, he mostly felt bewildered.

“Tsuwabuki...” King Kirihito began.

“You don’t want me,” Asuha said. Asuha Tsuwabuki... Felicia... seemed unsteady on her feet — perhaps she had taken damage to her inner ears — and she found herself speaking frankly to Sera-Kirihito. “I’m not the one you should be saying hello to right now, Kiryu.”

She pointed to the Dragonet boy, who raised one hand, as if waiting to be introduced.

Yes, of course...

King Kirihito fixed his eyes on the laid-back man standing in front of him and simply nodded. He wanted to finish things, too.

“Hey, old man,” King Kirihito greeted him, with a bit of a bashful grin.

“Hey, King,” Ichiro responded, with his usual cool smile.

Those were the only words they exchanged. But with that alone, each seemed to understand everything, and they took their stances. King Kirihito with his trusty straight blade, Ichiro with his bare fists.

While the outsiders remained bewildered, the understanding between the two was complete.

Ichiro Tsuwabuki, Asuha’s second cousin. He was an incredible person in real life... someone to whom Sera could not compare.

But here the game, Sera was his equal. If King Kirihito could push Ichiro Tsuwabuki aside, Sera’s superiority would be confirmed. And then that strength would become Sera’s own.

Loss was unacceptable.

King Kirihito tightened his grip on his beloved sword.

Sera had never once come into a fight with the slightest thought as to the possibility of losing — at least, when it came to a video game. Sera had always been called a natural talent, an eternal victor... and had always believed it wholeheartedly. The man standing before Sera now was, for the first time, shaking the very foundations of that belief.

This wasn’t about winning. It was about not losing. And it was the first time King Kirihito had ever felt that way.

“Oh, yeah,” King said, as if suddenly remembering something.

The atmosphere, so thick you could cut it with a knife, was instead cut through by King’s voice. He opened his item inventory from the menu window and selected several items. It produced several bottles about ten centimeters long, which he threw over to Ichiro.

Fatigue restorers.

“Paying you back for the ones I used in the dungeon,” King said.

“Ah, you didn’t need to pay me back...” Still, in the interest of politeness, Ichiro stashed them in his inventory.

“I don’t care what you think, old man,” King shot back. “I’m paying you back because I want to.”

“I see,” Ichiro said.

In the world of the game, victory was the sole determiner of righteousness. For that righteousness to mean anything, the conditions had to be fair. They were the words of the person who had taught Sera Kiryu how to play.

“Hey, old man.” King Kirihito voiced the one question he wanted to ask before crossing swords with this man.

“Yes?”

“Has Tsuwabuki told you about my real-life situation?” King demanded.

“Yes.”

So he knew. King experienced a momentary wave of awkwardness.

No matter how strong Sera was in the game, Ichiro was by far the superior in real life. That was something Sera would have preferred to keep locked away...

But those thoughts were all dissipated by Ichiro’s next words.

“Shall we finish this?”

In that moment, Sera Kiryu knew.

Right now, to this man, my real-world circumstances mean nothing. There will be neither mercy nor contempt nor ridicule from him. All there will be is admiration... for the strength of King Kirihito.

In that moment, Sera Kiryu disappeared inside of King Kirihito; it would not be inaccurate to say that they had merged into one. Sera was wielding King Kirihito’s strength as naturally as could be. And that made one other thing certain...

I can win.

It’s not that I want to win. It’s not that I don’t want to lose.

I can win.

“Okay. Let’s do it,” King said.

A gust of wind blew by, carrying with it visuals of swirling sand and miasma. They could not simply glare at each other forever; the pressure balance between them would break with the drop of a pin.

The actual catalyst was the sound of Felicia getting out of the way. The moment they both realized she was just far enough away not to get drawn into it... that was the signal to start the battle.

The two of them suddenly launched across the field, as if propelled by springs.

Definitely a strong opponent, Ichiro thought.

Kirihito unleashed Bash attacks with a wide variety of speeds, impact times, and waits on cooldown time. He combined stances and derivative actions so skillfully that the one Art used over and over again came off as complicated swordplay.

If Ichiro tried to counter with Strash, the winner would simply be the one whose command landed first... and by a matter of milliseconds.

The various tricks one could use in the real world to shave down that timing were impossible in this inflexible system, making this less of a duel with swords, and more of a game of high-level rock-paper-scissors.

Ichiro clenched his open hand into a fist and decisively executed a Weapon Guard with his bare hands. Even with the bonuses granted by Dragon Claw, he was not yet strong enough to fully block a hit from King’s sword. But he couldn’t afford to take the direct hit, either.

While blocking the sword, he executed a Strash with his open hand.

There was a flash. But King’s instincts were perfect when it came to timing the moment a hit would land. He flew away in that instant, escaping the attack. Space opened up between the two of them once more.

Ichiro wouldn’t be able to land a hit that easily.

He would have to change his strategy.

King was trying to maintain an ideal distance, so it was clear he wouldn’t charge in right away. That gave Ichiro time to open and manipulate his menu window. He went from config to the microtransactions screen and selected the icon he’d tapped enough times before to leave fingerprints on it.

He took the Monetary Blade Arondight in his hand. Having fought with him in the dungeon once before, King Kirihito likely knew how he would use it. The onlookers didn’t, and began whispering among themselves at the sight of it. An interesting but irrelevant reaction, as far as Ichiro was concerned.

“That kinda thing’s in bad taste, old man,” Kirihito called.

“Nonsense!” Ichiro responded.

For the umpteenth time, a bit of light banter transitioned directly into another wild clash. Ichiro hefted the Monetary Blade and activated Breaker, but Kirihito countered with Bash once more.

Weapon Guard would have been a safer strategy, but his choice showed he was focused on remaining on the offense — he wedged himself in the very instant before the hit landed and cut off Breaker’s activation.

The Monetary Blade Arondight didn’t break, thanks to its high Durability, but the damage went through Ichiro’s arm and appeared as a number above his head.

Yet Arondight did not break, and King’s cooldown time, short as it was, gave him an opening. Ichiro twisted his body and performed Spiral Blaze.

At this close range, Kirihito’s response did not come in time.

The swirl of hellfire hit the moment it was fired. If one couldn’t dodge in time, there was no choice but to take the direct damage. And so, King Kirihito took it.

A noise of awe rose up from the crowd.

Finally, a first hit.

This was quite a grueling battle. Ichiro had never thought the day would come when he’d have to put such analysis into a situation. He found the corners of his mouth turning upward.

The game was a fictional environment. It had nothing at all in common with reality; it was a mere illusion conjured up by the signals beamed to the brain. A tiny world that existed only within servers and databases.

But... so what? Every person Ichiro had met in this fictional world had been stimulating. And the most stimulating of them all was now before him, holding a sword.

Even if everything around him was all just a string of ones and zeroes, there was a real human on the other end creating it and manipulating it, and that person was currently fighting on his level. That was one thing he couldn’t call nonsense.

Had he ever burned for victory this way? Whatever it took for him to win here, Ichiro Tsuwabuki would seize it, without hesitation.

“What’re you smiling about, old man?” Kirihito asked.

“The same thing you are, I think!” Ichiro called back.

The knowledge that he was the strongest, the coolest. He had never once lacked it. Having someone to challenge that belief with all their power felt... No, even trying to put it into words was nonsense. It cheapened the feeling.

In the fight up until now, Ichiro had been formulating a hypothesis. Kirihito’s prowess came from his consistent reflexes, and if Ichiro could find a way to bridge that gap between them, he could crush him.

He didn’t have the time to test that theory, though — he would just need to judge the right moment and put it into action.

This time, he didn’t ready his weapon. He prepared to launch into a magic battle.

“Ah, there they go...” Felicia murmured.

“You sound disappointed,” said the leader of The Kirihitters, Kirihito (Leader), who had appeared beside her at some point.

“Yeah... I didn’t want them to do this, because one of them has to lose...”

“I see. You’re an IRL friend of King, aren’t you, Miss Felicia?” Kirihito (Leader) nodded knowingly as he remembered what had happened in the dungeon the other day. “It can be quite awkward to run into an IRL acquaintance in-game. In an earlier MMO I played, I once hit on a female player who turned out to be my mother...”

“Leader, no one wants to hear that story. Really,” another Kirihito said.

“G-Good point.”

The level-headed Kirihito’s advice spared Felicia from listening to any more of Kirihito (Leader)’s tragic tale.

Kirihito (Leader) wasn’t the only one who had arrived to watch the fight between Ichiro and King. A large crowd had begun to form, including the Knights who had been defeated in the prior battle, respawning sans their lost equipment.

“Tsuwabuki’s quite something. He even landed a hit on King...”

“But the odds are still about 60-40 in King’s favor...”

“How’s he gonna come back from this? Let’s watch!”

“You think he’ll get even better during this battle?”

The educated-sounding remarks came from the Knights, led by Stroganoff, who watched with folded arms. They had fully embraced their role as spectators, and seemed to enjoy the roleplay of commentating, though they didn’t actually offer up even a bit of useful analysis.

They simply said things like, “Ah, that’s...” and, “Yes, of course...” and, “Impressive as always,” now and then, while the others nodded along as if they understood.

Perhaps the air of dignity exuded by these powerful characters was gift enough to the watching audience.

Whenever they were asked about which player was at a disadvantage, the answer was always, “Tsuwabuki. Tsuwabuki.” In the pool that was going on behind them, the odds were slightly in King Kirihito’s favor, as well.

Yes, King was fighting well. With bated breath, Felicia watched the scene unfold.

King Kirihito dodged between Ichiro’s magic blasts to unleash a Bash attack. Ichiro didn’t draw his weapon, but executed a bare-handed Weapon Guard instantly. After the damage calculation was finished, a three-digit number popped up over his head, and his health gauge went down again.

But Ichiro didn’t have a moment’s peace before a second and third Bash assailed him. King’s trusty sword offered a high bonus to his ATK, and the direct damage it dealt was considerable.

Ichiro quit using Weapon Guard as a defense and began to focus on dodging the relentless strikes. While dodging, he opened his inventory and equipped his Monetary Blade once more, intending to turn the tables.

Felicia didn’t know this, but Ichiro was planning to strike the instant after the hit from Bash completed. In other words, stealing King Kirihito’s trick.

As Kirihito turned over his sword and executed a fourth Bash, Ichiro instantly unleashed his Breaker. The slice gouged deep into King’s side.

That was a second hit.

The effect of the Dragonet-exclusive skill “Blowback” sent King Kirihito tumbling along the ground.

Felicia gasped.

Kirihito (Leader) looked at her sidelong and sighed. “Miss Felicia, I believe there is nothing to worry about.”

“Um... because King will win?”

“No.”

The other six Kirihitos nodded in agreement with their leader.

“You’re worried that King will lose and lose all his confidence, aren’t you?” Kirihito (Leader) asked.

“Yeah...”

It was true. Felicia knew the weakness behind King’s facade. She knew his fight with Ichiro here was just a way for Sera to become stronger. If King lost this badly in a public place, her friend might never recover again. This would be Sera’s last battlefield.

Why, then, did Kirihito (Leader) insist that there was nothing to worry about?

“Well, look at them, Miss Felicia. Both King and Mr. Tsuwabuki are enjoying themselves.”