55th Floor, Granzam, the Steel City.
He had intended to avoid this floor unless absolutely necessary. It was rich in iron ore, and everything about it, from the cityscape to the monsters, carried a heavy metallic presence. It was also the stronghold of the Knights of the Blood. After that tedious duel with the wielder of the Holy Sword in the arena not long ago, Satoru could hardly claim to have any fondness for the place.
The building they had rented at great expense had been completely renovated. Flags marked with bold English initials could be seen everywhere. Crimson red dominated the interior, while the pure white walls seemed to glow beneath the sunlight pouring through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows.
There were few decorative furnishings, only full suits of armor that no one wore. Lined up along the corridors, they gave the impression of invisible sentinels standing guard. The Steel City, knightly armor, and the Knights of the Blood. The combination fit almost too well.
Satoru sat quietly in the spacious, empty reception room. In front of him was a simple square wooden table, with a cup of black tea that had been served earlier. More than ten minutes had passed, and the tea was gradually entering its cooldown phase. If left untouched for too long, it would lose its durability and shatter.
Once the rising steam had faded, the only thing still lingering in the room was the smoke from the cigarette in his hand. He was still wearing the same dusty hooded tunic, with no equipment or weapons on him. He looked like a destitute wandering adventurer, the sort of figure that would have suited the shade beneath an old tree in the wilderness.
But seated on the deep red plush sofa, his entire body exposed to the harsh white light pouring in from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind him, he clashed starkly with the simple yet imposing surroundings.
He seemed aware of it himself, because he remained silent, smoking one cigarette after another.
A while later, the tightly shut door finally opened. A man who fit perfectly into the room's atmosphere entered with quiet steps. Through the open doorway, Satoru could hear a faint commotion outside, but once Heathcliff closed the door, only silence remained.
"The frontliners from the Assault Team are all here, aren't they? As expected of the Guild Leader of the Knights of the Blood."
Satoru lifted his eyes and, almost unconsciously, flicked ash onto the table right in front of his host.
"It's simply everyone's goodwill."
The Guild Leader smiled faintly as he walked over and sat across from him, glancing at the untouched, cold tea on the table.
"Do you dislike black tea?"
"I'm not thirsty."
"What a shame. I'm quite confident in its flavor. After all, it was made by the Vice Commander, whose Cooking Skill is maxed out."
Heathcliff kept his courteous smile as he tapped the tea a few times, causing it to dissolve into scattered data fragments.
"I heard that in the early days, you personally recruited every member of the Knights of the Blood. Even now, you still follow an elite strategy, and the Guild has only just over thirty members. You really do go to great lengths."
"Indeed. That's why I once invited you as well, only to be firmly rejected. To be honest, since the Knights of the Blood grew to its current size, you're the first player I've met who left no room for negotiation."
Heathcliff sat up straight.
"So, you really do have some dissatisfaction with me?"
"Don't worry. Being dissatisfied is one thing. Sabotaging you is another. After all, the burden of clearing the game still rests on you, that tireless fellow. I do understand the bigger picture."
"But the other day, you very forcefully poached one of our Guild's top players." Heathcliff shook his head. "Sheeta-san is perfect in both ability and image."
"Isn't having the Flash already enough publicity?"
"As Guild Leader, of course I want every powerful player gathered here. It's a perfectly honest ambition."
"Hmph."
Satoru took a drag from his cigarette and stared at him.
"Don't trip yourself up over something trivial."
"Is that advice from the former Vice Commander of the Divine Dragons Alliance?"
"It's rare to hear you mock someone."
Satoru smiled at those words.
"After all, it feels as though something similar is about to happen."
Heathcliff paused, then spoke in his usual calm tone.
"A few days ago, a Guild devoted to sightseeing in Aincrad was ambushed and wiped out by an Orange Guild. A few survivors managed to teleport to the upper floors and spread the grim news."
Satoru had already heard about it, so he was not surprised. In fact, it was precisely why he had returned to the Guild headquarters.
"The Orange Guild is called Laughing Coffin. No, to be precise, it is a red-named Guild. Aside from a few pseudo-Green members who remain in town to supply the red players who cannot enter, the rest are all criminals."
"Some of its members have ties to you as well. I suppose I don't need to explain further."
Heathcliff looked at him and spoke calmly.
"After all, it seems you've been searching for them ever since the 36th Floor."
"You know quite a lot," Satoru replied evenly.
"The Knights of the Blood have extensive information sources. This time, we have even pinpointed the exact location of Laughing Coffin's field base."
"That's quite an accomplishment," Satoru said. "So the Guild Leader has already made a decision. How did the discussion go with the invited frontliners earlier?"
"My intention was to launch a direct assault, lock them all up in the Black Iron Palace, and have the Aincrad Liberation Squad from the lower floors guard them. But I ran into a wall when forming the assault team."
Heathcliff made no attempt to hide it.
"Everyone was willing to participate, but no one wanted to take the vanguard."
"They're a Red Player Guild, after all. It's only natural to be wary. In a situation like this, you won't win the team's respect unless you lead by example."
Satoru gave a strained smile.
"You're right. It seems the Knights of the Blood will have to serve as the main force after all."
"Oh? You're not shirking responsibility at all?"
"Someone has to do it."
Satoru gave a low snort.
"So, what do you want from me? I left the front lines long ago, and I was already rude enough to visit you the other day. There's no need for the great Guild Leader himself to make time for me after all that work."
"The people who came this time are from the Newborn Divine Dragons Alliance. Please forgive me for using the word Newborn," Heathcliff said. "I'm not so insensitive as to have the former Vice Commander meet them. And as someone who directly clashed with those people on the 36th Floor, I believe your information is highly valuable."
"I trust you won't be stingy, Yurnero-san."
Heathcliff smiled.
"You're someone who understands the situation."
"This really is a losing deal. I've been searching for them for a long time."
"That is precisely why you won't refuse. Hasn't the chance for revenge that you've been waiting for finally arrived?"
It really isn't as fair and orderly as it appears, Satoru thought as he closed his eyes.
"Apart from a few individuals, the rest are nothing more than low-level operatives. In terms of strength, they're no match for the frontliners. If anything sets them apart from you, it's no more than a cheap lack of shame, the willingness to abandon their moral compass. As long as the frontliners bring a reliable lineup, there will be no problem detaining them. You could even wipe them out completely."
Heathcliff appeared to be listening intently, and Satoru frowned.
"That's all I have to say. This is a game where strength is determined by numbers. For you people, who spend day and night leveling up and upgrading your equipment, dealing with them is just a matter of unleashing a few Sword Skills. To be honest, if the frontliners had acted sooner, they never would have been able to establish a foothold in the first place."
"Even if there were the occasional exception..."
Satoru stopped mid-sentence.
"The occasional exception?"
"Nothing. That occasional exception no longer exists."
With his back to the floor-to-ceiling window, Satoru's face was completely hidden in shadow.
"Is that so? Though it was only a few words, you have certainly boosted my confidence."
Looking at him, Heathcliff's lips curved into a faint smile.
"But I'll still give you one piece of advice," Satoru said. "It would be best to approach this with the mindset of exterminating them, rather than the complacent attitude of merely defeating them and locking them in the Black Iron Palace."
"Oh?"
"Treat them all as monsters. Monsters you would feel no regret about killing."
"But they are living, breathing human beings."
"But that is exactly how they see you," Satoru whispered. "Unfortunately, that very fact may become the key that lets them bridge the enormous power gap between you."
No, it doesn't matter.
Once your HP bar enters the danger zone, you'll instinctively fight back against the enemy in front of you with everything you have.
Right and wrong become meaningless.
Survival is a human instinct, after all.
"As I mentioned earlier, this expedition will be led by the Knights of the Blood. Naturally, we will dispatch our elite forces, and with the addition of frontliners from other raid groups, we should be able to assemble a team of at least thirty people. The expedition is scheduled for a few days from now. The sooner we deal with this, the better. So..."
Heathcliff folded his arms and looked Satoru straight in the eye.
"Yurnero-san, would you like to join us?"
"...That was your real motive, wasn't it?"
Satoru met his gaze.
"You have history with them, and you understand them. Moreover, as someone who has mastered five or more weapon types, you can handle any opponent with ease. You are unquestionably one of the people who should participate in this expedition."
Satoru suddenly stood, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
"What's wrong? Do you not want to?" Heathcliff asked, somewhat puzzled by his reaction.
"No. Of course I'll participate. But I won't be joining you. I have my own way of doing things."
Satoru brushed past him and walked to the door, slowly reaching out to open it.
With his back to Heathcliff, golden embers burned deep in his eyes.
"I hope we never cross paths again after this."
He forced his voice down to a whisper.