The iron-blue rapier pierced the air.
Beneath a night sky bright as an overturned galaxy, above a desert covered in moon-sand, even the silent wind spreading around the two of them seemed to take on the color of flame. Sword skills, swift beyond anything that should exist in this world, bloomed again and again with a cold, clear brilliance.
Route.
Speed.
Reaction correction.
Even in the old Aincrad, it would have been hard to find a rapier user better than him. This was a skill honed into his spirit and bones through nothing but long, monotonous time. There was no special emotion coming from that narrow blade, either. Only an open willingness to lay out every bit of strength he possessed.
Or perhaps it no longer mattered whether these were sword skills or not.
For him, the many forms of the rapier had already been melted into instinct.
What he used now was a sword skill called Shouichi Shinkawa.
Without seeing it, those trajectories would be almost impossible to read, almost impossible to dodge, almost impossible to block. Even so, Satoru parried every one of them.
Instinct was enough.
Yurnero had once trained five different weapon categories at the same time in order to raise the Unique Skill Infinite Sword to a higher level and draw out the advantage of wielding multiple weapon types.
Perhaps it could not compare to the tortured training Shinkawa had endured in the lightless prison of the Black Iron Palace, but Satoru, too, had been alone.
He had walked the Labyrinth Areas by himself, day and night, fighting beasts that truly threatened his life.
When he thought about it carefully, maybe that was the thing he had truly gained by piling up his own time. It was not like the Fluctlight, which felt closer to something granted to him.
Those countless sword skill names, their effects, their power, and all the possible ways they could be combined. Those were the things he had expanded with his own hands.
They were his sword skills as Satoru.
For a player with nothing extra to rely on, the only thing he could offer was time. What that time finally produced was this.
The sword skill of an ordinary man, bought with years and days.
This was what remained of you and me as orphans of that world. The ash left behind by Yurnero and XaXa.
"From the day we met, we have always repeated this same thing in one virtual world after another. Challenging and being challenged!" Shinkawa's rapier was still faster than Satoru's body under those plain black eyes. Without the slightest pause, he unleashed one dazzling thrust after another, shouting as if remembering the past.
"Yeah. We really have."
Satoru had once memorized the rapier's techniques as well. He was predicting Shinkawa's attacks entirely from his memories of the past, and each time, his judgment was correct.
"Looking back, it was nothing more than two friendless, game-addicted kids who did not even know where to go when they left the house. We kept changing games, and every time before we moved on, it ended with one last duel inside the game!"
"It was childish as hell! But now that we are here, it somehow feels like destiny! It is like an adult looking back at the embarrassing dark history of his stupid years!"
"Doesn't that fit perfectly with two people who chased a dead end until they got stuck there?!"
"You're right!"
"You're... right!"
"Haha... hahahaha!"
"But Yurnero and XaXa never settled who won! That world may be gone, but right here, let us finish the regret it left behind!"
As their voices suddenly flared, rapier and curved blade crashed fiercely together.
No character stats.
No equipment levels.
Only one thing mattered.
Sword skills.
There were no restrictions, no activation checks, no stun, not even extra effects like forced movement. Even so, the two of them kept recreating one skill after another from the past with astonishing precision. They even forced their avatars to suffer the negative recovery delay, making themselves slow for that second or two.
By force.
They were forcing Death Gun and Samuro to become Yurnero and XaXa.
The crisp clang of metal against metal rang out with an almost rhythmic cadence, replacing the explosive roar of gunfire.
At the same time, the two swept the hems and cloak-tails behind them and, like falcons stooping into formation, kicked up the silver-gray sand beneath the night. In an instant, the light and shadow of blades filled the space before them.
Quadruple Pain Strike. Counter. Crescent Moon Impact.
Mountain-Moon Crossing. Counter. Linear Pierce.
Butterfly-Wing Quivering Thrust. Counter. Stormwind Return Slash.
The one attacking in one second would be countered in the next. The moonlight grew thicker, the night deeper, and the stars and falling fragments of sky burned brighter as they tore downward.
More and more floating broadcast cameras slowly gathered from distant rivers, forests, and ruined steel cities. They drifted toward this final battlefield, toward this final duel so unlike the world of gunfire, their blinking red lights circling the two people writing out a battle of blade analysis.
Satoru's simple black eyes darkened. He knocked aside the incoming rapier and used his wrist to drive the metal katana through the air. This was not the demonic sword of another world, yet when he remembered and released those sword skills, what he held might as well have been the blade from an ancient scroll.
Formation against formation. Technique against technique. If they wished, it felt as though they could keep fighting forever.
But do not forget.
Yurnero had never been limited to a mere curved blade.
The bright metal katana suddenly pointed forward, violating the clean slashing openings he had shown until now.
For an instant, even Shinkawa could not tell what sword skill it was. Even if he had been given time, he still could not have known, because he had never seen it before.
A straight thrust like a rapier, then an upward cut like a curved sword, followed by a three-stage rotating arc that locked off his escape.
Infinite Sword. Severing Blade system. High-rank sword skill: Azure-Rising Abyss.
"Ngh!"
Virtual red blood splashed from Shinkawa's chest. Satoru stepped in further.
The metal katana rose high overhead, then fell in a heavy, open chop like a bamboo-splitting strike.
Infinite Sword. Severing Blade system. Mid-rank sword skill: Evening Rise, Sunfall.
The katana had only just returned when he turned sideways and thrust the thin blade out level. Even in Shinkawa's eyes, it was an extremely standard rapier posture. Head, chest, abdomen. After Evening Rise, Sunfall, he added a three-hit vertical lightning combo that struck high, middle, and low.
Infinite Sword. Severing Blade system. Mid-rank sword skill: Scorching Sun.
Relying only on memory and the feel of his limbs, he had recreated a Unique Skill that had already vanished.
"Beautiful!"
Shinkawa spoke in a low voice after taking blow after blow. There was even joy in his tone.
"So this is... the Unique Skill you used to defeat Didos and Kayaba!"
"I never beat Didos." Satoru watched Shinkawa retreat again and again. "What's wrong? Are you already handing victory over to Yurnero?"
"I never got to see your Unique Sword Skill. Asking me to break it apart now would be a little too unreasonable... It is a shame we cannot have a perfect sword duel in Aincrad, but if we are simulating XaXa and Yurnero, this step is already the limit." Shinkawa glanced at the fine cuts covering his body and laughed darkly.
"Besides, right now, we are in GGO."
Satoru paused, then leapt backward at once.
The shock of an explosion filled the area, and the blast blew sand high into the air.
"I set that up long before you arrived. I do not think you will complain that it is unfair. You are the kind of player who believes that if you can throw a grenade, there is no need to waste effort aiming a gun. And besides... in a new world, learning the new rules, the new ways of fighting, and integrating all of it..."
Shinkawa spoke calmly.
"That is the duel we have always repeated."
"Not bad."
Satoru's soft laugh came from inside the smoke, along with the rapid whistle of something cutting through the air.
The rapier in Shinkawa's hand drew a sharp arc in front of him. A bullet struck that arc with a metallic clang, splitting into a brief shower of sparks.
Satoru stepped out of the blasted smoke. The katana in his right hand hung at his side, while his left hand held the Peacemaker revolver level.
"Even if the memories of Aincrad cannot be erased, and even if the phantom of myself as a swordsman appears every time I raise a blade, this is no longer that floating castle. The rules of this game are guns and bullets. No matter how skilled you are with a sword, you still need to know how to use your strengths and cover your weaknesses."
"Pulling together every advantage, creating my own edge, fighting through calculation prepared in advance. That is what I used to do."
An ordinary man's gun.
An ordinary man's sword.
"Shinkawa... how good are you as a gunman?"
A moment later, flame burst from the muzzle of the Peacemaker.
...
Strong.
That was Sinon's only thought as she waited in the distance, trusting the victorious ending Satoru had promised her. Through the scope of her beloved Hecate, the small extension of vision she had always used only to snipe enemies had now become her aid in watching them.
As for the sword duel that had unfolded earlier, far beyond the area she understood, all she could think was that she did not understand it, but it was incredible.
Now, alongside the dancing blades, there was also the sound of gunfire she knew so well.
This was strength she could understand.
Balance, bullet prediction, ballistic accuracy. All of it was perfect. The Black Star in Death Gun's hand and the Peacemaker in Satoru's were both being pushed to the absolute limit of what those firearms could do. Every single bullet went straight for the opponent's forehead or heart.
It was hard to imagine what kind of control it took to press one's heart into something so close to perfect calm.
And on top of that, neither of them had abandoned the blade in their other hand.
Every shot was meant to interrupt the enemy's rhythm and link into the next wave of offense. That offense might be another suppressive bullet, or it might be a slash delivered by charging straight in.
And whenever the magazine ran dry, the cold weapon in the other hand became the only weapon, intercepting bullets with precision while the empty gun was reloaded.
A perfect fusion of gun and blade.
Sinon had never imagined a duel like this could exist.
She naturally knew how strong Satoru was as a gunman, and Death Gun's skill as a sniper had definitely surpassed her own.
Even so, she had always vaguely felt that they would settle things either with guns or with swords.
She had never imagined they would use both at the same time.
Or rather, maybe this was what should have been normal. These were all their tools, all means to win. There was no need to deliberately hide them.
Through Hecate's scope, flashes of light kept bursting between the two figures racing across the battlefield. Bullet trails scraped past their bodies, while the force behind the blades grew far more intense than before. At one point, both launched a fierce assault at the same time and collided head-on, blades and bullets roaring at the closest possible distance.
The gun was like another sword, and the sword carried the killing power of another gun.
The sight was already enough to make reality itself feel doubtful.
But the techniques hidden inside it were clear. Recoil control, counting bullets by memory, firing through experience and feel while accounting for wind, reloading with practiced ease.
All of it was plain to see.
There was nothing superhuman about them. They were simply using every technique they had.
Using them to the very limit.
Their weapons were simple as well. One handgun, one revolver, and two metal weapons they had made themselves.
Yet it could be this gorgeous. This overwhelming.
The limit... of ordinary people.
How strange.
As she watched them, the unease and fear that had existed inside her disappeared.
Even Death Gun, whom she had once thought of as a shadow, looked strangely clear in the way he fought.
They were roaring. They were trying to kill each other. And yet, she could no longer feel the pressure of enemies clashing.
It was almost like...
A fight between friends.
They refused to lose easily, and even if it was brutal, they were enjoying it.
Even under these circumstances.
"So he just took all of it on...?"
Sinon's soft whisper scattered into the wind.
"But you have to win. Show me that you can."