114 Chapter 114 - Hard-fought

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I meant to post this chapter yesterday, but my internet connection wasn't of the same mind, so you get it today instead. Enjoy!

////// START OF CHAPTER //////

Looking cool was a skill that seemed to come naturally to frontliners. There was no other way to explain their nonchalance when standing in front of the door to a floor boss room.

Drifter's parents, Kirito's family, Asuna's father, and pretty much everyone else around the world were watching and waiting with clenched fists. SAO, horrifying as it was, had been entertaining and even fun to watch for those in the real world for a while. After all, only a few were related to the SAO victims, so to everyone around the world, it was like hearing about a war in a faraway country on the news. You felt that it was sad, but then you moved on because it had nothing to do with you.

But suddenly it did. Because the 10th floor came and over 2 billion spectators watched live how 6 people lost their lives in what was essentially gladiatorial combat. And anything felt more personal when you could see their faces and hear them scream as they died. And then another died on the next floor, and now no one could bring themselves to look away and go on with their day when a floor boss raid happened.

Well, there were still plenty of people who enjoyed watching the raids, and online bets reached frankly absurd amounts, but that was neither here nor there.

The point was, to the vast majority of the people watching, the manner in which the frontliners behaved, especially after hearing what the floor boss was, was far too composed. They didn't seem tense - not more than usual, at least - nor were they making last-minute plans or second-guessing themselves. A few of the leaders were chatting in a circle, but it was mostly small talk.

To most, their behavior was simply unexplainable. To some groups, however, it was identifiable. They were the soldiers. Or cops. Veterans. Anyone who had seen war of any kind, who had seen life and death on the battlefield. To them, the Assault Team at the moment felt familiar. In some way, the frontliners were soldiers who had lived, and were still living, through hundreds and thousands of battles. A different type of conflict, virtual instead of physical, with blades instead of guns, but death was just as real.

That was the only explanation for their nonchalance. Some would say it even boarded on complacency, but that wasn't the case. The Assault Team had learned everything there was to learn about the boss previously. They had sent the scout team in, watched, and analyzed the battle afterwards. They came up with tactics, fallbacks, and failsafes. They had prepared as best as they could. So now they were just waiting. No sense in tiring yourself by worrying about the near future.

Drifter himself had gotten tired of hearing Kind and Kibaou trade barbs, and wandered off. The frontliners weren't in any hurry to start the battle because they knew it was going to be a short, albeit dangerous, one. The scouting party had proved the floor boss was a glass cannon. The battle would be as quick as it was deadly.

"Hey, Drifter. Can we speak?"

The spearman turned his head to see who had called him. An eyebrow rose when he saw a familiar yet unfamiliar face.

"Griselda? What are you doing here?"

The brown-haired leader of the Golden Apple guild was looking more haggard than Drifter ever saw her. They had met a few times here and there, with her guild being cleaners and whatnot, and she was always cheerful and upbeat, but now there were dark shadows under her eyes and the smile she gave him was weak and fake.

It was also weird that Griselda was here alone. Drifter looked around, and didn't see the rest of her guild or her husband, Grimlock. He changed his question.

"Actually, how did you get here? I know you are good, Griselda, but going through the tower alone..."

In the few times they sparred, Drifter noticed that Griselda was at frontliner level. She could give Nautilus or Kizmel a run for their money, and, most importantly, she was cool-headed during a fight. The only reason she hadn't joined the Assault Team yet was because her guild wasn't quite there, and she didn't want to abandon them, which Drifter respected. Still, frontline-tier or not, climbing the labyrinth alone, especially just before a boss raid, when it was most devoid of people, was incredibly dangerous.

The guild leader smiled again, this time with a little more joy to it. She gestured with her thumb towards Argo, who was, as usual, standing back, but present.

"The Rat was with me. She might not be a frontliner either, but she is handy with those claws."

Drifter raised an eyebrow at Argo, who smirked, without moving from where she was. He shook his head with a fond sigh.

"Liz made them, but you aren't wrong. Anyway, why are you here?"

"I wanted to ask you something. You once said I had the potential to be a frontliner. Do you still think that?"

Now both of his eyebrows were raised in surprise, and Drifter stared at Griselda for a long moment.

"I do. But your timing isn't the greatest, Griselda. I can't just include someone who never fought with us in a floor boss raid. It would be too reckless and dangerous, for you and everyone else. We can talk about it after, if you want."

To his surprise, Griselda laughed. The spearman looked at her quizzically until she stopped. He saw Yuna and a few other Reavers giving him curious looks over her shoulder, and shrugged.

"Sorry, it's just that Argo the Rat said something very similar. I had heard you two were close, but she basically predicted what you would say word for word."

After she finished laughing, Griselda nodded and waved at Argo, who wiggled her fingers back. Drifter signaled the little rat that they would be having a talk later. Argo just stuck her tongue out at him.

"I know I can't join in the fun today, Drifter, but I just wanted to know if I really had that frontliner potential you said. I have plenty of confidence in myself, but having Broken Spear Drifter's opinion is a huge confidence booster."

"You are welcome, I guess. But what about the rest of Golden Apple? We can put them through the paces, but I'm not sure they are up to it, Griselda. No offense."

"None taken. And I'm not sure there will be a guild much longer. Grim and I had some quarrels about it. I want to become a frontliner because I feel like I could be doing so much more. But the others disagree. Some are even thinking of quitting as clearers. Even if we stick together, there's always danger, and now that we know every 10 floors it gets harder..."

She trailed off, and Drifter nodded in understanding. No one understood the reality of SAO better than the players, but for most it was still relatively safe most of the time. Frontliners and clearers were the obvious exceptions. You had to be a little crazy to become one. Nobody willingly risked their lives just because.

That wasn't all that had Griselda feeling down, of course. There was something else, and, if Drifter had to guess, from the way she spoke, it had to do with her husband.

He never particularly liked Grimlock. The timid man always had a smile that didn't reach his eyes. And they were cold eyes. Yuna had already mentioned he made her uncomfortable.

But even if Griselda was having love trouble, it was none of his business, so Drifter didn't mention it even when the woman went back to talk to Argo. They were on friendly terms, but Drifter wasn't that close to Griselda as to pry. Especially now that the raid was about to start.

As Kibaou called for everyone's attention and Drifter moved closer to the door, Yuna sidled up to him.

"What did Griselda want?"

"Jealous?"

"She is married."

"And? You are still jealous."

Drifter needled Yuna with a smirk. The Songstress smacked his shoulder and huffed, her cheeks tinged pink. His grin grew, knowing he had hit the nail on the head. Laughing, Drifter pulled Yuna close and planted a kiss on the top of her head.

"You are cute, Yun'."

The songstress pouted, but leaned onto him anyway.

"This isn't fair, you don't ever get jealous."

"That's because I know Nautilus has his sights set somewhere else. He's the only one I really worried about."

"Oi! Why are you bringing me into this?"

Drifter had spoken the last bit loudly on purpose. It was no secret that the ash-haired player had a crush on Yuna once, but he had long since moved on, so a chance to get in a two-in-one teasing like this was rare. And when the spearman saw Ran looking over Nautilus' shoulder with a small smirk, he decided to go for the triple.

"I thought you would appreciate the chance to make Ran jealous, Naut."

He ducked away as soon as he finished speaking, to avoid a punch from a now-blushing Ran, only to get smacked upside the head by Yuna.

"Act your age and shut up, Drifter."

"Yes, dear."

Properly cowed, Drifter pouted, before shaking his shoulders and standing upright. Yuna, Nautilus, Ran, and the others also suddenly took on serious expressions, all levity gone from their faces as if it was never there. Kibaou had his hand on the door to the boss room.

The air around the Assault Team changed in an instant. Gone were the smiles and worry-free faces. Now all that were left were expressions set with grim determination.

Griselda was taken aback by the sudden transformation. It was one thing to see it through the broadcasts, and another entirely to have a front-row seat like she did now. She suddenly understood a little more why Drifter said she couldn't just join the frontliners whenever she pleased

Under the watchful gazes of two worlds, the Assault Team made their way inside the boss chamber. Their gazes were all trained to the front, where there was a big, dark opening on the wall. The entire boss room, which looked like the inside of a giant cave, was covered in tunnels, but the frontliners knew from the scouting raid that the biggest one was where the boss would appear from.

And appear it did. The ground rumbled like ten trucks were speeding past them, and what looked like a giant red snake, easily thirty meters long and four wide, poked out of the hole. It flickered its forked tongue at them, and saliva fell from its mouth, igniting the ground where it dropped.

The boss' appearance was fearsome, but its name was even more intimidating. Aghyellr the Igneous Wyrm. A creature closely related to dragons, and the central piece of this floor's lore, if anyone cared about it. Frontliners didn't.

As planned beforehand, Liten, Vallerk, Shivata, and three other tanks stepped forward in a mixed-guild party to block the first attack. It was a little of a shot in the dark, since the scouting party only saw it once, but if there was an opening move, it was that.

They weren't disappointed. The floor boss reared its body, snarling and showing rows of sharp teeth. The visible portions of its underside glowed orange, like it was slowly charging something, starting near the middle of its body, and going towards its mouth.

"Brace!"

The fire breath smashed into the shield-bearers and broke like a wave against reefs. The wyrm hissed, then coiled its body for a strike. Vallerk and the others, still recovering from the fire breath, were smashed out of the way, but the Assault Team had already been expecting that. Prearranged teams encircled Aghyellr and attacked it.

Despite the shiny red scales, the boss' flesh was surprisingly soft. Drifter's spear sunk in it when he used Rage Spike, and left a brutal gash when he tore it free with a Horizontal. He could see right away that he had hurt the wyrm. With dozens of attacks landing on its huge body in the span of a few seconds, Aghyellr the Igneous Wyrm cried out and squirmed, a tenth of the first of four HP bars already gone.

But Drifter had called the boss a glass cannon earlier for a reason. Roaring, the wyrm swept its tail, smacking him and several others away. Drifter gulped when he saw a third of his HP just vanish.

After freeing itself from the attackers, Aghyellr rushed towards one of the many tunnels around the room and disappeared. Not eager to fight the deadly reptile in an enclosed and dark space, the Assault Team repositioned themselves in a circle, with tanks and shield-users on the outside, and the others in a second group in the middle.

It didn't take long for the boss to burst out from a completely different tunnel, right on Reaver's Requiem's side of the circle. Drifter grinned savagely when the monster slammed into Vallerk, the young teen holding his ground against the beast.

"Kizmel!"

Drifter slipped to Vallerk's left, stabbing his spear deep into the side of Aghyellr's body with a Dirty Play. At the same time, he shouted for the dark elf, who rushed over and, without hesitation, jumped up, stepped onto his weapon, then jumped again, getting level with the boss' head. A Cross Slash blinded one of its eyes. Feral grins developed onto the faces of every Reaver.

"Yes, Kizmel! Now we are talking!"

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