PoH was skilled, incredibly so. Drifter was going at it as hard as he would against a floor boss, throwing every single skill in his arsenal against the man, and yet barely managing to connect any.
The guild leader of Laughing Coffin dodged, blocked, or parried all of Drifter's attacks. Of course, the spearmaster did the same to PoH's retaliation, but the battle was going nowhere.
In fact, it was worse than going nowhere. PoH had a kind of adeptness and cunning Drifter had never seen before. He flitted around the battlefield, slashing unsuspecting frontliners with his cleaver, and somehow always positioning himself so that Drifter was forced to abort his attacks or hit an ally.
Even when other players tried to gang up on him, including Kirito, Nautilus, and Asuna, PoH had somehow managed to make them stumble into each other's way, to the point Drifter was forced to order the others to stay back, as it was causing more harm than good.
What none of them knew was that, for all the experience they had accumulated in their time in Sword Art Online, it wasn't even close to PoH's. A mercenary and a killer for hire, the man had decades of combat experience over them.
Not all of it translated to SAO, of course. There were no guns, and all kinds of weapons like spears and swords, which were rarely used nowadays - and against which he had little to no experience - were mainstream in Aincrad, and all the game aspects, such as someone being able to simply ignore getting stabbed because their stats were high enough, meant PoH had to learn as much as the otger players to do well in the game.
But one major advantage he would always hold over any of the frontliners was experience. No one and nothing, not even Cardinal, could take away the instincts he developed over years of fighting and bleeding in the outside world.
Snake Bite.
Overhaul.
Spear and cleaver met in a shower of sparks, and Drifter grimaced while PoH smirked. Inside, however, the red player wasn't feeling as carefree as he showed.
Broken Spear Drifter was good. Really fucking good. He may be lacking when it came to fighting other humans, but PoH was also hindered by how few spear-wielding opponents he had met before SAO - namely: zero. And Drifter was a master of the weapon.
All that was to say, it was almost an even match, if not for PoH's Unique Skill. Drifter had only been cut by the murderer's weapon once, but his HP was constantly trickling down. Not to a worrying extent, at least not yet, but the fact neither Battlefield Recovery, Healing Crystals, or Yuna's Rest could stop it was.
Drifter needed to end this battle fast. Not just for his own life, but also all the other frontliners.
And PoH's smirk was bothering him. Laughing Coffin members were falling left and right, either dead or arrested, and the man showed no signs of being concerned that his guild was falling apart right in front of his eyes.
Now, this could be just because PoH was a psychopath. Normally, Drifter would accept that answer.
But today, he couldn't afford not to consider the other possibility: that PoH had a way to escape.
And that couldn't, wouldn't be allowed. If the leader of all criminals and killers in Aincrad lived another day, there was no telling how much damage he would cause.
It was time to take risks. A quick glance at the upper left corner of his vision revealed to Drifter that he still had about 70% of his HP left, with a further 2% withering away every 5 seconds or so. Nothing worrisome - for now.
PoH was in a similar, yet opposite, boat. The red guild leader had about 60% of his health, but for every percentage that Drifter lost, his recovered.
"A vampiric DoT effect. Annoying."
"Hehe. That's my Unique Skill, Broken Spear Drifter. I like it more than yours."
"We will see. Needle Spear."
PoH dodged, as he had predicted. But this time, instead of halting in preparation for his counterattack, Drifter pressed on, smoothly transitioning into a Vertical, headless of the cleaver coming at his chest.
PoH's eyes widened in a somewhat stunned mirth, surprised by Drifter's perceived mistake. The spearmaster saw in his gaze the moment he decided to trade blows, tanking the Vertical to land another hit on the Reaver.
Which made his shock all the more enjoyable when Drifter canceled his skill mid swing and used Infinite Spear to transform his spear into a staff, which just so happened to fall right in the path of the cleaver.
The force behind the blow still sent the Reaver reeling. Clearly, PoH had poured most of his stats in strength.
But it was worth it. Sliding his left foot back and bending his body in the same direction, Drifter switched the position of his hands on the staff, suddenly taking a left-handed grip.
"Ack!"
The bottom of the weapon flew up and smacked PoH squarely in the chin. It was the red player's turn to stumble.
Upturn. Riptide.
Drifter would have been dead ten times over if he was stupid enough to let go of such a chance.
His trident stabbed deep into PoH's chest, and he then heaved, throwing the man over his shoulder.
Somehow, the red player managed to twist in mid air and land on one knee instead of flat on his back as Drifter intended. Still, he was in no position to block the second skill, and the twin slashes of Riptide carved red trenches on his upper torso and face.
They also bulldozed the durability of PoH's hood, and it broke apart, revealing a head of raven-black locks and a harsh face twisted in a scowl.
"You are dead."
Drifter's response to PoH's growl was to try to stab him in the face, but the red player jerked his head out of the way, ending up with only a grazing cut on his cheek, and swung his cleaver while still kneeling.
"Ugh!"
Drifter couldn't help but groan as he felt his legs give. Were it not for his spear supporting him, he would have fallen face-first on the ground.
A quick glance revealed what he feared. His left foot was missing from the ankle down.
Even so, the spearmaster still prepared a follow-up attack. With both him and PoH in less than ideal positions, he was betting everything on killing the red player before he could kill him.
He probably would have succeeded too. PoH only had about 20% of his HP left, while Drifter, for all he was pretty much crippled, sat at double that.
But just as he raised his spear to unleash the Snake Bite that would end PoH's life, he saw something that made his blood run cold.
There, straight ahead of him, was Silica fighting a Laughing Coffin member. She was winning handily - her HP was in the upper yellow, with Pina healing her with her bubbles, while the red player was deep in the red.
But Silica hesitated. Of course she did. Out of all the Reavers, she was still a child. A mere fourteen years old.
Old enough to kill, a conclusion she seemed to have reached too, for Drifter saw her eyes narrow and her dagger start glowing.
In that moment, time seemed to freeze for the spearmaster. His Snake Bite was canceled before it could even begin taking shape, and his right arm bent over his head, his spear slotting nicely over his forearm with practiced ease.
It was stupid. It was illogical. It was hypocritical.
He knew all that, in that brief moment. But he still let his Serpentcoil Impale fly.
And it flew true. Milliseconds before Silica's Triple Fang could connect with the red player amd end his life, the silver projectile that was Drifter's spear pretty much obliterated his head from his shoulders.
"Well, that was fucking dumb."
Drifter's gaze met Silica's stunned stare for half a second before PoH's disappointed remark grabbed his attention.
The guild leader of Reaver's Requiem turned to the founder of Laughing Coffin, his vision filled with the black cleaver.
Darkness Blade.
It tore through his chest and health. A deep, messy cut that should have split him in half. But somehow, despite his right arm flying away from its socket, Drifter managed to hang on by a sliver of HP.
A sliver which was rapidly disappearing as PoH's Unique Skill ate away at his health, the few red pixels left in his HUD vanishing one by one.
"Drifter!"
At least half a dozen voices yelled at once, but the spearmaster only had eyes for PoH.
The expression on the red player's face was a mix of angry, let down, and curious. His head tilted to the side as he spun his cleaver.
"Why did you do that, Broken Spear? The girl had it well in hand. She was about to kill him."
"That is why. Silica's hands are still clean. Mine already have plenty of blood. One more doesn't matter for me. But it would change her life forever."
More pixels were going, and Drifter's vision was starting to go black - he didn't know if that was what actually happened when you died, or simply his adrenaline overriding Cardinal's system.
PoH snorted, but his voice wasn't amused.
"Ha! What a hypocrite. Weren't you the one spouting out things like 'no mercy' and 'kill them all? And for one little girl you go back on all of it? How pathetic. To think I actually considered you worth fighting."
"Fuck you."
PoH ignored him. His gaze swept over the dying battle. The handful of remaining Laughing Coffin members, about a dozen, had unconsciously surrounded them, giving him the perfect chance to escape - but not before gloating some more.
"You know what, Broken Spear Drifter? You fucked up massively. Because now the little girl isn't just going to live the rest of her life blaming herself for your death - she's also gonna be the first one I kill when I start hunting again. Shishishishi!"
PoH's wheezing laughter was full of venom. He even licked his lips while staring straight at Silica, who was standing shock-still in the same spot.
That was a mistake on his part. He really should have been paying attention to Drifter. Especially his eyes.
They weren't the eyes of someone who had given up.
"No."
"What the fuck do you-"
The red player didn't get the chance to complete his sentence. Drifter gathered all his strength on his remaining foot, and threw himself at the Laughing Coffin leader.
He smashed against PoH, bringing them both back down to their knees. His left arm wrapped around the red player and pulled him close, refusing to let go no matter how much the other man struggled.
It looked almost as if they were hugging. Except no hug contained that much viciousness in it. Drifter's glare as he glared at PoH, their faces not even two fingers apart, was positively feral.
"You are not hurting anyone I care about ever again, PoH. Agil!"
At his shout, PoH's eyes widened, and he squirmed just enough to turn his head around to look over his shoulder, where his gaze met the looming figure of Reaver's Requiem Merchant Warrior, massive ax raised overhead.
"Motherfu-"
Agil's ax came down. PoH's head and torso were diagonally split in two, flying in four different directions.
The Reaver couldn't gave given a fuck less at the moment. He let go of his ax and dropped to his knees next to his guild master, who had fallen to the ground after losing his support.
The spearmaster looked at Agil, then past him. He wished he could have seen his entire family, but only a few were in his line of sight. Silica, Kirito, Kizmel, Sinon, Nautilus.
Yuna.
Drifter opened his mouth. Then he closed it again as Agil's Healing Crystal shattered uselessly on his chest, PoH's Darkness Blade still eating away at him.
Revenge for its master.
Broken Spear Drifter smiled. Then darkness filled his vision.
[ YOU DIED ]
--------------------------
The moment Drifter died, his body imploding in a shower of shimmering blue shards, much of the world froze. From his mother, whose's eyes rolled to the back of her head as she fainted, to Seijirou in the hospital, and billions of spectators around the globe.
Plenty of players had died today already, from Laughing Coffin and the Assault Team alike. But none of them had been Broken Spear Drifter.
A titled player, a banner of the Assault Team and frontliners, a name not a single person the world over didn't know. The one who had pushed the hardest for the raid against Laughing Coffin.
He was the first titled player to die. And it seemed his death caused the world to grind to a halt.
But not Aincrad. Not the frontliners. They saw Drifter die, felt a piece of them die with him, and started fighting even harder to kill the remaining Laughing Coffin members.
And most of all, Reaver's Requiem. None of them froze. On the contrary, to a man, they burst into motion.
"Kirito!"
As one, their eyes turned to the Black Swordsman, even as they started running towards the spot Drifter died, where Agil was still on his knees.
Reaver's Requiem former leader didn't need their reminders to know what to do. Yuna, Sinon, Nautilus, and Asuna were all too far away. He was the closest one.
The only problem was the Laughing Coffin ax-wielder in front of him, who blocked his path even as Kirito's internal clock started ticking down.
Ten. Nine...
Both of his swords flashed in a blur, a Line Cut with his right, and a Horizontal with his left, severing the red player's left arm and leg.
Eight. Seven...
Suddenly, three swords were thrusted into the red player's body from the side by Ran and Yuuki, one coming out of his neck, the other two from his chest.
Six...
"Go!"
Five...
Kirito jumped forward with a Sonic Leap, scattering the shards of the red player.
Four...
He landed next to Agil, and let his swords clatter to the ground. His left hand opened the menu.
Three...
His index finger swiped down desperately, until it found the item he was looking for. Kirito mashed the button like his life depended on it.
Two...
There was a brief flash of white light, and a black, unassuming stone was resting in his open palm.
One...
Kirito clenched his fist and the stone broke into shards. Only, those weren't blue like every other he had seen in Aincrad. They were a deep, bloody red.
Kirito, Agil, and all the nearby players, which included most of the Reavers, were forced to close their eyes as the red shards pulsed and then shone with a bright light of the same color.
Zero.