The forest rang with the crisp sounds of cutting and ragged, urgent breaths, but louder than either was the glass-like shattering of monsters breaking apart into fragments as they died. The few sword skills he had for his curved blade cycled one after another, going right back on cooldown the moment they were ready again.
Whenever he used a skill, he had to make sure it hit as many enemies as possible.
He couldn't neglect dodging, either, though that depended on individual ability, and he was still fighting in a pretty miserable state.
What worried him most was the curved sword's durability. That tiny number wasn't nearly enough to reassure him that he could finish off all these swaying, disgusting things.
He wasn't a machine, after all. He couldn't calculate every single step.
So yeah... I really am just the kind of guy who can only see two steps ahead.
Satoru's face was red with strain. He clenched himself tight and, almost without noticing, swung every slash with all his strength. In truth, there was no need. Hitting harder or softer didn't make that much difference in damage.
But if he didn't fight with this do-or-die resolve, he'd go down sooner or later, whether here or in the real world.
This was a real battle.
At last, he let out a shout from the bottom of his lungs.
Come on...
Come on.
Come on!!
The pounding of his artificial heartbeat was so loud it seemed to echo in his ears. He kept attacking, numb now, while the monsters dissolved one after another. Then, from behind him, came another shattering sound, clearly different from the ones the monsters made.
So you didn't make it, Coper.
Satoru mourned him for a single second, without feeling.
The last three monsters finally died with the curved sword's durability barely still at 20. Satoru bent over where he stood, bracing his hands on his knees. His vision was still dark at the edges, but this wasn't the time to rest. Forcing down the urge, he gripped his sword and started back one step at a time.
As for the dead closed beta player, he didn't even want to look. There was nothing worth seeing anyway. There would be no corpse there, no gravestone either.
By the time he made it back to Yerika Village with his nerves stretched tight, he could already see other players moving around. He passed by them in silence, and none of them could smell the colorless, odorless bloodstink clinging to him.
When he reached the run-down thatched cottage, Satoru stepped inside. The housewife was still brewing something, and above her head flashed the golden symbol for a completed quest.
He walked over, took out the Ovule, and handed it to her. The NPC gave a proper response. She froze for a moment, then broke into a tearful smile full of joy as she carefully accepted it with both hands. Words of thanks poured out of her mouth in a rapid-fire stream, too fast for him to interrupt.
The housewife wiped her tears away, put the Ovule aside, and went into the next room. When she came back, she was holding a fairly decent-looking longsword.
"Thank you. Thank you so much."
She lowered her head sincerely.
Satoru gave a cool little grunt and took the sword.
The housewife hurried back to the pot and dropped the Ovule into the murky medicine she had been brewing. It looked like the remedy had succeeded.
The quest was over. The Yerika Village series had ended. He'd gotten a solid reward, but he didn't leave right away. Instead, he sat down on the same rough wooden chair as before and watched the housewife work.
Five minutes later, she finally ladled out a bowl of medicine and slowly walked toward the half-open bedroom.
He had never looked inside that room before. For no particular reason, Satoru stood up and followed her in. The housewife didn't stop him at all. Or maybe there simply wasn't any step in the quest script meant to block a player from entering.
It was a cramped, dim room, and damp too. Just the wardrobe against the wall and the bed took up nearly all the little space there was. Satoru could only stand at the doorway and look inside.
A gaunt young girl lay on the bed. There was nothing beautiful about her thinness. She was so skin-and-bones it only made her look pitiful, even a little frightening.
She slowly opened her eyes, still bright somehow, and looked first at her mother carrying the medicine, then at Satoru.
Then she smiled.
Was that for her mother? The scripting was surprisingly detailed. Satoru watched in silence from the doorway.
With gentle, doting care, the housewife helped her scripted daughter sit up, but the motion made the girl break into a violent fit of coughing. Her face turned even paler, paler than the moon. The housewife quickly patted her back softly, trying to ease her discomfort.
"Akasa, look. The adventurer brought medicine back for you from the forest. If you drink this, you'll get better, right?"
"Mhm..."
Surprisingly, her voice was cute. The sickly girl nodded, held the bowl with both hands, and slowly drank every last drop.
A little color seemed to return to her face.
There was no reason to keep watching. There wouldn't be any follow-up quest, much less some hidden reward like that skill point.
Satoru turned to leave.
Just then—
"Mister, thank you."
A line of gratitude, so real it sounded like it came from someone truly saved, stopped him in his tracks.
Satoru spun back around.
The little girl was already lying down again. Strangely, the faint color that had finally appeared in her face was gone, replaced once more by that same sickly pallor as before. The housewife's expression had turned heavy and sorrowful again, no trace of her earlier happiness left.
And that cup full of medicine... he didn't even know where it had gone.
It was as if he had never brought back the Ovule at all. The little girl was still gravely ill.
The quest...
Had it reset?
So the next player could do it.
The thought suddenly hit him.
Satoru parted his lips, but no words came out.
After a long while, he finally walked out of the room and stepped over the cottage's threshold.
Behind him, from the bedroom, came the faint cough of the gravely ill girl once more.