"Come to think of it, beta testers aren't really that impressive after all." After a long silence, someone finally broke the heavy atmosphere.
"Yeah, those guys probably weren't even better than us at the start. They might've even gotten hurt fighting something as weak as a slime-level boar. We always thought they were amazing, but honestly... how amazing could they really be?"
"Exactly! Even if they're skilled, can they clear all one hundred floors?"
"..." The mood quickly shifted. The players' stiff postures loosened, and laughter began to ripple through the crowd.
Perhaps among them were beta testers laughing along and blending in with the others under false pretenses—but that didn't matter.
After today, no one in this world would ever discriminate against beta testers again. From now on, when the subject came up, people would simply say, "Oh, you were a beta tester? Really?" and then move on without another thought.
"All right, little brother, your turn. Come on, apologize to everyone," Kurumi said, looking at Kibaou, who was still sitting on the ground.
"Hmph!" Kibaou turned his head away with a huff, crossing his arms as if he hadn't heard her. Kurumi chuckled. Oh? Acting all tsundere now, are we?
"Granted, what you said was true—beta testers were ahead of most players. I'll admit that. And yes, there are beta testers among us right now. But why should we treat them like enemies?" Kurumi said as she bent down, roughly ruffling Kibaou's spiky "morning star" hair until it looked like a bird's nest.
"Your big sister doesn't resent them at all. In fact, she respects them deeply. Being ahead of the rest means they're the ones fighting on the front lines. This is a game where we risk our lives! Should we really hate those who put themselves in danger, who fight at the front for all of us?"
Kurumi's words made Kibaou lower his head, a flicker of guilt crossing his face. The thing about hot-headed idealists was that they often couldn't see clearly—most of them were simply honest, straightforward people.
"We're gathered here for the boss raid meeting. Thousands of players have already left the Starting Town. But how many are willing to risk their lives to challenge the boss? Only the seventy or so of us standing here. To me, that makes every one of you a hero."
Kurumi crouched down, reached out, and took Kibaou's hand, pulling him to his feet. "There are a thousand beta testers and nine thousand regular players. In that huge gap of numbers, doesn't it mean something that many of those seventy are beta testers? Isn't that something worth respecting? Now, no more pouting—let's apologize together."
With one hand on Kibaou's head, Kurumi bowed alongside him. Finally, Kibaou muttered, "Sorry... you're all way braver than those cowards still hiding in the Starting Town."
"Boom, boom, boom..." Inside Kurumi's mind, imaginary crosses popped up one after another. This kid's got a bad case of righteous fury... and it's not cured yet. He's just redirected it from beta testers to the players who refuse to leave town. Looks like your big sister still has a lot to teach you.
"Party request," a notification popped up in front of Kibaou. He looked up and saw Kurumi smiling kindly at him.
"Now then, little brother, will you let your big sister be your trusted partner?" Kurumi asked sweetly. Kibaou turned away, flustered, but his trembling hand quickly pressed "Accept."
"Andrew! Would you be willing to be our final party member?" Kurumi called to the African-American warrior. Appearances could be deceiving—this intimidating man was the least scary of them all.
"Why choose me?" Andrew asked, his deep voice carrying both confusion and awkwardness.
"When chatting with my little brothers and sisters earlier, I heard about a African-American man who always shared his hard-earned resources with others to help them grow stronger. I don't know if that was you—but I've decided to believe it was."
Kurumi's warm, charming smile made the usually stoic Andrew blush faintly. He gave a short nod and accepted the invitation.
At last, the gate leading to the First Floor Boss Chamber—at the very peak of the labyrinth—was pushed open by their combined effort.
Boom... boom... boom... The fire pillars on both sides flared to life, illuminating the once-dark chamber in a crimson glow. The vast room was built entirely of black-and-white diagonally cut tiles, with massive stone columns supporting the ceiling above.
At the far end of the chamber stood a grand throne. Step by step, it ascended toward the back wall, and seated atop it was a gigantic half-dragon humanoid boss. To Kurumi, however, its head looked more like that of a pig.
"Roar!" The half-dragon bellowed furiously, its eyes snapping open as four crimson HP bars appeared beside its head.
With a heavy leap, the red-scaled boss jumped down from the throne, immediately summoning three smaller half-dragons. Together, they charged forward, brandishing spiked clubs. This boss was clearly the impatient type.
"Roar!"
"Attack—!" The players clashed head-on with the boss. Diavel directed the battle with precision, ordering most of the group to keep the main boss occupied while others focused on the three minions. Kurumi and Futayo, meanwhile, remained on standby.
This had been agreed upon beforehand. The two strongest players—Kurumi and Futayo—would act as a reserve strike team, intervening only if the situation spiraled out of control. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn't even need to fight.
"Roar!" A small half-dragon let out a dying cry as the group overwhelmed it. They immediately turned to the second one, Asuna leading the charge.
Charging power into her blade, Asuna's sword began to glow—an indicator of an activated sword skill. Then, like a streak of light, she thrust forward at blinding speed. Her movements were so fast the blade's tip couldn't be seen, only a dazzling flash.
The small half-dragon was knocked backward. Asuna's attack halted briefly—normal post-skill lag. In that instant, she was completely vulnerable.
That was when teamwork became crucial. Kirito, who had already readied his own skill, dashed past her. His glowing sword slashed into the monster before it could counterattack. The two of them took turns chaining attacks—a technique known as Switching.
Kirito's strike dealt massive damage, his sword still shimmering with light. The skill wasn't over yet. He reversed his grip and struck again, his blade piercing the half-dragon's chest.
This was a combo skill—a technique that used one charged attack to unleash several consecutive strikes. The trick was to release small bursts of strength instead of spending it all at once, allowing the system to register the continuous movement as an extended sword skill. It effectively canceled the usual post-skill delay.
In theory, it sounded simple. But in a game where sword skills were system-coded, only two players among these seventy could pull off true combos. Kirito could manage triple combos consistently, and Asuna could do the same during her bursts. Both were unquestionable prodigies.
"Roar!" The three small half-dragons fell one by one, and the players surrounded the main boss. Under Diavel's sharp leadership, the battle went smoothly—no casualties so far. The boss's HP dropped through three entire bars.
"ROAR!" The massive half-dragon threw back its head and howled. It suddenly tossed aside its club and drew a nodachi from its waist.
Kirito froze. In the beta test, the boss had used a scimitar. This change meant its entire attack pattern had been reworked. Relying on beta knowledge now would be dangerous.
"Everyone, wait! Let me take this one!" Diavel shouted, issuing a command that caught Kirito off guard. Drawing his sword and shield, he stepped forward—clearly intending to solo the boss.
"This isn't the time to go one-on-one! We should gang up on it!" Kirito started to shout, but before he could finish, Diavel flashed him a faintly confident smile. In that moment, Kirito realized the truth—Diavel was a beta tester, too. And immediately after, another thought hit him: This is bad. He's going to get himself killed!
Raising his sword and shield, Diavel prepared for the incoming strike. His sword glowed with energy—he was charging a counter skill.
Then, the boss suddenly leapt high into the air. Its enormous body moved with shocking agility, bouncing off the room's stone pillars. Diavel froze, stunned by the unexpected movement.
Crash! After three lightning-fast rebounds, the boss dropped behind him like thunder, its nodachi cleaving straight through his waist. Diavel's eyes went wide; he couldn't even react. The other players were frozen in horror.
"Futayo!" Kurumi shouted. A streak of azure light flashed forward, her voice clear and commanding. The Tonbokiri spear swept out in a flowing arc, intercepting the boss's descending blade with perfect timing.
Clang! Sparks exploded as the nodachi was deflected. In front of Diavel appeared a heroic figure—small in stature, yet standing tall and proud, her gaze toward the boss as clear as still water.
Gripping the Tonbokiri spear, Futayo's petite frame radiated unshakable strength. Her very presence exuded the aura of a warrior capable of holding a mountain pass alone against an army.
Whoosh... The spear thrust forward, its motion pure and sharp. Though the wielder stood only a few steps away, her azure eyes burned with unwavering focus.
Diavel could feel it—the girl's movements were utterly composed, her strikes perfectly measured. Yet her gaze wasn't focused on the boss. It was inward, concentrated entirely upon herself.
Those blue eyes didn't rest on anyone in particular, yet everyone found their attention drawn irresistibly to her. Each swing of her spear was elegant and resolute, every movement suffused with grace and discipline.
In battle, Futayo shone brighter than anyone—a beacon of calm strength, her flawless combat form as beautiful as a plum blossom defying frost and snow.
"Honestly, little brother... you could stand to be a bit more honest with your big sister," came a teasing, lilting voice. Diavel looked up to see Kurumi smiling down at him.
"Kimi-nee..." Diavel lowered his head in shame. Those eyes—so full of knowing amusement—seemed to say, I already understand everything.
He didn't dare meet her gaze. Deep down, he feared that Kimi-nee had seen through his secret—that she knew he was a beta tester. That she knew the reason he ordered everyone to stop attacking and let him fight alone was not bravery, but greed—he wanted the last hit, the boss reward.
Diavel would never forget that day they left the Starting Town, when Kimi-nee stood proudly before everyone and declared she wasn't a beta tester—her chest held high, her tone full of confidence, claiming she knew nothing about monster data.
And yet, she had thrown herself into the front lines without hesitation.
To Diavel, Kimi-nee was always the brightest, most dazzling, and warmest person in the world. He feared that the ever-radiant Kimi-nee—who shone for everyone around her—would see the darkness in his heart... and despise him for it.