SAO: Strawberry Bunny

In a quieter corner of the 1st Floor, away from the bustling towns and the murmurs of awe surrounding Strawberry's victory over the 1st Floor boss, a pair of players lounged lazily under the shade of a large tree near an open field. BlackWolf and Sylvana were their in-game names, but if Strawberry were to see them, she would recognize them instantly as Zev and Aubrie—the two people responsible for her death in her old life.

BlackWolf, a tall and imposing figure clad in sleek black armor, leaned casually against the tree, his two-handed sword resting on the ground beside him. His dark, wolf-themed helmet hung from his belt, revealing a sharp, arrogant smirk that played across his lips. Sylvana, dressed in an elegant, flowing black and silver robe, sat beside him with an air of superiority, her eyes scanning the horizon with disinterest. Her long, black hair spilled down her back, and a sly smile curved her lips as she idly twirled a staff in her hand.

Around them, a small group of players—weak, under-leveled, and desperate—fought off waves of low-level monsters. These players had been forced into a party with BlackWolf and Sylvana, not by choice, but by coercion. The stronger duo had convinced—or rather threatened—them to help grind out levels and experience while they lounged comfortably, contributing little to the fights.

The contracted players were exhausted, their HP bars dangerously low from taking blow after blow from the monsters while BlackWolf and Sylvana barely lifted a finger to help. Sweat dripped from their brows as they struggled to keep up, their bodies pushed to the brink of collapse, but Zev and Aubrie didn't care.

Instead, they laughed.

"Hey babe," BlackWolf said with a chuckle, his voice dripping with amusement as he glanced over at Sylvana, "I bet Memphis is crying in her grave right now, knowing she's missing out on this game. It's the one thing she was always excited about, and now… nothing."

He let out a dark laugh, his mind briefly flashing back to the last time he'd seen his former best friend—Memphis Slater, known to him as Oleander, lying on the floor of her penthouse, gasping for air as the poison from the wine he'd given her slowly took hold. The look of betrayal in her eyes, the shock as she realized that the person she had trusted the most had turned on her—he reveled in that memory.

Sylvana—or Aubrie, as Strawberry would have known her—let out a disdainful snort at the mention of Memphis's name. Her silver eyes glinted with cold contempt, and her lips curled into a sneer.

"Humph. Don't even mention that trash in front of me," she said, her voice laced with venom. "I only dated her for her fame and money. As soon as I got what I wanted from her, she became useless to me. The only reason I kept her around for as long as I did was because of how pathetic she was. So desperate for attention. She practically worshipped me."

Aubrie's words were dripping with cruelty, and her eyes flickered with malicious satisfaction as she remembered how easily she had manipulated Memphis—how she had twisted her emotions, played with her insecurities, and then discarded her like trash when she was no longer useful.

BlackWolf, still grinning, shrugged casually. "Yeah, well, she's gone now. And we're here. Ain't it funny how things worked out? I always told her I'd beat her at something one day. Guess I won in the end." He chuckled darkly, watching the under-leveled players in front of him struggle to stay alive against a group of Frenzied Kobolds. Their health bars were dangerously low, but BlackWolf made no move to help.

Instead, he leaned back, enjoying the view of the weaker players fighting for their lives.

"Hey, should we give them a hand before they all die?" Sylvana asked lazily, though there was no real concern in her voice.

BlackWolf glanced at the struggling players, their desperate cries for help barely registering with him. "Nah," he said with a smirk. "Let them take the hits for us. They're just cannon fodder, anyway. If they die, they die."

One of the contracted players, a young man with trembling hands and a pale face, turned to BlackWolf with pleading eyes. His HP was critically low, and he was moments away from death. "P-Please… help us… we're gonna die!"

But BlackWolf just stared at him, unfazed. "Then try harder. Not my problem if you can't handle a few kobolds."

The young player's face twisted in fear, but before he could say anything else, a Frenzied Kobold swung its axe down, striking him in the side. His health dropped to zero, and he shattered into polygons, his desperate scream lingering in the air for a moment before fading.

The other players in the party watched in horror, but Zev and Aubrie continued to laugh. To them, this was all just a game—another way to exert control, to toy with those who were weaker than them.

"Can't believe how weak these people are," BlackWolf muttered, shaking his head in mock disappointment. "Makes me wonder how many of them will even survive to the next floor."

"They won't," Sylvana said with a cruel smile. "Not unless we let them."

The two shared a dark look before bursting into laughter again, their voices echoing through the field like a chilling wind.

As they continued to relax under the tree, the rumors of Strawberry spread farther and farther across the floor. Players whispered about the solo player who had taken down Illfang the Kobold Lord. But BlackWolf and Sylvana—Zev and Aubrie—hadn't yet heard of the player's victory. They were too wrapped up in their own arrogance and cruelty, unaware that the person they had betrayed and left for dead in the real world was not only alive but now a rising legend in this virtual one.

But when they did hear the name Strawberry, it would only be a matter of time before they realized who it truly was.

And when that time came, the game would change once again.

0*0*0*0

After selling her wares and feeling a bit lighter both in her inventory and mentally, Strawberry decided it was time to focus on something that would give her an edge in battle. She had decided to do the Martial Arts quest tucked away in a remote part of the 2nd Floor, a hidden gem that would reward her with an Extra Skill—the kind of rare ability that could set her apart from other solo players.

And Strawberry was all about gaining an edge.

The quest itself was hard to find if you didn't have a guide, but Strawberry had already completed it during the beta. The first step, was to find the quest's Non-Player Character (NPC), an old master who lived in a hut high up in the mountains on the southern edge of the 2nd Floor. It wasn't marked on the map, and there were no quest markers to guide players. It was purely exploration.

With her newly purchased potions and gear secure, Strawberry set off toward, the sun hung low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the jagged peaks of the southern mountain range.

Strawberry stood at the base of the path leading up the mountain, her gaze tracing the steep, winding trail that disappeared into the clouds. The air here was crisp and cool, carrying with it the faint scent of pine and wet earth. The higher she climbed, the thinner the air would become, and the more dangerous the terrain. But none of that deterred her.

She remembered the challenge well. The Martial Arts quest wasn't just about earning an Extra Skill—it was a test of endurance, focus, and patience. Even in the beta, players had struggled to complete it, and now that she was back in the full release, the difficulty would be the same, if not greater. But Strawberry wasn't one to shy away from a challenge—especially not one that would give her a significant edge as a solo player.

Muffin, her horned bunny companion, perched nervously on her shoulder, his tiny claws gripping her jacket for balance. His little body trembled slightly as he gazed up at the towering mountains. Strawberry smiled faintly and gave him a reassuring pat on the head. "Don't worry, Muffin. We've got this."

The bunny chirped softly in response, though his wide eyes betrayed his unease. The climb ahead was steep, and the path wasn't exactly the safest. Still, Muffin had stuck with her through thick and thin, and she was grateful for his company, even if he was a little skittish at times.

With one last look at the base of the mountain, Strawberry adjusted her sword and set off. The narrow, rocky path twisted upward, cutting through dense forests of towering pines and craggy outcroppings. The trek was long and grueling, but the sound of the wind whistling through the trees, the rustle of leaves, and the occasional cry of distant birds lent an air of tranquility to the journey. Despite the dangers of Aincrad, the world still had moments of beauty, and the 2nd Floor's southern mountains were no exception.

As she climbed higher, the temperature dropped, and a cool breeze swept down the mountainside, carrying with it the scent of fresh pine and snow from the higher peaks. The world grew quieter, the bustle of players and NPCs in the towns far below fading into nothingness. Up here, it was just her, Muffin, and the mountain.

Strawberry's thoughts wandered back to the beta. She remembered how difficult it had been to find the NPC's hut the first time. It had taken her days of searching and climbing before she finally found the right path. But once she had, the old master who lived at the top had taught her more than just the Martial Arts skill—he had taught her patience and how to draw power from within. Back then, it had been just another challenge to conquer. But now, in this life-or-death game, the quest felt different. More significant.

There was no margin for error in Sword Art Online.

Every skill mattered. Every advantage could mean the difference between survival and death. And the Martial Arts Extra Skill was one of those rare abilities that could give her the upper hand in close combat, especially when she needed to conserve her weapon's durability.

As she ascended the mountain, the path grew steeper, and the trees began to thin out, replaced by jagged rocks and patches of stubborn grass. Her legs burned with the effort of the climb, but Strawberry pushed forward, her breaths coming in steady, controlled bursts. She had been preparing for this moment ever since she reached the 2nd Floor, and she wasn't about to turn back now.

Muffin, however, wasn't handling the climb quite as well. The higher they went, the more nervous he became. His tiny claws dug into her shoulder, and every now and then, he let out a soft, worried chirp, his little body trembling as the path grew narrower and more treacherous.

"It's alright, Muffin," she said softly, giving him another gentle pat on the head. "Just hang on. We're almost there."

The bunny seemed to calm down slightly at her words, though he still clung tightly to her as they navigated the rough terrain. At one point, the path became so steep that Strawberry had to use her hands to pull herself up over large rocks and ledges. The air was thinner here, making each breath feel heavier, and she could feel the strain in her muscles as she hoisted herself upward.

Finally, after what felt like hours of climbing, Strawberry reached a small plateau near the summit. She stood still for a moment, catching her breath and letting her muscles relax. The view from up here was breathtaking—a panoramic expanse of Aincrad's 2nd Floor stretched out below her, the towns and forests nothing more than tiny specks in the distance. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink, and casting long shadows across the mountain range.

But it wasn't the view that had her attention. Nestled against the side of the mountain was a small, weathered hut. Its wooden beams were old and worn, the roof slightly crooked as if it had weathered countless storms. Smoke curled lazily from the chimney, and the faint glow of firelight flickered through the small windows. The place exuded a sense of ancient wisdom, as though it had been standing there for centuries, untouched by the world below.

Strawberry approached the hut, her footsteps crunching on the gravel beneath her boots. Muffin remained tense on her shoulder, but he seemed less afraid now that they had reached their destination. The door to the hut was slightly ajar, creaking as the wind brushed against it.

With a soft knock, Strawberry pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The interior of the hut was simple but cozy. A small fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the walls. The room was sparsely furnished—a low wooden table, a few cushions for seating, and shelves lined with jars of herbs and strange trinkets. The scent of burning incense filled the air, earthy and calming.

Sitting cross-legged near the fire was the old man she remembered from the beta—the quest NPC, the master of the Martial Arts skill. His white beard flowed down to his chest, and his skin was weathered and wrinkled with age, though his eyes were sharp and clear. He wore simple robes, and despite his frail appearance, there was an undeniable strength in his posture—a quiet power that spoke of a lifetime of battle and training.

Without looking up, the old man spoke. His voice was deep and gravelly, carrying a weight of authority that made Strawberry straighten her posture instinctively. "You've come far," he said, his eyes still closed in meditation. "Few make it to my doorstep, but are you prepared to face your inadequacy?"

Strawberry nodded her head, though she doubted he could see. "Yes, master. I am ready to improve on my swordmanship."

At that, the old man opened his eyes and fixed her with a piercing gaze. "Ah, an eager pupil. You are ready for what lies ahead, then."

She nodded. "Yes master."

The old man's lips curled into a faint smile. "We shall see." He rose to his feet with surprising grace for someone so old, and beckoned for her to follow him outside.

Once they were outside, the old man led Strawberry to the familiar sight she had been expecting—a massive rock, about two meters high and 1.5 meters wide, sitting at the edge of the plateau. The rock was smooth and solid, as if it had been carved from a single slab of stone, and even from a distance, Strawberry could tell it was no ordinary boulder. Its surface shimmered faintly in the fading light, almost like an Immortal Object.

The master turned to her, his expression serious. "The basics is essential in every martial artists," he said, gesturing toward the rock. "You must split this stone using only your palms."

Strawberry stepped closer to the rock, running her hands along its cool surface. It felt solid, unyielding. This wasn't just about physical strength. It was a test of will, of focus. In the beta, it had taken her hours to crack the rock, and she had barely managed to do it then. Now, in this death game, it felt even more daunting.

But she had come this far. She wasn't turning back now.

The old man reached into his robes and pulled out a small pot of quick-drying paint. Strawberry sighed, knowing what was coming next. With swift, practiced strokes, the master painted whiskers on her face, his expression unreadable as he worked. Once he finished, he stepped back and nodded.

"These whiskers," he said with a hint of amusement in his voice, "cannot be removed until you split the rock. Consider them a mark of your commitment."

Strawberry rolled her eyes but kept her focus on the task ahead. She could feel Muffin shifting nervously on her shoulder, clearly unsure of what was happening.

With a deep breath, she placed her palms against the cool surface of the rock. It was time to focus.

The old man watched silently as she prepared herself. This was no ordinary challenge. She couldn't rely on brute strength or her sword to solve this problem. This required her to channel her energy, to find the strength within herself to break something that seemed unbreakable.