Finally, the rematch with the Kobold Lord. We've reached the climax of the early game, but I can't exactly say we're ready to charge full speed ahead. That's the tough part.
Skills
Katana: Grants a bonus to katana weapons, enabling katana-specific sword skills.
Dance: Allows the creation and loading of dance data for automated performance.
Language Deciphering: Enables reading of otherwise indecipherable languages. Proficiency increases allow deciphering one additional language per level.
Items
Fire Spirit Orb: A sphere containing an artificially created fire spirit, developed as a heating device in the magical nation of Sandriana, where snow blankets the land for half the year.
Spirit Bow Akatsuki: A legendary bow from a mythical Far Eastern island nation. Forged in sacred flames and blessed by the pure dawn, it is said to imbue its wielder with hidden power.
Red-Black Patterned Fruit: Despite its toxic-looking red-black pattern, this fruit is sweet and juicy, completely free of poison. Its deceptive appearance fools the ignorant, who shy away from its delicious taste.
When Sinon touched the boss room door, a red "6" appeared. According to Dyawolf, it signifies the number of parties allowed in the boss fight.
Just like in SAO, boss battles are typically tackled in raids. Sure, some black-clad loner supposedly soloed a boss, and ZOO took down the Southern Dungeon boss with just six members plus a few extras, but those are jaw-dropping anomalies from the developers' perspective.
In DBO, boss fights come with a party limit. For the Northern Dungeon boss, it's six parties—36 players max. The strategy meeting gathered 32 players: 5 parties of 6, plus 2 stragglers. So, who are the odd ones out?
One's me, obviously. Unfortunately, Diavel and Sinon were snapped up by a four-person party right after the meeting. They tried to decline, but I signaled them to accept with some frantic gesturing. It makes sense—publicly, we're not allies, and after that fiasco with someone stealing the spotlight, I'm the guy who bashed beta testers. Teaming with Sinon, an open beta tester, would look suspicious.
So, I'm stuck with the other solo player: a soy-sauce-faced guy, probably pushing 30, standing beside me.
"Hm. First time this deep in the Northern Dungeon," he says. "As the intel suggested, soloing it would be tough."
"Y-Yeah," I reply.
His name's Jack Smith, a classic English first-and-last-name combo. What's shocking is his gear: a rifle, of all things, leaving other players dumbfounded. It's a wooden-barreled firearm capable of three-round bursts, as he showed me before we teamed up. For someone like Sinon, who made her name in GGO, it's drool-worthy.
But Smith calls the rifle "utterly impractical." It eats up two precious weapon slots, offers no proficiency bonuses, and requires the rare Firearms skill—apparently a hidden skill he stumbled upon in an event.
"Distance falloff is worse than arrows, and Ranged Decay slashes its power further," he explained. "Raising gun proficiency or the Firearms skill doesn't boost damage. Ammo's expensive, limited, and reloading takes forever."
So why use it? The rifle barely consumes stamina—or if it does, recovery offsets it. Smith's fighting style mixes close-quarters scimitar work with quick trigger pulls for near-to-mid-range attacks, minimizing falloff and Ranged Decay while maintaining accuracy. His Nameless Rifle auto-reloads 30 rounds, but after that, he manually loads Crude Iron Bullets from storage. Only 60 bullets total, unlike arrows, which auto-replenish up to a quiver's limit.
The discovery of guns in DBO is a game-changer. But a weapon that ignores stats for consistent damage feels like a trap from Kayaba's successor, waiting to spring on some gun-obsessed party. I doubt low-level players would sacrifice two weapon slots for a gun that needs high STR and TEC to stabilize recoil anyway.
"You seemed brave," Smith says, eyeing me, "but are you shy with strangers?"
We're trailing Diavel and Sinon's safe route through the Northern Dungeon, the two of us stragglers at the rear. Other players chatter, but it doesn't ease my first-meeting jitters. Smith's not overly talkative, but enough to expose my social awkwardness. I can't let him suspect the meeting was staged. Sweating internally, I dodge his probing gaze.
"What kind of boss is this, with only 36 players allowed?" he muses, shifting focus.
I nod, relieved. It's a fair question. In SAO, the cap was 48 players—eight parties of six. DBO's stricter limit suggests a weaker boss. The Southern Dungeon boss fell to one party, so maybe Kayaba's successor made the starting area easier.
"No use overthinking it," Smith says. "Our job's not the boss—it's keeping mobs off the main force as skirmishers."
"Y-Yeah, let's do this," I stammer.
An hour or two later, we reach the safe zone—a church-like area brimming with artificial serenity. I recall the paintings here: one clearly depicted the Kobold King, but what about that insect-like skeleton? A hint, maybe, but I haven't pieced it together and hesitate to mention it. That "wedge" from the hologram's message nags at me too.
"Everyone, the boss lies ahead!" Dyawolf's voice cuts through my thoughts, launching his pre-battle speech.
"This is a turning point—for us and the nearly 8,000 players trapped in this death game. Your actions will shape their future. But fear not—we will win! Not a single one of us will fall!"
The players raise fists, roaring with courage. It's nostalgic—SAO had similar pre-boss rallying cries. I feel a pang of déjà vu. Defeating a boss without losses wasn't a fantasy in SAO. It's possible here too.
Our levels are high enough. ZOO supplied ample recovery items. The only worry is the lack of confirmed boss intel. Rare drops go to their earners, and while last-attack bonuses might spark greed, no one's likely to backstab teammates for them. For Smith and me, as skirmishers, our odds are slim anyway.
The boss room's automatic door slides open, and 32 players pour in. Candelabras flare, illuminating every corner. On a throne of crushed robots, pierced by steel beams, the Kobold King's corpse twitches.