The fight in the warehouse-turned-cult-center was as brutal and vicious as any Sam had seen through the ‘Gate. Its only saving grace was, it was fast.
They put together a pretty good plan, Sam recognized, watching streaks of blue-gold light zip from the shadows, taking down at least a half-dozen of the coffin-tattooed foes with the odd little box on their HP bar that meant paralyzed. Those would have been some of the most dangerous sentries, up in the beams and rafters, where the first heavy rush wouldn’t have been able to reach-
The tanks burst in, and the fast fighters sped in after them, and the warehouse turned into hell.
Oh god. So many of them are kids.
Those were the worst, hurling themselves at the crusaders with cackling glee. Dying almost as fast, but they took too many stunned fighters with them….
A final moan, and the last body shattered. The only sounds were the shush of waves, and the harsh breathing of exhausted survivors.
No blood. Sam hugged herself, chilled, as she watched Asuna and other guild leaders do a headcount of their people outside on the docks. Watching faces crumple, as they totaled up their losses; eleven crusaders dead, while at least twenty of Laughing Coffin had died rather than surrender. There should be so much blood.
Argo slipped out of the shadows like a wraith, nodding to Asuna and gripping Klein’s armored shoulder. “It’s your lucky day. You get two bits of info, free. First, Kirito had to kill two of the bastards. Second-” She glanced toward a thicker patch of shadows. “He’s right over there.”