Sword Art Online: Exiled Dragon Beater

A New Quest Begins

Jordan Tregle felt his heart pounding as he raced through the forest, his sword gleaming in his hands. He was in the middle of his favorite MMORPG, Sword Art Online, on the verge of challenging his favorite boss: Jen the Jade Dragon. The dragon's massive, emerald-scaled body shimmered in the virtual light as it roared, sending shockwaves through the clearing.

"Alright, Jen," Jordan muttered, grinning with excitement. "Show me what you got!"

He dodged the dragon's attack, rolling to the side and lunging forward to strike. Each swing of his blade was calculated, precise, even as Jen's claws swiped dangerously close. In SAO, Jordan had earned a reputation as a "Beater"—someone who had played in the beta and used that knowledge to his advantage. Though it made him a bit of an outcast, Jordan didn't mind. He loved the freedom of exploring on his own terms, taking on the game's toughest challenges solo.

Finally, with one final blow, Jen the Jade Dragon fell, dissipating into digital fragments. Jordan leaned back, watching the dragon's shards drift away, a huge smile on his face. "Yes! Still got it!" he cheered, pumping his fist.

As he logged out, Jordan's excitement lingered. He checked the clock. Late. He needed to head home before his parents started to worry.

Walking through the city streets with his headphones on, Jordan replayed the battle in his mind, already planning his next move in the game. But just as he crossed an empty intersection, a strange glow surrounded him. He paused, pulling off his headphones and looking around, confusion and curiosity mingling on his face.

"Whoa, what's—"

Before he could finish, the light intensified, and the world around him seemed to melt away. His stomach twisted as he was pulled into a swirling void of light and color, the ground vanishing beneath him.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, it stopped.

Jordan blinked, adjusting to the sudden brightness. He was no longer in the city. He found himself standing in the middle of a grand, ornate hall, with tall pillars lining the walls and banners draped in royal insignias. The hall was filled with people dressed in armor and robes, staring at him with a mix of awe and suspicion.

In front of him stood three others, each as dazed as he was. One wielded a shining bow, another a silver staff, and the last one held a gleaming shield. Jordan looked down, his jaw dropping as he noticed a shimmering, emerald-hued sword in his hand. The blade was etched with dragon scales, and as he held it, he could feel a surge of power coursing through him.

"Welcome, heroes!" boomed a voice from the far end of the hall.

Jordan looked up, spotting a tall, imposing man dressed in royal robes. A king, judging by his crown and regal demeanor. The man's gaze was stern, his eyes flicking between Jordan and the others with a calculating look.

"You have been summoned here to save our kingdom from a rising darkness," the king announced. "You, the Chosen Heroes, are our last hope. Each of you has been granted a sacred weapon with powers unique to you alone."

Jordan's eyes widened as he studied his sword more closely. It felt familiar, almost like an extension of himself. His excitement quickly outweighed his confusion, and he broke into a grin. He was in a real-life fantasy world, with powers like his character in SAO. This was a dream come true.

"Alright!" Jordan cheered, raising his sword. "Guess I'm here to help save the day!"

The other summoned heroes glanced at him, their expressions ranging from mild annoyance to outright disdain. One of them, a girl with the silver staff, scoffed.

"This isn't a game, you know," she muttered, eyeing him up and down. "Don't act like it's one."

Jordan's grin faltered a bit, but he shrugged it off, turning back to the king. "So, where do we start?"

The king's gaze lingered on Jordan, his expression darkening. He seemed to study Jordan with a mix of doubt and disapproval, especially as Jordan's carefree attitude became apparent.

"I see we have a... spirited one," the king said, his tone dripping with barely concealed irritation. "However, our world is no place for childish antics."

Jordan opened his mouth to protest, but before he could speak, a loud clanging echoed through the hall. Turning, he saw a line of people with shackles around their wrists and collars around their necks. They walked with their heads down, shoulders slumped, and he realized with horror that they weren't just ordinary people. Each of them had animal-like features: tails, scales, horns, or feathers.

"They are the Beastkin," the king said, noticing Jordan's shocked gaze. "They're forced to serve us, as is their place."

Jordan's face tightened, and he stepped forward. "Why are they...? That's not right! Why are they in chains?"

The hall went silent. The other heroes exchanged looks, but none of them said anything.

The king's face twisted in irritation. "They are creatures of lower stature, fit only for servitude. Our heroes would do well not to question the kingdom's practices."

Jordan's hands tightened around his sword. "I'm sorry, but that's just... wrong. They look just like us! You can't treat them like this."

The king's eyes narrowed. "You dare defy the wisdom of the crown?" His voice held a dangerous edge. "Perhaps this was a mistake."

Before Jordan could respond, the king turned to the guards. "Escort him from the hall. This boy lacks the discipline to be a true hero."

The guards stepped forward, grabbing Jordan by the arms. He struggled, looking desperately at the other heroes. "Wait! Guys, say something! This is wrong!"

But the other heroes averted their eyes, their silence speaking volumes. One of them even shrugged, mumbling, "If he can't take this seriously, then maybe he doesn't belong here."

Jordan's heart sank as the guards pushed him toward the grand doors at the hall's entrance. He barely had time to process what was happening before he was tossed outside, his sword still clutched tightly in his hand.

The doors slammed shut behind him, leaving him alone in the castle courtyard.

He looked around, bewildered and hurt. A real adventure, real hero work, and he was already cast out. Exiled. But as he looked at the sword in his hand, its dragon-shaped hilt glinting in the sunlight, determination flared within him.

"Fine," he muttered, straightening up. "If they don't want me here, I'll just have to do it my way."

With a last look at the castle, Jordan turned and walked away, setting off on a path unknown, a hero in exile—determined to find his purpose in this strange, new world.