Sword Art Online Aincrad - VOL 2

CHAPTER 1

After a rushed morning coffee—thank goodness this exists in Aincrad—serenaded by the music of the water wheel's rhythmic thumping, I changed into my blacksmith's uniform, inspecting myself in the full-length mirror on the wall.

Though I considered it a uniform, it was closer to a waitress outfit than heavy smithing garb. There was a cypress-brown top with puffed sleeves and a flared skirt in the same tone. I wore a white apron over that, with a red ribbon on the chest.

The outfit wasn't my own design. A friend of mine had arranged it, another girl the same age who often visited the shop to buy equipment. She claimed that heavy clothes didn't suit my baby face, and while I'd originally wanted her to mind her own business, it was true that my business had doubled since I started wearing this. So while it wasn't really my first choice, I'd been using it ever since.

Her advice didn't stop at clothes. She fiddled with my hair at every opportunity—it was currently set to an aggressively pink color in a short cut. Once again, though, the reactions from others suggested that it was working for me.

I'm Lisbeth the blacksmith, and I was fifteen when I first logged in to SAO. People thought I was younger than I looked back in the real world, and that pattern only grew more pronounced here. What I saw in the mirror was pink hair, large eyes with dark blue irises, and a petite nose and mouth that, combined with the apron dress, made me look like a little doll.

I was a serious student in the real world with little interest in fashion, which only made the dichotomy stronger. Even though I've gotten used to my new look recently, my personality has always been the same. Every once in a while, I can't help but snap at a customer, which always elicits shock.

I double-checked my equipment and exited the store, flipping over the CLOSED sign. I flashed the players waiting for entrance a dazzling smile and said, "Good morning, and welcome!" This was another thing I'd only recently gotten used to doing.

It had always been a dream of mine to run my own business, but even inside a video game, dreams and reality are very different beasts. I'd had more than enough experience with the difficulty of meeting customer demand from the moment I started selling in the street and living out of an inn bedroom.

My first lesson: If you're not good at smiling, make up for it with quality. In retrospect, the decision to focus on raising my Weaponcrafting skill at the expense of everything else was a wise one, as many of my repeat customers vouched for the quality of my weapons, even after I moved into my permanent storefront.

After I greeted all the customers, I left the business end up to my NPC employee and retreated into the workshop behind the storefront. I had about ten orders for custom equipment that needed to be fulfilled within the day.

Pulling the lever on the wall activated the bellows hooked up to the water wheel. That sent air into the furnace and set the grindstone spinning. I pulled an expensive metal ingot out of my inventory and tossed it into the burning furnace. Once it had absorbed enough heat, I pulled it out with tongs and set it atop the anvil. I got down on one knee, favorite hammer in hand, and selected the item to be produced from a pop-up menu. After a specified number of whacks with the hammer, the metal would turn into the desired item. There wasn't really any technique to it; the quality of the finished weapon would vary at random, but I chose to believe that the concentration of the blacksmith during the process affected the result. So I focused all my nerves on the ingot as I slowly raised the hammer. Just as I was about to strike the very first blow—

"Morning, Liz!"

"Aaah!"

The door of the workshop slammed open and my swing went wide. Instead of the ingot, I hit the corner of the anvil. Sparks flew everywhere as a pathetic clang echoed throughout the room.