Chapter 3: To a World of Swords and Sorcery

In the end, a whole week passed without me ever facing my family. My mother looked like she wanted to say something, but in the end she seemed to choose to simply watch over me. To cover up the guilt I felt about that, I tried to keep up at least some form of communication by sending frequent messages.

Ever since summer vacation started, I had been going to the library during the day, or sneaking over to the shrine when the priest wasn’t around, looking into things—but I couldn’t find any information beyond what I already knew from that kitten. To be honest, I was completely stuck.

The faint hope I’d been clinging to—something like “maybe it’ll go back to normal with time”—of course never happened. All I could do was sit there, head in my hands, glaring at my phone.

『When do you think you’ll be able to join in? If the level gap gets too wide, we won’t be able to run together, you know』

It had already been four days since the official launch of the online game called “Aether Frontier,” the one I’d been invited to play. My friends, who had dived in the moment summer break began, must have been enjoying that world of swords and magic to their hearts’ content. The email they sent me on the first day, brimming with excitement, made their mood perfectly clear.

Originally, I’d planned to dive in on day one too, using “getting hooked on a game and never leaving my room” as my excuse. But while I was setting things up to launch it, I realized something critical.

Yes—this world’s first full-immersion online game, “Aether Frontier,” doesn’t allow you to change gender or body type.

　　　Online★Communication
　　　　　　　　Contact.00-3 『To a World of Swords and Sorcery』

Apparently, even though the system’s safety had been verified, they hadn’t secured a big enough technical safety margin when it came to how much long-term use of such a game, with drastic changes to gender or physical sensation, might affect reality. For that reason, they had locked down that feature. Supposedly it would be unlocked sometime in the future after enough observation, but since it required time to pass, the chances of such an update happening within this year were virtually zero.

The issue, then, was how they confirmed this. If it was only based on the personal info you provided when registering an account, then it would be no problem for me, since I had registered as male. But according to the info, the check was done through the headset itself. It measured your body with a full-body scan, did simple hormone level tests, and other such things to determine gender and physique. Faking either wasn’t impossible, but it certainly wasn’t easy.

I investigated in the hopes of finding some loophole, but most of the supposed tricks people talked about online were so dubious they weren’t even worth trying. Occasionally, I’d see posts about actual misreadings or glitches, but they moved so fast I couldn’t keep track. And if I wanted to deliberately replicate one of those errors, the only methods even remotely feasible were things like injecting yourself with estrogen or testosterone—way too difficult and dangerous to pull off. I wouldn’t even know how to obtain such things, and thinking of the risks afterward terrified me.

And so, days passed with me racking my brains but never finding a way through. I kept making excuses like “I’m stuck on character creation” or “I’m not feeling well.” Of course, half-baked evasions like that only irritated them further. I could sense their frustration between the lines of their emails, and it almost made me want to cry.

It felt like I was nearing the limit of how long I could keep stalling. I even started to think maybe I should just cut off all contact and hole up in my room. But given the “incident” I had once caused after getting too cornered, all that would do is give my friends the perfect excuse to come barging in.

Of course, the main reason was that I didn’t want to make them worry. But at the same time, I couldn’t bring myself to reveal the truth either. My compromise was to maintain contact without showing my face. If only I had the brains to come up with a better solution, or the boldness to just throw caution to the wind… but it was pointless to wish for what I didn’t have.

When I first came up with this, I never thought it was a “good idea”… but I still felt like it might somehow work out. Maybe that’s just how momentum clouds your judgment. Like trying to count your profits before you even catch a raccoon—you can’t do the math if you don’t even have the animal. I felt like I was just wandering aimlessly through the mountains with no path in sight.

『I’m not gonna force you, but if you’re really feeling sick, just say so, okay? Your mom was worried about you』

And that was when Eiji played his trump card in a message. The only reason Mom had chosen to watch silently was because I was still keeping up with my friends. As long as I had the “at least he’s hanging out with his buddies online” buffer, she wouldn’t press me too hard. Which meant that joining the VRMMO was basically unavoidable, if only to keep that excuse alive…

『Hey, you there? Don’t tell me you collapsed or something』

If this had been aimed at me directly, it would’ve been far too on the nose. As I lay face down on my bed in self-loathing, my phone buzzed accusingly in my hand. With trembling fingers, I typed back a reply.

『I’m fine, just collapsed from self-loathing a bit』

『What the hell is that supposed to mean』

And so, today became the day of my fate. Cornered into silence, I finally gave in and told them I’d be logging in soon. The “stalling policy” had already long reached its limit, and with no more ways to escape, I had to at least prevent them from showing up in person.

So what was I going to do? My only hope lay in the existence of bugs. Not in using them, but in using the fact they existed. I’d log in, claim “Some weird bug messed me up like this, hahaha, isn’t that crazy?” Perfect plan, right? Like autumn leaves reddened and gnawed ragged by insects preparing for winter—absolutely flawless.

Ahh… how hollow. Chewing over the strange feelings rising in my chest, I set the headgear onto my head, lowered the visor, and lay down on my bed. I’d tried immersive games before, but only the kind that didn’t go beyond 3D stereoscopic graphics. What exactly would a “full-immersion” game feel like?

One of my other friends had described it as “basically, a device that lets you dream in a way that’s nearly indistinguishable from reality.” The technical explanation flew over my head, and since he tended to ramble once he got excited, I’d mostly just tuned it out. Booting up the installed software on my PC, I followed the manual: log in, leave the program waiting, and switch on the headset.

An instant of floating—and then everything went pitch black. Suddenly, a flash of light seared my eyes like a camera flash. When I opened them again, I was standing before a pure white altar floating in the sky. A marble angel holding scales smiled serenely down at me. Looking down revealed a sea of clouds. Looking up, the sky stretched into the edge of space, studded with glittering jewels like stars.

I flexed my hands and feet lightly. No particular discomfort. The sense of touch felt a little muted, but if this was like a realistic dream, it made sense. They said pain was heavily reduced here, so it was probably that effect. As I was checking the condition of my body, a translucent window suddenly popped up in front of me.

『Welcome to Aether Frontier. Character creation will now begin』

So it was finally starting. Even though, for me, this was a dire situation, I couldn’t help but feel a twinge of excitement, the way any boy would. Smiling wryly at myself, I felt a sense of relief too. After all, a game you can’t enjoy is nothing but suffering.

『Would you like to use external appearance data?』

This game had a feature where you could use modeling data created in advance with external software. Of course, with the restrictions on gender and body type, only appearance could be adjusted, and since it required specialized knowledge, you’d think not many people would bother. But surprisingly, quite a lot did. With cross-gender play banned, not just the men driven by their lower halves but even women longing for beauty at least within a game had gotten serious about it. Judging from the forums, many had been tinkering with the software long before launch.

I myself, for certain reasons, hadn’t wanted to use my real face as-is, so I had prepared a plain-looking model in advance. Since it was a male avatar I figured it wouldn’t work anyway, but with the tiniest spark of hope, I nervously chose “Use.” Pulling the external appearance data from my PC—

『The detected gender data does not match. The specified avatar cannot be used』

The system, however, had no intention of reading the room. It was determined to do its job. Unsure what to do, I started fumbling through the menu, planning to log out, remake the plainest possible appearance, and log back in.

『Would you like to use the registered scan data?』

"!?"

A window suddenly appeared in front of me, and before I knew it, I clicked the "Yes" button. A mistake so terrible, even for me.

『Next, we will proceed with character creation.
First, please decide your character’s name. After that, select your starting class, skills, and initial bonus.』

I tried everything I could think of to return to the previous selection, but nothing worked. I regretted not having read the manual properly, though it was far too late now. If I spent too much time fumbling here, Eiji would get annoyed waiting on me. I have a bit of a trauma when it comes to malice or hostility from others. Under normal circumstances I might be fine, but in this state, I wasn’t confident my heart could withstand anger directed at me from a friend.

I forced myself to accept that no matter what, I’d end up with a female avatar completely unlike my "real" self, and continued with the character creation. Nothing ever seemed to go the way I wanted. For the name, I chose "Sun," the same one I’d always used in other online games so my friends would recognize me easily. As planned, I selected "Enchanter" as my class, then arranged the skills and bonuses into a specialization that matched its aptitude.

According to the information I found on the wiki, the game currently had ten classes in total: four physical, four magical, and two crafting/life classes. Among the physical ones were attack-specialist, all-rounder, ranged type, and explorer type. The magical side had attack-specialist, all-rounder, healing/support, and buff/support. The Enchanter fell under that last category—unlike the holy magic of healers who strengthened themselves, Enchanters were masters of enchantments, imbuing equipment and tools with power.

The problem was, it was a pretty plain class, and its combat ability was even weaker than the Priest, the healing class. As a result, it was infamous as being brutal to play solo, and counted among the least popular choices. That didn’t mean it was useless or without demand, though—in fact, specialized enchanters were in such short supply that demand far outstripped availability.

After all, this was a world of swords and sorcery, so most players wanted to wield flashy spells or sword techniques. On top of that, there was currently only one character slot per account. Though more were planned, that was still far in the future. So hardly anyone chose a difficult class like this for their only character.

The reason I was drawn to this class was because I wanted to be of use to Eiji and the others. Being needed by someone made me happy. Even if it was just a game, that feeling didn’t change. In fact, maybe because it was just a game, I could enjoy that joy more purely, without the weight of expectations. In real life, I was nothing but a burden right now. So at least in this virtual world, I wanted to contribute to my friends. That was why I decided on this profession.

From what I learned during our talks before I finally gathered the resolve to log in, Eiji was playing a hardcore front-line swordsman, and our other friend had chosen the all-rounder mage class. They’d already formed a guild, secured a Priest, and were essentially just waiting for me to fill the Enchanter role. After dragging my feet despite saying I’d join, it was only natural for them to get impatient. I was filled with guilt over it, and I wanted to make it up to them by contributing as much as I could once I caught up in levels.

If things hadn’t turned out this way, I would probably already be adventuring alongside them, carefree. Still, I couldn’t regret trying to save that kitten, even if it had ended up leading to consequences far beyond what I could bear.

I accepted the bonus starter equipment and, with clumsy hands, opened the menu to equip it. A brief flash of light enveloped my body, and the hospital-gown-like outfit I’d been wearing was replaced by a simple coat-style robe in a calm shade of brown. It was one of the beginner outfits, apparently unisex, and thankfully came with pants underneath. The fabric even felt like soft cotton, with a good texture and surprisingly comfortable fit.

The weapon was a slim longsword, about sixty centimeters in blade length, something between a rapier and a stiletto. Since Enchanters had no offensive magic by default, I supposed this was what I was meant to fight with. But enchantments only boosted the item’s base stats, and with starting gear, that meant almost nothing. On top of that, being specialized in enchantments made my stats essentially those of a pure caster. The sheer pain of soloing like this was, as they said, all too easy to imagine.

Once I confirmed the equipment, the sword appeared hanging from my robe’s waist. Since no one was watching, I spun around once. The coat hem fluttered lightly. The smoothness of the movement was impressive; I could really see how much effort had gone into the graphics. I tried drawing the sword—only to feel its surprising weight. With this body, I’d practically have to wield it like a greatsword or risk being thrown off balance.

『Character creation is now complete. You will be transferred to the "Starting Town" ≪Esca≫.
In ≪Esca≫, you may accept tutorial quests from NPCs. Please make use of them.
And now, we wish you good adventures.』

The announcement displayed, then after a brief pause, my vision suddenly blacked out. Panicked, I looked around, and saw a loading icon blinking in the lower right corner. The manual had mentioned that the game was seamless except during server transfers—so the login server and play servers must be separate. During those few moments of transition, my mind wandered back to the sky I had seen in that place.

The sky stretched endlessly in a piercing shade of blue, crisscrossed by countless sailing ships. Commonly referred to as airships, they spun their many propellers as they lifted off majestically from what appeared to be an upper docking platform on the towering structure at the center of town.

Just like its title, Aether Frontier, this game was set in a world of countless floating continents drifting across the firmament. The main means of travel here were skybound—by airship or dragon.

The Starting Town ≪Esca≫ was both the initial transfer point and the city of airships. With multiple airports, it functioned as a hub connecting players to other lands. The atmosphere resembled Europe around the medieval to early modern period: rows of red-bricked rooftops, fan-shaped cobblestone streets neatly laid out, and, towering at the center, an enormous stone-brick spire styled like an airport. From its docking platforms, airships came and went even now.

As I gazed up at the proud vessels raising their sails and setting off into the vast sky, a strange emotion welled up in my chest, forcing me to bite my lip. Flying vehicles weren’t anything unusual in this day and age—modern ones were faster and far more comfortable. And yet, why was it that watching these ships depart filled me with such heat in my chest?

It was no wonder, then, that I lingered in place, staring blankly at the sky even after being transferred, and failed to notice the stares around me until it was too late. By the time I realized, I had already drawn the attention of nearby players. Curious glances, indulgent smiles, and probing stares tangled together, prickling against my skin. Thinking back, the gaming hardware alone cost as much as a brand-new high-end computer. And this body, based on my transformed appearance, stood at barely 130 centimeters tall at best. With these facial features, I’d be lucky if people thought I looked ten years old.

Only moments before this incident, I had finally grown into the 170s in height and, deep inside, had been quietly delighted. Now, I was avoiding the thought as though in denial—but reality pressed down on me. Whether bought by one’s own hand or given by parents, this game was far too expensive to hand to a child around ten years old. While there were many players on the smaller side, a character looking blatantly like an elementary-school-aged girl naturally drew attention.

In the real world, whenever I went out, I went out of my way to dress in ways that didn’t stand out—sometimes even in men’s clothing—and I avoided attention at all costs. Because of that, I had never really cared much. But to be stared at so openly by this many people—this was likely the first time. It felt strangely similar to being caught cross-dressing, and embarrassment surged through me. My cheeks flushed hot, and I lowered my face, hastening away from the plaza.

After pushing through the crowded square, I finally reached what looked like a quieter park. A glance behind reassured me: no ill-mannered players were following after a young girl avatar. Relief washed over me.

I felt utterly drained and dropped onto a nearby bench, tilting my head back toward the sky. Beyond the vast blue, I could faintly make out what seemed to be a massive continent floating in the distance. This world was enormous, and countless people must be inhabiting it. But starting off like this—could I really manage to get by here? The answer to that question still seemed far away.

It was only about thirty minutes later that I realized—I had completely forgotten to inform Eiji that I’d logged in.