The morning sun shone through the curtains of the Arima family home.
"Masaki! Breakfast!"
"Coming, Mother!"
Arima Masaki finished the final sentence of his homework before closing his notebook.
Another day, another routine.
School in the morning. Training at Genzo's dojo in the afternoon. Writing in the evening.
And somewhere in between, he had to make sure he ate enough, slept properly, and endured his mother's endless affection.
It was a busy life, but Masaki had no intention of slowing down.
After all, his novel was about to be published.
And if he wanted to build a future for himself and his mother, he needed to keep moving forward.
"Masaki, why are you staring into space? Your breakfast is getting cold!"
"I'm thinking about my schedule."
"You can think after eating!"
Shiori placed another serving of food in front of him.
Masaki looked at the additional portion.
"Mother, I already have enough."
"Nonsense! You're growing!"
"I'm not going to grow taller just because you keep putting food on my plate."
"How would you know? Maybe this is the secret!"
Masaki stared at her.
Shiori smiled sweetly.
He eventually gave up arguing and continued eating.
His mother was impossible to defeat in certain areas.
Unfortunately, those areas included feeding him and hugging him.
Over the following weeks, Masaki continued balancing his responsibilities.
At school, he paid attention to his lessons and completed his assignments. His classmates had gradually grown accustomed to his calm personality, although his striking crimson hair and deep-red eyes still attracted plenty of attention.
Kenji, in particular, had developed a habit of dragging him into conversations whenever they had free time.
"Masaki! Have you heard? There's a new game coming out!"
"Not interested."
"You haven't even heard what it's about!"
"Does it interfere with my schedule?"
Kenji stared at him.
"…You're impossible."
Masaki smiled faintly.
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment!"
Despite their differences, Masaki enjoyed spending time with his friend. He simply refused to let distractions interfere with his goals.
Once school ended, he headed straight to Genzo's dojo.
And there, his progress became increasingly difficult to ignore.
"Again!"
Masaki stepped forward and threw a jab.
His fist snapped toward the training target before immediately returning to guard.
"Again!"
Another jab.
"Again!"
Masaki repeated the movement.
His breathing remained controlled, his posture stable, and his eyes focused.
Genzo watched carefully.
Several months earlier, Masaki had been a small child with extraordinary physical potential but little formal training. Now, his movements were becoming increasingly coordinated.
His footwork had improved. His balance was more reliable. His reflexes had sharpened, and he was beginning to understand how to generate force without wasting unnecessary movement.
Most noticeably, his physique was changing.
His shoulders had become firmer, his arms more defined, and his legs noticeably stronger. His once-soft childlike build was gradually developing into a lean, athletic frame.
He wasn't suddenly becoming a fully grown warrior. He was still a young boy, and his body had plenty of growing left to do.
Nevertheless, the difference was obvious.
His Fanalis bloodline seemed to reward every hour of disciplined training.
His legs were particularly remarkable.
During sprinting exercises, Masaki accelerated with explosive power, covering the distance far faster than Genzo expected from a child his age.
His stamina was improving as well. He could complete increasingly demanding exercises without losing his concentration, although Genzo still made him rest when necessary.
"Stop there," the old master ordered.
Masaki immediately halted.
Genzo approached him, examining his stance.
"Your strength is improving, but don't let that go to your head."
"I won't."
"Good. Having powerful legs doesn't automatically make you a good fighter. If your balance is poor, your opponent can exploit it. If your technique is sloppy, you'll waste your strength."
"I understand."
"Then show me."
Genzo demonstrated a short combination involving a step, a jab, and a controlled retreat.
Masaki watched closely.
He copied the movement.
His first attempt was slightly awkward.
"Your weight is too far forward," Genzo corrected. "You'll lose your balance if someone pushes you."
Masaki adjusted his stance and tried again.
Better.
"Again."
He repeated it.
"Again."
Another repetition.
After several attempts, the movement became smoother.
Genzo nodded.
"That's more like it."
Masaki wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Master, may I ask something?"
"What?"
"If my physical abilities continue improving at this rate, how should I train to make the best use of them?"
Genzo narrowed his eyes.
It was the sort of question he expected from an experienced student, not a child who had only recently begun formal martial arts training.
But Masaki was different.
He wasn't satisfied with merely being strong. He wanted to understand how to use his strength properly.
"First, you keep learning the basics," Genzo answered. "You build your balance, coordination, timing, and judgment. Then we gradually introduce more advanced techniques. You don't get to skip the foundations just because you have a powerful body."
Masaki nodded.
"Understood."
"And remember this, boy. Strength is useful, but knowing when not to use it is just as important."
Masaki considered those words carefully.
"I'll remember that."
Genzo grunted.
"Good. Now, ten more rounds of footwork."
Masaki sighed internally.
His master certainly knew how to ruin a thoughtful moment.
Still, he obeyed.
As the training continued, Genzo watched him with quiet satisfaction.
The boy's talent was extraordinary.
But his discipline was what impressed the old master most.
If Masaki continued developing at this pace, his future in martial arts could become truly remarkable.
That evening, Masaki returned home, washed up, ate dinner, and finished his schoolwork.
Only then did he settle at his desk to work on Sword Art Online.
The manuscript had already passed through Silver Leaf Publishing's initial editing process, but there were still revisions to complete.
His assigned editor, Sato, had provided feedback on several passages, suggesting adjustments to the pacing and asking Masaki to clarify certain scenes.
Masaki reviewed each suggestion carefully.
Some changes improved the story.
Others required discussion.
He wasn't stubborn enough to reject every criticism, but neither would he accept a change simply because someone suggested it. If he disagreed, he explained his reasoning and considered alternatives.
Fortunately, Sato had been impressed by his professionalism.
Their collaboration had been productive.
Just as Masaki finished revising a passage, the telephone rang downstairs.
"Masaki! It's Silver Leaf Publishing!"
He immediately went downstairs.
Shiori handed him the receiver, her eyes already sparkling with excitement.
"Hello, this is Arima Masaki."
"Good evening, Masaki. It's Sato."
"Good evening, Sato-san. Is there anything else we need to discuss about the manuscript?"
"Actually, yes. We're finalizing the details for the first volume, and there's one important question we haven't settled."
"What is it?"
"Your pen name."
Masaki paused.
"My pen name?"
"That's right. Your real name can be included in the contract, but we'd like to know what name you'd prefer to appear on the cover and in promotional materials."
Masaki leaned back slightly.
He had considered this possibility before.
Publishing under his real name wasn't necessarily a problem, but a pen name offered a degree of privacy. It would also allow him to establish a recognizable identity as a writer, separate from his ordinary life as a student.
More importantly, he wanted a name that meant something to him.
Something connected to his Fanalis bloodline.
Something readers might remember.
He looked at his reflection in the darkened window.
Crimson hair.
Deep-red eyes.
The extraordinary physical power that had begun emerging through his training.
Then a name came to mind.
"Akajishi."
There was a brief silence.
"Akajishi?" Sato repeated.
"Yes. I'd like to publish the novel under the pen name Akajishi."
"That's a striking name. May I ask why you chose it?"
Masaki smiled faintly.
"It's inspired by my red hair. The name combines aka, meaning red, and jishi, meaning lion. I like the idea of a red lion."
He didn't explain the full significance of his Fanalis bloodline.
That was something he preferred to keep to himself.
But the name felt right.
A lion represented strength, courage, and pride.
Red represented his distinctive appearance and the extraordinary lineage he had inherited.
Together, they formed a name that reflected the path he intended to walk.
Sato seemed pleased.
"Akajishi. I like it. It's memorable, and it has a strong sound. I think it'll work well on a book cover."
"Thank you."
"Then we'll prepare the cover and promotional materials using Akajishi as your author name. We'll send you the final design for review."
"I look forward to seeing it."
After they discussed a few remaining details, the call ended.
Masaki returned the receiver to its cradle.
Shiori was practically vibrating with curiosity.
"Akajishi?"
"Yes."
"That's your pen name?"
"Yes, Mother."
She pressed her hands against her cheeks.
"My son has a pen name now!"
"Mother, it's just a name."
"No, no! This is important! One day, people might recognize that name everywhere!"
Masaki shook his head.
"You're getting ahead of yourself."
"I'm being optimistic!"
She immediately pulled him into a hug.
"Akajishi, the genius author! It sounds wonderful!"
Masaki sighed, but he couldn't stop himself from smiling.
He had chosen the name because it represented something meaningful to him.
Now, for the first time, it would appear in the real world.
Soon, readers would encounter the name Akajishi on a book cover.
They wouldn't know the identity behind it.
They wouldn't know that the author was a young boy who attended school, trained at a modest dojo, and spent his evenings writing.
They would simply know the story.
And that was exactly how Masaki wanted it.
Four Months Later
The morning of publication finally arrived.
Four months had passed since Masaki and Shiori first sat across from the editors at Silver Leaf Publishing.
During that time, Masaki had continued attending school, training at Genzo's dojo, and working with Sato to prepare the novel for release.
There had been revisions, proofreading, cover approvals, and several discussions about the final presentation.
Shiori had followed every stage with almost unbearable excitement.
And now, the finished book sat in her hands.
The cover featured a mysterious fantasy world, with a towering floating castle rising into the sky.
Across the front were the words:
SWORD ART ONLINE
Beneath the title, printed clearly for everyone to see, was the author's pen name.
AKAJISHI
Shiori stared at the book.
Then she turned it over.
Then she looked at the front again.
"Masaki…"
He stood beside her, wearing his school uniform.
"Yes, Mother?"
"It's real."
"Yes."
"It's actually real!"
She hugged the book to her chest.
"My son is a published author!"
Masaki looked at the printed cover.
For several seconds, he remained silent.
He had remembered the story from his previous life. He had written it, revised it, and worked through the publishing process.
Yet holding the finished volume was different.
This wasn't a memory.
It wasn't an idea.
It was a physical book that would be placed on shelves and read by people who had never heard of him.
A story from his previous life had become a new creation in this world.
And it was only the beginning.
Shiori held the book toward him.
"Come on! Hold it properly! We need to remember this moment!"
Masaki accepted the volume.
She immediately took several pictures.
"One more!"
"Mother, you've already taken six."
"This is a historic occasion!"
"It's a book release."
"Exactly!"
Masaki gave up trying to argue.
He stood beside his mother while she continued taking photographs, her smile brighter than he had seen in a long time.
For all his ambitions, that expression alone made the months of effort worthwhile.
The First Readers
That afternoon, copies of Sword Art Online appeared in bookstores across the city.
At first, the release attracted only modest attention.
It was a new fantasy novel from a relatively small publisher, written by an author no one had heard of before.
There were no famous names attached to it.
No established fan base.
No guarantee of success.
But the cover was eye-catching, and the premise printed on the back caught the attention of a few curious readers.
Among them was a high school student named Daichi.
Daichi considered himself a serious fantasy enthusiast. His bedroom was filled with novels, game guides, and notebooks containing his own attempts at creating fictional worlds.
He had a reputation among his friends for being difficult to impress.
When he picked up Sword Art Online, he initially assumed it would be another ordinary adventure novel.
Then he read the blurb.
Thousands of players enter a virtual reality game. They discover they cannot log out. Death in the game means death in the real world. Their only escape is to clear one hundred floors.
Daichi stared at the book.
"…Hold on."
He read the description again.
"That's actually a pretty insane premise."
He flipped the book over and examined the author's name.
Akajishi.
He had never heard of the author.
That only made him more curious.
"Fine. I'll give it a chance."
He paid for the book and headed home.
By evening, his bedroom door was closed, his phone was silenced, and his usual gaming session had been abandoned.
He was reading.
And reading.
And reading.
At one point, his younger brother knocked on the door.
"Daichi! Are you coming to play?"
"Not now!"
"Why?"
"I'm busy!"
"With what?"
Daichi stared at the page.
"…Surviving."
His brother slowly backed away.
"Okay…"
Hours later, Daichi finally reached the end of the volume.
He lowered the book.
His hair was a mess, his eyes were wide, and his expression suggested he had just witnessed something extraordinary.
Then he sat upright.
"WHAT?!"
He flipped back several pages.
"No way! No way, no way, no way!"
He stared at the final page.
The story had left him wanting more.
Much more.
Daichi grabbed his phone and opened the group chat he shared with his closest friends.
Daichi: GUYS.
Daichi: I JUST FOUND A NEW FANTASY NOVEL.
Ren: You say that every week.
Daichi: NOT LIKE THIS ONE.
Kenta: What's it called?
Daichi: SWORD ART ONLINE. THE AUTHOR'S NAME IS AKAJISHI.
Ren: Never heard of it.
Daichi: THAT'S WHAT I THOUGHT TOO. BUT THE PREMISE IS INSANE.
He typed out a lengthy explanation of the story.
A few minutes later, Ren replied.
Ren: So if they die in the game, they die in real life?
Daichi: YES.
Kenta: That's brutal.
Daichi: AND THEY HAVE TO CLEAR ONE HUNDRED FLOORS TO ESCAPE.
Ren: Okay, that actually sounds interesting.
Daichi: INTERESTING? BRO, I FINISHED THE BOOK AND IMMEDIATELY WANTED THE NEXT ONE.
Kenta: I'll look for it tomorrow.
Daichi leaned back against his bed.
He had discovered something special.
And he wasn't going to keep it to himself.
Across the city, a university student named Yui was browsing the fantasy section of a bookstore.
Unlike Daichi, Yui preferred stories with strong characters and emotional relationships. She enjoyed adventure novels, but she often abandoned books that relied entirely on battles without giving their characters room to breathe.
She noticed Sword Art Online on a display shelf.
The cover caught her attention first.
Then the blurb.
"A game where you can actually die…"
She frowned thoughtfully.
"That sounds terrifying."
Curiosity won.
She bought the novel and began reading on her train ride home.
By the time she reached her station, she had barely noticed the journey.
She stepped onto the platform, walked toward the exit, and then stopped.
"…Wait. I need to know what happens next."
She immediately found a bench and continued reading.
A few minutes later, she was so absorbed that she nearly missed a message from her friend.
Mika: Are you still coming over?
Yui looked at the message.
Then at the book.
Then back at the message.
Yui: I'll be late.
Mika: Why?
Yui: I found a novel.
Mika: You're always finding novels.
Yui: THIS ONE IS DIFFERENT.
By the time Yui reached home, she had already become invested in the characters.
She loved the tension of the premise, but what fascinated her most was how the characters reacted to their situation.
They weren't simply playing a game anymore.
They were trying to survive.
Their choices mattered, their fears felt understandable, and their relationships carried emotional weight.
Yui found herself imagining what she would do if she were trapped in such a world.
Would she fight?
Would she hide?
Would she trust other players?
The questions followed her even after she closed the book.
That night, she posted on an online reading forum.
Yui: I picked up a new fantasy novel today called Sword Art Online by Akajishi. I expected a simple game adventure, but the premise is so much more intense than I anticipated. I finished it in one sitting. Does anyone know when the next volume is coming out?
Within an hour, several people had replied.
One had already purchased a copy.
Another wanted to know where she had found it.
A third asked whether the novel was worth the price.
Yui answered immediately.
Yui: Absolutely. If you enjoy fantasy, suspense, and characters trying to survive impossible circumstances, give it a chance.
She smiled at the screen.
Perhaps it was too early to call the novel a masterpiece.
But she knew one thing.
She wanted to read more.
The first few days after publication were modest.
Copies sold here and there. Some readers discovered the book by chance, while others purchased it after hearing recommendations from friends.
Then something interesting happened.
People began talking about it.
At a local gaming club, a group of young men argued about whether they would survive in Aincrad.
"I'd absolutely make it," one declared confidently.
His friend snorted.
"You'd die on the first floor."
"Excuse me?"
"You panic when your internet disconnects."
"That's completely different!"
A girl sitting nearby raised her book.
"Both of you would probably die arguing."
The entire table burst into laughter.
But beneath the jokes, their enthusiasm was genuine.
They discussed strategies, imagined the challenges of clearing the castle, and debated what kind of person could survive in a world where death was permanent.
One reader had already begun recommending the novel to everyone he knew.
Another had bought a second copy as a gift for his younger sister.
A third had returned to the bookstore to ask when the next volume would arrive.
At school, students who had never spoken to one another found themselves discussing the same story.
Some loved the premise.
Others were fascinated by the characters.
Several simply wanted to know what would happen next.
And for a small but growing group of readers, Akajishi became a name worth remembering.
Meanwhile, Masaki remained unaware of most of the conversations surrounding his novel.
His daily routine had barely changed.
He still attended school.
He still trained at Genzo's dojo.
And he still spent his evenings writing.
The only difference was that a copy of Sword Art Online now rested on his desk.
Sometimes, after finishing his homework, he would pick it up and look at the cover.
The name Akajishi seemed strangely unfamiliar.
Yet it belonged to him.
One evening, Genzo noticed the book sticking out of Masaki's schoolbag.
"What's that?"
"My novel."
Genzo stared at him.
"Your what?"
"My novel. It was published recently."
The old master took the book and examined the cover.
He turned it over.
Read the title.
Then looked at Masaki.
"You wrote this?"
"Yes."
Genzo remained silent.
Finally, he grunted.
"Hmph. So you're training to become a writer as well as a martial artist?"
"I suppose you could say that."
"Then you'd better make sure neither gets neglected."
"I won't."
Genzo returned the book.
After a brief pause, he added, "Bring me a copy sometime. I want to see what you've been spending your evenings doing."
Masaki blinked.
"You want to read it?"
"Don't look so surprised, boy. Even an old man can read."
"I didn't say otherwise."
"Good. Now get back to training."
Masaki smiled and returned to his stance.
His body was becoming stronger.
His martial arts were improving.
His novel was finally reaching readers.
And somewhere beyond the walls of the dojo, people were beginning to discover the world he had created.
For now, it was only a small beginning.
But every great journey had to start somewhere.
And the name Akajishi had finally entered the world.
End of Chapter 10