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Dance of the Warrior Princess (Kirito TG) Part 2
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 21:00:03 +0000 UTCThe cavern shook with every stomp of the crystal centaur’s hooves, jagged shards of obsidian erupting from the ground in its wake. Kirara skidded back, her heels digging deep trenches into the stone as she braced for another impact. Her arms glistened with sweat, her chest rising and falling in steady, controlled breaths. Despite the scratches and scorch marks on her dancer’s garb, she held her war fans up like twin shields, unwavering.
“Master!” she shouted, parrying a downward glaive strike that would have split lesser warriors in two. “Its momentum is slowing!”
“I see it!” Klein called from across the battlefield, panting. His sword shimmered in the dim light, blade coated in the monster’s black ichor. “You good?”
Kirara smiled, her lips hidden behind her fluttering veil. “I am as I must be, for my master.”
With a guttural roar, the centaur reared up on its hind legs, magma pulsing from its chest crystal. It brought its front hooves down like hammers, but Kirara caught them. Her muscles surged with inhuman force as she held the beast in place, knees bending, veins bulging.
“NOW, Master Klein!”
Klein didn’t hesitate. He surged forward in a burst of speed, boots flashing across stone. The monster’s chest flared with energy, exposed and vulnerable for the briefest second.
“[Burning Crescent Slash]!”
His blade gleamed with fire, trailing a wide arc through the air as he leapt, spun, and brought the strike down in a single, decisive motion. The blade connected with the glowing crystal, shattering it with a thunderous crack.
The centaur screamed, light erupting from its body. It reared once more, then collapsed, dissolving into a storm of glowing particles.
Silence returned to the chamber.
Kirara stepped toward Klein, wincing slightly but still composed. “The battle is won, Master. You struck true.”
Klein lowered his sword, chest heaving. “Only because you tanked that thing like a mountain.”
Kirara bowed slightly. “I merely held the door. You walked through it.”
“Dungeon Cleared!”
The disembodied proclamation echoed off the stone, and a heavy treasure-chest shimmered into being where the monster had previously collapsed.
Klein exhaled, pushing sweat-damp hair from his brow, then promptly forgot to breathe. Kirara straightened, dusting crystal grit from her shoulders. Even after a bruising battle, she looked carved from midnight marble: two full meters of athletic elegance, muscles rolling like silk under sun-touched skin. Her dancer’s veil fluttered with each breath, hinting at a smile beneath. Loose obsidian hair, still glossy with perspiration, cascaded down her back in waves that caught the brazier-light. The battered war fans rested against her thigh, and her chest was so… impossibly full, impossibly firm. It rose and fell in a serene, deliberate cadence that made Klein’s pulse pound louder than the victory fanfare.
He swallowed. She just wrestled a magma-centaur and somehow looks ready for a magazine cover shoot.
Kirara’s golden eyes flicked to him, looking sparkly, playful, devastatingly aware. She cocked a hip, hands sliding behind her back in mock modesty.
“Master Klein,” she purred, voice a soft ribbon of mirth, “you are of course entitled to admire your servant as long as you please…” Her gaze darted to the ornate chest, then back to him. “But perhaps we should secure your spoils before the floor despawns beneath them?”
A crimson flush shot across Klein’s cheeks. “R-right! Treasure first, ogling later… uh, I mean… yes. Absolutely.”
Kirara chuckled, the sound low and velvety. With a graceful pivot she strode toward the chest, every step a dancer’s step, every ripple of muscle a silent encore to the fight just finished. Klein hurried after her, trying, and failing, to decide whether the gleam in his eyes came from the glittering loot or the woman retrieving it.
Kirara knelt before the treasure chest with a fluid elegance, her fingers gliding across the intricate golden clasps before flipping the lid open. A gentle glow pulsed from within as the loot shimmered into view: A few gold coins clinking softly, a couple of standard gear drops, a stack of potions… and nestled atop the pile like a secret prize, a crystalline object glowing with a soft opalescent light.
“Your rewards, Master Klein,” Kirara said with a soft smile, presenting the open chest to him like an offering. “May they please you as you so richly deserve.”
Klein crouched beside her, already mentally sorting the contents. “Looks like the usual stuff… cash, drops, ah… hold up.” He reached in and gently lifted the gem between thumb and forefinger. It sparkled faintly, catching reflections from the nearby torches. “Now this is interesting.”
Kirara tilted her head. “What is it?”
“It’s a cosmetic gem,” Klein explained, turning it slightly to show the way it refracted light like a prism. “They’re rare. Needed for crafting premium appearance items… y’know, outfits, accessories, glamours. Especially the high-end or animated stuff. This little guy could sell for a fortune.”
Kirara blinked slowly, thoughtful. “So… it can be used to make equipment to look good?”
“Yeah,” Klein nodded. “Doesn’t affect stats, just looks. But players go nuts over this stuff. Vanity sells.”
She looked at the gem in his hand, then back at him. “Then… if I may ask something a little selfish, Master Klein…” She paused, her voice just shy of hesitant. “There is actually something I would like to try. With that gem.”
Klein raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? What were you thinking?”
Kirara’s eyes lit with excitement. “I saw a boutique vendor near the marketplace who specializes in custom tailoring. If you allow it… I would like to visit her. Perhaps… design something more fitting for a servant of your stature.”
Klein blinked. “You mean, like, an outfit?”
She nodded eagerly, her voice low and earnest. “Something unique. To honor my role. I want to look the part, for you.”
Klein looked at the gem again, then at her… so hopeful, shimmering eyes framed by windswept bangs and the faintest smile behind her veil. She looked like a goddess asking for a ribbon.
“Sure,” he said with a half-laugh. “I don’t see a reason to sell it if you’ve got something in mind. Knock yourself out.”
Kirara beamed. It was a squeal of radiance and pure joy. “Thank you, Master Klein. I promise… you will not regret this.”
She clutched the gem carefully and stood, already picturing ideas. “Shall we return to town? I may need your opinion on a few details.”
Klein stood too, still reeling slightly from how much conviction she put into that. “Yeah, alright. Just promise me it won’t be too much.”
“Too much, Master?” Kirara turned with a knowing look over her shoulder. “Understood! I promise you it will definitely not be too much. ”
Klein muttered something under his breath about being in way over his head, then followed her glowing silhouette as they warped out of the dungeon together.
—
Klein jogged through the cobbled streets of the player housing district, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, hood half-drawn up in a weak attempt to look casual. But he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all himself. His nerves were shot.
He’d split from Kirara after the dungeon run, waving her off with a smile that probably looked more like a grimace. She’d said she wanted to head “straight to town”, and knowing her, she’d probably run there, radiant muscles and all, in a blur of loyalty and purpose.
Which left Klein alone with something dangerous: Time to think.
“Okay,” he muttered to himself as he turned a corner, his boots tapping against the polished stone path. “That had to be Kirito, right? Same sword handling… even though they are fans now. Same little quirks… even though that devotion is next level, and especially her account…”
There shouldn't be a way to fake that… right?
When he checked Kirara’s profile, it didn’t show a nickname overlay. It didn’t show “Kirito” at all. No history, no old guild tags, no past logs. Just: Kirara. Warrior Princess. Devoted to Master Klein.
And worse, when he asked Asuna, she didn’t blink.
Because he’d messaged her immediately after the fight.
“Hey, did Kirito change his avatar? Like…recently?”
“Huh? Who’s Kirito?”
“What? KIRITO. Black swordsman? Beater? Tall, broody, saves the day a lot? Hangs out with you IRL a lot?”
“Oh! You mean Kirara?”
“No, I… wait what.”
Lizbeth had confirmed it. So did Silica. Hell, even Agil. Everyone spoke of Kirara like she’d always been there. Loyal, deadly, and obsessively, unshakably, loyal to him.
Klein swallowed hard, slowing as his base came into view at the top of a quiet overlook, a warm, Japanese-style compound built into the mountain ridge. Fireflies blinked around the outer wall. The sky was painted in soft digital dusk.
He stopped a few feet from the door and stared.
“I’m finished, Master. Come home soon <3” Her message had pinged around five minutes ago.
“Finished what, exactly…” Klein muttered, running a hand through his hair.
The door loomed ahead, innocent and slightly ajar.
Klein took a breath, then another. This was his home, his space. Nothing bad could happen in his base, right?
Right?
He exhaled, stepped forward, and pushed open the door and stepped inside.
Immediately he was hit by the scent of simmering virtual spices and something sweet baking in the oven. Soft ambient lighting filled the entryway of his home, warm and golden, almost too welcoming.
He turned the corner into the main room…
…and stopped dead.
Kirara stood waiting for him, perfectly posed in the center of the room like a promotional render for an outfit nobody had the confidence to wear.
She wore a black secretary outfit, but it may as well have been a weapon. The skirt was tight and short, showing off most of her impossibly long, muscular legs, her skin glowing against the shadows of her high-end designer heels, which added even more height to her already towering frame. The crisp blouse hugged her powerful upper body like it had been stitched on by a sculptor with a fetish, cinched just enough to leave a scandalous plunge of cleavage fully visible beneath the dark silk.
The glasses that were delicate, gold-rimmed, and perched low on her nose, gave her a strange kind of dignified power. She looked refined… and absolutely, categorically not safe for work.
But she still wore her veil. That delicate, sheer fabric fluttered slightly with each breath, casting just enough mystery over her lower face to make everything worse. Or better. Klein wasn’t sure anymore.
Then she purred:
“Welcome home, Master~”
Her voice was low, sultry, with a faint teasing lilt.
“Everything is perfectly organized and ready for a quality dinner. As your secretary, it is my duty to make sure anything that could possibly make your life better… will happen~”
Klein opened his mouth. No words came out. Just a dry click.
He blinked, took a half-step back, then forward again as if testing the reality of what he was seeing. “Wh— you— that’s—” he sputtered, hands gesturing helplessly at her body like punctuation marks. “Thats what you wanted to make?!”
Kirara tilted her head, her hands neatly folded in front of her. “Indeed” she declared, as if it were obvious. “This is the outfit I crafted with the cosmetic gem you so graciously allowed me to use.”
She twirled slowly in place, the skirt lifting just slightly, dangerously. “I thought something formal might suit me outside of battle. Something presentable, respectful, and professional.”
Klein made a soft wheezing sound. “Respectful… right.”
Kirara stepped closer, heels clicking with confidence, each one a metronome counting down to Klein’s heart attack. She looked down at him with affectionate precision. “Does it meet your approval, Master?”
Klein couldn’t look directly at her for more than a second at a time, but somehow, not looking at her felt worse.
“I… I mean… yeah,” he admitted, scratching the back of his head and trying not to trip over his words. “You, uh… you wear it really well. Too well. I’m not sure there’s an outfit you couldn’t rock.”
Kirara’s eyes sparkled behind her glasses, pleased. “Then I shall take that as a command to continue impressing you~”
Klein turned away quickly, mostly to hide the deepening blush on his face.
I am so, so in over my head… he thought. And then Kirara whispered: “Would you prefer to eat now, Master? Or relax first while I massage your shoulders?”
Klein made a noise that might’ve been a yes. Or a scream. Possibly both.
—
Time to spend some quality time with everyone's favourite super buff mega gamer girl.
Comments
Rubyinabox
Great Read! Cute little story. Normally id say something like "bleh mind control is bad or i feel bad or identity death is basically murder and takes me outta the story" (very self aware of myself. Lol) Buuuuuuutttttt i really disliked Kirito and Sao, so Kirara is absolutely improvement and feels more like a fun character! Haha!
