Fighting Oneself

The sharp sounds of close combat exploded densely in the narrow passage, clanging and clattering, occasionally interspersed with the hissing sound of magic tearing through the air.

Ubel and her clone were locked in combat at the entrance to the side passage, their figures moving so fast they were almost blurry afterimages. The trajectory of their short staff strikes, the subtle steps they took when dodging, and even the subconscious adjustments to their wrists when blocking were all identical. The scene didn't resemble a life-or-death struggle; rather, it was more like a bizarre mirror dance amplified countless times.

The short sticks clashed violently once more, sparks flying and then extinguishing in the dim light.

Ubel parried a tricky diagonal thrust from the clone, then nimbly spun around, sweeping his short staff back, forcing the opponent to sidestep and block.

Her breathing was slightly rapid due to the high-speed movement, but the light flashing in her green eyes was unusually calm, even carrying a certain detached scrutiny.

Um...

She parried another thrust, her mind racing between the intense movements.

If this guy really is a perfect copy of me...

The short staffs clashed again, producing a dull clang.

Actually, we should have used "that move" a long time ago; we should have used it even before we started fighting.

She crouched low, the clone sweeping the staff's wind towards her lower body, grazing her head. At the same time, she swung her short staff upwards, aiming straight for her opponent's ribs, but was blocked by her opponent's almost mirror-image downward movement. The two short staffs clashed, emitting a slight friction sound.

But she didn't use it.

Ubel used the momentum to retreat, instantly creating a half-step distance between them.

The clone followed her like a shadow, and the short staff, like a venomous snake's tongue, aimed at her throat.

Are you afraid of being implicated?

She turned her head, and with a swift upward flick of her short staff, deflected the fatal blow.

No.

With a deft flick of her wrist, the short staff traced a treacherous arc, slicing towards the replica's fingers holding it.

If she used a different tactic, she wouldn't have to be afraid of this at all.

The clone released its grip, dodged, and then, with its other hand firmly gripping the short staff, thrust it back at her shoulder—the movements were so fluid and without a single unnecessary movement.

Is it to prevent the maze from being destroyed?

Ubel spun around, his short staff drawing a semicircle behind him, barely deflecting the thrust.

Hmm... maybe.

The two separated again, three steps apart, their chests rising and falling slightly.

After all, who knows what kind of ancient relic the maze's owner is? There's such a huge age gap, a generation gap! It's not surprising what it's thinking...

The clone simply watched her silently, its face like a perfectly blank mask.

Or perhaps, it's simply impossible to completely replicate me?

Ubel's usual faint smile deepened slightly.

In short, the version of myself in front of me is about the same as the current version of myself...

The moment the thought formed in her mind, she moved. This time, it wasn't a tentative, probing exchange; she pointed her short staff forward, aiming straight for the clone's heart! And, as expected, the clone moved too, its movements almost perfectly synchronized—starting, lunging, and thrusting! The tips of the two short staffs clashed and collided at extremely close range, emitting a piercing, sharp screech!

She knew that for the "Nothing Is Uncuttable" magic to work, she would have to defeat me, an opponent who looked almost exactly like her, in close combat.

Their short canes touched, their eyes meeting at close range. One wore a nonchalant yet unfathomable smile, the other's expression was vacant, revealing no emotion whatsoever. And this took too much time.

Ubel suddenly lost her strength, her body leaning back slightly like a willow catkin. The clone's short staff, propelled by inertia, thrust forward violently, the cold tip grazing her nose and lifting a few strands of hair.

Rather than engaging in close combat to determine the victor, it would be better to shorten the distance and try using Gaze Restraint Magic... That's probably what she was thinking too.

As she leaned back, the short staff, like a venomous snake, slashed towards the replica's exposed wrist from the stab.

That way the battle can be ended quickly...

The clone flipped its wrist, narrowly avoiding the insidious slash, and swept its short staff back in the same direction.

The condition for activating the Gaze Restraint Magic is that the target's entire body must be within one's line of sight...

Ubel turned to the side, the short cane she swung back whistling past the hem of her clothes.

Therefore, those who control the distance will lose.

The two distanced themselves again, standing silently facing each other a few steps apart, with only their soft breathing echoing in the passageway.

In a match between equally matched opponents, victory or defeat depends almost entirely on luck.

Ubel stared at the face opposite him, a face that looked exactly like his own but was lifeless.

Well, I've always been lucky.

The clone also watched her silently, like a delicate reflection.

I wonder if this guy has the same luck as me? Luck can't be copied, right...?

Really.

The moment the wind stopped, Ubel moved. Instead of charging straight ahead, he took a half step to the left, subtly shifting his body to the side. His short staff, at an unconventional and extremely tricky angle, pointed at the clone's right armpit, which had not fully retracted due to the previous sweeping motion and was slightly raised—a brief, almost imperceptible opening in the high-speed attack and defense of this perfect mirror image.

The clone's movements were slowed down by an extremely subtle instant, almost imperceptible to the naked eye.

It seems there's always a slight difference between a body made of stone and a body made of flesh.

Ubel's green eyes locked onto her precisely.

The Gaze Restraint Magic requires the entire body to be within sight.

Got him.

The tip of the short staff was only an inch away from that opening. Ubel's lips twitched slightly, and a confident smile was about to spread across his face.

I won.

But, just before the magic was about to surge forth...

She stopped, lost in thought, and didn't use her Gaze Restraint Magic.

Just as she stopped, a faint, dark red light shone unhindered from the clone's empty eyes.

Gaze Restraint Magic activated.

The invisible shackles tightened instantly, and Ubel's body stiffened abruptly, his fingertips unable to tremble even slightly.

However, her smile remained unchanged.

The clone slowly and steadily retracted the exposed arm. She looked at Ubel, who was completely frozen, like an insect in amber, her face still expressionless, a blankness that was chilling.

She raised her short cane.

At the tip of the short staff, a chillingly sharp light began to gather, compressing a terrifying cutting force. The staff tip moved slowly, finally aiming steadily at Ubel's unsuspecting, pale neck.

"Glasses Guy, you got here pretty fast," Ubel's smiling voice rang out.

Suddenly, the sound of whistling wind arose!

It wasn't the sound of a short staff slicing through the air. It was a sharper, faster sound—the piercing shriek of Ordinary Attack Magic tearing through the air!

A solid beam of magical energy shot out without warning from behind the clone, from that dark passage she had no time to pay attention to, aiming straight for her vital heart!

The clone didn't seem entirely unprepared. Just as the magical beam was about to tear her stone body apart, she maintained her gaze locked onto Ubel, abruptly shifting her stance to try and move to a delicate position where she could maintain the magic's effect while also dealing with an attack from behind.

However, the light of that magical beam was too bright in the dimness, as if a small sun had suddenly ignited at the end of the passage. The blazing white light expanded instantly, not only engulfing the trajectory of the sneak attack, but also burying Ubel's figure.

The line of sight was completely blocked.

Even if it's just for a fleeting moment.

The Gaze Restraint Magic has failed.

Control of her body and the flow of magic returned instantly. Ubel didn't hesitate at all.

The short staff was swung out.

The replica's arm, which held the short staff high, along with half of her shoulder and chest, was as if it had been sliced silently and smoothly in two by the sharpest paper cutter in the world. The cut was as smooth as a mirror, even reflecting the blurry texture of the tunnel's rock walls.

There was no gushing blood. Only the evenly cut internal structure of the stone and the fine, falling gray stone chips.

The clone's body instantly lost all support and fell straight backward.

"Snap."

The stone body crashed onto the cold ground without making a loud noise. Cracks instantly spread from the cuts all over its body, and then the entire body disintegrated and dissipated, turning into a pile of gray powder indistinguishable from the dust of the maze.

Not far behind the dust where the clone had dissipated, Lanto stood quietly. He pushed up his glasses, the lenses clearly reflecting the tiny particles of residual magic light, making it impossible to see the emotions in his eyes. His staff was still held horizontally, the tip pointing steadily at the spot where the clone had just been.

His dark mage robes were clean and tidy, without a single wrinkle, and there were no shocking bloodstains on his chest.

"Glasses Guy," Ubel greeted with a smile, his tone relaxed and cheerful as if he had just finished a fun game rather than a life-or-death struggle, "You came pretty quickly."

Lanto lowered his arm, his staff tapping lightly on the ground. He glanced at her, his expression as indifferent as ever.

"Ubel," his voice was flat, stating a fact, "You know that the dying me was a clone, right?"

He paused, his gaze behind his glasses seeming to carry a faint hint of scrutiny.

Why fight to the death?

Ubel didn't answer immediately. As if she had suddenly remembered something interesting, she walked lightly to the pile of ashes, squatted down, and her slender fingers fiddled with the powder before picking up the glass bottle that she had taken from "Lanto" and that the clone had been playing with.

The bottle appeared small and delicate on her fingertips, but at this moment, it was becoming ethereal at a visible speed, like a soap bubble in the sunlight, its surface shimmering with unreal colors, and then with a soft "pop," it completely dissipated into the air, leaving not a trace.

"So the bottle was fake after all." She looked at her bare fingertips.

Then, she stood up, brushed off non-existent dust from her hands, and looked at Lanto again. Her smile instantly Bloom.

"Hehe, I think you'll come over, Glasses Guy."

Lanto crossed his arms, and the "Lanto" who had been lying by the wall was slowly disappearing.

"Do I look like that kind of pushover?" he retorted, his tone devoid of emotion. "For your safety, do you think I would put myself in such danger?"

"Not at all." Ubel nodded in agreement.

She took a few steps closer to Lanto, tilted her head, and carefully examined his face, as if trying to find some hidden answer.

"But, it doesn't matter how it is."

She moved closer, almost to a slightly intimate distance, and the searching light in her green eyes shone even brighter.

"But since you're the kind of person who only thinks of yourself..." she drawled, her voice lowered, "Then why don't you take my bottle?"

She stretched out a finger and pointed to the other side of the passage, next to the "Lanto" clone leaning against the wall, its chest stained with "blood"—her glass bottle containing the escape Golem was still safely in place.

"You hate it when your problems drag other people down, don't you?"

"You're worried about me, aren't you?"

She smiled, a smile that mixed understanding, mischief, and a hint of something indescribable.

"So I created a situation where I might die because of you Glasses Guy."

She looked at the calm, still pool behind Lanto's glasses, as if nothing could be reflected in it, and spoke slowly, each word clearly audible.

"You really came."

"Thanks, Glasses Guy. How does it feel to be a hero saving a damsel in distress?"

"Not very good."

Ubel took a half step back, creating a slightly ambiguous distance, his smile Bloom its peak, as if he had finally solved a complex puzzle.

"Really? I think I understand you better now."

Lanto looked at her silently, neither refuting nor admitting it immediately.

"Is that so?" He finally spoke, his tone so flat it was impossible to tell whether it was a question or a statement. "That's certainly something to congratulate you on."

He raised his hand and pushed up his glasses on the bridge of his nose with the knuckle of his index finger, the lenses flashing white light.

"Then you can resonate with me, right?"

Upon hearing this, Ubel's smile remained unchanged. She turned around and walked briskly into the deeper darkness of the passage, her green ponytail swaying gently behind her as she waved.

"Hurry up, we're almost there!"