Wheelchair! Tarnished!

The white smoke created by the Mimic Tear gradually faded.

The Tarnished stood before the throne, the form copied by the Mimic Tear drained of color.

Now it had become a Tarnished in the truest sense.

Its classic Raging Wolf Set, so familiar to adventurers, had shed its cloak, making its figure appear more streamlined, as though it matched a version that had already survived countless battles.

There were no extra special effects. This transformation was no different from the usual ones, yet backed by the music, it felt overwhelmingly imposing.

Gapar tightened his grip on Moonveil, drew a deep breath, and straightened his back.

Though he was clearly taller than the Mimic Tear transformed into the Tarnished, he still felt that he had to stand straight to meet its gaze.

He did not know where that feeling came from. Was it because he had learned the other's identity and subconsciously lowered his own status?

The moment that thought arose, he forced every distracting thought from his mind. How could he let some subconscious sense of hierarchy affect his performance in a battle of this level?

Who cared who was standing across from him? Just fight!

Besides, that was not the real Tarnished. It was merely a counterfeit copied by the Mimic Tear!

With that thought, Gapar was once again filled with fighting spirit.

Across from him, the Mimic Tear's hands had been empty, but weapons were now slowly taking shape.

An unfamiliar sacred seal appeared in its left hand, while a golden greatsword appeared in its right. Wait, why were the weapons not silver-white this time?

Sensing something, Gapar abruptly looked around and noticed that two gaps had suddenly appeared on the wall where the weapons were displayed. Judging by their shapes, they perfectly matched the two weapons in