Chapter 18 – The Ghost Ascends
The Semifinals.
The crowd was roaring before the system even loaded my avatar.
By now, Traveler_R had become a spectacle — the silver phantom that no one could predict, the Doppelgänger who danced on data itself.
But tonight, the arena wasn't just full of cheers. It was full of hunters.
They'd studied me. They'd rehearsed my every move, dissected my illusions frame by frame, mapped my delay timings and mimic triggers.
This was no longer a tournament.
It was an exorcism.
Everyone wanted to be the one who finally made the ghost disappear.
Semifinal Match One – "The Dragon Saint"
Name: Kael'Dran.
Race: Half-Dragon.
Level: 99.
Job: Paladin + Draconic Monk hybrid.
A walking storm of anti-magic and holy buffs — my natural enemy.
The arena opened high above Muspelheim, surrounded by pillars of flame and ash.
He didn't waste time.
Wings unfurled, sword blazing with divine light.
Kael'Dran: "Your illusions end here, shadow."
I chuckled. "Then let's see if the light can hit what it can't define."
He struck first, holy flares scorching the sky — his True Vision pierced illusions instantly.
The crowd gasped. He could see everything.
Perfect.
That's what I wanted.
Because while his eyes saw my illusions, his soul didn't.
I activated Data Trickster – Recursive Echo.
My form shattered into recursive afterimages — not illusions, but time-delayed projections from earlier data frames.
He hit me once, twice, ten times — but each strike landed on a version of me that had existed three seconds ago.
By the time his buffs expired, he realized he'd been fighting a recording.
The real me appeared above him, wings of false light flaring.
Traveler_R: "You were right, Kael. The light always wins…"
I dropped my blade through his helmet.
Traveler_R: "…when it's a reflection."
[Winner: Traveler_R — Match Time: 2:47.]
Semifinal Match Two – "Mirror Knight Verdan"
The second opponent was poetic justice — a mirror user.
Verdan of Alfheim, Level 98. His entire build revolved around reflection,duplication, and reversal.
He could copy opponents' abilities for brief windows.
In theory, he was the perfect counter to me.
Verdan: "Traveler_R. The Doppelgänger meets his own reflection."
Traveler_R: "Then I guess one of us will have to blink first."
The arena was a shining hall of glass — endless mirrors that fractured the horizon.
He started by mimicking my form — silver skin, flickering aura, same weapons.
For the audience, it was breathtaking: two identical phantoms weaving through mirrored walls, illusions spilling into infinity.
He was fast — frighteningly so.
But every time he copied me, he made a fatal mistake: he froze for 0.2 seconds while the data compiled.
That was enough.
HIME: "Timing window acquired. Execute phase reflection disruption?"
Traveler_R: "Do it."
I triggered Illusion Field Collapse, turning all reflections in the arena into real space.
The mirrors became solid clones — thousands of me, each overlapping and moving independently.
Verdan couldn't tell which one was executing which command.
He tried to copy me again.
Instead, the system returned:
[Error: Target Entity Exists in Multiple Instances.]
His screen froze.
Mine didn't.
I sliced him through his own reflection — the shattering sound echoing like breaking glass and thunder combined.
[Winner: Traveler_R — Match Time: 2:11.]
Final Match – "Valkyrie of Jotunheim"
Lightning. Snow. Silence.
The final stage was carved from pure storm — a colossal floating arena above the clouds.
Every arc of thunder looked close enough to touch.
Across from me stood Eir, the Valkyrie of Jotunheim.
Level 100.
An absolute monster.
Unlike everyone before, she didn't smirk or taunt.
She simply nodded and said, "Show me the limit of your illusion, Traveler."
I bowed slightly. "Show me the truth of your resolve."
She attacked first —
and the world ended.
Lightning surged in all directions, forming a cage of holy spears.
Wings of light carried her across the field, faster than I could blink.
Every illusion I cast shattered instantly — her skill Oathbreaker Halo negated all non-physical projections.
The crowd screamed. For the first time, I looked vulnerable.
HIME: "Ren-sama, illusions ineffective. You cannot mirror or displace within this environment."
"I know," I whispered.
HIME: "Recommendation?"
"…Stop pretending."
I dropped every layer of illusion, every visual mask, every data echo — until only my true self remained.
The Greatest Doppelgänger.
Level 95.
Unmasked. Unfiltered.
She charged.
I smiled.
My body split apart — not as clones, but as stored identities.
Ninety memories, each a copy of a player I had analyzed before.
Every form fought for one second — the Flame Demon Lord of Muspelheim, the Storm Giant of Jotunheim, the Oracle of Alfheim —
all merging into one seamless dance.
I became a chorus of data.
Every swing I made came from someone else's strength.
Every parry from someone else's history.
Eir countered every blow, wings shining brighter, until our blades met in one blinding crash of lightning and illusion.
The entire arena went white.
When the light faded, I was behind her, blade resting on her shoulder.
She froze — realization dawning in her eyes.
Eir: "You… turned my own lightning into your illusion…"
Traveler_R: "No."
I smiled faintly.
Traveler_R: "I just convinced the world you'd already won."
The system voice boomed across the sky.
[Winner: Traveler_R — Match Time: 2:58.]
[Champion of Jotunheim — Crowned.]
The lightning ceased.
The audience erupted.
For a brief second, as confetti and light fell like snow, I simply stood there — silent.
Not because I couldn't believe it.
But because it felt inevitable.
I wasn't the strongest.
I was simply the one who understood the system best.
HIME: "Congratulations, Ren-sama. You are now officially recognized as the Jotunheim World Champion."
Traveler_R: "Heh. Feels… light."
HIME: "Do you regret it?"
Traveler_R: "No. Just wondering what comes next."
HIME: "Your match data has drawn developer attention. You will receive direct contact soon."
I exhaled slowly, watching the lightning fade into digital dusk.
"So the real game's about to begin, huh?"
HIME: "It always was."
The storm above Jotunheim Arena shimmered with impossible color — not lightning, but something deeper.
A pulse in the system itself.
And for just a moment,
I could swear the game was watching back.
End of Chapter 18 – The Ghost Ascends