Every soul watching the match held their breath. Yujin's performance commanded that kind of reverence.
A blade swung with killing intent, yet his movements mirrored his opponent‘s like a reflection in water. A near-perfect mimicry.
Is that even possible?
No one could answer, because no one had ever seen such a thing before. Even if it were a choreographed performance, it would be absurd. Who practices to mimic their enemy in a duel to the death? It was bordering on the impossible.
The opposing knight‘s face was twisted in shock, while Yujin‘s expression remained hidden behind his helmet. Even the commentators were struck dumb.
In the silence, Kiril murmured, "No way..."
Any swordsman watching this surreal duel knew the truth. It was evolving from mere mimicry into something more.
It wasn't just copying anymore.
If a replica surpasses the original... if years of effort are caught up to and exceeded in a single duel...
What emotion does that leave the opponent with?
In the hushed arena, the match ended faster than expected. When composure crumbles, technique fails. Mistakes piled up, and true skill vanished. The result was Yujin‘s victory, achieved with the exact same thrust his opponent had attempted.
’To think a moment‘s imitation could surpass the original... what a monster.‘
Daniel rubbed his chin as he watched Yujin stand victorious. He had thought the boy was a genius, but this was something beyond genius.
Many in the crowd looked at Yujin with distaste. Daniel, a merchant skilled in reading emotions, saw it clearly.
’They‘re annoyed that he‘s standing there without a scratch.‘
They had hoped the ambush would rattle him. But Yujin remained unshaken.
Daniel had his own knives to stick into the Merchant Association, but using them now would mean the fall of the Nearl family. He had to wait for the perfect moment to strike a fatal blow.
"…Huh?"
As Daniel plotted, a gasp from beside him drew his attention.
He looked back at the arena.
Yujin, having defeated his opponent, had collapsed.
"It‘s overwork."
"What...?"
"Physical exhaustion has reached its limit. Overuse of Arts is part of it, but his body was already weakened. He needs absolute rest..."
Overwork. Larin bowed her head at the doctor‘s words. Yujin hadn't rested once lately, and the strain of the duel had finally broken him.
"What about the remaining matches...?"
"As a doctor, I would advise against competing. But I know how much this tournament means. Just ensure he rests completely once it's over."
After the brief consultation, Larin sat by Yujin‘s bedside. She gently brushed his dark hair away from his forehead. He slept silently, like the dead. His right arm, usually hidden by sleeves, was revealed to be covered in deep bruises.
"Why didn't you say anything until it got this bad...?"
He looked fine on the outside, but inside, he was breaking. Yujin was already carrying too much, and Larin realized she might be just another burden on his shoulders.
She had thought they could share the load. It was a foolish delusion.
Clasping Yujin‘s hand, Larin buried her face in the bedsheets, praying for him to wake up soon so they could talk.
2.
Consciousness sank, like looking through a shattered mirror.
What am I seeing?
When I opened my eyes again, a familiar scene greeted me. A white room, a white ceiling. Furniture arranged neatly.
Suppressing the urge to go crazy from the sterile whiteness, I opened the door. Beyond it lay a window revealing the vast expanse of space.
"…What is this?"
I had no idea what was happening. I remembered finishing the duel and collapsing from exhaustion, treating the ground as my bed.
But when I woke up, I was here.
"A dream?"
I bent my finger backward, confirming the reality of the pain—or lack thereof. It was a dream. But I had never been here before.
Someone was walking down the white corridor. Black hair tinged with green, perked feline ears, skin as white as snow. A child.
Wearing a white dress that looked like a patient's gown, the child saw me and ran over with a smile. My body moved on its own, extending a hand as if it were scripted.
"Ama-10... no, Kal'tsit. Running in the hall is dangerous."
"Teacher!"
The child. My mouth moved of its own accord, calling her 'Kal'tsit.' She leaped into my arms. Holding her with one arm, I looked out the window at the cosmos with her.
"Teacher, aren't you bored? You always look at space with such strange eyes."
"Haha, strange? Can't you say I look hopeful?"
In the visible universe, a planet bleached white floated in the void. Like a world covered in snow. A white planet.
"…Kal'tsit."
"You're doing it again!"
I didn't know what kind of look I was giving her, but as I set her down, she knelt on one knee and touched my face.
"You don't need to look at me like that. This is the mission I carry."
"I'm sorry for placing such a heavy burden on you."
I placed my hand on her head, stroking her hair gently. As if I would never see her again.
"Hehe, pet me a little more. With more affection!"
"Alright, alright."
After speaking with Kal'tsit, my vision flickered. White light enveloped me, and suddenly, the scene changed. I saw others.
[Success! Success! It's synchronizing!]
[WOOOO!!!]
[Kiiiek—!!! A genius who defies even god has arrived!]
"If you're done analyzing, get out and stop making noise. And leave a good evaluation."
People were cheering over a hologram of a stone. A woman watching them sipped her coffee with one hand.
[Tsk tsk. Have some tea with us.]
[Yeah, Miss Genius. Join us for tea.]
"No thanks."
Everyone was dressed like researchers. White coats, scattered documents—they were scholars.
[That's why she can't get married.]
[So, any progress with Knight...?]
"Ama-10, cut the feed."
A vein popped on her forehead as she lowered the hologram's volume. The chatter of her colleagues could still be heard.
"Are you dead, Doctor?"
'I' shook the Doctor's shoulder to wake him. Judging by the empty caffeine containers on the desk, he had pulled another all-nighter.
The hologram shifted to show the Doctor slumping in his chair, burned out.
"I told you to moderate your intake. Your body isn't built for this..."
"What does it matter? My body is sturdy. The Doctor is the problem."
[Kya, going to see Knight again? You're so devoted...]
"Ama-10! I told you to cut the feed!"
[Run! Grab it and run, Ama-10! Kyahaha!]
Watching Kal'tsit flee with the hologram device, the woman sighed and rubbed her temples.
"She still has studies and papers to write..."
"Let her be. She's still young. We have plenty of time."
Right. We have time.
Surely... we have plenty of time left.
Throwing the comatose Doctor onto a bed, I walked down the corridor with her. Kal'tsit was long gone.
"Is the plan perfect?"
"As always, the theory is flawless."
Her swaying white coat, her brown hair, the hairband I gave her as a gift.
I trusted her.
I trusted you.
"Knight?"
"…Huh? Yeah. What?"
"Where did you wander off to?"
She approached me and asked.
"Nowhere. Just getting sentimental lately."
"Still getting lost in your own world, I see. Pfft. Reminds me of when we first met."
"My blunder?"
When I first met her, I thought she was stranded on an ocean planet and screamed to rescue her. Turns out she wasn't there at all—just a consciousness synchronization device she‘d left behind.
"It wasn't a blunder. Thanks to that, we met!"
She spread her arms wide and laughed. I laughed with her.
"Yeah, I guess so."
communicating through that device, we built a friendship. Eventually, I came here, and we were together.
We were friends.
Comrades who could trust each other and watch each other's backs.
But.
Why did you make that choice?