The Duel
Back when Academy Yuri Princess was still serializing, there was one topic that set the reader forums ablaze with endless back-and-forth arguing.
Who would end up as the main heroine paired with the protagonist?
Since the author had drawn a hard line early on — no harem ending — the community devolved into heated debates over who would get the last laugh.
Countless characters got thrown into the discussion, but the ones mentioned most often, by a mile, were the protagonist's party — the four who belonged to it.
Chloe Opal, the next head of the Opal family. A genius of the blade who wielded a sword art built on battoujutsu, offense and defense fused into one.
Arlan Carnelian, the Red Witch's magnum opus. A living curse-doll who could kill with a mere touch.
Ter Citrine, the illegitimate child of House Citrine and the family's pride, wielder of "Lightning." A divine archer who could snipe anything her eyes could catch.
Marin Light, the Sleeping Giant's tear. The proof that God once existed — the legacy of the God King who was called the world's master.
Every one of them flawless, every one of them captivating. They'd each staked out their heroine positions with their own distinct charm and appeal, so it wouldn't have been strange for any of them to become the true wife.
In the end, the original story settled the war when Chloe accepted Eva's confession — but as always, even readers who understood it with their heads couldn't help voicing a deep regret that their favorite hadn't ended up with the protagonist.
I was on Team Arlan, the childhood-friend faction. A devoted supporter to the degree that I'd bought five sets of the limited-edition merch from the web novel site's event.
The scene where she sacrificed herself trying to save the protagonist in the final battle against Part 2's boss carved a fourth tear into the eyes of a man who had sworn to cry only three times.
The story was praised for its polish, and I was satisfied — but the Eva x Arlan coin I'd gone all-in on got delisted the moment she exited the stage.
After that, I stopped caring who became the heroine. When Chloe got the position, I did leave a short review in the comments — "The face of the franchise makes the most sense as the true wife, after all."
She blindsided the readers good and proper.
If I'd known the novel would end in that dumpster-fire ending, I never would have written that comment. I'd sent congratulations on the wedding — and then the author trampled it into the dirt right in front of the man who sent them.
Anyway — here comes the debut of the first member of that monumental protagonist party.
I stare at Chloe, eyes wide open.
"Pointing a blade at someone out of nowhere? What if they'd died?"
The tip of the terrifying blade gleams sharp. Like the fangs of a beast drunk on blood, it radiates the intent to bury itself in my throat.
The moment I withdraw the mana wrapped around my arm, that frost-edged steel will take my breath away for good.
"I'd hit you with the flat of the blade. You wouldn't die."
"That's like saying it's fine to shoot someone with a rubber bullet."
"Anyone else, maybe — but you'd be fine, wouldn't you?"
I pour every ounce of strength into the arm blocking her blade and shove. Tang! With a sharp ring of steel striking steel, her body launches into the air.
But even through that violent impact, she touches down on the ground as softly as a cat landing on its feet.
Ruby-bright red eyes dip low. She corrects her grip on the katana and falls back a step, her night-black hair cascading down in time with the motion.
The formal, textbook stance of high nobility, crowned by a dazzling face — the combination seizes the eye. And then, unbidden, something I'd read in the original novel surfaces in my memory.
If a single word could sum her up, it would be this:
Rose.
Amid the riot of blossoms filling a garden, a beauty that stands apart from all of them — the kind that leaves anyone who lays eyes on her staring, entranced.
"Kiya, look at that face."
<Dear Reader, on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate this situation?>
"Oh, I'll rate it. You need at least that level of looks to make it into the protagonist's party."
A pinnacle of beauty that could turn even celebrities on TV into ordinary civilians. I've seen plenty of beautiful women, but she doesn't just stand out — she's blinding.
And this is the irony: she's the main culprit who ruined my favorite novel, and yet for a split second, even forgiveness stirs in me.
"Eva, are you hurt anywhere?"
"C-Chloe!"
She inspects her blanket-wrapped friend from head to toe. So thorough is her examination that even an American airport security checkpoint would click its tongue in admiration.
"Nothing, thank god. You said you were going to the bathroom and then just vanished. I was worried sick."
"I-I'm sorry."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong."
Chloe pats Eva gently on the back. An older sister cradling her younger one — warm, tender eyes full of understanding hold her and soothe her.
"The one at fault is that man over there."
Her gaze snaps toward me, hostile as a dagger. The exact opposite of the look she'd given Eva — eyes so frigid and glacial that they glare straight through me.
"A man who preys on Eva. I'm going to kill you."
"C-Chloe, wait—!"
Eva tries to stop her, but the muttered, timid voice of a mouse is thoroughly ignored.
Chloe plants her foot with decisive finality.
"My name is Chloe Opal. In the name of House Opal's honor, I will pass judgment on you."
Shwaak!
Black mana blooms from the tip of her blade. A dark flame surges, and a vicious haze spreads across the room like toxic smoke swallowing it whole.
Black Mist.
The power of Chloe's beloved blade, Night — smoke that devours light, clouding the enemy's vision and concealing its wielder's presence.
"Yep, that's definitely the one."
<Yes, exactly the one you're thinking of, dear Reader.>
Shadowless: Dark Severance — Chloe's ultimate technique, the secret art of House Opal.
A single thread of light running through darkness black as lacquer — a battoujutsu of instant death that severs a target's life in one stroke.
By the time you catch the ominous stillness settling in that fleeting silence, they say, your neck and torso are already lying separated on the ground.
<She's serious. If you let your guard down, you'll be seriously hurt.>
"I know. Even if I didn't want to know, I can feel it."
This mana-laden mist scrambles the senses and sets hearts trembling with unease. It's an innate concealment ability that hides its caster — and yet even within it, I can read the blazing fighting spirit she's aiming at me, clear as day.
Fighting spirit. Not bloodlust.
Chloe, you little monster — not once from the start did you ever intend to kill me.
You just used Eva as a pretext to make this fight presentable.
She challenged me to a duel even after confirming the circumstances showed I'd done nothing to Eva — the answer writes itself.
Chloe is Eva's best friend. She cherishes her to the point of losing her mind over her constantly. Eventually that bond deepens until Eva becomes someone she'd give her own life to protect.
But at this stage of her life, there's something she prioritizes even over her best friend. The dream of a lifetime — her goal. Surpassing the Sword Saint, head of House Opal.
That's why she enrolled at the Academy. To grow stronger, to walk the same path as her father and stand on the same plane as him.
Chloe, who aims for the very peak — and next to Eva, she finds a man. A man with mana, just like her father. A man who might have already reached the same realm as the Sword Saint himself.
Her competitive spirit caught fire, and she threw down the gauntlet. Invoking her family's name to challenge me was proof of that.
<Think this through. Even now, if you get down on your knees and beg, you can avoid this duel.>
"I know. Chloe knows the score too — if I groveled and scraped like a fly rubbing its hands together until my limbs wore out, she'd dismiss the mist."
It's a heartfelt challenge from a girl desperate to push past her limits, so if I forfeited, she'd reluctantly sheathe her blade. She might even feel a little foolish for having been so serious a moment ago.
But—
"Why the hell would I?"
The perfect chance to land one on that bitch finally falls into my lap, and I'm supposed to throw it away? Not a chance in hell!
After my favorite novel was ruined, I blamed the author. I'd mistaken her for the villain who trashed the web novel, a wretch deserving of hell. But it turned out she'd merely transcribed the story of this world as it truly happened — and naturally, my fury redirected itself at the characters of the web novel, the culprits who ruined that ending.
They say reality is worse than fiction. If this had stayed a web novel, it would've ended as nothing more than a godawful trainwreck — but realizing this world is reality, Chloe looks like nothing so much as a domestic abuser shattering the peace of a peaceful home.
Meeting the stars of that web novel — characters from a dreamed-of utopia — moves me nearly to tears. But what wells up even stronger is rage.
Chloe Opal — if Arlan had lived, she'd never have earned the position of true wife. A second-rate heroine.
You will never become Eva's true wife.
I will make sure of it.
<AS IF!>
The Writer's warning bores into my ears.
In the very next instant, a straight line carves itself across the backdrop of black mist, tearing it apart with ferocious brilliance.
At a speed so extreme it could be mistaken for light itself, the flat of the katana drawing that line howls with its blade-wind and blasts toward me.
I can see it.
I take the entirety of that trajectory and stamp it perfectly into my field of vision, missing nothing.
A vivid sensation, as if I could reach out and grab it — her stance, the speed of her draw, all of it rendered in agonizing slow motion.
I move my body as a test. Opening and closing my fist flows at a perfectly normal speed, utterly unlike her slowed world.
Time hasn't slowed. My mana-heightened senses are simply making her speed appear slow.
And I am the only human alive who has adapted to this sensation. Within a flow of time that only seems stretched, I close the distance one step ahead of her.
Thud!
There's no need to catch that blade drifting lazily toward me. All I have to do is intervene first and shatter the flow — deny the technique the instant it tries to complete itself.
A mana-forged fist, laden with searing heat, strikes her abdomen with unhesitating force.
"Kahk—!"
Fwoom!
Chloe's secret art, mere fractions from completion, shatters against the brutal sabotage. Pain radiates from her gut through her entire body, scattering her concentration, and even the Black Mist dissipates pathetically into nothing.
Unable to absorb the shock, she flies helplessly backward. Only after rolling across the cold floor several wretched times does she finally clutch her stomach and gasp for air.
<That landed solid. Chloe can't get her bearings.>
"Ahh, yes. My womb punch landed dead center."
<You lunatic, why are you hitting THERE of all places?!>
"Where does the ruin of this novel come from? It starts with Chloe bearing a child. So I'll thoroughly break it — destroy it so it can never be used again."
<You think I summoned you here so you'd resort to THAT kind of extreme bullshit?!>
The Writer must be genuinely rattled — she's abandoned all formality and is roaring at me outright.
But I stand tall. There isn't a shred of hesitation in this heart or these actions.
"Extreme or not, who cares. I'm making the Chloe who ruined the web novel infertile. That is the wish of every former reader of Academy Yuri Princess!"
<Please, sincerely, bite your tongue and die. Even breathing the same air as you is disgusting.>
In truth, I only lied to savor the Writer's glorious reactions. Trash as I may be, I'd never actually do something that deranged.
I have methods to change the ending stacked to the rafters without resorting to that — why would I ever bother?
But if — if — every hope ever vanished and no other means remained, that lie might yet turn to truth.
Anyway, with that, the match was decided.
Chloe's defeat. And my victory.
"Everyone, stop right there."
The thunderous voice ringing through my ears came just moments after the victor was settled.