Translator: RaidenTL

Chapter 66: The Freya Ducal House 8

When I first manifested nine clones...

Askal looked genuinely stunned, her mouth ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠agape and her eyes wide with disbelief.

Well, it’s only natural.

Until now, Askal believed my ability was simply making a dagger appear in my hand with a snap of my fingers. To be precise, I had gone out of my way to lead her to that conclusion.

Just a moment ago, I had summoned a dagger without snapping. Now, Askal realized I didn't need a trigger at all. And before she could even process that revelation, I unveiled an entirely new dimension to my power.

It was only right that she looked shell-shocked.

To drive the point home, I conjured ten more clones.

Twenty versions of me now stood scattered across the training grounds, every single one of them staring Askal down.

"Hahahaha! Hahahaha!"

After scanning the twenty of me, Askal suddenly burst into a laugh so boisterous it seemed to rattle the very foundations of the training grounds.

My first thought was that she’d finally snapped, but seeing the corners of her mouth curled upward and the predatory delight in her eyes, I realized that wasn't the case.

"Nice. Yeah, this is great. It’s been a long time since an Academy student made me feel this way—not since 'that guy.'"

Askal muttered to herself, tilting her head back to look at the sky.

My goal had been to discourage her, but it seemed I had only succeeded in igniting her competitive spirit as a warrior.

"""""Now then... which one is the real one?"""""

Twenty of me threw twenty daggers at Askal simultaneously.

The blades whistled through the air, each tracing a unique, lethal trajectory.

Tap!

Askal didn't seem to have any intention of dodging. Instead, she charged headlong toward the incoming storm of steel.

Swish!

She swung her sword at the daggers. It looked like she intended to parry one and use the momentum to knock the others out of the sky.

"....!!"

Whoosh—!

But the moment Askal’s sword made contact with a dagger, it vanished into thin air.

Another dagger lunged for her throat, but she twisted her body with feline grace to evade it.

Seeing that, I knew for certain: Askal still hadn't grasped the true nature of my illusions.

Out of all the flying daggers, only one—the one I had thrown personally—was real. The rest were mere phantoms woven from my magic.

Whiz—! Whoosh—!

Unaware of this, Askal continued to dodge or attempt to parry. She swung her sword at another incoming blade, but again, it dissipated upon contact.

Whiz—! Clang!

Askal swung again. This time, her sword and the dagger collided with a sharp metallic ring.

"Tsk."

She clicked her tongue despite the successful parry. If every dagger had been a fake, she would have ignored them entirely and charged straight at me. But now that she knew a real one was hidden in the mix, she couldn't afford to ignore a single strike.

Whiz. Whoosh! Swish.

With my mana capacity significantly bolstered by the elixir, maintaining nineteen clones wasn't much of a strain. The real challenge lay in whether I could make them all move naturally.

Originally, I had planned to test the limit briefly and then reduce the number. But right now, my mind felt incredibly sharp.

I could sense everything in the training grounds with perfect clarity. A surge of confidence washed over me; I felt I could control every single clone without a hint of lag.

Even so, I wouldn't be able to sustain this peak state for long.

Probably about three minutes.

I calculated the remaining duration for the clones in my head.

The nineteen clones and I charged at Askal, who had just finished weaving through the last of the phantom daggers.

"Phew... Huuu!"

Askal took a sharp breath and lunged forward.

Claaaaang—!

The sound of Askal’s sword clashing with my sword-stick rang out across the training grounds.

We locked blades, our muscles straining in a contest of raw strength. Askal was undeniably stronger than me.

"Tsk."

However, Askal clicked her tongue and was forced to back away. One of my clones had swung its sword at her exposed flank.

Of course, the clone couldn't actually harm her, but since she didn't know that, she had no choice but to remain wary.

Step.

One of my clones swung at her.

Whiz. Whoosh!

Askal swung back, but her blade passed right through the clone's torso.

Thud!

While Askal’s sword was momentarily buried in the dirt from the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠force of her swing, I lunged at her. She yanked her blade up just in time to catch my strike.

"You're really annoying!"

"I'll take that as a compliment!"

While our blades were locked, Askal threw a dagger with her free hand. It was the exact same model I used—she must have snatched it up from the ground.

The dagger flew toward one of my clones and, naturally, passed right through it.

"You're the real one. The rest are fakes."

Askal spoke with a confident smirk.

"Right?"

"Correct!"

With those words, I backed away and blended back into the crowd of clones.

""Then, can you tell which one is real now?""

.

.

.

Two minutes and thirty seconds after I created the nineteen clones.

The forms of the clones began to distort. The degradation was happening faster than I had anticipated. One clone’s lower body vanished into a blur, while another was missing its hands.

"Looks like you're having trouble maintaining them now, aren't you?"

Askal said, her smirk widening as she watched the flickering phantoms.

There were a few small nicks on her body that hadn't been there before the duel. Conversely, it meant I hadn't managed to land a single significant hit.

Maintaining and moving the clones wasn't the hard part. The problem was keeping their forms stable. It was becoming impossible to restore all of them to their original state.

Should I reduce the number of clones?

No.

I wouldn't do that. If I retreated now, I’d never move beyond my current level.

I left the distorted clones exactly as they were. I couldn't let myself be bound by a set form. The moment I allowed myself to be trapped in a mold, I would stop progressing.

I had to flip the perspective. I couldn't be bound by common sense.

Fixing the forms of all nineteen clones would take too long.

"Lady Askal."

"Yeah?"

"Who do you think is the real me?"

"That would obviously be you."

Askal pointed her finger at me—the only one with a perfectly intact form.

"Is that so? Then let me ask you again."

I used my illusion magic to distort my own form. If I couldn't fix the clones, I just had to break myself to match them.

"""Now, who do you think is the real me?"""

"........That's insane."

""""Then, here I come again!""""

The distorted, grotesque things that looked like me rushed toward Askal in a chaotic swarm.

* * *

"To think he’d even use something like this."

Askal muttered as she watched the swarm of distorted Lokis charging at her.

At first, she had only requested the duel because Johanna seemed to favor him and she wanted to gauge his skills. But through the heat of battle, she had realized something.

If she held back, she would lose.

She had been genuinely startled when he summoned a dagger without snapping his fingers. To think he had been snapping his fingers this whole time just to set up that one moment of surprise.

Askal glanced at her father, the Head of the Freya Family.

Sorry, Father.

She never imagined she would have to use a secret technique against an Academy student.

The platinum mana that symbolized the Freya family began to coat her sword. This was one of the techniques that only those of the direct bloodline were permitted to learn.

To use this against a student...

KABOOOOM—!

Askal swung her platinum-clad sword, unleashing a massive wave of energy. The platinum slash swept across the entire training grounds like a tidal wave.

Loki’s clones couldn't dodge the strike and vanished instantly.

Well, the 'clones' did.

"I can't believe you dodged that."

Askal looked at Loki with an expression of sheer disbelief. She had been certain that strike would end the match.

"I couldn't let it end so anticlimactically."

In truth, the reason Loki could dodge the secret technique was that he already knew the skill's mechanics through Croaka.

Askal pointed her sword at Loki and spoke.

"Your magic... there's no way that's ordinary magic. Is it an Innate Magic? Your Innate Magic is creating fakes, isn't it?"

"Correct. But 'fakes' sounds so cold. I'd prefer if you called them illusions."

Askal watched Loki as he demonstrated his ability by creating a small illusion of a cat in mid-air.

"Are you going to make more clones?"

Loki raised both hands in a placating gesture.

"No. I don't have the strength left to make any more."

She didn't believe him. Even that statement could be a lie.

"Then are you ready to surrender?"

"I can't do that. Since I've worked this hard, I intend to win."

"Is that so?"

Boom!

Askal kicked off the ground with explosive force, rushing toward Loki like a bolt of lightning.

Clang!

Suddenly, a wall appeared between Askal and Loki. She knew it was a fake created by his Innate Magic. Loki had made it haphazardly, as if he didn't care if she realized it was an illusion. In fact, it barely looked like a wall; it was shimmering like liquid.

"You are seriously, seriously annoying!"

But even knowing it was fake, it still blocked her vision. She swung her sword to dispel the shimmering wall.

Loki, who should have been behind it, was gone.

"Then you must be above!"

Loki was falling from the sky, swinging his sword with downward momentum.

I'll parry it and end this.

She braced her lower body to block the falling Loki, but the moment their blades touched, he vanished into mist.

A fake!

Then where was the real one?

"Behind you."

She felt Loki swinging his sword from behind her. It should have been physically impossible for him to be there.

Clang!

Askal threw a hidden dagger backward with her left hand, blocking Loki’s strike without even looking.

"My dagger... when on earth did you pick that up?"

"I picked up another one earlier."

Askal and Loki stood apart, facing each other once more.

"Shouldn't we end this soon? People watching will get bored if we fight this long."

"I don't think anyone's bored."

How could anyone be bored watching someone fight like this? Her father might act like he disliked Loki on the surface, but he wouldn't be able to help but acknowledge such skill.

Step.

"Actually, I'm quite exhausted."

"My, how honest."

"It's one of my virtues."

Step.

"Then, for your sake, shall we finish this?"

Whish. Swish.

Askal suddenly spun around and swung her sword at the empty air behind her.

Thud.

Loki appeared out of nowhere in the spot she had just struck. He had both hands raised high in surrender.

"How did you notice?"

He didn't ask what. He was clearly asking how she knew he was behind her.

"That 'you' over there... even though the wind is ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠blowing, your hair isn't moving. And your shadow is too short for this time of day."

"Even if you realized that the one over there was a fake, how did you know I was behind you?"

"I heard your footsteps. They were very faint, but they were there."

Loki muttered with a look of genuine regret.

"The Imperial Knights really are on another level."

"It was close. If I wasn't careful, I might have actually lost."

Askal said, reaching out a hand toward Loki. He was several times stronger and cleverer than she had anticipated.

Loki also reached out his hand to take hers.

"But what do you mean? That you might have lost?"

"Huh? I mean, I won this duel—"

The hand she extended for the handshake passed right through Loki’s hand.

Then, the Loki in front of her vanished.

Tap.

She felt the cold, unmistakable touch of a blade against her back.

"I won this duel. I knew that a lady of the Freya family wouldn't miss those faint footsteps and the shadow."

"........Ha!"

Askal stood ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠frozen in shock for a moment before letting out a hollow laugh, realizing she had been completely played.

She lowered her sword and raised both hands, just as Loki had done moments ago.

"I lost."