175 - Heaven Beyond Heaven [Isabella Entwider vs Isabella Entwider]

"My true name is Isabella Entwider. Please kill my doppelganger for me."

A noble voice rang out toward the hundred heavily armored knights.

"That's why I hired you all."

Isabella Entwider was an arrogant woman. The source of that arrogance stemmed from her exceptional magical talent—she was the greatest prodigy in Solitaire Village. At the age of ten, she mastered the basics of spatial magic, and by twelve, she grasped the principles of fire magic. By her twenties and thirties, her purple hair was known to all, and she had made a name for herself as a renowned adventurer.

Having risen to the position of guild master, Isabella Entwider hired a hundred mercenaries and declared a small-scale war. Her target? Another Isabella Entwider with the exact same name. She, too, was Solitaire Village's top prodigy. The only difference was that her doppelganger wielded a sword, not magic.

Clang! Swords crossed.

Even in this brief standoff, screams echoed from all directions. I readjusted my grip on my sword, stepped back, and resumed probing the enemy Isabella.

A lone healer trapped in the midst of an army. If I could just hold out a little longer, Kariri would bring reinforcements.

"I couldn't believe it, but you really sent just the NPC alone to Zone C."

The enemies had devised a clever strategy. Initial base allocation heavily influences the game's outcome. Sure, comebacks happen often in this game, but the team that secures two bases first dominates the next five minutes. That's why sending a fast but low-impact healer as a solo scout early on was always effective.

But they'd predicted exactly where I'd go and countered perfectly by sending an NPC.

Even if I abandoned this spot and joined the center, they'd probably all be clustered in Zone B.

"It was a solid strategy. Assuming a one-on-one ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠with an NPC early on is impossible."

Stat-wise, beating an NPC in the time limit was nearly impossible. But dragging it out? That changed things.

"Where are you looking?!"

A flamberge with its wavy blade charged toward my left side. I deflected it with my short-held scimitar, then immediately slashed diagonally at her nape.

Isabella's reflexes were sharp. She parried my thrust without flinching, holding her stance firm.

"Your struggling ends here!"

I recalled that the swordmaster version of Isabella fought like a street thug—rough and unrefined. She raised her flamberge high overhead, aiming to smash down on my head.

I kept my eyes locked on the sword's trajectory without blinking. Once blades meet, never look away from the enemy's sword. Years of experience had ingrained that as instinct.

I barely dodged. The two-handed sword grazed past my head. Despite its weight, Isabella wielded it with effortless freedom, like a wooden practice sword. Her light movements flowed, but the craters in the ground showed each strike packed real power.

"You minion possessed by the doppelganger! Die here!"

From her perspective, our team's Isabella was the doppelganger. She gripped the flamberge two-handed, then suddenly supported it with only her left hand and punched with her right—straight at my head.

She was controlling the two-handed sword's recoil with one hand alone. Her freed right arm sliced through the air toward me, her smile brimming with confident victory.

I didn't like that look in her eyes or her smirk. Time to remind her nothing's certain until the result shows.

I raised my left arm in a guard over my head. And I dropped the sword I was holding to the ground.

"...!"

"If you're gonna go for fisticuffs, you should've ditched the sword properly."

That obsession with keeping the sword close. Showing off one-handed two-hander control means nothing when you can only use one hand effectively. ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠And in close quarters, fighting without two arms is like battling with a dull blade on both sides.

I grabbed her sleeve with my right hand and yanked her arm inward. Even if she tried to bring the flamberge back late, she wouldn't match my speed.

I twisted her wrist and shoved her upper body forward. I hooked her weight-centered leg and spun her body once.

"Kgh...!"

In that split second our eyes met mid-air, her face screamed disbelief that she'd hit the ground.

Thud!

With my back as the pivot, she floated briefly before crashing face-first without proper tumbling. Dust rose around the woman. Her armor-clad body groaned.

No time to catch her breath—I stomped the sword's hilt, flipping it up. I swung the ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠returning scimitar wide.

Slash— No resistance from flesh.

She rolled on the ground, dodging my stabbing sword, but there was no rush. I timed the moment her recovery motion lagged and stabbed her thigh.

She curled up to protect vitals, even trying to shove me away.

"Stay down."

Thwack— I smashed her head with a kick enhanced by acceleration skill.

Isabella staggered again. Temporary stun confirmed.

Her elongated body exposed vitals: carotid, ribs, solar plexus. Any would satisfy.

"Respawn."

I mounted her sprawled form, drove my reverse-gripped sword down with my full weight.

The entire map broadcast the enemy NPC's defeat in a duel. NPCs don't know skills, after all. That was the enemies' fatal mistake in sending one.

How could I hold back when they kept feeding me combos without interruption? I ignored farming and beat the NPC at level 1.

The system praised my feat eternally, it seemed. Leveled up two whole levels at once.

No sweat in this game world, but habit made me brush back my hair. I flashed a quick V-sign to the observer camera streaming this feed, then raised my sword against the remaining soldiers.

Was it just me, or did this healer use a sword more than heals? I shook off the fatigue-like fluid and moved. Just one step toward victory.

Isabella Entwider believed she'd fully explained why her doppelganger had to die. The two vied for the last root of Yggdrasil—the sole remaining "panacea." Each branded the other a doppelganger in a desperate fight to extend their lives, staking everything.

"Is my explanation funny? I'm your employer! You can't disobey orders this easily!"

Isabella snapped in fury. But the blonde woman trudged ahead with a bored expression, deliberately ignoring her.

She kept protesting. In the first op, she'd split her six elite mercs into teams of three to take the hill and plain. But the party's sole healer, "NoName," had veered off to Nariel Swamp instead. Infuriating.

"The result was good, wasn't it? Fight well from now on!"

Ice mage "Daltori" mediated.

"Our NoName is amazing. Might be worth trusting a bit."

"Ugh... uek... Oppa, that doesn't suit you at all."

"Ugh, what kinda concept is this!"

BoringMan, immersed in roleplay, spouted random historical drama speech. Daltori and Brownie's faces soured in real-time.

"This isn't child's play. Listen up. I've staked my whole life on this. For thirty years, I've obsessed over burning that damned doppelganger. And now's the payoff."

Isabella's eyes blazed. Flames erupted from her staff, mirroring her rage.

"She was weak."

"What?"

NoName's mocking chuckle. "How'd you fail to kill such a weakling all this time?"

She referenced routing the doppelganger in the swamp. The mood soured again.

Han Yong-chul reined in NoName, questioning the need to clash with their own NPC this hard.

"Hehey, NoName, chill! Ms. Isabella, next orders please!"

Yong-chul's plea for petty revenge win.

"Ignore her. I'll give all orders from now on."

NoName rebelled against the AI. Sparks flew between the women.

"Defying your employer?"

"Same face makes you a doppelganger?"

"What?"

"Nah. Yong-chul-ssi, give this objective to the enemy. We'll farm growth time on the opposite side."

"What nonsense! Leave the enemy in this advantageous spot? You're a spy! Doppelganger spy! Don't be fooled, everyone. We ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fight now!"

Algorithms for orders or trolling varied by personality. Isabella was the hot-tempered type.

The golden-haired Dorae screamed the mercs weren't allies, but reactions were cold.

"NoName-chan has another genius idea! Sis Isabella, don't get mad, follow along!"

"It's the century's genius's order! Must have a plan."

Isabella panicked as her mercs turned away coldly. Hailed as the continent's top prodigy, always meeting expectations, this was unfamiliar.

"Why...? What about you, Daltori-ssi?"

"Sorry, hehe. But NoName's orders have never been wrong."

Even Daltori, who'd followed best during B-zone push, sided with NoName over Isabella.

"NoName's a total genius!"

Isabella nearly saw all six as trolls, but honestly, that side seemed less weird. She had to concede she was wrong.

"Fine, let's see how confident you are."

Rejoining the group, Isabella crossed her arms and scoffed.