Freshman Johan 24
The moment the duel began, Doris vanished from my sight.
It wasn't something you could simply chalk up to a swift ambush. If he'd just slipped out of view at high speed, I could've predicted his path from the sound or the rush of air—or at least caught that he'd moved at all.
But the Doris right now? He was gone without a trace, like he'd melted into thin air.
And this matched exactly how Doris fought in the original story.
Just as I expected.
Doris Bienker's moniker was the Phantom Fairy.
Rare for a swordsman, he was a master of illusions. Nothing like that Maraelle guy from earlier, who strutted around calling himself a phantom sword user but just mixed in a few cheap grabs with his attacks.
Thinking back to the clownish illusion swordplay I'd just crushed, this fight was probably ninety percent headed for my defeat.
Doris's phantom sword, fully leveraging his fairy traits, was said to be unstoppable among third-years at the academy. Within the circle, the only student who could truly cross blades with him was maybe Senior Idsha.
Shiiik!
A sword thrust out from empty air. Relying on reflexes, I traced its arc and leaped back. I'd been on high alert for any attack, so I didn't let this surprise strike land.
Doris's body materialized in midair, as if the empty space had been dyed with his color to reveal him. His cold eyes scanned my body inch by inch.
Doris wasn't some basic swordsman who just hid and struck first to win. The veil of illusions was just one of his weapons—not his everything. Even a normal swordsman would struggle to last ten exchanges against him once he showed himself.
Even without the ambush factor, it's sharp.
Doris's blade was stealthy and nimble—befitting the Sun and Hills' Broken Sword Squad.
"Dodging that? Most first-years get hit before they even notice."
"If I got wrecked by an average first-year, it'd trash Sun and Hills' reputation, wouldn't it?"
"Your little stunt already trashed our rep pretty good."
"My bad."
"No need for insincere apologies."
Doris vanished again. This time, the sword followed almost instantly. A diagonal slash from upper left to lower right. Too deep to backstep away from.
Block it.
I met Doris's sword head-on with mine. A sharp clang! rang out, the heavy impact vibrating from my wrist down through my legs braced against the ground.
As expected, Doris wasn't someone to underestimate in a straight power clash. Despite his fairy-small frame, he wielded a bastard sword's worth of heavy steel with expert skill.
The blades met and parted. His unpredictable ambushes were enough to scatter my focus. Left to right, right to left.
The chaotic barrage from all directions—no front, back, left, or right—evoked a turbulent fluid flow. Human reason couldn't easily calculate or predict the intricate subtlety woven into Doris's sword. And he did it without mana, effortlessly overwhelming those who'd used mana before him.
Worth of the Broken Sword Squad.
But Doris's sword wasn't perfect. His phantom strikes were stealthy and powerful, sure—but the transitions between attacks felt unnatural.
A normal student wouldn't even notice the flaw. But for me, honed by countless real battles, that tiny gap was ample rest to regroup and brace for the next.
Doris was no ordinary talent, but neither was I. Levels are always relative, and in this fight, the edge was undeniably mine.
And stamina-wise, he's not flawless. He hid perfectly at first, but now I can sense the sounds and air ripples.
Doris's weakness—stamina—was noted in the original too. A classic fairy flaw.
Truth be told, with Darkness Radar, I could pinpoint him without focusing. Fighting him without it already proved our gap.
"Sharp senses."
"Senior, you're the noisy one here."
"......Shut your mouth, and you'd get decent reviews."
Doris vanished once more. I backstepped straight like before. No matter how he hid, he had to reveal himself to attack. Limit of his stealth.
"Dodging isn't everything."
Another sword appeared before me. But this time, two. Identical size, shape—even momentum. The sharp killing intent from their edges sent chills down my spine.
One's fake!
True and phantom blades came at me slantwise from opposite sides. Block one, and you're wide open to the other.
Right one's real!
Original knowledge nugget.
Right-handed Doris unconsciously manifests illusions on his left. (For reference, in the original, Johan beat him by exploiting this. Though that was years later.)
Clang!
Our true blades met, and with a glassy shatter, the left phantom dissolved like spring snow.
"Even that, you saw through."
Doris withdrew his sword and stepped back. A crack appeared in his icy gaze. The onlookers caught it too, voices rising.
"Did you see!? Doris backed off!"
"Attacker or defender... insane. Makes me wanna quit."
I'd pushed Doris back, but no major damage. Watching Senior Idsha puffed her cheeks, pissed.
"Hey! Broken Sword Leader! Get serious! Full power! Full power!"
"Sigh... full power? Understood."
Doris's cold eyes locked on me. The calm sinking in his gaze signaled a finisher. But killers are easy to counter if you read them.
Shatter his ultimate head-on, and I'd win Idsha's favor?
Unaware of my thoughts, Doris stared at his sword tip and murmured.
"Regrettably, the duel ends here..."
"Why's everyone clustered like this?"
A noble yet stuffy voice cut through the heated training ground. Doris's brow furrowed at the sound.
We students turned toward it. Same as when Senior Idsha arrived earlier—just a different spotlight.
"Instructor Henri."
Henri Lucas.
Sun and Hills' advisor and fourth-year sword instructor sauntered through the students. They parted like before.
But the vibe was night and day. Idsha's entrance felt like yielding to a noble lady; this was fleeing a brutal assassin.
"Circle leader. What's this?"
The man who emerged spoke with a gravelly voice. His five-part combover exposed a sallow forehead like faded paper, purple-tinged lips like a beast's maw, and murky green eyes perfect for a necromancer.
"A minor disturbance."
"Hm. Minor or not, I'll hear it. These students all here to gawk at the circle?"
"Most, yes."
He scanned the crowd like a snake eyeing prey. Students hit by his gaze averted theirs. It took under a minute.
"Talent looks meh. Everyone, head out. Need the grounds for remedial training."
Idsha snapped back at Henri's words.
"Instructor Henri. I've told you repeatedly: get circle leader permission before using facilities."
"Permission granted now. Clear out."
"......That's an order. Sigh... fine. Everyone heard! Disband! Sorry, come back tomorrow!"
And so my duel with Doris fizzled out. Like an incomplete burn. But catching Henri's eye was bad news. He handed out penalties like candy.
"Ahem... that rumored human?"
Henri's green eyes raked over me. Felt like maggots crawling my skin. Luckily, his gaze lasted under ten seconds. His face said he'd lost interest.
"Tch... hate these half-assed results personally."
Doris sighed, sheathing his sword. Grumbling, but even he couldn't defy Henri.
Had the duel continued, Doris's rep would've tanked like the others. He owed Henri thanks.
"Call it today. If chance arises... I'd like a rematch."
He said politely. I nodded vaguely and logged out of the Reality Room.
"Johan! That was insane!"
Out of the room, Bane shoved her face in mine, eyes bulging, yelling loud. Our faces so close I felt her breath. She flinched first, turning away.
"Eek! S-sorry."
"No need."
"A-anyway! Seriously amazing! Johan! What are you?"
"Human, as you see. Handsome male specimen."
I spread my arms wide. Bane looked away, blushing. Looks like this get applause even for shitting.
"Hey! You, human freshman!"
A busty succubus senior approached, udder-like chest heaving. Tempest uniform. Her skirt-tail wagged cutely.
"Saw it all. You're legit. Real human? Or demigod or something?"
"Pure human."
"Insane skills! Face even more so. Wanna hit our dorm party tonight?"