The Clones' Resolve
Even as they watched the first clone's death, there was no trace of sorrow in the eyes of the others. They merely gazed calmly at their own impending end, offering only the faintest, bitter yet self-deprecating smiles.
And when the hero raised his sword toward them once more, the remaining clones who had charged alongside the lizard clone rushed at him again without a word.
“Gust Wind.”
With that short incantation, Rowell swung his empty hand through the air. A fierce gale strong enough to tear flesh erupted, twisting into a wall of wind. Yet no matter how violent the storm, it could never harm these clones—nor even serve as a proper distraction. The clones plunged straight through it, and a massive two-headed wolf merged with a scorpion's form struck at the spot where Rowell had stood, its claws and stinger descending.
But the hero was no longer there.
—That's right! Is it my turn now, Hero?
The clone in the form of a giant bat with a spider's body cried out through sheer will and soared upward, riding the very gale that had just been summoned. The hero could have used flight magic if he wished, but he had chosen the wind instead—because this, too, was a tactic from the past.
This bat-formed clone was the very shape Raiven had taken once inside a narrow cave. He had waited for them deep within, webs spun throughout the cavern. At its center, where the floor was buried beneath layers of white silk too thick to stand on, Raiven had looked down upon them as though conducting a test.
The tactic the hero had chosen then was this: an aerial leap propelled by wind. And then…
“Lightning Bolt!”
A brilliant bolt of electricity burst from his hand and struck the bat clone's face. It was no high-tier lightning spell, merely enough to reduce lesser monsters or ordinary humans to ash. Yet even that proved little more than a distraction.
The bat's mouth opened, unleashing a powerful shockwave. An ear-splitting ultrasonic blast that rattled bones and tore at eardrums. In the past, Raiven had coated every inch of the cave walls with webs not merely to hinder movement or attacks, but to amplify this very technique. Without such preparation, the cave itself would have collapsed before any decisive blow could be struck.
“……!”
Rowell's body was once again enveloped in white light. In the past, his barrier had been too slow and he had taken damage, barely escaping only with the support fire of Aegina and Anak while pouring low-grade healing magic upon himself. This time, however, he suffered no harm at all.
Rowell's body, suspended in midair, began to descend. He could have used flight magic, but he did not. Instead he angled himself downward, sword aimed at the enemy. The bat clone, watching the hero fall toward it, made no attempt to change direction or slow its ascent.
This was a reenactment of that past moment. The outcome was already known. Yet, just like the lizard clone before it, the bat clone chose not to evade.
Rowell's sword gleamed golden and cleaved straight through the bat clone's body. In the original battle, his sword qi had only managed to sever the wings and a few spider legs. Now, however, the blade split the clone cleanly in two, and the radiant energy rapidly erased its existence.
—I… see! Thank you…
Within its fading consciousness, the bat clone spoke its final words. It understood. The sword that split its body and the fierce energy that followed told it everything—why the hero had chosen differently this time.
The bat clone's body vanished into the empty air. There was no pitiful fall, no crashing impact. It simply disappeared in the very pose it had held while flying toward the hero.
But it was not over. Another clone hurled itself at the descending hero.
Its overall shape resembled a bear with spider-like tentacles and wings, yet the grotesque patchwork of mismatched parts and savage aura made it impossible to associate with any ordinary creature.
Rowell's expression tightened slightly as he regarded the new enemy rushing toward him. Not because it had caught him off guard, but because he had never seen this form before.
Unlike the others, this clone was not Raiven. It was not even a single clone. It was merely a forced synthesis of failed clones that could not maintain proper form. Its memories, will, and intelligence were inferior to the others, and its overall completion was likewise lacking. In a sense, it was even more unstable than the very first clone.
Yet precisely because of that, this clone had chosen to fly at the hero.
Sharp tentacles and claws lunged for Rowell. Of course, a casual swing of his sword severed them all, but the clone did not stop. Its body seemed to tear apart, and countless tentacles and spines erupted outward.
Like the hunting limbs of a colossal octopus or squid beneath the sea, the mass of tentacles and spines engulfed Rowell and the entire space around him.
“Ho.”
“……!”
Medrup and Anak let out short exclamations, while Aegina flinched involuntarily. The other clones also watched in silence. It was certainly impressive. Though its size was three or four times that of an adult male, it had never been particularly large as a magical beast—smaller even than the wolf or lion clones, almost pitiful by comparison.
Yet now the clone had grown large enough to swallow an entire small fortress whole. Its shadow and black body made the area around it seem as though night had fallen.
It could not compare to the Neapis Naka Honus Anak had once summoned, but it was undeniably massive—and grotesque.
Still, no one present failed to anticipate what would happen next.
A flash of brilliant light appeared, and a colossal sword of radiance sliced through the enormous tentacles. Just as sunlight banishes storm clouds, the darkness before that light vanished, and the clone's body—now transformed into spines and tentacles—disappeared along with it.
Watching the massive remains fall, Medrup raised his hand, but before he could cast any spell the fragments crumbled into dust and scattered on the wind.
“…It had already exhausted its life force.”
It had been the clone's final, strongest strike. Even if the hero's sword had not cut it down, the creature would soon have perished, its body gradually collapsing. All the hero had done was hasten that collapse.
Rowell hovered in midair with flight magic, gazing calmly at the now-empty space where the clone had been. As he had said, he had never fought Raiven in this particular form. That was why he had not recognized the attack. Moreover, the clone had neither spoken nor transmitted any will. Yet the hero understood the intent behind that desperate assault.
Because he had never fought it before. That was the reason. Unlike the previous two clones—and unlike most of the remaining ones—this clone had no battle worth reenacting. So it had chosen this method instead: an extension of the other clones' efforts, pushing every last ounce of strength into a final, borrowed clash.
Consuming everything it had, it had challenged the hero on its own terms.
Rowell slowly descended under the watchful gazes of the other clones. The massive dragon-formed clone leaning against part of the fortress and the smaller clones alike remained motionless until he landed.
And the moment his feet touched the ground, the two remaining clones—a scorpion-tailed lion and a two-headed wolf—lunged at him simultaneously.
“It seems they have no intention of challenging you one-on-one this time.”
Anak muttered, puzzled. Given the flow of events—and if the clones had inherited even a fragment of Raiven's personality—he had expected them to fight individually.
“They simply wish to do their best in their own way.”
At Medrup's words, Anak's eyes widened slightly before he nodded.
“…True. Those two forms were never suited for single combat.”
Both the two-headed wolf and the scorpion-lion were shapes optimized for facing large numbers of enemy soldiers on a battlefield. They possessed no techniques or methods worthy of a duel—only simple attacks relying on speed and strength. Such forms had never been meant for one-on-one combat. In the past, Raiven had used them not to challenge the hero alone, but to attack the entire party at once.
Claws and fangs. Pincers and stinger. Though the attacks appeared straightforward, their speed steadily increased, forcing Rowell to accelerate as well. Large and small wounds accumulated across the clones' massive bodies, and gradually the pace of their exchange began to slow.
Then, at a certain moment, the clones' eyes flashed as they poured every remaining ounce of strength into a final strike—and the battle ended.
With a low growl, the clones' bodies scattered. There had been no grand techniques or dramatic clashes, yet their eyes held a look of quiet satisfaction.
Rowell raised his sword toward the remaining clones. Even though the first wave of beast-formed clones had fallen, many more still stood.
—You are truly formidable, Hero. But surely you do not intend to face each of us one by one?
“…I am merely doing as I please. If you wish to attack all at once, that is fine as well.”
“Quite the arrogant statement.”
—Yet it is also true that you possess the power to back it up.
“Grr!”
Countless clones rushed toward him. Though the final dragon form and many others—such as the jackal-headed clone and the bandaged ones—still remained in the rear, a far greater number than before surged forward.
“……!”
Anak and Aegina, watching from the sidelines, nearly moved or rushed forward without thinking, but quickly regained their composure. Only Bagloros required Medrup to cast a light restraint spell to hold him back.
Amid the countless clones of Raiven, Rowell's movements were nothing short of miraculous. He dodged or deflected every attack while countering with light spells, steadily eliminating them one by one.
“As expected… he's incredible.”