Avatar Exchange Meet - (3)

The duels between avatars at the exchange meet differed greatly from real combat. They wielded only a single main weapon, without any aid from auxiliary gear, aiming solely to subdue their opponent.

One famous saying from the Super Galactic Empire Federation was, "An avatar's true 100% emerges when a monster stands before them and civilians behind."

Thus, even defeats in these light sparring matches didn't bruise their pride much. Their real battlegrounds lay elsewhere—in the fray of space monsters and criminals.

But...

"Good work."

Knocking someone down in one hit like that—wouldn't that still crumple an avatar's pride a fair bit?

The moment ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠the duel began, she charged with white light erupting from her entire body. Her opponent tried countering with some martial art or technique, but took a clean hit to the jaw and went down.

That guy seemed like a close-combat type like Yuna, yet she dropped him in an instant? Could you really end it that fast?

The other avatars murmured in shock at the duel that concluded in a flash.

"What the—no way, one shot?"

"What kind of avatar is that?"

"That acceleration—what's with the speed? No special footwork or space leap."

"Dazak's pretty strong in our cohort, right?"

Though they'd all graduated from Kairon Planet together, Yuna had been classified as a special management case and trained separately for combat, so many avatars didn't know much about her.

Makes sense—her home planet, Ratan, was pretty remote on the periphery.

"Hehe! It's all thanks to my constellation. What're you saying!"

Yuna's mouth twitched at the surprised voices around her, but a bright smile soon bloomed on her face.

She had good reason to believe no one in her cohort was stronger than her.

"Next up: Beira, avatar of Sky-Supporting Great Tree, and..."

"I'll be right baack~ Yuna~."

"Yeah! Go get 'em!"

Turning from Yuna, who returned to the waiting area for finished duelists, their eyes shifted back to the arena.

They'd apparently rented out an entire vast plain with their funds—duels unfolded everywhere.

Steel clubs embedded with faintly glowing red gems. Swords with subtly vibrating blades. Gloves that looked ordinary but unleashed purple waves with a wrist flick.

Weapons blending science and constellation powers abounded.

An Eastern-style miko in revealing attire clashed with a gender-neutral alien who instantly coated their body in metal at the fight's start.

It felt like watching actors from different eras bickering. The flashy superpowers mixed in gave it an AI-generated video vibe.

Somehow surreal, a discordant harmony.

"Hup!"

Yuna watched her friend Beira—avatar of the planet-spanning world tree—fight too. Beira summoned wooden roots from the ground and hurled green energy like a fantasy spirit shaman, but her foe was a four-armed SF alien swordsman swinging beam blades.

A world mashing everything together, yet holding steady—truly wondrous.

"Avatar Beira wins!"

Was it because science and technology reigned supreme no matter the powers brought to bear?

* * *

How many hours passed?

This bizarre avatar tournament finally wrapped up.

"Constellation! I won!"

On the plain utterly devastated by superhuman clashes, Yuna waved her hand excitedly. Avatars slumped or standing dazed everywhere stared at her with grimaces of dismay.

Some muttered skyward—other constellations were tuning in too, it seemed.

No way she beat them all bare-fisted.

Fireballs from magic circles. Razor-sharp sword strikes from a duelist. Primitive shaman with feathers covering his body hurling curses.

All crumbled before her two fists.

She clashed her fists together with a refreshing grin, chest puffed out. A queen of fists for the space age, no less.

"Urgh... What makes your fists so damn strong, Miss Yuna?"

"Dunno? Maybe 'cause I met a great constellation?"

Mu-Rakrima, eyes blackened from the finals against Fist Queen Yuna, mumbled blankly.

"Even with a defensive coat and barrier field up, those fists feel like they'd punch right through."

"Agh, seriously—keep harping on my fists and what?"

"Eek!"

Mu-Rakrima flinched at the killing intent from the fist queen who'd conquered the exchange meet.

Makes sense—he was skilled enough to reach finals, so he'd taken more hits than most.

But why was the exchange meet's organizer joining the tournament?

"Hang on—why's the exchange host entering the tournament?"

"Huh? So I can recoup the prize if I win, obviously."

"...Ah. Right."

The instant reply to Yuna's question—after seeing my message—revealed his goal: reclaiming the prize money.

Well, then.

Still, reaching finals meant he'd likely have won smoothly without Yuna.

"Hmm. The avatar community'll be on fire today. 'Genius Mu-Rakrima Defeated...'"

"Avatar community?"

"...Huh? There's a community just for avatars?"

* * *

"No other avatars told you? Have you been too busy since graduating Kairon?"

"Ah... Haha. Of course ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠I knew!"

The avatar community Mu-Rakrima mentioned existed on the dark web, unknown to most civilians, spreading by word of mouth among avatars.

Yuna, who'd been monster-slaying on her fringe planet, hadn't heard—but Beira assumed she knew too?

"Doesn't matter if you didn't. I only learned from a senior after graduating Kairon myself. Congrats on the win, Miss Yuna."

"Yesss. Thanks!"

"If you're planning your constellation's descent ritual, I can introduce the planet's ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠top magic-type avatar."

Finally, crossing to that dimension?

With credits and materials from Yuna's iron fists, info from this gold-digger eager to expand his network...

Just nail the descent ritual.

"Hehe. Can't be long now till I see my constellation?"

Drifting in vast space since the beginning, never had my heart—or whatever passed for it, crammed with star clusters—pounded like today.

-_-

Armed with prize materials and credits from her exchange meet win, Yuna headed to the building of the avatar Mu-Rakrima recommended.

A pointed hat and black robes screamed "witch" to anyone—an avatar who greeted her warmly.

"Oh, hello~ A customer?"

"Y-Yes. Mu-Rakrima sent me. He said you could help with my constellation's descent..."

"Ah! This way~"

The discord of a medieval witch prowling an SF lab didn't last. After reading Yuna's paperwork, she spoke.

"The constellation ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠making a temporary body... from another dimension, Whispering Star Cluster?"

"Yup yup."

"Hmm. Other-dimensional constellations are at least planet spirits—some rule entire star systems. So the temporary body might not hold. Keep that in mind."

If they crammed me in carefully, it'd probably work. Standing on solid ground, speaking via altar—I could endure power limits.

"Luckily, your materials are top-tier like night raven feathers. I've made temporary bodies for planet spirits before, so no need to worry too much."

"But... our constellation seems really impressive."

"Rules a star system or something? We handle premium materials here anyway—I'll do my best."

A twinge of unease here. My body makes galaxies look like dust. Star systems? Invisible.

"Stand over there by the ritual circle. We conduct the material descent via your link to the constellation."

"Here?"

"Yes. And stay still while I chant."

Oddly shimmering black feathers. A palm-sized rhombic dodecahedron. Unfamiliar metals.

She arranged the clearly extraordinary materials and began chanting. Female avatars—staff or apprentices?—assisted beside her.

As a dozen chanted in unison, eerie energy swirled in the circle.

Her chant reached my ears from that tiny planet. Crossing dimensional walls via the avatar link, calling me.

This was mortals summoning immortals.

Useless trivia flooded my mind unbidden. Mortals crave descent. The link provides the anchor. A pinpoint ritual stabbing toward me.

A whisper too faint without focus. But enough to pinpoint the planet across dimensions.

I split a fragment of my cosmic ritual, following the whisper's path.

A sliver detached from my mind, piercing the dimensional wall to a specific galaxy. Specific planet.

Good. Descent at last.

—Crackle.

Boooom!!!

Ah.