The Regressor Is Startled (3)
The Regressor Is Startled (3)
"..."
I was so dumbfounded I froze in place for a long moment. The daze held until the black cube crumbled.
"Congratulations!"
"Congratulations!"
The shower of flower petals and the trumpet fanfare that blared from all directions jolted me out of my thoughts, but my mind stayed just as muddled.
"...What?"
What just happened?
I patted myself down in a daze. Nothing had changed. I had regressed. I'd seen this before. But why?
I absently rubbed the spot on the back of my hand where I'd felt the pain. The sensation was the distinctively firm yet smooth texture of leather. Right. The Transparent Gloves had been doing their job.
So then why? Why had I regressed?
"Hmm..."
I let Raphael's apparition ramble on before my eyes while I considered the possibilities. What could have triggered the regression?
First: my Clone actually had a damage reflection ability, or if the Clone took damage, I'd take damage too. So when I swung my sword, a tiny scratch on him reflected onto me and triggered the regression.
"No way."
Of course, that was a ridiculous guess. Not only did the tutorial version of me lack any reflection ability, but I'd aimed for his neck anyway. A neck wound would have mirrored to my neck, but the injury I felt was on the back of my hand. That killed the theory.
So, second.
"..."
It would make sense if the Clone had struck the back of my hand.
But that was just as nonsensical. The me from the tutorial and the me now were worlds apart. I was technically and physically superior.
"..."
Then why had I regressed? Had I just been fooling myself about how much I'd grown, and in reality I wasn't that different from my tutorial self?
Just like there's no meaningful difference when an F-rank Hunter gets promoted to E-rank—was there any real gap between a pathetic novice swordsman and a slightly less pathetic one?
"Hoo."
Countless possibilities surfaced and faded. A few felt plausible, but I had nothing to confirm them yet.
"With that, I wish you the best in your continued efforts. I'll be going now."
Raphael's apparition vanished after finishing its lengthy speech. I slowly straightened up.
<Floor 5>
-Clear Condition: Defeat the enemy before you.
My Clone shambled toward me from a distance. His eyes were still unfocused, and his mouth kept muttering something.
"This time will be different."
I channeled mana through my entire body, pulled my rear foot back slightly, and let my sword hang low. My nerves were razor-sharp, prickling until I could feel the very flow of the air.
But I refused to attack first. My body was in perfect condition, yet I held my distance and waited for my opponent's move.
In the last cycle, I got hit on the back of the hand. The key question is: why the back of the hand?
A blow there can definitely be fatal for a swordsman, but honestly, an injury to the fingers would be far more critical. Lose even one of your five fingers, and you lose an enormous amount of gripping power.
And yet he struck the back of my hand. Coincidence? No. The odds were high that he also knew that if I take damage, I regress. He must have targeted my hand on purpose.
Which meant my opponent was already aware of my greatest weakness. If I made the first move, I'd be far more likely to expose an opening. It was smarter to wait for him to act.
"..."
"..."
But since I didn't move, my Clone didn't move either. We stood there, each picturing potential moves, but not a single opening presented itself.
"Hmm..."
Even if I could understand my own passivity, why was he being so passive? As if he'd regress if he took damage.
"Hey."
"..."
"Do you regress if you get hurt too?"
"..."
The Clone didn't answer and just kept mumbling. On the surface I wore a relaxed smile, but inside my mind was a tangled mess.
What happens if that Clone also has 'Regression [EX]'? If he gets hurt, do I regress along with him? Does that mean to clear Floor 5 I have to subdue him without either of us taking damage?
If I gently applied a chokehold from behind, maybe I could subdue him without triggering a regression. Tch. Troublesome.
"...First, I need to wound him."
To build a foundation for my countless hypotheses, I had to land a hit on him. I'd observe what happened next and decide how to proceed from there.
"Hoo..."
I exhaled deeply and gripped my sword a little further down the hilt. I needed to maximize my reach so I wouldn't get hit.
"Hup!"
Shrrrk!
A full-power thrust, the culmination of all my experience to date. The Clone twisted his waist, narrowly dodging it, while simultaneously rotating his sword wrist to aim for my forearm.
"Ha-ha!"
But that was within my predictions. I immediately dropped my sword and yanked my arm back. The Clone's blade sliced through empty air.
Seizing the opening, I stomped down hard at his stepping foot. Surely, even he wouldn't have expected me to abandon my sword.
"?!"
But the Clone's sword, which should have clearly cleaved the air, was somehow already guarding his leg.
Ckaaang!!!
"Aaarrgh!"
My shin collided brutally with the sword, ringing out with a clear metallic clang.
[You have taken damage.]
[Regressing to the moment you first entered Floor 5.]
***
"...Was my slash just a feint from the start?"
He'd read my intention to drop the sword. It was absurd, but it was reality.
Did I really fight that well in the tutorial? Was I actually a kid with real potential?
Or else, was that Kim Jun-ho in a state heavily stacked with 'Hero' traits?
"There's no way..."
Although, to say that, my Clone genuinely fought too well. To be precise, he was overwhelming me technically.
I had the advantage in raw physical ability. With my stats plus mana, that was a natural outcome.
"..."
But for some reason, he wasn't being pushed back at all. Not only did he evade my attacks with uncanny movements, but he also completely read my intentions and countered them.
This was a blatantly strange situation. The Archangel had certainly issued this as a task out of some sense of generosity, so what on earth made it so difficult?
"...No way."
A hypothesis surfaced, but it was so horrifying that I immediately shoved it into a corner of my mind. This is really too much.
Rather than dwelling on negative thoughts, the priority was to test the solution I'd just come up with.
<Floor 5>
-Clear Condition: Defeat the enemy before you.
The message window appeared, and the Clone staggered over. But this time I was different.
"...Come."
"..."
In this cycle, I intended not to attack first no matter what. Why? Because I had the advantage in endurance.
My stats were higher than the Clone's. That meant my physical body was superior.
Now, if we faced off like this all day, who would collapse first? The still-pathetic me from the tutorial? Or the current me with amped-up stats and mana? The odds were high it would be him. I didn't know how long it would take, but in a war of attrition, I would absolutely win.
Even better, if he collapsed from exhaustion, no one would take damage. A truly perfect solution.
Let's see who wins. I was just thinking that, a smirk tugging at the corner of my mouth, when—
"...!"
The Clone suddenly leaped. He came down from above, swinging his sword in a wide arc, totally riddled with openings.
"You've lost it!"
He seemed to be rushing in after realizing he had no answer, but his attack was incredibly clumsy.
Tap!
I simultaneously took two steps to the right and gripped my sword tightly to stab him. With a motion that big, dodging it was child's play.
Just as I had completely escaped the path of his sword and was about to launch a full-force thrust, he taunted,
"Now, what are you going to do about this...?"
In mid-air, the Clone's sword changed direction.
Usually, what is heavy is straightforward, and what is light is ever-changing. That is the law of the world.
But his sword was different. The trajectory of his blade, which had been bearing down hard, suddenly bent ninety degrees. An impossible feat that truly defied physics.
"...Huh?"
Naturally, since I'd been mapping the flow of combat within the bounds of common sense, I couldn't react in time to that unreal strike.
Slice!
I retreated belatedly, but a long horizontal gash was carved across my chest.
[You have taken damage.]
[Regressing to the moment you first entered Floor 5.]
***
"This is just wrong."
I'd held it in until now, but this was truly, historically absurd.
I mean, a sword coming down from above suddenly bends ninety degrees and cuts me? Does anyone think that makes sense?
"Hup!"
Fwoosh!
I tried mimicking the motion in the air, but I only hurt my wrist—I failed to replicate it. No, how the hell did that bastard do it?
The Clone is me from the tutorial, and I am me from Floor 5. It's only logical that I'm stronger. But right now, the Clone was putting on an unbelievable performance. Had Raphael possessed him with the soul of a sword god just to mess with me?
"..."
No, I had actually already figured it out. I was just trying hard to deny it.
"Fuck..."
Spitting out a curse, I looked across the arena. After enough time had passed, the Clone trudged toward me.
I stared at the Clone standing before me now and compared him to the image I'd seen when I first entered Floor 5.
"Hey."
"..."
His already dazed eyes had now completely lost their light, turning black and dead, and his muttering had become a language I couldn't even recognize.
"You..."
My hypothesis was correct.
"How many times...?"
That Clone had already regressed countless times.