Guardian Wiphilud (1)

On a plain a short distance from the Crimson Bandits' stronghold, I loosened up, working my body through a few easy motions as I prepared for the fight. Across the field, Dwain was doing the same, stretching at a distance.

Just how strong was he? A knight's experience fused with a vampire's body — he had to be something close to a monster by now. A thrill rose in my chest, warm and bubbling. I found myself hoping, secretly, that he was good enough to push me all the way to the brink.

"Shall I lend you a hand as well?"

"No."

Unless a fight was truly desperate, there was no need to borrow Sun-bask's power. Anyone short of a Death Knight like Liam, I could handle on my own.

"Well, he doesn't look stronger than you, Lady Clitia."

"You trying to kill the mood?"

"But appearances have nothing to do with actual strength!"

That pre-fight tension was half the flavor of the meal. She'd nearly turned the whole dish bland in a single sentence.

"Keep your mouth shut and just watch."

"Yes."

By the time I'd quieted the noisy relic, we were more or less ready to go.

"Clitia, I shall be cheering for you."

Eluke, who'd come along to watch, stepped up behind me and began kneading my shoulders.

"Is there any spot that feels uncomfortable?"

"Nope."

"Just in case, I shall cast a holy spell on you once the battle is over."

Her voice and manner had gone strangely gentle, almost fawning. Why the sudden change? It was a far cry from her usual calm composure.

"Did something happen?"

"I thought it would be nice if we — being the same person — grew a little closer."

"That's weird."

"Do you not wish to become friends with me?"

She was hiding something. I was sure of it. I couldn't say why, but the feeling sat there all the same.

"Should you ever have something weighing on your mind, please tell me. Counseling is my specialty."

I nodded for now and took a few steps forward. The suspicion lingered, but this wasn't the time to dwell on it.

"I'm ready."

"Wait."

Dwain exchanged a few quiet words with Wiphilud, who'd come along with him, then walked out onto the field.

"I'm ready as well. You haven't forgotten the rule — the match ends only when one of us surrenders."

"Of course. Shall we start?"

I circulated my mana, spreading it evenly through my body.

"Let's take this easy."

I figured I'd start light and get a feel for his level.

"You'll regret that."

Dwain unfurled a pair of bat-like wings from his back. Two pairs of them, actually — enough to create the illusion that his whole frame had grown.

"There's no sun here to shine on you. What makes you so confident?"

A full moon hung in a pitch-black sky. Midnight — the hour when a vampire's power surged to its peak. That was why he'd accepted my proposal so readily. He must have thought the conditions favored him.

They didn't. Day or night, I had the advantage. That never changed.

"Guess you didn't know — the moon only shines because of the sun."

Moonlight was sunlight, in the end. The Goddess was always watching over me. Even now. This very moment.

"Faithful, for someone who's been excommunicated."

The words were a taunt, but there was warmth in his eyes.

"A spirit that holds onto its convictions through hardship — that's a treasure not everyone possesses."

Talking to him kept making me think of Ivar. They looked identical, of course. And their personalities overlapped more than I'd expected.

"I've ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠talked too long. Let's begin."

Dwain beat his wings and rose into the sky, the pale moonlight at his back.

"I won't hold back just because you were my brother's comrade."

"Please don't."

I dropped into a low stance, ready to counter his dive. A quiet standoff. Neither of us said a word. Time stretched.

A gap opened — the briefest window as I shifted my footing. Dwain didn't miss it. He dropped, fast as an eagle stooping on its prey, razor-sharp nails streaking toward my heart.

I twisted aside, and his other hand stabbed for my throat. Nails sank into my neck, digging in, hunting for the carotid. But I'd already reinforced my body with mana. It was a shallow wound, not even enough to outpace my regeneration. Worse for him — I'd caught his hand.

"How did you—"

Attack failed. The price was a heavy counter. I drove my fist into his stunned jaw, and his head snapped back under the force. Another blow, this time to the gut. To finish, I snapped his nails and hurled him into the air.

"All that, and you just made me bleed for nothing."

I layered the heightened Aura over my arms and legs.

"That was your only shot at beating me."

I sprang upward, light as a leaf. The distance vanished in an instant. Target: the solar plexus. My fist shot forward, carrying the full force of the leap, and I felt it punch through muscle and bone.

His left shoulder. He'd twisted at the last second. The blow missed its mark — no killing wound. Still more than enough for a serious injury. I grabbed Dwain as he groaned in pain and slammed him into the ground.

The impact hit his waist dead-on. The fall had been hard enough that he couldn't even move. To make sure, I stomped on his right hand. The sound of bone crushing. Just like that, the match was decided. Almost disappointingly so.

"Surrender."

I'd taken out his primary means of attack. He wouldn't be able to fight me now. But I hadn't officially won yet. Someone had to surrender for it to count.

"I refuse."

Of course he wouldn't go down that easily. This was Ivar's brother — a man who hadn't flinched before the Demon King. He wasn't going to fold over something like this.

"I'll give you this. You're an opponent worth facing."

His face was twisted in pain, but his mouth was working just fine. He was even grinning, savoring the moment.

"What's so funny?"

"It's been a long time since I felt this alive."

Dwain sat up in one sharp motion, showing off a left shoulder and right hand that had already healed clean.

"Round two."

He rose into the air once more.

"This is where it really starts."

His sharp nails were soaked entirely in blood-red, a thick, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠fog-like aura pouring off them. Then Dwain slashed wildly at the empty air. Every arc of his claws sent five blades of blood raining down.

The ground below was helplessly exposed. Even the hard earth sliced apart as easily as tofu. Even I needed to be careful with an attack like this. I'd never actually checked what happened if my head got cut off.

I wrapped myself in Aura, just to be safe. A dark crimson barrier stopped the blood blades cold. I could have sat there defending all day, but that wasn't my style.

I compressed Aura into my hand, packed it in as tight as it would go, round and dense like a stone. What I ended up with was a throwable Aura projectile with more destructive power than most siege weapons.

"If a normal person got hit by that, there wouldn't even be a corpse left."

Not a problem. He wasn't normal, and he wasn't a person.

I dropped the Aura wrapping my surroundings, twisted my waist, and lifted one leg.

"This is going to hurt."

I coated my shoulder in Aura and hurled the cannonball in my hand with everything I had, straight at Dwain, who was still pouring down slashes. It flew fast and hit him square in the gut.

Dark crimson Aura exploded. His entire lower body was blown apart. For anyone else, that would have been instant death. A vampire, though — hard to say. I didn't let his falling body get away. I punched it.

Blood scattered. A torso tumbled across the dirt. A perfect victory. No room for argument.

"You can't beat me."

I walked over to Dwain, who was twitching in a wretched heap.

"You haven't had a real fight in a while, have you?"

Becoming a vampire made your body superior. He'd already been a knight — he must have gotten several times stronger. But in the Desolation Zone, you almost never ran into an equal. When he went out raiding for blood, he'd just crushed people with raw power. Even an exceptional body rusts if you don't use it. He'd gone stiff for too long. He couldn't draw out his full potential anymore.

"Right now, you're just an ordinary vampire."

His combat power fell short of a pureblood's. Nowhere near enough to beat me.

"You're right. Even I think that was a pathetic fight."

Dwain lay back on the bare earth. His missing lower half was regenerating, bit by bit.

"The warrior in me already fell the moment I became a vampire and took up banditry."

He didn't look upset. If anything, he looked brighter. Relieved, even.

"Watch closely. This is the end of a man who abandoned his convictions."

"You're a vampire. You won't die."

"It wouldn't be an exaggeration to say I already have."

If he said so, then I supposed that was that.

"You're the true warrior here."

"I'll take the compliment."

I stared down at him for a moment, then spoke.

"So. Surrendering?"

"Sorry, but this isn't over."

Not a hint of broken will in ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠his voice.

"Have you still not figured out why I made surrender the victory condition?"

"Because you weren't going to give up no matter what?"

"Half right."

Dwain grimaced through the pain, but he was still smirking.

"I will never yield until I draw my last breath. You won the fight, but you'll never have a true victory."

I understood. He was winning in his own head.

"And meeting my end at the hands of a powerhouse like you is something I actually wanted. You can't win — but I get my honor. Therefore, I win."

Ridiculous. Completely absurd. It was so outrageous I almost wanted to laugh.

"Are you just going to let that slide?"

I gave a small shake of my head, then said the words I had to say.

"...Why are you smiling?"

My heart gave a sharp, electric jolt. So intense my legs nearly buckled.

"You did really well."

Dwain's logic was nothing but a tantrum. A cheap trick, calculated from the start to cover even the possibility of losing. I hadn't seen this coming. And that was exactly why it hit me so hard — a psychological defeat, manufactured by the most underhanded means.

"So no matter if I kill you or spare you, I still can't win. That's the situation, right?"

"That's terrifying. I'd appreciate it if you stopped smiling."

I didn't care. I let myself savor the ecstasy. The rapture that only defeat could give. Wasn't this what I'd been running toward all this time? Nobody could make me miserable. Laughter spilled out of me, endless, overflowing.

"Clitia, congratulations."

Eluke approached and laid a hand on my shoulder.

"Savor it to your heart's content. I am always on your side."

Another comment that raised questions — but this time, it barely registered. This was my moment.

The fight was ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠over, but the situation wasn't settled. Dwain had passed out. Clitia was too busy being happy.

"Let us handle this."

Eluke proposed a negotiation to Wiphilud.

"Honestly speaking, Clitia won, did she not?"

"Even I have to admit he was being unreasonable."

A dry tone, with a faint trace of embarrassment.

"Then will you follow our terms?"

"Let's call it a draw."

"Very well."

A solution that wasn't bad for either side. They reached an agreement without much difficulty.

"Then let us head back."

Eluke looked back at her other self, standing still with her eyes closed, quietly savoring the moment. It was a stretch to call that a loss, honestly. But she'd wanted it so badly that she was simply, purely happy.

"I shall calm Clitia down."

"Wait. I have a question."

"What is it?"

"Are you two the same person?"

The question caught her completely off guard. She'd been covering her face the entire time. How had he known?

"Strange. You two are identical."

"You mean our appearance?"

"No."

Wiphilud slowly shook his head.

"Your souls are murky."

"Pardon?"

"You're both contaminated. Same concentration."

"......"

The question of how he could see souls dropped down the priority list.

"You must not tell Clitia. Under any circumstances."

Eluke made sure the gag order was airtight. It was a secret that still needed to stay hidden.