Otherworld Rift
"This makes no freaking sense..."
It wasn't a matter of skill. I could see all of Kallan's moves clearly and responded perfectly—hell, I dismantled them. There was no way I could've lost.
"So why?"
Something felt off. It was nothing like in my dreams. My body felt sluggish, especially the flow of magi—it was painfully slow. That's the truly bizarre part. My physical condition was at its peak. No major difference from the dream world. My magi reserves were the same too. But it was like... my thoughts couldn't keep up with my body? Or maybe the other way around.
"Like moving through water..."
It's not like I had no ideas. If my guess is right, it's a problem with the harmony of essence, energy, and spirit. My body, energy, and mind aren't unified, creating an imbalance. When essence, energy, and spirit achieve perfect balance and unity, it's called the realm of Three Harmonies Return to Purity.
A demon's body adapts to magi. But that doesn't mean the body instantly toughens up when magi grows stronger. As magi increases, the body slowly grows to match. The bigger the surge in magi, the longer it takes for the body to catch up.
"Right now, my body just hasn't caught up to my energy and spirit..."
In the dream world, my body grew alongside my magi, maintaining Three Harmonies. But reality is different. My energy and spirit grew fine, but my body is still in the process. The magi's sluggish flow must be because my real self hasn't reached Three Harmonies yet. They say in that realm, intent alone controls your inner power.
Some of the magi inside me feels locked away, like it's under a seal—probably because my body hasn't fully matured. I could probably force it out... but my instincts are holding it back. That means it'd put massive strain on my body.
"Eh, whatever."
No point overthinking it now. Even if it won't move at my command, the fact that it's dormant inside me is undeniable. Time will sort it out.
"...No, wait. I don't have that luxury."
Judging by my current real-world level, it's around when I first beat Namgung Sim. Pitiful compared to dream-me—even Kallan toyed with me for one exchange. I keep forgetting lately, but this is a proper dark fantasy world. Slack off, and I'll get gruesomely killed.
"Guess I'll figure it out at home."
Maybe some exercise will speed up the growth. More importantly, it's time to head back. I left Bella with just a note—I've been out way too long. She's definitely gonna chew me out.
"Might as well refine my lightness skill on the way."
Honestly, my lightness skill mastery isn't that great. My footwork and body techniques are decent since I always focused on them even in dreams. But...
Lightness arts? Never really needed 'em.
I've always preferred closing in for brutal close-quarters brawls to end fights quick over dragging them out. In dreams, dying just hurt—no real consequences. But in reality, lightness skills will be crucial for proper fights. Against overwhelming foes or hordes, you'd need mobility for guerrilla tactics—or to bail if it's hopeless.
Dark Shadow Step, Imperial Cloud Bell, Infinite Steps, Heavenly Phantom Nine Palaces... I roughly mimic the lightness techniques I've seen. Each clan's arts carry unique intent and principles, and cycling through them one by one sparks real excitement.
"Feels great."
The northern chill should bite, but the cool air brushes my cheeks like a soft caress—refreshing as hell.
Tougher than I thought.
I used to think it was just about walking and running fast. Wrong. It's thighs, glutes, even the meridians and muscles inside—subtle shifts demand precise power control. Not knowing the full intricacies and formulas doesn't help.
I only learned by getting pummeled and copying—not proper training.
To use them right, I'll need dedicated practice to refine them into my own style.
"For now, just sprinting might be faster."
No big deal. Mastering lightness arts is fun and exhilarating. Like adding spice to daily life. I stumble like a drunk, staggering through weird, unheard-of steps.
"Ahahaha!"
Still makes me laugh. When did this start? Practicing martial arts feels irresistibly fun. Way more than my old life drowned in games, YouTube, and dopamine hits—even if it's not "proper" arts, just rough imitations from watching over shoulders.
It's fun.
Today's me is stronger than yesterday's. Tomorrow will be too. That constant sense of becoming better—that's the real thrill of martial arts.
I never wanted to go to the Academy before. Regina Diabolos was just a mid-boss doomed to die to the protagonists.
But now? Hell yeah, I wanna go.
Not martial arts exactly, but learning from renowned Academy professors sounds intriguing. Unlike the dream world where they just charge and die, imagine detailed, step-by-step guidance. Exploring that difference would be a joy. Plus, it's a chance to fill gaps in this world's common sense. And see all sorts of races up close.
"No reason not to."
If they really treat me like a mid-boss and try to take me down, I can just bolt with my lightness training!
"Can't wait to enroll."
I wasn't this studious before—I've changed a ton. Shaking off the sentiment, I refocus on lightness when something weird catches my eye.
"...Huh?"
This is the deep north. Should be buried in snow, everything white under biting cold.
"That's..."
Dead center of the snowfield, a spot where the snow's inexplicably melted. About 2 meters across? Curiosity piqued, I approach cautiously—then the air shimmers. The ripple intensifies, the space itself warping until—
Crack. A rift tears open in the air.
Oh.
Instinctively, my hand flies to the sword hilt at my waist. Replacement for the one shattered in the duel. I know exactly what that is. Mentioned endlessly in Dust Saga.
"An otherworld rift."
Otherworld beings, deeming their corrupted beasts insufficient to breach the frontlines, create these anomalies. Something from beyond is descending here.
My mind races, scouring the story for this event. Answer comes quick—only one such descent three years before main story start. Spawned several bad ends in Dust Saga.
The Star of Extreme Cold heist. Or...
The Northern Frontline Annihilation.
An otherworld avatar ambushed from the rear, nearly wiping the Northern Frontline. By the time elites arrived to hold the line, the avatar had snatched the divine relic "Star of Extreme Cold" and vanished.
In other words, stop this, dodge those bad ends.
Can I?
Fallback to the frontlines and team with Kallan? Nah. If one extra person could've stopped it, they wouldn't have lost the star. Fight solo here?
No chance... or is there?
Event mentioned a few times in canon—from barely surviving Sword Ghost Kallan.
'First come four scouts for recon and search.'
All Sword Expert-level, but Kallan and soldiers could've handled them. Current Kallan is top-tier Expert anyway. Real problem follows.
Mad Dragon Seiar. Manifestation of a dragon gone mad from otherworld god's power—flipped the entire frontline. A final-chapter boss back then; pre-story, an unstoppable calamity.
But their goal is solely the "Star of Extreme Cold." Frontline wipe was secondary. Proof: scouts grabbed it and dipped, then Mad Dragon rampaged.
So...
Block the scouts, and I win.
No star taken, no Mad Dragon. Now, how to stop four Experts solo? Frontlines too far—I've come way too deep.
"...Fuck it. Whatever."
When have I ever overthought a fight? Just charge in.
...Haven't really life-or-death battled in reality yet, though.
Make a huge racket, hope Kallan or someone notices and backs me up.
Worst case, force out the dormant magi. Don't know the backlash on my body, but stopping this is worth it.
I draw the sheathed sword. New blade, not broken in, but it slides out with a smooth shing. Plain design, solid craftsmanship.
Adopt ambush stance, kill my presence. As the ancients said: first strike wins. Hit 'em the moment they cross. Might drop one quick if lucky.
"...Let's do this."
[Character, Regina Diabolos? confirmed intervening in a key branching point]
[Calculating...]
[Character, Regina Diabolos? judged to have high probability of easily overcoming current situation]
[Imposing trial upon Regina Diabolos?]