A stray thought that would gnaw at me, time and time again. In regard toward what was it that qualified one to be considered an Effigy. Could it truly be boiled down to just the act of being summoned? Had that indicator, that elusive status of an Effigy be in part due to having a Unique SKILL? I couldn’t find that answer as I was presented with information that worked against those ideas. And yet, standing before me now, had been someone who could be considered an Effigy based on a simple title. A title I didn’t have myself.
An Effigy from Isluna...? A title...? What...?
That masked man, Yojim, was just that. An Effigy, blatantly outing himself as one. He then alluded that I myself was an Effigy in that same breath. I could feel my thoughts swirling, mixing and acting against each other in undiluted disorientation. That internal chaos had to be put aside for a moment as Yojim continued walking away.
“Wait...!”
I could hear my own voice crack as I felt akin to standing on an adrift boat amid a blackened sea. It was disquieting, suddenly learning that I didn’t hold that same mark as the Effigy before me. And that same person had now come to a stop, slowly turning toward me in response. I couldn’t see his expression, but I could feel his eyes on me as I refrained from meandering.
“How...did you know I was an Effigy...?”
There was no room to play the fool here. Curious of his speculative tongue, yet I stood with a heightened pulse as my thoughts attempted to paddle within that blackened sea of sudden ignorance—in the lingering silence that came between us.
But am I...not an Effigy...? Marna stated that I was, didn’t she...? Yet, by the logic here, I should have the title of 'Effigy of Dormou' or 'Cretho' if that were the case... So, what exactly is going on here...?
“LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!! It’s finally time for the beginning of the semi-finals, starting with group one! Here, we spectate in awe, of two individuals that swing their arms in oppressive prowess! Let’s finally have at it, folks! The unparalleled Lord Vostoun versus the half-giant, Krogr!”
A sudden and familiar voice filled the halls as thousands of cheers followed along. I stood, impatient, awaiting Yojim’s reply as he then reached for his mask. Upon removal, I was met with a single, opal-colored glimmer from his left eye.
“A Wizard.”
I flinched at his sudden statement, startled, immediately questioning whether he held the same [Investigate] skill as I did.
“You’re assumed to have been summoned in Dormou, the lands of the Elven. From there you traveled into the Central Region, where you stayed in Druhwood for several days. Trouble followed at every turn, leading you to the Balsamic Ruins. You then headed here, to Nefra from Firspur, is that correct?”
A rather detailed account of my journey over the course of a month after leaving Dormou. He was now looking away from me, hand resting on his chin and eye at a downcast in thought. I couldn’t understand how this person had known about me to such a degree.
“Are you listening, Wizard? That is you, correct?”
Yet, the way he referred to me had made it evident that he hadn’t used [Investigate]. I then forced an attempt to bring about a lulling to my own self as I heaved a slight joking tone his way.
“...You’re quite informed, I didn’t think I had such an avid follower—a stalker even—this whole time...”
His eye then met my own two as he reequipped the frowning mask, turning away from me once more. And before I could stop him, he responded.
“I’ve now confirmed who you are. Though, it wasn’t that difficult with how carelessly, and without a smidge of prudence, you displayed your magic during those previous fights.”
I began following him on instinct, as he didn’t seem to have any intention on stopping.
“I’ve also been briefed that you fight in a rather peculiar way, with two separate staves at the same time. You haven’t used that yet, have you? I hope you’ll allow for me to witness that as your next opponent.”
Briefed? Is he possibly working under someone else then or does he have others working for him instead...? Either way...
He was trudging along at his own pace, one that I was seemingly getting wrapped up in. There were many questions I was itching to ask, but I still had yet to confirm the safety of Alisa and her child in the old church. Despite seeing Yojim’s status, I hadn’t known why he was currently confronting me nor how he had learned in detail about my travels.
“...Sorry, but I don’t have any intention on fighting you. I just want an answer before I leave... Who exactly are you and what do you want with me...?”
“My name is Yojim, a fellow Effigy. I am one who does unto others, as I’d expect they do unto me.”
He turned toward me, hiding his expression behind the eerie, frowning mask. One that held a white base, a glower of red, and yellow, sunken eyes.
“At first, I was urged to capture you. Now, I’ve been instructed to kill you, and I will do so today during our match. I hope you’re prepared.”
❖
I now stood amid a shifted field, one adorned with black flowers on either side, while a single path of porcelain white connected my next opponent and I. That person being the apparent Effigy of Isluna, Yojim, who was now on his knees and meditating across from me. His sheathed weapon, one resembling a slightly curved, single-sided blade—a katana—sat neatly in front of him.
“You have no other say in this matter besides two choices. Personally, I’d advise you to participate and refrain from running away, unless you’re willing to risk other casualties. I ask that you choose wisely, Wizard. There’s no need to involve others—just you and I.”
A final warning before he headed for his designated entrance into the arena. I had no other choice but to stand in front of this man now after his vague threat. Yet, he also seemed on the side of not wanting anything to happen to anyone else either.
Are his orders that important to him? Why the hell am I even... Either way, I have no intention on losing here. No matter what.
I began looking over the field, as my eyes were met with two separate flowerbeds of black. It had eluded me the first time, but as I took a closer look at them—they were seemingly the same flowers that were attached to the messenger of the Enheim Forest in Druhwood. The grounds itself didn’t seem as if it were created with a battlefield in mind either.
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“Why would they choose a field like this...? And these particular flowers...”
I had only ever seen them during my time in Druhwood, and never anywhere else. And as I gave it more thought, I couldn’t recall any flowers as the one’s before me in MO either.
“It’s time! A semi-final between the two dark horses of group two! I’m sure it will be an amazing martial exhibition to witness—is what I’d like to say! Though, here we have two combatants of abnormal fighting styles! Surely, it will at least be an interesting exchange! Right? The instantaneous swordsman will now face off against the low-down and dirty mage!”
The announcer spoke in his usual, quizzical tone. Yet, as I snuck a squinted glance his way, he was smirking in my direction—and his smile didn’t meet his eyes. Instead, they were sharp and seemingly probing at my entirety.
“Everyone! Please rest assured. I can hear your murmurs, your dissatisfaction in the chosen arena field for this fight, indeed! Trust that this field will allow a pure and uncontested against focus between the two combatants! Without worry toward any obstacles, traps, or any annoying outliers! With that being said, allow us to finally begin!”
I readied my quarterstaff as my eyes were once again directed toward a still kneeling and unmoving Yojim.
“STAAAAAAAAAAAAAAART!!”
I simply blinked at the cue that began our fight, and the split moment I opened my eyes again, I was greeted by a sudden voice.
“As long as I don’t allow you to use your magic, you’re a non-issue. You’re a mage after all.”
Accompanied by a pressuring strike toward the center of my quarterstaff, Yojim was now in front of me with his weapon already drawn my way. A relentless barrage of precise swings in succession, all aimed at that center of my weapon. Leaden in confusion, his own movements and attacks were comparatively unreal, swift and weighty. One strike would feel like three, three would feel like nine.
“You’re not as strong as I thought you’d be, Wizard. I was told to be cautious of you, but I could strike you down—right now—at any moment.”
“Ghrgh!?”
A strike into a back-step, a lunge in a stab, a pivot into a hammering slash—I couldn’t keep up with him at all. Vaalyun and Baacas’ movements had both paled in comparison to the man before me now. And he was correct. Had it not been for his intentional aiming toward my quarterstaff; I would have already been defeated. The onslaught continued, and a storm of powerful strikes, hit after hit, further pushed me as I could barely catch my breath.
Shit! I need to...!
In the mere second that he shifted into a back-step and readied another lunge, I immediately withdrew my [Abysmal End] and attempted to create distance between the two of us by making use of [Fast Casting].
“Casting: [Force Push]!”
In a flustered state, I aimed toward the ground as I was now pushed into the field of scattered black and green. Yet, Yojim remained overwhelming.
“It won’t be that easy for you, Wizard.”
A sudden tempest of wind encircled the two of us, as the haunting dance of the black petals became the backdrop to the man that had reached me yet again. My effort toward escaping was in vain. With his blade sheathed, he then hunched over before me, readying to draw at the tail end of his skill.
“Skill: [2nd Facet - Flower of Distant Shores].”
Three synchronized slashes that seemed as if they were from a single swing, yet produced without him having even drawn his sword. Two aimed at each of my shoulders, whereas the final and most potent strike once again greeted the center of my quarterstaff—sending me flying in agony amid the blackened field.
“Aaargh!!”
I tumbled across the arena, in panicked belief that my arms were torn off by the illusory bites of his blade. Yet, as I came to a stop, I immediately clutched at my shoulders. The two strikes had sunk deeply into my skin, but I still remained with the ability to move. It was apparent even more so than ever now—I was being kept alive for whatever reason.
“I am one who does unto others, as I’d expect they do unto me.”
“He says... What a load of bullshit...”
I stood from the flowerbed, resting one hand against my left shoulder while holding my quarterstaff in my other. Looking toward Yojim, he was now walking in my direction without any rush as his blade remained sheathed.
“I’ve tried my best to give you a chance to turn your whole situation around, Wizard, have I not? You haven’t lost until you’ve drawn your final breath after all.”
“You say that, but I still don’t remember doing anything in particular that should warrant being gifted a sudden, yet confusing death, you know...”
It didn’t make any sense to me whatsoever. I could only loosely conclude that it had to do with why the Effigies would all arrive at the same time. Even so, a thought like that was just that—a uneducated theory.
“Have you not heard, Wizard? Apparently, this set of Effigies is far different than our predecessors. The world itself is destined to change toward an incoming era like never before.”
“I have, yet what does that have to do with—”
“Before you arrived, several months had gone by as the time of this world drifted on in a stagnated peace. I’m certain the other Effigies have heard the same by now, but we were all waiting on that final one to arrive. So, what says you, the one that will now be the main reason as to why that prior peace will come to an end?”
“That’s...”
I had no answer for him. It hadn’t occurred to me until he asked, that the chaotic era that Marna had referenced could have possibly been forced to come into play at my arrival—and my arrival alone. It was gut-wrenching to even humor that thought.
“There’s your answer, Wizard. It’s a long shot, but maybe it will all work out in the end. That is, if I kill you here.”
At the cusp of his walk into a dash, I immediately began casting my spells in response. With his unparalleled speed, he once again reached me within a blink of an eye.
“Casting: [Point of Invulnerability]!"
“Unique SKILL: [Zen Channeling], Aether Skill: [Magus Break]."
"Casting: [Sundered Boon]!”
"Skill: [4th Facet – Guiding Stroke].”
The words hastily left our mouths as if we were both speed-casting skills and spells, racing against one another. Then came a piercing thrust forward, as his aura-coated blade met my buffed quarterstaff. A chiming shockwave took to the whole arena, as the meeting of the two weapons and skills then scattered the black flowers around us. A second later, I was suddenly sent flying once again, but this time, I pulled out my stave and invoked my three preemptive spells upon stopping.
“Casting: [Divination], [Mark of the Quarry], [Phantasmal Touch]—?!”
Yet, the moment the last two spells activated, they had seemingly failed against Yojim. Not only that, something felt off about my entirety—including my mana. And as I questioningly gazed at my hand, I could hear his voice once again from afar.
“It’s an anti-magic debilitation, one similar to your own debilitating magic that you failed in using against my [Zen Channeling]. The former is an Aether Skill that's derived from my Apothecary specialization. You won’t be able to use any higher-tier magic for a short amount of time. But...”
With his blade returned to his side, he made his way to me as he continued.
“That’s all the time I need to finish this anyways.”
Our clash against each other recommenced, yet this time, I at least had a better insight on defending against his assault in due to casting [Divination] prior. And then it suddenly happened without a moment’s notice. I could feel Cruubi of all things, from afar, being affected by something—a baleful aura. I instinctively turned my head in the direction of where it was echoing from, some place in the direction of the slums as a split-second vision then came to mind.
“You don’t understand, ⌧, every part of my very being is urging me to put an end to her right here! My body and soul are screaming to me, telling me that this thing shouldn’t exist! I’m begging you, ⌧, stay out of the way! I have to do this!”
“I won’t let you, ⌧.”
The vision was seemingly enshrouded in a blurred tint as the strained voices were akin to barely audible static. Yet, the moment I attempted to make any sense of it, I was suddenly pulled back to my ill-fated reality.
“Looking away? You seem to have accepted your fate, is that it, Wizard? Very well."
"Shit—!"
"Aether Skill: [8th Facet – Rivers of Crossing Severance].”
I couldn’t react quick enough as I was then pulled from one blurry vision into a now darkened view. One that came at the result of a descending blade.