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Jingozi [An Isekai LitRPG]
Chapter 42: LEAVING

Chapter 42: LEAVING

Chapter 42: LEAVING

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The spell card hovered just beyond my reach, pulsing with crimson light. Amplified in the Jingozi arena, I sensed the Zii emanating from it—almost tasting it. My hand reached out, fingers steady as they brushed its edge.

A figure stood beside me—not an enemy, not a stranger—but another me. It was an exact reflection, down to the angle of my hand, as I reached for the card. But this reflection was wrong, twisted. Its eyes, my eyes, gleamed with malice, a cruel smile playing on its lips as if it were in on a secret I had yet to learn.

“What’s wrong, Ember?” its voice a distorted mockery of my own. “Afraid I'm gonna kick your ass again?”

I scowled. Not here. Not now. I shoved the unease and dread aside and lunged, my fingers straining for the card.

The reflection twitched and streaked forward, snatching the card from the air. It twirled the glowing spell between its fingers, that same mocking smirk twisting its features. My features.

“No!” I shouted, my pulse hammering in my ears.

The reflection tilted its head, inspecting the card indifferently as if it held nothing more than a trinket. I charged and swung, but my fist met air. The reflection dissolved into a swirling cloud of black smoke, reshaping itself into a ghost—a Ninja wraith, untouchable.

“Really? You think you got this?” the ghost cackled. “Come on, Ember Lynn, stop being an asshole to yourself.”

I spun on my heel, teeth gritted, loading my cards. I blindly tried every shot and Ninja technique in my arsenal. Every card I threw, every spell I cast, it nonchalantly dodged, weaving between my movements with mocking grace. It mirrored me, always just a step ahead, flickering in and out of form like a demon dance partner made of shadows.

Each time I managed to land a blow, it shifted into smoke, only to reappear as my reflection once more, standing with that insufferable grin.

"You actually believe you can get home like this?” it taunted. “No wonder you'll always be poor little orphan Ember.”

"Go fuck yourself," I snapped.

"What do you think I'm doing?" it giggled.

Rage clouded my vision. I lunged again, reckless, desperate. But this time, the reflection took on solid form, sweeping my legs out in a blur. Pain exploded through me as I crashed to the ground, my side smacking against the stone floor. My leg twisted, the bone snapping before the sound reached my ears.

I screamed, the white-hot pain blinding me. My leg was shattered, but the reflection wasn’t done. It crouched over me, cold eyes gleaming with cruel glee, twisting my leg further until I heard another sickening crack. My hamstring tore, my knee popped, and my leg bent at an impossible angle.

I gasped for breath, my mind spinning in shock as I stared at my mangled limb. The reflection rose, its face now expressionless, watching me writhe on the ground with eerie calm.

As if I were nothing more than a discarded toy, it turned to leave, dissolving into ghostly smoke again. The spell card glowed faintly in its hand as it drifted away, leaving me broken and helpless.

“No,” I growled. “You’re not leaving.”

My ghost paused, its form wavering.

“You’re not leaving!” I hissed, pushing myself up on one leg, the other screaming in protest. The world spun, my vision blurred, but I forced myself to stand, quivering as I balanced on my one good leg.

The ghost pivoted slowly, its hollow eyes locking onto mine. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, it flew at me. I barely had time to brace myself before it slammed into me, its cold essence sinking into my skin like ice water. I gasped, my body stiffening as the freezing sensation spread through me, flooding every vein, every muscle, until it reached my core.

* * *

The cold was gone. No pain. No arena.

I sat on a mat, cross-legged, my hands resting on my knees. The faint scent of incense curled in the air. It had been two days since I arrived at Radiant Temple with Katorro, enough time to recover from our escape. Yet the peace I expected to find here eluded me. The stillness, even in the presence of the nexus, was almost unnerving.

I opened my spell inventory.

YOU HAVE LEARNED A NEW SPELL.

Spell: Spectral Strike

Burn seven (7) Zii to attack with +7 damage.

Level: 17

Deck Cards: 36 [Battle] / 16 [Spell]

“I know you’re there,” I announced, a flicker in the corner of the room drawing my attention.

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From the shadows, Sora emerged, as silent and stoic as ever, her eyes unreadable like stone. She crossed her arms, barely glancing at me.

“Katorro summons you,” she said flatly.

She turned to leave. I couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sora,” I called. “Why do you hate me so much?”

She paused but didn’t turn around. The silence lasted between us, suffocating as usual. I waited, hoping—no, demanding—an answer. But she said nothing. Instead, she took another step toward the door.

“You’re not leaving until you give me an answer.”

She didn’t stop.

“Tell me now!”

She was on me in an instant, faster than I could blink. A Jingozi card flashed as she leaped through the air, ready to strike.

I didn’t flinch. I didn’t move. I just looked her dead in the eye.

“Go ahead,” I said. “Either kill me or talk to me. But what happened to you wasn’t my fault.”

Her gaze shifted—just for a moment, a flicker of… something. The card in her hand hummed as she hovered above me, her breath shallow and uncertain.

Sora threw the card with a low growl of frustration, penetrating the stone wall behind me. She turned on her heel and stormed toward the door, her steps heavy with what weighed between us. I watched her go, heart pounding. But I let her leave.

There would be another time for answers.

* * *

Cragmarr stopped me in the hall on my way to find Katorro.

“How are you recovering, Em?” Cragmarr asked.

I paused, unsure how to answer. How was I doing? I didn’t even know. It was like walking in a haze, everything too much to sort through. I shrugged, trying to find the words.

“I… don’t really have an answer for that,” I replied.

He nodded.

“Any word from the Emperor faction?” I leaned on the pillar.

“Nothing,” Cragmarr shook his head. "They may think you are dead. No one could have survived that fall.”

“Maybe it’s better that way,” I said. “If Edric thinks I’m dead, we’ve got some time. I just don’t know what to do next.”

“It was a valiant plan, Em. Hiding your Jingozi abilities. Now I understand why you wanted my belt. That was clever.”

“Clever might be a stretch. Desperate, more likely.”

He chuckled and gave me a reassuring nod.

“Do you know where Katorro is?”

“In the prayer room,” he gestured down the hall. “He has been meditating there since your arrival while Sora tended to his healing.”

“What do you think, Crag?”

“About what?”

“Can he be my champion? My notifications say so.”

“I have never encountered this before.”

“It’s totally bizarre, right?”

“Indeed,” he nodded.

“Can I have more than one champion?”

“No, you cannot.”

“Well, that sucks.”

* * *

The prayer room welcomed me with the soft glow of candlelight, flickering shadows dancing along the cold stone walls. The air hummed with a quiet stillness.

In the center of the room, Katorro sat cross-legged, eyes closed in deep meditation. His scruffy beard and unkempt hair were gone, his head now smooth and clean-shaven, though his silver, bushy eyebrows remained. Still frail, he had a newfound strength, a quiet resilience that hadn’t been there since his imprisonment. His breathing was steady, his posture grounded.

Name: Katorro Hoshizaki

Tier 5 Jingozi Grandmaster

Faction: Ninja [Mystic]

Level: ???

The Katorro I imagined—my Jingozi champion—wasn't supposed to look like this. How could this slight, quiet man have once been a warrior, a legend? His smooth, shaved head and the lines etched deep into his face told a different story than the Ninja mystic Sora shared. The thick eyebrows, still defiant above his closed eyes, were the only remnants of the champion she described.

What had Overlord Edric done to him? How long had he rotted away in those dungeons to become like this? The resolve he was known for seemed distant now, almost as if it had been drained from him, replaced with this strange, peaceful resignation. Was that what Edric did to Jingozi champions? Stripped them of their fire until only a quiet, meditative shell remained?

I checked my notification log again.

FEAT COMPLETE: YOUR CHAMPION

Discover your tier champion.

“Sit,” he murmured, his voice like a low ripple. He didn’t open his eyes.

Folding my legs beneath me, I felt the coolness of the stone floor through the mat.

“Ask your question,” he said.

I hesitated. My mind was a jumble of thoughts, each vying for attention.

“How can you be my champion?” the doubt laced through my words.

“Why do you want me as your champion?”

“I don’t know…” I faltered. “You told me to find you. The Jingozi—”

“I am no longer a Jingozi Grandmaster,” he interrupted. “I have been stripped of my cards—my power.”

“But my notifi… how did Edric do this to you?”

“I failed and have been disgraced.”

“Oh.” I lowered my gaze, trying to mask my dismay. “I’m sorry.”

“Do you still wish for me to be your champion?” he tilted his head, eyes still closed.

“I don’t know.”

"You must believe to find your champion."

The air thickened around us, his words heavy with meaning. Doubt tugged away in the back of my mind. Cragmarr had just explained that only one champion could represent me. Was this truly the man who would guide me through the Jingozi tournament and help me get home?

“Close your eyes,” Katorro instructed. “Center your Zii.”

I obeyed, shutting out the dim light around me, and inhaled deeply. The air filled my lungs, each breath slower than the last, sinking me deeper into the quiet. Something stirred in the darkness of my mind—a pair of burning eyes, bright as fire, stared back at me—the eyes from my dreams.

“What do you see?” Katorro’s voice was distant as if it were drifting.

“Your eyes.”

“Then you see what I see.”

“I don’t understand,” I fought the temptation to open my eyes.

“Ask.”

There was a moment of silence until the first thing that came to my mind slipped out.

“How do I go home?”

“You already know, Ember. You must win the Jingozi tournament.”

QUEST: JINGOZI TOURNAMENT

Win the Jingozi Tournament for your final reward.

Prerequisite: Level 24

I stared at my final quest and fought back bitter tears.

“But how?” my voice cracked with frustration. “How, with you as my champion?”

“Complete your trials.”

“I have,” I blurted. “I survived forty days after Cragmarr—”

“Life is an infinite trial, as is Jingozi. There is no end.”

I wanted to argue.

“What is my next trial, then?” I asked.

"You must sacrifice three fathers."

I clenched my jaw, feeling the last threads of my patience fraying. Three fathers? I kept the thought trapped in my mind. What kind of cryptic bullshit is that? He couldn't mean literal fathers. Is this some metaphor for father figures?

My mind raced, thinking of my adoptive Japanese dad, wondering if he somehow factored into this bizarre equation. The constant riddles, vague prophecies, and ambiguous instructions became too much. I wanted clear answers, a straightforward path, not this labyrinth of enigmatic clues. My confusion was quickly morphing into anger, and I struggled to keep it in check. Can't anybody just give me a straight answer for once?

“I will show you, Ember,” he said.

Katorro’s eyes suddenly surged into my mind, sharp and overwhelming. His presence flooded my thoughts, cutting through my consciousness like a blade. Before I could resist, his mind took over, seizing control and pulling me into the depths of his will—into his fire.