An official duel. It had been a while since Dallion had taken part in a duel. As things stood, he didn’t even know whether the person who had challenged him back in Nerosal was still alive. A lot of things had taken place in the last few years, including an outright civil war within the Wetie province.

Looking at the noble facing him, though, Dallion had the feeling the rules would be slightly different this time.

What’s the protocol about these things? he asked within his personal realm.

Don’t run away, Adzrog said with a dry laugh. In all seriousness, dear boy, there are no specific rules. As a domain ruler, you could come up with anything. The only duels that matter in your world are outright wars. Everything else is for show, so you decide how to handle it.

No rules. That made sense, given what the Moon had mentioned during the last gate. It also meant that Dallion had the authority to make an ass of himself or his opponent.

“Nothing to say?” the noble said, full of bravado, but anyone with a high enough music skill could tell he was tense.

And to think I used to be like that, Dallion thought. However, while there was a time when he had challenged nobles ten levels above him, he had the benefit of being a hunter.

“Are you sure you want to?” Dallion asked. “It’s a bit too early to take me head on.”

“That’s why he isn’t.” A plump brown-haired man a short distance off smirked. Even among the crowd, he stood out with a set of trousers made of dark onyx thread, and a shirt that shifted color from ruby red to emerald green. Most notably, he had the Mizovy crest prominently displayed on his clothes in sun gold threads. “He challenged you to a test of skill, not a fight.”

That sounded like a poor excuse and a use of semantics. There was little doubt in anyone’s mind that Dallion would win. The issue was how he’d handle the challenge itself. Would he refuse, would he go all out, use magic, or impose additional restrictions on himself to level the playing field?

“Fine,” Dallion said, then cast a three-circle spell, summoning his harpsisword. “I’ll fight you without magic.”

The murmur in the crowd was less than he expected. Apparently, the mentioned condition was the very least he could do.

“Any other advantages you’d like?”

This time his comment hit its mark, causing a small explosion of anger to occur within the Salista noble.

“Scum,” he said through his teeth.

“What he means is bumpkin,” someone else from the crowd added. “You don’t even know how to handle a duel.”

“Then why doesn’t someone explain it?” Dallion asked, bursting into twenty instances.

Instantly, all laughter and most of the chatter ceased. No one could tell whether Dallion was serious or not, but no one wanted to risk finding out. After all, it was all fun and games until someone got skewered by an imperial. Even if he were a baron and a wildcard from outside the capital, he remained a member of the imperial family.

“Permit me to do so, Baron,” a female voice said, as a black-clad figure with platinum blond hair suddenly emerged on the scene.

Another overseer? Dallion wondered.

This was the third one he’d seen so far and, if Ber could be believed, there were many more.

“Since this is a challenge duel, Viscount Salista is allowed the first strike.” The overseer said. Meanwhile, the nearby buildings moved back, transforming the section of the road into a circular arena. “The area will be neutral and controlled by me. The duel continues until surrender and might take place within the real world as well as any of your awakened realms.”

Combat during realm invasion? It wouldn’t be the first time Dallion had used such a trick in battle, but was surprised the overseer, and everyone else, was so open about it.

“Magic and combat splitting aren’t permitted.” The overseer turned to Dallion. “Killing outside of an awakened realm is not permitted. Leveling up during combat,” she turned to the viscount, “is allowed but not recommended.”

Interesting that she hadn’t mentioned anything about stakes or rewards. Clearly, victory and bragging rights were reward enough. Looking at it from that perspective, higher-level awakened were at a disadvantage. No one was going to be impressed should Dallion win, yet he’d be the laughingstock if he were to lose. What was more, the no killing limitations made things tricky; nothing prevented his opponent from going all out, relying that Dallion would keep himself from inflicting any actual harm.

Gradually, all the instances faded away, leaving only one.

“When do we st—”

Before Dallion could finish, the saber’s blade shot out at him like a venomous snake. Segments stretched like a whip blade, though instead of having a thread to keep them together, they were linked to each other like a chain.

The speed was greater than Dallion had imagined, almost to the point of matching his own. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one with overpowered weapons and as he knew from experience, when it came to such masterpieces it was the weapon that made the warrior.

The first thought that passed through the baron’s mind as the chain blade passed above his head was to reply with a line attack. On a battlefield, this would be the best solution. Here—it would earn him a one-way trip into a prison item.

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Crap! Dallion thought. Just like sheltered nobles were clueless when it came to real fighting, he had a lot to learn when it came to pretend combat. The way his opponent stood, there were a dozen ways for Dallion to slash him to pieces, yet all of them involved actually hurting the viscount. I don’t suppose cutting off an arm would be okay?

The heavy sigh from Adzorg made it obvious what the answer was.

Taking advantage of Dallion’s reaction, the viscount attached again, twisting the saber like a whip.

Blocking the strike with his own blade, Dallion leaped up, avoiding the segments as they attempted to coil up around him. Unfortunately, the block was all his opponent needed.

REALM INVASION

There was no time to hesitate.

PERSONAL AWAKENING

He had reacted fractions of a second after the red rectangle had emerged, but even that proved not to be enough. Three massive stone arches had emerged in the sea, each containing a portal through which dozens of ships sailed towards the shore at full speed. Each ship was filled with about three dozen echoes of warriors whose level vastly exceeded that of their owner.

“Ah, the good old hidden attack strategy,” Adzorg noted, appearing beside Dallion. “Useless in all but one case, but quite devious when it comes to duels.”

“You don’t say.”

“It was popular back in the day when people relied on armies to defend their personal realms. Then it quickly fell out of favor.”

“Why did that happen?”

“As it turned out, bribing the original of a few echoes proved surprisingly efficient. After that, people started having trust issues. And, of course, only the lowest of the low would resort to making multiple echoes of the same person.”

“Of course.” Having four echoes of himself, that was probably another reason for Dallion to be ridiculed among polite society.

Normally, he’d be able to dispose of the invading force without an issue. One major spell and the entire sea could be transformed into fire. Sadly, he had given his word that he wouldn’t use magic.

“Better hide for a bit Vermillion,” Dallion said, then dashed towards the bay of his realm.

One after the other, islands in the distance submerged until there were none of them left. At that point, Dallion leapt up and did a triple line slash.

Three lines of destruction split the air, aiming for the small flotilla of ships. The wooden hulls burst into splinters. Simultaneously, the ships’ entire crews leapt up, avoiding the attack.

Battle hardened, Dallion said to himself. Good thing they weren’t furies or he might have to resort to different means.

“Vihrogon, lend a hand, will you?” Dallion said as he dropped to the ground. “Just don’t use any magic or splitting.”

Where’s the fun in that? The dryad didn’t sound particularly pleased, but appeared nonetheless, holding a pair of wooden blades.

In one swift dash through the water, he reached the first concentration of enemies, dispatching them with as much ease as a child popping a bunch of balloons.

“Leaving others to fight your battles?” Adzorg asked.

“No.” Dallion smirked. “I’m a noble now. I’m delegating.”

In truth, he was standing back, waiting for the inevitable follow-up. If someone had come up with the plan to overwhelm his realm with numbers, it had to be because they were keeping something in store. If not, this would end up being the most pathetic attempt at a realm invasion.

The dryad kept on slashing enemies as he danced on the water with his pair of blades. Some of the attacking echoes attempted to put up a fight, often even combining in groups. Sadly, being reduced to a single hit made things practically impossible. With Vihrodon’s skill level, the best thing they could hope for was to get a few hits in before they were poofed out of existence.

“Where are you?” Dallion concentrated, looking at the invaders. Ships kept on entering through the portal arches, but there was no sign of the viscount.

Just then, Vihrogon’s blade met metal. The echo he was supposed to have pierced not only didn’t disappear, but did a multi attack of its own, causing a cluster of red rectangles to stack up in the air.

For the smallest of moments, the magic threads of the entity shone through, letting Dallion know that it was anything but an echo.

“Get back!” Dallion ordered, speeding along the water’s surface like a flat stone along a lake.

Spinning both blades in defensive fashion, Vihrogon quickly retreated, though not fast enough to escape the ongoing attack.

Seeing the position his shield guardian was, Dallion unsummoned him from the field, then modified his realm, causing a small island to emerge.

“Harp,” he ordered, summoning his bladebow.

The harpsisword disappeared from his hand, reemerging in the form of Harp, who quickly engaged the enemy. This time, as their weapons clashed, the echo’s skin and clothes melted off, revealing none other than another Dallion.

“Copyette,” Dallion hissed, setting foot on the newly formed island.

“So, you’ve come across one already?” A new ship emerged from the invasion portal. On it was Viscount Salista, wearing a hull set of blossom armor. A lot of time and effort had gone into it, for it looked just as massive as March’s, only made of sun gold. “Then you know what to expect.”

It was normal to face opponents with family heirlooms that contained experienced battle guardians. Even one of the Nox Dagger’s original guardians had been a copyette. But that wasn’t the biggest issue. Among the magic threads, there was one more thing that Dallion had spotted: A thread of black void among the rest.

“Where did you get the saber?” Dallion asked.

“Too much for you?” The other smirked. “Word is that the second empress had a harpsisword given to her by the emperor. The weapon has been passed down for generations until it vanished. Maybe it’s the one you have there?”

“Where did you get it?” Dallion repeated.

“You’re not the only one to have generational weapons. The difference is that I’ve earned mine.”

The copy-Dallion split into two, engaging with Harp. Blades clashed against one another, sending sparks everywhere. As much as Dallion didn’t want to admit it, the copyette guardian’s skills were close to the dryad’s.

“Shield, can you deal with the echoes?” Dallion asked, gripping his bladebow. “I don’t want any of them to mess up my realm.”

As long as there are no others like him, shouldn’t be a problem, the dryad replied.

“Good. I’ll deal with the viscount.”