Chapter 126 - Duel (II)

Vern’s head was a mess of pain and fog. His eyes reflected a blurry, dizzy world, but the grays of his perception made it clear that he would be proverbially dead if he didn’t do something quick.

He assessed his meager options, and realized he had close to none. Running away was the only valid choice, but he was a little too late to start now. However, the pain in his back reminded him of the pillar and it clicked in his head.

Gritting his teeth, he gripped the sword hard and slashed behind him at an angle—the purple edge vibrating as it cut through the pillar like a hot knife through butter.

A fissure appeared in his perception at the point of impact, and he mentally grabbed hold of it with maddening fervor as Lucian reached the peak, on the verge of descending to obliterate everything in his path.

Creckk—the pillar groaned, yet Vern realized this single slice wasn't going to cut it.

Ah, damn this! Vern bit his tongue, funneling an overwhelming surge of energy into the effort, focusing much of it on creating another fissure at the top to hasten the fall.

His eyes burned with intensity, but the payoff was immediate and dramatic. Crack after Crack extended around the pillar's circumference, severing it from both top and bottom with a definitive thump.

The middle segment began its sliding descent due to the smooth cut, and he pushed back at its base as if his life depended on it. Predictably, the top started to tilt, with Vern becoming the unwitting pivot for the pillar's demise.

Glancing back, he caught Lucian's gaze, now wilder with frenzy, as a gigantic marble slab appeared right in his path.

Yet, the man didn't care and smashed right through it with his sword.

Bhamm

A tinge of fear washed through Vern as a web of cracks ran down the height of the pillar before exploding into debris and stone.

Vern swallowed the blood that his internal organs couldn't seem to keep together and took this chance to leap out of the way. Disintegrating everything that came flying his direction with either his sword or eyes, he cleared out of the area.

Dust swirled everywhere, and the crowd went wild with their cheers. However, Vern paid little mind to it as he barely found his footing and focused on the balance within his body—hoping to heal some of the damage.

Just need to make sure I don't create anything new. With Cedric's warning clear in his mind, he assessed his own skeletal frame and quickly noticed many broken ribs.

Stability. And the moment it activated, it was as if worms crawled inside his body, shearing at his flesh and organs. He let out a sharp breath, distracting himself by focusing on the surroundings.

"Haha-Hahahaa! You're full of surprises, man. Thought I had you there for a second." Lucian huffed, veins pulsing near his glowing blue eyes amidst the settling dust and rubble.

Vern didn't know why Lucian wasn't using this chance to rush him and finish him off for good. Because if he did, Vern wouldn't be able to resist much with his internals in such a tangled mess.

Maybe it's because of that last Vision? Seems like it didn't come cheap. Which made sense because it was a disgusting ability—being able to pass through objects selectively.

Vern simply kept his mouth shut. He realized he wasn't a big fan of talking during combat. It wasn’t optimal because he was missing out on the psychological warfare that came with it. Well, only so much I can do in my first real fight.

However, Lucian wasn't like that. "I'm quite mad at myself," he chuckled. "I should clearly have the advantage in this fight, but you're still standing there, almost unscathed."

My ribs would like to disagree. Vern grumbled internally but maintained an outward front of strength, brushing off his coat as if shedding the fight's weight. At least he had managed to stabilize his internals a bit.

"Guess I underestimated you," Lucian admitted with a forceful thump as his sword cleaved the earth effortlessly. Locking eyes with Vern, he declared with a deliberate pause between each word...

"Not."

"Anymore," and his eyes flared like stars before a blue radiance blinded Vern momentarily.

"Wahh! He disappeared! Wait, did you all see that?"

"What kinda vision is that!? Do you know his shade sequence?"

The volatile crowd continued to shout, and Vern's slowly relaxing heart suddenly ramped up as his perception faced something entirely new for the first time.

A haze of darkness settled over his grays, making him work twice as hard to perceive them. However, they weren’t entirely gone like usual.

It was as if Lucian had taken subjective ownership of everything around him, but only partly. What was worse was that he couldn’t sense where Lucian was at all.

Usually, Observers were like beacons of darkness in a world of light—like the mirror spirits. But right now, everything was dull, and there were no gaping holes to guide him.

Vern furrowed his brows and gripped Duality harder as he stood there, trying to pick up most minute of the changes.

Suddenly, the air rippled behind him, and—

Clangg

He barely managed to turn around in time, deflecting the thrust that was about to impale his back.

Fuck! He sliced back at the elusive figure, but the silhouette was gone before he could even graze its flesh.

Vern's heart fell as all his mental simulations pointed to a similar result of such passive back and forth. Lucian's combat style forced him to be defensive.

First, he couldn't chase the guy because of the ropecaster and had to wait for him to come to him. Now, it was worse than that—Lucian held all the initiative.

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This is bad—a non-optimal balance, really. I need to find ways to shift it.

So Vern pivoted unpredictably, using quick surges of instability beneath his feet to alternately hasten and decelerate his movements.

He could just focus harder on his perception and try to suss out Lucian, but then he would be going down the same path as Cedric—and be blindsided by that limited perspective.

Also, Mistress pointed out that too much dependence on his perception, which just depicted 'stability,' wasn't enough for a real fight.

So he kept a sharp eye on every little thing around him—the rustle of the wind, the pathing of the snowflakes, the tremors of instability.

That's when he felt tiny signs of disturbance at nine o'clock, and a sharp glint crossed his eyes.

An opportunity! He whipped his left hand to intercept the incoming assault, and intercept it did with a resonant Tangg. However, another sound mingled with all this.

Tch-Tching sparks flew as his right hand sprang into action, the tendons in his left straining under the effort to counteract the formidable force.

"Huh!?" A surprised yelp escaped the shadowed figure before Vern, but it was already too late. One blade, black as night, parried the blow while its purple counterpart gleamed fiercely, slicing a deep gash through the gear strapped to his adversary's belt.

YES! Vern cheered, pressing his advantage, but his quarry vanished once more, leaving behind a cascade of cogs and gears that tumbled to the ground.

"Woah he managed to take out the Kingsmen's gadget. Lucian’s fucked."

"Lucian didn't need it anyway. Are you not seeing how he's playing him like a fiddle?"

"Damn. This sneaky guy really playing dirty, huh? Come on, Lucian, show him!"

"Whoa, he's wielding dual blades!? Wait. It’s from the Finnesse workshop, isn’t it!? Only they make stuff like that! Holy! Another—"

Vern drowned out all the yelling and cursing, tuning back into his heightened sense of his surroundings.

But this is good. He'd managed to cut off Lucian's primary method of escape. Now, I just need to figure out what to do about this overpowered vision.

Vern's left hand was numbing fast. The impact of those strikes was more damaging than anticipated, far beyond a mere scratch he could mend with stability.

Fixing such damage without somehow also making it worse was beyond his current understanding.

Hmm, he has to be spending a lot of Representation to pull this off. Clearly, keeping the subjective ownership of their environments, even if partly, had to be draining.

How did this even work? Is it kind of like me back in the mirror realm at the start, where I only somewhat understood the water?

Hmm, maybe I can still control this. He imagined a wave of instability spreading all around him, turning the dull world a notch brighter.

His eyes flared bright, but all that appeared was a tiny wave of radiance that got swallowed by the darkness in no time.

Tch. He clicked his tongue. What is going on? Something happened, but not enough to drive any change. But doesn’t this run counter to the second axiom of observation?

How could he ‘somewhat’ observe it? That's when another change appeared in his surroundings, and he pre-empted a slash, Rustle.

His sword hit nothing.

A feint?

Swoosh, something else moved behind him, and he jumped away, but again, there was nothing.

Oof, he's being smart about it. Lucian was trying to confuse him with all these feints.

Once, twice, thrice…each of them forced him to react to the best of his capabilities without being able to figure out anything new.

Suddenly, a massive blade materialized, looming ominously above Vern. With no time to spare, he switched both swords to their most stable form, crossing them overhead in a desperate guard—

Bammm.

The impact sent shockwaves through his body, the earth beneath him shattering, his knees buckling under the unprecedented assault. This direct hit was more than just brutal—it was crippling.

Barely deflecting the force, Vern gritted his teeth, his vision blurring with pain as he ducked and staggered forward, targeting the shadowy figure. Yet, the moment their steel disengaged, Lucian faded out of existence once more.

Fuck. I need to do something.

He scrambled for any solution, trying one failed strategy after another, but to no avail.

Each attempt left him more vulnerable, the situation growing increasingly grim.

Everything somewhat worked, but not enough to break the cycle of relentless damage and evasion.

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"Hey, who do you think is going to win?"

"I gotta say, the guy with the dual swords is putting up a fierce fight, but my money's on the big guy."

"Man, the old blood's strength is unreal. Did you see him shatter the ground like it was nothing? I've only seen observers from Monster shade sequence pull off something like that."

"Seriously, with old blood this strong, do you think we're about to see a surge in powerhouses? It’s outside help, after all. I even heard rumors about some ancient ruin’s discovery, so they found more, right?"

"Forget it. Those hoarders at Kingsly Court have it all under lock and key, especially the good stuff. They’re just throwing away scraps at these pathetic lowbornes."

"Hey, shut up, man! We're in the Vigil, and for heaven's sake, the Eclipsed Reaper's right above us. I'd like to keep my head, thank you very much."

"Hmph. Whatever."

Arthur wove through the crowd, gathering snippets of conversation as he went. Each opinion added a layer to his understanding, a mosaic of perspectives that fascinated him.

However, he was most interested in the opinions of the Kingsmen. What do they feel about this?

So he climbed one floor after another and reached the walkway above the roof where Sir Osric and Lady Amelia stood.

Luckily, there were only a few people watching from up here, leaning on the railings. He conspicuously pulled an orange dagger from his pocket, chanted the name of Seraphine the Omniscient, and lightly nicked himself on the skin.

A sudden rush of terrifying thoughts burst into his mind, but he'd long gotten used to their onslaught. After a while, his pulse calmed down, and the sounds around him amplified significantly.

His ears began to pick up every little thing, but Arthur tuned out the ambient distractions, concentrating on the conversation unfolding beneath him. As Sir Osric made emphatic gestures towards the arena, Arthur's heightened senses caught the words clearly.

"What is wrong with that fool? Seems like I didn't beat the lesson into him hard enough."

What? Arthur hadn't expected that.

"I instructed him to cut the theatrics and go all out right from the start. Now look at him, barely holding his own."

Lady Amelia nodded, a slight smile on her face.

"And these rich brats? Watching as if it's some monkeys fighting in a circus. Tch. We should've gone for a place far from these prying eyes, like I said."

Lady Amelia's gaze then drifted back to the central tower. After a moment, Arthur's followed suit, sweeping across the building’s height until it settled on the pinnacle.

There, a blindfolded figure and another smaller person stood behind the window, both silhouettes casting a foreboding presence.

Arthur instantly looked away. Fuck me! It's Captain Akira. He shrunk into himself, trying to disappear into the background, pretending he hadn't seen a thing. The collective insights of the crowd meant nothing if it risked drawing the Prince's attention his way.

Yet, the remnants of the perceptivity ritual lingered, betraying him as Lady Amelia's words floated to him, "The Prince must have his reasons. He was insistent on Vern and Lucian clashing here in the Vigil, aiming for the grandest display possible."

Hmm, here I thought Gareth alone tricked all these people into watching this. Another reason for Arthur to keep a low profile. Clearly, the Prince was orchestrating something, and Arthur had no desire to become a pawn in his game.

Or at least not one that was captured.

"Yeah, but my idiot apprentice is dragging the Kingsmen's name through the mud. How can it take someone with twice the power and gear this long to win? It'd be one thing if Vern were one of the old blood, but this? It's a stain on our honor."

Mistress Amelia simply shrugged, "Should have taught him better."

"Pff…" Arthur struggled to stifle a laugh. Lady Amelia was straightforward, it seemed.

"Teach how, though? The kid's head is denser than a night beast's hide. He has the instincts of a grandmaster but the common sense of a fool."

Arthur nodded to himself. That's Lucian, alright.

Just then, a collective gasp from the others on the walkway drew their attention back to the garden below, and Arthur's eyes snapped to the unfolding fight.

Ohhh… his eyes lit up. Something was going on with the environment around the arena, and before he could figure it out, Lady Amelia's words cut into his thoughts, resonating with him.

"The fight's nearing its climax. Be prepared to step in."