Chapter 81: Written at Elio's Request
That person standing across from her had short gray hair and matching golden eyes, yet the lines of his face were sharper, firmer, and his entire temperament radiated a freezing cold. It was exactly like looking at a reflection that had somehow shattered the glass and stepped out from the other side of a mirror.
"Although I don't understand what you're muttering, since this is a battle, then let's go!"
A massive, crimson greatsword materialized in Stelle's grip, the heavy metal humming with latent heat.
"Flames of the Blaze!"
She drew the weapon back, the air around her distorting from the sudden spike in temperature.
Launching herself forward, she slashed toward the peculiar youth like a fiery red meteor tearing through the atmosphere. But the boy simply shifted his weight. He dodged as if he had read the script of her attack long before she even moved. With just a slight, casual side-step, he allowed the roaring blade to graze harmlessly past his ribs.
Stelle's boots slammed into the ground. Without missing a single beat, she pivoted on her heel, channeling the kinetic energy through her hips and waist to swing the greatsword in a massive, sweeping arc. The sheer velocity of the strike tore through the air, leaving a blazing, fan-shaped afterimage of pure fire in its wake.
Yet, the gray-haired youth was already moving. He ducked low, slipping beneath the arc of fire before it could even reach him. As the blade passed overhead, his right hand snapped up, his palm slapping lightly against the flat spine of her greatsword. The physical force behind his touch was minimal, but the angle and timing were absolute perfection. The kinetic energy of her swing was instantly neutralized, the heavy blade deflected off course.
No matter how fiercely she attacked, the opponent seemed to know the exact coordinates of where her strikes would land.
[.em,taefed,ot,yrT ]
"Then let's try and see who falls first!" Stelle roared, refusing to back down.
Boom!
Blinding red and deep blue energy collided violently in the dead center of the chessboard, sending shockwaves rippling across the checkered floor.
Outside the boundaries of the chessboard, Welt stood with his arms crossed, his brow furrowing slightly.
Something about this setup did not seem quite right.
It did not take long before the spatial boundary rippled. Dan Heng and Stelle emerged from inside the chessboard, stumbling back into the real world. Both of them were in a state that could only be described as poor, though to varying degrees of exhaustion and battered clothing.
"Dan Heng, you don't look very well," March 7th pointed out, her cheerful voice tinged with genuine concern.
"I'm fine. I just recalled some past events."
Dan Heng shook his head, his pale face tight as he tried to wave off her worry. Just moments ago, trapped within the illusion of the board, he had come face to face with Dan Feng. It was the physical manifestation of his predecessor's lingering obsession, the very shadow that Dan Heng was trying with all his might to escape. The encounter had drained him more mentally than physically.
"Stelle, how was it on your end?" March 7th quickly changed the subject, sensing Dan Heng's need for space.
"I don't know." Stelle shook her head, her golden eyes clouded with deep confusion. She leaned heavily on her weapon. "I feel like he didn't want to fight me at all. Every single time I was about to hit him, he had already dodged, as if he knew exactly how I would attack before my muscles even twitched. And the things that guy said... I couldn't understand a single word."
"What did he say?"
"I can't make that kind of sound."
"Is that person's throat broken?" March 7th tilted her head.
Stelle shook her head again, finally planting the tip of her greatsword into the floor to steady herself.
"No..." Stelle scrunched up her face, seemingly trying hard to recall the bizarre auditory sensation. "His tone was completely reversed. It was exactly like someone taking a tape recorder and playing a sentence backward. It was all glitchy gibberish. I didn't understand a single word."
Sitting nearby, Rekka did not offer any explanation to Stelle. Some things simply did not need to be explained for the time being. When the right time came, she would naturally understand the truth behind her mirror image.
Welt remained standing to the side, his sharp gaze wandering over the glowing lines of the chessboard.
"Rekka, is this arbitration space only restricted to those currently residing on the Astral Express?"
"Of course not." Rekka shook his head, a faint, chaotic amusement dancing in his eyes. "Anyone who is willing can enter."
Stelle looked at Rekka, then turned her gaze toward Welt, her expression turning thoughtful.
"Mr. Yang, what kind of obsession do you have?"
Welt adjusted his glasses, a complicated shadow passing over his mature features. "It's a long story... Let's talk about it another time."
Rekka looked away from the group, his attention drifting down to the transparent container resting on the table. Inside the glass, the miniature planet of Jarilo-VI was slowly, peacefully rotating, its tiny snowstorms swirling across the frozen continents.
March 7th stared at the chessboard for a long, quiet minute. In the end, her natural curiosity completely overpowered her caution.
"Then... can I go in and try?"
"You can," Rekka replied casually.
March 7th reached out, her fingertips brushing against the edge of the chessboard. Instantly, her figure dissolved into a brilliant beam of pink and blue light, merging directly into the artifact. On the black grid of the board, a perfect reflection of March 7th materialized. However, her expression was completely hollow, her eyes devoid of light, looking exactly like a butterfly specimen frozen in a specific moment of time.
It was a stark contrast to the ethereal, moonlit illusion of the Long Night that had enveloped Dan Heng's trial earlier.
About thirty minutes later, the space warped again. March 7th tumbled out of the Phantasm Arbitration, groaning loudly as she clutched her stomach.
"That hurt so much... finally... I won..."
"You won? That's amazing!" Stelle immediately leaned in, her exhaustion forgotten as her golden eyes sparkled with excitement. "What was that 'you' like? Was she strong?"
"Especially... terrifying. It was only by teaming up with my other self that I barely managed to defeat her."
"Wait, there's another you?" Stelle blinked.
"Uh... actually, this is a little secret, but I actually have a split personality."
March 7th scratched her cheek, looking a bit sheepish under the sudden spotlight.
"But our relationship is very good! I often communicate with my other self at night, and when dawn breaks, she writes a whole page full of words to answer me."
"Just now in the arbitration space, were you fighting together with her?"
"Yes." March 7th nodded enthusiastically. "That space can actually separate the two of us and let us appear in the physical world at the exact same time. Otherwise, I definitely couldn't have defeated the other me... the other her on my own."
March 7th shook her head, getting dizzy just from trying to explain the logistics of her own mind.
"Anyway, it was the two of us fighting one, and we barely managed to scrape out a win."
Stelle nodded slowly, rubbing her chin in deep thought.
"So, you're actually a dual-core processor?"
"...What kind of messy metaphor is that!" March 7th threw her hands up, left completely speechless by the deadpan comparison. She could only sigh helplessly. "Forget it, forget it, dual-core it is."
"Then, March, do you have to buy two sets of clothes? What if the styles she likes are completely different from yours?"
"She wears the exact same clothes as me, okay!" March 7th rolled her eyes, feeling that the topic was aggressively derailing into nonsense. "And our aesthetics are basically the same. It's just that she likes that kind of... um, more aloof and edgy style."
While Stelle and March bickered, the rest of the crew did not think there was anything particularly strange about the revelation. However, the longer Mr. Yang looked at March 7th, the more he felt a strange twitch in his eye.
Why did he suddenly have such a massive sense of déjà vu?
Another self residing within the same body... communicating through written notes... possessing a colder, more aloof demeanor...
Welt pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, suppressing a sigh as memories of a certain scythe-wielding girl from his home universe bubbled to the surface.
"But March is strong," Stelle praised, patting her friend on the shoulder. "Actually being able to win is impressive, even though two-on-one isn't exactly a fair fight."
"Hehe, that's called a righteous gang-up!" March 7th puffed out her chest proudly.
"Congratulations, you have passed the first level of the Phantasm Arbitration," Rekka announced, his voice cutting through the celebration with a dry, amused edge.
"...Huh?" March 7th froze.
"It means that although you did pass the Phantasm Arbitration, this was only the first level. What you just barely scraped through was the most basic, entry-level difficulty."
"Wow, there's a second level? Do you think this is a video game?!" March 7th shrieked, her eyes widening in horror. "I was almost beaten to a pulp by that Phantylia inside, even with my other self helping me, and now you're telling me this is just the beginner's tutorial?!"
"Of course, that was only the lowest difficulty," Rekka said, leaning back in his chair with a completely unapologetic smirk. "The second and third levels are the actual main event. I don't accept negative reviews, but the rewards for clearing them are extremely generous. They can help you uncover latent potential you didn't even know you had."
"I'm not fighting anymore, I'm not fighting anymore." March 7th waved her hands frantically, backing away from the chessboard as if it were radioactive. "Even if you kill me today, I won't go back in there. I need to let my other self have a good rest. Just now, to protect me, she took several heavy hits straight to the face."
March 7th collapsed onto the plush fabric of the parlor car sofa, her stomach still aching faintly from the phantom impacts of the battle.
Then, a sudden realization hit her. She looked up, blinking innocently at her two battered companions.
"But wait... Dan Heng, Stelle, you two actually didn't even pass the first level?"
Stelle's expression instantly stiffened, her jaw locking tight.
'Damn it,'Stelle thought, her eye twitching.'I let the silly March show off...!'
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