Strange Grief Wants to Retire ~ The Weakest Hunter Dreams of a Hero ~ - Volume 7 - Chapter 5.2

“I hear it’s his real name.”

“And you believe him?! I don’t buy that this is a coincidence! Think about it, similar names can happen, but that and similar titles? What are the chances?”

Tino was troubled. Her master was god, but this was a tricky situation. He seemed quite fond of the fake him. Her master’s magnanimity was one of his strengths, but it could work against him from time to time. Listening in on the nearby chatter, it seemed the other spectators didn’t know which of the two was the real one. Krai Andrey and Krahi Andrihee. The Thousand Tricks and the Thousandfold Theurgics.

Tino’s master preferred to keep his face a secret, and though his title might have been known by many, his name and appearance were much more obscure. Of course, this was intentional on his part, but now it was acting as a detriment. If Krahi emerged victorious, it would be Krai who would be treated as the copycat.

But that didn’t change much for Tino; all she could do was give her master all the support she could muster. She slapped her cheeks. She couldn’t let herself fall into a rut when nothing had even happened to her. Seeing her master fight up close would be a good opportunity for her. She couldn’t just cheer him on, she had to make sure to learn from this.

And shortly after, the time came. The air in the arena changed. The fiery enthusiasm was amplified by the uncanny silence that now pervaded. A large man appeared in the spacious fighting ring. He was almost as large as Ansem the Immutable. He was also the man who had used overwhelming force to dominate the previous Supreme Warrior Festival.

Under his right arm, he carried a metal rod that was even bigger than he was. It was made of adamantium, the heaviest and most durable material in the world—barring that of some Relics. Tino had learned what a capable warrior he was when last year, he used nothing but his muscles and a large rod to smash through any spell or technique that came his way.

Just looking at his exposed muscles caused Tino to shiver. She could barely believe this man was the same species as her. Was it another miracle of mana material that had allowed him to become stronger than a monster or a mythical beast? In all likelihood, how one might overcome this man was a conundrum pondered by all participants.

The previous Supreme Warrior took a quiet breath, then let loose a voice that boomed like thunder. The sound rattled Tino and she covered her ears immediately. She suspected someone might faint if they stood close enough to him. When you stood at the top of the world, you could do things like this.

“A year’s gone by! Overcoming all odds, more challengers have gathered to compete for the right to the Supreme Warrior! Let the tournament begin!”

What simple words they were. But Tino could see it—the man’s eyes glinted like those of a predator before its prey, his voice yearning for bloodshed. He was waiting for whoever might challenge him.

Tino had a hunch that this man would be the biggest obstacle on her master’s path to becoming the next Supreme Warrior. She would support him until the end, but even she couldn’t have much confidence that her genial master could beat this freak.

At last, it was time for the first fight to begin.

***

Finally. He had been waiting for this. The passion of the crowd carried on the air that brushed his skin. Every bit of him was brimming with anticipation. Krahi Andrihee the Thousandfold Theurgics closed his eyes, flipping an internal switch. He was in peak condition.

Until he had been invited to join Kule’s party, Krahi had been a solo hunter. When you don’t have anyone to potentially come to your rescue, being able to instantly prepare for battle is a necessary skill. Though he was a Magus, Krahi was used to fighting on his own, which was a valuable trait in this tournament.

Generally speaking, those suited to close ranges had the upper hand in the Supreme Warrior Festival. Sure enough, the previous Supreme Warrior himself was an aberrant mass of muscle. Krahi might tremble at the sight of him, but that didn’t mean he was going to accept defeat. He would claim yet another victory, just as he had many times before. You couldn’t be a hunter without the drive to come out on top.

But this time, Krahi wasn’t fighting just for his own sake. He wanted to become the next Supreme Warrior so the name Bereaving Souls would become legend. This was for his friends, who always stuck with him despite looking so uncertain of themselves.

“Give me your all, Krai Andrey. Once you’ve done that, I’ll shoulder your aspirations as well,” he muttered, then stepped out into the ring.

***

“Heh. They thought they could oppose the new boss. What dunces. Wait ’til they see what’s in store for them.”

“Indeed. Though that was a very close call.”

From a corner of the stands in the arena, Galf and Sora affixed their gazes on the ring. Both were in a rough state. Galf had a broken arm in a cast and was supporting himself with crutches. Sora, meanwhile, had no wounds to speak of, but her hair was disheveled and she looked absolutely exhausted.

It had been old-Fox versus new-Fox, and it had been a savage engagement. Just like Galf had predicted, the organization had tried to crush them with everything they had. They had been vastly outnumbered, but a series of coincidences had allowed them to escape.

There was the fact that all of Galf’s best members had already been gathered to his side for the operation in Kreat. There was the fact that the organization’s dedication to secrecy meant gathering information on Galf had taken time. There was the fact that they had the cooperation of Grieving Souls, Knights of the Torch, and other organizations Galf had formed an alliance with.

Also, the opposing side was inclined to try and keep their losses to a minimum. When they pulled back, it must have been because they realized that containment was impossible when they saw the fierce resistance put up by Galf’s forces.

The organization was in the midst of a huge operation. Rather than risk losing personnel and reducing their chances of success, they instead opted to leave Galf for later. Thus, what he had obtained wasn’t victory, just a temporary reprieve.

This would be his last chance to go into hiding. His helpers had already been relieved of their duties. Many of the bandits who had allied with him and his subordinates had been killed or wounded, leaving his forces at less than half their original count. There would be no winning the next engagement.

But Galf had to see his mission through to the end. This should let him understand why he had been deceived.

“I was never suited to be someone else’s underling,” he said. “This is refreshing.”

“Boss, are you sure you aren’t coping?”

It turned out this Maiden wasn’t so bad after all.

***

Dozens of meters directly above Kreat’s arena, a silhouette floated in the air. He wore a robe of pure black, a white fox mask covering his face. He stepped across nothingness while looking down at a black object—a Sounding Stone. This was Caelum Tail, a member of the top brass of Nine-Tailed Shadow Fox.

He bit his lip, vexed by his lack of progress. He had expected Galf’s forces to be smaller. Not only were his ranks vast, he had commanded them with all the ingenuity that had placed him in the seventh tail. Even with all the support he had mustered, Caelum Tail had been forced to withdraw.

The enemy was conspiring to drive Fox apart, though Caelum hadn’t realized it soon enough. Galf had lost some of his numbers, as had Caelum. In the end, it was his enemies who stood to gain the most from this internal conflict.

Disrupting an organization long mired in secrecy in such a short time couldn’t have been done without considerable preparation. This wasn’t the work of the Explorers’ Association or the empire, as Fox would’ve learned if such a large entity was planning something against them.

The Level 8 hunter, the Thousand Tricks, was the man who had crushed Serpent, an organization that had once rivaled Fox. With his track record of vanquishing foes through unparalleled information gathering and cunning, he could be considered Fox’s biggest obstacle. Caelum Tail wasn’t yet convinced that the man he had heard on the Sound Stone really was the Thousand Tricks, but it was possible, knowing that man’s abilities.

But he was young and naive. It would take much more than this to scare off Fox.

After this, the Thousand Tricks would no longer stand in his way. There was no end of powerful hunters out there, but none of them had the tactical skills to outmaneuver Fox. They might need some time to regroup after this, but that was a small price to pay for disposing of a threat early in the game.

Today, Rodrick Atolm Zebrudia would witness the death of the man who had saved his life, and Fox’s status would be cemented.

The boss looked down at the tournament bracket. “What a ridiculous move...”

The first fight on the bracket was Krai Andrey versus Krahi Andrihee. A card that felt like a joke, one people were referring to as the fake versus the real. Caelum didn’t know how the Thousand Tricks had managed to interfere with the fight lineup, but it was too half-baked to fool Fox.

Caelum had never met the Thousand Tricks face-to-face before, but even if he didn’t know which one was the real one, that could be resolved easily—he would just kill both of them.

Two dark-haired men stood in a large coliseum. The match would begin soon. Caelum would strike the moment one of them fell. The barriers around the ring were only meant to block outgoing attacks, not incoming ones.

Caelum narrowed his eyes and watched. The two figures appeared no bigger than beans from this vantage point, but he could tell they were talking. He just had to wait. The battle between the fake and the real, the no name and great name, wouldn’t last long.

He withdrew the focal Relic, Key of the Land. It was time for despair to make its appearance. This time, Fox would show its might to the world.

But then, something happened down below. Caelum couldn’t hear it, but he could tell a sense of confusion had abruptly taken hold.

What could have happened?

He squinted and saw that one of the men was holding up a hand. Then with a fierce rumble and a flash of light, Caelum was slammed by an immense force.

***

“What did you just say?” the black-haired young man asked incredulously.

His name was Krahi Andrihee, also called the Thousandfold Theurgics. He was Mr. Caution’s opponent, and an imposter.

Little Sister Fox smiled fearlessly, the way Mr. Caution would. Once more, she looked around the arena and said so everyone could hear her, “I said, I’m honored to meet the real one. But that changes today. I’ll defeat you, and I’ll become the true Thousand Tricks!”

It was a perfect plan. Internally, she patted herself on the back. Her ability to devise this plan the moment she saw the tournament bracket must be a sign of terrifying genius.

She didn’t understand how it had happened, but Mr. Caution had a lauded name among his fellow humans, and this man’s name was nearly identical. This plan hinged on both of those facts. Little Sister Fox’s plot would establish Mr. Caution as the fake one. He could deny it later, but that wouldn’t mean much when thousands of people had seen him say otherwise. His reputation wouldn’t recover easily.

All she had to do now was lose this bout before Mr. Caution recovered from the spell that had sent him wandering. He would lose without even getting the chance to step in the ring! Little Sister Fox pictured his shocked face.

Krahi Andrihee took a step back and whispered, “What? What are you talking about?”

“Surprised? Never expected there to be a fake? Did you think it was a coincidence that we became acquainted?!”

She just had to read his heart and connect the dots. With her powers, it wasn’t hard at all. But this man, Krahi Andrihee—he was a strange one. His eyes were clear, his heart was devoid of ill intent, and his soul had a glimmering sheen to match. And he wielded a Relic staff. His name came so close to Mr. Caution’s, but everything about the two was different. Even though he was magnitudes stronger than Mr. Caution, Krahi apparently occupied a lower station in life.

But what mystified Little Sister Fox the most was that this young man didn’t know of the Thousand Tricks, despite Mr. Caution’s supposed fame. What a strange world these humans occupied. However, this was to her advantage. If Krahi was intentionally mimicking the Thousand Tricks, that might’ve made this hard, but that wasn’t the case here.

The heavens had told Little Sister Fox to deceive, and so she would. Krahi, the audience, Mr. Caution, all of them.

She spread her arms in a show of complacency. She felt the countless sets of eyes bearing down on her. They were looks of curiosity, puzzlement, disdain. She enjoyed the disorder. Chaos was what the spectral foxes of Peregrine Lodge yearned for.

Krahi stepped forward. “There’s no need to say that, Krai. There’s no such thing as real and fake.” His voice was soft and trembling, yet carried oddly well. His black eyes, the same color as Mr. Caution’s, shone. “Nobody can become another person. I can’t become you, and you can’t become me! But we don’t need to! You’re just fine being you—Krai Andrey!”

What was this human talking about? Little Sister Fox wasn’t sure what to think of this man, who showed no signs of catching on to her ploy. The audience, meanwhile, was entranced by his commanding voice.

“It doesn’t bother me if you look up to me. It doesn’t bother me if our titles are similar. But please, don’t do something so disheartening as casting yourself aside in an effort to become me. You’ve already proven your greatness just by earning the right to be here. That wouldn’t have happened if you were nothing more than a facsimile. You’re Krai Andrey, and you look up to me! Don’t begrudge that fact. Accept yourself for who you are! And once you’ve done that, I’ll be more than glad to face you! We’ll meet again, in this same arena!”

The audience erupted with cheers. They must have assumed this was a performance. Now nobody was expecting anything of Mr. Caution. This was sort of what Little Sister Fox had wanted, but not quite.

After some brief considerations, she raised her hand, causing the arena to grow quiet. She had planned for Mr. Caution to become an object of mockery, but all she was getting was pity.

“What nonsense, my authentic counterpart,” she said. “I’ll defeat you here and now. This is the Supreme Warrior Festival, we’re supposed to fight before we begin any overblown speeches. Or do you think you can’t win?”

For a brief moment, Krahi looked sad, but he quickly mustered a roaring response. The wind blew, fluttering his black coat. Little Sister Fox’s eyes fell on his staff. It was metal, with a golden crystal at the top. And that was when it occurred to her.

“I won’t lose to a false you!” Krahi proclaimed. “You should pursue your own goals and ideals until you can identify your true self! This is for your benefit more than anyone else’s, Krai Andrey!”

Krahi Andrihee was talented, he had experience, and he had a stalwart spirit. But his most powerful asset was that staff he held. Lightning crackled within that crystal affixed atop it. It was a Relic, one specialized for enhancing one specific element. It could gather up the mana in its user’s body and amplify it with tremendous results.

Little Sister Fox took a step back. This man. He was a Lightning Magus, and not only that, he was so hyperfocused, he disregarded the other elements.

The sky and air both rumbled.

“In your own interests, I won’t hold back!” yelled Krahi Andrihee, the Thousandfold Theurgics. “The power of the gods, tempered relentlessly! Stand and face me, the Supreme Voltaic, Krahi Andrihee!”

Little Sister Fox couldn’t stop herself from looking up, where she saw a single bolt of lightning flashing from the heavens.

***

Leaning back with her legs crossed, Kutri Smyat clicked her tongue when she saw the bolt of lightning. “He’s still stupidly powerful. In fact, he’s gone and gotten better.”

“His power’s the real thing. He doesn’t need us,” Elizabeth Smyat agreed with a sigh.

The members of Bereaving Souls tried to keep a low profile as they watched the fight. Krahi was strong. Though his name sounded like he was some sort of knockoff, his power was genuine, if absurd.

Krahi was a simple man. Simple and easily fooled, which was why Izabee and the others had successfully tricked him. It was also why he couldn’t use a wide variety of spells.

But he was indeed powerful. Krahi Andrihee commanded lightning, which some regarded as the most difficult of the many forms of magic. These blinding, thunderous spells were sometimes called the magic of champions, and Krahi was immensely fond of them.

Krahi had once operated by himself. He had been a solo hunter. Even if he hadn’t been given a name eerily similar to that of the Thousands Tricks, he would have found success. Just about all of his talents were dedicated to the use of lightning magic. The Thousandfold Theurgics was a title Bereaving Souls had come up with, but neither they nor Krahi had coined the sobriquet “Supreme Voltaic.” If Krahi were to end up with a title, it would most likely be the latter one.

Countless bolts of lightning flashed throughout the ring. The resilient barrier warped with each fierce blow it intercepted. This clearly wasn’t the sort of magic one would normally use against a human opponent, but Krahi wasn’t going to let that stop him.

“This isn’t good,” Kule Saicool muttered. His pallor had been bad all day, and now he was clutching his stomach. “He still doesn’t know what the other guy is planning.”

“You can do it! Obliterate that faker!” Lusha cheered even while twitching from the lightning.

Krahi was no doubt capable, but Kule didn’t think he could win against a Level 8. Joining up with Bereaving Souls had forced Krahi to stick to lower-level vaults than he was used to, meaning he now never ventured past Level 5. If they hadn’t formed this party, Krahi would definitely have continued to work solo and become an even more powerful Magus. For this reason, it was hard for Kule to not feel a pang of regret.

“Nobody can become another person.”

Funny how those words had landed a critical hit on Kule and the other Bereavers. What would Krahi think if he knew the truth? Their use of names similar to those of Grieving Souls couldn’t fool anyone smarter than a child. One day, Krahi would catch on to what they were doing. But now that they had come this far, there wasn’t anything they could do.

The Supreme Voltaic waved his staff, increasing the rate of strikes and the impacts and blinding lights that came with them. This was Heaven’s Thunder, the highest-level lightning spell in existence, more advanced than Calamitous Thunderstorm. This cataclysmic spell was something that many hunters went their whole lives without seeing. It definitely wasn’t something you’d cast at a person.

The lightning showed no signs of abating. The ceaseless bolts made it impossible to spot Krahi, but he was sensible enough to stop attacking if his opponent was down. If the storm hadn’t subsided, then it meant his foe was still standing.

Kule didn’t know why the real one might proclaim himself to be an imposter, but the Thousand Tricks was a strategist. He was no doubt intending for some nefarious result. Not even Kule could just cast Krahi aside after coming this far with him, and he knew the other Bereavers felt the same way.

It was possible that the Thousand Tricks would forgive them if they proved they meant no harm. If he weren’t interested in showing leniency, then he never would have done something like proclaim himself to be the imposter, and would have immediately called them out.

Kule shook as the bolts continued incessantly. He casually glanced in the direction of the real one’s supporters. They were all from Grieving Souls and were cheering loudly, completely unaffected by the lightning.

“Go! Get ’em! Give ’em hell!” some of them hollered. At first, Kule thought they were cheering on the real one, but now he was second-guessing that assumption. One of them, Sven Anger the Stormstrike, was particularly energized. It seemed the allies of the Thousand Tricks didn’t care much for the weird speech their clan leader had given.

Kule gave up on trying to make sense of it. After all, “Protean Sortie” was just a half-baked attempt at aping “Protean Sword.” He couldn’t live up to the title he had given himself.

Suddenly, the lightning stopped.

“Impossible,” Krahi said from amid the smoke. “Dodging even one of those shouldn’t be possible, but you managed to evade all of them. What are you, Krai Andrey?!”

***

Whoops. She hadn’t meant to dodge them all.

The large-scale spell had instantly seared the ground. Surrounded by clouds of dust floating through the air, Little Sister Fox wasn’t sure what to do. She hadn’t expected Krahi to be capable of such force. Human magic wasn’t something she was terribly familiar with, but she was starting to understand how he had mustered a spell that so greatly exceeded normal human abilities.

The mana in his body was inclined to be used for lightning, and the staff in his hands was made for amplifying those exact spells, letting him summon bolts capable of rending the welkin. His accuracy suffered to the point of being nonexistent, but that was the price of casting low-cost high-damage spells in rapid succession.

Krahi was probably incapable of any variety of magic besides lightning. He was ultimately just a Lightning Magus, nothing more or less.

He opened and closed his hands, baffled by the lack of results from his onslaught. “Could my control be lacking? No, perhaps my body is hesitant to strike you? But lighting spells will find their own way to a target, so long as they’re close enough. Though I guess there’s no use thinking about it.”

Normally, that should have been enough. Anyone could tell that Krahi’s attacks had been more than sufficiently destructive.

Little Sister Fox had evaded the spells entirely on reflex. She didn’t handle lightning well. It was an instinct from when she had existed as a living being. And these weren’t ideal circumstances for her—the mana material in the outside world was too sparse. If she had gotten hit, she would’ve really felt it.

Krahi twirled his staff, then faced Little Sister Fox. “If you evade ten, then I’ll call one hundred. If you evade one hundred, I’ll call one thousand! Don’t be shy! Try and manage one thousand strikes from the heavens!”

As though answering his beckons, the skies above flashed and rumbled. This man wasn’t aiming for his foe, he was planning to scorch the entire ring. What a surprise to learn that a human could be so formidable. He was enough to be a threat to Mother Fox, an actual god.

Weren’t humans supposed to be rational creatures?

Despite all this, Little Sister Fox couldn’t just counterattack. For one thing, she was here for the purpose of playing her tricks, but there was another issue—she had very few means by which to attack. The phantoms of Peregrine Lodge were driven by the desire to beguile, not to kill. If they were to take a life, they weren’t to do it directly or without provocation.

She had to lose this fight. She had to find a way. She had to hurry before the spell cast on Mr. Caution wore off. Gazing into the excessive thunderstorm blinding her, she took a desperate step forward.

***

The puzzling and almost farcical exchange between the two challengers ended, instantly giving way to a breathtaking battle. The first bolt was a sight to behold, but when it turned to a volley, the scene resembled divine retribution rather than the casting of a single Magus.

At first, Tino had been confused by the fake master’s confidence, and the real master declaring himself a fake, but the spectacle of their fight pushed out any unnecessary thoughts from her mind. This man, Krahi Andrihee, had a name like her master’s, and extraordinary skills to match. The strength and swiftness of his attacks were both first-rate. In terms of lightning power, she was certain Krahi surpassed even Arnold.

And yet, her master’s response was nothing short of incredible—he advanced.

“H-He,” she stammered, “he dodged the bolts?”

It sounded absurd. Lighting strikes might not have been faster than light, but they still were too fast for human reflexes. Yet her master had calmly woven between the bolts. From her perspective, it almost looked as if they had been avoiding him. This wasn’t something that could be explained by any preterhuman artifice. This was the power of a Level 8.

Krahi’s magic was more than she had expected, but Tino still believed her master had the advantage.

“Hmm,” Siddy groaned from the seat next to Tino’s. “That’s not really Krai. So this is why he made that copy I saw in the kitchen...”

“Wha?!” Tino cried.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Lizzy added. “Krai Baby wouldn’t run like that. He doesn’t like moving his body too much.”

“Did he interfere with the spells? Did he deflect them?” Lucy muttered to herself. “How did he do that? It didn’t look like magic—”

“It’s the result of training, what else?!” Luke exclaimed. “I’m sure I could take the hits, but dodging them? I gotta try it for myself!”

Ansem grunted in agreement.

So it wasn’t just the Smart sisters that doubted the Krai below’s identity. Tino looked towards the ring again. It was far away, but as far as she could tell, that was her master, godlike capabilities and all. But if his friends didn’t think it was him, then that must be someone else in the ring.

Her mind went blank for a moment. “Ahh,” she said, her voice embodying resignation. “So this is the current Trial...”

Master, it’s against the rules to have someone take your place. And where did you even find this look-alike?

But now that she thought about it, her master had indeed said he wouldn’t be participating. So he had really meant what he said.

When he saw his opponent dodging bolts while closing the gap, Krahi’s reaction was to smile, of all things. “That’s it! Come at me with everything you’ve got! Can you dodge this?!”

Without a millisecond’s delay, a quiver’s worth of electric arrows flew at the fake Krai, who dodged them by leaping into the air. This was decidedly a bad move; no amount of skill would let him dodge follow-up attacks while he remained airborne. Seeming to have anticipated this move, Krahi pointed his staff at Krai.

“Just what I was waiting for, Krai! Now, face the might of the heavens! Theovoltaic Lance!”

“No such spell exists,” Lucia sighed. “It must be an original he created.”

There was a crackling sound, followed by a lance forming at the tip of Krahi’s staff. It was encompassed by a web of violet, but this galvanic weapon wasn’t made of energy—it glimmered as though it was metallic. It was wrought from condensed mana. He had conjured a weapon in a similar manner to the way Relics were produced by mana material!

On their own, lightning spells were already freakishly destructive. What would happen should that mana be condensed?

Not hesitating for a moment, Krahi flung the projectile of certain death at the fake master, who blocked the attack—with an identical spear of his own. Tino could hardly contain her surprise. The two shining spears collided, sending out waves of destructive force. Tino was certain she heard the faint sound of a portion of the protective barrier breaking.

The audience began to cry out, but they were soon silenced by the waves of energy, the blinding lights, the intense heat. Anssy, the others in the front row, and the Magi hired by the tournament management all used their skills to compensate for the hole in the barrier.

Dust floated everywhere. The lightning had stopped, but a swirl of clouds remained overhead. Tino turned her eyes back to the ring.

“Never would I have expected you to use the same spell as me, at the exact same time, and without a staff at that.”

A battered Krahi Andrihee stood in the center of the charred ring. The fake master was crumpled against the wall.

“Did you replicate my own spell in that fraction of a second?” Krahi asked while inspecting his staff. “If not for this, I would’ve been defeated there. It’s as though you’re a reflection of me. Ah, apologies, that was poor word choice.”

Ah, so I’m going to lose all my money after all. The blood drained from Tino’s face. Next to her, thinking the same thing, Kris had the same reaction.

The match was settled. Not even the fake master could get back up after an attack like that. Unlike the real master, this fake one hadn’t yet learned how to transcend lightning. She had been certain she couldn’t go wrong betting on her master. Though she was frustrated, she couldn’t reveal that it was an impersonator in the ring. That would bring Krai greater dishonor than if he had gone in himself and lost.

“Ref, this man won’t be getting back up,” Krahi announced in a voice that carried throughout the arena. Then he turned to Krai. “It appears you tried to cancel my attack with one of your own. That you’re still in one piece is proof of your skills. You fought well, Krai. Let me call a doctor for you.”

The referee began to move, as though they had finally remembered their job. Clerics hurried to the fake master so they could heal him.

Tino noticed something. Something she wished she hadn’t. Near the entrance, her master was poking his head out from behind a pillar. The other one was on his back, surrounded by Clerics. It didn’t take a genius to guess which one was the genuine Krai Andrey.

Her master was looking around, like he was doing something he shouldn’t. This wasn’t common behavior for him. Was he panicking? Or could it be that he was searching for something? Maybe he hadn’t expected his copy to lose?

“Oh, it’s Krai Baby,” Lizzy said as though it was nothing. She had been looking forward to seeing him fight, but she didn’t sound at all bothered. Tino didn’t share the sentiment.

Master, just this once, I’d like you to think about what you’ve done. Lizzy might pummel her for it, but Tino felt she had to say something. She had really been eager to see him in action.

Now that she could easily compare the two, the difference between the real and the imposter was clear as day. The fake one had shown an audacity that the real one never would. She hadn’t disliked that bravado, but she felt like an idiot for not catching on earlier.

How did he plan to get through this? If he was showing himself, then presumably there was still more to this stratagem of his. He wouldn’t appear without reason, but what could that be? It probably wasn’t to request a rematch.

And just as this thought crossed her mind, it fell from the sky. It landed in the ring, attracting the attention of everyone in the audience. Drifting like a leaf, it set down behind Krahi without making a sound. Bafflement rippled through the audience, who were still recovering from the intense bout they had just witnessed.

It was a person. A man clad in a robe of pure black, his face hidden by a white fox mask. Krahi turned around, and though he was taken aback by this sudden arrival, he approached the man anyway.

“Who are you? Where did you fall from? My apologies, but the next match is to begin—”

“Let’s spare the diatribes,” the man answered between pained breaths. “There’s no need for words. Prepare to die, Thousand Tricks.”

The man in the robe then raised his arm.

***

It felt like I had been in a strange dream, one where I spent a few dozen minutes in the bathroom, pretending I was somewhere else. Eventually I braved the outside, only to find Krahi and a man wearing a fox mask in the ring. To top off all this nonsense, I was on the ground off to the side.

“I see. So this is...uhhhh. Simply put, it’s...”

Basically what? I couldn’t even manage a theory. It was an affront to my brain.

The man in the black robe and white mask raised his right hand. The mask was the same design as mine, but I could tell by the outline that this man wasn’t Galf. He lowered his hand, and at the exact same moment, there was a loud boom.