Bab 33: The Final Piece

I didn't know how much time had passed or how many memories I had been forced to go through. Call it an upside of a damaged soul, but the more my soul became wounded, the more the entire experience seemed like a dream. Still, some scars remained; in the end, however long it was, I could still vividly remember being crushed, mauled, stabbed, pierced, burnt, among other things.

Every death was like a major blow to my soul, chipping away at little parts of it until, eventually, we arrived at this point. I could feel it; my soul didn't have much long before it collapsed.

"This place again," I mumbled while looking at the silver desert surrounding me. It has been a long time since he last brought me here.

Taking a deep breath, I looked around to investigate my surroundings. I could see him in the distance, standing at the top of a sand dune, waving with both his arms.

"What is he doing?" Usually, he would have killed me by now. Had he found some other way to torture me?

Well, whatever.

Instead of worrying about what he was going to do, I closed my eyes and began picturing a certain memory of mine, recalling as much detail as I could. I had been doing this for a while now, ever since the awakening ceremony. Sadly, the best I had gotten so far was a small spark of rage and nothing else.

It seemed like I wasn't going to get anything this time, either.

"Are you coming or not?" The reflection screamed, prompting me to open my eyes. He couldn't know about this, so shaking my head I slowly began walking in his direction. All the while repeatedly picturing the figure of certain stone statues in my head.

"Let's get this over with." I took a deep breath and stepped forward when suddenly-

A sharp jolt of pain pierced through my head, causing me to stumble on my foot. My vision momentarily blurred as a series of information began inserting itself into my head.

I stood on the face of an unfamiliar beach face to face with a blonde guy, about twenty years of age; the man was dressed in milky white robes, with a slight grin on his face. Needless to say I had never seen this person in my entire life.

I readied my sword while the blonde guy prepared his spear. In a matter of seconds, both of us got into fighting stances.

It felt like the world had paused itself, holding its breath in anticipation of what was to come. And that moment soon arrived. Both of us lunged at each other with smiles on our faces. Sword met spear in a grand symphony of blades.

My blade hummed with dark, spectral energy, each swing trailing a faint, black mist that seemed to devour the light around it.

The blonde guy didn't seem ordinary either, with his spear continuously phasing in and out of reality.

I had no words to describe it. I had seen the best weapon arts techniques in the alliance, but not a single one could hold a candle to them. Even House Valdrin's ancestral sword technique would struggle to match up to this.

Watching this battle was like watching two artists at work, especially myself. I couldn't tell much about the blonde guy, but the same couldn't be said for the sword art I was using. Being inside this body, I could feel every move, every shift of breath, and every movement of the tiniest muscle. I could feel it all.

Watching myself wield a sword was like watching a serpent fight against his enemies. Fast, deadly, and precise, with every single swing aiming at a vital organ. It was honestly haunting to look at. The way he moved, there wasn't a single wasted movement.

Yet the blonde guy held steady, equally matched.

I was so enthralled by their performance that I didn't even realize when the sun had set, and the two moons rose into the sky, the blonde guy took a step back and raised his hand; he then…

Not even a second had passed since that dream began before it ended, and I found myself falling face-first into the desert.

Lying sprawled on the ground it took me a moment to steady myself before returning to normal. Out in the distance, I could hear the reflection hollering in laughter, clearly amused by my stumbling and falling.

Ignoring his amusement I got up on my feet and slowly began walking towards him.

"Took you a while; what were you even doing standing there like that?"

"Just waiting for you to kill me; I didn't expect you to have something new planned."

The reflection let out a chuckle hearing this.

"No, No, I don't have anything planned. I just figured we should talk a little… while you still can, I mean."

The bastard was right; with the rate we were going, I didn't have very long till my soul collapsed.

"Inwardly, though, I was struggling to hold back a chuckle.

As much as I hated this one quality of mine, I had a tendency to brag whenever I felt absolutely certain of victory. It was a major flaw of mine, something I had gotten from my days as a noble. I'd planned to use that very flaw against him, nudging him toward boasting about his success. But to think he'd start doing it all on his own."

"Why the sudden change in mood?" I asked, pretending to be clueless.

"Well, I am your reflection correct; when I inherited your memories, I also gained your flaws and desires. If I want to talk to myself, it's your fault."

I didn't say anything; instead, I just collapsed right on the sand.

The reflection sat down as well, mirroring the same position as mine. .

"I studied his face, searching for the faintest hint that he'd noticed what I'd just witnessed back there. But there was nothing—absolutely no flicker of recognition. Good.

"So what's your plan to get out of this situation, I mean?" The reflection was the first one to speak.