“I accept Soma Sagala’s duel and vow to compete with all my might!”
As Ena’s cry rang out, a white membrane of light enveloped both her and me. This was the proof that the duel had been established.
While “duel” might evoke a dangerous image, this was actually a system designed to prevent danger. Duels fundamentally did not involve fighting to the death.
No matter how fierce the battle, if a combatant’s HP dropped to a certain level due to an attack from their opponent, the duel would conclude with a dazzling effect as the light membrane shattered. The HP value that determined the outcome varied based on the pre-duel declaration. If the declaration was “compete with all our might,” the duel would end when HP reached 50% of maximum. However, if it were something like “fight with all our strength,” combat would continue until HP dropped to 1. Conversely, no matter how powerful an attack was received, HP would not drop further from an opponent’s attack during a duel. Since HP reaching 0, meaning death, was impossible, one could fight with peace of mind.
However, this function only applied between the duelists themselves; it did not prevent others from interfering. The HP limitation also only applied to attacks from the duel opponent; if attacked by a character or monster unrelated to the duel, HP would normally drop to 0, leading to death.
…Ah, I’ll never forget. The mandatory quest, ‘Duel in the Desert.’ The objective was to win with HP at 1. The moment I thought I had won by reducing my opponent’s HP to 1, they died from desert terrain damage, turning it into the worst possible quest. In the end, the quest required not how to defeat the opponent, but an absurd skill for discerning the timing of terrain damage and quickly healing the opponent. Well, that’s beside the point. Impressive, I thought, of Nekoneko’s development team, living up to their reputation of hating debugging more than their own parents. But again, beside the point.
In any case, this meant we could now fight with peace of mind, without worrying about killing each other.
“Ah, um, Soma-san! What weapon should I use?”
Was she being timid? As Ena asked this, I replied with a composed expression.
“I told you this was weapon training, right? You should use whatever weapon you want to use from now on.”
“Y-yes!”
At my words, Ena hesitated for a moment before drawing a short sword dropped by an Armored Knight. That weapon, possessing traits of both a dagger and a ninjato, was a ‘Wakizashi.’
Now, I understood what she was thinking. Why a Western-style Armored Knight would drop a purely Japanese weapon like a Wakizashi was beyond me, and it certainly didn’t look like a ninjato. But that was just ‘Nekoneko’ quality, so there was nothing to be done.
However, regardless of its name, it was an item dropped by a level 70 Monster. While not as powerful as a Fire of Sh, its quality as a weapon was considerable. Combined with Ena’s level 66 attack power, I, still using beginner equipment, would stand no chance.
Facing her, “S-Soma-san! Are you serious?!” Ena protested at what I was holding.
“Is there a problem?” Feigning ignorance, I watched Ena’s face turn bright red as she shouted.
“There’s a huge problem! That’s clearly not a weapon!”
Ena’s anger was understandable. She probably thought my favored weapon was a sword or a katana. Yet, what I held was neither a sword nor a katana. In fact, it was a wooden stick, fitting none of the other weapon categories like axes or spears.
“It’s fine. I won’t attack first.” If I didn’t wield a weapon, not only would I not gain the attack power bonus, but weapon proficiency bonuses and even weapon skills would not activate. Without the ability to cancel steps, Godspeed Cancel Movement would also be unusable. Still, this was necessary for Ena’s training.
“…I’m not going to go easy on you.”
“Bring it on! Anytime!”
After this exchange, the battle began. True to my word, she noticed I wasn’t moving to attack and took the initiative. Despite saying she wouldn’t go easy, she likely hesitated to attack someone with no proper weapon with full force. Her attack approached with a halfway trajectory, and I,
“Huh?”
easily deflected it with my wooden stick. Despite the considerable momentum, I felt no impact in my hands. It was likely a game-specific compensation. This was fine.
“N-not yet!” Ena’s eyes sharpened. While she claimed to be a novice, she was an Adventurer, someone whose profession was combat. She wouldn’t end it at this. Casting aside her hesitation, she once again drew her Wakizashi.
“Diving Slash!” Without a second thought, she activated her dagger skill. After her hesitant attacks earlier, she leaped straight into a skill-based attack. She probably figured a normal attack wouldn’t be enough. That judgment was correct. Furthermore, it was a good move to seize the initiative. Diving Slash was a fast-acting skill among dagger techniques, and likely her strongest. Once she switched to battle mode, she intended to show no mercy. That was something to be genuinely praised.
(But…!) That attack, not activated from a cancel, had an obvious preparatory motion. Even more so when she announced the skill name. I simply placed my wooden stick in its path,
“No way!” Her supposed finishing blow was easily stopped.
“Hup!” Instead, I even pushed back her weapon, which was locked in post-skill rigidity. Ena lost her balance and stumbled backward.
(Hmm, this is going better than I expected.) My fight with the female thief involved some underhanded tactics, so this was perhaps my first proper one-on-one match. I was doing better than I thought. The absence of the fear of death, allowing me to move like in the game, was likely a major factor.
(For Ena’s sake, I should at least put up a bit of a fight.) I maintained my composed expression, wooden stick still at the ready against Ena, who now had the eyes of a fighter.
“Come on!” I shouted.
And then, how much time had passed since the duel began?
“Why… why can’t I hit you…!” I had yet to receive a single blow, and I continued to parry Ena’s attacks. There was, of course, a reason why I could continuously stop Ena’s attacks.
Firstly, character performance differences weren’t a significant factor here. Stamina and Agility were parameters that didn’t change with level-ups. While Ena’s Stamina and Agility seemed higher than average, the difference wasn’t that great when not in Train mode. In terms of hitting and defending, this wasn’t a decisive factor.
Secondly, regarding combat techniques, both of us were self-taught. As I fought, I realized that most Adventurers probably didn’t hone their skills for player-versus-player combat. Adventurers primarily train themselves for battles against Monsters, and there aren’t many humanoid monsters. At least when fighting Monsters, improving one’s attack power is faster than learning feints that might not even be useful. I, who often relied on skills in combat, was the same, and Ena, a novice Adventurer, also lacked in player-versus-player tactics.
—Therefore, the result was solely due to the difference between Ena fighting this as reality and myself fighting it as a game.
Grasping the specs of one’s controlled character is fundamental to any game. I understood the limits of my limbs, the range of motion in my joints, and my body’s flexibility. And with those specs, no matter how absurd the movement, my body felt no pain or discomfort. While strenuous movements depleted Stamina, if I didn’t use skills, I, wearing the ring, had almost no worries about running out of Stamina.
Now, consider Ena. Regardless of whether it’s for a game, recent VR AIs are remarkably advanced. Human movements are thoroughly studied, resulting in movements that seem entirely human. Conversely, this means that even if movements exceeding human specs are possible, they are still constrained within the human framework. Whether it’s due to this imitation or because she’s truly human in this world, she also uses her body like a real human. That was the absolute difference between us.
However, when it comes to offense and defense, the attacker has the advantage. It would be difficult for me to block attacks flawlessly without any mistakes. Still, the fact that I’m managing is due to another game-related factor.
“How about this!?” Just as I lost my balance, Ena’s sharp attack struck, but I deflected it with my wrist, manipulating the wooden stick.
“Why!” Ena cried out in anguish. Merely managing to block with the wooden stick, my stance remained completely unstable. By real-world standards, I should have been overwhelmed by Ena’s forceful attack, but that wasn’t happening. Having spent time in this world, I’d come to understand. At least concerning combat, game logic tended to take precedence over the laws of physics. Thus, the power of an attack was greatly influenced by its numerical attack power rather than its speed or the way force was applied.
(It’s the level… it’s the difference in level!) I grumbled inwardly, deflecting the Wakizashi with the stick in my hand. Then, for the first time since the battle began, I attacked. Pushing off the ground as if undertaking an even more strenuous movement from an awkward position, I pursued Ena.
“Why!” Ena’s cry, bordering on anguish, echoed again. In reality, I wouldn’t be able to perform such illogical movements, nor would I attempt them. But even movements that might seem physically unnatural wouldn’t matter if they were possible within my body’s specs. I had certainty in that. You could even say I trusted it.
After all, just think about it. You’d quickly realize.
There’s no way ‘Nekoneko’ would have programmed their characters with such advanced systems that they’d experience physical distress from a move!
“Kya!” This time, with a genuine scream, I knocked the Wakizashi from Ena’s hand.
“…Whew!” It’s understandable that after moving this much, even without using skills, my Stamina gauge recovery wouldn’t keep up. My body felt heavy, just like after strenuous exercise in reality. Well, this should be enough for today. I offered my hand to the fallen Ena on the ground.
“I concede.”
“Huh?”
I declared the end of today’s training.
For a while after the training, which I called a duel, concluded.
“Soma-san, you’re amazing, as always. You’re amazing, but… ugh!” Ena, being an Adventurer, seemed displeased about not being able to defeat me. Nevertheless, we didn’t become enemies; in fact, our conversation flowed more familiarly than before the duel. Through the intense battle, the barriers between us seemed to have inexplicably fallen. While that was somewhat against my intentions, I felt a closer connection to Ena, and indeed to myself, than before the fight.
“I don’t quite understand it, but that was… unfair!” Still feeling a sense of injustice about the outcome, Ena complained to me again. Well, I could understand her wanting to complain. To be honest, I hadn’t expected to overwhelm Ena to that extent. And though it might be bad for Ena, the ability to fight like that gave me a bit of confidence. Most importantly, I was happy to confirm that my combat style, fighting with game theory, was effective.
“That’s not human movement!” Ena continued to grumble, which, in a way, was correct. And that was the cause of her defeat.
…Well, what can I say? Looking back, it’s quite simple.
—Those who cannot distinguish between reality and a game will inevitably face the consequences.
“Ah, speaking of which…” So engrossed in the battle, I almost forgot my original purpose.
“How many dagger techniques do you know now?”
“Eh? Ah, um, three, but…”
“You should try to see if you can use a fourth technique later.”
“Uh… I understand.” She probably thought learning skills wouldn’t be so easy, as Ena nodded with a puzzled expression. But I was confident. She had not only mastered a fourth technique but likely a fifth, possibly even a sixth or seventh.
(Torch Sisyo, thank you again.) I whispered these words inwardly, then gently stroked the wooden stick I had been holding since the duel, carefully placing it in my bag.
Upon returning to town, Ena and I parted ways, with her heading to see her mother. I decided to head back to the inn first. I was exhausted from the day’s various mentally taxing events, feeling too lethargic to do anything but rest as soon as possible. I casually dismissed the innkeeper’s suggestions about dinner and returned to my room, where I fell into a deep sleep.
I awoke the next morning.
(I slept in completely…) I chastened myself as I sat up.
“Igyaa!” Suddenly, a strange electric current ran through my body, and I let out an odd scream.
(What is this?) This familiar yet dreaded sensation, like my body was stiff and creaking, closely resembled a ‘certain symptom’ I had experienced many times in the real world.
“No, no, that’s impossible.” I subconsciously denied it. If that were the case, it would have happened yesterday morning. After all, I had been exercising endlessly against Torch Sisyo the day before… However, thinking about it, when I was cutting down Torch Sisyo in the basement, I used skills for the first half and shredding for the latter half, so I hadn’t been moving my body extensively for long periods. Even then, by real-world standards, it was an incredible amount of exercise, but the amount of movement during yesterday’s duel surpassed that even further. Could it be…?
“Ada!” As pain shot through my body, the word ‘muscle pain’ flashed through my mind.
This world, while having game-like aspects, is also realistic to a degree. While game rules take precedence in combat, allowing me to move and fight like in the game, does the “specification” of intense exercise causing fatigue, a trait of the real world, fully and exclusively belong to combat? In this world, which is closer to reality than a game, hasn’t it survived even a little?
“…Ah.” Lost in thought, I made an unthinkable mistake. My poorly controlled body tilted backward on its own, causing me to fall onto the bed.
(This is bad!!) Whether I tried to brace myself to stop the fall or let myself fall onto the bed, either action would strain my body. If I forced myself to move in this state, what would happen? Amidst the encroaching sense of crisis, I thought.
…Well, what can I say? Looking back, it’s quite simple.
“MigyAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!”
—Those who cannot distinguish between reality and a game will inevitably face the consequences.
