Morca's breath hitched. I swear I just heard a voice in my head, but he never opened his mouth. And how the hell does he know me so well? How does he even know my name from my past life?
The clone smirked.
.....
"Yes, I know you well, Morca. Because we are one. But you… you are pathetic (weak) while I am beyond your reach."
Once again, the words resounded in Morca's mind, though the figure had not spoken aloud.
His tone was filled with cold arrogance, one that saw Morca as nothing more than an insect, unworthy of even his scorn.
Morca's lip curled in self-mockery as he questioned himself, "How am I supposed to defeat a monster like that? My past self probably wouldn't have lasted a single step against him… and back then, I actually thought I could stand against the heavens."
The only words that could describe his former self were simple:
"A frog at the bottom of a well."
"Heh… Haha!"
Laughter rang through the hall. deep, mocking, yet oddly amused. The voice resounded like rolling thunder, and as if in response to his amusement, the surrounding light flared, casting long, wavering shadows.
"You're right. You were just a frog in a well, ignorant of the grand scheme of things. In this world, you're nothing more than another mortal foolish enough to challenge the heavens. But that will change soon, if you can defeat me."
The clone's words carried neither arrogance nor malice, only certainty.
Then, with deliberate ease, he continued, "Of course, I'll lower my power to match yours."
As he spoke, his overwhelming presence shifted. The divine, untouchable aura dissipated, leaving behind something far more grounded, mortal.
But Morca was no fool. He knew better than to assume victory would come easily.
A moment later, the clone stood up. The sound of cracking bones echoed through the hall, a chilling reminder of just how long he had remained motionless.
He flexed his fingers before gripping the sword resting on his lap. Then, his gaze met Morca's lone eye.
"Avoc, correct?"
Morca's breath caught. His entire body tensed, not from fear, but excitement. His companion, his sword, was still intact. There was a chance he could reclaim it.
As if sensing his thoughts, the clone casually tossed the blade to him. "You can use it. I will use this."
With a flick of his wrist, another sword materialized in the clone's grasp. Its steel glimmered coldly beneath the dim light.
The moment Morca caught Avoc, the sword trembled in his hand, as if recognizing its master after an eternity apart.
The connection between them ran deep, forged through countless battles. It was a bond that surpassed mere ownership, a master... and ...weapon connection unlike any other. If the sword's spirit were to die, it would become nothing more than an empty shell, just another ordinary weapon.
Calming Avoc with a steady breath, Morca adjusted his stance. His weight shifted onto his right leg, his muscles coiled like a predator ready to strike.
His clone, in contrast, twirled his sword with effortless grace, casual and unbothered.
Then, without a word,
The battle began.
.....
Clang! Clank!
The sharp clash of steel rang through the hall, a battle rhythm that sent sparks scattering in the air.
Morca moved in a blur, his speed bordering on unreal as he pressed forward, launching a relentless assault.
Yet, no matter how fast or precise his strikes, his clone remained unmoved, deflecting each blow with ease.
Sweat trickled down Morca's face. He had to end this quickly. Dragging the fight out was a mistake.
But his opponent's defense was like an impenetrable wall. No matter how fiercely he attacked, the clone parried every strike with mechanical precision.
Then,
A shift.
The clone changed his stance.
Before Morca could react, a knee shot forward, fast and brutal.
Crack!
The impact slammed into his ribs.
Pain exploded in his side as he was launched backward, sent flying like a discarded puppet.
For all his strength, at that moment, Morca was nothing more than a punching bag.
Crack!
"Aghh!"
A painful cry echoed through the hall, accompanied by the sharp sound of ribs breaking.
Morca didn't remain on the ground for long. But just as he tried to stand, an overwhelming aura crashed down on him, making his knees weaken.
As he struggled to rise, a sword descended from above, fast and merciless.
With no other choice, he raised his sword above his head, barely managing to block the vicious, treacherous assault with his full strength.
The impact sent shockwaves through his body. His knee buckled and slammed against the hard ground.
Crack!
A piercing sound rang through the hall, his left leg, broken.
But he refused to stop. Gritting his teeth, he rolled to the side, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His vision blurred, but in his mind, only one thought remained:
"Succeed or die trying."
The clone never gave him a moment to breathe.
Without pause, it continued the relentless assault, beating him down without mercy.
However, that was not the end. The blade pierced through Morca's left shoulder, but he gritted his teeth and tightened his grip on the clone sword. A wild, bloody smile spread across his face as he raised his blade, swinging with the fastest speed he could muster.
In that moment, he struck at the figure, aiming for its brow. But just before the attack could land, an invisible force stopped it. The stars in the sky dimmed momentarily before flaring back to life, shining even brighter than before.
The next thing Morca felt was darkness. His consciousness faded, but before it was completely lost, a voice echoed in his mind:
"I will answer two of your questions the next time we meet, as a reward," the clone said, its tone calm and composed.
"To appear here, you only need to enter a completely blank state," the clone instructed, revealing how Morca could return to this place.
Then, silence. Morca's mind drifted into unconsciousness.
It wasn't every day one encountered such a sight, a treasure like the constitutive divine awakened pool, a place where the mind could rest in total tranquility...
.....