CHAPTER 109: DAGGERS VS. DAGGERS

Nova and Elesch were in the guild. They went up the elevator, going down to the basement, to do their daily meditation, before their training. Marcus had already started to meditate with Adam by his side.

Nova and Elesch, being slightly late, sneakily joined them, although Marcus already knew the moment they had exited their apartment that they were late. So, he gave a half-smile when they sat down, and when they glanced towards them, both of them realized that Marcus already knew.

Nova entered his meditative state, and so did Elesch. Once they tapped into their innermost self, their spirit teleported into the Ability Chamber. They woke up in their Ability Chamber, seeing their duplicates sitting, awaiting their return.

Nova initially walked towards his duplicate, his daggers ready at his side, but then, just a few feet apart, he accelerated as fast as he could muster, his velocity at more than Mach six. His duplicate simply smirked, summoning its daggers, as they clashed into each other, daggers meeting daggers.

They lunged back, smirking, then accelerated forward again for a tight collision, which created a shockwave that didn’t make either flinch. They were too focused on their battle to notice such a trivial thing.

Nova’s movements sharpened as his body fell into a rhythm. Every motion carried intellect and instincts, a gut feeling that was never wrong, and the burning drive to improve and refine endlessly. His duplicate mirrored him perfectly, each strike countered with equal precision.

The first true exchange began when Nova twisted his torso mid-step, spinning low. His left dagger carved upward in a diagonal slash while his right dagger thrust toward his duplicate’s chest. The duplicate pivoted smoothly, parrying both daggers sharply.

Their forearms pressed against each other in the clinch, muscles locked.

Without hesitation, Nova used his left knee as a fulcrum, snapping it toward his duplicate’s ribs. The strike connected with a muffled thud, but his other self absorbed it like stone, countering with an elbow that went past Nova’s ear.

They broke apart, both grinning, daggers raised, eyes determined to win the battle.

Then Nova surged forward again, faster and sharper. His body became a blur, dashing across the stone floor like lightning made flesh. His duplicate met him head-on, both accelerating to abnormal speeds for a D-rank Adventurer.

Their daggers collided mid-sprint, creating an echo. The collision forced them both to recoil, but neither retreated. They circled one another, feet deftly moving across the ground, waiting for the next instant of weakness.

This time, Nova attacked with unpredictability. He hurled one dagger toward his duplicate’s head. The clone tilted, letting that weapon surge past, but Nova had already closed the gap, sliding under his own airborne blade.

He used the momentum of his roll to ascend upward, seizing the falling dagger mid-air, before unleashing a cross-slash at his duplicate’s chest.

The duplicate bent backward in a limbo-like maneuver, letting the dagger sail just inches above its torso, and kicked out with a powerful upward strike. Nova deflected with his forearm, though the impact startled his bones.

They were relentless. The chamber vibrated with dagger against dagger, boot rustling against the floor, fists colliding, breath quickened but never broken. Each technique Nova attempted was answered politely.

When he swept low with a spinning kick, the duplicate hopped effortlessly, countering with an aerial slash. When Nova flipped backward to regain space, his duplicate did the same act, creating the illusion of two dancers moving in perfect synchronicity.

Nova narrowed his stance and drew upon every technique he and Marcus had drilled into him, fluid transition in silat’s, the aggressive traps of kali/arnis, and the lethal precision of kenjutsu blended with modern knife fighting.

But the duplicate adapted instantly, answering with the same arsenal. They weaved between ranges, switching from blinding close-quarters grappling to mid-range slashing exchanges.

Nova’s blade darted toward the duplicate’s throat, with the duplicate reflecting and redirecting into a wrist lock. Nova spun with the trap, flowing into a throw, only to find himself flipped in the same motion by his duplicate.

Their bodies slammed into the ground simultaneously, rolling up to their feet without pause, daggers already in motion. Sweat dripped across Nova’s forehead, though he didn’t fatigue, not even close.

Nova used his environment, planting a dagger into the stone wall, vaulting himself sideways, and launching into a devastating dropkick. The duplicate countered by catching his ankle mid-flight, slamming him into the ground with brutality.

But Nova twisted on impact, legs scissoring up, trapping the duplicate’s arm and rolling into an armbar. The daggers fell from both their hands.

For a heartbeat, Nova thought he had gained the upper hand. He arched his hips, pressing the joint lock to its limit. Yet his duplicate only smirked, slipping its arm free with the same technique Nova had once struggled to master. They both rolled away, reclaiming their daggers in a single fluid motion.

Their battle intensified. Every clash sounded like miniature explosions, shockwaves rippling through the chamber walls. They weren’t simply sparring anymore; they were testing the limits of self, each move demanding the other to adapt faster, strike harder, and think sharper.

Nova pretended to fall, letting his duplicate lunge in greedily. At the last moment, Nova’s right foot snapped upward, connecting with the chin in a perfectly timed axe kick. The duplicate staggered back, only briefly. Blood ran from the corner of the duplicate’s lips. But he was still smiling.

"You’re improving," the duplicate remarked, voice composed even as they reengaged. "Your feints are no longer predictable."

Nova smirked playfully, responding to the duplicate: "About time I caught up with myself."

The two went back to clashing with their daggers, flying and reacting at Mach speeds, their figures blurring with every step. The ground cracked beneath them. The chamber vibrated like a magnitude nine earthquake.

Nova executed a sequence he’d never attempted before: a triple spin, launching three consecutive slashes that formed a spiraling vortex of steel. His duplicate matched him beat for beat, until both collided in the center, blades locking in a cross. The explosion of shockwaves knocked them apart, falling across the floor.

Both landed on their feet, panting, daggers lowered slightly. They just stared at each other across the chamber as a deafening silence overtook the battle.

Finally, the duplicate chuckled, spinning its daggers once before sheathing them across its back. "Not bad. You’re adapting faster than I had anticipated."

Nova twirled his blades in response, sliding them back into his imaginary belt, despawning them. "And yet, I still can’t surpass you."

"Not yet," the duplicate corrected. "But soon. At this rate, even I may fall behind."