BAM!...
SWASHHH...
WOOSHHHH...
Blades cut through the air again and again. Each swing ca faster than the last. Aoto could barely dodge them. Sweat rolled down his neck, his breathing heavy and uneven. Every ti he tried to step back, Orihi was already there, slashing at him with that sa cold expression that told him—she was serious about killing him.
At that point, he knew running was useless. He had tried escaping for too long. She wasn’t going to stop.
So, instead of dodging again, Aoto straightened his back and faced her.
“What bad luck,” he muttered under his breath, “Chiyoko isn’t here either. At least he’s useful sotis…”
He sighed softly, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and loneliness. It had already been two days since Chiyoko and his team left for the Seventh Demon King’s territory. By now, they must be far away. There was no chance they could co back to help him.
Orihi slowed her steps when she saw Aoto stop running. A faint smirk appeared on her lips as she lowered her blade slightly. “You finally gave up?” she asked, her tone half-mocking, half-curious.
“No,” Aoto replied, trying to sound brave. “I decided to fight like a man!”
He puffed out his chest, pretending not to be scared. But deep down, his stomach twisted in nervousness.
Orihi chuckled, the sound low and cold. “Good, good, good… It would’ve been shaful if the so-called hero died while running like a rat.”
Aoto’s lips tightened. “Before we start fighting again, at least tell
one thing,” he shouted, raising his voice so she could hear him clearly. “What kind of modifications did you do to my sword?”
Orihi blinked in surprise. For a second, her face showed real confusion. She looked at the blade in her hand, then at Aoto again. “Modifications? What are you talking about? I didn’t do anything to your sword.”
Aoto froze. “Did nothing?” he repeated quietly, almost to himself.
That didn’t make sense. With the amount of output sword was producing —it was clear sothing had changed to match orihi.
But this wasn't the case at all.
Before he could think of an answer, Orihi moved again. She jumped forward and swung her sword with full force, her attack slicing through the air with a sharp whistle.
Aoto reacted just in ti, twisting his body to the side. The blade missed his shoulder by an inch. He felt the rush of wind from it brush past his cheek.
Orihi gritted her teeth. “Stop running like a rat!” she yelled angrily.
Aoto’s eyes darted to a broken wooden stick lying nearby. Without hesitation, he grabbed it and focused his energy. His skill—Reality Manipulation—flared to life. The wooden stick shimred, its shape twisting until it turned into a real sword, gleaming faintly in his hands.
BAM! BAM!
Their swords collided. Sparks flew. The clash echoed through the empty ruins around them. Aoto was clearly at a disadvantage—his footing was unstable, his strikes were slower—but he didn’t back down.
“She’s fast,” he thought, panting, “but her sword skills aren’t perfect… maybe I still have a chance to survive this.”
Between their fierce clash, Orihi didn’t hold back anymore. She mixed her sword swings with bursts of magic—fireballs, shockwaves, wind slashes, and even beams of light that burned through the ground.
But every ti she attacked, Aoto fought back with the sa strength. If she used magic, he copied it and fired it right back at her. When she tried to land a physical strike, he used his Reality Manipulation to erase the impact completely, turning her efforts into nothing but wasted energy.
He could feel his heartbeat racing, but his body wasn’t breaking down. Thanks to the goddess’s blessing, his stamina kept recovering, and even the deep cuts on his arms were closing up little by little. His breathing steadied. His movents beca sharper.
Soon enough, Orihi was no longer overwhelming him. Their blows t equally, and sotis, Aoto even managed to push her back. The shock in her eyes told him she hadn’t expected that.
“Was I… underestimating myself all this ti?” Aoto thought, feeling a strange excitent rising inside him.
For the first ti, he didn’t feel fear—only thrill. His lips curved into a faint grin. “Why was I even afraid of her in the first place?”
This wasn’t like him. Normally, he would’ve run away if he faced soone stronger, or if soone else’s life was in danger. Escaping was always the wise choice. But now, against a beautiful girl like Orihi, Beating her in a fair fight and making her fall in love afterward… that sounded like sothing out of his fantasy , so why was he so afraid?
“It seems she has so kind of mind-control ability,” he thought, realizing his emotions weren’t acting normal.
Across from him, Orihi was thinking the sa. “Tch! My intimidation skill isn’t working anymore!” she gritted her teeth, frustration flashing in her eyes.
Then suddenly, she smiled sweetly. “Well then, if fear doesn’t work… love will.”
Orihi stopped moving. She stretched her arms toward him and ford a heart shape with her fingers. Her eyes sparkled, her tone turning soft and cheerful like a pop idol. “Love, love, pure love!” she sang, making an adorable pose that didn’t match the deadly fight at all.
A pink beam of light shot out from the heart shape she made, heading straight for Aoto at blinding speed.
But before it could reach him—
The pink beam shimred, twisted, and then transford into a small golden locket that gently floated toward him. It hung itself around his neck, shining faintly under the dim sky.
Aoto touched the locket and grinned. “Thanks for the gift,” he said, winking playfully at her.
Orihi’s cheerful smile froze, her expression darkening.
"Reality manipulation is really annoying
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