Both students lunged at each other!
Ibaan didn't move his sword even a little. He knew—even the slightest swing, and nature would follow its order. Still, he wasn't sure if the power of order would respond here, but he couldn't take any risks.
Charlie's blade came cutting through the air!
Ibaan twisted his torso sideways, feeling the wind brush past his ribs as the sword missed him by inches.
With one hand, he swung his own blade toward Charlie's abdomen, but their steels clashed midair.
Clang!
The ground shivered along the line of their strike. Force surged through the ground, slamming against Charlie's body.
It worked. Nature had obeyed him—to him, just like always.
His eyes widened, a thrill sparking through his chest. He staggered back a few steps and said in a rushed voice, "Interesting."
Ibaan wasn't a trained swordsman like Charlie. His hands lacked polish; his steps were rough. What carried him wasn't skill—it was the power of Order, the strength to command reality itself.
Charlie lunged forward again, movements sharp and steady, his blade slicing through the air midway.
Suddenly, a thin arc shot toward Ibaan! At first, it seemed invisible, but the rushing sound tore through the silence—a wind blade!
Ibaan ducked and sidestepped, his heart pounding, then dashed straight toward Charlie.
Their swords met again, crossing diagonally.
The ground cracked apart, dust bursting out. The surge hit Charlie once more, but this time he stood firm, teeth gritted.
He pressed down with brute strength, then suddenly jumped back—his feet flipping him midair. He landed behind Ibaan, twisting around in one smooth motion, his blade whistling toward Ibaan's back.
Clang!
Ibaan blocked it, sparks flying between their blades. The clash rattled his arms.
He pushed Charlie off and swung down with all his might. His blade tore a deep line through the ground.
The earth split, shockwaves bursting out, throwing Charlie backward!
Wind gathered around him, lifting him high with terrifying speed. Ibaan's eyes tracked his fall—and before he realized it, he was above Charlie. Gravity pulled him down. His sword rose high.
With a low growl, he brought it down—stabbing through Charlie's abdomen.
A faint voice echoed in his mind:
[You have defeated The Slasher in a duel]
[You have won the duel!]
'I… won?'
For a moment, Ibaan just stood there, breathing hard. His arms trembled from the clash, his heartbeat still wild from the fight. The battlefield around him began to flicker—colors fading like old paint under rain.
The air turned weightless. The ground beneath his feet broke apart into glittering dust. He reached out, but his fingers passed through empty light.
And then—everything went white.
When he blinked again, he was standing on soft grass. The scent of fresh wind hit him, real and calm. His chest still rose and fell fast, but a faint smile formed on his face.
'It was really fun…'
Charlie stood nearby, wide-eyed, then laughed. "You really won! Nice one! Let's do it again someday!"
Ibaan smiled back. "Alright!"
The Gate in the sky shimmered above them. "Which floor are you on?" Charlie asked.
"Just the second," Ibaan said. "Didn't spend much time there. You?"
"Tenth floor," Charlie replied calmly. "Let's climb together."
He nodded "Alright."
***
In a dungeon-like cave, countless beast corpses lay scattered. Blood soaked the stones.
At the center stood a young man—black hair, crimson eyes, divine sword in hand.
'Fifth floor finished.'
Suddenly, a calm robotic voice echoed:
[Dear warriors, today's session is ending. You will automatically be logged out in 3… 2… 1…]
[Shutting down the server.]
The world dimmed. His vision blurred into darkness as weight returned to his real body.
A soft mechanical hum rose in his ears. Metal parts lifted off his arms and legs. Cool air brushed his face.
He opened his eyes. Lights glowed around him—panels floating, showing replays of his fights.
"Oh right! The school channel! Everyone can watch these!" He slapped his forehead. "I almost forgot!"
The panels faded as he stood from the recliner, stretching his arms.
"Today was really the best experience… sigh."
A moment later, he met Charlie again.
"It was fun today! I finished the fifth floor!" Ibaan grinned, scratching his head.
Charlie's brows rose. "Fifth? You really are something else, Ibaan. I'm reached at twelfth—but if you keep that pace, you might catch me soon!"
"Let's clear all the floors together!" Ibaan said softly, a small spark of excitement in his eyes.
Charlie chuckled. "Yeah, yeah! Anyway, bye! I need to check on my sister."
"Alright!" Ibaan waved.
***
As the two walked along Singing Street, Selpe and Ibaan reached the gate of their small, two-story house.
"By the way," Selpe said, unlocking the gate, "I've got a few names from my class for the gang. What about you?"
"Oh! I have one student from F-class," Ibaan said, a small smile curling on his lips.
He had already told her about his class advancement on the way home. She had been shocked—then scolded him lightly for keeping it a secret. But who could have guessed the idea had just struck him that morning?
They closed the gate behind them.
"But how are we going to use your powers? Wouldn't we need them to appear?" Selpe frowned as they neared the door.
"There's no need. Through you, we can make them fuse with the school system." Ibaan shrugged casually.
"Alright then, but how do we hide our identity?" she asked, opening the door.
Ibaan thought for a moment, eyes narrowing slightly. "What about wearing masks?"
"That's… actually a nice idea. But where do we get them?" saying that she sighed and stretched. "Let's talk after we eat something."
They dropped their bags near the door and headed inside.
...
Later, both sat in the kitchen on the dining table—snacking while filling out the tournament forms on their communicators. The message was the same as the teacher's announcement earlier, except now there was a link to register.
Before submitting, Ibaan said, "I've joined the Quhess and Virtual World Competition!"
Quhess was a board game of strategic skill for two players, played on a chequered board on which each playing piece was moved according to precise rules. It was a game introduced by the author himself in his old world. Later he used it in his written books.
Selpe blinked. "Wait… since when are you into Quhess?"
He scratched the back of his head, laughing softly. "Uh… my new friend suggested it."
"Ah, makes sense." She slid the leftover snacks into the fridge. "Alright, now let's plan."
'He hesitated. Should I tell her I can create things too… even if it's just a little? Yeah… I should.'
"I can make the masks, especially for my princess," he finally said, teasingly. He straightened his back, trying to sound charming and sarcastic—just like the real Ibaan would.
But inside, a question nagged him. 'Why doesn't she notice? I'm not perfect all the time, yet she doesn't seem to care…'
Selpe tilted her head, with a smile. "Dead Eye can do that too?"
"Yep," he said, smiling.
"Cool! So… what should we name the gang?"
He'd already imagined everyone using code names, but the gang itself still had no title. He wanted the name to mean something—to reflect his goal, The Will. But no ideas came.
"We'll think about it after the system's ready," he said. "But I do have ideas for code names. Mine could be Mask of Dusk, and yours… Mask of Dawn."
He had planned it all just to make their relationship feel more natural. As if she were the beginning and he was the end—just to make her believe he was the real Ibaan, even using their bond in this situation.
Selpe smiled. "That's really interesting and lovely! Okay then! I'll make dinner, and you make the masks."