The blood flew and entered the Saintess’ forehead before she could even comprehend what had happened.
It moved swiftly, entering instantaneously, making it seem as though nothing had occurred.
However, something significant had indeed taken place, for the Saintess was suddenly teleported away, appearing in a place bathed in red light.
It was as if everything there was crafted from the color red. The only non-red entity in that space was Saintess Neomi, who turned back and forth, trying to make sense of her surroundings.
“Where am I?” she asked, but no answer came.
She hovered in the air, looking around more intently, yet still receiving no response despite knowing something had brought her there.
“How did I get here?” she wondered, but again, there was no reply.
She chose to remain silent and focus on understanding the space she was in. Perhaps that would help her if she concentrated. At least, that was what she decided to believe.
So she began to observe her surroundings, but she quickly realized she wasn’t going to find any answers.
The reason was simple: there were no answers to be found. She was inside some kind of dome with no clouds, only a blood-red sea raging below her.
Those were the only two things she could see—and that was all there was to see.
“Welcome to the realm of Rakshasa, oh chosen one. Your trial begins in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1.” A voice spoke, counting down. When the countdown struck zero, a figure appeared.
Now, facing the Saintess was a mirror version of herself but with wild, crimson-red eyes.
It all happened so fast that she wasn’t able to say anything. Before she knew it, she was staring into a carbon copy of herself, gazing at her with intense killing intent.
“What the—”
The Saintess was pushed back when a sudden swing landed on her spear. The clone attacked, and the force behind it was overwhelming.
The red sea was still raging below them, but the figure now in front of her made her mind leave the ominous crimson environment she was in and drawn into the battle…
‘That is definitely not me, but bring it on,’ she thought, spinning her spear.
The next second, she clashed with the clone again. This time, the force came from both sides, creating a powerful shockwave that pushed them apart.
‘She is stronger… stronger than me.’
The Saintess gritted her teeth, her hands tightening around the shaft of her spear as she steadied herself. It wasn’t going to be a battle she could easily win.
The clone stood a few meters away, its crimson eyes glowing like embers in the dark.
Without warning, the clone lunged, its movements a blur of speed and precision.
The Saintess barely had time to raise her spear, deflecting a strike that would have cleaved her in two.
The impact sent a jolt through her arms, but she retaliated swiftly, thrusting her spear toward the clone’s chest.
The clone sidestepped with precise steps, its red eyes never leaving hers. It was like she was reading the Saintess’ every move before she could even make them.
‘It’s faster, too,’ she realized, her heart pounding.
The clone attacked again, its spear whirling in a deadly arc.
The Saintess ducked, feeling the rush of air as the weapon narrowly missed her head.
She countered with a sweeping strike aimed at the clone’s legs, but it leaped effortlessly into the air, flipping backward and landing with perfect balance.
‘Wait. That is something I will do. Hold on, does this mean the clone is me…a better me?’ The saintess didn’t like the feeling.
They’d been fighting for a few minutes now, and at every swing, the clone seemed to know what she was about to do.
Also, whenever the clone attacks, the Saintess feels a sense of déjà vu. It was as if she saw herself do that, which now made it clear the clone was her.
A better her.
It had her skills, techniques, way of adapting in battle, and the next move to use in combat. It even went as far as knowing what she would do when an attack was halted mid-strike and switched to a different one.
And to top it off, the clone was doing it better than her. That could only mean she had now entered a battle against a perfect version of herself.
‘I am screwed.’
The red sea roared below, waves crashing against an unseen shore. The Saintess used the momentary pause to catch her breath, her mind racing.
‘It has my moves, my strength, but amplified. How do I fight something that knows me better than I know myself?’
There was no answer to be found.
All she could do now was follow the algorithm and keep doing what she would do in this situation, but be hyper-aware of when to double down since she knew how brilliant she was.
The battle was not something she could easily win.
Why?
It was because the Saintess was devious and cunning in battle. This also means the clone has copied her cunningness and is now using it against her.
‘Just one chance, else I will lose this… But I never asked for this, so what is going on?’ She thought for a moment and then resolved herself.
“You know the saying: When it looks, appears, and behaves like you, then you just have to forget yourself and be yourself,” Saintess Neomi smiled and then moved.
She thrust her spear forward, kicked out, moved her craft arm to the left, and then blew an air forward from her mouth. It was a perfected, coordinated random attack with the spear, leg, arm and mouth.
The spear was saved, the kick was blocked, and the arm was caught, but the air wasn’t blocked. This caused the clone to close her eyes momentarily.
‘Got your ass.’
The Saintess smirked as she let go of the spear and held onto the clone’s face. “In the end, being human is always the best.”
She pressed hard, gripping the clone’s face. The grip around her face was so tight that the clone’s eyes popped out, and then—
“Squash.”
The clone’s head burst apart, ending her.
‘And that is how you kill a better version of yourself. Just be yourself.’ She sighed, and then she felt her surroundings start to change.
A few seconds later, her surroundings shifted, and she appeared in front of the four-armed lady, who was now kneeling like a servant to her master.
“You’ve passed my test. It’s now time to form the contract…”
Saintess Neomi smiled, but she didn’t sing her heart out just yet. Until she was back inside her real body, she wasn’t about to celebrate.
‘I have succeeded, and from the look of things, she is also a Monarch. I guess my chances of becoming a Sage and the rest are guaranteed now.’ She was happy.
Of course, what she doesn’t know is that while she had somehow managed to become the master of the 13th Rakshasa Guard, it wasn’t because of her fate alone.
No, the universe favored her through somebody, and it was also because of this favor that would follow her around now.
She had just taken a Rakshasa Guard as a weapon spirit, and soon, she would be receiving the 4th Primordial Spear Path, known as the Deadly Spears of Rakshasa—the path walked by one of the Seven Heavenly Supremes who entered reincarnation eons ago.
==========
==========