Copyettes rose from the ground one after the other. The more Dallion persisted with his music skills, the more the copyette cloned itself, each copy casting spells to the point that the nymph alone wasn’t able to fully shield him. The only option was for Dallion to combine his other existing skills and avoid attacks while also singing and playing his lyre. If the situation wasn’t so deadly serious, Dallion would have cracked a joke about being a better theatre performer than Gloria.

Tell Nox to claw the ground, Nil suggested. It won’t be fast, but once he does enough damage the item will break, spitting you out of its realm.

There was sense in what the echo was saying. Even an item of this quality had a breaking point, and with Nox’s claws, it was only a matter of time before it shattered. There was only one issue—destroying the realm also meant that the guardian in it would die as well.

No, Dallion thought. There’s another way.

This is no time to think about guardians! While admirable, taking this too far will only lead to—

No means no, Nil!

The thought caused Dallion pain, as if vines were tightening around his heart. When he had agreed to accept the Moon’s boon, he had agreed to much more than he had bargained for. At present, killing a guardian wasn’t only revolting, the mere consideration had a painful effect.

Several of the copyette’s forms finished their spells in unison, launching a wave of liquid ice at Dallion. The attack forced the nymph to make three slashes before she could cause the wave to collapse. Dallion himself had to leap back, while still attempting to somehow affect the copyette. Each clone that the creature made had a different sync frequency and set of emotions, making targeting difficult. And even when Dallion was able to create a tune that had an effect, the clone would melt into slime, rendering the effort wasted.

Still, something didn’t feel quite right. All that power, and the copyette was only using basic spells. Dallion had seen first what a member of the species was capable of, and this battle was tame in comparison. If he wanted, Aspan could have had an army of clones attacking him with magic, weapons, even music manipulation. At such numbers, Dallion would have easily become overwhelmed.

Why is he so passive? Dallion asked.

He isn’t, Nil sighed. You only think he is.

I’m not in the mood, Nil.

That’s clear. And not in the mood for victory, either. I told you, your only chance is to destroy the realm. Anything else won’t do.

Nil…

Focus on the splitting, the old echo relented. Try to see an instant in this realm. It doesn’t matter when, just do it, but go for it with everything you have.

The notion made Dallion slightly curious, and since it wasn’t going to distract him too much, he did what Nil asked.

Vend had explained that in extreme circumstances an awakened can create as many instances as was his mind level. By the same logic, focusing on the reality around him, Dallion could see just as many of another’s instances. Up till now, the copyette had used half a dozen of instances, switching between them and the clones.

Let’s see what you’re hiding, Dallion thought and concentrated.

A dull feeling appeared in his temples as if something was pressing against them. A wave of sudden pain swept through his entire body, like a whip. And then he saw the unthinkable. There weren’t only five instances in the realm… there were hundreds of them engaged in bitter battles. Half were created by the copyette, while the rest were the doing of the nymph. Theoretical spells of different strength and nature flew about. Some destroyed instances of the nymph while others were easily avoided, and in turn followed by the slashing of their caster. Red rectangles filled the air, showing wounds and permanent effects… and amidst all that was Dallion, located in a small bubble of emptiness, protected from all harm.

A new sensation emerged—the sensation of hopelessness when facing a force of nature one could do nothing against. Had he been alone the battle would already be over. Even now it wasn’t certain he wouldn’t lose. The nymph was a skilled warrior, but it was obvious she was no general. The copyette’s actions were planned, specifically crafted to keep him a step forward, leaving her the option only to respond.

A second later, all the instances disappeared just as abruptly as they had appeared—Dallion had reached his limit, and if the splitting headache was any indication, he wasn’t in any condition to try that again.

What is that?! Dallion wondered.

That is the real face of the battle. That’s why your only choice is to break the realm. Your music skills have improved, but they still are nothing but a distraction to help the harpsisword keep him at bay. Nox is the only solution.

Every logical thought told Dallion that the echo was right. Nothing short of leaving the realm would help him against the copyette. Breaking it seemed to be the only way. Or maybe there was another?

“Nox, claw the ground!” Dallion shouted as he dashed further away from the copyette. Several spells were cast in response, all of them blocked by the nymph.

Where’s the opening? Dallion thought.

The room was enormous, almost as large as an area. Even so, it had to have an end, or was that something that Aspan had changed?

Nil, when you modified the training items, where did you put the guardian?

One cannot put the guardian anywhere, the echo sighed. It’s something that—

Nil!

This was hardly the time for arguments—something that the echo didn’t seem to realize.

It’s there where it always was supposed to be. You keep thinking of this as the outside of a room. Look at it from the opposite angle. All the space here is nothing but a canvas wrapped on the outside of a room. Size doesn’t matter in the least.

Dallion tried to visualize it. The notion was weird enough that it took a few attempts, but he got it. If what Nil was saying was right, the arena chamber was just beyond the wall of the first structure that came in sight. The issue was that there weren’t any structures to be seen, not a single one.

It was just like a copyette to deal with trickery and illusions, but this time Dallion had a trick up his sleeve as well. Well, in effect, it was more like half a trick.

Nox, claw out a chip, Dallion thought.

Without the hesitation the crackling clawed at the ground while the invisible battle of instances raged around him. Thin lines appeared on the black surface. A second claw made the lines into squares, then after two more, a fragment broke off. It was a small fragment, no larger than a fingernail, but enough to fulfil its purpose; the moment the piece separated from the floor, an arch appeared… an arch leading to a maze.

Not bad, dear boy. Nil sounded pleased.

Dallion’s heart tightened for a moment—he had knowingly harmed a realm, just so that he could enter its mending labyrinth. The pain was worth it, though. Ignoring the battle behind him, Dallion rushed in.

The moment he stepped through the archway, a thick layer of water covered the entrance behind him.

I’ll keep him occupied for as long as I could, Dallion heard the melody of the harpsisword in his head. Don’t get hurt.

Thanks, Harp. Dallion rushed on through the maze.

The maze was much larger than Dallion was used to. If Lux were here, going through it would be a snap. At present, though, Dallion had to figure things out on his own. Splitting helped to a degree, at least he was able to look behind corners before choosing a direction.

Every wrong turn increased the pressure, bringing with it fears that the copyette had somehow managed to sneak a clone through the nymph’s defenses.

Nox, return to the dagger, Dallion ordered. He needed the crackling close to him.

There was no telling how long it took Dallion to reach the guardian’s chamber. It felt like hours, though it could have been minutes just the same. Whatever the case, the hard part was over.

A guardian of this level might not be as easy as you think, Nil said.

Better it than the copyette. Dallion stepped through the threshold.

GUARDIAN

Species: Colossus

Class: Iron

Statistics: 100 HP

Skills

- Tuning fork

- Shield

- Shatter strike

Weak spots: Shoulder blades

It had been a while since Dallion had faced a colossus. This one was true to its name, taking the shape of a ten-foot iron statue. Its features were bulkier than round, though Dallion knew not to underestimate an enemy. Any guardian at this level and material was bound to be strong.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Dallion said, using as much music skill as he could. “In fact, I’ve come to surrender to you.”

The guardian tilted his head. Black brows moved down in a frown, as the being tried to figure out what was going on.

“I guess there aren’t many that come with that request, are there?” Dallion asked, pushing the guardian even more to accept his proposal.

After a long pause, the guardian shook its head.

“Does that mean you agree with me, or you won’t let me surrender?”

A massive clenched fist quickly answered that question.

You better be prepared, dear boy. You’ll have a second to draw your weapon and shoot. If you take too long, the copyette will come to its senses and you’ll have a continuation of the fight in the kitchen, and we both know that you wouldn’t have a chance there.

And you should work on the way you encourage people.

The massive iron statue took a few steps forward, looked at Dallion, then unceremoniously slammed its hand to crush him. In the final instants, Dallion considered using his guard skills to evade the blow, then follow the guard sequence to the point he could self-eject from the battle. That, however, would have been dishonest. He had promised he’d come to surrender and fighting back would, in effect, be breaking that promise.

You have impressed the PAN Guardian with your behavior!

The Colossus has granted you a future boon.

A green rectangle emerged, a split second before Dallion was thrown back into the kitchen of the Gremlin Timepiece. Dallion was standing in the room, in the process of moving back, while Aspan had grabbed him with one hand, the other holding a pan—the item in which the encounter had been.

Now was the time to act. Dallion had one shot at this. If he failed, this whole encounter would vanish from his mind.

Nox, flash! Dallion thought as he reached for the dartbow in his boot.

The kitchen was instantly flooded with bright cyan light. Confused by the return to reality and the flash, Aspan let go of Dallion, stumbling a step back. This proved all the time Dallion needed. Removing the boot in a second, he grabbed the dartbow and sent a bolt straight in the copyette’s leg. There was a loud popping sound, as Aspan’s leg inflated like a balloon, then burst, causing the creature to collapse to the floor. Dallion didn’t pause, quickly reloading the weapon and shooting a second bolt. The projectile was aimed at the copyette’s chest, but Aspan moved his hand in front of him, shielding himself from a lethal blow. In the process, the copyette’s arm burst off—it wasn’t going to be able to use the same tactic to save itself again.

Dallion reloaded the weapon again. Half gone, the copyette looked up at him, a distinct note of sadness in the glance. Neither asking nor expecting mercy, Aspan lay there, expecting the inevitable.

“It was nice while it lasted,” the cook said, forcing a faint smile.

I’m sure it was, Dallion started squeezing the trigger. Before he could finish, an unexpected force pushed his arm up, causing the bolt to miss its target by a foot. Hannah had suddenly appeared in the kitchen, as if from nowhere, holding Dallion’s hand in a tight grip.

“No,” she said in a firm voice. “I think it’s time we had a talk.”