Duck King

Sometimes, when I got home from school, I did a lot of the same things ordinary students did when they were bored.

I'd play video games.

It wasn't a common practice or something I did all the time, but there was one game I really liked called Duck Champions. It was a VR sword-fighting game, and as the name suggested, the characters were all ducks.

When my sister had an activity after school or went to a friend's house, I knew I would have some time to myself in peace. So I'd take advantage of it to play the game.

I did this whenever my sister wasn't home, because if she saw me playing, she would simply feel entitled to play along with me.

I hated it.

I was always used to doing things alone, and having that annoying person by my side took away all my desire to do what I liked. The same didn't happen if I was reading or studying. I could just say it was for a difficult test, and then she would leave me alone. But as soon as I got home or was playing video games, I seemed to be a magnet for annoying little sisters.

This particular day, I was excited to play. A new ranked season had started, so everyone would be playing to get the highest rank. And modesty aside, I was very good at this game. Few people could defeat me, and my name was always at the top of the ranked lists.

The few defeats I had came precisely from moments when I got distracted by my sister coming home, and I was forced to pay attention to her. But if it weren't for that, I would have lived without a single loss.

This brilliance of mine was probably a legacy from the time I practiced kendo in high school. And even though I wasn't the best in the club, that experience became valuable in the game.

I even had a nickname I was known by. Duck King. Everyone knew the name in online forums, and many would disconnect as soon as they found out they were in a match with me.

But no matter how often I was at the top, I was never satisfied, and every defeat consumed me in a way that I could easily go days without touching that game. Until my thirst for victories returned and I started climbing the rank ladder again.

Of course, not everything always went according to my plan. There were times my sister would catch me playing.

"Please, big brother, teach me how to play."

Even while promising myself not to fall for her sweet talk as she held onto the hem of my shirt, I'd often end up helping her. But I knew she wouldn't be able to execute the moves and attacks with the same precision as me.

I even created an account for her in the game, but as she lost matches, she would get upset.

"I hate you."

When she said that and ran out of the room, slamming the door, I felt a sense of relief. Finally, I can have a moment of peace.

A short moment of rest, because she would soon return as if nothing had happened, and it would start all over. She would ask for my help to get better, and even without wanting to, I would give her advice.

"I want you to train me so that one day I can defeat the Duck King."

She didn't know I was the name on the screen, above everyone else. But little did she know that would never be possible. I would never let it happen.

She would make me watch her practice her moves in the game, asking me to evaluate her level of progress. And even though she slowly started to improve, she still had a long way to go.

Of course, she eventually started to win some battles—obviously, nowhere near my level—but whenever the victory screen appeared, she would jump with joy and run into my arms, smiling. I always forced a "good job" in response, and leave it at that.

Little did she know that I didn't teach her everything. I still kept the secrets to myself.

Something worthy only of the Duck King.

***

Lyra stared at me with sharp eyes, ready for my imminent attack. I clenched my fist, feeling the weight of the sword I had just conjured. There was no turning back. It would be decided right there whether I would walk away with the hope of having a chance in the tournament or as just another defeated person.

Her expression and posture changed. As if she had realized I wasn't there to lose. Her narrowed eyes overflowed with determination. She wasn't planning on losing either.

We studied each other in a second that felt forever, waiting for an opportunity, an opening. And it appeared. In a brief moment between breaths, her shoulders relaxed, and I charged forward, kicking up dust from the ground.

She noticed her mistake in time, managing to parry my attack, and followed up with a strike of her own, which I fortunately managed to block.

"This is just a test, boy."

Her smile didn't hide her seriousness. I could only smile back, tightening my grip on the sword. Her movements weren't as fast as before. I could see and repel them. Maybe I could even defeat her.

The people around us were impressed by the sparks flying from our blades, and some even started rooting for me. The shouts of support pushed me forward, as if they were forcing me not to back down.

Her strikes weren't much different from the ones I was used to in online games, nor were they as strong as the ones from the kendo club members. Still, I couldn't let my guard down. She was a tournament winner, an advanced arcane combat student, seen by others as the model. The future of magical warriors.

She intensified her attacks, and I dodged them narrowly but with calculated movements. As soon as I parried, I countered with more force. I began to notice her fatigue. Her breathing was becoming uncontrolled, the weight of her strikes reduced, as if she were almost at her limit.

In one of her attacks, she struck from top to bottom. My defense made her recoil, momentarily increasing the distance between us and forcing a brief pause in the fight.

"Not bad. What's your name?" she asked, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

"Haruto Nozomi."

"Haruto… I'll remember that," she said, resuming her stance. "But unfortunately, we have to end this here. There are still many others waiting in line."

The magic in her sword glowed even more intensely, like an uncontrolled flame. Then she charged forward like a bolt of lightning, much faster than before. I could barely see her movements now. With every strike, I was thrown back, almost tripping.

Had she been going easy on me until now?

It couldn't stay like this. I was a winner too, the Duck King. I had turned around even more difficult fights before. I just needed to find the right opportunity. A single, decisive, fatal blow.

I defended, resisted, and watched. Her patterns began to repeat, and I waited for the perfect chance. And it came. Lyra attacked in a wide arc, leaving her side exposed. I couldn't contain my happiness. That would be the end for her.

I dodged her attack and countered, aiming for her stomach. But something was wrong. She smiled.

It was too late.

She hit me with her knee right in my stomach, knocking all the air out of my lungs.

I had fallen right into her trap. Not once had I been in a superior position, as I had thought. As a beginner, I had underestimated her and let her guide the combat, baiting me into a false sense of confidence. Right there, I realized her true strength, the reason she had won the tournament.

After the knee strike, she followed up with a hit from the hilt of her sword to my back, sending me to the ground.

It was the end of the fight.

Those who had been cheering for me just moments ago now remained silent, watching my defeat. Not just any defeat, but a psychological defeat as well. I had lost in a humiliating way.