Duel..

I pressed the clock pendant against the demon’s chest.

The moment it made contact, the scenery around me had vanished. It didn’t fade or recede. It was simply gone in an instant, as if it had never existed in the first place. 

The crushing weight on my chest was released.

The lake disappeared.

The churning water, the warped gate, the frozen horde of half-formed figures—everything peeled away at once, dissolving outward like mist burned off by sudden light. The world around me collapsed into itself, layers stripping away faster than my mind could process.

In that moment, I stood in a boundless, colorless void.

There was no up or down, no horizon to orient myself against. The ground beneath my feet didn’t look solid, but it felt solid enough to trust. 

My stomach lurched violently, the sensation identical to stepping off a ledge.

I staggered, then steadied myself.

This space must be belong to the pendant itself.

The void remained still, empty, for a brief moment that stretched longer than it should have. My breathing sounded too loud in the silence, each inhale echoing back at me without reflection.

Then something shifted.. not the void itself, but something within it.

The demon stood where it had been before, its silhouette suspended against the colorless backdrop. It's skin began to unravel. Shadow peeled away from its outline in slow, deliberate motions, like fabric being removed layer by layer. The warped angles softened. Limbs corrected themselves. The inhuman proportions receded, shedding darkness from its body/

The transformation wasn’t violent, It felt like the demon was reverting back to its uncorrupted form. 

When it finished, a beautiful woman stood in its place. She was tall, posture straight, with flowing robes of brown and white draped over her form in revealing manner. The fabric unmarked and untouched, as though the chaos I had dragged her out of had never existed.

Her presence was the only thing beside me in this void.

There was no hostility radiating from her, no threat, and yet, this was the same entity where every instinct I had before screamed that this was not to be approached lightly.

She looked at me and smiled.

“I am Virgilia,” she said lightly, voice calm and even, as though we were meeting under ordinary circumstances. “At your service.”

The words caught me off guard.

I opened my mouth to respond.

“—At least,” she continued smoothly, cutting me off without raising her voice, “that is what I would say if you were already worthy.”

Her smile didn’t fade.

But her gaze sharpened, with a glint of amusement.

“You pressed an artifact against me without knowing the consequence,” she said. Her tone remained neutral now. “That alone has disqualified you from safety.”

"Wait.. Do you know about this pendant?" 

"Of course. But, i won't give that information to you, who is a nobody to me."

The void seemed quieter somehow, the absence of sound pressing closer as her words settled. I became acutely aware of the pendant still clutched in my hand, its warmth muted now, passive.

“Okay.. what happens now? why are you here?” I asked.

Virgilia tilted her head slightly, as if considering how best to phrase her answer.

“A duel,” she replied.

“Not of blades,” she continued, lifting a finger, her movement unhurried. “Not of strength.”

She paused.

“A duel of wits.”

I stiffened.

A duel of wits.. this isn’t something I could brace against.

“One question,” Virgilia said, her finger still raised. “If you answer correctly, I will bind myself to you and serve as your guide.”

Guide..? 

“If you fail—” Her smile widened. “you will serve me instead.”

'What the hell does it mean to serve her..?'

The words she said echoed unpleasantly in my chest. Open-ended, undefined, heavy with implication precisely because none were spelled out. This might be tricky..

I wasn’t a scholar. I wasn’t clever in the way people admired. I had never been quick with riddles or wordplay, never been the kind of person who impressed others with insight or wit. 

Whatever this duel was, it wasn’t something I could overpower or outpace.

But backing down wasn’t an option.

I had pressed the pendant against her without knowing the consequence. That much was true. Whatever came next was already in motion, whether I liked it or not.

I straightened, forcing my shoulders to square despite the tension creeping into them. 

I drew a slow breath, steadying it deliberately, anchoring myself the same way I always had—one moment at a time.

I met her gaze.

“I accept,” I said.

The words felt thin, but they were honest.

Virgilia’s eyes gleamed with interest.

“Very well, Hero,” she said, her voice carrying a faint note of interest. “Let us see what you are made of.”