I had let the Takson clone pass.
Even before it had rounded the corner, my sensors had analyzed its capabilities. It possessed the exact sa physical paraters as the original.
In a straight fight, a clone often has the advantage because it lacks fear, pain, and hesitation. It is a pure combat machine.
However, Takson had a trump card: the "Blessing of the Goddess." As a creature born of magic, the clone could not replicate divine power. The outco was a foregone conclusion. Takson would win.
While he was occupied, I moved on. I followed the mana trail left by the other clones, putting significant distance between myself and my apprentice. I finally stopped at the entrance to a large, two-story chamber.
It wasn't the boss room. It was an atrium, filled with pillars and debris, perfect terrain for an ambush.
Pew
The mont my head cleared the doorway, a beam of light shot from the darkness, aid perfectly at the center of my forehead.
In a first-person shooter ga from my old world, this would be the classic "sniper camping the hallway" scenario. Peak your head out, and you die.
But this was reality, and I was not a player character with low health.
"Aeterna Defensio"
A golden barrier flickered into existence inches from my face. The beam struck it and dissipated harmlessly.
[Analysis complete. Energy signature: Mana.]
Just as I thought. The Spiegel couldn't replicate my dinsional energy. It had substituted it with what it knew: magic.
[Damage assessnt: Negligible. Host chassis can withstand direct impact without defensive asures.]
Basically, I could have taken that shot to the face, and it wouldn't have even scratched the paint.
The hidden attacker, seemingly refusing to believe its failure, unleashed a barrage. Dozens of identical laser beams rained down on from the shadows.
I didn't move. I didn't dodge. I simply let my shield absorb them all. It was like throwing pebbles at a tank.
Then, the attack stopped.
Are they analyzing ? I wondered.
The Spiegel created copies that mimicked not just the body, but the combat instincts of the target. My fighting style was defined by observation: Gather data, analyze, replicate, counter. It seed my clones were attempting to do the sa.
I could hear the sounds of heavy combat coming from the corridor behind . Takson was fully engaged. Fighting oneself was a difficult trial for a first-tir, but my calculations showed he would win.
Silence returned to the atrium. The clones remained hidden, thinking they were safe in the shadows.
But they were wrong. My scanners had mapped the entire room the mont I entered. There were no hiding spots. I knew exactly where every single one of them was.
Suddenly, one of them moved.
A black blur shot out from a pillar, closing the distance at a speed invisible to the naked eye. It was a perfect physical copy of my chassis, moving with my speed.
Clang! Crack!
Our weapons collided.
I looked down at the sword in the clone's hand. It looked exactly like Sandalphon. The shape, the color, the design, it was identical.
But the mont it struck my real Sandalphon, it shattered. The blade crumbled into shards of violet light, leaving the clone holding nothing but a hilt.
It was a fake. A cheap knock-off.
My sensors analyzed the fragnts instantly. It wasn't a replicated Angel. It was the "Spell to Create Weapons," a common magic I had seen used by demons.
The Spiegel couldn't copy the concept of an Angel, so it had used magic to mold mana into the shape of a sword. It lacked the density, the weight, and the devastating power of the original.
It was a cargo cult copy. It mimicked the form but didn't understand the function.
I glanced at the clone's head. The chanical device there, the source of my connection to the Dinsional Engine, was present. But on the clone, it was just a lump of inert matter. A decoration.
I see. The Water Mirror Demon cannot fully replicate an Ex-Machina.
These things were just mana puppets wearing my skin. Crude imitations.
I didn't give the clone ti to process its weapon's failure. I swung Sandalphon.
The blade bit into the clone's left shoulder.
Resistance detected.
The blade slowed slightly. I was surprised. While their weapons were trash, their bodies were surprisingly durable.
The Spiegel had managed to compress enough mana to make their physical shells almost as hard as my own alloy chassis.
Impressive. But futile.
I had anticipated this. My blade was already coated in a frequency designed to disrupt magical structures, "Mana Breaker."
I pushed harder. The resistance vanished. The blade sliced cleanly through the clone's torso, exiting through its right hip.
The clone didn't bleed. It simply fell apart, its form losing cohesion before dissolving into a cloud of grey mist.
One down, I counted calmly. Seven to go.
….These things were just extensions of the main body. If I destroyed one, the Spiegel would simply create another. It was a war of attrition, an endless loop designed to drain the intruder's stamina.
However, this infinite production line proved my hypothesis: the Water Mirror Demon could not copy . Not truly.
To it, I was a glitch, an error in the world's logic that it couldn't compute. So, it was trying to bury under a mountain of cheap, mana-constructed knock-offs.
I had gathered all the data I needed. The clones were analyzed. They possessed no hidden abilities, no surprises. There was no longer any reason to prolong this.
Ti to speed things up.
"Endo Armant: Activate"
"Pseudo-Endo: Zafkiel Chet…"
Shadows coalesced around , forming into distinct shapes. Four identical copies of myself stepped out of the darkness, their golden eyes glowing.
Just as they materialized, the remaining enemy clones flooded the room. They charged without a sound, weapons raised.
But I ignored them. I had a "Decapitation Strike" to deliver. If I killed the Spiegel, the clones would vanish. I left the rabble to my own shadows and moved toward the boss chamber.
My sensors flickered with an update from my remote monitoring systems. Takson had successfully defeated his own doppelganger using Goddess Magic.
Acceptable performance.
But then, my map highlighted a new developnt.
Of the enemy clones swarming the atrium, three had broken away from the main group. They weren't targeting . They were bypassing the lee entirely, heading back down the corridor I had co from.
Target: Takson.
Technically, clearing this labyrinth was part of his monthly test. As the proctor, I set the paraters.
However...
Three copies of an Ex-Machina chassis, even imperfect ones, against a single human warrior? That wasn't a test. That was a massacre. It exceeded the paraters of a survivable encounter.
So...
….
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