Mythos Of Narcissus: Reborn As An NPC In A Horror VRMMO

"Father," she began, tone slightly hesitant. "Why didn't Lupina use the Prismforge provided by the Landship?"

It was a valid question—one that, admittedly, should've been asked before the fight had begun.

I chuckled softly, eyes still fixed on the battlefield. "Because she wanted to see if she could utilize her own body more than relying on a weapon."

Charis hummed in thought, watching as Lupina darted through the battlefield in a chaotic blur, her rock-textured wings and tail-booster acting as both offense and mobility.

"Well," she muttered, "That explains a lot."

The battlefield trembled beneath the relentless exchange of blows, the air thick with residual energy from each clash. Sparks of arcane force crackled through the sky, and the ground bore fresh scars from every impact, yet neither side showed signs of slowing.

Lupina and Verina had, for the first time, found a semblance of synergy—not perfect, not fluid, but at least a structure that didn't have them actively getting in each other's way.

They worked within their strengths, leveraging the stark contrast between Verina's measured precision and Lupina's sheer brute force to keep the Theogrunt from establishing full control over the engagement.

But while the battle had escalated into an intense back-and-forth, it was… noticeably restrained.

Charis picked up on it quickly.

She furrowed her brow, her silver eyes narrowing slightly as she followed the flow of the fight. "Verina's… not using her full power."

I smiled, folding my arms as I observed. "Correct."

Charis turned to me, waiting for elaboration. "She's holding back, isn't she?"

"She is," I confirmed. "Restricting herself from manifesting anything beyond a controlled output."

Charis tilted her head slightly. "But why?"

I let out a quiet chuckle. "Because she has to."

Charis looked back at the battlefield, watching as Verina's crystalline musket glowed with unstable energy, then unleashed a volley of precisely measured arcane blasts—each shot striking the perfect moment where the Theogrunt's motion left it the most vulnerable.

Her attacks were calculated, efficient—each one a surgical strike more than an aimed shot, executed with an economical amount of force that was managed like precious resources—but they lacked the overwhelming scale she had demonstrated before.

Back in her first fight, Verina had attempted to conjure a miniature sun—a celestial construct born from the fusion of conceptual heat born from Furnace and gravitational telekinetic collapse, so small yet so dense and volatile that it threatened to distort the surroundings.

If she attempted something like that now?

The fight wouldn't simply end.

Lupina. The Theogrunt. The entire battlefield itself—annihilated in an instant.

This wasn't a battle to prove power.

It was a battle to gather data.

So Verina was limiting herself.

Hard.

Lupina, on the other hand.

Well.

She was just being herself.

Wild. Unpredictable. Relentless.

A constant onslaught that ignored efficiency in favor of sheer, overwhelming pressure.

And yet, it was not without method.

For every precisely measured attack Verina executed, Lupina followed up with a crushing, unrestrained strike—like a storm hammering down upon a battlefield where lightning had already weakened the ground.

A force of nature, impossible to ignore despite the whimsical unprofessionalism.

And for all its speed, for all its precision, even the Theogrunt struggled to keep up.

It was adjusting rapidly to its situation, but Verina and Lupina were pushing it into a constant state of reaction.

It was unrelenting.

One moment, the Theogrunt was dodging a carefully placed energy shot, only for Lupina to barrel in from the side, her rock-textured wing smashing against its hastily raised defenses with bone-rattling force.

The next moment, as the Theogrunt repositioned to counter Lupina's chaotic momentum, a flicker of magic from Verina altered the battlefield's temperature in an instant, forcing the Theogrunt to compensate for the environmental shift before it could even think of retaliating.

There was no time for the Theogrunt to seize control.

Only time to react.

And as the minutes stretched, as the pressure mounted, the conclusion was becoming clear.

The fight wasn't won—not in a decisive sense.

But it had reached the point where a winner was inevitable.

The Theogrunt, despite its speed, despite its absolute efficiency, was being suppressed.

Lupina and Verina, for all their contrasting styles, had done what was once thought impossible.

They had forced it into a losing position.

That alone was enough.

I let my voice ring through the battlefield, cutting through the chaos like an absolute decree.

"That's enough."

The shift was obviously instantaneous.

Verina, mid-motion, smoothly lowered her musket, her eyes sharp but calm.

Lupina, on the other hand.

"Oh, sh—"

She had forgotten to slow down.

Her momentum—already at its peak—didn't just vanish because the fight was called off.

So when she attempted to halt her movement at the last second, the sheer force of her own speed sent her careening uncontrollably into the distance.

A second later, a distant crash echoed from somewhere far beyond the battlefield.

Then, from the distance, Lupina's voice.

"I'M OKAY!"

Lupina halted mid-air, her tail-booster flaring in an attempt to cancel her forward momentum, resulting in her spinning awkwardly in midair before catching herself.

The battle had reached its conclusion, but its impact extended far beyond mere victory or defeat.

It was a valuable data point—for both the neuromorphic network controlling the Gestalt Core and for Verina herself.

For the neuromorphic network, the results would refine its processing speed, allowing it to adapt more efficiently in future battles. Every exchange, every maneuver, every micro-adjustment had been recorded, analyzed, and optimized into its vast cognitive structure that was involved within the control of the Gestalt Core.

For Verina, the experience was just as critical. The Theogrunt was unlike typical adversaries—an entity that operated on pure calculation and seamless adaptability. Fighting against it forced her to fine-tune her own arcane execution, reaction speed, and battlefield control.

And for Lupina?

Well, I guess, she got a good workout.

Because she barely learned anything.

Her takeaway from the battle was painfully simple.

Fighting Theogrunts was fun.

Fighting Verina as a teammate was infuriating.

And, naturally, she didn't keep those thoughts to herself.

Still catching her breath, Lupina wiped the sweat from her brow before grabbing a massive cup of energetic drink concoction, lifting it as if she were downing a celebratory toast.

She took a long, exaggerated gulp—then slammed the cup down onto the table beside her with a loud thud.

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Then, with absolute certainty, she pointed straight at Verina.

"You," she declared, voice brimming with indignant frustration, "Are a terrible teammate."

Verina, unbothered, barely shifted her gaze. Her expression was unreadable as usual to others.

Lupina, undeterred, continued, her tail flicking behind her in agitated waves. "You're domineering, demanding, and completely inconsiderate of your partner's feelings." She crossed her arms, leaning forward as if trying to physically press her argument onto Verina. "Seriously! Do you even know what the word teamwork means?"

Verina then proceeded to chug the rest of her drink with abandon.

"If you were more competent," Verina said flatly, "I wouldn't have to do everything myself."

Lupina choked on her drink.

She coughed violently, nearly doubling over as she pounded her chest, her wings twitching in sheer offense and disbelief.

Charis, standing beside me, barely contained her laughter, her hand pressed against her mouth as she suppressed an amused snort.

Even I found myself thoroughly entertained.

Lupina, still recovering from her shock, slammed her cup onto the table once again—this time, with the sheer force of someone preparing to start a fight. "EXCUSE ME?!"

Verina, completely emotionless, had already turned her attention elsewhere, as if the conversation was beneath her concern.

They went back and forth like a comedy show, but it wasn't anything notable or important for their relationship development or anything.

Regardless, the resting session was short-lived.

Because now, the final test was ready to begin.

The Final Phase.

Verina and Lupina vs. Three Theogrunts

Just like that, the fighting field was expanded to accommodate this scenario in its best data-gathering environment.

The barrier dome enlarged, its defense layers reinforced to withstand the escalation of combat.

Now, all spectators, including Charis and I, were stationed outside the barrier, watching through the transparent layers of ohrtending reinforcement.

Inside, three Theogrunts stood in perfect synchronization.

Positioned strategically. Waiting. Calculating.

Verina and Lupina stood opposite them, both aware of the sheer difference in odds.

Before the battle could start, Charis turned to me, a frown on her lips.

"Father," she began. "Isn't this… unfair?"

"Hmm?"

"It took both of them just to suppress one Theogrunt in a low-collateral damage fight." She gestured to the battlefield. "Now they have to fight three? This feels like overkill."

I smiled. A quiet, knowing smile. "Then why didn't either of them disagree to it?"

Neither Lupina nor Verina had opposed this fight.

Lupina stretched her arms, rolling her shoulders, grinning with excitement.

Verina merely adjusted her gloves, calm and unreadable.

They had no objections.

Because they wanted this fight.

Charis exhaled, crossing her arms. "You're enjoying this."

"Of course."

This was going to be a very interesting fight.

And as one of the Duolos vessels raised her hand.

The signal was given.

"Begin."

The barrier dome transformed.

The very space within twisted and shifted, the air becoming dense, the ground subtly warping, the arena shifting into something entirely new.