The One Being Protected [Magical Girl Urban Fantasy]

"I'm unable to understand why you're making that kind of face." The One Above All broke me out of my trance. It was hard to speak. My heart was unsettled for a long time after what I'd narrated. Thankfully, I had a gracious listener who gave me time to loosen.

I stretched my arms while looking at the ceiling.

"Only a sociopath could witness what happened next and NOT be moved." This wasn't hard to explain. It was only natural. I'd been invested in his story from the very beginning. Seeing him hurt himself only made me feel bad. Feel like I'd made a mistake.

"…Things don't add up." His listener spoke up.

"I'll accommodate any questions." I needed some time to gather myself. Having a quick Q&A with him should calm me down. I was sure my story so far was consistent. I'd even gone as far as to hint at many things by mentioning the Correction Phenomenon.

"Why do you call him 'a slave to his conscience'? It sounds excessive to call him a mere 'coward to his nightmares'. You have been building him up as some great hero all this time, so why criticise him?" The man couldn't possibly understand what I really felt.

This love-hate relationship I had was complicated.

"I didn't give him the ability to regress time in order to save the world. Just saving himself is enough." It was perhaps my most raw of confessions so far. The man before didn't know how to react. Perhaps he'd misunderstood due to how Ben had been acting.

"Weren't you boasting about how you helped save that Earth?" The One Above All reminded me of the reason he'd heard me out for so long in the first place. If I had never intended to save the world, then what merit was there in letting me live through this?

"I was explaining that this situation of me doing anything with causality won't repeat itself. Ben was a special case." Maybe remembering those events had loosened my mouth. It felt like I'd been sharing a secret with someone who I could confide in a little.

I leaned on the table with both hands on my face.

"Haaaah…" My sigh seemed to make him awkward.

He didn't throw me down or punch me.

Giving me time to process.

"You seemed to like him a lot more than I'd given you credit for." The man put those scary gloves in his pocket and looked at my attitude. Maybe we had gotten close in this period of bonding, but I wasn't quite sure. People like myself were unpredictable.

"Obviously. I'd made a decision I'd knew would get me killed just for him." My mouth was twitching at such an absurd accusation. Did he still believe I was lying at this point? Come up with such an elaborate tale to act like it was part of events that happened? 

He overestimated my patience.

I was not so crazy to just hallucinate these events.

"Is his happy ending worth taking that risk…?" He continued to disparage me. Speaking as if he knew better than me. Even though we were both aware that most of this realm were simply apathetic. They did not deem Earthlings worth thinking about much.

Extravagantly spending infinity living their myths.

This place simply being heaven for many.

All that one desired could be found here.

This was simply the nature of the imaginary.

"You would never understand." I'd realised that even the man before me was no different. It made me feel a little betrayed. There were so many things on my mind, but not any one god of this realm understood me. I'd lived the life of a solitary star all this time.

There was no difficulty in continuing that lifestyle.

"That isn't my problem. It's just strange you'd give him suffering and then act like this." I could feel an ominous premonition of what he was implying. The disgust I'd felt only heightened the more he spoke so hypocritically. Knowing exactly what he meant.

"…You say I was the one making him suffer?"

"Didn't you? Death is eternal slumber. Although he was suffering a lot in life, he could've ended it all with a sweet death. Earthlings aren't worth so much time and effort." How laughable. The One Above All lived up to his name of being so 'high' in the air.

So far up that he couldn't see the ants on the floor.

"You sound like a god." My words were of mockery and derision, but he didn't mind. Seeing my hostility as nothing more than the immature reaction of a trickster god losing an argument. Fortunately, he pretended to not know what I meant by my words.

"I'm simply stating the facts." He raised his hands.

Pretending that he wasn't picking a fight with me.

"You may be 'The One Above All', but you seriously aren't that special." I'd finally said something that I shouldn't have. His eyes constricted at my blatant insult. Wondering if I'd gone crazy to test what were his limits. The next words were spoken arrogantly:

"What are you blathering about?"

"If dying was such a good and great thing, then I wouldn't have tried to survive as this kind of existence. You also would consider death a way to punish unruly gods like me." His careless words were met with my unusually emotional response.

Each sentence having a good line of reasoning.

He couldn't dismiss it easily.

"…That's different." The man had weakly argued.

Avoiding my gaze momentarily with a soft voice.

"Why do you mock me? You know well that what I'd given him were truly my sincere blessings. I'd gave him time travel, power, and opportunity. Even a new face so he could start his life from the beginning." It was crazy to think that my intentions were unclear.

I'd genuinely given him everything he'd want.

"You'd already revealed that last one as a prank." I almost coughed when The One Above All pointed that part out. Maybe I went too far with my playful nature. Still, it didn't give him the right to criticise me for not accommodating my apostle enough.

"Even so, it wasn't a malicious prank." I stressed.

"Alright. Alright… You don't have to explain every little thing. Can we continue the story?" It looked like he was now invested in what'd happen next. I wasn't sure if my recounting of the events would satisfy him, but there wasn't any reason to stop.

Since I had calmed somewhat, I spoke more frankly.

What my apostle experienced was truly arduous…

[Statistics:

—Strength Tier= D (Enhanced Human)

—Agility Tier= F (Human)

—Speed Tier= F (Human)

—Defence Tier= F (Human)

—Magic Tier= Rankless (Unawakened)]

Versus…

[Statistics:

—Strength Tier= D+ (Enhanced Human)

—Agility Tier= E (Peak Human)

—Speed Tier= E (Peak Human)

—Defence Tier= E (Peak Human)

—Magic Tier= Rankless (Unawakened)]

The combination of stats plus martial prowess was multiplicative. Ben may not have any way of really knowing Vascovitch's stats, but he experienced it first hand every 'retry'. Repeating the same fight with his opponent charging at him undauntedly.

No, this was Ben's feeling about it alone.

His rational mind knew this wasn't entirely correct.

Vascovitch was starting off pissed at Ben for what he'd carelessly said. He was heartless when dealing with an outsider. Not holding back even a little bit every time the battle started. The only one who had to deal with the after effects of the fight was Ben.

Even though the pain was brief before he was declared as having lost the battle, it was true that he had to go through the entire fight with different thoughts and emotions each time. The disparity in their levels on highlighted how weak he actually was.

It made him feel ashamed.

How long had he lived?

If he hadn't tried all this time in getting stronger by himself, then he wouldn't feel this disappointed every time he failed to live up to HIS OWN expectations of himself. The ghosts were silent, but he had this nagging feeling that they were laughing.

Especially his former self.

"Didn't you throw away your Innate Gift for a more stabler path? Now you feel annoyed that you actually have to spend time and effort improving?" When the voice he'd expected to hear behind him rang out, it was a lot less discouraging than he initially expected.

Ben looked at his hands.

Their feminine and thin appearance.

Although they were no longer scarred by his original timeline's previous experiences, it didn't make him any happier. Early on, he was being optimistic that he might be able to reach that low chance of winning this battle… but each attempt enlightened him.

If it wasn't enough that he had to relearn how to move his body to correctly express his expert-level skill in Street Mixed Martial Arts, but he also had to experience nearly dying several times. Being hit as a woman felt different than when he was hit as a man.

Men only had to turn their body to hide their crotch.

However, a woman's bosom out under their collar.

Getting in the way even when properly tied down.

Especially his big ones. They moved too vigorously.

If the opponent was the type of man to care about the fairer sex, maybe he could use this… but the opponent was livid. Striking him down regardless if he had boobs or not. Stomping on his face and ripping out his hair like he was some kind of fiend.

Vascovitch made him realise the difference between his past and current self 'intimately'. His honed and rough appearance as a man wasn't simply looks alone. Getting hit and straining his body over the years had numbed his nerve's sensitivity to pain.

Now, his body had been reset before his training.

Each strike felt way more painful than it did when he was active as a wandering exorcist. Maybe his Innate Gift had also played a part in this… but that wasn't the end of his difficulties. Being struck as a woman felt different from when he was struck as a man.

Especially when Vascovitch stomped on his chest.

Flattening the mass of flesh on his right side.

He felt pain a man could never imagine.

All this contributed to his waning mental state.

There was no such thing as regaining his trained body with experience using the retry function. He was trapped in a time loop where his body would be unable to be tempered. His muscles would not increase. His talent capped what he could learn.

Just earlier, Ben fought against the MiniBoss.

He had raised his hands into an optimal MMA form that made it convenient to switch between grabs and strikes. Armed with his experiences in the type of CQC that his opponent was an expert in, and the many variations of moves that he could expect.

He aimed to finish things in the first move.

Hoping to not get hit even once by the large man.

The opponent's defence likely wasn't as strong as his attack. If he landed a clean finishing move, then Vascovitch would go down. It wasn't like there was no hope. Ben simply had to remember the variations of moves that the giant would react with early on.

Therein lay the problem.

Regardless of how smartly he planned it out in his head… reality wasn't so easy. He had to experience the attacks with his body each time. Sometimes the battle ended so fast that he didn't have time to remember the move. He could only do it once again.

Start fighting, remember why he lost, repeat…

Start fighting, try to apply the memory, lose, repeat…

Start fighting, get surprised by a new move, repeat…

Start fighting, remember why he lost, repeat…

Again. Again. He lost. Again. Again. He forgot due to suffering a serious concussion in that moment. His head was light, then back to normal. A feeling as if his body was fading. It was to the point that he just wanted to rest. Knowing he'd do this from the start.

He actually did rest once.

Ben tried to regain composure, but it was a mistake.

The moment he loosened his mind and got out of that pressured state, his memories had distorted. He forgot that Vascovitch had faster reflexes than him from the beginning. He had to win several exchanges in one moment if he wanted to overcome his foe.

Akin to answering a short questionnaire blindfolded.

He lost. The answer was wrong. Try again. Try again.

Try again.

Try again.

Try again.

Try again.

Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. Try again. 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"I can't stop now. I have to try again." This thought had drove him to insanity. He tried to convince himself that he'd gone too far to stop now, but he also couldn't stop himself from thinking that maybe it would be mature of him if he just accepted reality.

His reflexes was the problem.

Technique didn't matter here.

It was the difference in stats.

There was no overcoming this.

It didn't matter how hard he tried to come up with a plan. If the opponent saw it coming, then they would adapt appropriately. Vascovitch always struck Ben down so fast that he didn't even have time to look at how he lost. The pain would hit before recognition.

This was why he lost.

There was no going around it.

He was simply outclassed.

There was no other reason.

Vascovitch did five moves in the time Ben could think of one and acted upon it. If he really wanted to win, he had to give up thought to act faster than his brain could process the events unfolding. Give up his ability to think and rely solely on his experiences.

Was that easy to accomplish?

Even though he was the one who thought up this crazy plan, it was an unrealistic expectation. It was not just about the plan itself. His own emotions were not a static line. There were times when he got fed up and just wanted to throw away what he achieved.

Giving up the plan halfway.

He could just die here. There was no repercussion.

No one could judge him. No one could tell him he was a coward for running away. Realistically, this was an impossible battle to begin with. It wasn't like his skills as a fighter would improve just because he was fighting for a long time. It didn't work like that.

People said 'life is like a game'. As if to say that just by living, you gained experience points. This was an assumption based on a misunderstanding. Only the people who had never played a game in their life would think that 'game logic' worked in that way.

Games sometimes reflected reality…

To improve a skill, it wasn't enough to simply use it a lot. You needed real guidance. Someone to teach you their methods and formulas, then either memorise it or expand your understanding. Getting beat up DID NOT expand one's understanding over martial arts.

At his darkest moment, he heard a different voice.

It was not from one of his ghosts, thankfully.

A sickly youth appeared in his memory. Someone who would always, without question, join Dawn City's military in order to acquire their prescriptions that created super soldiers. Learn the honed CQC and battle techniques that he was unfamiliar with.

One time, however… He revealed his deepest secret.

That he was from an 'Internal Martial Arts Family'.

He was not a civilian.

This young man was part of the supernatural world.

It was thanks to this young man's guidance over his years as a rogue exorcist that he managed to survive for so long. Maybe due to Ben's friendship with Samantha Plum at the time, that person helped him in acquiring deeper understanding of battle itself.

Even though their levels never got any closer.

Ben was no 'Martial Artist'.

He didn't even know the first thing about internal breathing and the like. Never being able to wrap his head around why he was never able to beat that guy in a fair fight. The memories started to flow in of every lesson he was given regarding 'Martial Arts'.

What was his name again?

"Alex." When he spoke that name, the face of an old and taller male appeared before him. It was similar to the ghost of his past self, but this face didn't seem as haunting. His gaze did not hold pity or criticism for his actions. It was a familiar look from the past.

A repeat of a memory.

"You can't learn Internal Arts." This was said briefly.

And it took time for him to learn exactly why.

"Your body can't handle it." Alex tried to explain.

Although it was true Ben was stronger against evil spirits in the past, his 'Silver Container' made it so he couldn't circulate Mana or any other power than purifying energy. It limited his potential and made him unable to learn even the most basic Internal Art.

So what was his solution?

"Resolve yourself. The strength of a martial artist comes from the heart. It isn't about wanting to be stronger, it's about resolving yourself to overcome the necessary hardship. No matter what obstacle comes in your way, you must continue forward on the path you have set. Even if you die." Alex was repeating the words spoken to him in the past.

Saying it word for word.

The youth a living example of his own philosophy.

Though once unable to lift a cup himself, the young man had grown to the point of becoming what one would call a 'Grandmaster'. His strength being unfathomable to Ben in the future. Far surpassing what anyone could've ever believed he could achieve.

This was done through realism and resolve.

Not unrefined and unrealistic desires.

"I can't give up now." Ben finally calmed down.

His gaze no longer the same as before.

He asked himself if victory was possible. If his endeavour had any point. Could he realistically be victorious over Vascovitch if he used the privilege given to him. If he resolved himself, then could he realistically win? Was there at least a chance?

"I can win this." Ben thought this confidently.

He fought against Vascovitch again, but nothing had changed from before. Still, he was losing against the person that was better than him. Smarter, faster, stronger, tougher, and quicker in thinking. There was little progress being made towards his goal.

But 'little' was better than no progress at all.

Predicting five moves ahead was daunting.

However, Ben managed to inevitably read into Vascovitch's personality enough to know what was the initial move he favoured. A livid and aggressive man would always start with a strike to the face. He would try to cave in Ben's pretty face with cruelty.

This being followed by another strike to the ribs.

The second move onward would slowly be shifted from emotion to reason. The last move of the five exchanges was always the most efficient to make regardless of what position he was in. Because it was a completely rational move, it was always the worst.

At least for Ben, anyways.

If he clung to Vascovitch's arm, he would be thrown.

If he backed off, a strike would hit him in the face.

The fifth exchange was always perfectly executed.

Ben continued his wordless struggle. Even when he accurately deduced all the variations of the second and third exchange, he kept on fighting regardless of his mental state. His mind falling into a state of focus he could never achieve when he was at school.

[You have entered 'The Zone'.]

[Negative Trait is temporarily lifted.]

[You are touching the realm of 'Silver Eyes'.]

[Your absolute resolve is taking physical form.]

There was a silver glow appearing in his pupils that started to spread outwards. Countless layers of strategies were sorted through, and he was now reworking his brain just for this fight alone. Trying to turn himself into the bane of his opponent.

The losses continued to happen, but he was no longer in a state of weighing other options he had.

Completely becoming a fighting machine.