I Died and Received an SSS-Rank Unique Ability-Chapter 62: Doppelganger

Klein’s shortsword struck again, but this time, Vale parried the blow with practised ease. With a fluid twist of his blade, he disarmed the student—sending the weapon clattering across the icy floor.

"What the hell are you doing, Klein?" Vale asked, stepping back, eyes narrowed and locked onto the young man.

There was no answer.

Klein’s eyes were... vacant. Hollow.

Without a word, he summoned another weapon—his old blade, the one Vale remembered from their first meeting. He lunged forward again, silent and unblinking, like a puppet pulled by an invisible string.

Vale’s frown deepened.

Unwilling to waste more time on a fight that made no sense, he focused inward—and from the shadows behind him, the Dark Knight surged into existence. Its towering, armoured form materialised with a swirl of black smoke, intercepting Klein’s strike in one smooth motion. In a single, effortless shove, it pinned the student against the wall, holding him in place like a doll.

Vale approached slowly, studying the emotionless struggle. Klein fought against the knight’s grip, but there was no fear in his eyes. No pain. No recognition. Just blank, mindless resistance.

Vale’s thoughts raced. It didn’t seem like a possession—or at least it didn’t feel like it. It was more like the real Klein got replaced... by something inhuman, something pretending to be him.

But before Vale could find the answer, a sound of heavy footsteps echoed sharply behind him.

Vale spun around and froze at the sight.

There, standing at the edge of the fog, was Klein. The real one. His eyes wide with fear.

"Vale?!" he shouted, voice cracking as he sprinted forward.

Before Vale could process what he was seeing, another figure rounded the same corner—one that made his blood run cold.

It was him.

Or something that looked exactly like him.

"What the f—"

He didn’t have time to finish the thought.

The doppelganger lunged with terrifying speed, his own blade—Hellfire—wreathed in orange flame as it carved through the air with violent precision.

Klein stumbled in panic, hitting the ground hard as he scrambled to get away.

Vale moved on instinct.

He dashed forward, intercepting the strike meant for Klein. The blade of the two identical weapons met. The clash echoed like thunder through the icy labyrinth, bouncing off every frozen wall in a chorus of chaos.

The doppelganger didn’t speak. It didn’t hesitate. It simply pressed forward, relentless with its attacks, blow after blow, like it existed for the sole purpose of erasing the original.

Then, in the midst of one vicious exchange, Vale staggered. A strange weakness spread through his limbs, as if his strength was being siphoned away by an invisible force.

"This—" Realisation struck like lightning. A debuff.

But before he could act, the doppelganger struck again—this time, too fast for even Vale to react.

Hellfire tore into his leg.

The blade bit deep, and a searing pain exploded through him. Warm blood poured down his thigh, soaking his boot within moments.

Still, Vale gritted his teeth and kept defending, muscles burning with the effort. His movements had grown sluggish, slowed by the ability that clung to him like frostbite. He grunted, pushing through the pain.

"Debuff!" he shouted.

Without hesitation, Klein activated his own ability, targeting Vale’s doppelganger and evening the playing field.

The effect was immediate. The clone’s attacks slowed just enough, giving Vale a window to fight back despite the injury.

He switched to the offence, limping as he moved, each strike more desperate than the last. Yet every swing was parried flawlessly, as if the doppelganger knew precisely what he was going to do before he even did it.

"This is weird," Vale muttered, his eyes narrowing.

The copy mirrored him perfectly. Every feint, every shift in balance—it reacted as if it had fought a hundred battles with him before.

But it seemed to lack one thing—his spirit.

The Dark Knight, still looming at the edge of the battlefield, held Klein’s clone pinned to the wall like a lifeless doll.

Vale sent a silent command toward his spirit.

The knight moved with grim precision. Its massive black longsword whistled through the air, cleaving through Klein’s double in a single, brutal stroke.

There was no blood.

Instead, the head shattered on impact, breaking into shards of glittering ice that scattered across the ground.

Klein let out a shaky breath, his eyes wide with unease. But Vale had already turned back to the fight.

With Klein’s doppelganger gone, the debuff no longer affected him. The tide of the battle had turned instantly.

Vale felt the strength return to his limbs, a fiery surge pulsing through him. He activated the enchantment on his blade—orange flames burst to life, dancing along the steel.

The doppelganger mirrored him once more, its sword igniting with matching fire.

But Vale wasn’t finished.

He reached inward, beyond the enchantment of his weapon and toward his unique ability. The flames shifted, darkened in almost an instant. The sword in his hand now blazed with black, ravenous flame.

He struck.

The doppelganger moved to block, but the dark flame overwhelmed the orange in an instant. Vale’s blade tore clean through its guard, slashing across its torso. The flames consumed the fake from within, spreading like wildfire until nothing but a flickering shadow remained.

Heavy silence fell inside the icy corridor.

Vale stood alone, breath heaving in the stillness. The last flickers of black flame died at his feet.

"You okay?" Klein’s voice came from behind.

Vale nodded slowly, still catching his breath. "Yeah."

"That was... weird," Klein added, studying the shattered remains of his once doppelganger.

Vale turned, his eyes meeting Klein’s. "Yeah,"

They stood in silence for a moment, ice cracking quietly underfoot.

"Any clue where the others are?" Vale finally asked.

Klein shook his head. "The moment I noticed they were gone, I got attacked by you... I mean the fake you... Whatever that thing was."

Vale lingered for a moment.

"Makes sense," He muttered, a shadow crossing his face. He himself hadn’t realised when the group vanished either—it was as if the maze had swallowed them whole.

A deep frown settled over his features. The voice hadn’t announced any kills, which meant those things weren’t alive... and they had no cores.

"What the hell are they?" he whispered under his breath, more to himself than to Klein.

The question hung in the air like the ever-present cold, but it wasn’t the only question that weighed on them.

Where is the rest of their group?

He considered using his relic to scan for them, but quickly dismissed the thought. He’d already used it twice. Without any mana crystals to replenish his mana reserves, pushing it further would only risk draining his essence entirely. He was nearing his limit.

With a tired exhale, Vale turned toward Klein.

"We need to keep moving," he said, his tone grim but steady.

Klein gave a tense nod.

Choosing a direction at random, the two ventured deeper into the labyrinth of ice.