Chapter 47: First Encounter with Kalpas, My Name is Rovel
"Chariot~ Chariot~!"
In the game interface of Honkai Impact 3rd, a Chariot-class Honkai Beast might only appear a few meters tall. In reality, however, even the smallest of their kind towered over ten meters high. Anything less would hardly justify the name "Chariot."
The next second, the level 50 behemoth launched itself into the air, its massive frame blotting out the simulated sky as it arced directly toward Rovel's position.
Instinct took over. Rovel's hand shot into his system inventory, pulling out the high-quality wooden sword. He braced himself, his mind racing, wondering if he could possibly withstand a direct impact from such a creature.
But before the Chariot-class Honkai Beast could complete its descent, something impossible happened. It seemed to defy the very laws of physics; its graceful parabolic trajectory abruptly shattered, shifting into a dead-vertical, plummeting freefall. Its massive body slammed into the ground at a terrifying speed, kicking up a colossal cloud of dust and debris that swallowed the landscape.
"Chariot... Chariot..."
A weak, pathetic wail echoed from within the obscuring haze before the beast's form dissolved into shimmering particles of data and dissipated into nothingness.
As the dust began to settle, a figure slowly emerged. Silver-white hair, the tips tinged with a subtle hint of black, swayed gently in the breeze, lending his appearance a strange depth. His skin possessed a healthy, vibrant glow, a stark contrast to his dark, practical clothing. An elbow guard was strapped firmly to his left arm.
Though he appeared somewhat lean, the taut lines of muscle hidden beneath his attire promised a terrifying, explosive power.
His face was completely obscured by a pitch-black mask. It was fashioned in the likeness of a demon, its expression one of pure, undiluted fury. The surface was covered in twisted, gnarled textures, like the age-worn wrinkles on the stone skin of a mythological statue, as if it were perpetually channeling the rage burning in its wearer's heart.
[Name:???]
[Level:???]
[Trust:???]
[Danger Level: Extremely High!]
It was just like his first encounter with Mobius; the system could tell him nothing. Yet, Rovel recognized him in an instant. The man who had just saved him was none other than that famously smiling, sunny, and cheerful young man—Kalpas.
"Oh, a new challenger?" Kalpas's tone was flat, laced with an unnerving indifference.
Though the mask hid his expression, Rovel could feel an intense gaze sizing him up, weighing his worth. A few seconds of unnerving silence passed before Kalpas delivered his verdict.
"So weak."
'Are you talking about yourself?' Rovel thought, the polite retort forming on his tongue before he wisely swallowed it. He had no desire to find out if Kalpas might suddenly decide to incinerate him with a casual burst of flame.
Seriously, what was with his luck? He'd run into Mobius on his first trip and now Kalpas on his second. Was Aponia next? He could almost hear her prophetic voice now: 'Your arrival will bring destruction to the Elysian Realm, you naturally evil Descender brat. I shall personally…'
Rovel shook his head, forcefully casting the strange, intrusive thoughts from his mind.
"I'm not a challenger," he explained, keeping his voice steady. "To be honest, although this is my second time here, I'm just as surprised as you are to have suddenly appeared again."
What surprised Rovel even more was the lack of suffocating pressure. When he had first met Mobius, her mere presence had been an overwhelming force. Kalpas, for all his menace, was not exuding that same crushing aura. This small mercy allowed Rovel to actually communicate with him.
"This place... it's the depths of the Elysian Realm, isn't it?" Rovel asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. If Kalpas was here, it was almost certainly his personal hunting ground.
But Kalpas had no intention of indulging him. He simply turned and began walking away.
"Kalpas, could you please help me get out of here?"
The words stopped the Flame-Chaser in his tracks. He turned slowly, bringing a hand up to his ear and picking at it with theatrical disbelief, as if he couldn't have possibly heard correctly.
"You... want me to help you get out?"
"As you can see, I'm very weak," Rovel said with disarming honesty. "I probably couldn't have handled that Chariot-class beast on my own. If this really is the depths of the Elysian Realm, there's a high probability I won't be able to make it out alive."
He was slowly coming to terms with his status as a bona fide weakling. If he couldn't fight his way out, what else was there to do? Find someone strong and cling to them.
"What does that have to do with me?" Kalpas sneered, his voice dripping with contempt. "I have no such obligation."
"That's true..." Rovel felt a headache forming. While it was technically possible to talk to Kalpas, having a normal, productive conversation with him was clearly out of the question.
And so, with no other options, Rovel began to follow him. He couldn't even log out at the moment; trailing the one-man army was his only logical course of action.
Kalpas paid him no mind, continuing his grim patrol and hunting the Honkai Beasts that populated the area. Most of the creatures were of an unidentifiable level, but Rovel could still recognize some of the more infamous types. Templar-class knights, hulking Honkai Emperors, and even Emperor-class behemoths like Ganesha and Parvati.
Among them, only the Emperor-class beasts could manage to withstand Kalpas's onslaught for more than a few moments. The others couldn't even survive a single kick.
Kalpas's fighting style was incredibly savage, a whirlwind of unrestrained brutality that resembled a berserk beast more than a trained warrior. Yet, there was a strange, hypnotic satisfaction in watching his fists connect, each blow landing with devastating finality.
'It would be even better if there was an "Ora Ora Ora" sound effect,' Rovel mused.
Suddenly, a series of notifications chimed in his mind.
[Ding! Through close observation of Kalpas's battle, you have learned the skill: Basic Combat (White).]
[Basic Combat (White): The most fundamental fighting technique. Though it is basic, it is the foundation from which all other combat skills must be built.]
[Ding! Through close observation of Kalpas's battle, Basic Combat (White) skill proficiency +100.]
[Basic Combat (White) · Entry (100/100). Proficiency is full. Promoted to the next stage.]
[Basic Combat (White) · Proficient: (0/1000).]
"Hmm? You can get good stuff like this?" Rovel blinked, a slow smile spreading across his face. He hadn't expected that he could gain skill proficiency just by watching a fight.
[Ding! Through close observation of Kalpas's battle, Basic Combat (White) skill proficiency +100.]
[Ding! Through close observation of Kalpas's battle, Basic Combat (White) skill proficiency +100.]
...
The notifications became a comforting, rhythmic chime in his ears, echoing every few moments as Kalpas tore through another wave of monsters. Time blurred. Just as Rovel noticed that his Basic Combat skill was only 100 proficiency points away from reaching Mastery, Kalpas abruptly stopped.
"Go out from here," he grunted, pointing toward a barely visible path in the distance. "Don't follow me, weakling. The Elysian Realm is not for you."
With that, he turned and began walking back into the deepest, darkest parts of the realm.
Rovel realized that, without even noticing, he had been led to the outer edge of the territory.
'Honestly, if you were going to bring me out, you could have just said so,'Rovel complained inwardly.'What a tsundere, this Brother Kalpas.'
"Thank you," he called out. "But please don't call me a weakling. I have a name. My name is Rovel."
That sentence seemed to flip a switch. Kalpas froze in his tracks once more.
He seemed to have heard the most hilarious joke in existence. A low chuckle escaped from behind the mask, quickly escalating into a wild, roaring peal of laughter that echoed across the desolate plains.
"Hehehe... Hahahaha...!"
"I don't think there's anything funny about that," Rovel said, his voice quiet but serious.
Kalpas's laughter cut off as if severed by a blade. He turned, tilting his head at an unnatural angle with an audible crack of bone.
And then Rovel felt it. The pressure. It slammed into him like a physical wave, a top-tier predator's aura that made the air thick and hard to breathe. No... this was even more intense, more primal and suffocating than what he had felt from Mobius.
"Do you think," Kalpas's voice was a low, dangerous growl, "you are truly worthy of having me remember your name?"
In response, Rovel reached for the high-quality wooden sword at his hip. He drew it, its simple form a stark contrast to the monstrous power radiating from the man before him.
"My name is Rovel."
He didn't answer Kalpas's question. Instead, he simply repeated his own words, a quiet declaration of self. Then, he settled the sword against his waist, shifting his feet into a low stance.
He could feel his arm trembling violently, a biological instinct screaming at him to run, to submit. Gritting his teeth, Rovel activated his Clear Mirror Sword Intent. A wave of deep calm washed over his mind, stilling the tremor in his hand and sharpening his focus to a razor's edge.
"Hokushin Ittō-ryū: Battōjutsu!"
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