Patch stood across from the new enemy.
A four-armed beast, each thick limb carrying a different weapon.
'Great,' Patch thought grimly, fists tightening, 'four weapons, four different headaches. Perfect.'
He narrowed his eyes, sizing it up.
'The dagger's for close range. Fast. Punctures easy.
The chain whip's for distance. Control. Can't let it wrap me up.
The sword... that's for slashing mid-range. Not great against armor, but guess what?
I don't have armor.'
He winced, feeling the cuts crisscrossing his body. His blood was sticky on his skin, drying in itchy patches.
'And the club... yeah. That's for smashing armor. And bones. My bones.'
He swayed a little on his feet.
'I also feel like I'm about to pass out.'
Patch was covered in blood and shallow cuts, every inch of him aching. His ribs throbbed where he was sure something inside had cracked.
He'd had two thirty-minute rests, but after back-to-back life-or-death fights, it barely made a dent. His whole body felt heavy, like he was dragging chains with every step.
He shook out his hands, gauntlets creaking. His fingers were stiff. His legs ached.
But quitting wasn't an option.
He stared at the beast again, studying it carefully.
'It's big. Huge. Easily a head, maybe two, taller than me.
Four weapons, each covering a different weakness.
Range advantage, strength advantage, probably stamina advantage too.
I'm bleeding, broken, half-blind from exhaustion... and I have to fight that thing.'
Patch cracked his neck to the side, spat blood onto the stone floor, and planted his feet.
The beast moved first.
It didn't rush. No dramatic charge. It just walked forward slowly, deliberately, its whip arm swinging in lazy circles.
Like it wasn't even taking him seriously.
Patch tensed. When the whip lashed out, he was already moving.
He ducked low, feeling the air buzz past his hair as the metal-tipped cord cracked over where he'd just stood.
'Gotta learn its patterns. Figure out the timing,' Patch thought, heart pounding.
He surged forward, aiming to close the gap and land a quick hit—
But the beast reacted instantly, raising the club like a shield. Patch's fist hit solid wood with a dull thud.
Before he could recover, the dagger stabbed toward him. He barely jerked away in time.
Patch skidded back, breathing hard.
'Alright. First rush, blocked. It's not slow after all. Defense is tight.'
He circled again, feinting left, then right, looking for an opening.
The beast didn't bite. It just kept that same heavy, mechanical patience, swinging the whip out whenever he got too close, always ready to counter with a club or stab.
Patch gritted his teeth.
This wasn't just a brute. It was smart.
The next time he lunged in, the sword came slicing at him—fast, a shallow arc aimed at his ribs.
Patch threw up his gauntlet and blocked it, the metal scraping with a harsh screech against his gloves.
Before he could reset, the club slammed into his side.
Patch was thrown backwards, landing hard on his back.
The impact sent a jolt of agony through his ribs. He bit back a scream and rolled to his feet.
He barely managed to dodge the next whip strike, ducking under it with a sloppy stumble.
'I can't win in a battle of endurance,' Patch thought, chest heaving. 'I'm bleeding, exhausted, broken... if I drag this out, I lose.'
The beast advanced again, whip coiling.
'I need to end it fast. Somehow.'
Patch tried another rush, but again the whip kept him just outside striking range. Every time he got in close, the monster blocked with the club or stabbed with the dagger.
He was starting to slow. He could feel it. His body wasn't keeping up with his mind anymore.
'Think, dammit! Gotta find a way around its guard...'
He wiped blood from his eyes with his sleeve.
Then an idea hit him.
Dirty fighting. Braga's voice echoed faintly in his battered mind: _If you're losing fair, stop fighting fair._
Patch faked another lunge, baiting the whip swing.
This time, instead of charging blindly, he swiped a handful of blood from his face and hurled it.
The glob of blood splattered into the creature's eyes.
The beast recoiled, flinching, its arms raising instinctively to protect its face.
Patch didn't waste the opening.
He charged full-force, slamming a heavy punch into the beast's midsection. It absorbed the blow, but staggered slightly.
Patch followed with another, this time aiming for the whip arm.
The impact jarred the weapon loose from the creature's fingers.
The whip clattered to the stone floor.
Patch kicked it away without hesitating, sending it skidding across the arena.
The beast stumbled back, now swinging wildly with its remaining weapons, trying to regain control.
Its blows were sloppy, erratic. Wild anger, not practiced skill.
'One down. Three to go,' Patch thought, breathing hard.
The beast charged this time, reckless.
The sword came slashing in a brutal arc. Patch barely blocked it, sliding backward with the force.
He countered, punching into the club-wielding arm's wrist.
The blow made the creature's grip falter.
Patch grabbed the club with his left hand, trying to rip it free—
But pain shot through him.
The dagger flashed, stabbing deep into his forearm.
Patch screamed, white-hot agony exploding through his nerves. His grip faltered.
The club slipped from his bloody hand.
The creature yanked the club back and swung it down in a brutal overhead smash.
Patch, thinking fast, raised his injured left arm to block.
'It's already broken anyway,' he thought grimly.
The club hit his arm with a sickening crack.
Patch's vision flared white. His forearm bent at an unnatural angle, bones shattered completely.
He roared through gritted teeth and countered.
With all the strength he had left, he threw a right-handed haymaker straight at the creature's temple.
The punch landed clean.
The beast staggered, its knees buckling.
Patch didn't stop.
He drove a brutal punch into its gut.
The creature bent forward, wheezing.
Patch jumped, bringing his knee up into its chin with a sharp crack.
Then, as the creature reeled, he brought his fist down in a hammerfist, slamming the top of its skull.
The beast collapsed like a sack of rocks.
Patch stumbled backward a step—and fell.
Face-down, body screaming, blood dripping from a hundred wounds.
'I won,' he thought, dazed.
'I actually beat it. Lost my arm, maybe my ribs, most of my blood... but I won.'
He smiled bitterly against the cold stone floor.
'I can't win another fight. No way.'
He forced himself up to one elbow, voice hoarse.
"I quit," he rasped.
Nothing.
"I give up."
Still nothing.
"I resign. I can't fight anymore. End trial," he said, barely above a whisper.
Finally, the system responded.
[SYSTEM]
Round Three – COMPLETE.
Rest Period: 30 minutes.
"...No way," Patch breathed.
No matter what he said, the system wasn't going to let him stop.
He closed his eyes, trying to will the world away.
Thirty minutes wasn't enough. Not even close.
But thirty minutes later, the doors opened again.
And Patch fought again.
Though 'fought' was probably too generous a word.
It was more like being crushed.
The enemy that stepped out this time wasn't just strong.
It was something else.
At first glance, it looked almost human.
Almost.
But the skin was pale, stretched too tight across spindly muscle.
Its limbs were wrong—too long, fingers swollen into clumsy, blunt claws.
Its hunched back made it loom awkwardly, towering over Patch.
Worst of all was its face.
A wide, lipless mouth locked in a permanent, slack grin.
Empty marble eyes staring through him like he wasn't even there.
'A titan...' Patch thought numbly. 'A small one. Tiny compared to real ones... but that's definitely a titan.'
It stumbled forward, slow and clumsy-looking—
But Patch wasn't fooled.
Every step shook the ground.
Every movement, even awkward, had deadly weight behind it.
Patch tried to stand tall, his broken body swaying.
He adjusted his gauntlet on his good arm, fingers trembling.
'One shot,' he thought. 'That's all I've got left.'
When the titan lunged, Patch didn't hesitate.
He ducked low, charging like a wild animal, aiming for the legs.
If he could cripple it, maybe he could win.
His fist slammed into its knee with everything he had left.
It staggered—barely.
Patch tried to follow up, tried to press—
But his vision swam.
His body didn't respond.
The titan recovered faster.
It bent down with horrifying speed and grabbed him by the waist.
Patch punched, kicked, struggled—but it was over.
His strength was gone.
The titan lifted him like he weighed nothing at all.
Patch had just enough time to grit his teeth.
Then it bit down.
The crunch of bone echoed across the arena.
A white-hot lance of agony tore through him—
And then, nothing.
Just blackness.
His final thought was strangely calm.
'At least I made it farther than I should have.'
Then the world ended.
[SYSTEM ALERT]
Form Evaluation: Complete.
Data Collected.
Analyzing optimal form based on performance...
Suitability: Confirmed.
Bestowed Form: [Titan State] — Core Access Unlocked.
Initiating Awakening Protocol...
Patch's consciousness drifted in endless black.
Time didn't exist here.
Or maybe it did, and he just wasn't aware of it.
'I'm alive?' Patch thought hazily.
'Guess that answers the question.
Die in the arena, you get reset. Die in the real world?
...Maybe not so lucky.'
He floated for what felt like forever.
Or maybe just a blink.
Eventually, something pulsed in front of him.
[System Alert]
Form Unlocks:
1. Steelguard Mode
Base form: Hardens skin like steel, increases endurance massively.
2. Feral Surge
Base form: Boosts speed and reflexes dramatically, movements become feral and instinctive.
3. Warlord Mantle
Base form: Summons ethereal arms or afterimages for multi-strike combat.
4. Titan State
Base form: Physical transformation. Massive muscle expansion, regenerative factor unlocked, monstrous form.
'The enemies were the forms,' Patch realized.
'Since I beat the first three, I get the fourth. The real one.'
He grinned weakly in the void.
'Guess I'm a titan now.'
He thought again.
'Status.'
[SYSTEM STATUS]
Name: Patch
Current Health: Unavailable
Unlocked Forms:
Titan State (3 meter)
[Form Mastery: Lvl 1 — 0%
'Just like I thought. Three meters. Small fry.'
He focused again.
'Form details.'
[FORM DETAILS: Titan State – 3 Meter Variant]
Description:
Partial transformation into a 3-meter-class Titan. Body mass increases dramatically, muscles reinforced beyond human limits. Healing factor awakened.
Enhancements:
- Massive boost to physical strength
- Sharpened reflexes and durability
- Accelerated healing of wounds
- Slight intimidation against lower-tier enemies
Limitations:
- Regeneration drains stamina quickly
- Form collapses under excessive damage or exhaustion
Notes:
- Full mental control retained
- Form time linked to [Mastery Level]
- [Mastery] increases through kills, missions, and prolonged form use
Patch closed his eyes.
A new power burned in his blood.
A new life waiting to be carved out with his fists.
And he was ready.
Or at least...
He would be.
