Attempt #1,033
"Aaaaaaa!" Swish. Thunk.
Attempt #2,305
I land, brace myself—and the blade's there, waiting, slicing cleanly across my neck before I can even blink.
Attempt #4,509
At this point, I don't even scream. My body hits the ground. My head rolls. Again.
Attempt #10,032
Okay, let's try from the ceiling this time. I activate [Flight], hovering low and trying to stick to the shadowed corners. Just as I pass him, my neck tingles, and in one instant, I see his blade gleaming, slicing upward—perfect precision.
When my head strikes the floor, it spins around like a beyblade. I'm back where I started.
"Even from above? How on earth am I going to pass this?"
Attempt #15,600
The frustration's beginning to fry my nerves. I've tried speed. I've tried stealth. I've tried layers and layers of protective spells. But no matter what angle I come from, no matter how fast, quiet, or deadly my attempts, Ashkart's there. He's faster. He's merciless. And he's very, very good at killing me.
"Maybe… just one more time?" I say to myself, my voice wavering as I turn back to him. I'm running on sheer spite now. My grip on my sanity feels like a thread being worn down to its last fiber.
I mean even Sans wasn't this difficult.
Attempt #24,073
Each time, I try some new approach. Each time, I fail. I'm sure I've lost a few crucial brain cells by now; if anything, the reality of failure is setting in like a bleak shadow that no amount of divine favor can shake.
"Why won't you just let me pass, you oversized myth with a god complex!" I scream, knowing he won't answer. Because he's a ghost. Or a guard. Or whatever a silent, immortal swordsman becomes when he's been left in a palace corridor for a thousand years.
But he doesn't flinch. He just waits, expression frozen in cold determination.
Attempt #42,910
This time, I cast a dozen [Barrier] spells and coat myself in [Holy Aura], even though I know it's probably useless. I'll keep every conceivable protection in place. I'll turn myself into an impenetrable, glowing fortress. And yet…
Swish.
I'm reset before I can even register that my head's off again.
After about… what must be… Attempt #100,000, I'm lying flat on my back on the floor, staring up at the ceiling. My mind is a blank. The attempts have blurred together. I feel numb.
There's no feeling anymore in dying. No jolt, no shock. It's just me and this cold hallway, this endless cycle of death and return. I'd scream, but what's the point? It would only echo back, unanswered.
Then it hits me. I've been so focused on trying to pass Ashkart that I never stopped to wonder… is there another way? Could there possibly be…?
I drag myself up, blinking slowly as a strange, wild thought hits me
Attempt #100,152
This time, I don't focus on sneaking past him or bypassing the barrier. I stand right in front of Ashkart, hand outstretched, every nerve attuned to him.
I chant every [Fireball], [Thunderstrike], and [Ice Spear] I know, throwing them at him in rapid succession. It's a barrage of magic, enough to take down an army, each spell perfectly cast.
The Hero, meanwhile, doesn't even bat an eye. He breaks through the magic as if it were nothing, and the blasts dissipate as soon as they come into touch.
Swish. Dead again.
I've thrown everything at him—dozens of [Lightning Chains], [Void Arrows], [Flames of Purgatory]. The whole arsenal.
My skill level is basically legendary at this point. My proficiency has hit a level that rivals the archmages in Josephine's world. I can feel it. Each spell is sharper, deadlier, its precision honed to deadly accuracy.
But nothing lands. Not a single spell manages to pierce through him.
Ashkart remains unscathed, not even phased. A few glancing fireballs singe his armor, but he's… unaffected.
Swish.
Attempt #150,295
By now, I'm casting spells in combinations I didn't even know I could pull off.
[Wind Storm] combined with [Meteor Fall]. A [Holy Flare] to top it off. I've basically unleashed a nuke at this point.
But he's there, waiting, cutting through each wave of magic like it's butter. He's like a flawless machine, designed to neutralize anything and everything I throw at him.
And then… it dawns on me. If magic isn't working, if my spells—despite my archmage-level proficiency—are useless, then maybe… maybe there's only one option left.
My voice is barely a scream as I piece it all together.
"You want me to kill you," I say, staring at him.
"Isn't that the only path through?"
He doesn't respond, but I can see that my observation about his silence is accurate. The answer was in front of me the entire time. Ashkart isn't simply interested in saving my life. He is coming to defeat me and prove that I can handle a strong opponent like him.
"All right," I answer, growling softly.
Attempt #180,000
I wield my staff differently this time, using it as a physical weapon rather than for casting. As I approach Ashkart, I make myself recall every spell, every move I've made in the previous 100,000 tries, and every death. It has all been leading up to this.
The moment I step into range, he's moving, his sword flashing forward like lightning. But I dodge, narrowly, swinging my staff as I throw a spell close-range, aiming not to slip past him but to overwhelm him.
Ashkart counters, and we're locked in a furious exchange—me, dodging and parrying as I throw every spell, every strike I can manage, as fast as I can.
For the first time, I see a crack in his stance.
Attempt #200,312
We're in sync, his sword clashing against my staff as magic fills the air. I've never been closer, each dodge sharper, each spell faster. And for the first time, I can see it—the tiniest break in his defense.
I swing, pouring every ounce of my energy into it.
And his blade drops, ever so slightly.
My head is off again.