Luca stepped out of the latest gate, blood dripping from his blade. His chest heaved with exhaustion, and the familiar voice of Astravira echoed in his mind.
"You're pushing yourself too hard, Luca," the dragon's voice growled softly. "You're reckless, and you refuse to learn. The last fight could have cost you your life."
Luca ignored the dragon's caution as he leaned against a nearby wall, wiping the sweat from his brow. He had barely survived that last encounter—a pack of beasts known as Void Reapers. They had swarmed him from all sides, their serrated claws sharp enough to slice through stone. Their black carapaces shimmered in the dim light, and their glowing red eyes radiated hunger. Luca had taken down six of them, but not without consequence. His arm throbbed where one of the beasts had managed to tear into his flesh.
His health bar hovered precariously low: 250/1800.
He grimaced. At this rate, he wouldn't last long. He needed supplies. With a quick thought, Luca mentally summoned the Abyssal Chaos System.
"Open Shop."
A translucent menu appeared before him, glowing faintly. The shop interface displayed a list of items ranging from healing potions to powerful, expensive gear. Luca's eyes zeroed in on the healing section.
"Healing Potion (Medium): 500 Gold."
He checked his balance. He had enough.
"Purchase."
The gold deducted instantly from his account, and a small vial materialized in his hand. Without hesitation, Luca uncorked the bottle and downed the bitter liquid in one gulp. His body surged with warmth as the potion took effect. His health bar shot up: 1000/1800.
It wasn't a full recovery, but it would keep him alive.
With a sigh, Luca glanced at the jagged wound on his arm. It would heal soon, thanks to the system, but the toll on his body was becoming noticeable. Astravira's criticism continued to ring in his ears.
"You're fighting like a blind fool," she scolded. "Charging headlong into danger without thinking. If you don't stop, you won't make it to the end of this path you've chosen."
Luca gritted his teeth. "I'm not backing down. I don't care how dangerous it is. I need to keep pushing forward."
Astravira sighed, her voice shifting from irritation to something softer. "It's not just about strength. Power means nothing if you can't wield it properly. You need strategy, skill, precision—not just brute force."
The dragon's advice was sound, but Luca wasn't in the mood to hear it. He had been through hell already, and every battle only made him stronger. But he couldn't deny the truth. The fight with Vanessa had shown him the limits of his power, and each subsequent battle seemed to drive that point home. The higher he climbed, the more dangerous his enemies became.
"How long do you think you can keep up like this?" Astravira pressed. "Every time you leap into a fight without thinking, you risk everything."
Luca pressed a hand to his chest, feeling the steady hum of the Abyssal Chaos System. He had to get stronger—he had no other choice.
"Then tell me, Astravira," Luca muttered. "If my fighting style is so reckless, how do I fix it?"
There was a pause before the dragon responded. "Your stance is wrong. Your strikes lack balance. You use raw strength when precision would serve you better." Astravira's voice became instructional, almost like a mentor guiding her pupil. "You're strong, but strength alone won't keep you alive. You need to think—analyze your opponent, find their weakness, and strike where it hurts."
Luca narrowed his eyes, his mind replaying the last battle. He had charged into the fray without considering the environment or the enemies. He'd wasted energy on unnecessary movements. Maybe Astravira had a point.
"Your pride blinds you," the dragon added. "You see powerful enemies and think that defeating them proves your worth, but power alone won't carry you to victory. Sometimes, the smart choice is to retreat. Other times, it's choosing the right moment to strike."
Luca clenched his fists, her words sinking in deeper than he liked to admit. His reckless pursuit of power had been driving him, but he was learning the hard way that brute force wouldn't be enough to face the beings ahead.
Astravira's voice softened. "I'm not trying to hold you back, Luca. I want you to succeed. But you can't succeed if you're dead."
Luca glanced at the bloodied battlefield behind him, the bodies of the Void Reapers scattered across the ground. His knuckles tightened around his weapon, but he felt something shift within him—an understanding.
Maybe Astravira was right. Maybe brute force wasn't enough. If he wanted to surpass the likes of Vanessa, Bagga, and the others, he would need more than just raw strength. He needed to be smarter. Sharper.
"Alright," Luca said, his voice steadier. "Show me what I'm doing wrong."
Astravira let out a quiet huff of satisfaction. "Good. Let's start with your footing. You're too heavy on your right side."
As Luca moved deeper into the gate, the dragon continued to guide him, correcting his stance, critiquing his movements, and slowly, Luca began to feel the difference. Each fight became more deliberate, each strike more calculated.
The monsters he encountered were fierce—a species of Obsidian Gorgons, whose rock-hard skin reflected attacks, and Seraphon Fiends, winged demons with serrated claws and acidic breath. But this time, Luca didn't charge in recklessly. He observed. He planned. And when he struck, it was with deadly precision.
For the first time in a long time, Luca felt in control—not just of the battle, but of himself.
As he emerged from the last wave of enemies, breathing heavily but still standing, Astravira's voice returned. "Much better, Luca. But this is only the beginning."
Luca wiped the blood from his blade, glancing up at the final gate ahead. The boss room.
He could feel the hum of power from within, but he was ready now—more than ever.
"Let's finish this," Luca muttered, stepping forward, the lessons of the dragon echoing in his mind.
He wouldn't fail again.