[Target Identified: Kincaid (The Golden Tyrant)]

[Level: 46]

[Class: Gilded Juggernaut]

[Status: Arrogant / Defensive Specialist]

Kincaid stopped twenty meters away. He looked at Alvian, then threw his head back and laughed. It was a booming, grating sound.

"The Godslayer!" Kincaid roared, spreading his arms. "I heard a child killed a dying avatar and let it go to his head. You want my surrender? You want my gold?"

He slammed the butt of his hammer into the ground.

"BOOM!"

A golden shockwave rippled out, turning the sand around him into glass.

"Come and take it, boy. If you can scratch my paint, I'll give you the keys to the city."

Alvian looked at the golden armor. He analyzed the mana structure. It was dense. Layered. Designed to disperse kinetic energy and reflect magic. To a normal player, he was a wall.

To Alvian, he was a physics problem.

"Challenge accepted," Alvian said.

The courtyard of the Old Fort had been cleared, forming a makeshift arena. Hundreds of Kincaid's mercenaries lined the walls and the balconies, jeering and banging their weapons against their shields. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, greed, and imminent violence.

Alvian stood in the center of the ring, his posture relaxed, almost bored. Beside the entrance, Valeria stood with her arms crossed, her eyes tracking every movement in the crowd. She was tense, her muscles coiled like springs. She trusted Alvian—she had seen him kill a god—but Kincaid's reputation was built on survival. The man had tanked a direct hit from a mana-cannon during the Convergence in the other timeline and walked away laughing.

She caught Alvian's eye. He gave her a subtle nod, a microscopic gesture that meant 'Stay back. Watch.' It calmed her, if only slightly.

"Rules are simple!" Kincaid bellowed, pacing the other side of the ring. His golden armor clanked heavily, each step leaving a deep imprint in the packed earth. "No interference. No crying. You break my defense, you win. I smash your skull, I win."

"Terms acceptable," Alvian replied. He didn't draw his weapon.

Kincaid sneered. "Where is your toothpick, Godslayer? Or are you planning to slap me to death?"

"I'm deciding which tool to use to open the can," Alvian said dryly.

"Insolent brat!"

Kincaid charged.

For a man wearing half a ton of gold, he was shockingly fast. He activated a skill, [Gilded Charge], turning himself into a living battering ram. The ground shook.

Alvian didn't move until the last second. He utilized his 184 Speed stat, side-stepping the charge with a fluid grace that left an afterimage behind.

"WHOOSH!"

Kincaid rushed past, his momentum carrying him forward. But he was experienced. He planted his foot, pivoting with unnatural speed, and swung his massive warhammer in a wide, horizontal arc.

"GOLDEN OBLITERATION!"

The hammer glowed with yellow mana. Alvian raised his left hand. He didn't use a skill. He just used his raw stats.

[Strength: 270 (Genesis Mode Passive Retention)]

"CLANG!"

The sound was deafening. Alvian caught the handle of the warhammer with one hand. The ground beneath his feet spiderwebbed, sinking a foot, but Alvian didn't budge.

The mercenaries in the crowd went silent. Their boss, who could smash through city walls, had just been stopped one-handed by a teenager in a robe.

Kincaid's eyes bulged. "What?"

"Strong," Alvian admitted, his voice calm. "But inefficient. You rely too much on momentum."

Alvian released the hammer and delivered a snap kick to Kincaid's chest.

"BANG!"

Kincaid skid backward ten meters, his boots tearing up the ground. He looked down at his chest plate. There was a scuff mark. But no dent.

"Ha!" Kincaid laughed, regaining his composure. "See? Indestructible! This armor is [Aurum-Adamantite] alloy! It absorbs 90% of all kinetic force! You can't hurt me!"

Alvian narrowed his eyes. Kinetic absorption. That explained why he survived the mana-cannon. Blunt force just spread out across the surface.

"System. Equip [Lance of the Void Winter]."

The black spear materialized in his hand, the air around it growing cold.

"Let's try piercing," Alvian muttered.

He vanished. [Shadow Step].

He reappeared behind Kincaid, driving the spear tip directly into the gap behind the knee.

"TING!"

A spark flared. The spear tip bounced off. Even the joints were reinforced with flexible mesh.

[System Message: Attack Deflected. Damage Nullified.]

Kincaid spun around, backhanding Alvian with a gauntleted fist. Alvian blocked with the shaft of his lance, but the force sent him sliding back.

"Useless!" Kincaid roared. "Magic? I have 80% resistance! Physical? Absorbed! I am the Golden God of this wasteland!"

Valeria stepped forward, her hand gripping her claymore. "Alvian! He's using an Earth-attribute reinforcement! His mana is constantly repairing the armor's micro-fractures!"

"I noticed," Alvian called back. He wasn't worried. He was analyzing.

He dodged another hammer swing. He weaved through a [Golden Shockwave]. He was testing the limits of the armor. It wasn't just hard; it was malleable. When he hit it, the gold deformed slightly to absorb the blow, then snapped back instantly. It was like hitting non-Newtonian fluid made of metal.

"So," Alvian whispered to himself, dodging a stomp that shattered the earth. "It relies on flexibility to absorb force. It needs to move to work."

Kincaid was panting slightly, frustrated by his inability to land a clean hit on the slippery mage. "Stop running! Stand and fight like a man!"

Alvian stopped. He sheathed his lance. He stood in the center of the arena, his arms hanging loose.

"Running?" Alvian asked. "I was just gathering data."

"Data?" Kincaid spat. "Data doesn't stop a hammer!"

He raised his weapon high. The head of the hammer began to glow with blinding intensity. This was his ultimate move. [Midas Crush]. A gravity-enhanced strike meant to flatten fortresses.

"DIE!"

Kincaid leaped into the air.

Valeria shouted, "Alvian! Move!"

Alvian looked up at the descending golden meteor. A cold, ruthless smile touched his lips.

"Physics Lesson Number Two," Alvian whispered, mana beginning to pool in his palms. "Ductility depends on temperature."

He didn't dodge. He didn't block. He raised both hands towards the falling warlord.

"System. Maximize [Frost Heart]. Output: Focused Beam."

The air in the courtyard screamed as the temperature plummeted.

"Absolute Zero."

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