The tank golem didn't stay down for long.

Stone groaned as it shifted, massive fingers digging into the floor. Cracks still crawled across its torso, a witness of Jay's ingenuity.

Ryn stared.

For a heartbeat, he'd been sure that the construct was finished.

"…So much for that," Jay muttered.

Ryn didn't move. He didn't even raise Snow.

He just watched the golem push itself upright, shield coming back into position like nothing had happened.

Then he turned his head slightly. "Jay."

Jay flinched. "Y-Yeah?"

"How did you do that?" Ryn asked. "The pot."

Jay blinked. "Uh. I threw it?"

Ryn shot him a look.

Jay swallowed and spoke quickly, eyes flicking between the advancing constructs.

"It's a byproduct," he said. "Mandrake root."

Ryn's brow furrowed slightly.

"The stuff people throw away after extracting the juice," Jay continued. "You know how mandrakes scream when you pull them out of the ground?"

"Unfortunately," Ryn muttered.

Jay nodded. "That scream isn't sound. Not really. It's vibration. Shock that gets trapped in the fibers of the root."

The tank took another step forward.

Jay rushed on. "Most people just throw it out. But I learned three days ago that it could be trapped."

He tapped his pouch.

"When the pot breaks, it releases all of it at once."

Ryn glanced back at him.

Just for a second.

"…Good thinking," he said. "Seriously."

Jay blinked, clearly not expecting it. "Oh. Uh—thanks."

The tank golem took another step forward, stone grinding loudly. Ryn turned back toward the fight, Snow settling into his grip.

With Jay's help, Ryn learned a valuable lesson.

Vibration.

The thought settled heavily in his chest.

…Of course.

This wasn't new. Not really.

High-level swordsmen didn't rely on edges alone. Anyone could cut. But against things that couldn't be…sharpness stopped being the answer.

Ryn remembered watching his father train. The strikes themselves had looked simple, almost plain. But the moment his blade struck the dummy, it exploded—as if tearing itself apart from the inside.

And Rora…

Ryn's jaw tightened.

In his past life, Rora had used it constantly. Like it was child's play.

It wasn't the blade doing the work.

It was the Essence.

Rora never let it flow freely. He held it, compressed it into his blade and the strike itself—until the very last instant. Then, at the moment of impact, he released everything at once.

An Essence Burst.

But knowing what to do wasn't the same as being able to do it.

Ryn could feel the Essence stirring as he adjusted his grip on Snow.

He had to hold it in his arms.

Releasing it early caused it to dissipate, while doing it too late caused it to rebound.

He'd seen it happen before. Swordsmen tearing muscles apart, shattering their own bones. Arms ruined because the force had nowhere to go but back.

Ryn inhaled slowly, steadying his breathing as the golems closed in.

He had to risk it.

Ryn knew it the moment he shifted his stance. If he waited, the mage would barrage him with spells. If he rushed in blindly, the tank would flatten him.

So he ran, toward them.

The moment he moved, the mage reacted. Staff lifting as magic accumulated overhead.

Suddenly, bolts of lightning rained down from above, slamming into the floor right around him. Ryn veered left, boots skidding as a bolt barely grazed his back.

[HP: 70/150]

Another bolt followed. Then another.

The mage was casting nonstop, but Ryn didn't slow.

He weaved through the bombardment, cutting angles, forcing the mage to keep adjusting its aim. Each cast came a fraction later than the last.

The tank advanced to intercept, mace risen, preparing for a deadly attack.

Ryn sprinted straight at it.

The golem swung.

He slid under the arc at the last second, feeling the shockwave ripple over his head as the mace pulverized the stone behind him. He twisted through the opening, shoulder brushing past the golem's frame.

And there—

He saw it.

A fracture running deep along the tank's torso, thanks to Jay's antics.

Ryn forced the Essence to coil, compressing it tight as he drove forward. His arm screamed in protest as pressure built, threatening to spill out too early.

Hold it.

The mage lifted its staff, then stopped. It hesitated. Ryn was too close to the tank for it to cast.

The timing was perfect.

For a heartbeat, the world narrowed.

Ryn shut everything else out. The grind of stone, the roar of spells, and even the pain screaming up his arm.

Essence had always been his identity.

The proof that he existed.

He'd let it drift. Let it answer him. Never truly given it purpose.

Now, with pressure coiling through his arm, Ryn understood the difference.

Essence wasn't something the world decided for him.

It had always been his to command.

Ryn tightened his grip. For the first time, he wasn't following his Essence.

He was leading it.

The energy gathered along his arm, tension winding tighter and tighter—like a bowstring drawn to its limit, waiting to be released.

Ryn opened his eyes, and his Essence answered…like it was agreeing to his resolve.

He drove Snow straight into the fracture running through the tank golem's body and released everything he'd been holding back.

"BURST!"

The Essence detonated. Combined with Ryn's cold affinity, the effect was instant.

A sound like a glacier calving thundered through the chamber as cold detonated from the point of impact. A violent, penetrating chill surged through the stone itself.

Ice raced along the cracks. Erupting from the inside as icy spikes emerged from stone.

The fractures flashed white-blue as the trapped cold expanded inside the golem's core, until…

BOOM!

The tank golem shattered.

Thousands of stone fragments tore through the arena as its body collapsed from within, pieces blasting outward in every direction.

Ryn barely managed to raise his arm in time, bracing against the storm of debris. Stone slammed into him, rattling his bones.

[HP: 42/150]

His other arm, the one holding Snow, went completely numb.

Ryn exhaled in relief—it had worked. His arm was numb, barely responsive, but not broken.

Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw it.

The fight wasn't over, not by a long shot. The mage golem had its staff pointed straight at him.

Pressure and the weight of the spell compressing reality tore into Ryn's subconscious.

Shit.

There was nowhere left to go.

Ryn reacted on instinct alone.

"Aquila—!"

The spell released. Ryn could see the arcs of lightning in real time as the world slowed.

The last fragment of power tore free in a violent surge, wrenching his body sideways just as the spell detonated.

Ryn hit the ground hard, rolling across stone as the shockwave slammed into him from behind. The world tilted violently as his legs gave out beneath him.

Snow slipped from his numb fingers and clattered uselessly against the stone.

Cold flooded his limbs as his vision tunneled, black creeping in from the edges. His heartbeat felt distant, uneven, like it wasn't quite sure it still belonged to him.

[MP: 0/110]

MP Exhaustion.

He recognized it instantly.

Jay dragged himself closer, panic cutting through his voice. "Hey—hey, stay with me, okay? You're—you're not allowed to pass out now."

Ryn wanted to reassure him.

Wanted to say he was fine.

But all he could do was stare at the ceiling, chest rising and falling in shallow, uneven gasps.

Ryn forced his eyes to stay open as he collapsed onto his side. The mage golem was still there, staff lifting once more as fire coalesced at its tip.

So this was how it ended.

Then—

Movement.

Through the haze, Ryn saw a figure sprint past him.

Jay.

His backpack bounced wildly with every step, straps half-loose as he ran straight toward the mage golem like a madman. Ryn tried to shout. Tried to warn him.

His throat wouldn't work.

Jay skidded to a stop beneath the towering construct, already digging into his bag with shaking hands.

One pot, and then another, then a third.

Ryn's vision blurred, edges darkening as Jay slammed all three directly into the spiderwebbed cracks running up the mage's body.

"PLEASE WORK," Jay yelled, voice cracking. "PLEASE—!"

The mage golem started to pull back.

Too late.

The pots detonated.

The concussive force collapsed inward all at once. Ryn felt it even through the floor. The mage collapsed instantly, as the inward force turned outward.

Then burst.

The blast hurled Jay backward, his body lifting off the ground before slamming hard into the far wall.

Ryn watched it all like it was happening underwater.

Slow, muted…distant.

Silence followed.

Ryn's vision finally gave out.

But the last thing he saw, burned into his fading awareness, was Jay lying there, unmoving…

Then he coughed.

"…Ow."

Ryn smiled faintly. Only a single thought lingered in his head.

"I was right…about him...after all."

The world faded into black

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