[Do you want to abandon the trial for the throne?]
[Yes / No]
He stared at the flooding words. They swam, split in two, refused to stay still. His breathing was ragged, like his lungs had finally decided this whole situation violated every workplace safety regulation. Every breath burned on the way in.
He wiped at his eyes, trying to clear his vision.
His fingers came back thick. Wet. Red.
He blinked slowly.
'Huh,' he thought. 'Would you look at that.'
'Shiro, just press yes and let's get out of here!' the voice shouted. It was scared—really scared—and underneath it all was regret. The painful kind, as if it had finally realized what kind of situation it had put Shiro in.
He lifted his hand, his fingers drifting toward No.
'Shiro, please… just this once, listen to me. It's okay. Just leave,' the voice begged, trembling, as if it might break—dangerously close to tears.
"But you believed in me. If you didn't think I could do this… you wouldn't have brought me here."
He paused, his eyes slowly drifting toward the headless knight.
The terrifying beast that had broken almost every bone in his body not too long ago was now crawling like an idiot, hands sweeping blindly across the ground as it searched for its missing head.
For some reason, he almost felt bad. Almost. Watching it flail around with its helmet facing the floor was still pretty entertaining.
'Such a menacing beast with such an awful weakness.'
He swiped the flooding text aside and pushed himself up on the throne chair.
"I know I can," he said, his voice tight. "But then I'd be letting you down too."
He noticed his legs were working again. Somehow, they'd healed themselves. About time his body got the memo.
He jumped a few times, making sure they didn't snap again, and to his surprise, the pain was gone—
and it was replaced by something equally shocking.
He felt hot. Not attractive-hot—more like being-cooked-alive hot—to the point that steam rose off him as sweat and blood seemed to sizzle away.
"I don't even know why," he said, laughing breathlessly, "but I don't want to let you down. I don't want the belief you had in me to be a mistake. You're the closest thing I've ever had to a father. A teacher."
His eyes watered—and the tears evaporated as fast as they came.
'Shiro…'
The word trembled. The voice didn't say anything else—not because it didn't want to, but because it couldn't.
'Then you can release the seal now,' it muttered softly.
He smirked. "No need. I want to try something."
He exhaled slowly. Thin streams of smoke slipped between his teeth and out through his nose.
He blurred forward, light on his feet, and scooped up the knight's helm before it even knew he'd moved.
He flashed it a grin, then casually tossed the helm back to it, like he was returning a forgotten hat.
They just… stared at each other for a beat.
They didn't bother with dramatic speeches. They just charged.
They traded nonstop blows. Getting hit by the knight was like getting run over by a freight train—twice—but he didn't slow down.
Weirdly enough, the more he hit it, the better he got. His body felt like it was powering up mid-fight, scrambling to keep pace with the walking metal nightmare.
And being small suddenly wasn't the worst thing either—it made dodging a lot easier.
The metal beast brought its fist down. He knocked it aside, throwing the knight off balance, then snapped a kick up into its head. It didn't budge—and he expected it.
The knight swung with its other arm to swat him away. He braced himself and caught it, mirroring the armored brute from earlier, twisted his body, and slammed the knight into the ground.
He didn't stop there.
He jumped on top of it and unleashed a flurry of punches.
Without any warning, its armor pulsed, unleashing a burst of energy through the plates and blasting him off. He flipped midair, spun, and barely landed on his feet.
The knight closed the distance instantly.
His eyes widened as the metal beast loomed—and then its kick crashed straight into his ribs.
Gritting his teeth, he braced himself, trapped its leg under his arm, and threw a desperate punch with everything he had, just to make some distance.
The knight bounced across the room like someone had drop-kicked a metal trash can.
The metal knight dragged itself back up and checked the giant dent in its side, like it couldn't believe that just happened. Then it started marching straight at him, and all he could do was smirk tiredly.
After that, they fell into a rhythm again.
Trading blows.
Hit for hit.
He blocked the heavy hits with his left arm, letting his right do the damage, driving his fist into the knight again and again.
Pain kept slamming into him in waves, then cutting out, like his nerves had finally decided they were tired of filing complaints.
His vision tunneled until there was only one thing left to focus on—the giant, ugly tin can in front of him. Everything else was just a blur.
With every hit he took, he threw one right back—harder. Hard enough to actually dent its stupid armor. Its helm was knocked sideways, one of the eyes of its visor caved in, and his fists left messy prints all over the metal plates.
And for a brief moment, he was overpowering the beast. Just for a moment.
But the knight wasn't a big fan of the idea of him overpowering it, because it immediately cranked its own speed and power, matching him hit for hit like some competitive maniac.
It didn't feel like a fight to him. It felt more like a test, like something trying to push him as far as possible. Or maybe they just had the same annoying ability—get hurt, get stronger.
If that was the case, he definitely got the bargain-bin version. The metal guy didn't seem to feel a thing. He, on the other hand, felt everything. And he was pretty sure his body wouldn't be able to heal him forever.
Eventually, his body would hit a dead end. Therefore, he wanted to end this as fast as possible.
As the metal giant brought its fist down, he rushed in, closing the distance and reaching for its arm. The plan was simple: grab the arm and rip it off. Then keep going until every limb was gone.
But the moment he grabbed its arm, the limb detached on its own. Before he could process what just happened, the knight's knee drove into his gut, hard, lifting him a few inches off the ground.
"It can learn… and adapt?" he hissed.
His eyes rolled back for less than a second, then snapped forward again.
When his vision returned, the knight's fist was already there, ready to welcome him back.
His instinct took over. He crossed his arms just in time to block. The impact crashed through him, rattling his bones and slamming him back toward the wall.
He twisted his body midair as he was flung toward the wall. Using it, he propelled himself back at the knight like a loaded spring.
His knee crashed into its helm with violent force. The blow snapped the armored giant's head to the side.
Like before, it moved blindly, trying to find its head again.
Well, at least that's what he thought.
He shot toward the beast's sword, trying to seize it—but he felt a chill run down his spine.
He turned just to see the knight loom behind him, headless and somehow even more menacing than before, its arm reaching out.
Shiro tried to dive to the side. But the bastard grabbed him by the face and attempted to slam him into the ground.
But his body reacted on instinct.
He clamped his arms around its arm, wrapped his legs around it, and twisted hard—but like before, the limb tore free, and he was thrown off balance.
He had nothing left.
He knew it wouldn't work—but the small part of him still hoped it might work.
He watched helplessly as the knight drove a devastating kick into his gut, sending him crashing into the ceiling above—
Then straight back down to the ground.
The voice screamed at him to move, but all he managed was to stagger upright. His vision darkened at the edges.
'Please. Don't fail me again. Please.'
He begged his body to move—just once more. It didn't listen. His strength gave out, and he pitched forward, barely registering the hands that caught him before the world went dark.