Death number one hundred and ninety-four came exactly three seconds after the fight started. The Guardian's sword moved faster than anything that large had any right to move, and Rick barely had time to think "oh shit" before the blade cut him cleanly in half.
He respawned outside the golden door, his body reconstructing itself in that familiar uncomfortable way that he'd never quite gotten used to. A new card materialized in his hand, and he checked it with the weary resignation of someone who'd been through this process one hundred and ninety-three times before.
"Bisection Blues," he read aloud. "Rare card. Effect: Summons a spectral blade that can cut through magical barriers. Well, at least it's useful."
"You lasted three seconds," Ace said helpfully. "That might be a new record for shortest boss fight."
"Shut up."
Rick pushed open the golden door again. The Guardian was back on its throne, sitting in the exact same position as before. The massive figure tilted its helmet slightly, and Rick could swear it was amused.
"Back already? I thought you might take a moment to reconsider your life choices."
"I've died to a banana peel," Rick said, walking back into the chamber. "My life choices stopped making sense a long time ago."
This time, Rick was ready. The moment the Guardian stood up, he threw a combination of Ice Card and Lightning Card, trying to freeze the boss in place and then electrocute it. The Guardian simply walked through the ice like it wasn't there, the lightning crackling harmlessly off its armor.
"Interesting strategy," the Guardian said, and then its sword was there again, this time taking Rick's head off with a single swing.
...
...
Death one hundred and ninety-five. Rick respawned, checked his new card (Decapitation Special, which let him summon flying guillotine blades), and walked back through the door.
"Three point five seconds that time," Ace announced. "You're improving."
"I hate you."
The pattern repeated itself seventeen more times. Rick tried fire, poison, acid, explosions, and various combinations thereof.
He tried attacking from a distance, from up close, from the sides, and once from directly above after using a card that gave him temporary flight. Nothing worked. The Guardian's armor was apparently immune to everything, and its sword was fast enough to kill Rick before he could mount any real offense.
By death two hundred and twelve, Rick was starting to get frustrated. He sat outside the golden door, his back against the wall, and seriously considered just giving up.
"This is impossible," he said. "The thing is immune to everything. How am I supposed to beat it?"
"You're thinking about this wrong," Ace said, floating down to eye level. "You've been treating this like every other fight. Die a bunch, learn the pattern, find the weakness. But what if there is no weakness?"
"That's not helpful."
"What I mean is, maybe you can't beat it with power. Maybe you need to beat it with strategy."
Rick looked at the talking card, then at the golden door, then at Coralia, who was still patiently holding the tentacle-wrapped Fortuna like a very fashionable backpack.
"Strategy," Rick repeated slowly. "Like what?"
"I don't know. I'm a card, not a tactical genius. But you have one hundred and twelve cards now. Surely there's some combination you haven't tried yet."
"Oh wow, thanks for that, asshole."
Rick pulled out his entire collection, spreading the cards on the marble floor in front of him. One hundred and twelve cards, each one earned through a different death, each one with its own unique effect.
He'd been using the same basic combos for the past twenty floors because they worked, but maybe Ace was right. Maybe he needed to think outside the box.
His eyes landed on a card he'd gotten from Floor Seven, the puzzle room with the spike ceiling. "Reversal of Fortune," he read. "Rare card. Effect: For ten seconds, all damage dealt to you is reflected back at the attacker at double strength."
"That could work," Ace said, suddenly interested. "But you'd need perfect timing. If you use it too early or too late, you're dead again."
"I'm dead anyway if I don't try something different."
Rick also grabbed his Bisection Blues card, the one he'd just earned. If the Guardian's armor was immune to physical and magical damage, maybe a spectral blade designed to cut through magical barriers would work. It was a long shot, but at this point, Rick was willing to try anything.
He walked back through the golden door for the nineteenth time. The Guardian looked up from its throne, and Rick could have sworn the massive figure sighed.
"You're persistent, I'll give you that. Most challengers give up after the tenth death."
"Yeah, well, I'm an idiot," Rick said. "It's kind of my thing."
The Guardian stood up, sword materializing in its hand. Rick watched carefully, counting the seconds. Three seconds from standing to first attack. That was the pattern. He just needed to time it perfectly.
The Guardian charged forward, sword raised high. Rick waited, his hand hovering over the Reversal of Fortune card. Two seconds. One second. Now.
He activated the card just as the Guardian's sword came down. The blade hit him square in the chest, and for a moment, Rick felt the familiar sensation of dying. But then the card's effect kicked in, and something incredible happened.
The damage reversed. The force of the Guardian's own attack, doubled in strength, slammed back into the armored figure. There was a sound like a gong being struck, and the Guardian staggered backward, a visible crack appearing in its breastplate.
"What?" The Guardian's voice had lost its confident tone. "That's not possible. My armor is blessed by the God of Trials himself!"
"Yeah, well, your god is an asshole," Rick said, grinning despite the pain. He could feel the Reversal card's effect fading, his body starting to break apart from the damage it had taken. But he had maybe two seconds left, and he was going to use them.
He threw the Bisection Blues card with every bit of mana he could channel into it. The spectral blade materialized, glowing with purple light, and shot straight toward the crack in the Guardian's armor.
The blade hit true, and the crack expanded, spreading across the breastplate like a spiderweb. Then Rick died, death number two hundred and thirteen, but this time he died with a smile on his face because he'd finally figured out how to hurt the damn thing.
He respawned outside the golden door, immediately checked his new card (Guardian's Grudge, which increased damage against armored enemies), and looked at Ace with newfound determination.
"I know how to beat it now."
"About time," Ace said. "Only took you two hundred and thirteen deaths."
"Better late than never."
Coralia approached, her purple eyes wide with concern. "Master Rick, are you certain? You look very tired."
"I'm always tired. It's fine." Rick stood up, rolling his shoulders. "Okay, here's the plan. I use Reversal of Fortune to crack the armor, then I hit it with every armor-piercing card I have while the effect is active."
"If I time it right, I might actually survive long enough to do some real damage."
"And if you don't time it right?" Ace asked.
"Then I die again and try a different approach. It's not like death is permanent for me."
"Your optimism is disturbing."
"That's the spirit." Rick pushed open the golden door one more time, his collection of cards ready, his strategy finally formed. The Guardian looked up from its throne, and this time there was definitely caution in its posture.
"You've learned something," the Guardian said. "Good. Perhaps this will be interesting after all."
"Let's find out," Rick said, and charged forward into what would either be his greatest victory or just another in a very long list of deaths. At this point, he was fine with either outcome.