WHAM.
The wooden fist slammed into his gut.
Air exploded from Viktor's lungs. He doubled over, wheezing, pain radiating through his abdomen. The knight followed up immediately, kicking him square in the chest.
Viktor flew backward, crashing into one of the wooden dolls. Both went down in a tangle of limbs.
"YOUNG LORD!" Elara screamed.
Viktor coughed, rolling to his side. Blood dripped from his lip where he'd bitten his tongue. His chest ached, ribs protesting.
He looked up.
The wooden knight stood over him, sword raised for a finishing blow.
And Viktor started laughing.
It wasn't a polite chuckle or a nervous giggle. It was a full, genuine laugh—the kind that came from realizing something hilariously absurd.
"You absolute 'bastard' System!" Viktor wheezed between laughs, blood staining his teeth red. "You set the target to 'KILL ME'?!"
[Affirmative. Standard training protocol requires realistic threat assessment.]
