Return #116 dawned with a heavy silence. The village was eerily calm, as if the air itself knew the storm approaching.
Evan Thorn stood atop the western hill, surveying the landscape. From this vantage, he could see the fields, the river, and the small stone bridge leading to the northern road—the path the enemy would take.
He breathed deeply, letting the crisp morning air fill his lungs.
Today would be the day.
THE TENSION BEFORE CHAOSThe villagers moved with a nervous energy. Women carried children inside, while men armed themselves with pitchforks, swords, and anything sharp they could find. Horses whinnied nervously, sensing the tension.
Evan's eyes scanned the horizon. In the distance, a plume of dark smoke rose—the first sign of the corrupted knight's army. Not just one soldier. Not just a small band. A full battalion. Twisting armor, glinting weapons, and the unmistakable sense of dread radiating from their advance.
He felt it in his gut. The corrupted knight led them personally.
A shiver ran down his spine—not of fear, but of anticipation.
Roran approached, face stern. "Evan. Stay with me. I'll place you at the frontline, where you can make a difference."
Evan shook his head. "I've survived too long by observing. This time… I need to fight, Roran. Let me test what I've learned."
Roran's eyes flickered with concern. "You've trained, yes. But you've also survived too many returns. Overconfidence can kill you faster than any knight."
Evan met his gaze. "Then I'll fight carefully. But I won't stand behind walls while others die."
Roran studied him. Then nodded reluctantly. "Very well. Just… watch your back. And your front."
THE FIRST WAVESThe enemy approached. The first wave of soldiers was lightly armored, poorly disciplined. They charged with shouts, axes raised. Evan tightened his grip on his sword.
He waited.
Then, instinctively, he moved.
[Survival Instinct (F)] flared. His body shifted, dodged, parried. Every strike, every swing, every thrust seemed slower for him and faster for the enemy. He danced through the attackers, countering blows before they could land.
The villagers were shocked. Whispers rippled through the ranks: "It's him… he moves like a shadow…"
Evan didn't have time to respond. More soldiers poured through the fields, and he realized this was no ordinary battle.
THE FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE KNIGHTThen, at the edge of the battlefield, he saw him.
The corrupted knight.
Evan's breath caught. The black-and-red armor shimmered like molten metal. His sword glowed with a dark, unnatural energy. The corrupted knight moved with terrifying precision, cutting through the enemy ranks as if they were nothing more than straw.
Evan's heart raced—but his mind was calm.
He recalled every return. Every death. Every failure. Every lesson.
Adaptive Footwork (E).
Survival Instinct (F).
Predictive Reaction (D).
He would need all of them—and more.
The knight's eyes, faintly glowing beneath the helm, met Evan's. For a moment, time seemed to stretch. The air thickened.
Then the knight charged.
THE DANCE OF DEATHEvan stepped forward, sword raised.
The knight's first swing was a devastating arc aimed at Evan's shoulder. He dodged with Adaptive Footwork, twisting and rolling, landing behind a fallen cart. Sparks flew as the knight's blade struck the wood.
Evan countered, slashing with measured precision. His blade barely nicked the knight's armor.
The knight laughed—a sound like grinding metal. "So… the little human remembers," he said.
Evan gritted his teeth. "I don't just remember. I survive."
The knight swung again, faster. Evan's Predictive Reaction flared. He stepped into a narrow opening, slipping between attacks. Every movement was a calculation. Every swing a test.
The battlefield around him erupted into chaos, but Evan's focus narrowed to a singular point: the corrupted knight.
He felt it in his bones. He had died a hundred times before, but this time, he could survive.
THE SYSTEM INTERFERESA sudden blue glow shimmered before his eyes.
[SYSTEM NOTIFICATION]Return #116 — Real Combat Detected
Skill Usage: Verified
Warning: Lethal Threats Exceed Threshold
Evan ignored the panel. The System had never been wrong before—but now, it was unnecessary. He trusted his instincts.
A second panel appeared.
[NEW OBJECTIVE UNLOCKED]Defeat the corrupted knight without failing.
Evan scowled. Defeat? Without failing? After everything he had endured?
He clenched his teeth. "Fine. Then I won't fail."
THE GOLDEN-EYED OBSERVER RETURNSFrom the treeline, a flash of gold caught Evan's attention.
Sereth.
Watching. Always watching.
"You're not alone, even if it feels like it," Sereth whispered to themselves, though Evan heard.
Evan nodded silently. "I know."
The presence reminded him that the corrupted knight was not just a physical threat. This was a test. A trial. Perhaps even more dangerous than any previous death he had endured.
THE STRATEGY OF SURVIVALEvan realized something crucial: brute strength alone would not win this battle. Not against the corrupted knight. He had to anticipate, adapt, and exploit openings.
He remembered Sereth's warning: Patience. Observation. Adaptation.
Step one: Observe.
Step two: React.
Step three: Strike at the opportune moment.
The knight swung again. Evan dodged, barely, feeling the wind of the strike brush past his cheek. His body moved automatically, using Survival Instinct and Predictive Reaction in tandem.
Step four: Lure.
He baited the knight toward a narrow area between a toppled wall and a cart. The knight's sword clanged against the debris as Evan twisted out of the way. The knight overcommitted, momentum carrying him past Evan's position.
Step five: Counter.
Evan leapt, rolling over the knight's extended leg, striking at the joint with a calculated swing. Sparks flew. The knight staggered.
It was the first real wound he had inflicted.
THE TIDE TURNSThe knight roared. Not in pain, but in exhilaration. "Interesting…" he said, voice like grinding iron. "The little human learns quickly."
Evan felt a surge of confidence, tempered by the awareness of danger. One mistake, one misstep, and he could die. Not just once. Not just twice. But countless times if the System allowed.
Yet he pressed on. Each swing, each dodge, each step was a dance he had memorized from hundreds of returns.
And for the first time in all the loops, he felt a thrill: not fear. Not panic. Not despair. But power.
THE FINAL MOMENT OF THE CHAPTERAs the sun reached its zenith, Evan and the corrupted knight circled each other.
The battlefield around them was a chaos of smoke, fire, and combat cries. Yet all Evan could hear was his own breathing, his own heartbeat, and the faint whisper of Sereth from the shadows:
Patience. Observation. Adaptation.
Evan adjusted his grip on his sword. Sweat dripped down his face, but his eyes burned with focus.
The knight swung his massive blade in a downward arc. Evan bent backward, letting the edge pass inches above his head. Predictive Reaction activated. Adaptive Footwork saved him from a fatal misstep. Survival Instinct kept his mind sharp.
And then, at the perfect moment, Evan saw an opening—tiny, fleeting, but undeniable.
He gritted his teeth.
This was the moment he had been preparing for.
He would strike.
And the battle would truly begin.