The registration golem took a heavy, grinding step forward. Then another. Its red, optical sensors were locked onto me, devoid of any emotion, analyzing me as a target to be assessed. The massive hammer it carried scraped against the sandy floor, leaving a shallow trench in its wake. This wasn't a monster driven by rage or instinct. It was a machine built for a single, overwhelming purpose: to test, to measure, and to crush anything that fell short.
My hands were steady on the grips of my maguns. The initial shock had faded, replaced by the familiar, focused calm that came before a fight. My mind raced, cataloging the enemy. Heavy armor, likely resistant to most physical and low-level energy attacks. A tower shield for defense. A slow but devastatingly powerful primary weapon. It was a classic tank, a boss archetype I had faced a hundred times in Eternal SoulS.
But this wasn't Eternal SoulS. And this wasn't a game. The hammering of my own heart in my chest was proof enough of that.
My first instinct, a primal urge born from the life-or-death battle in the wasteland, was to reach for the power of the lineage orb. I could feel its faint warmth in my pocket, a quiet promise of chaotic, overwhelming force. I could probably shatter the ground beneath the golem, just as I had done to break Valerius's stance. It would be an effective, and likely very quick, solution.
But I stopped myself.
What am I trying to prove here?
The question rose, unbidden, from the deepest part of my mind. Am I just the lucky glitch who stumbled upon a cursed, powerful item? Is my entire worth in this city, my entire identity, tied to that single orb? If I relied on it now, the rank I received wouldn't be mine. It would belong to the orb. It would be a measure of the dead High Orc's lingering power, not Kael's.
I looked up at Gideon, his imposing figure standing in silent judgment. I thought of the Builder, who had tested my ingenuity, not just my raw power. I thought of Fen, whose strength was in his steady hands, and Valerius, whose power was his perfect discipline. None of them relied on a borrowed crutch.
No. Not this time. This was my registration. My assessment. I needed to know what my rank was, based on my own skills. Based on the weapons in my hands and the knowledge in my head. I needed to defeat this thing my way.
With a final, silent resolve, I pushed the presence of the orb to the back of my mind. This fight would be won by me, and me alone.
"Alright, tin can," I muttered, raising my maguns. "Let's see what you've got."
I started with a volley of standard mana shots, peppering its shield and chest. Just as I expected, the bolts of blue energy dissipated harmlessly against the black iron, leaving not so much as a scorch mark. The golem didn't even flinch. It just kept advancing, its heavy footsteps a rhythmic, intimidating drumbeat.
It swung its hammer in a wide, horizontal arc. I was already moving, diving into a roll as the massive weapon scythed through the air where I had been standing. The sheer force of the swing stirred up a cloud of sand. It was slow, but the power behind it was immense. Getting hit by that, even once, was not an option.
Coming out of the roll, I fired again, this time aiming for the joints in its knees and elbows. My shots were more precise, but they still glanced off the thick plating with a series of metallic pings. Its defenses were nearly perfect.
"You need to get around the shield, Kael!" Erina's voice shouted from the stands.
"Thanks for the tip!" I yelled back, already circling to the golem's left, trying to get a clear line of sight on its unshielded side.
The golem responded with surprising agility for its size. It pivoted, keeping its tower shield squarely between us. It was like a revolving fortress wall, its programming perfectly tracking my movements to deny me any advantage.
This wasn't working. It was time to switch tactics.
"Enchant: Fire!" I commanded, pouring a steady stream of mana into my right magun. It flared with crimson light. I didn't aim for the golem itself, but for the ground in front of it. The resulting explosion of flame washed over its legs and shield. The black iron glowed orange for a moment, but the golem merely stomped through the fire, completely unfazed. High heat resistance. Of course.
Fine. Plan B. "Enchant: Lightning!"
My left magun crackled with brilliant yellow energy. Lightning was faster, more precise, and better at finding its way into small gaps. I fired a series of sharp, stinging bolts, targeting the small gaps in the armor around its shoulder and neck.
This time, I got a reaction. One of the bolts struck a bundle of exposed red cables at the base of its neck. The golem jerked, its movements stuttering for a fraction of a second as the electricity coursed through its systems. A small puff of smoke escaped from the point of impact.
A weak point. Finally.
But the golem had its own response. Its optical sensors flashed brightly. It lowered its shoulder and charged, the tower shield leading the way like the prow of a battleship. It was much faster than I expected, the ground trembling under its advance.
I didn't have time to dodge. I crossed my maguns in front of me in a desperate block. The impact was like being hit by a freight train. I was thrown backward, skidding through the sand, my arms screaming in protest. A jagged red line appeared on my HUD, my 'health'—a concept I still wasn't entirely comfortable with—dropping by a solid 15%.
I scrambled back to my feet, my ears ringing. That was a warning. It wasn't just a defensive wall; it was a battering ram.
The golem raised its hammer high above its head, preparing for a devastating overhead slam. Its entire chest cavity glowed with a bright red light as it channeled energy for the attack. In that moment, I saw it. The central power core, exposed and vulnerable as its chest plates shifted to vent heat.
That was my chance. The ultimate high-risk, high-reward opening.
I had to be faster. I poured more mana into my maguns, the lightning enchantment crackling so fiercely that the air around them smelled of ozone. I didn't run. I charged forward, directly at the mechanical behemoth.
"What is he doing?!" I heard Miyuri exclaim from the stands.
The golem's hammer came crashing down. I could feel the air pressure change, the immense weight displacing the very atmosphere. At the last possible second, I dropped into a slide, sand flying around me. The hammer slammed into the ground right behind me, the impact sending a shockwave that rattled my teeth and cracked the very earth.
But I was inside its guard. I was right in front of it, looking directly at the glowing, exposed core. I didn't have time to aim a big Mana Shot. I needed precision. I needed power. Now.
I brought both my maguns up, their tips just inches from the core. I channeled every bit of focused energy I had left into them, the lightning enchantment coalescing into two points of blinding white light.
"Overload!" I roared, pulling both triggers simultaneously.
It wasn't a bolt of lightning. It was a direct, concentrated injection of pure, chaotic energy. The resulting explosion was deafening. The golem's entire body seized up, arcs of white lightning erupting from every joint. Its red optical sensors flickered, then went dark. The glow from its core sputtered and died.
With a final, shuddering groan of tortured metal, the massive black iron automaton slumped forward, its hammer crashing uselessly to the sand. It came to a rest on its knees, its head bowed, inert and defeated.
Silence descended upon the arena, broken only by my own ragged, desperate breaths. My arms trembled from the recoil and the sheer amount of energy I had just expended. My mana bar was flashing a critical red, almost completely empty.
I had done it. It had taken everything I had, every trick I knew, but I had won. And I hadn't touched the orb.
I stood there for a long moment, chest heaving, the victory slowly sinking in. A wave of exhilaration, sharp and pure, washed over me. This feeling… this was mine. Earned with my own two hands.
A smattering of applause broke the silence. I looked up. Miyuri was clapping politely, a look of genuine surprise and respect on her face. Beside her, Erina was on her feet, cheering wildly, her voice echoing in the quiet arena.
"You did it! I knew you could!"
I gave her a weak, exhausted grin. My gaze then shifted to the edge of the arena, to the one observer whose opinion truly mattered.
Chief Gideon stood in the exact same spot, his arms still crossed. He hadn't moved a muscle. He simply watched me, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long, silent moment that stretched my nerves to their breaking point, he gave a single, slow, deliberate nod.
It was the most understated gesture I had ever seen. And it was the greatest praise I could have possibly received.