Tension grew thick like smog for a silent moment in the room. The intense scent of melted metal, dust, and blood swirled between Adam and the female golem. Sweat trickled down his temple from brows furrowed as much in focus as they were in hesitation.
Could he win?
The question that tore through his mind met many answers. Escape. Return after growing stronger.
His eyes darted to the closed door.
Two brief exchanges almost got him killed twice, while he didn't leave so much as a scratch on her mechanical torso. Her swordplay was better; this was a fact he begrudgingly acknowledged.
Though the most pragmatic choice rang clear, his feet never moved.
Another isolated answer blared louder: you'll lose whatever legacy she guards if you leave.
His features twisted in reluctance. The first piece to create his ultimate mana gathering technique couldn't be lost. That golem must have a weakness. He just had to survive long enough to discover it.
