The thirteen stone knights moved with mechanical precision, their formations as rigid as their programming. Zeph had maybe three seconds to study their approach before the first wave reached him.
He didn't activate Force. Not yet.
Instead, he threw himself into a desperate dance of survival, dodging strikes that could have caved in his skull while cataloging every detail of their combat patterns. Phantom rang against stone as he parried what he couldn't avoid, each impact sending painful vibrations up his arms.
The knights fought like a hive mind; coordinated but inflexible. When the lead knight swung high, the two flanking it automatically moved to cut off his escape routes. When he ducked left, three more were already moving to intercept based on predictable geometric calculations.
'They're not learning,' he realized, rolling under a sword thrust that would have split him in half. 'They're following pre-programmed responses.'
A gauntleted fist caught him in the ribs, launching him across the arena. He hit the stone wall hard enough to crack it, tasting blood as he slumped to the ground. The knights advanced in perfect formation, weapons raised for killing blows.
Zeph spat blood and grinned.
'Time to see how well you adapt to chaos, you mechanical bastards.'
He scrambled to his feet and ran, not away from the knights, but directly toward the closest one. At the last second, he dropped into a slide that took him between its legs, then sprang up behind it.
The knight began its turning sequence, a ponderous rotation that would bring its sword around in approximately 1.2 seconds. Zeph had timed it during the previous exchanges.
He used that window to grab the knight's sword arm and vault over its shoulder, landing on the opposite side just as two other knights' attacks converged on where he'd been standing.
Their blades struck their ally instead of their target.
Stone cracked. Sparks flew. The damaged knight staggered, its coordination protocols stuttering as it tried to process friendly fire.
'Exploit confirmed.'
For the next two minutes, Zeph turned the knights' coordination against them. He used their predictable movement patterns to position them for mutual destruction, their rigid formation protocols to create traffic jams and collision chains.
When Knight A swung left, he knew Knights B and C would move to specific positions. When the formation tried to collapse on his location, he knew exactly which escape routes would be left temporarily unguarded.
But he was paying a price for the intelligence gathering.
A sword pommel caught him in the shoulder, nearly dislocating his arm. A shield bash to his temple left him seeing stars. He absorbed punishment with grim determination, storing up tactical data while his body screamed protests.
By the end of the second minute, he had a complete behavioral map of all thirteen opponents.
And he was bleeding from a dozen wounds.
'Now,' he thought, wiping blood from his split lip. 'Time to remind them why humans dominate this planet.'
He had no idea why he made such a cliche and absolutely irrelevant statement and felt embarrassed for himself. But he didn't bother too much about it.
He finally activated Force!
The change was instantaneous and devastating. Power flooded his system like liquid lightning, doubling his speed, strength, and reaction time. The world around him seemed to slow to a crawl as his enhanced perceptions processed information at superhuman rates.
The knight charging toward him—the big one, the leader—was moving like it was underwater.
Zeph ghosted around its sword thrust, Phantom already in motion. The katana, enhanced by Force energy, carved through stone armor like it was made of clay. The knight's head separated from its shoulders in a spray of crystalline fragments.
Two seconds elapsed. Fifty-eight remaining.
Two knights flanked him from opposite directions, their attacks perfectly timed to arrive simultaneously. In normal circumstances, he would have had to choose which attack to block and which to take.
Instead, he bent backward in an impossible arch that let both swords pass over him, then snapped upright and drove Phantom through the closer knight's chest. A twist and pull removed the blade, and a horizontal slash took the second knight's legs off at the knees.
Three seconds elapsed. Fifty-five remaining.
The remaining knights tried to adjust, their formation protocols attempting to compensate for the sudden change in threat assessment. But their programming couldn't account for an opponent who had just doubled in capability mid-fight.
Zeph didn't give them time to adapt.
He became a whirlwind of surgical destruction, moving through their ranks like a scythe through wheat.
Force-enhanced strikes punched through defenses that had seemed impenetrable moments before. His speed let him hit vital points before the knights could bring their guard up.
Joint connections. Neck articulations. The weak points where armor plates met.
Every strike was calculated for maximum damage. Every movement flowed into the next with deadly efficiency. This wasn't a fight, it was a dismantling.
Fifteen seconds elapsed and only five knights were left. They tried to form a defensive circle, but Zeph had already identified the flaw in that formation.
He leaped over the front line, landed behind the circle, and started cutting his way out from the inside.
Phantom moved like liquid mercury, each swing opening gaps in stone that should have been impervious to conventional weapons. But there was nothing conventional about Force-enhanced strikes delivered with surgical precision.
Five seconds elapsed. Forty remaining.
Two knights left—the damaged one from his earlier sabotage attempts, and one that had been smart enough to stay at the formation's edge during his rampage.
They came at him together, a final coordinated assault that should have overwhelmed even an enhanced opponent.
Zeph stepped between their attacks like he was dancing. His blade took the damaged knight's arm off, then reversed direction to open the other's throat. Both crumbled to stone fragments within heartbeats.
Three seconds elapsed. Thirty seven seconds still remaining!
Force faded from his system like a receding tide, leaving him gasping and shaking from the sudden return to baseline capabilities. But the arena was silent except for the sound of settling rubble.
Thirteen knights. Twenty three seconds. Absolute victory!
[Tutorial Boss Defeated: Knight Squadron]
[+150 EXP]
[+25000 Skill Points!]
[Achievement Unlocked: Overwhelming Force]
[Achievement Unlocked: Tactical Genius]
[Level Up! Level 0 → Level 1]
[+5 Attribute Points Available for Allocation]
The experience settled into his system with surprising gentleness—nothing like the violent power surge he'd expected. His status window flickered, showing his new level, but his actual capabilities remained unchanged until he decided where to invest his newfound attributes.
The only change was to his MP. It had gone up to 20!
Five attribute points. His first real choice in stat development.
But before he could fully process the allocation decision, new text appeared in his vision.
[TUTORIAL DUNGEON COMPLETE]
[REWARD SELECTION AVAILABLE]
[CALCULATING PERFORMANCE METRICS...]
[PERFORMANCE RATING: EXCEPTIONAL]
[BONUS REWARDS AUTHORIZED]
The arena began to dissolve around him, stone walls fading into motes of light that swirled upward like inverse snow. The torches flickered out one by one, leaving him standing in an expanding sphere of white radiance.
'Time to see what kind of rewards an "Exceptional" rating gets me,' he thought, allowing himself a moment of satisfaction as the teleportation effect began to take hold.
His PP counter read 2,847 and climbing. More than enough to upgrade a few of his aspects before he returned to the real world.
The white light intensified, and Zeph felt the familiar sensation of dimensional transition beginning to tug at his consciousness.
The tutorial was over.