The horn sounded.
Advance.
Eiden stepped forward because everyone else did.
Mud swallowed his boots again. Smoke clung to his lungs.
The human formation moved as one trembling body toward the demon shield wall.
The red-trimmed soldier stood left of canter.
Still.
Watching.
Eiden kept his gaze low.
If the battlefield was learning, then so was he.
The first clash struck like a collapsing roof.
Steel rang.
A man screamed.
The line compressed.
He moved early this time.
Not because he remembered a strike—
But because he remembered the hesitation before it.
A shield slammed down in front of him. He pivoted behind it.
A blade scraped sparks across the rim.
His head throbbed.
Not pain.
Pressure.
His thoughts felt stacked on top of each other, slightly misaligned.
When he turned, the world followed half a heartbeat late.
Half a heartbeat kills.
A demon lunged from the right.
He reacted.
Late.
Steel grazed his thigh instead of cutting deep.
He stumbled but didn't fall.
Alive.
Still alive.
The formation shifted.
Different rhythm this time.
The demons weren't pushing canter.
They were pressing the human left flank harder than before.
Eiden's stomach tightened.
That hadn't happened in the first loop.
He backed two steps before the collapse.
A gap opened where he'd stood.
A demon blade filled it.
The man who'd taken his previous place went down without a sound.
The red-trimmed soldier turned his head slightly.
Not toward the fallen man.
Toward Eiden.
Too precise.
Eiden forced himself not to react.
Don't look back.
Don't confirm it.
Another horn cut across the battlefield.
Short. Sharp.
The demons shifted again.
A disciplined lateral movement.
They were testing weaknesses faster now.
His breathing grew shallow.
If I keep changing things…
The world changes with me.
The line buckled.
Retreat.
He moved immediately.
This time, no shield clipped him. No blind stumble.
He reached the ridge intact.
Men collapsed around him in exhaustion.
Some didn't get up.
He bent forward, hands on knees.
The pounding in his skull worsened.
Not just fatigue now.
Blur.
When he blinked, the world doubled briefly before snapping back into focus.
Too many resets in one day.
He counted silently.
One.
Two.
Three deaths.
Three rewinds.
His head felt like it had been pulled backward three times and forced to settle in place.
Rynn approached, wiping blood from her blade.
"You're bleeding," she said.
He looked down.
The cut on his thigh had reopened slightly.
"I noticed."
She studied him.
"You're moving before signals."
"I'm guessing."
"You're guessing accurately."
He didn't respond.
Across the field, the demons reformed with calm efficiency.
No panic.
No shouting.
Just discipline.
The red-trimmed soldier stood slightly behind the first line now.
Observing.
Not fighting.
Rynn followed his gaze.
"You see something?"
"No," he said too quickly.
Her eyes narrowed.
"Stay near me next push."
That wasn't part of previous loops.
A small change.
Small changes branch.
The horn sounded again.
Advance.
The humans surged forward.
Eiden stayed close to Rynn this time.
The clash hit harder.
Demon pressure focused near their position.
Not random.
Directed.
His chest tightened.
They're testing.
A blade came low toward Rynn's exposed side.
He saw it early.
Moved earlier.
Blocked with the shaft of his spear.
The impact rattled his arms.
The demon recoiled.
Rynn countered, driving her blade through the opening.
The demon fell.
She glanced at Eiden.
"You're not guessing."
He forced a breath.
"Maybe I panic in useful directions."
Another horn.
Different pattern.
The demon left flank folded backward deliberately.
A lure.
He recognized it too late.
The human canter advanced into the opening.
Then the trap closed.
Demons surged inward from both sides.
Encirclement.
That hadn't happened in earlier loops.
The battlefield was accelerating.
"Back!" Rynn shouted.
Too late.
A demon crashed into Eiden's side.
They fell together into the mud.
The red-trimmed soldier stood above him.
Close.
Close enough to see the faint scar along the demon's jaw.
Calm eyes.
Unhurried.
He didn't strike immediately.
He studied.
Eiden's thoughts dragged.
Half a second behind.
If I die now—
The blade descended.
He twisted.
Steel pierced his shoulder instead of his throat.
Pain detonated.
He screamed this time.
The demon withdrew the blade with mechanical precision.
Not killing.
Testing.
Why?
Eiden tried to stand.
His leg buckled.
Another strike.
Through the chest.
Clean.
Darkness.
Stone.
Incense.
"…successful resonance!"
He woke on his hands and knees.
The chamber felt louder than before.
The priest's voice seemed distant.
"…No response."
His head throbbed violently.
The lights were too bright.
The incense too thick.
His thoughts lagged more noticeably now.
Like wading through water.
Four deaths.
Four rewinds.
He swallowed.
The sleep deprivation wasn't just exhaustion.
It was distortion.
He forced himself to stand through the ceremony.
Through the hall.
Through the king's tired sigh.
"Another failure."
When they handed him the spear, his fingers slipped before gripping it.
That hadn't happened earlier.
He stared at his own hand.
Tremor.
Minor.
But real.
If I die again…
Will I even be able to hold this?
They marched.
Ridge.
Mud.
Demons.
The red-trimmed soldier stood in the same place as before.
But now—
He was closer to the canter.
Not reacting to human formation.
Positioned for Eiden.
Cold realization settled in his chest.
The battlefield isn't remembering me.
But it's reacting to my influence.
And he is the one measuring it.
The horn sounded.
Advance.
He did not move immediately.
For the first time, he hesitated.
Not from fear.
From calculation.
If he kept dying—
He would become slower.
Slower meant useless.
Useless meant permanent death in a loop he couldn't survive.
Rynn glanced back at him.
"Move."
He stepped forward.
But differently.
He stayed two ranks behind the front line.
Smaller.
Less visible.
The clash began.
The red-trimmed soldier advanced.
Scanning.
Eiden kept his head down.
Let others engage.
Let others draw attention.
A blade struck the man in front of him.
Eiden did not step into the gap.
He stepped back.
Breaking pattern.
The red-trimmed demon's gaze passed over him.
Missed him.
Moved on.
The encirclement trap began forming again—
But this time Eiden pulled back early.
Too early.
Rynn noticed.
"Hold the line!"
He shook his head once.
"Back."
She hesitated.
A heartbeat.
Then she trusted him.
"Fall back!" she shouted.
The human canter withdrew before the trap closed.
The demons' flanking manoeuvre cut empty air.
A small disruption.
Small.
But real.
The red-trimmed soldier froze for half a second.
Confusion.
The first crack in his composure.
Eiden felt it.
A shift.
Not victory.
Recognition.
He swallowed.
He could not outfight them.
He could not outlast infinite resets.
But he could reduce deaths.
Preserve clarity.
Choose when not to test fate.
The horn sounded retreat.
The humans withdrew in disorder—but alive.
More alive than before.
On the ridge, Eiden collapsed to one knee.
His head pounded.
Vision blurred at the edges.
But he was still conscious.
Still sharp enough.
For now.
Across the field, the red-trimmed demon stood watching him.
No hostility.
No rage.
Only calculation.
And for the first time—
Eiden understood the real danger.
Not dying.
But being measured.