Just like the mutt. Just like the goblin.

  That mage relies on a finite resource.

  Not sleep.

  Mana.

  If I can force him to spend it all... then he's just bones and a robe.

  I decided to bet everything on that.

  I poured 200 points straight into Dexterity. If I'm going to keep striking him at close range while dodging those spells, I need speed and precision.

  [STAT POINTS AVAILABLE: 465 >> 265]

  [Stats]

  800 STR.

  420 INT.

  600 >> 800 DEX.

  420 VIGOR.

  420 RES.

  I could have gone all in on Strength. That was my first instinct... But the more I thought about it, the more I realized it had more chances to go wrong than right.

  It's only thanks to Hard Swing that I can even crack his barrier.

  Hard Swing multiplies my Strength by 2.

  Meaning I would need at least twelve hundred Strength — pouring ALL of my remaining points into it — to break through his barrier and possibly kill him.

  But that assumes he doesn't dodge. Or counter. Or that he dies in one hit. He might be more durable than the goblin.

  No.

  Dex comes first this time.

  That, and I still have seven more circles after this... and I have no idea what's lurking in them. Who's to say I won't need Resistance next? Or more Vigor?

  'It's time,' I decided, and went in with that plan in mind.

  This isn't like the mutt or the goblin, where I could just deprive them of sleep.

  And he doesn't need to hide.

  But like the previous two, he has something he must lean on to survive. If I can extinguish that, I can kill him.

  So I started pummeling his shield. Relentlessly. Without rest.

  It took a few more weeks. I died a lot, which likely reset my progress.

  But after seeing his attacks hundreds, thousands, dozens of thousands of times... something odd started to happen.

  Dodging them became second nature. Even when his attacks were faster than me, I could see it. The microshifts in his robe. The way he moves his staff just before he readies an attack. I could...

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  See his flow.

  After a few hours I'd grow exhausted. I realized my stamina might not match his mana reservoir.

  I needed to adjust my strategy—

  NO.

  The image flashed through my mind — something I'd looted from both the Ninth circle and this one:

  [Item: Super Life Elixir x1] [Rank: Legendary (SS)] [Description: A mere drop cures all negative status effects, afflictions, and fatigue, fully restores satiety, and immediately heals any wound upon drinking.]

  'That's it...!'

  All I had to do was take a drop while I dodged.

  It took a few tries. At least a dozen bottles broke. Whenever I backed off, he'd cast a spell the moment I tried to open one and drink.

  That's when I returned to the Ninth circle. Using mana bottles — which I needed less than the life elixirs — I trained with that method instead.

  I'd do backflips, run up walls and ceilings, one hand reaching into my inventory, pulling out a mana elixir, popping the cork, taking a sip, sealing it, shoving it back.

  'Come on,' I'd tell myself, sometimes breaking the bottle, sometimes not.

  Then what felt like a month went by.

  Then another.

  Even with high Dexterity, this was difficult. I needed to do it with both hands, and I realized training alone wouldn't be enough.

  So I went back to fight the mage.

  Whenever I grew tired I'd drink the mana potions instead. I still got exhausted — but I needed to learn how to juggle bottles while moving at insane speeds without shattering them.

  I needed to make my touch more delicate.

  He killed me hundreds more times before I found the rhythm.

  Then I stopped dropping the bottle entirely.

  I knew I was ready.

  It was time to use the Super Life Elixir.

  And it worked exactly as intended. Hours of striking, growing tired, Super Life Elixir, not tired anymore — keep hitting, keep dodging, backflipping through the air until the air felt like a second ground beneath me. I was the master of my body, the master of that floor, and he was the invader.

  That's when he grew desperate. Then frantic — attacking more frequently, less cooldown between spells. He was strong. A new flow to learn, progress reset every time he killed me.

  Then, once I'd gotten used to that — he reached for his own mana potions.

  I hadn't even considered that skeletons could drink.

  '...! FUCK! I can't let him use that!'

  I realized that in those moments, I had to use Hard Swing to break his barrier and interrupt him. But I could only use it ten times. That wasn't sustainable.

  So I started juggling both. Super Life Elixirs and Super Mana Elixirs — replenishing my mana mid-fight so I could strike with Hard Swing whenever he reached for his potions. Drinking mid-dodge, never letting the pressure off.

  It was difficult. I broke a few bottles even then. They were fragile. I had to handle them like they might shatter at a thought.

  At some point, the world slowed.

  I stopped thinking about potions.

  I stopped thinking about dodging.

  My body moved the way it breathed — quietly, constantly, without asking permission.

  I lost all sense of time.

  Every movement folded into the next.

  Every hit landed where it had to.

  Every dodge happened before I knew I'd made it.

  'What... is this?'

  My vision sharpened like I'd stacked ten thousand points into Dexterity.

  Thoughts vanished.

  Everything else vanished.

  There was only me.

  The skeleton.

  And the rhythm of my hands.

  Hey, I called inward.

  Are you seeing this...

  ...Makoto?

  I think I'm stronger now.

  You can stay in that bed. Rest.

  'Leave it all to me from now on.'

  When my focus snapped back, I was standing over the Abyssal Mage.

  It was crumbling.

  Withering.

  Dissolving into dust.

  I hadn't even realized.

  The final hit...

  I'd already dealt it.