Vale’s eyes widened as the whisper spoke of his memories.

  Even now, bleeding out, broken, staring death in the face, the mere mention of them struck deeper than any wound. His memories, the very thing that had been torn from him the moment he arrived in this world. The thing he had searched for relentlessly over the past months, chasing fragments and shadows of a life he could no longer remember.

  His mouth opened, but only blood spilled out at first. He gagged, doubling over as crimson splattered against the grass. His vision blurred violently before he finally forced the words out.

  “What do you mean?!” he cried, his voice trembling, cracking beneath pain and desperation.

  The whisper answered calmly, almost tenderly.

  “Look at you,” it murmured. “So pitiful.”

  Vale retched again, bile and blood burning his throat.

  “But do not worry, my child,” the voice continued, amused now. “I will care for you. I always have.”

  The whisper paused.

  A soft chuckle echoed through his mind.

  “All you have to do…” it said gently, “…is submit to me.”

  Vale froze.

  His breath caught in his chest as realization struck him with terrifying clarity.

  That voice.

  That presence.

  There was no mistaking it now.

  It was his Enigma.

  The same one that had stolen his memories. The same one that had stripped him of his first trial, his knowledge, his skills, his very past. The thing that had been watching him ever since.

  Vale said nothing.

  The colossal took another step forward.

  The ground split beneath its weight as its massive shadow swallowed Vale whole. Its hollow, inhuman gaze locked onto him as a titanic hand reached down, fingers curling, ready to close.

  Vale clenched his teeth as tears streamed down his face.

  He did not want to die.

  Not now.

  Not like this.

  Evelyn noticed.

  She turned, abandoning her battle, and rushed toward him, but she never reached him. The white knight seized her by the arm, yanking her backward with brutal force. Its broken blade slammed into her, launching her through the mountainside in an explosion of stone and shadow.

  The colossal’s hand loomed closer.

  A single tear fell from Vale’s eye, striking the blood-soaked grass below.

  Finally, he screamed.

  “Do it!” Vale shouted, his voice raw, shattered. “Take me!”

  The whisper laughed softly, pleased.

  “I will take very good care of you,” it said, as the colossal’s hand descended. “For now, all you need to do… is sleep.”

  Vale’s eyes widened for a single instant,

  And then his consciousness vanished.

  The colossal’s hand slammed down.

  It should have crushed him.

  It should have ended everything.

  But instead,

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  Light erupted.

  From the center of the colossal’s palm, a brilliant golden radiance burst forth, searing through carapace and flesh alike. The creature recoiled with a deafening wail as its arm was torn apart from within, green blood spraying violently across the battlefield.

  Where Vale had been standing,

  Someone else now stood.

  The figure looked identical in form, yet utterly different in presence. His eyes burned with molten gold, calm and unshaken. His posture was relaxed, almost indifferent, as if the chaos around him were little more than background noise.

  He glanced down briefly at Vale’s broken body.

  His eyes narrowed.

  The leather armor responded instantly, surging with golden light. Flesh knit itself back together. Bones realigned. Blood loss reversed as Vale’s body regenerated at an impossible speed.

  The colossal staggered back, roaring in blind fury as it clutched its ruined arm.

  The man, wearing Vale’s body, tilted his head slightly.

  “I suppose I lied,” he said with a crooked grin. “But it was for the best.”

  He waved a hand dismissively.

  “You’re not ready to peer into our memories just yet.”

  Vale’s implant flared in response, erupting into a blinding white light that washed over the entire mountain range. The radiance condensed, reshaping itself into a bone-like blade that glowed faintly, humming with primordial power.

  The man grasped it effortlessly.

  He looked at the colossal and sighed.

  “My resources are… limited in this body,” he admitted, his grin widening. “But they’ll be enough.”

  The colossal roared and charged, trampling what little life remained beneath its feet.

  The man stepped forward calmly, assuming an offensive stance. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes.

  And when he opened them, the world was no longer the same.

  Color vanished.

  All distinctions collapsed into a single primordial hue, the origin from which all else derived.

  He glanced briefly at the blade, at the armor.

  “Of course,” he muttered. “You haven’t awakened these yet.”

  A small, knowing smile crossed his face.

  “After all… one must enter Nirvana to unlock their true potential.”

  And he had.

  Nirvana.

  The state of origin.

  The place where even an ant could become a tyrant.

  A realm only the rarest beings could ever reach.

  He turned back to the colossal, utterly unimpressed.

  Its signature was immense, but compared to the abominations he had slain during Vale’s first trial, it was insignificant.

  A shame, really.

  He raised the blade.

  And swung.

  The slash lasted less than an instant.

  Light tore through the colossal effortlessly, cleaving it apart from existence itself. The creature froze mid-charge, its form splitting cleanly before collapsing inward.

  The man flicked the blade once, and it dissolved back into the implant.

  He turned away, walking calmly until he stopped beside a shattered tree. Without looking back, he waved his hand.

  The colossal fell apart completely.

  Defeated by a single strike.

  The man closed his golden eyes, a faint smirk lingering on his face.

  “I suppose I’ll leave the rest to you,” he said calmly.

  “My dear student.”

  As the final word left his lips, the smirk faded. The golden radiance drained from his gaze, replaced once more by pale, familiar white.

  Vale stood motionless.

  Before him lay the colossal, no longer a singular horror, but a ruined thing, its immense body split apart and collapsing under its own weight. The ground trembled as the remains finally settled, silence crashing down upon the battlefield like a suffocating veil.

  Vale stared.

  His breath came shallow, uneven. His legs felt distant, unreal, as if they no longer belonged to him. Slowly, he felt something warm trickle down his face.

  He raised a trembling hand and touched his nose.

  Blood.

  Fresh, bright crimson coated his fingers.

  “What hap-”

  The words never finished.

  In the same instant, it happened.

  Every blood vessel in Vale’s body ruptured at once.

  Pain beyond comprehension exploded through him as his skin was painted red in a violent spray. His knees buckled, slamming into the earth as his body convulsed uncontrollably. Muscles locked. Vision shattered into fragments of white and black.

  He did not scream.

  He couldn’t.

  Nirvana had exacted its price.

  Only his armor, now fully awakened, kept him from dying outright. The metallic arm flared with unstable energy, its healing systems working beyond their intended limits, desperately preventing total collapse. Flesh held together by will alone. Life suspended on the edge of annihilation.

  Vale remained kneeling, shaking violently.

  His mind was gone.

  Overloaded. Fractured. Silent.

  And yet,

  The gate had not closed.

  The hell gate pulsed violently, its edges distorting as something else forced its way through. With a guttural snarl, a blood-red tiger emerged, its body sleek and monstrous, eyes burning with predatory intelligence.

  It surveyed the battlefield for a single moment.

  Then it lunged.

  Hundreds of meters vanished in an instant as it charged toward Vale, claws tearing through the earth, jaws wide open.

  Vale looked up.

  His eyes were hollow.

  Unblinking.

  He did not move.

  He knew, without doubt, that this was where he would die.

  But the tiger never reached him.

  Reality twisted, as woman appeared between them.

  She seized the tiger by the head with impossible strength, her fingers digging deep into its skull. The beast roared and thrashed violently, claws raking her body, teeth tearing into flesh,

  Only for every wound to heal the moment it was inflicted.

  The woman did not flinch.

  She turned her head slightly, looking down at Vale as he knelt in blood and ruin. For just a moment, her expression softened.

  Then she turned back to the tiger.

  Her eyes burned with madness and devotion intertwined.

  “You dare,” Alexandria said quietly, her voice trembling with fury,

  “to harm my savior.”

  Her grip tightened.

  The tiger’s skull imploded in an instant.

  Blood, bone, and organs burst outward as the creature collapsed lifelessly to the ground.

  Alexandria stepped forward without hesitation.

  Before her, the hell gate continued to writhe as more spawn began to emerge, creatures drawn by chaos, by power, by the scent of catastrophe.

  She raised her head.

  And smiled.

  The battlefield had gained a new guardian.

  And perhaps, something far worse.