I grunt, muscles sore, as I push myself upright, using my sword as a crutch.

  That last strike took a lot out of me. Overkill, maybe—but I wanted to test it.

  Riegt wasn’t nearly as mighty once I was on his level. He clearly lacked combat experience—his sloppy use of skills gave him away. Hell, I only just got here and already handled myself better.

  But the battle’s over. My enemies lie dead or burnt to a crisp. A decisive victory.

  I let out a breath of relief. Relief that this loop is done. But it doesn’t last. It never does. It’s only a matter of time before the next one drags me back. Maybe by then I’ll have more control over this ability—before it cages me again.

  I turn toward the cathedral-fortress looming on the valley’s lone hill. Behind me, the jungle fire dies down, blaze fading into smolder.

  Nothing stands between me and tomorrow now.

  I take my time heading back. Not like I’ve got a choice—my body is wrung out after showing off.

  Faint at first, I hear it. The cheer of my machine, rising from the fortress. Louder with every step I take.

  I’m close enough now for them to see me unmistakably. I stare back, and they cheer—gleeful, loud, spilling over the battlements.

  I stand still, basking in it. Their joy isn’t theirs alone—I share it. Even if Riegt’s strength underwhelmed me, the fact remains: after countless loops, two weeks at a time, this battle is finally over. Finally won.

  The gate creaks open, and they pour out to greet me. For the first time, truly accepting. No hesitation, no flicker of fear. My performance must’ve been something to behold.

  My machine rushes forward, halting in perfect formation before me—Alfrick at the head, posture sharp as ever. Still disciplined. Good.

  I raise my voice.

  “At ease.”

  They obey. Then wait.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  Wait for what?

  I blink, confused. Even Alfrick looks expectant.

  Oh—right. A speech. Probably should.

  I clear my throat.

  “—My Machine. Today we’ve shown the Kretorians they don’t have permission to greed over what’s mine. We destroyed them—completely, decisively—for even daring to think it. And the next bastard who salivates over what’s mine will have to ask themselves if their hunger’s worth their life.”

  The words leave my mouth, and my machine erupts in cheers. Not for the speech, I suspect. More for the victory itself—so crushing, so absolute.

  The cheers die down, all of them waiting for my orders.

  “Good. We celebrate. Alfrick, get everything prepared. And everyone else—I expect you all to get blackout drunk.”

  They erupt again. So easy to please.

  “Dismissed.”

  Alfrick and the rest of my machine scatter back toward the fortress to ready the feast.

  As the last of them files inside, Koln appears behind me.

  “How long?” he asks, stepping up beside me.

  “Countless.” My answer is short. I don’t know how many exactly—I just know it was longer than Voi’s loop. Twice as long, at least.

  “Hmm. Did you see it?”

  “The double vision?”

  Koln smirks. “Good.” And just like that, he vanishes.

  “Good,” I mutter back, a grin spreading across my face. Maybe I’ve lost my mind. Maybe the countless deaths and endless suffering broke me. Doesn’t matter. I enjoyed the process of conquering the challenge. Every twisted step of it.

  I turn toward the fortress to take a breather—and celebrate with my humble army.

  ***

  The next day, I wake with a headache. My body feels heavy, sluggish. A hangover.

  Mana tolerance only goes so far. Drink whole barrels and you’ll still end up plastered. Somehow I even found my way back to my room.

  Voi lies curled at my feet, peaceful as ever, while I clutch my skull.

  I drag myself out of bed, shielding my eyes as sunlight stabs through the window. I stagger to the drapes and yank them shut, then drop into the chair at my table. Shirtless, trousers reeking of liquor.

  I sit perfectly still and begin to meditate, cycling mana through my body. I’d read it could help against poisons. And really—getting shitfaced is just self-poisoning, isn’t it?

  The fog and the pounding in my skull ease away, and focus slides back into me.

  We’ve bought ourselves some peace—but not for long. The villagers’ warnings echo in my head. The flood.

  What’s the fix? Dig trenches? Raise dirt banks? Plant trees? Whatever farmers do to stop floods?

  I wish it were that simple.

  The truth is, Retrevia sits on a broad sea of plains—but those plains are caged in by jungle. And not just any jungle. A curse warped it centuries ago into a throbbing crimson wall of flesh and vine, circling the plains in a perfect ring. A prison made of forest.

  Every so often, that cursed jungle births monsters that surge outward in waves. They call it the flood. A natural disaster, stamped into legend.

  And that’s what makes this hill different. The only break in the wall. A vein of mana crystal runs through it, deep as bedrock, and that crystal scrambled the curse when it was cast. The corruption couldn’t take root here. Before it was a fortress, a cathedral sat on this hill—hence the look. Poetic, in its own way.

  So this hill became the one open gate to the outside world. The single pass in and out of Retrevia.

  Kretoria wants the hill for the mana crystals—or whoever’s really pulling their strings.

  And Retrevia clings to it, desperate and barely holding on.

  This place is both their lifeline and their chokehold.

  The curse itself isn’t just some vague blight—it’s an advanced spell, like King Aresia’s storm wall. No surprise: it was one of his descendants who laid it, five centuries ago. He sacrificed his entire household—three hundred to two thousand souls, depending on the record—to forge this jungle prison. Generations of blood, burned away to cage Retrevia.

  Retrevia has rotted since then. The curse hasn’t.

  So we have a week or two to prepare for a horde of fleshy monsters—things that love killing, and that are especially drawn to this place because of the mana crystals.

  Easy. From beating brats to abominations. Why not.