A thrilling change in perspective; that simple change in thinking felt as though his body was ten pounds lighter, as if everything was flowing together and connecting as he found himself ducking his head under a wild swing before counterattacking without hesitation.

“Levin.”

His eyes locked onto the man directly in front of him, his head beneath the burly bicep of the mercenary who was still midway through his swing. He placed himself within striking range with his short dagger, close enough that his breath pressed against the man’s stoneskin. This time, he neglected to imbue the throttling electricity into his body, but extended it through the blade instead.

It was a natural adaptation, learning from the failed attack that led to his deathly experience. This time, a look of genuine surprise laid on the one blessed by Gaia as the hooded adventurer struck.

Coiled in surging electricity, the empowered dagger was thrust into the same spot on the mercenary’s chest. The tip of the blade neared the stone-changed flesh of the man, though in that small window of opportunity, another layer of earthen material condensed at the targeted area.

‘--What?’ Bastian reacted.

The dagger managed to pierce through the newly-formed plating of rock, though failed to break the skin beneath.

“Grgh!” Claxous growled, exuding effort for the first time at the last second defense.

Before the brawny swordsman could retaliate, the dagger was plucked from the hide of stone, allowing him to sidestep a downfall of the gargantuan blade.

“So, you can show emotion,” Bastian remarked, exhaling as he wiped droplets of sweat from his chin.

There was a subtle look of annoyance on the stoneflesh swordsman’s face now as he furrowed his bushy eyebrows and failed to respond, only instead stomping his boot down once more. A tremendous force rippled through the soil, causing it to bounce like waves of water.

The bounciness emitted a ticklish sensation through his legs, making it difficult to balance as he found it seeming as though the rippling soil would sink with any step.

While he focused on not falling over, the stone-skinned man maintained his distance as he plunged his greatsword into the bed of soil beside him before bringing his hands together.

“Enough of your games,” Claxous said as a malediction.

Veins pressed against the rocky flesh of the mercenary as he grunted, pushing his palms together with a clap that echoed before pointing both hands forward.

“Huh–?”

Having been watching his own feet as he stumbled over the bouncing dirt, Bastian brought his gaze back up, greeted by the sight of dust that swirled into multiple points around the blessed figure. It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what was forming as the sediment spun and condensed into shards of sharpened stone, fixed in the air.

“Pierce,” Claxous commanded with a wave of his hand.

The dozens of solid projectiles launched towards the imbalanced adventurer, who could hardly move one foot without falling over. In that singular second afforded to him as he watched the shards near him, he attempted to calculate a way to evade them all, though with the ground shifting beneath his boots, it was clear he had been cornered.

“Ngh!” A grimace left his lips as one of the shards pierced through his right shoulder, digging into it and pushing it back with surprising force behind its momentum.

The speed at which the projectile rammed into his shoulder caused it to dislodge itself from its socket with an audible “pop.” It was an unpleasant sensation, feeling his separated bones grinding, though it helped to dull the pain of the stone that bit through his flesh.

“Hhf–shit!” He sharply exhaled through his teeth, not allowed to wince at his pain as he forced himself to dodge.

It was a disgraceful lunge to the side, tripping over the rippling soil, though it allowed him to escape the projectiles that hunted him. Even if he managed to evade the fast-moving shards, more were being created by swirls of sediment around the mercenary, who maintained himself to the same spot.

An idea popped into the adventurer’s head as he quickly tugged his hood over his head, pulling the attached cowl down. It was an item he seldom wanted to rely on, as the sickening sensation it incurred came quickly.

“What–?” Claxous reacted in quiet surprise as the man vanished from sight.

The incoming projectiles completely missed their target, allowing Bastian to slip by and circle around the unaware swordsman. It wasn’t a perfect gambit; it wouldn’t last long, he knew that.

He managed to bring himself clear of the path of the earthen shards, reaching into his belt just as the rock-skinned figure began to turn towards his direction. It wasn’t sight nor sound that made his location precisely known–he knew that much.

The acute sixth sense through the blackened soil, the vibrations of his footsteps, were all the sight that the mercenary needed to find the invisible adventurer.

Still, Bastian expected this, needing only enough time to retrieve an object from his belt: a dazzling, bright-red gemstone. He flipped his cowl off, keeping his eyes on the stoneflesh man, who began conjuring shards in his direction.

Able to inhale and exhale once more, he pushed the pivotal word out of his mouth, “--Levin!”

He was already in the motion of swinging his arm, allowing the heightening limbs of electricity to infuse into the jewel as he threw it towards the figure. Any movement he made only made the pain in his shoulder spike again, forcing him to yank the shard out as blood spilled into the air, “Argh–!”

“--Mm?” Claxous witnessed the cracking gemstone hurling in his direction.

A radiance of crimson lights scattered around the bleak, enclosed field of the tower’s floor before the object burst, giving way to a volatile howl of flames directly against the hardened mercenary. Chaotic and mighty was the blaze, casting a sharp gale outward that nearly knocked the adventurer off his feet. Embers fluttered in the air as the fire, with the fire being cast away and replaced by billowing smoke.

As he kept his eyes on the cloud of blackened smoke, he felt a dull ache echo through his bones before numbness set upon his arm.

‘I’m well past my limits already, I think. At this point, I have to do everything I can to win–I know that wasn’t enough,’ he thought.

Awaiting the state of his opposition, he reached over to his bloodied shoulder as he gripped it tightly with his fingers before yanking it. An audible “pop” sounded out again as he winced, returning it to its proper socket.

Before the plume of ashen smog could fade, the soil rumbled once more beneath the feet of the hooded adventurer, who immediately jumped back. The dirt was split, being pushed up as a violent eruption of spikes arose.

He couldn’t help but imagine if he hadn’t preemptively moved, though that outcome was too gruesome a thought. That imagination could become a reality soon enough if he dropped his guard for a moment; piercing monuments of stone continued to jab upward at every spot his boots befell.

The smoke swayed, pushed away by the wind lured by huffs of steam as the focused man of stone remained standing with a displeased expression. It appeared the fiery devastation of the gemstone was enough to move the rocky mercenary, as steam oozed off his body and his stone skin peeled in small sections, like peeled back paper.

“Only the weak rely on such gimmicks. You lack true strength,” the stern voice of Claxous emitted.

‘He really did survive that. Man, what a monster. I’m not surprised, though,’ he thought.

In truth, he was feeling triumphant about the fact that the charged gemstone actually was effective against the brute. It felt as though the top of a colossal wall was now visible; the man blessed by Gaia could be hurt, even if he was without a Blessing of his own.

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‘Let’s do this—I’ll beat you, me, the weakling without a Blessing,’ he resolved.

There was only so much space within the stretch of black soil, only so much that was away from the bursts of steam that spewed from beneath the dirt.

Claxous exhaled a breath that resembled burning smoke; the sable irises of his lost their shape, jagging out like a crystalline formation. It sounded like stones being scraped and banged together; over the man’s body, a coating of morphing rocks fully encased him.

Beneath his breath, the adventurer murmured, “That doesn’t look good.”

The evolution his opponent underwent afforded him time to prepare himself as he took to a knee for a moment, rummaging his hands through his belt. There were many accessories he brought, though most of which were useless in a fight with the rock-skinned swordsman. Unfortunately, he never fully readied himself for battle before setting out for the Tower, as it was the one thing he avoided, if possible.

While sorting through his pockets to find something useful, he felt the shape and hardness of what felt like a gemstone in one of his pouches. As he pulled it out, he found it to be a spherical, cerulean gem. Seeing it brought upon a thought in his mind as he glanced over to the clouds of burning steam to his right.

‘...That may just work. Unlikely, but it might be my best chance at pulling this off,’ he thought to himself.

As a reckless, do-or-die plan implanted itself into his desperate mind, excitement bubbled in his heart as the once insurmountable foe felt fallible.

Just the thought of being able to overcome the one before him felt akin to madness, yet his confidence remained as his eyes met on the completed overhaul of the mercenary.

There was no semblance of flesh seen from beneath the hulking armor of dark-gray stone, seamlessly connecting itself as the cracks filled themselves naturally, becoming akin to an elemental of earth. A monstrosity that left behind anything resembling a man.

“….Hhhuuu…” Breath left through a small gap in Claxous’ stone helmet, coming out as hot wind.

The massive greatsword was easily hoisted up as if bearing the weight of a feather as sediment swirled around the length of its blade. It became clad in stone as well, having its length and width doubled.

Bastian couldn’t help but feel as if he escaped one monster only to encounter another; the man blessed by Gaia now stood across from him, clad in his mystical armor of stone with his land-splitting blade ready to be swung.

“This is true strength,” Claxous spoke, his voice echoed from behind his claustrophobic armor, “I could split you in two with a single flick of my wrist. I could crush you with a slam of my fist. I could break your legs and leave you stranded here for the creatures prowling this floor. That’s strength; the power to decide the fate of the weak.”

“C’mon, then,” Bastian taunted, doing his best to maintain his confidence as sweat slid down his cheek, “Try and kill this “weakling.”

The words he issued were met with an immediate response as he witnessed the stone-clad figure begin swinging his massive weapon in a side-arc motion. It made little sense, from the distance the blessed man was at, not even his extraordinarily large blade would be able to cover it.

“Ah–”

Bastian’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what was coming; as the sword was being swung, more rocks clung to it, rapidly piling on and lengthening the reach of the tool that hardly resembled a blade at this point.

It was as if a landslide was being weaponized; the swirling mass of stone swept through the soil, quickly closing in on the adventurer. He prayed his natural agility was enough as he waited for it to come close enough, feeling the powerful gust of wind it carried with it rustle through his light-brown locks. As it came within a single second away from making bone-crushing contact with him, he bent his knees and leapt up.

“Ha!” He let out, placing his life in his ability to jump.

The adrenaline pumping through his veins granted his legs the hop of a rabbit as he managed to rise above the swung mass of rocks. He looked down as it swept by, witnessing it roll through the dirt with a violent rumble.

‘He doesn’t care about anything else but killing me, does he?’ he thought, witnessing the lengths the mercenary went as the rocky weapon swept forth.

As he landed back onto his feet, he looked around quickly, finding that the lengthened pillar of stone had returned to a more reasonable length as the rock-armored man stomped towards him. Rather than meeting the goliath head on, he turned the other direction, making a run straight for the field of steam.

It was a decision that assuredly seemed stupid, as the steam was lethal to him, but nothing more than warm air to the man of stone, yet he delved into it nonetheless. Everything came down to timing; he kept count in his head of the building mounds in the soil, getting a sense of when they would release the geysers of burning air.

‘C’mon–a bit closer,’ he thought.

STOMP. STOMP. STOMP.

Each step taken by the stone-armored mercenary echoed through the bleak field, following mere no more than a dozen meters behind the swift adventurer. Around them, pillars of steam erupted, hissing in the stagnant air of the eleventh floor.

Bastian glanced back, coming to a stop, confirming that the man was still chasing behind him.

‘Good. This should be close enough,’ he thought.

Claxous’ voice boomed from his dense covering, “This is the end.”

“Maybe, we’ll see,” Bastian responded as he dropped down to a knee, planting both of his palms against the lifeless soil.

He kept his eyes up, watching the bulwark stomp towards him, hoisting his pillar of sharp stone up with killer intent. The confident adventurer, clad in sweat amidst the field of steam, dug his fingertips into the dirt, breathing in as he shouted:

“Levin!”

Calling upon the straining spell once again caused an immediate recoil from the adventurer as blood spewed from his nose and mouth, hacking up.

“What–?” Claxous hesitated.

A surge of fulminating mysticism pressed itself from the hands of the adventurer into the soil, rippling through the specks of dirt and pushing towards the ground which the stone man stood upon. It was unclear just what the unique magecraft had targeted with its amplifying touch at first, but as the mercenary looked down at his feet, it became obvious.

A mound, larger than any other in the field, bubbled up, rising like the dough cooked in flames; the bulbous rise of soil lifted the man of stone before–it released.

Flourishing into the isolated field, a pillar of roaring steam shot upward, quickly filling the area with a rise in temperature. It was magnitudes larger than any other geyser, expelling as a great, white mass with undeniable heat.

“--Ngh!” Bastian raised his arms, feeling the biting hit even from the distance away he stood from the pillar. It felt as though he was standing in an oven, unable to imagine what kind of scorch the mercenary experienced.

‘It worked–maybe too well! I knew from watching Uncle use it, but Levin…It’s versatility almost feels limitless. It was a gamble, but I knew if it worked, it’d be worth it: it charged and caused a reaction with the steam below the soil. All I had to do was let Levin flow to the spot that brute was standing…took a bit of luck,’ he thought.

Seeing the outcome of something made of his own actions enamored him as his emerald irises glistened, his hair blowing in the winds that swept through the field, all pouring off of the immense pillar of steam. An eruption of his own evolution; in the mind of the man who clung to caution, leading to stagnation, a thirst flickered in him: a desire to pursue greater heights, even if it meant risking everything.

“This heat…will not stop me!”

A roar boomed, distorted by rage as from the mass of steam, the rock-clad figure charged out. There was clear desperation from the once stoic swordsman now, as the sturdy armor that clung to his body emitted vapor, enveloped in scorching heat.

Each stomp taken crushed the soil behind the blessed man, causing small bursts of steam behind him as he recklessly charged towards the adventurer. Like a thoughtless beast, stamping its feet with only violence on its mind.

Bastian didn’t give up any ground, standing firmly as he held his hand up, revealing the cerulean gem he had kept a close hold of, “I didn’t plan on the heat getting you–I was betting on this doing the job.”

Guided by his burnt hand, the magical stone was lobbed through the field of steam, intercepting the thoughtless charge of the steaming mercenary.

“This is–?!” Claxous reacted, too late as the gemstone’s inner light burst outward.

An explosion burst out from the small object, manifesting into a large swirl of crystal-clear water. The aquatic mass showered the man, enveloping him in its brisk touch.

‘Water?...What is the purpose of this?’ Claxous questioned, feeling the cold fluid press against his rocky hide.

Bastian pointed towards the confused mercenary with a confident smirk of his own, “Let me give you a lesson: when something extremely hot makes sudden contact with extreme cold, they collide. The resulting reaction causes the vapor to–well, I’ll let you figure that one out.”

“What–?” Claxous reacted, looking down at his earthen exoskeleton.

The stone rattled; the mixture of hot and cold caused the vapor to flow and expand before–BOOM.

An explosion of steam flooded outward from the man of stone, pushing with extreme force as the adventurer found himself being blasted back as well. The breath was knocked out of his lungs, catching himself as he rolled onto his feet. As he inhaled, the abundance of hot air caused him to cough, feeling dizzy from the uninhabitable temperature that occupied the field.

‘How do ya like that, huh?!’ He thought.

In truth, he had no certainty just what the reach of the vapor explosion would be; the possibility laid in his mind that its heat might’ve reached him, as well. A gambit with his own life on the line, though the risk was high, the payoff was just as great.

A plume of steam fluttered upward, expanding near the ceiling as chunks of stone flung through the air.

The vapor calmed, allowing the adventurer to slowly walk across the field. Walking into a cloud of steam that had been cooled by the evaporating water, he found the mercenary, laid out on the ground, his stone armor having been blown away and his body covered in burns.

“Pretty good for someone without a Blessing, right?” Bastian asked, standing over the steaming figure.