Reborn As Papa Silva

Chapter 102 - The Death Trial

Challenges don't hinder growth; they foster it — enriching the soil of struggle so that the sprout of your potential can bloom in full. — Number 1 Bullshitter

—

Sebastian looked coldly up at the colossal, metallic golem towering over him in the strange cosmic space. Its futuristic, puppet-like form radiated an oppressive presence that made it difficult to breathe.

Is this what those ancient demons felt like? Sebastian wondered. The sheer pressure rolling off the titanic puppet was suffocating — like the outwards manifestation of something ancient and powerful, yet stripped of all malevolence.

The puppet's hollow eye sockets and the circuit-like magical veins tracing its body suddenly shifted from an azure blue to a crimson red. Although it was just a puppet, it suddenly felt alive — and it felt angry.

It was like some twisted, enraged version of Baymax.

The giant lifted its broad right leg — toes pointed skyward. Well, not toes exactly — more like a rounded, bulbous foot. Despite its obese stature, the movement was disturbingly fluid.

Then it stomped downwards, aiming to squash Sebastian like a bug.

Sebastian scoffed. With his abilities no longer suppressed, he almost mockingly flickered away — just a hair's breadth from disaster — and appeared in the sky, now eye-level with the puppet.

The puppet's foot struck the astral floor with a thunderous impact, producing a jagged crack that split the black-and-white translucent platform like shattered glass. Before Sebastian could dwell on it, the platform seemed to repair itself, the cracks vanishing as though they'd never existed.

The puppet craned its head up, red eyes flickering ominously. Without a sound, it swung its left arm laterally — palm open — in a casual yet terrifyingly swift motion, like a swat meant to swat Sebastian away like a fly.

Once again, Sebastian flickered away, appearing a hundred meters back.

The golem puppet paused. Its crimson veins and eyes dimmed, returning to their original calm blue. It scratched its round, bubble-like head almost cutely, looking dumbfounded.

Sebastian's eyes twitched in comedic disbelief. "What's so surprising? You're just too slow—"

His words caught in his throat as his pupils shrank.

The Baymax knockoff had vanished in a blur.

Impossible—

In the blink of an eye, it reappeared right behind him, its veins and eyes glowing red once more.

Sebastian barely had time to glance over his shoulder before the puppet's massive hands, clenched together in a double axe-handle strike, came crashing down toward him.

He flickered away again, but this time not by skill — by instinct. His evasion wasn't clean; he barely escaped the strike itself, but the sheer pressure from the puppet's swing blasted him backwards, sending him spiraling through the air in an uncontrolled series of somersaults.

Barely managing to right himself, Sebastian had only a split second before the puppet reappeared behind him again — faster this time.

It swung both hands forward in a clapping motion — with Sebastian set to be the bloody paste caught in between.

As the massive hands closed in, the surroundings darkened.

In that instant, Sebastian's body glowed light blue and liquefied.

His form dispersed into hundreds — no, thousands — of droplets and streams of water, seeping through the puppet's fingers in all directions.

The puppet slowly raised its head, watching the scattered droplets drift away — only to see them rapidly converge, reforming into one whole, unharmed Sebastian.

Barely sparing a moment for his blurry vision to refocus, Sebastian was greeted by the sight of the behemoth throwing a rising punch — its massive right fist hurtling toward him, face first.

(Or well, body first, he thought grimly, because even a hundred of me would be dwarfed by the size of that fist.)

Sebastian's back hairs stood on end. He couldn't liquefy.

His eyes widened as mana exploded outward in a humongous spherical dome, centered around the puppet.

Sebastian nearly screamed.

Jumbo here can use Mana Zone?!

In that instant, as the puppet's fist shot forward, every trace of mana within its wide range bent to the puppet's control. Sebastian's own Mana Zone shattered — crumbling like brittle glass in the face of overwhelming pressure.

His ability to fly? Gone. His ability to stand mid-air? Gone. His spells? Stripped away.

Helpless, Sebastian could only watch as the colossal fist — as large as the Royal Capital's town square — connected perfectly with his falling body.

And then Sebastian exploded.

A streak of crimson mist splattered through the air — blood, bones, flesh — erased in an instant. Not even brain matter remained.

The puppet paused, crimson veins and eyes dimming to a calm blue once again. It closed its eyes and smiled — cutely — like a joyous child basking in the pride of success.

Then its round head snapped to the far-left corner.

The puppet's plain blue eyes shifted, transforming into intricate gear-like patterns — microscopic lenses whirring and adjusting in rapid oscillations. Its gaze zoomed in, focusing on what seemed like empty air — until several barely noticeable water droplets came into view, hovering mid-air.

From the puppet's peripheral vision, it noticed the red streak that had been Sebastian's remains outline itself in faint blue and shot toward those droplets.

The crimson smear and the scattered droplets converged, spiraling like a whirlpool — until Sebastian reformed.

He staggered, disheveled and gasping for breath, drenched in sweat and stripped naked from head to toe. His legs barely held him up as he stared at the puppet with a twisted expression — part horror, part trembling relief.

His gaze flickered to the side — to his grimoire, floating beside him, where a new spell had just etched itself into the pages. He let out a shaky chuckle, fear still written all over his face.

I... I should be dead.

When Sebastian first activated his water body and split, he hadn't reformed all of himself. Instead, he'd left behind a dozen stray droplets — scattered far away — prepared to become clones if needed.

When the puppet crushed his Mana Zone, Sebastian — teetering on death's door — experienced a moment of clarity. In that fleeting instant, he had gained a new ability.

Remembering how he and his clones had moved through the maze, connected by thin threads of water, Sebastian forged a spell — one that tapped into the spiritual link he shared with his clones.

The spell allowed him — or his clones — to switch places with one another as long as they could sense each other.

Through this link, Sebastian's soul — or pieces of it — could replace one another. His clones could take over his body, and he could take theirs.

And because of that, he was still alive... but far from unharmed.

The sheer, concentrated mana radiating off the puppet's fist had incinerated much of his body — meaning much of his clones... and much of his soul.

"Chkkk..."

Sebastian gritted his teeth and clutched the side of his head, still reeling from the lingering pain — not just the physical agony of being reduced to nothing, but the far worse spiritual pain of having a good chunk of his soul annihilated.

He could feel his mana reserves plummeting — down to roughly 60% from that single move.

This... isn't good.

Sebastian's gaze flicked toward the puppet. Its expansive Mana Zone filled nearly the entire astral platform. He was backed into a corner — a near impasse.

If my Mana Zone mastery was even half as good as Mereoleona's...

If it were, he could strike freely within the puppet's territory. But with the puppet's overwhelming zone crushing down on him, any long-range attack that left his own thin veil of mana would be snuffed out or turned against him the instant it crossed into the puppet's domain.

That left only one option — close combat.

But there was no way his fists — or even his rapier — could so much as dent that thing's armor. Especially when his water jets earlier hadn't managed to even scratch the maze's walls — the same material the puppet was made of.

As the puppet's blue eyes and veins once again turned red, Sebastian sighed and forced himself to his feet.

Water swirled around him, weaving itself into a strange, mesomorphic outfit — like a liquid mimicry of a tracksuit.

Clenching his jaw, Sebastian pushed through the pain and pressure, straining to form a tiny, almost Mana Skin-like zone of his own — a pitiful island of mana inside the puppet's suffocating territory.

I don't need a perfect counter, he told himself, extending his arms as his grimoire's pages fluttered wildly.

The only way to break through a Mana Zone... is with a Mana Zone of your own... or extreme magic...

So let's use both.

Sebastian's expression darkened. "This is the spell that made that naughty brat call me Uncle... Eat this, you fat fuck!"

"Mana Zone - Water Creation Magic: Blue Cetacean!"

The puppet's red eyes flickered as its vision filled with a blinding blue light.

Then the light faded... revealing something unexpected.

"Brrrrooooaaar!"

A deep, resonant bellow shook the air. From within the lingering glow, a behemoth emerged.

Though small compared to the mountain-like puppet, the creature was still massive — more than enough to draw the puppet's full attention.

A magical construct resembling a colossal blue whale drifted weightlessly through the air. Nearly 30 meters long, with a flat, U-shaped head, a streamlined body, and small dorsal and pectoral fins, it looked both majestic and monstrous. Water gushed from its two blowholes like twin geysers, while its triangular whip-like tail carved lazy spirals through the air.

The whale's back shimmered in a deep azure blue, while its underside stretched pale grey — like rolling fog beneath a stormy sky.

It swam fluidly through the air, circling Sebastian in protective loops — a calm yet imposing guardian.

The whale's deep, ocean-blue eyes glowed brightly as it spun around and charged at the puppet.

The golem's gaze flickered a deeper shade of red, its glowing eyes narrowing as the whale swam through the air — through its Mana Zone — closing the distance between them.

With its flabby arms outstretched, the puppet exerted its control over the ambient mana, commanding it to gather and constrict around the approaching whale — to crush it.

But the whale didn't shatter like fragile glass. It didn't dematerialize.

Instead, the whale did something... unexpected. Or perhaps, something entirely normal.

Baleen whales feed by swallowing massive mouthfuls of water, filtering out plankton and other prey...

And that's exactly what the Blue Whale did.

It opened its wide maw — but instead of devouring water or plankton, it swallowed the air itself... the puppet's Mana Zone.

The puppet's flickering red eyes wavered, pulsing between crimson and blue as confusion seeped in. It felt its mana draining — no, being ripped away. The whale devoured its power greedily, like a black hole with an infinite and insatiable appetite.

The whale swelled as it fed, glowing brighter with every pulse of stolen mana. Its form stretched and expanded — from 30 meters to 40... 50... 60... and still larger.

It surged forward, growing faster, stronger — until it loomed nearly as large as the puppet itself.

And then it crashed into the golem, headfirst.

"Brrrrkkk!!!"

The astral platform trembled violently as the two behemoths collided. The puppet's outstretched arms braced against the whale's bulk, struggling to hold it back.

But the whale's momentum — heavy, unstoppable — forced the puppet backward. Step by grinding step, the golem slid across the platform's fractured surface, cracks spider webbing beneath its feet like splintered glass.

Sebastian narrowed his eyes, noting something curious — the puppet's movements seemed... hesitant.

Can that fatty not fly...?

That was the only explanation that made sense. The puppet's growing concern, its desperate resistance — it all pointed to that one weakness.

An unexpected surprise... but I'm not about to gamble on that.

Panting heavily, Sebastian forced a tired smile. His spell might have been self-sufficient, but casting it had drained him badly. His arms ached, his breaths came in ragged gasps, yet he smiled all the same.

The whale — now fully bloated on stolen mana — dwarfed the puppet. The once-flabby behemoth seemed to tremble beneath its weight, leaning back as though barely able to hold it off.

Now's my chance!

Sebastian's grin twisted into something manic and dark as he shot backward several kilometers in an instant, and encased himself in a protective dome of water. Then, with a dramatic snap of his fingers, he let out a boisterous laugh.

"DIE, CHUBBY!!!"

The puppet, perhaps overhearing him, paused. Its eyes and veins flickered a light blue — confused.

Then it stilled.

The whale it had been grappling began to glow — bright and unstable — swelling like an inflating balloon.

A balloon on the verge of popping.

Before the puppet could react, the whale — now an erratic, writhing mass of mana — detonated in a cataclysmic explosion.

A gargantuan water bomb.

The strange cosmic space was instantly engulfed in a blinding aquatic-blue light.

"BOOOOOOOM!!!!"

Even within the safety of his water sphere, Sebastian had to crouch and plug his ears as the deafening roar rattled his skull. His eardrums throbbed painfully, and he squeezed his eyes shut, terrified the light might sear his vision away.

The force of the blast cracked his water sphere like fractured glass before it finally shattered, hurling Sebastian back another few hundred meters.

Instinctively stabilizing himself mid-air, Sebastian hesitated before forcing his eyes open.

And that's when he saw it.

A pillar of smoke — no, not smoke — but dense, curling mist and fog shaped like smoke, drifting eerily in the middle of nowhere.

The astral platform was gone.

No cracks. No rubble. No lingering remnants — just empty space.

As Sebastian floated forward and downward, the black-and-white speckled floor slowly reformed beneath him — shimmering as it dematerialized back into existence.

Thud.

The sharp sound of boots striking the newly restored platform echoed through the strange world. Step by step, Sebastian advanced toward the smoky mist — never once lowering his guard.

With a flick of his fingers, his mana flared. Water tendrils outlined the mist in glowing blue before sweeping through it, parting the haze to reveal the aftermath.

Sebastian's smile returned.

Because there was barely anything left.

The once-colossal puppet — that mountainous mass of unknown metal or maze-wall material — had been reduced to fragments. Most of it had disintegrated into nothing. Only a few jagged chunks of debris remained — barely enough to form a boulder.

It appeared Sebastian had won.

Or so he thought.

Sebastian's instincts flared. His body flickered — reappearing ten meters back — and that's when he saw it.

Just like before, when the maze walls had melted down to form the colossal puppet, the remaining chunks of metal began to liquefy.

The molten fragments gathered, spinning like a whirlpool — or some twisted concoction swirling inside a blender — before reforming the puppet once more.

Well... not quite.

This time, perhaps due to the far smaller pool of material, the puppet's size had drastically shrunk.

Now it was... human-sized.

If seven feet could be called human-sized.

Now it really looked like Baymax — cute, squishable, huggable... but also very, very dangerous.

The puppet's eyes and veins turned red again — darker this time. A deep, almost malevolent crimson.

Right then, the interface popped up beside Sebastian with a new message — one that pissed him off immediately.

Naturally, the final boss has multiple forms... it wouldn't be a final boss if it went down that easy, would it?

Sebastian scowled at the screen, ignoring it, and turned back to the puppet.

It stood there, unmoving, almost calm.

Despite its smaller frame, the suffocating mana pressure rolling off it was nearly as intense as before.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was running on fumes — physically, mentally, and spiritually drained. His mana reserves had dipped to roughly 50%.

I could cast that spell again...

But with the puppet's smaller, swifter build — and based on trope likely improved intelligence — there was no way it would let itself be caught by that whale a second time.

This... just got worse.

Sebastian sighed, about to throw out some sarcastic remark — maybe something witty — before he abruptly tensed.

The puppet raised one of its flabby hands, its index finger leveling straight at him.

In a split second, particles of red mana gathered at its fingertip, condensing into a dense spherical ball — then shot out like a laser beam, streaking directly toward Sebastian's face.

Shit—

Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was experience — or maybe it was just from getting his ass handed to him by his wife the past two days — but somehow, Sebastian managed to duck sideways just in time.

The beam barely missed, grazing his cheek in a bloody streak.

Sebastian had been through a lot of pain in his life. Being nearly roasted alive by his niece? Yeah, that had held the crown as the worst physical agony he'd ever endured.

Physically speaking.

But this?

This was something else.

He couldn't have imagined that a mere singe on his cheek could burn so bad. Could hurt so bad.

"Ahhhhh!!!!"

Sebastian clutched the side of his face, only to recoil with a sharp hiss — the second his fingers touched the wound, the searing pain flared up again, radiating across his hand like fire licking his nerves.

"The hell was that?!" he spat at the Baymax knockoff.

The puppet said nothing — just stared blankly at him, like some vacant airhead.

Ignoring it, Sebastian summoned his water body, letting the cool liquid wrap around his face to patch up and heal the wound.

It didn't work.

The bleeding stopped, but somehow... inexplicably... the injury refused to vanish. On a body that should be able to heal and regenerate itself as long as he had mana, the burn remained.

A grotesque, angry scar carved its way down the right side of his cheek.

Sebastian felt a cold pit form in his chest.

If that thing actually hits me somewhere vital... I'm dead.

The adrenaline, the relief, the reckless confidence he'd been riding on — all of it drained out of him in an instant. Reality set in like ice down his spine.

I might not make it out of this.

Sebastian gritted his teeth.

Damn it... why didn't I just answer that question—

Do you love Nozel the most of all your children?

That question rang in his mind again, looping over itself.

He paused.

Clarity cut through the panic.

Slowly, Sebastian straightened, unclenching his fists, then tightening them once more.

"That's not a question I can answer... and it's not a question I should be answering," he muttered, his eyes flickering with something complicated — something heavier than fear.

"Even if it was... that's between me and my family."

His expression hardened as he shifted into a battle stance.

"Whatever. I chose this path, so I'll see it through." His knuckles popped as his fists clenched tighter.

"I took you down once... I can do it again." His gaze sharpened.

"And I'll do it however many times it takes."

Sebastian seemed confident — resolute, determined, heroic.

That expression vanished in an instant.

What happened next wiped it clean off his face.

Above the puppet, five golden magic circles — pentagram arrays — floated in an arch-like pattern.

Sebastian froze.

This thing can use Mana Method...?

From left to right, the arrays filled with spinning, drill-like spikes of earth, gusting tornadoes of wind, searing wisps of flame, crackling bolts of lightning, and heavy orbs of water.

These weren't just mana constructs — they were natural elements.

Sebastian blanked further.

This thing can use multiple attributes...?

For a brief second, he wanted to complain.

Oi, Ref, isn't this unfair?

But his complaints didn't matter. The puppet's crimson eyes flickered — and in the next heartbeat, all five elements surged toward him in unison.

Water and fire shouldn't have mixed — yet somehow they did.

A burning torrent crackling with electricity, propelled by violent gusts of wind, surged toward him — with an earthen drill spinning fiercely at its head. It closed the distance in an instant.

Sebastian's grimoire flipped rapidly beside him as he pointed down at the floor between himself and the puppet.

"Mana Zone: Whirlpool!"

The twisted, chaotic attack — like a homing missile — suddenly veered off course, spiraling toward the swirling whirlpool that had begun forming beneath it.

The churning waters devoured the oncoming assault, swallowing the burning, crackling, spinning mess whole — not even a hint of an explosion when it made contact.

The whirlpool vanished into nothingness.

The puppet scratched its round head dumbly — and then disappeared in a blur.

But this time, Sebastian was ready.

Tracking its movement with both mana sense and eyesight, Sebastian spun his body leftward just in time to come face-to-face with the reappearing puppet.

The puppet's flabby right hand lashed out in a wide slap toward his face.

Sebastian's fists, encased in reptilian-like gloves — his Gauntlets of Pontus — shot up in a high guard just in time.

"Chkk!"

The sound of bones fracturing and armor splintering rang out from the collision as Sebastian skidded backward several meters, boots scraping harshly against the ground.

His water body surged into action, rapidly mending the crushed bones and torn tissue in his hand. His gauntlet, too, quickly repaired itself.

All the while, Sebastian's emotionless gaze never left the puppet.

Just as the puppet seemed about to move again, Sebastian sneered and charged forward.

"My turn!"

The puppet paused — almost appearing confused, as if it was used to being the assailant — when Sebastian suddenly appeared in front of it, throwing a rising right hook.

With its superior speed, the puppet managed to react in time, swinging a downward punch of its own.

Gauntlet-covered fist collided knuckles-first with a bulbous, flabby strike, and the air cracked from the impact.

The puppet's eyes flickered a deeper shade of red, while Sebastian gritted his teeth in pain. His arm bent back sharply — snapping into a distorted V-shape like a twig.

Once again, Sebastian was sent skidding backward, and once again, his arm glowed blue. His water body surged to repair it almost instantly.

I knew it. Close combat's pretty much pointless... especially if I can't even land a clean hit!

As Sebastian cursed inwardly, the puppet appeared above him, arms raised high like a gorilla poised to strike.

It swung down with both fists.

Reacting just in time, Sebastian managed to catch the puppet's round, flabby wrists, halting the strike just inches above his head.

What the hell... Sebastian still didn't understand how something made of metal could be so bubbly — but now wasn't the time to dwell on it.

The puppet, despite having its wrists restrained, kept pressing down with crushing force — its sheer strength steadily overwhelming Sebastian.

He gritted his teeth, muscles screaming as his knees buckled under the pressure.

His anxiety spiked when the puppet's hands — fingers, palms, and all — glowed that same sinister red as before.

If a single finger even grazes me, my head's done for...

Sebastian's feet, like his hands, were encased in reptilian boots that enhanced his lower body strength. Planting himself firmly, he roared.

"Augghh!!!"

With a deep bellow of pain, he forced himself back to his feet — only for the puppet's eyes and veins to flicker the darkest shade of red yet.

The pressure doubled.

Sebastian dropped to his knees in an instant.

Cold sweat dripped down his face as the puppet's fingers inched closer to his head, glowing like molten iron.

With the puppet's mana zone tightly crushing his own, squeezing against his skin like a vice, Sebastian couldn't liquify or separate himself to escape.

If those fingers touch me... I'm dead.

For real this time.

As death neared, Sebastian closed his eyes and calmed himself.

His grimoire flipped to the page where his Gauntlet and Boots of Pontus were etched. More text inscribed itself below, filling the entire page.

From mere gauntlets and boots, Sebastian gained the Armor of Pontus.

His legs, arms, shoulders, chest, back — even his head — were now encased in reptilian-scaled armor. His helmet, more like an aquatic crown, gleamed atop his head.

His fingernails and toes sharpened into bestial points.

When the puppet's glowing red fingers pressed against his head, something melted.

But it wasn't his skull — it was the top of his helmet liquefying, sizzling away under the heat.

And then, Sebastian slowly rose to his feet once more.

His bones cracked and mended in real-time, a relentless cycle of breaking and repairing. Blood welled, wriggled, and burst from his veins, pores, and muscles — only to be instantly replaced, healed as fast as it was lost.

He kept rising, back straightening, until his body no longer creaked, no longer broke.

The puppet's arms, once pressing him down, were now shoved upward — forced back above his head.

Sebastian's cold gaze locked onto the puppet's crimson eyes.

He opened his mouth wide. Water coalesced within, forming a perfectly concentrated droplet.

And then it shot forward — a narrow, precise jet — angling upward at a near 45-degree angle, aimed dead center at the puppet's face.

Although Sebastian's mana zone had been reduced to a frail mana skin — and any spell leaving his territory risked being seized by the puppet — his attack was too fast, too sudden, and the space between them was too short.

The puppet had no time to wrestle control over the spell.

It had only one option — to evade.

Sebastian's pupils dilated as he watched the puppet turn silver, its white form liquefying into that same molten metal that had formed its body.

The water jet shot harmlessly through the gap — a self-made hole — missing entirely.

The liquid metal slithered backward like a living stream before reforming into its chubby, flabby body once again.

Sebastian blinked, baffled.

Did this guy just steal my move?

"Hah..." Sebastian sighed.

He was tired. Exhausted.

It felt like he was fighting a ridiculous, losing battle.

He wanted to quit — but he couldn't.

This was a fight to the death, and there was no way out. Whatever that mysterious voice had spoken about before — about finding a way to wrestle back control of his life and fate — didn't matter to him anymore.

Sebastian didn't care about that. He didn't care about anything except going home.

Home to his family. Home to sleep.

So, with barely 20% of his mana left, Sebastian clenched his fists, grit his teeth, and locked in.

Faster than ever before, he vanished in a blur — and the puppet did the same.

They met mid-air, fist-on-fist, bones groaning under the force of impact.

But this time, Sebastian's arm didn't snap back like a twig.

His armor held strong, his bones stayed firm, and his muscles didn't falter.

Both were pushed back, skidding across the astral platform. But the moment their heels scraped the ground, they shot forward again — faster, fiercer.

To the naked eye, they were streaks of light — two blurs flashing across the platform, trading blows in a chaotic flurry.

Uppercuts. Kicks. Swings. Tackles. Strike after strike, their battle blurred into a hurricane of violence.

Sebastian didn't bother with long-range spells anymore. The puppet did — firing shot after shot — but Sebastian ducked, sidestepped, or closed the gap every time, forcing the puppet to switch tactics.

Both committed to close combat.

The puppet had the advantage in everything — speed, strength, mana zone — until it didn't.

With each exchange, Sebastian's mana zone — once crushed to a frail skin — began to push back.

At first, it held like a flickering candle against a storm. But bit by bit, strike by strike, it strengthened — battered, forged, and tempered like steel in a forge.

One hundred exchanges later, it swelled from a thin skin to a fragile shell.

One hundred more and that shell thickened, becoming a cocoon.

One hundred more, and that cocoon expanded, blooming into a dome.

One hundred more, and the dome stretched further — solidifying into a powerful shell, nearly the size of the puppet's.

It no longer trembled under pressure.

No longer wobbled like a child's weak knees.

Now it clashed against the puppet's mana zone, pushing back — defiant, solid, unyielding.

Proof that Sebastian's will was his own.

And only he could control his magic and mana.

As all this happened, Sebastian naturally grew faster.

His strikes hit harder. His reactions sharpened. His resilience and endurance strengthened. His control over ambient mana flourished.

Despite being down to about 10% of his mana reserves, he felt like he could keep going for much longer.

He wasn't anywhere near the level of someone who'd mastered Mana Zone or Mana Method — not even close — but somehow, he wielded far more mana than he actually had.

Far more.

And because of that, he could still fight.

The puppet had more mana, more abilities — stronger, deadlier techniques. But like a child, its intelligence was lacking. It barely knew how to wield its own power.

If it had, Sebastian would've been long gone.

But it didn't.

Perhaps it couldn't.

And so, Sebastian exploited that.

When the puppet swung blindly with brute force, Sebastian shifted, twisted, turned — minimizing the damage, redirecting the force.

And every time he evaded, his own strikes found their mark — precise and deliberate, targeting the puppet's joints and weak points.

Again and again.

During some exchanges, Sebastian shot droplets of water into the puppet's circuit-like nerves, hoping to electrocute it from within — but that failed.

The puppet wasn't biological. Those circuits were just design — appearance. The puppet was pure mana, an impressive construct — but a construct nonetheless.

It couldn't be fried.

But it wasn't pointless.

By gradually filling the puppet's frame with water, Sebastian discovered something else — he could disrupt its movement.

He could loosen and tighten its joints, destabilizing its balance. Bit by bit, he started gaining control — using his water magic to tug, pull, and shift the puppet's limbs.

And through that, Sebastian started winning.

The damage he took with each exchange became negligible. Meanwhile, the puppet took heavier and heavier hits.

Dents and scratches appeared all over its body.

Those marks were erased almost instantly by the puppet's strange liquid-metal composition, but Sebastian noticed something — each spot he struck still felt weaker afterward.

More brittle.

The puppet couldn't heal itself like he could — at least, not nearly as effectively.

And so, as his mana reserves dwindled down to about 5%, Sebastian finally began to see signs of victory.

His body screamed in protest. His limbs felt like they might fall apart at any moment. Yet he smiled.

Manic yet bright. Dark yet overjoyed. Pure yet malevolent.

Few things brought more satisfaction than getting stronger.

Getting stronger through battle.

And when that battle felt futile — against something or someone that had been pissing you off from the start — that satisfaction was amplified tenfold.

Sebastian lamented that the puppet in front of him wasn't Lucius.

But then again...

With his current level, Lucius could kill him — or worse, enslave him — in an instant.

So Sebastian pushed those thoughts aside and focused on what was right in front of him.

Victory was within reach.

As the puppet began to bloat — and bloat even more — water seeped from its joints and nerves, trickling down like sweat.

Sebastian knew better than to waste another ounce of time or energy.

Stripping himself of all his Pontus armor — save for his gauntlets and boots — he funneled nearly all his remaining mana into them.

Then, like a bolt of lightning, Sebastian vanished — blurring across the platform at the fastest speed he'd ever reached.

The puppet, swollen like a grotesque balloon, couldn't even register his movement — forget reacting in time.

And then, like a rhinoceros in full charge — or a water cannon under immense pressure — Sebastian shot straight through the puppet's bloated belly, arms outstretched like some Superman-wannabe.

The puppet's body twisted and warped like a donut, but there was no time for it to recover.

Its audio receptors — or whatever it had in place of ears — registered a sound.

SNAP!

Just like before, Sebastian snapped his fingers.

But this time, there was no summoned explosion — no conjured blast.

This time, the puppet itself — filled to the brim with Sebastian's water — became the explosive.

BOOM!

The puppet burst into a geyser of scalding water and steam.

Sebastian collapsed to his knees, panting hard.

"Huff... huff... huff..."

His chest rose and fell violently, muscles screaming in protest as his legs gave out beneath him.

Still, he waited.

He waited, watching the mist slowly fade...

And when it did — nothing.

No scrap of metal. No shattered piece of whatever material that thing had been made of.

There were no remains.

No leftovers.

The puppet was gone — utterly obliterated.

Yet Sebastian didn't smile. He didn't celebrate.

He waited.

And then it happened.

A holographic interface flickered into view before him, displaying a message in bright, glowing text:

Congratulations to Player Sebastian for clearing the death trial!

The Maze of Mystery has now been completed.

Rewards will be distributed soon according to the Player's record and achievements!

Sebastian didn't care about the last part.

His focus was locked on the first two lines.

When he was sure he wasn't hallucinating from sheer exhaustion or desperation, he let out a long, shuddering sigh.

Then, finally, he fell back-first onto the cold astral floor.

He won.

Whatever this twisted, sick trial was — he won.

And hopefully now... he could go home.

He missed his wife.

He missed his kids.

—

Author's Notes:

[1] Goddamn I was lazy yesterday and over the weekend. I was just in no mood to write a fight scene, so I busied myself with my Astelle prompts and other shit.

[2] As always, feel free to join the Discord: https://discord.gg/s3MME8X8ar