Incomplete Awakening II
The moment the golem finished moving into position, it attacked.
No hesitation. No warning.
Its stone foot slammed into the ground, cracking the frost covered stone as it lunged forward with surprising speed. Kain barely had time to raise his wooden longsword and short blade before the first blow came down.
*CLANG!*
The impact rattled his arms to the bone and the golem’s body was far denser than any training dummy. Each movement carried weight, reinforced by the dull glow of the yellow mana core embedded in its chest.
Kain answered with a flurry of slashes but the golem absorbed them all. Its forearms rose in precise, mechanical blocks, the carved manastone plates grinding against the wooden blade. Sparks of friction flickered where sword met stone, but the weapon failed to bite.
Then the golem caught the blade. Its hand clamped around the wooden longsword mid-swing, stone fingers crushing down with terrifying strength. Kain barely had time to react before a heavy kick slammed into his stomach.
“—ghk!”
The impact folded him in half. He tumbled backwards before using the momentum to upright himself as he skid across the ground, breath torn violently from his lungs, vision flashing white as he rolled to a stop. Before he could even recover, the golem threw the sword.
The wooden blade spun end over end through the air.
Kain twisted, barely managing to catch it against his chest before it knocked him flat again. Pain exploded through his ribs as he coughed violently, dropping to one knee.
He grimaced, wiping blood from the corner of his mouth.
“…And this one’s taunting me,” he muttered hoarsely. “Guess they really do know how to provoke.”
The golem advanced again, slow and deliberate. Kain forced himself upright and took position once more before charging.
Each clash ended the same way. A blocked strike, a crushing counter, a punch that sent him flying, a kick that rattled his spine.
His body slammed into the ground repeatedly, bruises beneath his skin, old wounds screaming as new ones joined them. His arms felt heavy, his legs sluggish. Every breath burned like fire in his chest.
‘Get up!’
He did, but only to be knocked down again.
The golem’s movements were efficient as they were brutal, unrelenting. It did not waste energy or grow tired. Each counter was precise, devastating, aimed to break his stance and punish every mistake.
Kain staggered back after another blow, nearly dropping the sword as his fingers trembled. His vision blurred and his breathing came in ragged gasps.
‘This is what I wanted, he thought dimly. Danger...pressure. No room to think.’
Another punch crashed into his shoulder, sending him spinning. He hit the ground hard, rolling onto his back and staring up at the dark sky above the open training grounds.
His body screamed for rest, for surrender, but he laughed softly.
“…Yeah,” he whispered. “This is it.”
He dragged himself back to his feet, every movement slow and painful, wooden sword hanging at his side as the golem closed in once more.
His body was failing, but somewhere beneath the exhaustion, beneath the pain and despair there was something stirring. This time, the night was watching.
----
Pain drowned everything.
Kain staggered back, boots scraping across stone as another blow rattled through his body. His ribs screamed as his shoulder burned. His left arm hung numb at his side, the aftershock of blocking a kick that had nearly taken his head clean off.
His vision blurred at the edges.
“…I can’t,” he muttered hoarsely, saliva tinged with blood slipping from the corner of his mouth. “I can’t faint. I can’t pass out.”
He forced air into his lungs, every breath felt like dragging glass through his chest.
‘I can feel it, something different from strength or aura.’
It was something closer, sharper. The golem advanced again, stone feet cracking the ground with each step, its manastone core pulsing a dull yellow. It raised its arms readying an attack.
Kain’s eyes narrowed as the angle of its shoulders, the slight delay in its right leg, the way its core pulsed before it moved.
“…I’m almost there,” he whispered.
The golem lunged but Kain moved too late. Stone slammed into his side and sent him skidding, his back scraping along the ground. He rolled, barely stopping himself from smashing into a pillar. His arms trembled as he pushed himself up.
“Not yet,” he gasped. “I need more.”
He planted his foot before charging. He screamed in defiance, a raw sound torn from a body that refused to fall apart. The golem answered with speed as it vanished. One moment it was in front of him, the next it was on the left. The movement was too fast to see, a right punch launched toward his skull, stone fist already mid-swing.
Kain did not see it, but he felt it as his body twisted. His hips turned first as his shoulders followed. His feet shifted just enough to let the punch graze past empty air.
And then the world slowed just enough. Kain’s thoughts sharpened into a single moment.
‘This is it.’
The weight of the longsword in his right hand became clear, every inch of its length, every fraction of its momentum. As his twist carried him forward, he angled the blade upward, letting the motion become the strike.
The wooden blade screeched against stone. The longsword carved across the golem’s chest, sparks bursting where wood met reinforced manastone. The impact shuddered up his arms, but he did not stop.
His left arm moved. The short blade, drawn back during the twist, came around his spine in a tight arc as it bit into the golem’s right forearm, carving a shallow but clean cut into the stone plating just below the elbow joint.
The golem recoiled half a step. Kain disengaged instantly, boots skidding as he pulled back, heart hammering violently in his chest. Time snapped back to normal, but he stood there, shaking, chest heaving, sweat and blood dripping onto the stone.
“…Instinct,” he whispered.
Not awakened aura, but something else had answered him. Something that had always been there waiting to be pushed far enough, cornered deeply enough, that it had no choice but to surface.
The golem’s core flared brighter as it raised its arms again.
Kain smiled exhausted.
“…Again.”
And this time, he was no longer just reacting, he was reading.
----
*SLAM!*
Kain slammed into the stone wall with a dull thud. The air left his lungs in a violent cough as he slid down, leaving a faint smear of blood against the cold stone. His legs failed him completely, folding beneath his weight. The wooden blades clattered uselessly across the floor. His breathing was labored as the golem stood several meters away motionless. It was waiting to see if Kain was going to continue.
Kain coughed again, spitting red onto the ground as he tilted his head back, staring at the ceiling.
“…Seven times,” he rasped.
His vision swam, but his mind was painfully clear.
“Out of twenty exchanges…I entered it seven times.”
That world, which was less than half. His chest rose and fell erratically.
“The toll…” he muttered, fingers twitching weakly. “It’s insane.”
His left arm burned with a deep, numbing pain where he had blocked the kick too late. The muscles felt dead, unresponsive. His right shoulder screamed every time he shifted even slightly.
“It’s like I’m dying in real time.”
Blood trickled from his nose, warm against his lips. In that state, instinct drives every action, which demanded more than his body had to give. Each dodge, each counter, each adjustment felt magnified. Three times the effort. Three times the cost.
“My body is working overtime…physically and mentally,” he breathed. “No wonder it feels like I’m burning out from the inside.”
He clenched his teeth.
“And it’s unreliable.”
The realization stung worse than any blow.
“I can activate it…but only randomly. Only when I’m pushed to the edge.” His fingers curled into the stone beneath him. “That won’t save me in a real fight.”
If he had to reach exhaustion first, if he had to nearly die first, then it wasn’t a weapon, but a gamble.
“I need to enter it at full strength,” he whispered. “Not when I’m broken.”
The answer was obvious.
More training, more repetition, more pain. Kain tried to push himself up but his arms shook violently. His body was refusing anymore and he collapsed back against the wall, vision darkening at the edges.
“…Seems this is the end for today,” he muttered, letting his head rest against the cold stone. “If I push any further…”
He did not finish the sentence as he did not need to. Death was not dramatic nor heroic. It was quiet, stupid, and final.
‘Dying from training.’
The thought made him laugh. A breathless sound that turned into another cough.
“…Figures.”
His eyelids grew heavy, but his resolve did not waver.
“No worries,” he whispered hoarsely. “I’ll master this by the end of the week.”
A faint, reckless grin tugged at his lips despite the pain.
“Or die trying.”
He closed his eyes, exhaustion finally claiming him.
“…Either way,” he murmured, drifting into darkness, “I’m not backing down.”
The golem remained standing as if acknowledging the will of the broken human who refused to stay down.
