Seated cross legged on the wet cave floor, Leon's figure was outlined by blood.
It seeped from him slowly, not rushing, just leaking from the cuts and gashes that decorated nearly every visible patch of his skin.
His robes were ruined.
His breathing was measured.
[Slain guards 20/20. Proceed to the next stage?]
,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Within a period of five hours, Leon had fought through five full waves of serpentine guards, every single one of them seated at the transcendent stage.
They had been mechanical, yes. Lacking in the kind of lived experience that made a fighter truly dangerous. But each of them had carried the force of a mountain behind every movement. A blocked strike felt like stopping a falling boulder with bare hands. A graze from one of their spears left bone-deep marks.
Five waves of that.
And Leon had walked through all of it.
What kind of situation had he never been in before?
His mind was calm.
