Vikram saw multiple broken weapons planted into the ground.
Swords, spears, daggers.
There were a plethora of weapons.
Vikram looked around, and his face became instantly grim because he had gotten the instinctive feeling that he had entered the boss room.
And he was not wrong.
"Ahh, another futile attempt," An old man that was clad in thick black armor looked at the red sky and sighed. The old man had sparse hair on the front but had long hair on the backside of his head.
He had a very large Great Sword, even larger than what the [Knight] class had in his hand. Even though his face was all wrinkly, the aura that surrounded him was absolutely terrifying.
Vikram was extremely cautious as he looked at the old man. The old man finally moved, his long and narrow face contorting into an expression that somewhat displayed excitement.
He looked at Vikram, and he had gotten the chills on his spine. He readied his body and mind. His blood churned and boiled, and an aura of savagery emanated from Vikram.
The old man shook his head as he put on his black helmet. "The need to extinguish thy flame had come, no matter how small it is now." The old man picked up the Great Sword with a flick of his arm, and the battle started.
Vikram saw a very long bar of red appear in his peripheral vision, and he looked at the name displayed on it.
[Ravanan, The Village Head]
He was confident now, because he had reached Major Accomplishment in every area available to him. Even though Perfection was the final realm Techniques and Arts could attain, reaching it was like trying to crack stone with an egg.
Very few could comprehend the Laws that underpinned the principles of Techniques and Arts. Even the creators of such skills often failed to grasp the truth behind their own work.
Laws were the hidden threads, the underlying functions of how the universe operated on certain principles. They were the central framework that held the Cultivation System and the Mother System together in a coherent structure.
At least, that was what he'd learned from Kayala and Brunus.
And now, he had touched upon the Laws behind his Techniques. His Axe Throwing Technique resonated with the Law of Power.
Breath of the Crimson Pulse echoed two Laws. Its foundation lay in the Law of Blood, but it reached toward the Law of Reincarnation.
The Ironbreaker's Axe Form also flowed from the Law of Power, but it advanced toward the Law of Battle Intent. A realm of resonance that few even understood.
He had watched many of his peers. None had glimpsed a Law. Not one. While he had only just reached the peak of Major Accomplishment, that alone was enough to brush against the threshold of those Laws.
So yes, he truly believed he could defeat this boss.
Because touching a Law wasn't just a step forward in strength, it was a different realm entirely. And no one else in this building, among his peers, had crossed into it.
Of that, at least, he was sure. Because Kayala and Brunus had told him so.
But in the very next moment, he saw the old man raise his crimson blood sword and swing it toward him.
And just then, a chill prickled across his spine.
'This freaking guy also knows Laws?'
That split-second lapse in caution was all it took.
The sword arced cleanly. A flash of red. A dull pain.
Vikram was split in two.
[You have been slain.]
Thus began the grind. A brutal loop of death and rebirth.
The boss he faced, an old warrior known only as Ravanan, had built his entire being around a single Law. The Law of Blood.
Laws, by their nature, were vast. Even those who barely touched upon them gained incredible benefits. And among them, the Law of Blood offered one of the most loathsome advantages for any foe.
Regeneration.
A severed limb would regrow. A crushed heart would beat again. Wounds closed mid-battle, as if time itself bent around the blood.
Vikram hadn't expected his prediction to be this accurate. Technically, yes, he could defeat the boss. Ravanan didn't possess overwhelming force. Nor did he swarm Vikram with minions. There was no external cheat, just one man, one blade, and one Law.
And yet, that was enough to turn the fight into hell.
No matter how hard Vikram hit him. No matter how deep he cut. The bastard kept healing.
Slashes that should've severed his spine, cleaves that should've ended the fight, it all stitched back together like he was made of living syrup and hate.
It wasn't even death that made this unbearable.
It was the delay.
The dragged-out agony of a fight where victory danced just out of reach. The sheer cockroach quality of the man.
Vikram would have preferred if the old bastard just killed him quickly.
At least then he wouldn't have to suffer this slow, bleeding torture.
Thus, Vikram finally understood what it truly meant for someone to be called a "Boss" in this realm.
Not just a wall. Not just a challenge.
But a test of endurance. A grind of flesh, bone, and soul.
A grueling torture chamber in the shape of a man.
And yet, amidst that suffering, there was something else. A sliver of gain. A path forward.
Breath of the Crimson Pulse.
Vikram had always known this technique held more than just brute strength. It echoed with something deeper. And now, through this endless duel, he began to see it.
The old man, Ravanan, was likely a Knight in his prime. Vikram could see it in his stance, structured, deliberate, precise. The style of someone who had pledged their life to war, discipline, and unshakable conviction.
But most importantly, Ravanan had mastered the Law of Blood.
And with every clash, every sword swing, and every second Vikram survived just a bit longer, he could feel it. The Law whispering to him through pain and death.
It wasn't theoretical anymore.
This was practical enlightenment.
The more he fought, the more he understood the rhythm of blood, the way it surged, the way it healed, the way it rebelled against death.
And that was exactly what he needed.
Because to bring Breath of the Crimson Pulse to Perfection, he needed to touch upon both the Law of Blood and the Law of Reincarnation.
The second, strangely, had come to him by accident.
In this realm of loops, of endless deaths and rebirths, he had stumbled into a strange understanding. Not spiritual, not scholarly—experiential. He had lived reincarnation in its rawest form.
He had died a hundred deaths and returned each time.
And so, the Law revealed itself to him like a long-lost memory.
Now only one thing remained.
To defeat the old man.