I had my doubts this was going to be a quick battle, or even a particularly clean one.

The Orcs and [Delinquents] were treating the wounded from the previous battles, as well as those who hadn't taken well to the Boost they'd ingested in the pursuit of strength were working twice as hard to bring those lying prone and defenseless into the grafted warehouse. Now, they were working to move those wounded from their spaces along the stone ground, ushering them inside.

I caught more than one Orc telling others to hurry on and make space for the wounded within the grafted warehouse, telling them that the 'boss was going to go wild'. I took that as a hint that he was a [Berserker] type, the sort of fighter to lose himself in a battle frenzy and ignore all else. If the Orcs didn't even trust their boss not to accidentally hit them in the midst of battle, I figured it was as good a hint as any.

As the massive Orc leader, Big Tooth, began to take steps towards me, I had to restrain my natural instincts. Everything within me was telling me to back away and run, to lift my metal legs off the ground and scurry back to the alleyways. I held my ground against what might've been my wiser self. I needed to form a battle plan.

Sigura and Wolfheart, the leader of the Chained Wolves, hadn't yet started fighting one another. The two were slowly walking in circles, keeping their eyes locked firmly on their opponent. Both of them had activated their [Mantles], turning them into bright beacons of sunset orange and polished gold. Both of them were Sword Casters adept at close range physical fights, and none of the Orcs wanted the wounded to be around them, either.

Wolfheart had told Cynosure, the white haired Kumiho standing atop the warehouse, not to interfere, but I had my doubts she would sit there and do nothing. I'd need to keep a metal plate above my head at all times in the event that she broke her promise to her group's leader and struck me with that mental Skill again.

I was a little worn out. The battle against Mince and Sharktooth had taken a bit out of me, but compared to how tired many of the other Casters we'd met along the way had been, I was in decent shape. My abilities were primed and ready, but I still felt anxious. Big Tooth knew what I could do, but my knowledge of his abilities were sparse at best.

"[You said that you had knowledge on Big Tooth's abilities? That he used Enhancement Magic? Can you tell me when and how?]" I asked, sending my voice through the [Network], allowing Screen to pass it on to the Don. Now wasn't the time for a conversation, but I needed every hint I could get to have any chance of beating this thing.

"[He fought alongside a group of his people shortly after the Disciples attack,]" the smooth voice of the Don responded, echoing in my head. "[He and his community were being invaded by others that had their homes destroyed in their wake, and supplies were scarce. He led an uprising after his neighbourhood had been taken over by an active Darkling gang. He got that territory back and secured it for his people, taking charge shortly after we stepped down.]"

So this was prior to becoming 'Big Tooth', too? I still didn't fully understand why the Don had given up his seat as the dominant power of the Sova region after the Disciples left, but... that was a conversation for another day.

"[And? How did you know about his abilities?]" I asked, hoping the Don would hurry this up. Big Tooth was steadily getting closer, and I'd need to defend myself soon.

"[Our current [Chef], prior to us hiring him, saw Big Tooth in action, fighting against others for supplies in the broken slums near the Death District not far from there. He was able to fight for far longer than his peers, even after sustaining a number of wounds from multiple attackers. His side was shocked by his tenacity, and he was able to rally others to his side after he refused to go down, ultimately defending his home from the invaders.]"

He defended his home from others, then? Not all too different from my first interaction with his group. Still, the scale and situation were far different.

Judging by what the Don had said, his abilities seemed focused on endurance rather than outright strength Enhancement, but I wouldn't count out his destructive power either.

"[He was new to the Caster scene at the time, and that had been his debut fight. I've been told it was a rather impressive battle, even if it was on a small scale,]" the Don continued.

Endurance. That was a serious pain. Against stronger Casters of a large size, I didn't have many options. I was far better equipped to deal with Human-sized Casters. I could whittle him down with repeated attacks and slashes, but if he was an endurance type he might outlast me in a battle of attrition. Still, I needed to mentally prepare myself for a longer engagement. I had to figure out what he could do before I committed to any proper attack.

The plates hovering in the air began to shift and fly ahead of me. I left one of the rusted plates above my head, just in case, while the others hovered to my side. I set up a three layer barrier of floating plates separating me and Big Tooth. My telekinetic grip on the plates was firm, ready to snap them left or right to block the Orc's weapon swings the moment he made an aggressive movement.

His body exploded with the light of [Mantle], a colour that was white, like ivory. The patterns on the light covering his entire form weren't that distinct, apart from Aera centralised on his arms, stomach, and head, making them appear bigger than they were.

His legs were meaty, but relatively exposed. His [Mantle] didn't guard them as thickly as it did the rest of his body. I might be able to exploit that later. He had a pair of bags hanging at his waist with straps going over each shoulder, too, forming an 'X' over his thick leather armor. They were closed, but that couldn't stop my [Sensory Zone] from slipping in through the cracks.

The contents of both bags were glowing, with one bag holding meat covered in a reddish brown glow. Food that had been cooked, conjured, or augmented by Red Meat, the Big Tooth group's [Healer], and in the other... thick iron balls. Each was about the size of a tennis ball, all holding a simple enchantment. I was no [Appraiser], but they didn't feel like anything special. Still, the fact that they were enchanted would mean they'd be heavier for my [Telekinetic Field]. I couldn't rely on being able to steal them. Even if I couldn't use the items he was carrying for myself, I could try to slice the straps and pull the bags away from him.

The Orc's hand clenched tight around the end of his metal bat as my wall of plates finished forming. He snorted, causing a small puff of white mist to cloud the front of his red snout. The bat in his hands began to glow a deep ivory white. He was using [Sheen].

"Prepare yourself, abomination!" the Orc roared, gripping the weapon with both hands as he began to charge forward, his heavy footfalls loud against the cracked pavement. "First you, and then the Don!"

I braced myself for impact, yet still felt the power behind the strike resonate through my [Telekinetic Field] as that single blow crumpled all three of my metal sheets. He was an endurance type? His power was no joke, even if that was the case. He was a monster at close range.

The typical tactics for beating Sword Casters, those specialised in close range, was to fight in an open space, or an area where one could easily maneuver. It was best to keep them at a distance, whittling them down from afar. In theory, a Wall Caster like me that could control the battlefield was a good matchup against Big Tooth. But... if he could break through my 'control' of the battlefield so easily, I needed to be more cautious. With strength like that, I had no way of holding him down or keeping him away with metal alone, and my body wasn't exactly designed for freely hopping from rooftop to rooftop like Sigura's and Lulu's were.

I had to attack now. If I let him damage and break more metal than necessary, I'd run out of stable material to fight him with. I couldn't let him take the first move and run with it until he beat me.

The metal hands above me began to move, fingers curling down into fists. Four of the silver thread covered hands flew forward, moving at speeds clearly greater than he expected. The four metal fists collided with his stomach, a blow he tried to minimise the effect of by sucking in his gut.

But the fact was that he'd tried to defend himself. I could see the impact rippling through his body, and that it had damaged him somewhat. It meant this battle wasn't completely hopeless, at least. I could work with this.

He swung an arm down, pulling one hand from his bat before swiping two of the hands away. The pair were sent tumbling through the air from the force of the blow, but that too was expected. His arm had gotten too close to my fists. The silver thread around both hands began to unravel, wrapping around the limb like they had around Mince's before him. His eyes widened with surprise as I sent the hands flying back towards his bat hand, trying to pull his ensnared limb around. If I could tether the thin wire around to the other side of his body, I might be able to restrain one of his arms.

He grunted, pulling against the force of my telekinesis as he worked to keep the wire from dragging his arm against his will. But that too worked in my favour. His own strength fought against him, and the wire bit deep into the muscles of his arm as he continued to exert more and more force. Blood trickled down the wire, and I felt relief that this was going so well thus far.

If I injured his arm and he started losing blood, then his power would drop. Endurance or not, he'd get weaker over time, no matter how tenacious he was.

That was how things should have gone. But the longer I pulled at his arm, and the more the twisted loops and coils of wire dug into his skin, the harder he pulled. It wasn't just effort, either. The force of his arm pulling back was getting even stronger. The hands were being dragged back through the air despite putting the full force of my [Telekinetic Field] into the motion.

He brought his arm up reaching forward with his meaty fingers to grab a fistful of the razor wire with his bare hands. The metal dug into his exposed hands, cutting deeper as blood began to spurt from the wound, yet he managed to get a grip. With a strength that he didn't have before, the Orc roared, swinging the wire around as he pulled the flying metal hands with them. With monstrous force, he brought the wire down, slamming both of the hands into the pavement. The force of the smash sent cracks running through both the pavement, and the hands. Shielded as they'd been by Debutante's metal 'costume', he'd still caused damage to the interior.

Endurance my ass. He was as much of a 'power type' as Overcharge or Wolfheart.

"Hmpf. Petty tricks," the Orc snorted, shaking his wounded palm as flecks of blood flew to the pavement. He didn't even look like he'd been hurt. "Wall Casters are all the same. Nothing but running away and childish games."

If he could deal that much damage to my metal while it was armored with nothing but [Mantle] and raw strength, I couldn't afford to let him anywhere near my mech. If 'childish games' kept me alive and well, I was content to remain childish.

"[Call them what you want. Every Caster fights differently,]" I told him, hoping to buy some time with speech through [Telepathy].

"Foolish thing," Big Tooth snorted. "You do not know strength. Not all fights can be won with planning and trickery alone, not when your opponent is far above you."

'Planning and trickery' had been doing a pretty good job of keeping me safe so far, whenever I was stuck fighting Casters like Big Tooth. I was content to stick with what I knew. If anything, I'd need to come up with new forms of 'trickery' to deal with someone like him.

With two of my floating hands smashed against the pavement, I used the other two still near his body to try a different tactic. If I couldn't beat him in a contest of force, I'd just have to try a new 'trick'.

Both of the hands gripped the end of the metal bat he held. As I assumed he would, Big Tooth tightened his grip over the metal, thinking I'd try to pull it away. I tried to spread my [Telekinetic Field] through the metal to pull it away with a greater grip over his metal, but that didn't work. I couldn't get my Aera's influence through the metal tightly enough, not with his incredibly dense [Sheen] flowing through it. It was dense, just as dense as Trainmech's Aera, easily. I wouldn't be able to pull it away from him, which meant that particular childish trick wouldn't work.

But I had other tricks, too. Even if I couldn't pull the weapon from his grasp-

The Orc roared with pain as steam rose from within his palm. I'd been hoping that would be enough for him to let go, but of course this mountain of muscle wouldn't give in that easily. [Heated Steel] ran through my hands and into the bat, turning the club red hot. Even if I couldn't push my Aera through enough to pull it away, sending physical heat through it was far simpler.

"[You call my fighting style nothing but 'foolish tricks', but you'll be beaten by these tricks, Big Tooth.]"

The massive Orc sneered, pulling the bat away from my grasp. He swung the weapon forward, my pair of hands barely dodging out of the way. My telekinesis was still faster than his weapon swings, but that wasn't the worrying part. The force of that swing was even greater than before, if the wind buffeting outwards from the strike was any indication. Had his blows grown even more powerful?

"We will see, abomination," the Orc murmured, gripping even more tightly to the red hot club. It had to have been burning his skin, but he still refused to let go. Stubborn bastard.

What were my options?

I couldn't restrain him with metal as weak as mine, not when he could pull against the full force of two hands and my Ironmaw Spider threads. I couldn't make him drop his weapon either, despite my attempts. I could try and swarm him with all the metal I had, but if I couldn't crush him in one blow, he might break a lot of my metal or leave it inactive. I couldn't risk wasting material when I still didn't know what his true abilities were. I wasn't willing to use the 'Dragon's breath' either, not with the wounded still being carted inside behind him. I wanted victory, but I wasn't willing to burn non combatants to do it. I wasn't that desperate.

Not yet.

I sent one of my flying hands off to the left, hoping to take material from the now defunct Aetherman. The colossus of white metal plates was still lying with its back to the ground and face to the sky, its body stained pink and covered with the goo that Patty had secreted. Gamechanger probably wouldn't mind me using his metal in this situation, but...

It was all infused with his runes and Aera. The metal was incredibly heavy, and it wasn't responding easily to my [Telekinetic Field]. Looked like that idea wouldn't work either.

But...

I felt something inside me. Not inside my body, nor my Soul, but within my mech. Whatever magic Gamechanger had infused this giant construct with felt... familiar. With my [Insight] active, it was even clearer. I felt the Lyridium inside me pulsating. The strange light green metal that I hadn't touched in a few days.

I... I'd forgotten about it for a while, with everything going on. Before, I wasn't sure about bringing it up in case the Don would wish to seize it and rob me of my findings, but... I trusted Shafu. If I could trust the others, too...

If I made it out of this alive, I'd ask Gamechanger about it and figure out what this stuff was.

Not far from the hand I'd sent to scout the corpse of the Aetherman, the air blurred and burned. Unlike the slow battle of Big Tooth and I, Wolfheart and Sigura's battle was vicious. Both were moving fast and hitting hard. Wolfheart's blows were stronger, but Sigura was faster and more dexterous. The two of them fought more like beasts than people, lashing out with swipes and sudden kicks, relying entirely on instinct, reflexes, and sheer battle experience to attack rather than a purely methodical style or way of fighting. It was both frightening and impressive, a sight that made me pray to all the Gods that were listening that Sigura came out on top. I didn't have a hope of beating Wolfheart on my own.

Their battle didn't seem favoured towards one person or the other. Not yet. As fast and hard as they were hitting, I knew Sigura could go faster. The two of them were still feeling each other out.

I needed to focus. Even with [Thought Acceleration], I couldn't afford to waste time. I needed to worry about my own battle.

I couldn't restrain him, or overpower him, and I didn't know his abilities. Despite what I'd heard, a battle of attrition was my best chance at victory. It was a strategy that had worked against other Casters of his type, and it was all I could do until I managed to scope out how his abilities functioned. Even if he was an 'endurance type', I was proud of my own tenacity, too.

I started using the 'Streiphen dome' strategy, creating a ring of floating hands, metal plates, pipes, and blades, all surrounding Big Tooth. They hovered just out of his reach, probing and searching for blind spots. He was a Beastfolk race, meaning I couldn't just rely on anything not in his eyesight to be a blindspot, but I could take this slow and learn how he functioned.

Then, I began the assault, striking him with a storm of blades, one after another.

Compared to Big Tooth, Streiphen was faster. He was far from being a speedster like Sigura, but he made up for that with his sheer durability. Cuts and jabs from blades, blunt impacts to the back of his head, and even strikes aimed at his funny bone didn't seem to even faze him. His arm and leg muscles were tough enough to stop my attacks from penetrating too deep into his limbs, and his stomach flab was thick enough to avoid vital areas being pierced. He was a wall of meat, one that kept swinging harder and harder.

Harder and harder?

Was that just my imagination?

Blood was trickling down my weapons, spraying and dripping from his wounds, staining his clothes and fur with dark brown and red streaks. But... he wasn't getting any slower. He wasn't getting any weaker.

No. More than that. His blows were getting harder.

The sheer wind pressure from his blows alone were evidence of that. Even if he wasn't able to land blows against my nimble steel, his power was growing. It looked like a Direwolf swatting at a group of Flies. Some of the smaller pieces of metal were getting blown backwards from the force even without even suffering a direct blow. It was concerning.

What was worse was his laughter.

Big Tooth didn't strike me as the sort of person to start laughing over simple injuries, and if there was anything I'd learned from the stories I'd read, it was that when the bad guys started laughing while at a disadvantage, it wasn't because they thought they were about to lose. He wasn't one of those Ho, I've finally met someone who can challenge me! people, either. Did he have some trump card? A hidden strategy? I didn't know, and the sinking feeling in my gut was getting more prominent by the second.

Did he need to be injured to a certain point before he used some special ability? Something that would let him expel the damage he'd taken? I didn't see any indication of that. His [Mantle] wasn't getting any thicker, so it wasn't causing the amount of Aera he generated to spike. He wasn't changing much at all, but his muscles shivered or tightened after each slash or blow. It didn't matter where on the body he was getting hit, either. They all moved. It was eerie, but why? My blows couldn't possibly all be heavy enough to cause shockwaves throughout his whole body. I could hit hard with [Telekinetic Field], but I was still just using pipes and bits of metal against a 7ft Orc.

Then, the sinking feeling in my gut finally reached rock bottom.

The theory that felt right given every bit of information I had at my disposal struck me like a meteor falling from orbit. All at once, my metal pulled away from the storm, hovering menacingly around him more in the hopes of intimidating him than actually probing for blind spots. His head snapped around, searching for the next blow. He hadn't been trying to stop my hits at all, he only wanted to retaliate.

He hadn't tried to defend himself.

If I was right, then I'd made a horrible, horrible mistake. I'd been trying to beat him through a battle of attrition, but if his ability was-

"This is where cautiousness gets you, abomination," the Orc sneered, grinning madly as he bared his teeth. "If you do not attack with your full power at once, this is what will happen. I will teach you not to take Big Tooth lightly, monster."

The Orc's hooves cracked the pavement beneath him as he made a sudden, mad lunge in my direction. He was stronger. I needed to defend myself. Five thick plates of metal were layered in front of me, each glistening with an emerald [Sheen].

The Orc roared as his empowered club swung directly into my defenses. Four of the gleaming walls were instantly broken through, and only the fifth managed to avoid being completely destroyed, even with [Sheen]. He'd dented metal with force that went beyond anything I'd ever seen before, even Trainmech and Wolfheart.

I was an idiot. A complete fool that couldn't even put simple pieces together. Why hadn't I seen it earlier? The Don had even given me a damned hint! It wasn't just endurance. His blows had been getting stronger. Not faster, or more consistent, just stronger.

His magic likely developed shortly before or during his 'debut fight', the one the Don spoke of. He'd been thrust into a situation where he'd been shoved out of his home, forced to fight against invaders and rebel against those that would take everything from him for survival. He did what came naturally to him. He'd lashed out.

His ability wasn't just endurance. It was physical enhancement, some form of strengthening that got more and more potent as he took damage and sustained wounds. Now, after sustaining dozens of stupid, pointlessly superficial attacks in an attempt to whittle him down, he was this powerful. It was a simple ability for a simple person.

I wanted to be wrong. I really, really wanted to be wrong, but it was the only theory that made sense. His words had been what truly made the thought click. If I'd attacked without 'cautiousness', as he put it, his blows wouldn't be nearly as strong.

This was his power.

"[I need backup!]" I shouted through Screen's [Network], even as the force of the blow reverberated through my [Telekinetic Field]. "[Are there any Casters around? I need help!]"

"[No Casters are close enough to aid you, but I'm sure you can manage this, Homebound. I'm rooting for you.]"

Asshole! I cursed the Don with every fibre of my being as I began to scurry backwards, trying to reposition the crumpled walls to defend me. He sounded like was still making light of this, even now! Did he really think I had the ability to beat this thing?

My walls were moving slower, but it was their lack of structural durability that made it easy for Big Tooth to bat them aside. He lunged again, swinging the bat down towards my head as I darted to the side, moving as fast as my metal legs could carry me. His strike broke the pavement, sending deep cracks outwards from the blow. He wasn't playing around. Those 'unspoken rules' the Don had adamantly spoke about didn't seem to be on his mind at all. I'd been right in labelling him as a [Berserker] before. It felt as though nothing was on his mind but beating me.

I began to run from the clearing, leaving Sigura and the grafted warehouse behind. She constantly felt the need to reaffirm her strength, so I'd need to put my faith in the idea that she'd be okay. I couldn't beat Big Tooth here, so I had to move.

I was a massive hypocrite. After all that talk with Streiphen about him needing to 'pick his fights well', and then I did this? I was an idiot, one that was in no position to tell my teammates off for horrible decisions made in the heat of the moment. If I just had my [Silent Heart], this would be so much easier. I'd have been able to keep a level head that didn't make inane, irrational, horrible decisions.

I ran, disappearing into a side street as that mountain of muscle and monster bounded after me. Despite his strength and the deep cracks he was leaving in the pavement, he hadn't gotten any faster. Were his power ups conditional? If they only applied to attacks, rather than direct muscle enhancement, that would make this easier.

We were roughly the same speed, but he was an endurance type. I might give out before he did, especially since I didn't have experience running from my enemies, or after them. He lunged again, and I barely pulled a leg out of the way as his bat broke the ground. He charged after me, liberally swinging his weapon around, leaving gouges in walls and smashing dumpsters and abandoned street stalls to pieces whenever they stood in his way.

I couldn't fight him like this. If I tried to chip away at him, he'd only get stronger. My usual strategy of pinning down a creature of his size would be risky, especially since the consequences of him breaking free and attacking me cleanly were so severe. I needed to get to a more secluded area.

He swung the bat for the ground again as if to strike me, even though I'd managed to gain some distance. Even from this far away, I could feel the impact on the pavement reverberating through my mech and onto my body. His sheer physical power was horrifying. The thought that this was what I had to overcome rocked me to my core even more than the strike itself.

I expanded my [Sensory Zone] and [Battlefield Awareness] to the max, sending metal chunks flying outwards in all directions. They flew into houses, rummaged through abandoned dumpsters, and sought out every piece of stray metal they could. My [Honed Vision] snapped from place to place, applying [Heated Steel] wherever I found metal I could graft, take, and alter for my purposes.

Even without my zone, I would been able to hear him chasing me. The sound of his huffing, his intermittent roars, and the cracking of stone beneath each footfall was enough to let me know exactly where he was. Just like me, he was useless in the stealth department.

"Is running all you can do, abomination?!?" the Orc roared, his voice gruffer and louder than before. "The Don's warriors have fallen far!"

I gathered more metal from around me, building up my arsenal more and more, but I needed a miracle. I couldn't keep running like this, and-

The Orc slowed, just marginally. He broke his weak running posture to stuff one of his oversized hands into a bag at his side. He pulled one of the small metal balls, glowing with a silvery light, from within. The glow intensified as an ivory white [Sheen] spread through it.

Before I could even register what he was doing, I'd already erected three [Sheen] empowered plates to act as a shield. He threw the ball with force, smashing right through two of the walls while leaving a deep dent on the third. His hand dipped into his bag again, and I didn't have time to-

He threw another one of his metal marbles. It punctured through the third plate, striking me on the back leg. These Orcs continually targeting my legs was starting to get very irritating. It caused a deep dent in my leg, temporarily throwing me off balance. Would it have gone the whole way through if not for Debutante's armor?

I was starting to slow down. I was still off balance, even if I could keep moving. I had to keep going.

My mech turned, darting around a corner as I tried to put the strain of telekinetic movement on my other three legs. I began to erratically turn and turn and turn, hoping to throw him off, but he followed me relentlessly, moving and chasing like a [Beast Tamer's] bloodhound.

I needed options, and I needed them now. Could I try to find my allies? No. If he joined up with his Orcs, the damage he caused could get worse. I was more well equipped to deal with his strength, but someone like Clever Girl would get pulverised. I couldn't risk it.

Four of my hands flew on ahead of me, ducking into alleyways and past shattered doorways. Out of sight, they crisscrossed from side to side, forming a wall of Ironmaw thread that went slack, near invisible on the road below.

I didn't want to do this, but I didn't have much of a choice. I pushed myself onward, feeling a heavy strain in my Soul as I pushed my Skills to their limits. I ran over the threads and had the hands pull themselves backwards.

Big Tooth charged down the street, running directly into a near invisible glowing wall of [Sheen] empowered threads burning red hot with [Heated Steel] pulled taut. Deep cuts sprouted out all along his body, his own momentum having been used against him. They were serious wounds, potentially fatal, but I didn't have much of a choice. This was life or death. That might've been enough for any regular creature, but Sword Casters were often sturdier than most, and he was sturdy even among them.

The Orc roared with pain and rage, stepping backwards as the wires dripping with blood slid out of his body, taking small chunks with them. He swung his bat down along the threads, instantly breaking the entire wall. It had been enough to stall him, and I hadn't expected to knock him out with that. Still, it had been enough to buy some time, and that was all I'd been looking for.

In that time, I'd managed to use excess metal and my [Heated Steel] to fix the dent he'd left in my leg. It was a shoddy job, and my body still felt lopsided, but I could at least properly handle my own weight and four limbs now. I needed a plan for-

A massive shadow covered my mech. I felt my thoughts grind to a stop as my attention focused on the space above me. Two dented sheets of metal empowered by [Sheen] rose into the air to shield me from a massive block of concrete ripped straight from a building, one that was thrown directly at me.

The stone broke against the sheets, showering me with debris and a cloud of dust before I pushed the weight off of my metal. Big Tooth's strength was monstrous.

Moving my zone as I continued to run, I saw him stop for a moment to dig his fingers into a wall, ripping the entire front section of what used to be a daycare center from the rest of it. Again, he threw, and again, I blocked.

We weren't even on the same street and he was hitting me. Did taking damage improve his senses, too? He had good aim for an Orc. He began to run again, ripping another chunk from a building as he passed by. A cloud of dust rose into the air as the building he took from collapsed behind him. He lifted the chunk, which was nearly as big as he was, high above his head.

Horror dug their claws deep into my heart as I watched the base of the rubble begin to turn ivory. Even as bits of dust and chunks of cracked stone fell from the makeshift boulder, it was massive. The [Sheen] spread a quarter of the way up before stopping. Big Tooth panted for breath, throwing the concrete to the side, destroying another storefront in the process.

I gave my thanks to all the Gods that were listening that he hadn't thrown that at me. If that had hit me... He didn't have the Aera to coat something that huge. Thank the Gods for that.

Even if he couldn't throw a [Sheen] enhanced boulder at me, I was still in a difficult spot with no way out.

Could I make a new weapon with my [Creative Process]? No. I didn't have the time for that, not when I didn't have people to protect me or cover for me until I finished. Even if it decided to work instead of being difficult like it had been for the past few days, which was unlikely, I'd go into a trance while working. If I did something like that alone, I'd be nothing more than a punching bag. I couldn't risk it, not even while hiding, not while his senses were so potent.

I was gathering more and more metal, but it still wasn't enough. I didn't know what would be enough, or if any amount of metal could fend this monster off, but I had to keep trying. I needed everything I could get.

At the forefront of my zone, a familiar building entered my awareness. Warehouses. The buildings that Streiphen had stolen food and water from back when we were squatting in Dronrowth. I felt horrified at the thought that the Orc guards might still be there keeping watch. I prepared myself to turn down another street, just in case, but gave it a quick sweep, sending my zone through open windows and around corners, searching in ways that conventional senses couldn't match.

It was abandoned.

The guards watching over the place must have heard the sound of the fighting and ran off to help. I was glad. I didn't want to have his backup cornering me or stalling me long enough for Big Tooth to land a decisive hit, but this was a chance.

My mech burst free from the side street, running into the clearing around the warehouses. I passed over paths carved for wagon use, moving as fast as I could. My four metal hands flew ahead of me, throwing open the doors to the buildings. They didn't seem locked, either. I was still waiting for the hands that had created a wall of threads to reach me again, so I was leaving myself without metal hands to defend myself. This was worth the risk. I hoped.

If the Gods were looking down on me, they'd make sure that these warehouses had what I needed. I prayed to the Glittering Fortune to give me some modicum of luck, to let these buildings be where Big Tooth kept their supply of swords and metal armor. I needed all the metal I could carry.

Once the doors swung open, I swept over the entirety of the warehouses, scanning with my [Honed Vision]. The first warehouse had nothing but food. Meat, vegetables, packaged food, and liquids all stored within containers. Some were within Cooler Boxes enchanted with Property Magic and Ice Magic to keep them cold. An assortment of herbs and plants dotted the warehouse too. Likely not edible, and probably for alchemical use.

Useless.

My awareness snapped to the second warehouse, my mind praying. Piles of wood and stone. An assortment of building materials and-

Big Tooth roared, bursting free from the alleyway as he finally caught up to me, bounding into the open clearing. I continued to scurry forward, putting as much distance between me and him as I could. I didn't have many plates left for defense, but I needed to give myself every advantage I had.

The panicked sound of Horses neighing and Moas squawking reached my zone. Next to the warehouse, I saw an abandoned wooden stable with mounts that had been clearly set off by Big Tooth's arrival. I hoped they wouldn't jump out of their pens, not while-

He threw another pair of [Sheen] coated metal balls. I sent all four of my remaining intact sheets behind me, using them to block the strikes. Using [Sheen], especially so quickly on multiple objects at once, was beginning to really take its toll. As hard as it was to keep them active, I had to force myself. I couldn't risk taking another hit, not from someone like Big Tooth.

The sheets took dent after dent, and I brought one hand out from the first warehouse, using it to break the front of the stables. After breaking some of the locks, the panicked Animals did the rest, kicking down the gates before sprinting out, darting away into the adjoining alleyways. I didn't want them caught in the crossfire, especially if I had to use my trump card against him, too.

When the barrage of metal balls ceased after I took a hard left, running around the warehouse, I was able to devote my attention to the contents of the second warehouse.

Building materials. Wood. Stone. Useless. My hands furiously began popping open crates, or pushing the lids of boxes up just enough for my zone to squeeze through. There were no weapons or armor here, but-

Metal.

My [Honed Vision] locked onto it instantly. A cluster of crates near the back were full of construction tools. Pickaxes, hammers, saws, more. This was what I needed.

While I circled the warehouse with Big Tooth in tow, my hands went to work, darting between crate to crate as they applied [Telekinetic Field] and [Heated Steel] to entire box loads at a time, spreading my influence from tool to tool through metal contact.

There were a lot of tools here, likely for whatever form of reconstruction they'd either used on their base or these warehouses, or that they'd been planning to use for something else. It didn't matter. Metal began to melt en masse, telekinetically pulling itself free from the useless wooden handles. I began to shape and mold it, bringing thick chunks of metal together. There was a lot here, and-

Two crates at the back of the hall. Both filled with thick metal sheets. I felt a surge of relief wash through me, but did it even matter? Having more metal to defend myself with meant nothing if I couldn't beat Big Tooth. I spread my influence more and more. Gathering, melting, molding. My Skills were beginning to strain even under the weight of nothing but metal as I collected and manipulated more than I had in a long time. I'd never felt metal get this heavy on its own before, but-

Something was sent soaring through the air far behind me. I raised my weakened plates to block the small metal marbles, only to find that the object broke through all of them in an instant.

My thought processes ground to a halt even as the weapon continued to fly mid-air. How?

I tried to spin my body around, hoping to dodge the powerful projectile. I couldn't turn in time, not while carrying so much metal elsewhere. The attack smashed through two legs on the right side of my body, punching right through Debutante's costume.

I braced myself for impact as my mech lost its balance, skidding along the pavement. Sparks rose from the space where metal met stone, and an ear piercing scraping noise ripped through the air. My body was jostled around within my helmet, and I felt the warm sensation of blood spilling out from wounds, mixing with the copious amounts of sweat within my helmet. Sigura wasn't going to be happy with that.

My awareness snapped to the weapon he'd thrown, offhandedly registering that he'd thrown his metal bat at me as I tried to move. My [Telekinetic Field] poured its energy into lifting me and the mech on two legs, but I couldn't. My body fell back towards the ground with a crash. I tried to drag myself around a corner as Big Tooth got closer. He'd thrown it from a long distance and still managed to strike me so precisely. What an annoying ability.

I couldn't pull myself, not even with two legs and the power of my field. As much as I needed to move, I couldn't spare the effort. It was horrifying, being a stationary target against someone like Big Tooth, but I didn't have much of a choice.

The four hands that had created a wall of threads returned to my side, even if it was far too late. I had to gamble. I used the hands and the dragging of my legs to turn my mech around, facing towards the Orc as he charged towards me in a reckless stampede, smashing the pavement with every step. My rose faced towards the Orc. Homebound and Big Tooth. I carried the responsibilities of Equinox with me, and the rose reminded me of that.

Two more hands flew out from the first warehouse, joining the four that had arrived at my body. I sent one hand over to the metal bat, hoping to throw it away or use it myself. It wasn't far from my body, but it was still unbearably heavy from the weight of his infused Aera. It still hadn't been worn out of the metal. Moving it further away wasn't worth the expended effort.

I... I had to form a checklist. A-

I needed to survive. That was all I could do.

Six hands positioned themselves in front of my body, all forming ring symbols using their thumbs and forefingers. Six [Ignites] activated in unison as the panels on the front of my mech popped open. The fans began to turn wildly, creating a [Blast of Air] as they came to life.

This wasn't going to do the health of my Soul any favours, but I needed power. I needed time.

Two gigantic gouts of flame enveloped Big Tooth. The monstrous Orc roared in pain, gritting his teeth as skin and open wounds burned with an intense heat. There wasn't anyone around to be hit by the collateral damage, and the panicked Animals had all fled. Nobody was at risk of being hit by my 'Dragon's Breath'.

After only a few seconds of constant casting, I lost the energy to keep the flames going. I didn't have much left in me, but I needed to use all I had in me wisely.

Big Tooth stumbled forward, falling to one knee as he panted loudly. He didn't even bother to pat down the flames stuck to his charred black fur and ripped leather armor for a few long seconds. Then, he stood up again.

He was tenacious, but not invincible. Him falling to one knee was a reminder that he wasn't immortal, just incredibly tough.

Big Tooth sucked in a lungful of air after the fire had been extinguished, his gut inflating as he shook side to side. Then, the last of the flames feebly clinging to him died away.

He let out the air he'd sucked in with a single motion, fixing his bright brown eyes on the helmet of my mech.

"Do not underestimate an [Orc Lord's Tenacity]. Is that the best you've got, abomination?" he asked, his voice haggard even though he was still standing.

"[Yeah, it is,]" I lied.

"You cannot run anymore," he replied, glancing towards my shattered legs with victory gleaming in his eyes.

"[Way to state the obvious, genius,]" I quipped.

I'd picked up bad habits from Shafu, but I wasn't feeling nearly as bad about the insult as I thought I would. I... I might die here, which was horrifying in its own right, but... but...

I didn't feel nearly as terrified as I thought I would.

I was facing possible death. I had things I cared about and would be leaving behind, but the pain of death wouldn't bother me. Big Tooth couldn't do anything to me that would outdo what the vat had already done.

He snorted, flexing his meaty fingers before walking towards me. Now, his movements were leisurely. Casual. Assured of victory.

Overconfident.

An enormous shadow passed over the Orc as I hit him with everything I had left. It was a metal club, one that was far more jagged and haphazard than the weapon he'd used against me. The craftsmanship was shoddy, but the weapon was formed from all of the metal I'd gathered from the warehouse. Quantity over quality.

He winced from the force of the blow, stumbling forward from the strike of a weapon that was over half the size of his own body and greater in weight, too.

Four of my flying hands shot towards the comparatively small glowing bat he'd used against me. I couldn't pick it up, not with the weight of his Aera still embedded within it, but I could roll it away. I could do everything in my power to make sure he didn't pick it up again.

I had to attack. I couldn't just sit here and let him reach me. He'd get stronger with each blow he took, but what choice did I have? I had to push him down and strike him so hard that he couldn't get back up and make use of his magic. If he's an endurance type Sword then I'll just have to hope he survives. I didn't have the freedom or luxury of being cautious, not while I was completely immobilised and he'd made no attempts to tone down the lethality of his blows.

It was a stupid plan, a brute force attempt that went against all of the strategies I'd employed before. But what else could I do? If he wanted a proper fight, he'd get one. I was all out of tricks.

I wasted no time, curling the flying, mangled bat around in an arc, this time striking from below, smashing it into his chin as his head was knocked upwards. Durable as he was, he was still being struck by a gigantic mound of metal. My [Telekinetic Field] had an easier time swinging metal around than flesh and bone did, even with how much metal I was moving.

He looked dazed, trying to blink rapidly to return to his senses. I didn't wait for him to recover. My four hands flew away from the bat, coming close together as they flew towards the Orc, striking the back of his knee in unison, timing it with another strike of my improvised, lumpy bat.

I was taking inspiration from Streiphen's strategy. It was probably an idea he'd gotten from Sigura, but it worked here, too.

He stumbled, but refused to fall to one knee, even when the damaged limb began to shake. The silvery threads surrounding each of the four hands snapped out, caught in a telekinetic storm as I quickly wound them around the leg. As one, they tightened, causing a multitude of deep cuts to slice into his leg. Big Tooth opened his mouth to roar in pain, and I shut him up with another strike of the club to his chin, not giving him even a second to breathe. If he couldn't get to his weapon and I kept this up, I might be able to-

Pain. A pulse of pain that washed over my entire body. Uncomfortable throbbing sensations rippled along my flesh, coming from deep within. It was a headache, one that had come on suddenly. I knew it couldn't have been a coincidence. I was overtaxing my Soul, and now I was beginning to pay the consequences.

Soulburn.

I knew it could have lasting damage and consequences, but I didn't have much of a choice. Capillary wouldn't have approved of me pushing myself this hard, not with how my Soul was, but it was either that of having my body squished to a pulp. As little as I cared for my real body, it was my only tether to life. I needed to look after it. With how angry he was getting, I couldn't exactly put my weapons away and apologise either. It was do or die. I've had enough of not doing, and dying wasn't on my to-do list either.

One of the monster's meaty hands coiled around one of the metal marbles in his bag. I'd been too focused on making the damn club that-

Two [Sheen] enhanced walls that had been hastily formed in front of me weren't enough. The marble smashed through them, striking the coloured rose at the forefront of my mech. I felt the attack rattle through my entire body as chunks of the broken rose fell to the cracked ground beneath me. The impact had caused the metal jabbing into the lump of meat I called a body to jostle further. Not even a direct hit, and the bleeding had gotten worse. Even with all of the metal armor and woven threads I was surrounded in, my real body was just... fragile. Helpless, on its own. All the more reason to fight hard and protect it.

Stupid. I have to focus! Multitasking was getting harder with the pulses of pain running through my body, but I had to keep fighting.

With the help of my [Telekinetic Field] and [Heated Steel] being pushed to their limits, I began to reform the lumpy club into a misshapen hand. The huge, elongated fingers coiled around the Orc like Snakes, a trick stolen from Bubblegum's book. Binding him with metal wouldn't work for long, not on its own. With his thrashing muscles working as hard as they could, I felt the metal beneath start to crumple, even without leverage to swing his limbs and make proper attacks. It didn't matter. I had to use everything I had.

My threads wrapped around his leg wrenched left and right, digging in further and further as blood spurted from the wound. Finally, he fell to one knee as his leg was no longer able to support him. I took the opportunity to have parts of his 'cage' reach forward, two miniature coils forming on the inside to rip the two bags from his waist before expelling them onto the outside. The 'thumb' of the warped hand I'd formed took the former role of the club, striking his head over and over with a mass of metal.

He wouldn't make it out of this without a cracked skull or broken nose. Even if I lost the battle and my life here, I was going to make him fight for it. I was going to make him take me seriously.

The Orc was panting hard, but let out another roar of rage, a raw, primal sound, as his thrashing grew in power. The mere sound of the roar shrook my body. Had his lungs benefitted from the strength boost too? It sounded like he was intent to roar until his throat was completely raw. I tore into his leg once again to keep him down, shutting him up with a claw and a metal clamp on the base of his jaw, empowering it all with [Heated Steel] as his skin began to sizzle.

Ideally, I'd use [Sheen] for the restraints, but I didn't have the Aera left to coat that much. On top of the pulsing and pounding within my body... I wasn't going to last much longer.

But... I was proud of my endurance, too.

His strength wouldn't matter if I kept hitting him, kept pinning him down. I could outlast him. I could do this.

The Orc worked to push his hands outwards, crumpling through layers of steel as though they were made of paper. He was a monster, capable of dealing that sort of damage even now, giving himself room to maneuver his arms and perform greater strikes even while inside the malformed coffin of steel I'd crafted around him.

Would his strength reset if he was knocked unconscious? If I took him down, would I be able to leave his capture to others?

He still wasn't going down. He had no projectiles, not since I'd had both of his pouches ripped away from him, and his hands were still bound.

Despite the fatigue wracking my body and the pulsing pain permeating my very being every few seconds, I felt... vindicated. His expression was furious, and part of me relished that I could go against such an opponent, especially one that had thought so little of me.

"[H-how does it... f-feel to be beaten by the childish t-tricks of a person who can't e-even m-move? Big Tooth?]"

The delivery was awful, and I knew I'd need to get Shafu or Sigura to help improve my quips if I made it out of this alive. Still, as shaky as my voice was, there was no hint of doubt or worry in my words. They were determined.

I understood now, what the Don had meant by confidence being important. I was in a horrible position and felt silly making a comment like that in my condition, but... it brought with it a sense of pride and strength, flimsy as it was. A sense of purpose that gave me the will to push through the pain, one born from the knowledge that I was able to push a gang leader controlling territory in a Scandian city this far.

"I'll kill you, abomination!" the Orc roared, his voice ragged and furious as another strike from my 'thumb' smashed against his head.

I was fairly sure that no bad guy who'd ever said that actually managed to kill someone.

"[Y-you can't kill a-anyone... b-bound like t-that...]" I responded, my voice twitching in time with the pulses of pain.

Why did I say that? I'd just laughed at him for saying something stupid, and now I'd tripped a flag. Great job, Yuri, real-

His attack was something I couldn't have predicted. He was on one knee, trembling beneath an iron coffin that was being beaten to a pulp on the inside, his arms unable to pull free. Even then, he was a powerful Caster. If I was resourceful enough to make use of everything I had at my disposal, others could too.

With the Orc's enhanced strength on attacks, he dug the teeth into his lower gums, ripping through the skin as blood spurted from the wound. I sat there, warm and surrounded by blood and pooling sweat, my mind in absolute shock, unable to comprehend what he was doing. Ripping his gums apart, he pulled free one of his two oversized tusks as the metal clamp bent and broke. It began to glow with the ivory coating of [Sheen]. In the instant before my club connected with his head, I saw a flash of ivory explode from his mouth as he spat the empowered tusk at me with the force of a [Release].

What insane power. It was a joke.

When would I learn? If I didn't fully restrain and disable people, resourceful fighters would find a way to attack. To hurt me. First Mince, and now Big Tooth.

The tip of the tusk cut straight through the three [Sheen] empowered plates in front of me, piercing the front of my helmet and cutting deep into the front of my fleshy body. [Pain Resistance II]? I might as well have not had the Skill at all, for how intense the sensation of pain rippling through my body after impact was.

Unable to hold it in, I began to scream in pain through [Telepathy], a sound far less filled with fury than the Orc's own roars. The sound of his laughter was far away, barely audible over the sound of my own mind and pulsing skin.

I wanted him to feel the pain I did. He was laughing at this. The club struck the top of his head with far more force than I knew was healthy for both of us. The sensation caused pain to ripple through me, a pain I couldn't express in any way through my body, not with tears, or sobbing, or clutching at the wound. All I had were my Skills.

My Soulburn intensified, and I didn't care. I wanted him to feel this.

I roared as I struck again, hitting him over and over as the heat within the metal soared to new heights.

I wasn't Yuri the strategist anymore. Yuri the [Tinkerer]. Yuri the member of the Velvet Star, a group that wanted to be confident, elegant, and proud in how they conducted battle and showed their superiority to the city.

I was an animal, and so was he. We were just two vicious things fighting out of a desire not just to win, but to make the other person hurt. I wanted him to feel what I felt, and I suspected he felt the same, if that mad, bloodshot look in his eyes were any indication. There was nothing elegant about our roars. Nothing to be proud of.

My pain resistance felt useless. I tightened the metal as hard as I could, and heard something creaking. It could have been metal, or it could have been bone. I knew which one I wanted it to be, but I didn't know which would be stronger anymore, nor who would give out first. I just had to squeeze and slash and swing and pray.

The pulsing was getting stronger now, the roar in my head mixed with the ringing sound and the rippling pain, forming an incomprehensible mess that no coherent thoughts were able to pierce through. I didn't know what I was doing. I knew nothing but pain, and the methodical use of my Skills that were doing their best to express that, serving as an outlet that my real body couldn't match.

I had no way to know what was happening anymore. I just had to keep fighting.

Was this what it was like, when Casters got 'lost' in battle? When they didn't think about anything beyond survival or victory? When the outside world felt inconsequential and distant?

Blood pumping. Skin rippling. Soul pulsing, throbbing, and hurting.

I had to pour all of myself into this, or I wouldn't make it out. I felt as though my mind was tearing apart, but I didn't want to die. I didn't want to lose.

So I kept fighting. I kept attacking, even after my senses deserted me.

Strike after strike after strike after-

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Darkness.

Where was I? My body still throbbed with pain. Had I...? Had I blacked out? There was no roaring or screaming anymore. Just the sound of blood dripping. From me. Streams of it. Crimson. I pushed with all my might, sending my [Sensory Zone] outwards. My [Telepathic Field] had long since fallen, and even though my Soul screamed at me to stop, I had to check. To know if I was safe.

I saw him. Lying on his side, wrapped in metal fingers in a pool of his own blood. He wasn't moving. Did I win?

...

Was he alive? How could I check?

I sent my [Telekinetic Field] forward, and felt my Soul practically stab into me, sending lances of pain through my body as my head pulsed. I couldn't control it. Not that much. Could I move a single, smaller hand? Another pulse of warning. Still too heavy.

It needed to be lighter. Strand by strand, I began to unravel the Ironmaw Spider thread from around it. I left it atop my mech, paying no mind to the blood it was being left in. Now that it was lighter, I could lift it. This, and only this. I sent it flying forward, towards the Orc's mangled, beaten head. But how could I check? My metal couldn't detect breath, or heat, or-

Stupid. I was an idiot.

Metal fell against stone as I dropped the hand, letting my [Telekinetic Field] rest. Instead, I used my [Heat Sense], checking him for any signs of life. He was still warm. But was he alive?

Pulling my [Telekinetic Field] from its rest with reluctance, I made the small hand rise again. It flew to his head, lifting a single dark brown eyelid crusted with blood. I gingerly pulled it up, glad I didn't accidentally poke his eye out. He was definitely unconscious, but...? Was he alive?

I didn't know.

Pain lanced through me, and the hand fell from my grip. This time it let out a resonant bang, falling against the warped coffin of metal I'd encased him in. I tried to move the hand, but found that I couldn't. Even that was too heavy, now. I'd been immobilised.

I wanted to sleep, but the pulsing wouldn't let me. I needed rest, but something was in the way.

I still had a massive tooth stuck in my head. A hard lump of tusk plugging up a large wound at the forefront of my form. Should I try to pull it out? No. That would make the blood spill out more, too. I didn't want more blood getting out. It was starting to pool around my mech, too, staining the rose. I couldn't even move a hand to protect the rose from getting dirty, either. It looked strange. Out of place.

So did I. Amidst a sea of metal, poking out behind rended bronze and emerald thread were bits of pink flesh, visible from the outside. They were stained with blood, but visible all the same.

I looked strange. Even more strange than usual, if that was even possible. Like I was a Unicorn or something. I thought of Streiphen, once the thought of a Unicorn had come to mind. Maybe he would've found the humor in this too. No... He wouldn't. Stupid. Why was I thinking like this? Was I feeling delirious from blood loss? Probably not. It wasn't like asinine thoughts like this didn't enter my head while I was perfectly fine, too. It was just another pollutant in my mind alongside emotions and dreams.

Who even won this fight, anyway? Could I even call this a 'victory' when I was left as bloody and drained as my opponent? Even worse? I couldn't remember clearly, but had he fallen unconscious before I had? I'd been hitting him, over and over again, and...

It didn't matter. I put him down. I couldn't move either, but that was a technicality now. I beat my opponent, didn't I? Surely that was enough.

I hoped the others were okay. I'd done a good job, holding out and beating my opponent like this, and... I'd... I-I'd earned some rest. Some real rest. I just wanted to go home. Back to my room. Our room. The base. The Velvet Star. Home.

The pulsing was receding. Was I healing? No. Stupid. The darkness was just creeping in, coming to give me some relief from the pain.

I felt my mind slipping, sliding from somewhat sensible albeit painfully polluted thought into a scattered, blurry mess of incomprehensible ideas and worries.

Then, there was nothing.