Leo decided to go to his rewards instead of dwelling on it.
[Rewards]
He approached the screen.
[Congratulations on a successful Trial, Challenger!]
[Please select one of the following rewards:]
[Equipment]
[Stat Points]
[Information]
[Lottery]
[Redeem Later]
Leo examined his choices, the only notable differences, were the equipment looked a little higher quality, and his stat points went up from .5 to 1.0
Leo considered his options. He thought about getting new equipment, but it was still holding up.
Leo eventually decided on stat points this time. The feeling he got from the insane stat points in each category when he first tried them out were still fresh in his mind.
Leo eventually decided on distributing his stat points evenly between dexterity and agility.
Right now his weapons were too fragile to increase his strength, and he wasn't lacking in the intelligence department either. Also with the recovery room here to heal him back up, Leo didn't need to invest any into constitution either.
While Leo was training his mind couldn't help but drip back to the goblin from earlier.
While he was killing the goblins easily, the blink reminded him. There are other creatures trying to survive as well. Leo could just as easily become like the goblin, only able to blink one final time before succumbing to his fate.
Leo stood in front of the glowing blue screen, arms crossed, deep in thought.
[Stat Points]
[+1.0 Granted]
[Distribute Now?]
[Yes] [No]
"Yes," he muttered, the memory of the blinking goblin head still lingering in the back of his mind like a smudge on glass. Thinking about the next trial wouldn't do him any good until he made the most of the time he had now.
The status screen shimmered to life.
[Stat points]
Strength: 1.42
Stamina: 1.81
Agility: 2.61
Intelligence: 2.1
Free stat points: 0
Leo's eyes hovered over [Agility].
'Let's start with half a point into Agility. Ease into it.'
He dragged the glowing plus sign, tapped [Confirm], and took a breath.
At first—nothing. Just a faint sense of lightness behind his kneecaps. Then his heart gave a subtle thud, like it was bracing for impact before the rest of him caught up.
He tested the waters—first a light walk, then a trot. Everything seemed manageable.
'Not bad… let's try—'
He pushed into a sprint.
The world blurred.
WHAM!
Leo's entire face slammed into the far wall at full speed. There was a wet slap of skin on stone, the sharp crack of nose-on-tile, and the rest of his body pancaked a moment later like a folding chair.
He bounced backward and landed on the floor in a heap—arms sprawled, legs kicked up like a dropped marionette.
He didn't even scream. Just lay there blinking at the ceiling as his brain reloaded like a crashed app.
"…Ow."
His voice was muffled by a mixture of pain, wall-dust, and a small trickle of blood trailing down his upper lip. Slowly, he pushed himself up to a sitting position and stared at the wall he'd just kissed like it owed him money.
He wiped at his face and looked at his hand.
"…I'm bleeding."
Then he glanced back at the stat screen still glowing softly behind him.
[Free Stat Points: 0.50]
He sniffed. Immediately regretted it.
"Okay, no more speed until I figure out how to turn."
It made sense, in a twisted sort of way. Leo had just become nearly 20% faster than he was before—he wasn't exactly sure how the math worked, but it felt like that much, maybe more. His limbs moved before he even realized it, and his body covered space in half the time it used to.
Luckily, the speed boost hadn't come alone. His reflexes had also sharpened, his nervous system adjusting to keep pace with his legs. As he'd rocketed toward the wall, Leo had just barely twisted his body mid-sprint, getting a forearm out in front of his face. The impact had still rung through his bones like a gong, but if he hadn't managed that small adjustment? His nose would've been obliterated, and the wall would've gotten a deeper color palette.
Leo winced at the memory, rubbing the slight ache in his wrist and the fresh wound on his nose and cheekbone. "Not exactly the graceful warrior I imagined," he muttered to himself.
He needed control—absolute control. No more cartoon crashes. No more accidental sprints. And definitely no more surprise faceplants.
He hovered over [Stamina] and sighed. "Let's invest in not dying next time."
He hit confirm.
A warm, mellow pulse ran through his chest. His breathing steadied. His aching bones felt a little more… forgiving. Even his nose—which was definitely crooked now—stopped actively throbbing. There was a sturdiness now, like his body had finally subscribed to basic health insurance.
He stood up and bounced on his heels. Sturdy. Balanced. Still bleeding, but at least he wasn't dizzy anymore.
He paused near the dent in the stone where his nose had made a very permanent introduction.
There was a small, red smear still glistening faintly.
Leo pointed at it.
"You. Stay there. Reminder of my hubris."
He gave himself a little test run—just a slow jog this time—and managed to stay vertical. That alone felt like progress.
"Okay. Lesson learned: speed kills. Or at least it gives you a nose job from hell."
He grinned despite himself. Fast and tanky now.
He took a deep breath and dropped into a squat, deliberately slow. His thighs tensed as he lowered, pausing halfway to focus on how the muscles stretched and resisted, the minor wobbles in his knees as they adapted to the sudden extra torque in his movements.
"Okay… down, hold… up."
He repeated the motion, slower than molasses, his movements careful and deliberate.
Next came lunges, slow as glaciers. Then standing knee raises, toe lifts, shoulder rotations. Every movement was done as if time had frozen and Leo was wading through honey. He focused not just on his limbs, but his breath, his spine, his weight distribution.
'If I don't respect the speed, it's going to kill me.'
Once he felt confident he wasn't going to launch himself through the next wall, he moved on to light footwork drills. At first, even pivoting in place felt like skating on ice—momentum always carried him just a little further than he expected. He forced himself to make adjustments millimeter by millimeter until his balance was sharp enough to stop on a dime without flailing his arms like a scared bird.
When he finally picked up his sword and shield again, he noticed the difference immediately.
The sword came up faster than he remembered. A jab that used to be sluggish now zipped through the air with a soft whistle. His shield moved so fast it almost felt like it was dragging his arm behind it. It was tempting to throw power into his swings and feel the raw speed tear through the air…
But Leo didn't. He reined it in. Control over all else.
Steel was still steel. It didn't care how strong he felt—one mistake and it would cut through him like butter. Human bones were sturdy enough when used properly, but even with increased constitution, Leo had no interest in finding out whether he could block a blade with his forearm.
"No thanks," he muttered, eyeing the edge of his training sword. "You're not biting me today."
So he drilled slow. Then a little faster. Then back to slow. Each swing was practiced with intent, shield raised at the exact angle he wanted. A controlled pivot. A purposeful sidestep. No flourish, no wasted energy.
He lost track of time.
His mind entered that rhythm again: Train. Rest. Train. Sleep. Drink some water. Swing again.
Hours passed.
Until finally, the countdown timer on the wall glowed [05:00:00] and flashed in a gentle warning hue.
Leo wiped the sweat from his face and leaned against his shield. His whole body was warm, steady. A few muscles ached, but it was a clean ache—earned, not reckless.
'I feel as good as I'm going to get. If I push any harder, exhaustion'll just bite me back.'
He took a long breath and nodded to himself.
Leo walked across the familiar sterile room and stood before the door. The same glowing message pulsed gently above the frame:
[Trial 03: Enter?]
He didn't hesitate this time. No deep breath. No drawn-out hesitation.
Leo tapped [Yes] with his knuckle.
A brilliant white light swallowed his vision like the sun cracking open—blinding, endless.
He stepped forward into whatever waited next.
***
The white light vanished, and once again, Leo found himself in the arena.
Same arching walls. Same scorched sand beneath his boots. But this time, the space felt smaller.
Because there were more of them.
Five goblins stood at the far end of the arena—spaced out like wild dogs, pacing, fidgeting with looted blades. One had a chipped shortsword. Another held a wooden club studded with nails. One even had a metal cooking pot on its head like a helmet.
Leo cracked his neck and squared his shoulders.
"Alright, let's make this quick."
The timer counted down.
[00:00.03]
[00:00.02]
[00:00.01]
[00:00.00]
They came at him with snarling confidence.
This time, Leo didn't run away. He charged.
He slipped past the first goblin's swing and slammed his shield into its chest hard enough to hear ribs crack. The second lunged in behind it, but Leo was already moving—his blade flicking up and catching it in the throat.
A hatchet scraped his side, but the goblin didn't get to celebrate—Leo kicked its knee sideways with surgical precision, sent it howling into the sand.
The remaining two tried to flank him, but they made the same mistake as the last batch: they assumed he was fighting at their level.
He ducked the first, rolled under the second, and came up between them like a blade in the dark.
Two clean strikes. One behind the knee, the other straight through the temple.
When the sand settled, all five goblins were dead. Leo was breathing a little harder, sure. But there wasn't a scratch on him that the recovery room wouldn't fix.
While the number of foes were increasing, it almost seemed to be getting easier.
[Trial Complete]
[Returning to Recovery Room]
Leo stepped out of the white light and back into the recovery room.
His feet landed light, almost springy. He rotated his shoulders—no pain, no stiffness. His breathing was calm, controlled. He didn't even feel winded.
Five goblins. That was it? He'd expected something harder.
Leo smirked and ran a hand through his hair, still slick from the faint sheen of sweat. "They really thought that was going to stop me?"
[Rewards Available: Claim Now?]
The glowing blue screen blinked into existence beside the door.
Leo eyed it.
'Equipment. Stats. Information. All of it sounds good right now.'
He stepped toward it, then hesitated. His fingers hovered just above the screen.
But he wasn't panting. He wasn't bleeding. His limbs felt light and responsive. The adrenaline from the fight was still humming in his veins like electricity, sparking along his nerves.
'I'm not tired. Not even close.'
A dangerous idea surfaced.
'Maybe... I don't need the reward right now.'
The thought would've been unthinkable earlier. Back during the first trial, he clung to every scrap of help the system threw at him. But now?
'That last fight was barely a warm-up. I don't want to cool off yet. If I rest, I'll lose my edge.'
His momentum was like a wave—one he could either ride or let crash over him. Leo turned away from the reward screen and strode across the floor.
[Trial 04 – Enter?]
The door pulsed gently, waiting for confirmation. Leo didn't slow his pace. He reached up and tapped [Yes] without a second thought.
"Let's keep this going," he muttered, his grin widening.
The light enveloped him once more.