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Thomas grew stronger with every death, each loss adding a sliver more to his strength. Though he wasn’t leveling up, every bit of combat experience accumulated. Every one of Legia’s attack patterns and weaknesses was etched into Thomas Andre’s muscle memory and mind, and his soul was no exception. The more he visited the Sea of Afterlife, the more solid and sturdy the vessel of his soul became. It was an infinite cycle.
“Let’s fight again, Legia.”
He never seemed to tire.
“Again.”
He never lost heart.
“Legia.”
He simply refused to stop.
[You died.]
[You died.]
[...]
[Try again?]
“Again.”
“Again.”
Eventually, Legia’s patience snapped.
“Damn it! Don’t you get it? No matter how many times you try, you have no chance of winning!”
“So what? That isn’t going to stop me.”
“The hell is wrong with you?!”
The King of Giants was boiling with frustration. This Thomas Andre died over and over again, but never gave up. He always returned for another round, and it was impossible to understand why. Then came the final provocation, one that made sparks fly from Legia’s eyes.
“Oh, I see. Do giants like you avoid fighting entirely unless you’re sure you...
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