Alista Tudor stood once more near the inner circle, the memory of his second gruesome death—coordination between the hunter and the giant—fresh and sickeningly vivid. He had to stop the pattern.
"The poison seems to be quite effective on the giant," Alista summarized, recalling the beast's momentary weakness. "And the Slayer, Orphne, hasn't struck any traps. That means the wire traps are technically useless, or I need to find a way to use poison everywhere."
He moved to the temple's improvised armory, scanning the collection of salvaged weapons: swords, arrows, rapiers, and glaives.
"Maybe I can use this," Alista muttered, grabbing a set of thick wooden planks and ropes.
After a focused period of frantic construction, he had built a massive, makeshift crossbow, strapping various spears and halberds to its stock as large projectiles. The mechanism was surprisingly complex, held together by ropes and tension.
"This should do," Alista declared, coating each projectile with the remaining poison. "Luckily, there was a pre-existing setup for this." He had utilized the natural curvature of nearby trees to craft the body of the crossbow, shaping it into a huge, trumpet-like device that could be mounted near the entrance. "I'm lucky I had experience crafting basic tools in the forests in my previous life."
With his new weapon ready, Alista climbed to the highest accessible floor inside the temple, near a broken window, to act as a scout.
He peered out into the forest. "Where are you?" he whispered, his eyes narrowing.
Then he saw it—a huge, fiery silhouette moving purposefully among the trees. "There you are."
He immediately descended to use the makeshift crossbow. But as he rushed toward the weapon to steer and shoot, he froze. The wooden components had been broken, snapped cleanly in two. The weapon was useless.
Alista had meticulously checked the crossbow to ensure it was structurally sound. His voice dropped to a cold, dangerous whisper. "She is here."
The chilling realization of her stealth was immediately followed by a terrifying warning from his [Instincts]: danger from his left side.
Alista executed a frantic, instantaneous dodge, barely twisting his body out of the path of a sword that whistled past and almost cut his neck.
He turned to face her. Orphne stood there, holding a curved sword in her right hand, her expression one of focused, predatory frustration.
"Lucky brat," she observed, her voice flat.
Alista, knowing he was hopelessly outmatched in skill, used his [Lawyer] attribute to provoke her, aiming to disrupt her professional cool. "So, tell me, what do you want?"
"Your death, War Mongrel," Orphne replied, her eyes cold.
Alista gave a short, cynical laugh. "I'm neither flower boy nor A simp, you know."
Orphne tilted her head in genuine confusion, her hunting focus momentarily disrupted by the strange phrase.
Alista pressed his advantage, injecting pure, calculated arrogance into his voice. "Don't worry, bitch. It's too early for you to know about your future master, and he is in a War Realm." He was referencing Sunny, trying to trigger a reaction that only she, the shadow, would recognize.
Orphne's confusion vanished, replaced by a surge of white-hot rage. She immediately launched her attack, her perfect, fluid one-on-one fight style exploding forward.
Alista's [Battle Analyzer] worked perfectly. He could clearly see every loophole and flaw in her movements—the fractional pauses, the moments her guard shifted. However, her strength, speed, and overall skill were overwhelmingly superior. It was like Alista could see the correct answer to a question, but he had no pen to write it down—the physical gulf was too great.
'How should I switch from this one-on-one duel to hit-and-run tactics?' he thought, desperately trying to disengage.
As he attempted to retreat, Orphne anticipated the move. She suddenly drew an arrow from her quiver and shot it at him without breaking stride. Alista managed to nearly dodge the arrow, but this forced him into a position where her sword was instantly aimed at his neck.
He blocked the sword with a desperate, clumsy move. In the same moment, Orphne used her empty left hand to took another arrow from her quiver without a bow, stabbing it directly toward his stomach. Alista shifted his body to take the blow in a less harmful area, but he was still hit, the arrow point scraping painfully across his ribs.
Immediately, Orphne pressed her attack. Alista used all his strength to block her onslaught, but a terrifying warning suddenly screamed in his mind: danger on his back.
He tried to press forward, to escape the line of fire, but a massive fire fist slammed into his body. The Flame Giant had returned, and this time, it was perfectly coordinated with the Hunter. The impact sent Alista flying straight across the temple and crashing against the far wall.
Before he could even register the pain, Orphne was on him. Her sword flashed—a clean, final arc.
She cut his head off.
Alista woke up again with a sickening jolt, back near the inner ring. He immediately checked his neck, his hands moving automatically to the spot where he had been severed.
"That pain..." he whispered, the sheer mental trauma of the execution lingering. "How the hell does Natsuki Subaru survive this mental assault?" He knew, deep down, that he was no Natsuki Subaru. He had to end this in the minimal number of loops possible, or the psychological toll would shatter him.
He focused, recalling the last brutal moments. "She is outclassing me in all physical capabilities and skillset," Alista analyzed. "And she seems to be flawlessly switching between weapons, especially the sword and bow. She is a perfect hunter."
He continued his terrifying deduction. "She scouted the whole area and disarmed the weapons before the giant even appeared. She clearly anticipated my moves and used her skillset accordingly. The giant was not bait; it was an executioner."
Alista began to use his knowledge of the past loops to meticulously inspect the temple, looking for any nuance he had missed.
The fight between Alista Tudor and Orphne of the Nine transcended into multiple loops.
In one loop, Alista was stabbed in the heart.
In the next, his brain was blown out by a precise arrow shot.
In another, he was eaten alive by the fire giant.
But in each loop, Alista Tudor learned something useful from Orphne. By trying to mimic her movements, he slowly learned rudimentary swordsmanship. He learned how to set up traps more effectively from his previous experiences, applying the knowledge instantly upon reset. He was still undeniably an amateur, but he was rapidly closing the skill gap.
After an indeterminate number of cycles—some ten to twenty loops—Alista woke up once more near the inner ring. He sat still, running the composite data of all his deaths through his [Battle Analyzer]. He thought of a final, vivid, and highly precarious plan.
A slow, tired, but triumphant smile spread across his face.
"This might work."
===================================
The first Nightmare will be kept short,Kindly review the chapters and comment it out