The exact moment Henry accepted the prompt, a massive pillar of swirling blue light erupted in the dead center of the sprawling arena.
Even before the light faded, Henry could tell there was a horrifying difference between a standard F rank hobgoblin and a Champion. Just based on how high the column of light extended off the cavern floor, the scale of the monster was completely wrong.
A second later, the blue light shattered, revealing the closest thing to an orc Henry had ever laid eyes on.
The Hobgoblin Champion stood easily at seven feet tall, its chest and shoulders twice as thick as the hobgoblin in the second hobgoblin cavern. Its dark green skin was pulled taut over dense muscles, thick veins pulsing with raw, unadulterated power across its massive arms and legs.
In its right hand, it effortlessly gripped a giant, heavy broadsword, a hunk of dark iron almost as large as the greatsword Henry's own father wielded.
Its eyes were a piercing, unnatural mixture of yellow and brown, with a sickly, predatory yellow heavily overpowering the darker tones. It locked its eyes on Henry, staring at him with ravenous intensity, as though it were eager to literally devour him.
Henry's gaze flicked slightly higher. Hovering above the Champion's head was the standard F rank identifier, but it wasn't white, nor was it the warning yellow of the cobra boss.
It was an intense, pulsating dark red.
The longer Henry stared at it, the more his eyes began to play tricks on him. He swore he could see the bottom of the red letter actually liquefying, threatening to bead and drip like fresh blood.
Henry forcefully blinked, shaking his head. The optical illusion of the dripping blood vanished, replaced by a new translucent blue screen that embedded itself directly into the energy barrier separating them.
Massive numbers began to silently tick down.
30... 29... 28...
"This is it," Henry breathed, tightening his two-handed grip on his arming sword. "The final challenge."
5... 4... 3... 2... 1...
The blue barrier instantly shattered into a million dissipating shards.
Henry didn't hesitate. He bolted forward, accelerating to his absolute maximum speed, closing the distance in a blur.
But the Champion didn't step forward to meet him. It just stood perfectly still in the center of the arena, its heavy broadsword resting casually at its side, simply watching Henry approach.
The unnatural stillness gave Henry a sudden, deeply ominous feeling. Anticipating a trap, he shifted his footing at the last second. Just as he entered striking range, he abandoned the balanced Lower Regium style. Instead, he seamlessly transitioned into the aggressive Sinclair style, harnessing every single ounce of momentum from his full-speed sprint to deliver a devastating, fully charged overhead strike.
Only then did the Champion move.
With casual speed, the monster raised its iron sword horizontally to meet the blow.
CLANG!
The cavern echoed with a screech of colliding metal. Henry's sprinting momentum was massive. The force of his strike pushed the towering Champion's heavy boots backward, grinding them two feet across the stone floor.
For half a second, the weapons locked in a dead stalemate.
Then, looking down at Henry over the crossed blades, the Hobgoblin Champion actually smirked.
Suddenly, an overwhelming, crushing force radiated down through Henry's blade. The Champion didn't even shift its stance; it simply flexed its massive arms and casually overpowered him, physically shoving Henry's blade upward and forcing him to frantically hop backward twice to keep from being thrown off his feet.
'I expected it to out-strength me, but not by this much!' Henry thought, his arms vibrating from the strike.
As Henry stood his ground, hesitating to find a new angle of attack, the Champion decided it was done waiting. It closed the gap in three large strides.
Without even bothering to use both hands, the monster unleashed a one-handed overhead cleave.
The speed of the heavy blade as it caught the air completely caught Henry off guard. He barely managed to raise his sword with one hand to catch the strike in a desperate, angled parry.
CRACK!
The concussive force was unbelievable. Henry's boots were violently dragged six feet backward across the stone, the impact sending a numb, terrifying jolt all the way up to his shoulder. The blade nearly spun completely out of his grip.
'I can't attack or defend against this thing with just one hand,' Henry realized in a cold sweat, desperately backpedaling to disengage and create space.
Oddly, after taking a few aggressive steps forward, the Champion stopped chasing him. It lowered its sword and simply watched Henry retreat, generously granting him the seconds he needed to reevaluate.
Henry took the time, his chest heaving as his mind raced. He analyzed the terrifying reality of the brief exchange.
The Champion was faster than him. And it was stronger than him. Even with his explosive stat growth over the last month and a half, Henry possessed absolutely zero physical advantages in this fight. The monster's only discernible flaw was its unrefined, brutish sword technique.
The more Henry mentally calculated the gap in their physical stats, the more a cold, heavy despair began to sink into his gut.
He looked across the cavern.
The Champion was staring at him, its yellow-brown eyes crinkling in dark amusement at the visible apprehension painting Henry's face.
It clicked. Henry suddenly realized exactly why the monster had let him disengage so freely.
'This thing wants me to be scared of it,' Henry realized. It wasn't just fighting him physically; it was engaging in psychological warfare. It was toying with its food.
"Not going to happen," Henry whispered to himself. He needed to violently sever the thread of his own mounting doubt.
He raised his free left hand and slapped himself hard across the cheek. The sharp sting grounded him, instantly pulling him out of his own spiraling thoughts.
'No more thinking. Just fight.'
Henry locked both hands onto the hilt of his sword, sinking into an unshakeable combat stance. He stared directly into the monster's arrogant yellow eyes.
"Bring it on."
The Hobgoblin Champion didn't seem to understand the human words, but it understood the universal language of Henry's sudden shift in posture and the erasure of fear from his expression.
The monster's smirk vanished, replaced by a guttural snarl. It hoisted its great broadsword and charged.
Henry gripped his steel and exploded forward to meet it.