"I've learned," Max said, his voice genuine, steady, and filled with gratitude. "And it's all thanks to you, Blob."
He wasn't speaking out of politeness—he meant every word. If Blob hadn't stopped him, hadn't challenged him, hadn't planted the seed of doubt in his overconfident path… Max knew he would have kept walking that broad, hollow road, mistaking accumulation for progress.
"Good, but there are more to follow," the tower spirit's voice echoed once more in Max's mind, calm yet unwavering, as another figure began to emerge from the thick grey mist.
Slowly, step by step, a new warrior took form—its silhouette familiar yet unknown, carrying a pressure that promised another fierce trial.
But this time, Max didn't tense. He didn't brace in fear. A small smile tugged at his lips, sharp and eager. "Good," he muttered, his voice low with anticipation. "I was itching for a battle right now."
