The rhythmic thud of distant drums, a constant, maddening pulse against the roar of battle, had long ceased to be mere noise. For Kim Hyu-Gi, it was the persistent echo of a thousand heartbeats, his own and countless others, each one silenced and then miraculously rekindled. His lungs burned with the familiar ache of exertion, a welcome sensation that anchored him to this brutal reality, far more potent than the ghostly chill of the void that always followed his deaths. He had just cleared a path through a tight spear formation, the last enemy soldier collapsing with a gurgle, his face frozen in a mask of surprise. The residual tremor in Hyu-Gi’s arm was not from fear, but from the raw, mechanical force of his swings. Each resurrection honed him. Every cut, every broken bone, every moment of suffocation beneath a pile of bodies, etched itself into a deeper, more primal layer of his being. He moved now with an economy of motion that would have seemed impossible mere days ago. His F-Class body, the one that had always felt like a cage, was transforming, not into something grand, but into a tool of ruthless efficiency. He saw gaps before they formed, anticipated lunges before muscles twitched, and his grip on the dented, blood-slicked sword felt as natural as breathing. He pushed past the fallen, the stench of iron and fear clinging to the air like a shroud. The main line of battle was a chaotic mosh pit of steel and screams to his left, but he instinctively veered right, away from the thickest concentration of combatants. He wasn't fleeing; he was searching. Searching for the weaknesses, for the seams in the enemy’s endless fabric, for something beyond merely surviving the next immediate threat. His eyes, sharper than before, scanned the churning mass, noting the subtle shifts in momentum, the flow of reinforcements, the distant glint of banners. Then he heard it, a different kind of thrumming beneath the ground, growing rapidly. Not the dull percussion of marching feet, but a heavier, more impactful vibration. The ground itself seemed to tremble, sending a warning through the soles of his worn boots. He snapped his head up, peripheral vision widening, and saw them: a line of horsemen, perhaps ten strong, emerging from a distant patch of dense forest, their armor gleaming dully under the overcast sky. Cavalry. A new variable. Panic, an old, familiar friend, tried to claw its way up his throat. He had been trampled by horses countless times in this simulation – it was a particularly gruesome and effective way to die. The sheer mass, the speed, the height advantage of the riders, made them terrifying. His previous tactics, designed for foot soldiers, felt utterly inadequate. But then the fear receded, replaced by a cold, calculating analysis. He wouldn't just run this time. He couldn't. He quickly assessed his surroundings. A cluster of discarded siege equipment – a broken catapult, several snapped ballistae – offered scattered cover to his left. To his right, the terrain sloped gently upwards, dotted with exposed rocks and sparse, stunted bushes. Directly ahead was open ground, a death trap against charging horses. He sprinted towards the cluster of siege equipment, his mind racing. He needed a choke point, something to disrupt their formation. The thunder of hooves grew louder, swallowing the lesser sounds of battle. He risked a glance back. The cavalry unit was closer now, their lances lowered, a dark, unstoppable wave. Their lead rider, a burly man with a horned helmet, let out a guttural roar, urging his charge. Hyu-Gi dove behind the remains of a broken wooden cart, its splintered frame offering scant protection. He knew he couldn’t stay there. He had to meet them. With a surge of adrenaline, Hyu-Gi burst from cover, not retreating, but angling himself towards the approaching flank of the horsemen. He targeted the first horseman on the far left. His sword was too short to reach the rider from the ground effectively, but he could target the horses. As the first horse thundered past, its powerful legs a blur, Hyu-Gi ducked low, a perilous gamble. He didn't slash; he thrust with all his might, aiming for the horse's exposed underbelly, just behind its foreleg. The blade scraped, bit, and then sank in. The horse screamed, a terrified, unearthly shriek, its momentum instantly disrupted. It reared violently, throwing its rider, a chain reaction that momentarily broke the rigid line of the charge. The horned rider, seeing the disruption, bellowed in rage, diverting his own horse to cut Hyu-Gi down. But that split-second hesitation was all Hyu-Gi needed. He rolled, narrowly avoiding a downward lance thrust that splintered the ground where he'd been. Scrambling to his feet, he didn't run; he sprinted *towards* the downed rider, whose helmet had been knocked askew. Another horse, panicked by its fallen comrade, veered wildly, its rider struggling for control. Hyu-Gi moved like a phantom, capitalizing on the chaos. He reached the unhorsed rider first, driving his sword into the man’s exposed throat before he could fully rise. A quick, brutal kill. But he couldn't savor it. Another horseman was bearing down on him, sword raised high. This time, Hyu-Gi didn't go for the horse. He waited until the last possible moment, judging the rider's arc, and then leaped, using the momentum of his sprint and a discarded crate as a makeshift launchpad. His upward trajectory was clumsy, desperate, but effective. He barely managed to grasp the rider’s leg armor, pulling himself up onto the horse’s side as the shocked soldier struggled to react. The horse, sensing the struggle, bucked and whinnied, threatening to throw them both. Hyu-Gi held on with white-knuckled desperation, scrambling higher. The rider, momentarily disoriented, swung his sword wildly. Hyu-Gi parried with his own blade, sparks flying, the impact jarring his entire arm. He then twisted, using the horse's erratic movements to his advantage, and plunged his blade into the rider's unprotected armpit, a gap in the segmented plate. The man screamed, a wet, choking sound, and tumbled from the saddle, leaving Hyu-Gi precariously balanced on the back of a riderless, panicked warhorse. He didn't know how to ride. He had no control. The horse bolted, carrying him deeper into the swirling chaos of the battlefield, a wild, uncontrolled trajectory that was both terrifying and exhilarating. He clung on, his body aching, his mind alight with a fierce, cold triumph. He had met the cavalry, a challenge that had once meant instant death, and he had not only survived but had taken two of them down, even if by sheer, desperate luck and brutal adaptation. The simulation was teaching him, not just how to fight, but how to become something beyond human, something forged in endless suffering, a weapon honed by the constant threat of oblivion. He felt the reins slip through his grasp, the horse bucking again, and he knew another death was imminent. But this time, it was different. This time, he smiled.

Chapter 16: Iron Hooves and Whispers of Steel