**Dane, after being handed Amelia's bow

  Dane stared at the bow in disbelief. The wood was as he remembered it, a special elven tree that he couldn't recall the name of; it looked like Earth's walnut. The runes that had been etched were now dark. When Amelia drew the bow, it would illuminate the gold scribbles that were now silent. Dane had stared on the other side of this bow once. Now he held it. Not just him, but the man who had stolen it from her. The man who killed Amelia.

  He didn't take it gently.

  He ripped it from the Shadowman's grasp, as if the weapon itself were a stand-in for all the pain he'd buried beneath steel and blood and silence. It thrummed with stored magic, Amelia's magic, and when his fingers wrapped around the grip, her last whisper of warmth seared into his soul.

  For a second, he couldn't move. His chest was tight, and his breath was hard to draw. The combat that was raging all around them stood still. Dane couldn't hear anything except the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears.

  Then a scream ripped from his throat a primal, savage cry that sounded more like a roar than anything that could come from a man.

  It wasn't a battle cry. It was a rift of fury, grief, and betrayal so raw it echoed through the very bones of the cavern. Nearby soldiers flinched. Even the Shadowman tilted his head, ever so slightly.

  Dane launched forward, bow in his left, and axe in his right. He lobbed the axe at his enemy, the spirits inside howling for release. The Shadowman ducked with the blade and prepared his defenses, a mana shield that howled with the wind affinity, creating an impenetrable gale. Dane didn't have an arrow, but he ran mana into the shaft of the bow and conjured arrows using his water affinity, firing recklessly, he drew on space magic to redirect shots mid-flight. Each arrow twisted in impossible angles, skipping past parries, biting deep into the armor joints of enemies nearby and even deeper into the Shadowman's shield.

  The Shadowman didn't move at first. He just watched.

  And Dane?

  He ignited the bow in timefire, a spell he'd only theorized, but his bullets were too fast for it. Arrows didn't have that problem. The string snapped with blue heat as his magic surged wildly and uncontrollably. Twenty-four shots sprang out of the bowstring, twenty-four different timelines. For the first few exchanges, the Shadowman danced around him, phasing through attacks like liquid shadow. Dane was losing.

  Dane blinked behind him, slamming the butt of the bow into the back of the Shadowman's head. A ripple of dark energy knocked him back, and Dane followed with a piercing arrow to the gut, sending shadow mist spiraling.

  The Shadowman recovered instantly. His blade, void-black and with trailing hunger, slashed through reality. Dane barely dodged.

  Dane's movements grew wilder, more reckless, bending time to throw phantom versions of himself forward while the real him struck from the sides. He twisted the timestream to send arrows into the past, letting them reappear seconds later in the present. The feedback loop strained his mana, causing his nostrils to spout blood and his vision to double.

  Still, it wasn't enough. Not even close.

  The Shadowman impaled him through the chest with a shadow spear.

  Pain exploded through Dane's ribs, and his vision went white. He collapsed to one knee, coughing blood. The bow slipped from his hand.

  Not again.

  Not another failure.

  Then, the world slowed. Not the time-bending kind of slow, but spiritual slow. As if existence held its breath. The spirits in his axe whispered in chorus:

  "Hold on to this moment."

  His soul heard them before his mind did. Dane raised his bleeding hand and stabbed his own heart with a pulse of time magic. A cerulian sigil flared outward like a fractal flower blooming on his chest, freezing the moment in place.

  Dane didn't hesitate.

  He placed a hand on the sigil on his chest. Magic spiraled inward like a cyclone as runes etched themselves across his veins, burning bright blue.

  [Chrono Anchor] Skill Acquired.

  Fixed temporal point established.

  Warning: You may return to this moment a maximum of 24 times.

  All other time and space magic is sealed for 72 hours. The Anchor cannot be moved. The Anchor deactivates after the final reset or complete mana restoration.

  Goosebumps ran through his entire body. The Shadowman brought a blade to his left temple faster than he could react. Dane died instantly.

  1 Reset Used. [23 Remaining]

  Time snapped. He was back, kneeling, bow in hand, his chest bleeding a shadow spear skewering him. The memory of death lingered in his bones, cold and very real, but his body was whole. He gritted his teeth and rolled to the right, but the small dagger missed its mark.

  "Alright," Dane said out loud, more to himself than to his opponent. "Let's do this."

  He fought sloppily at first. Not out of panic, but on purpose. Letting himself die to see how the Shadowman reacted to pressure. How long did the feints last? What angles did he favor? He died 5 times to test one parry.

  Reset 6. [18 Remaining]

  He controlled the tempo, mixing in strange movements, such as shoulder rolls that warped his center of gravity, and half-firing arrows mid-dodge, utilizing the bow's mana-echo to project false trails. He baited, dodged, and stabbed himself mid-fight to break momentum and reset his posture. It was a beautiful symphony, a chaotic storm of trial and error.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  He burned through eight more lives.

  Reset 14. [10 Remaining]

  The Shadowman started hesitating. Dane's patterns were honed with repetition. Every motion had memory behind it. Every choice was backed by dozens of deaths. He knew the angle of each flicker-blade. The distance before the teleport pull struck, and the breathing rhythm of his enemy.

  He baited a shadow vault and dropped to a knee, firing backward through his shoulder. The arrow struck the Shadowman's thigh. It was the first time he made the man bleed. Dane died for it.

  Reset 15. [9 Remaining]

  Dane stumbled as he rematerialized, the impact of the last death still echoing in the hollow of his chest. He hadn't realized how much pain could linger between resets. It wasn't physical, not even magical, just some phantom ache in the soul. But he couldn't stop.

  His boots dug into the blood-slick stone. The Shadowman was already in motion, sweeping from the edge of the mist with that same jagged, liquid grace. Dane didn't waste an arrow. He used the opening seconds to reposition, drawing in a ragged breath as he mapped the Shadowman's angle of approach.

  The Shadowman had been an elf at the start of the fight. But the longer they fought, the better Dane got, the more the elf warped into something else, a shade devil.

  Dane dropped low, fired backward over his shoulder, and caught it in the thigh as it reappeared, just a hair too slow. The arrow was buried shallow, but it still hit.

  The Shadowman hissed, not in pain, but in a flicker of something like surprise. Dane was already moving, keeping his distance, using the bow's reinforced limbs to block one blow and vault over another. No tricks. No time and space magic. Just training and grit, earned across fifteen deaths. He died again after a misstep led to hesitation.

  Reset 16. [8 Remaining]

  The moment returned like a curse. Same stone. Same air. Same pounding in his ears.

  The resets blurred, but not in the way one might expect. Dane remembered them all, every failure, every tweak. Each time he returned, he was sharper. Smoother. Not invincible, far from it, but improved.

  He started incorporating terrain. Fired arrows into walls, ceilings, and weak pillars. He set up delayed ricochets with subtle variations in angle, then drew the Shadowman into the crossfire.

  Reset 19. [5 Remaining]

  Blood sprayed across the stone as one of his traps landed true. The Shadowman recoiled, cloak tearing, flesh warping unnaturally where the shaft punched through.

  He began altering his tempo, faking staggered movements, and collapsing into false exhaustion to bait his opponent's aggression. He used his own body as misdirection, letting the Shadowman's blade graze his shoulder so he could plant an explosive at close range.

  Pain bloomed just above his ribs, and a dagger was sticking out of his side. The Shadowman twisted, and everything faded again.

  Reset 20. [4 Remaining]

  His return was immediate, but his lungs still felt bruised. He rolled to the right but was met with a shadow spike.

  Reset 21. [3 Remaining]

  That was the turning point. The Shadowman unleashed a tactic Dane hadn't seen, an explosion from the void that collapsed mana within a radius. It sucked all light from the world and drained the last fragments of mana residue from his skin.

  He didn't survive it.

  Reset 22. [2 Remaining]

  He couldn't brute-force this. There would be no outmaneuvering an enemy who adapted faster than any dungeon boss. The man was growing stronger as the fight progressed; the Emperor was infusing him with cosmic energy. Dane could reset the timeline as much as he wanted, but the Emperor would funnel energy until the Shadowman was strong enough to blow through his choreographed moves. Dane let out a ragged breath. He couldn't move his arms. This reset was over. All of his stamina was dry, and the Shadowman loomed over him like death. He was too slow to defend the blow from his opponent, and a dagger slid into his throat.

  Gurgling Dane mouthed, "See you soon."

  Reset 23. [1 Remaining]

  Dane used this loop to prepare. He didn't engage immediately. Instead, he moved along the perimeter, firing several arrows into preset locations, corners of walls, carved cracks in the ceiling, and runes etched into the floor with his blood. He created a map of consequences. Everything led back to one final moment.

  When the Shadowman struck this time, Dane used only his hands. He caught the blade between his bracer and the back of his hand. He twisted, then let himself be cut across the abdomen just long enough to grab the Shadowman's cloak and plant an explosive. The explosive would activate the next time the Shadowman crossed a mana threshold. And Dane had every intention of forcing it to. He created a mana wall, and the explosive went off, killing the Shadowman, but Dane was caught in the blast as well. He forgot that he couldn't use time and space affinity for three days.

  [Warning: Final Reset]

  Dane rematerialized on one knee. The Anchor pulsed dimly in his chest, its glow weak, stretched thin from overuse. This was the end of the line. He pressed his palm to the floor. Felt the charge humming faintly beneath the stone. It was one of six he'd embedded alongside the one placed at the gate before the ambush ever started. He laid the other charges in case they became overrun and needed to ensure mutual destruction.

  The charges weren't standard mana bombs. They were his idea, molded and designed by Jason from scavenged tech wrapped in crude spellwork. Jason had done most of the heavy lifting, but Dane provided the occupation and system shaping to make it happen.

  It was stubborn magic. Backed into a corner and refusing to yield magic. Earthbound magic.

  Now, the weight of twenty-four deaths bore down on him, and the backup plan was all that remained. He didn't rise. But he did whisper not to the battlefield, but to the only system that had ever answered him when he was already broken.

  "Earthbound System," he said, voice hoarse. "Dia... if any part of you's still alive in there..." He swallowed blood. "...then don't let this be the end."

  A purple system screen popped up.

  [Override Acknowledged.]

  Due to your occupation as a Demolition expert, you receive the legendary skill explosion resistance.

  Dane stood.

  He moved faster than he should've. Every step pounded raw bone against muscle. But he wasn't aiming for the Shadowman. Not yet. The first shot wasn't meant to strike. It hit the ceiling, shattering loose debris. The noise masked the click of his detonator syncing with the charges.

  Dane was already moving. Bow in one hand, detonator clasped in the other. He tackled the Shadowman, slamming into him shoulder-first, forcing the creature to phase too early.

  A blade lashed out, but Dane was already turning, twisting, jamming the bow's reinforced limb into the Devil's chest. The devices began to emit their song and blinked a red light. The six charges were out of sync, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

  He didn't shout. Just controlled his breath into a steady and quiet pattern. "This is my final timeline."

  And with his last bit of strength, he activated the detonator. The six-fold explosion combusted. He and the Shadowman were standing precisely in the middle of the floor, right on top of the blast. Dane felt the lick of the flames beneath him tighten his skin. He felt debris try to rip through his body, and the shockwave threw him.

  When the cave-in cleared, Dane was lying on the 5th floor, a boulder smashing his legs.

  Dane let out a full-body chuckle.

  "I don't even have a pickaxe this time."

  The Shadowman was gone, vaporized in the backlash, consumed by the charges. Dane saw a figure approaching him, but everything faded to black before he could make out who it was.