Chapter 156 – Twilight

Tzzt. Tick.

The elemental energy surging towards Aaron dissipated, Hermilla’s ferocious attack vanishing against an unseen barrier.

“Hah.”

Serr clicked her tongue, watching the reversed pentagram in the sky grow larger, absorbing the battlefield’s death.

“Master… no, Aaron. What have you done?”

“The plan’s changed. Unblessed, prioritize the priestess. Retrieve her, then retreat when Brunhilde awakens.”

Aaron, ignoring Hermilla’s despair, issued calm orders through his communication device. Powerful auras across the battlefield began converging on Rubia’s location.

“Go.”

“…What—”

“I won’t stop you.”

Aaron crushed his communication device and walked away.

“Hermilla.”

Serr turned Hermilla towards her.

“Even I can’t stop that ritual. Brunhilde’s awakening is inevitable.”

“…I know.”

“It consumes the blood and flesh of the dead, the wandering souls, the divine power within the experiments. Souls absorbed are lost to reincarnation, forever.”

Serr’s gaze was heavy with unspoken meaning. Go if you must. Save your comrades if you wish. Rest if you need.

But Hermilla shook her head, looking towards Rubia. Steadying her breath, she spoke, her voice low and firm.

“Let’s go to Lady Rubia.”

“The bald man fighting Kalt is on the verge of death. Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Hermilla didn’t hesitate. She’d walked a path paved with her comrades’ corpses. She was ready to bear the weight.

“Have you seen this future before?”

“No… never.”

“I see.”

Serr smiled faintly and channeled Light Spirits into Hermilla.

“Ten in total. Think of them as stored potions.”

She returned to her usual demeanor and summoned countless Wind Spirits.

“Still don’t want to learn magic?”

“That’s not magic. It’s spirits.”

Hermilla chuckled, taking Serr’s hand and stepping onto the wind currents.

“Magic can do so much more. Any miracle you desire. That is magic.”

A whimsical statement, a lighthearted joke in a grim situation. Serr, as always, delivered it with a serious face.

“…Any body-enhancing magic?”

Hermilla smiled, playing along.

“Of course. Haste for speed, Strength for power—”

As Serr rambled excitedly, Hermilla looked down at the battlefield below: blood-soaked earth devouring corpses, experiments tearing themselves apart, Liberation Army soldiers standing firm despite grievous wounds. And the Light Spirits, flitting about, healing the injured.

She looked at Serr, still lecturing about magic, but her eyes constantly scanning for the wounded, sweat dripping from her neck, fingers moving tirelessly, eyes bloodshot.

“—So, what do you think? Ready to learn?”

Serr finished her explanation, smirking arrogantly.

“Yeah… well…”

Someday. When it was over. When peace returned.

“Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

Their promise dissipated in the wind.

***

Rip. Tear.

Heinzel swatted aside a tentacle and straightened up, crushing thorns underfoot, ripping through the waves of shadows.

He pressed on towards Kalt, surrounded by darkness.

The overwhelming power difference. The sheer force unlike anything he’d faced. The constant threat of death.

Yet, Heinzel didn’t falter.

But it wasn’t enough. His attacks couldn’t reach Kalt.

Still, he didn’t retreat.

“—Raaaagh!”

Boom! He unleashed a burst of gravity, creating a crack in the shadows. Fighting the encroaching darkness, he thrust his prosthetic arm into the opening.

The shadows surged, trying to consume it. He gritted his teeth, twisting his arm.

Rip. The crack widened.

He didn’t hesitate, thrusting his other arm into the opening, abandoning all defense.

Crack! Tendrils lashed out, thorns pierced his ankles. Flesh tore, muscles ripped, bones cracked.

The blood didn’t fall; it was absorbed by the shadows, forming new thorns, tentacles, death itself, all directed at him.

But his hands held on, widening the crack.

“—Bastard!”

Boom! He stomped, ignoring the thorns, unleashing a gravitational wave that tore the shadows asunder.

Rip. Tear.

The crack widened—

—and then shattered.

Fwoosh!

The shadows dispersed.

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

Free, Heinzel channeled his remaining mana, unleashing a massive gravitational force behind him.

Whoosh! Boom!

He rocketed forward, slamming his fist into Kalt’s face.

KABOOM! Kalt’s form trembled violently.

“I GOT YOU!!!”

He roared, his prosthetic fist a blur.

Another wave of shadows erupted from Kalt, his form retreating into the darkness.

“Not so fast!”

Heinzel grabbed the retreating shadows—

—and ripped them out.

“BALD IS BEST!!!”

Boom! Crash! Kaboom!

He unleashed a furious barrage, ignoring his own defense.

Blood sprayed as shadows scattered. His breath grew ragged as the shadows faded.

Tendrils tore his flesh, spikes pierced his legs, a black blade sliced his foot.

But his laughter didn’t stop. His attacks didn’t falter. His desire to win burned bright.

He didn’t know how to kill Kalt. He just knew that if he kept hitting him, he would eventually die.

After eighteen successful strikes—

—golden chains erupted, binding him.

A massive golden spear descended. A black blade swung. Bladed chains tore at his flesh. Thorns impaled his limbs.

The shadows converged.

And then—

—thousands of Light Spirits descended, engulfing him.

His wounds healed, his vision cleared, his mind sharpened, his muscles regenerated.

Mana surged through him.

“HAHAHAHAHA! LONG LIVE THE SPIRITS!!!”

ZWOOM! A crazed roar, a gravitational wave distorting the very air, shattering the chains, deflecting the incoming attacks.

But the enemy wasn’t done. A void opened in the sky, revealing countless golden weapons, gleaming in the black sun’s light.

They were fired.

Heinzel’s eyes widened, taking it all in, ignoring the splitting headache as he expanded his senses. The spirits sacrificed themselves, blocking the weapons. But they wouldn’t hold forever.

Ten seconds.

Enough time to kill this thing.

Maybe.

Heinzel made his decision.

“HAHAHAHAHA!”

With a boisterous laugh—

—ZWANG!—

—he punched Kalt in the face.