Chapter 67: When Ideologies Converge
A/N: IF YOU HAVE NOT READ CHAPTER 66, GO BACK AND DO THAT NOW
I REPEAT, IF YOU HAVE NOT READ CHAPTER 66, GO BACK AND DO THAT NOW
The small, sunlit kitchen was warm, filled with the scent of freshly baked bread and the faint hum of the world outside. Young Lars, no more than six years old, sat at the wooden table, his small legs dangling off the edge. His mother, Via Mertens, a graceful woman with kind eyes and soft hands, moved about the room, preparing their meal. She hummed a gentle tune as she worked, but Lars, his wide brown eyes full of curiosity, was lost in thought.
"Mum," he said, his voice small but insistent.
Via turned to him, wiping her hands on her apron, her smile gentle as always. "Yes, Lars?"
"Why did you name me Lars?" He paused, thinking for a moment before asking again, "And why 'Lazarus'?"
Via froze, the warmth in her eyes momentarily fading as if caught by a memory. She placed the wooden spoon down with a soft click, her gaze falling on her son. For a long moment, she said nothing, and Lars could feel the weight of her silence in the air.
"Lazarus..." she murmured softly, her voice distant, as if weighing the words in her heart. She knelt down beside him, her hands resting on his small shoulders, her fingers cool against his skin. "It's a name from an old story," she began slowly, as if choosing her words carefully. "A man who was given a second chance at life, after being lost for so long. His name meant 'one who is brought back.'"
Lars tilted his head, his little brow furrowing. "But... why me, Mother? Why 'Lazarus'?"
Via's expression softened with a quiet sorrow that Lars didn't yet understand. She looked away for a moment, her eyes clouded with some memory of the past. "Because," she whispered, her voice trembling just slightly, "you're meant to be something more than I could have imagined, Lars. And in some way... you were a second chance for all of us."
Lars didn't fully grasp the weight of her words, but the love in her eyes was unmistakable. He nodded slowly, trying to piece together the meaning of it all.
"And Mom," Lars added, his innocent curiosity still burning, "does that mean I'm supposed to come back to life one day too?"
Via smiled at his innocence, her fingers brushing through his dark hair, but the sadness in her eyes lingered. "Not exactly, my dear," she said softly. "But sometimes, the name we're given carries more than just its meaning. It's the hope of what we can become, even when we don't see it ourselves."
Lars thought about it for a long time, the image of a man rising from the dead lingering in his young mind. As the years passed, that conversation faded into the background, but the name "Lazarus" became a silent weight upon him. The promise of something greater, something more. It lingered like a shadow—both a blessing and a burden—whispering to him as he grew.
But that day, with his mother's gentle hands on his shoulders, Lars didn't know the full weight of what "Lazarus" would one day mean. He only knew that, for now, he was just her little boy, and that was enough.
…
"Mind Magic," Lars said, his eyes blazing with an otherworldly fury, "Kraftvoller Gedankenstoss."
The mind blast materialised out of seemingly nowhere, hurtling towards Yrul at blinding speeds, who raised his arms to block it. With a primal yell, he rushed at Lars, the thrill of the hunt coursing through his veins, but Lars wasn't having any of it.
He manipulated Gedankenreich to shift the position of himself and Yrul, so that he was now behind the beast mage, his scythe raised, a cold, unfeeling look in his eye.
"Die," Lars simply said, his cup of fury running over.
Instead of simply slashing Yrul, he raised his boot, stomping him into the ground with a violent motion that made him choke out blood. He then followed up with Resonant Concussion, making him fly up into the sky, setting Lars up in a perfect position to hit him.
"Mind Magic: Telekinetic Sweep," he said, twisting in an almost beautiful manner to let a volley of telekinetic rends fly. Each one hit Yrul. Each one drew blood.
Yrul's grimoire pulsed faintly, its pages spinning faster than ever as golden mana erupted from his body, raw and untamed. His stance widened, claws extending like jagged blades dripping with energy. His eyes blazed with primal fury, narrowing as he focused on Lars, who stood in radiant defiance. Yrul's voice rumbled low and guttural, each word laced with venom.
"You think your strategies, your tricks, your mind games will stop me?" Yrul growled, his mana swirling violently. "Instinct is all I need. It's pure, uncorrupted by doubt or thought. Instinct always wins."
Lars met Yrul's glare with cold resolve, his celestial form shimmering brilliantly. His white hair caught the golden glow of his Celestial convergence, streaks of light flowing like a comet's tail. His Tiefe Analyse visor snapped into place, a pink overlay of data streaming across his vision, every detail of Yrul's erratic movements captured and cataloged. Lars' voice, sharp and unrelenting, rang out over the battlefield.
"Instinct without reason is nothing but chaos," Lars spat, his scythe humming with celestial energy. "You're nothing more than a beast flailing against the inevitable."
Yrul roared, golden mana exploding around him as he lunged. His claws ripped through the air with terrifying speed, each strike a blur of feral strength. But Lars was faster, sidestepping with surgical precision, his visor's predictions guiding his movements. His scythe spun in a defensive arc, deflecting Yrul's wild blows and forcing the beast mage to leap back. Yet Yrul landed gracefully, his muscles taut, already preparing to strike again.
"Mind Magic: Brain Surgeon," Lars snarled, his voice cold and calculated. A wave of mental energy surged forward, invisible but devastating. It struck Yrul with unrelenting force, slicing through his neural pathways like a scalpel. For a brief moment, Yrul's body froze, his limbs twitching unnaturally as the spell scrambled the connection between thought and action.
But Yrul's instincts surged like a tidal wave, overriding the disruption. He roared again, his movements even more chaotic as he abandoned all pretense of control. Each strike he launched was raw and unpredictable, driven by the primal will to survive. Lars was forced to dodge rapidly, his scythe deflecting only the blows his visor could anticipate.
"You can't outthink instinct!" Yrul bellowed, his voice rising in fury as his strikes grew even more erratic. "Your plans, your logic—they mean NOTHING against true power!"
Lars' eyes narrowed, golden flames burning brighter around him as his celestial aura flared. He raised his hand, his grimoire glowing fiercely. "If brute instinct is all you have," he said, his voice like a knife's edge, "then let me show you what chaos truly means."
His grimoire pulsed, pages flipping in a blur of light. "Mind Magic: Virtual Insanity."
The spell struck Yrul like an avalanche, his golden aura flickering violently as his perception shattered. The world around him twisted and warped; colors bled together in a hallucinatory swirl, and every sound became a deafening cacophony. The ground beneath his feet rippled like liquid, the horizon splitting into a kaleidoscope of impossible shapes. Yrul staggered, his breaths ragged and uneven. His claws lashed out at phantoms only he could see, his instincts turning against him as his mind spiraled into madness.
"What... what is this?" Yrul snarled, his voice shaking as he clawed at the air. His glowing eyes darted wildly, unable to focus on reality. "You... coward!"
Lars advanced, his steps deliberate and unyielding. The visor over his eyes tracked Yrul's erratic movements, every misstep and flinch analyzed in real time. His scythe hummed with radiant energy, its blade glinting with celestial light. Lars' voice cut through the distorted chaos like a blade.
"Confused?" Lars taunted, his tone icy. He stepped closer, his scythe raised. "This is what it feels like to drown in your own lack of control. You rely on instincts, but they're blind. They've betrayed you."
Yrul roared in defiance, his claws slashing wildly. Each strike tore deep gouges into the ground, sending shards of earth and rock flying. Lars danced around him, his celestial form moving with almost otherworldly precision. He struck back with calculated ferocity, his scythe carving shallow wounds into Yrul's sides, drawing blood with each deliberate strike.
But Yrul was not done. Even through the swirling chaos of Virtual Insanity, his instincts clung to one unshakable truth: survival. His mana surged wildly, golden energy bursting outward in raw, uncontrolled waves. His movements defied all logic, his body adapting in real time to the disorienting illusions. Lars' visor struggled to keep up as Yrul's strikes became so erratic they nearly surpassed prediction.
"You rely on your tools, your plans, your so-called brilliance," Yrul snarled, his voice raw and ragged. His mana flared brighter, golden claws crackling with energy. "But you've forgotten the heart of battle! You can't predict a storm—you can only endure it!"
Yrul's claws grazed Lars' shoulder in a sudden, unpredictable lunge, drawing a sharp gasp of pain. Lars stumbled back, his golden wings flaring defensively as he regained his footing. Blood seeped from the shallow wound, but the pain only deepened his resolve. He straightened, his celestial power blazing brighter, his eyes alight with unrelenting fury.
"You talk about storms," Lars said, his voice steady and cold, "but storms are born from the clash of chaos and order. And I am the eye of this storm."
Lars lunged forward, his movements a perfect blend of precision and power. His scythe carved through the air in a deadly arc, forcing Yrul to leap back. But the beast mage, despite his madness, landed on all fours with feral grace, his golden aura still flaring. The battlefield was a tempest of light and fury, instinct and intellect clashing in a battle of wills.
Neither would back down. Neither could afford to lose.
Yrul's movements became more frenzied, his golden aura crackling with unrestrained power as he lunged at Lars again. Each swipe of his claws sent shockwaves rippling through the ground, splintering the terrain into jagged shards. Lars met each assault with calculated precision, his Tiefe Analyse visor glowing brightly as it tracked every motion. The predictions flickered faster, but even the visor struggled to keep up with Yrul's primal unpredictability.
"Is this all you have, Lars?" Yrul taunted, his voice a guttural growl. "Your calculations, your precision—they're crumbling under the weight of my instincts!"
Lars spun away from another slash, his celestial wings carrying him just out of reach. His scythe struck out in a precise counterattack, the blade grazing Yrul's side, but the beast mage barely flinched. Blood seeped from the wound, but it only seemed to fuel his ferocity.
Lars' heart pounded in his chest, his breath heavy as he tried to maintain his focus. His body ached from the relentless battle, his mana reserves waning. Yet, even as the storm of golden energy raged around him, he held firm. His expression was no longer one of anger, but of unyielding determination.
In a brief moment of reprieve, a soft voice echoed in his mind.
"You're hesitating, Lars."
Lars' gaze flickered upward as he felt the presence of his spirit companion, Iskra. Her form, made of pure golden light, shimmered beside him. Her eyes, sharp and knowing, bore into his own. She floated effortlessly at his side, her presence soothing yet intense.
"I'm not hesitating," Lars said under his breath, his voice low but resolute.
Iskra tilted her head, her expression unreadable. "A part of you is. You're calculating every move, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But this battle… it's not just about intellect or instinct. You know that, don't you?"
Lars tightened his grip on his scythe, his knuckles white. "I can't lose control. Not here, not now. If I lose focus, I lose the fight."
Iskra's gaze softened, her golden light pulsing gently. "Control isn't about suppressing chaos, Lars. It's about understanding it—embracing it. True intellect isn't just cold calculation. It's the courage to trust yourself when logic fails. It's about knowing when to act, even if it's not perfect."
Her words struck a chord deep within Lars. He remembered his past—his failures, his doubts, the times he'd overthought everything to the point of paralysis. The Lars who stood here now was different. He had grown. He had learned to trust himself, to adapt, to face the unknown.
His celestial form flared brighter as he steadied his breathing. The chaotic storm of Yrul's instincts no longer seemed insurmountable—it was a puzzle waiting to be solved, a storm that could be tamed.
"Trust myself…" Lars murmured, his voice filled with quiet resolve.
"Exactly," Iskra said with a small smile before fading back into his subconscious.
Yrul charged again, his roar echoing across the battlefield. Lars' Tiefe Analyse visor flickered with warnings, struggling to predict the wild movements of the beast mage. But this time, Lars didn't rely solely on its guidance. He let go of the rigid calculations, allowing instinct and intellect to merge.
Yrul's claws came down in a furious slash, but Lars moved with uncanny fluidity, dodging by mere inches. His scythe spun in a graceful arc, the blade glowing with golden mana as he struck back with renewed vigor.
"You think this is just a battle between instinct and intellect?" Lars said, his voice cutting through the chaos. "You're wrong, Yrul. True strength comes from balance—understanding when to trust your mind and when to trust your heart!"
Yrul snarled, his claws clashing against Lars' scythe in a shower of sparks. "Words mean nothing! Show me!"
"I intend to!" Lars snapped, his celestial wings propelling him upward. He raised his free hand, his grimoire glowing fiercely as another spell materialized.
"Mind Magic: Kraftvoller Gedankenstoss!"
A burst of pink energy surged from Lars' outstretched hand, striking Yrul directly. The beast mage staggered, his movements faltering as the spell disrupted his neural pathways. But this time, Lars didn't stop there. He followed up with a powerful sweep of his scythe, the blade glowing with celestial light as it carved through Yrul's defenses.
Yrul roared in pain, his golden aura flaring violently as he unleashed a desperate counterattack. The ground beneath them cracked and splintered, shockwaves radiating outward as their clash intensified.
Lars' heart raced, his mind and body working in perfect harmony. He felt the weight of every decision, the risk of every action, but he no longer hesitated. This battle was more than a test of strength—it was a reflection of who he had become.
"You wanted chaos, Yrul?" Lars shouted, his voice ringing with defiance. "Then let me show you what it means to master it!"
Yrul's feral growl reverberated through the battlefield as his golden aura intensified, a storm of raw mana spiraling around him. His claws struck out wildly, tearing through the air with devastating force, each swing creating shockwaves that cracked the earth beneath their feet.
Lars leapt backward, his celestial wings propelling him to safety as he raised his scythe defensively. His Tiefe Analyse visor flickered, struggling to keep up with Yrul's erratic movements. Despite his growing exhaustion, Lars' expression was calm, his mind focused.
Yrul roared, his eyes blazing with primal fury. "You talk about control, about balance—but all I see is a fool clinging to his fragile order!"
Lars' celestial form flared brighter, golden flames radiating from his body. He tightened his grip on his scythe, the blade humming with celestial mana. "Fragile? Maybe. But even fragile things can endure if they're tempered by resolve."
"All nonsense!" Yrul yelled. "Celestial Beast Magic: Instinctual Charge!"
Yrul lunged, his claws glowing with golden energy as he closed the distance in an instant. Lars raised his scythe, the blade colliding with Yrul's claws in a blinding explosion of light and power. The force of the impact sent shockwaves rippling outward, flattening the terrain around them.
"Celestial Mind Magic: Gedankenreich," Lars declared, the terrain turning pink once more, everything around him bending to his will.
"Your illusions are meaningless in the eyes of instinct!" Yrul yelled, rushing at Lars once again, his teeth bared, looking the part of a real wild beast.
Right now, Yrul's brain was struggling to make sense of anything. Its reflexes had been slowed, its perception warped, and now mental constructs were popping up out of seemingly nowhere, disorienting him at every turn. He was able to stand on the same platform as Lars sorely on the base of his fighting instincts, honed by years of coming from nothing - years of being treated like nothing. A fitting host for the embodiment of human instinct.
Lars and Yrul, despite their vastly different backgrounds, had similar origins, like two sides of the same coin. Both were treated like trash at every turn, having to develop new ways to find their purpose in society. But while Lars took the noble path of rising over and over again, hoping to find some resolution to his for loop of a story, Yrul broke and went down the darker path. Not everyone could be as lucky as Lars, and that was saying something, considering how unlucky he'd been.
As the clangs of Lars's blade against Yrul's mana claws echoed throughout the cavern, Lars thought about Alex again. He'd often complimented Gedankenreich, saying it was one of Lars's coolest spells, and Lars, trying to maintain an indifferent facade, often dismissed his compliments with a nod or acknowledgement or a wave of the hand.
This was one of the things he regretted sorely.
Because at its core, Gedankenreich was Lars. It was the imprint of his mind, his thoughts given shape and form. Despite everything, he still found that cool as hell. He wished Alexis could see him now, in his new form, with his newfound power.
No, he needed to focus. Thinking about Alexis now would disrupt his focus, and right now, it was taking everything he had to maintain this assault while controlling the realm of his thoughts.
Little did he know, the boy wasn't quite gone yet.; Hanging on the few shreds of life he had left, he looked at Lars and Yrul's clash, beholding the new form of Lars.
"Beautiful," he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Please, Lars…mentor…make him pay…"
Lars, as if suddenly spurred on by Alexis's wish of him winning, increased the tempo of his attacks tenfold. Yrul, in response, called the three of the four great beasts that were there with him to heel, and summoned the fourth one, his grimoire glowing with power.
"Beast Magic: Summon the Four Great Beasts - Tarantella!"
His magic converged, and the strongest of the four great beasts, the giant arachnid called Tarantella, a powerful spider spoken of in legend that was said to have the power to infect anyone and anything with its venom.
Now Lupus, Rama, Vangelis and Tarantella all faced down a resolute Lars, who's hand tightened around his scythe.
Yrul laughed, a bitter, harsh sound that once again echoed through the cavern. "My Celestial Convergence has reached 100%! Now I can force my instinct upon every beast, from every land and clime in the Clover Kingdom! I will plunge it into chaos!"
His eyes locked with Lars, and the mana pouring from him began to increase in intensity and general flow. It extended far beyond the cavern, heading straight towards the exit and spreading out towards the rest of the Clover Kingdom.
"I won't let you!" Lars yelled, but his path was blocked by Tarantella, who quickly skidded in his way and shot a burst of acid at him, which he blocked with Infinite Thought Shield.
"Let me handle…these big brutes for you, Mertens!"
A voice rang out through the cavern, commanding power and even forcing Yrul to look away from what he was doing.
It was Ximena. The small earth magic user did not look very happy, to say the least. Blood poured from a wound on her forehead obscured by her hair, and veins seemed to burst from all around her muscular body. The biggest hint to her pissed-offness was the fact that she was a deep shade of crimson.
"Ximena?" Lars asked, his focus shifting to his squadmate.
"Like hell…" the Earth Magic user panted. "Like hell…I'm gonna lose…to an overgrown lizard…a housecat…a stupid bug…and a dog! And when…this is…all over, I'm…going to…crack his head open like a walnut!" She pointed at Yrul, her finger trembling with rage.
The Four Great Beasts roared in response, their power flaring as all four of them turned to face Ximena, who snarled like she was the fifth Great Beast, her brown eyes resolute.
The tension in the cavern was palpable as Ximena squared off against the Four Great Beasts. Her rage radiated like a tangible force, her Earth Magic crackling with latent power. The colossal spider loomed over her, its mandibles clicking menacingly as its venom dripped onto the stone floor, hissing as it burned into the rock.
Lars, still trying to maintain Gedankenreich, shouted, "Ximena, wait! You can't take them all on alone!"
"Shut up, Mertens!" Ximena barked, her voice as fierce as her magic. "I'm not letting some walking fur coats and oversized vermin stop us!"
Before Lars could argue further, the sound of rushing footsteps echoed through the cavern. From the shadows emerged Yul, his massive frame battered but unbroken, his Steel Magic shimmering like polished armor. Behind him were Kirsch, regal as always despite the crimson stains on his robes, and the twin brothers, Malachi and Elijah, their contrasting snow-white and fiery-red auras glowing in unison.
"Looks like you started the party without us," Elijah quipped, flames dancing at his fingertips.
Malachi rolled his eyes. "Focus, Elijah. We've got a wolf to put on ice."
Kirsch sniffed disdainfully, but his usual vanity was replaced by a cold determination. "That serpent will rue the day it decided to mar my vision with its hideousness."
Yul cracked his knuckles, his Steel Magic forming gauntlets around his hands. "Let's make it quick. We still need to stop the influx of chaotic energy spreading throughout Clover."
Elijah turned to Lars. "Ezequiel's hunting down the others—Sharya, Oda, Russell, and Lilian. They're out there somewhere. He'll find them."
Lars nodded, though his expression darkened with frustration. "And Dorothy?"
Kirsch sighed dramatically. "Our dear captain is asleep, as usual. I told her this was no time for dreams, but she waved me off."
Lars growled under his breath, gripping his scythe tighter. "Of course she is."
"Lars," Malachi said softly, his frosty aura chilling the air around him. "Focus. We'll clear the path. You deal with Yrul."
The battlefield split.
Lupus lunged at the twins, its jaws snapping like a bear trap. Elijah leaped back, igniting a wall of wildfire that roared to life, forcing the wolf to retreat momentarily.
"Keep it steady, Mal!" Elijah shouted, hurling a blazing lance at the beast.
Malachi planted his feet, his Snow Magic weaving into an intricate lattice of frost that spread across the ground, creating a slippery terrain to hinder Lupus' movements. The wolf growled, its paws skidding slightly as it tried to regain traction.
"You heat it up, I cool it down," Malachi said, his voice calm but firm.
Lupus howled, summoning a pack of shadowy wolves that charged at the brothers. Elijah grinned. "Finally, some company!" He snapped his fingers, sending a wave of flames surging through the pack, but Lupus pounced through the fire, its jaws closing in on him.
Before it could land the attack, Malachi summoned a pillar of snow that intercepted the wolf mid-air, throwing it off balance. "Eyes up, Elijah."
Elijah smirked. "Got it."
Vangelis swooped through the cavern, its glittering wings scattering blinding light. Kirsch sneered, raising a wall of cherry blossoms with his Cherry Blossom Magic. The petals swirled in a protective vortex around him.
"You may have the heavens, serpent, but beauty always prevails," Kirsch declared.
The serpent hissed, diving at him with venom-coated fangs. Kirsch extended his hand, sending a storm of blossoms to meet the attack. The petals exploded in bursts of magic, throwing the serpent off-course.
"You dare mar my elegance?" Kirsch said, his tone icy. He summoned a blade of blossoms, aiming it at Vangelis' wings.
The serpent retaliated with a beam of venomous energy, but Kirsch spun gracefully, deflecting it with a flourish. "Pathetic," he muttered.
Rama's growl was low and guttural, its glowing stripes pulsating with raw energy. Yul stood his ground, his Steel Magic coating his body.
The tiger pounced, its claws sparking against Yul's guarding arm. He swung his free arm upwards in a fist, the force sending Rama flying back.
"You're fast," Yul said, his voice calm. "But strength beats speed."
Rama roared, its glowing stripes brightening as it dashed in a blur, striking Yul from multiple angles. He gritted his teeth, his Steel Magic forming a dome around him to block the rapid attacks.
"Not bad," Yul admitted. "But I'm just getting started." His dome expanded outward in a burst of mana, forcing Rama to retreat.
Tarantella skittered forward, its massive legs stabbing at Ximena like spears. She dodged, her Earth Magic reshaping the terrain to block the strikes.
"Come on, you oversized bug!" she yelled, slamming her fists into the ground. Pillars of rock shot up, trying to trap the spider, but it leaped gracefully over them, firing acid in retaliation.
Ximena blocked the acid with a wall of stone, gritting her teeth. "I've squashed cockroaches tougher than you!"
The spider screeched, summoning smaller spiders that swarmed toward her. She stomped her foot, sending a shockwave through the ground that crushed the swarm instantly.
As his squadmates battled the beasts, Lars focused on Yrul, who smirked with a feral intensity.
"You can't stop me," Yrul snarled, his mana surging. "Instinct always triumphs over intellect."
Lars gripped his scythe, the glow of Gedankenreich intensifying. "Maybe. But intellect knows how to turn instinct against itself."
The two resumed their clash, the celestial power filling Yrul erupting in waves, which not only made it so Lars couldn't get close to him, but also sent shockwaves throughout the whole of Clover, spurring on every magical beast he had planted and sent out here and there to become even more uncontrollable.
"I am the Lord of the Hunt!" Yrul yelled. "I am unstoppable! Uncontrollable! Carnal nature incarnate!"
"And I am your executioner," Lars coolly replied, his calm facade not giving an inch to the fury that he felt at Alexis's death.
The effects of both Brain Surgeon and Virtual Insanity had worn off by now, and Yrul's attacks were getting more ferocious, meaning Lars was finding it harder to parry every attack that Yrul threw at him. He used an upwards swing of his scythe to create some distance between them.
"Lars Mertens," Iskra's voice rang out in his head, clearer than it had ever been. "Bashir's essence risks being destroyed if we do not act quickly - I believe, in human time, we have two minutes. I would not normally do this, but under these circumstances, it is necessary to prevent him from fully assimilating into Yrul's spirit. Use these spells to achieve your goals."
Lars's grimoire began to write two new spells inside it, the writing glowing golden (like Gedankenreich) instead of being black like all of his other spells.
"Thank you, Iskra," the mind mage said, his eyes gleaming.
2 Minutes Left
"Celestial Mind Magic: Stratagem of a True Genius!" Lars said, raising his palm, and a huge beam of light erupted from it - pink at its core with strands of gold and white energy swirling around it in perfect harmony. It was a beautiful sight, but Yrul was not prepared to give up that easily.
"Celestial Beast Magic: Twisted Howling!" he yelled, a golden wave of sound erupting from his mouth. Unlike Lars's attack, it's path was much more jagged
The two attacks collided, the impact causing the cavern to (finally) become unstable, rocks falling from everywhere. One was headed straight for Lars, but he used Infinite Thought Shield to stop it hitting him. Another landed straight on the winged serpent Vangelis, causing it to let out one last hiss and fall to the ground.
"Oh dear," Kirsch scoffed, his gold eyes looking down at the serpent with disdain. "What a truly unbeautiful way to die."
1 minute 40 seconds left
Lars finally let up his beam and rushed at Yrul, who raised his claws to block. The mind mage drove the tip of his scythe deeper into the beast mage's mana claws, yet he did not falter.
"Today, you committed an unredeemable act," Lars said, his voice turning into a low and guttural growl. "You took the life of a child who had so much in front of him, and so many people behind him. A child who should have lived to a grand old age, and died with his grandchildren surrounding him!"
"Foolishness!" Yrul spat, using a claw to create a deep gash in Lars's shoulder. "He was a sacrifice, a pawn to bring out the power of intellect so instinct could triumph over it once and for all!"
Unfazed by the pain, Lars raised a hand to Yrul's chest, his celestial wings, increasing in size.
1 minute 20 seconds left
"Celestial Mind Magic," the Mertens said, his eyes gleaming, his mouth carrying the weight of a spell which he had never cast before, "Sternenblick." His normally blue eyes turned gold and flashed with a radiant light.
In an instant, Yrul's mind was flooded with thought and possibilities, intrusive or otherwise, causing him to stagger back and howl like a dog, holding his head in pain. His brain was starting to overflow with every scenario, every plan he had made, everything that had happened, and it felt like the essence of who he was was being torn apart at the seams.
1 minute left
Lars's heart beat like the ticking of a clock, every second dragging him closer to a grim fate. But in that moment of quiet focus, a new sense of clarity washed over him. His connection with Iskra sharpened, his instincts aligning with a single, unshakable truth: Yrul had to fall now.
The Mind Mage shifted forward, his body moving like a predator with a purpose. His scythe, glowing with celestial energy, sliced through the air in a calculated arc, meeting Yrul's claws as they rose to block him. The two forces collided with a spark of magic, the sheer power sending ripples through the cavern.
Yrul's eyes burned with a maddened defiance as he locked his claws around Lars's scythe, his mana claws surging with violent energy. But Lars wasn't done yet. His mind had already calculated the next move, the next strike that would bring an end to this twisted game.
30 seconds left
Lars's gaze narrowed, focusing every shred of his intellect into the magic thrumming at his fingertips. The time for subtlety had passed. This would be decisive.
"Mind Magic: Neural Rapture."
In the blink of an eye, Lars's scythe pulsed with pink, ethereal energy. His blade shimmered like a ribbon of thought made solid, trailing a devastating aura of force. With a fluid motion, Lars swung the weapon horizontally, a slash that was not just physical or mental but metaphysical—a clean cut through the very fabric of existence itself.
The pink slash tore through the air, leaving a radiant wake of pure thought behind it. The space around it warped with the precision of intellect given form. A cascade of pink light blazed in a perfect arc, cutting through everything in its path—Yrul's mana claws, his body, and the very tether between him and Bashir's souls.
10 seconds left
The blow was so clean, so seamless, that it felt as if time itself had been sliced in two. Yrul's body was cleaved effortlessly in half, the ethereal slash moving through him like a force of nature. He let out a final, choked howl of disbelief, his form disintegrating into mist as his consciousness fragmented.
The tether that had bound him to Bashir's essence snapped, unraveling with the finality of a snapped thread. Lars's attack had severed the last link, freeing Bashir from the corrupting influence of Yrul's spirit.
5 seconds left
Lars stood over the wreckage, breathing heavily but victorious. The cavern around him continued to rumble, but the battle was finally over. Yrul was no more—his primal, unrelenting energy extinguished in a single, perfect strike.
As the last of the tension left the air, Lars's scythe lowered, the pink glow of his magic flickering out like the final embers of a dying fire. The storm had passed.
"You stupid bastard, Alexis," Lars chuckled, tears running down his face. "Why didn't you dodge…"
With that, he fell to the ground, the hands of fatigue finally pulling him into its abyss. The last thing he saw before his blackout was the spirit of Bashir hovering over him with an unreadable expression—was it gratefulness? Relief? Disgust? Lars didn't care.
Right now, all he wanted was to sleep his troubles away.
A/N: My longest chapter ever, and what a chapter (if I say so myself)
I had a lot of fun writing this arc
I'm disappearing for an unspecified amount of time because tests, so I gave you a double drop as a peace offering :)