Chapter 93: If He Bleeds

The second Angel of Death swooped down from it's hovering position towards Frida, who smirked predatorially, yanking King Solomon's Sword from it's lodging place. Without a word, she rushed at the angel, aiming a clean cleave towards its head - but it dissipated into a pool of blood, in a manner similar to its master, and reappeared behind her.

Frida spun acrobatically, her purple, multifaceted blade gleaming in the moonlight, and with an almost murderous fire in her eyes, slashed straight through the Angel of Death.

Straight through being the key word. The angel was as unfazed as it could be.

"Shit… I missed the core," Frida muttered, as she switched her grip to once again do a diagonal slash.

But the crimson projection read through her and this time, blocked her feat of strength with its Crimson Sabre. Mechanically, it extended its grotesque hand, and its fingers (if they could even be called that) became tentacles of blood.

Instinctively, the amethyst crystal mage leapt back from the impending danger, using a crystal disc to give her more of a foothold, as she raised a hand.

"Amethyst Crystal Magic: Shattering Voile!" Frida said, raising her hand, a large purple crystal appearing in the air. It began to spin dramatically, and purple needles of crystal began to break off from it, careening towards the angel.

Lars, meanwhile, without the use of his most powerful spell in Gedankenreich, was going to have to innovate. Luckily, that was one of the things he did best.

He gritted his teeth as the first of the three Angels of Death rushed at him, its blood-saber crackling through the air, a storm of crimson fury. He barely had time to summon his thoughts into focus before the angel was upon him, its movements inhumanly quick, its aim true. With a calmness that bordered on cold, Lars raised his hand.

"Mind Magic: Tiefe Analyse."

A series of glowing symbols flickered before his eyes, revealing everything he needed to know—the angel's internal structure, its core, the way its magic was coursing through the mechanical veins beneath its skin. The core was nestled deep in its chest, shielded by layers of protective energy. Lars noted the subtle weaknesses, the flickers in its motion, and with a swift motion, he turned the analysis into action.

"Mind Magic: Kraftvoller Gedankenstoß!"

A sharp blast of pure mind energy shot out from his extended hand, aimed directly at the angel's chest. The force of the attack sent the angel staggering back, but it didn't shatter, didn't fall. Instead, it twisted, its mechanical form contorting as if taunting him. Lars's eyes narrowed.

Not enough.

The second angel, sensing the shift in the air, lunged from behind, its sabre cutting a deadly arc through the air. Lars sidestepped just in time, his mind already working the angles, already planning the next move.

Meanwhile, Frida was a whirlwind of motion, her body a blur as she danced around her two remaining angels. With each movement, the purple hue of her crystalline magic exploded in a cascade of deadly sharp shards, piercing the air and tearing at the blood projections like paper. She had already felled one, but now the others were proving more challenging. She ducked beneath a sweeping strike from the first angel, her sword flashing out to sever its arm in one clean stroke. The angel, unfazed, simply regenerated, its blood quickly pooling and reforming.

Frida smirked, her eyes lighting up with a dangerous gleam. She didn't need spells to defeat these things. Not yet.

With a graceful pivot, she launched herself into the air, spinning her body in an acrobatic arc. King Solomon's Sword was an extension of her will, and she swung it with lethal precision. The angel, sensing the attack, dissipated into a pool of blood, only to reappear behind her. Frida's eyes never wavered; she had already anticipated the move. Without breaking stride, she spun on her heel, meeting the angel's strike with a brutal counter, the sword biting deep into its chest, cleaving through blood and sinew.

But again, no core.

"I missed."

The second angel moved in again, but Frida was faster. Her sword whipped through the air, cutting through the crimson tentacles it had summoned with ease. She wasn't focused on the blood - it was just a distraction. Her eyes zeroed in on the core. She had to be quick, decisive.

With one fell swoop, she cut cleanly through it's core, the angel melting just as it raised it's sabre.

All of them gone. Now help Lars.

Back on Lars's end, the battle raged on. He was managing the onslaught with a cool, calculating precision, his mind working faster than ever before as he weaved between strikes. His hand, steady as stone, pulled his glaive from his back.

"Mind Magic: Telekinetic Thrust."

The glaive burst forward with a surge of mind energy, driven by his will. The first angel collided with it, but instead of the usual force of a normal attack, the thrust was enhanced, the energy moving through the weapon like a spear of sheer power. The angel was sent flying back, crashing into the dirt with a sickening thud. The core. It was exposed, flickering in the dim moonlight.

But Lars didn't hesitate.

"Mind Magic: Grand Catharsis."

He unleashed a shockwave, the raw power of his emotions slamming into the ground like an earthquake, sending the angel hurtling backward, disintegrating in a shower of blood and sparks. His heart was pounding, his breath steady despite the overwhelming exertion.

The first angel was down.

But there were still two more - and one had disappeared, nowhere to be seen.

Frida's expression darkened as the last angel made its move towards her brother. She rushed at it with a snarl, slicing through its blood tentacles with ruthless efficiency. It was agile, but not fast enough. Her crystal blade cleaved through its form, only to be met with another sickening disappointment—no core.

It was time for something different.

Frida grinned, her teeth gleaming like a predator closing in on its prey. She let her magic surge out of her, reshaping the crystals beneath her feet, crafting them into jagged blades that spun with deadly intent. The angel lunged, but Frida was already on the offensive. She danced through the air, her sword flashing as the crystal blades surrounded the angel like a storm of violet fury.

With a final, brutal swipe, she cleaved through its head, and simultaneously, its core, sending the angel's body tumbling to the ground, only to watch it dissolve into blood.

That left one.

But before she could take another step, a dark laugh filled the air, echoing through the battlefield like a chilling gust of wind. Velcor, perched on his high vantage point, had been watching their every move with an unnerving amusement. His iron mask gleamed in the moonlight as he finally descended from his perch, his presence alone sending a ripple of dread through the remaining villagers.

But Lars… Lars didn't flinch.

His mind pulsed again, and in that moment, something else happened. The familiar, comforting presence surged back into his consciousness, like a warm hand reaching out from a distant void. He felt her, the celestial, Iskra—the Celestial of Intellect, her energy flooding into his grimoire, intertwining with his thoughts like a second heartbeat.

She had come.

And with her presence, a surge of power flooded his body, his eyes flickering with renewed intensity as they locked onto Velcor.

"Time's up," Lars said, voice cold as steel.

"Time, my dear Mertens, is never truly up," Velcor laughed, clapping his hands sinisterly. "And you're forgetting, you haven't defeated my final angel yet.

Right on cue, the last remaining Angel of Death rushed at Lars, its sabre ready to pierce straight through his head.

But Lars didn't flinch, raising his hand towards it. "Celestial Mind Magic: Stratagem of a True Genius!"

The beam cascaded forth from his hand in a brilliant burst of pink and gold light that absolutely obliterated the remaining Angel of Death, illuminating the ghost town.

"Be careful," Frida warned her brother. "We need to minimize collateral damage."

"Right," Lars said. Velcor, overhearing their conversation, laughed again.

"Mertens boy," the blood mage said, "collateral damage is the best part."

With that, he raised his hand, and an innocent civilian - a girl of about 14 - was pulled towards him, her neck clamping itself to his hand.

"Blood Magic: Essence Shatter!" he declared, and the girl began to convulse grotesquely, her screams caught in her throat by her lack of air.

"Put her down, you bastard!" Lars yelled, rushing towards him, but it was too late.

CRACK

The girl's lifeless body began to foam at the mouth, and she was still once more, her cries forever lost to the throes of time. Velcor dropped her, and in one swift motion, stamped on her head, her skull shattering.

"See? Wasn't that beautiful?" Velcor smiled, removing his mask, casting it aside so that his twisted visage was now in full view to a rage-filled Lars. "My only regret is that it only works on those less in mana than me."

The Mertens in question's fist clenched, his barely restrained fury shining through his eyes. He raised a trembling hand. "Celestial Mind Magic: Königlich Gedankenreich!"

The pink wisps of mind energy once again began to spread through the terrain. Lars wasted absolutely no time, creating three Mind Wardens with a snap of his finger.

"Go and locate the remaining survivors and gather them. Protect them from anything possibly incoming," Lars said, and the silent towering sentries lumbered in three different directions, their mission eerily clear.

"So we're done playing games," Frida said through clenched teeth, her anger also great at the girl's grotesque death, then removed her eyepatch carefully, the glow of the Eye of Wisdom intensifying throughout the night.

"Lars," Iskra said. "This man… is he the one who cursed you?"

Lars said nothing, but gave an affirmative nod.

"Well, well! A Celestial in the flesh!" Velcor declared, spreading his arms wide, and two twin blood sabres appeared in his hands. "And she knows who I am? I'm honoured!"

"Lars Mertens," Iskra said. "This man is too dangerous to be alive. It is imperative that you end him today."

Lars's face darkened, and Iskra continued.

"Experimentation with curses is one of the things I detest people using their natural intellect to do the most," the celestial said, her voice growing slightly louder. "Someone such as himself filled with malice will undoubtedly use that dangerous field of knowledge for evil."

"You're telling me things I already know," Lars said, the glow of Königlich Gedankenreich intensifying.

"Whatever the case, I will lend you all of my power to defeat him," Iskra declared, her eyes blazing as she sat on Lars's shoulder cross-legged.

"Are you 100% sure this is an optimal position?" Lars said, getting into a battle ready stance.

"Stop faffing about and get ready to defeat him," Frida snarled, the Eye glowing as if it agreed with her statement.

"Do you know why blood has such an affinity for carrying curses, Lars, Frida?" Velcor said, matching Lars's battle ready stance with a taunting, almost mocking one of his own.

His blood sabres gleamed ominously as he advanced toward the siblings, his steps measured, deliberate. The battlefield stilled for a moment, the oppressive weight of his presence suffocating the air. Lars and Frida stood shoulder to shoulder, their gazes locked on the advancing blood mage.

"I'll ask again," Velcor said, his voice dripping with mockery. "Do you know why blood is the perfect carrier for curses?"

Frida's response was immediate - a sharp thrust of her blade aimed at his heart. Velcor twisted his body with inhuman grace, narrowly avoiding the strike. Her momentum carried her forward, and Velcor seized the opportunity, spinning to bring one sabre down toward her exposed back.

Lars intercepted, his glaive sweeping upward with a crackling burst of mana. The collision of their weapons sent shockwaves rippling through the ground. Lars gritted his teeth, the force of Velcor's attack threatening to drive him into the dirt.

Velcor's grin widened as he pressed down harder. "Blood," he continued, "is more than life. It's a language, a lifestyle. A script written in iron and mana, waiting to be deciphered. A slippery path only the most cunning, the most psychotic can walk."

Lars snarled, pushing back with all his strength, his feet digging into the earth. The glaive's haft trembled under the strain, but Velcor's strength was monstrous, his sabres unyielding.

"Stop talking!" Lars barked, shoving the blade aside and twisting into a counterattack. The tip of his weapon arced toward Velcor's neck, but the blood mage ducked effortlessly, spinning low and sweeping one sabre toward Lars's legs.

Lars leapt back just in time, the sabre missing him by inches. The ground beneath his feet erupted as Velcor followed up with a wide slash, a wave of blood energy carving through the dirt.

Frida was on him in an instant, her blade slashing downward with surgical precision. Velcor sidestepped again, his sabres moving like twin vipers to deflect her strikes. The two clashed in a blur of steel and crimson light, their movements too fast for the eye to follow.

"Do you know," Velcor said, parrying one of Frida's strikes with ease, "that this chemical, this divine gift - allows blood to bind with mana more intimately than any other substance?"

"Shut up!" Frida growled, her blade flickering with silver light as she aimed for his throat.

Velcor stepped inside her guard, his sabres crossing to catch her weapon. With a sharp twist, he wrenched it from her grip and drove his knee into her stomach.

Frida staggered back, clutching her midsection, and Velcor didn't hesitate. He spun toward her, one sabre arcing down toward her exposed side.

Lars intercepted again, his naginata slamming into Velcor's sabre with a deafening crack. The impact sent vibrations up his arms, but he held firm, meeting Velcor's predatory gaze with a defiance that burned in his chest.

"Your little celestial hasn't told you this, has she?" Velcor sneered, leaning into their locked weapons. "The Goddess gave humans mana, but she gave me understanding."

Lars growled and twisted his weapon, forcing Velcor to disengage. He lunged forward, his strikes coming faster now, more precise. Velcor moved like a shadow, weaving through the attacks with infuriating ease.

"Lars, focus!" Iskra's voice rang in his mind, sharp and commanding.

"I am focusing!" he shot back, spinning the glaive in a wide arc to force Velcor back.

"Not enough!" Iskra snapped. "He's reading you, step by step. You're reacting to him, not the other way around."

Lars's breath caught in his throat. She was right. Every move he made felt like it played into Velcor's hands, as if the blood mage were conducting the battle like a symphony.

Velcor seemed to sense his hesitation. He closed the distance in a heartbeat, one sabre slashing toward Lars's neck.

The pink glow of Lars's mind magic flared, and his body moved instinctively. He ducked under the strike and countered with a quick thrust, but Velcor twisted away, his second sabre coming down toward Lars's exposed back.

A barrier of pink energy erupted between them, stopping the blade an inch from Lars's skin. Velcor's grin faltered for a fraction of a second, but it was enough.

Lars surged forward, slamming the haft of his glaive into Velcor's chest. The blood mage stumbled, and Frida rejoined the fight with a furious slash toward his head.

Velcor dropped low, the edge of her blade slicing a thin line across his nose. He kicked upward, his foot connecting with her wrist and sending her weapon flying again.

"You're both so predictable," Velcor said, rising to his feet with a lazy flourish of his sabres. "Your techniques are impressive, but they lack imagination. You've no idea how to use the gifts you've been given."

Lars's jaw clenched. His thoughts raced, analyzing every move, every opening. He could feel Königlich Gedankenreich pulsing around him, feeding him information, guiding his actions. But it wasn't enough. Velcor's speed, his strength… it was overwhelming.

"Iskra," Lars said through gritted teeth. "If you've got any brilliant ideas, now's the time."

"Stop thinking like a soldier and start thinking like a strategist," Iskra said. "Your greatest strength isn't your magic or your weapon. It's your mind."

Velcor launched himself at them again, his sabres flashing like lightning. Lars moved on instinct, parrying one strike while sidestepping the other. His movements felt sharper now, more fluid, as if the magic itself were becoming an extension of his will.

Frida flanked Velcor, her strikes coming faster and harder, forcing the blood mage to divide his attention. The siblings moved in tandem, their attacks coordinated, their rhythm seamless.

For the first time, Velcor's grin faded.

"Interesting," he muttered, deflecting a strike from Lars only to be met with a slash from Frida. He spun away, his breathing heavier now, but his eyes burned with fury.

"You're learning," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "But it won't be enough."

Velcor raised his sabres, and the air around him darkened, the crimson glow intensifying. The siblings braced themselves as a wave of blood energy surged toward them, the ground quaking beneath their feet.

Lars tightened his grip on his glaive, his mind racing. He could feel the limits of his magic pressing down on him, the strain of the battle taking its toll. But he wouldn't back down.

"I tire of your games, Mertens siblings," the blood mage declared, his amber eyes narrowing. "The hour is upon us for you to sing a song of sorrow in a world where blood holds its dominion."

Mana began to converge around Velcor, malevolent in nature. Frida's Eye of Wisdom flashed purple again.

"The mana is crying…" she muttered, steeling herself once again. "It's like it's being forced into him…"

"What's his game?" Lars said through clenched teeth as he gripped his glaive tighter.

"Be grateful," Velcor ordered, his crimson sabres dripping malevolently. "I haven't used this in ages."

"Blood Magic: Mana Zone - Devil's Advocate!"

Velcor's smirk deepened as the air around him turned crimson, his blood mana twisting into grotesque shapes that coiled and snapped like living serpents. His body began to change, sinew and muscle swelling unnaturally as his aura grew oppressive. The sabres in his hands melted into streams of blood, reshaping into jagged, obsidian-like blades that radiated malice. His amber eyes burned brighter, taking on a feral, predatory sheen, and black veins crawled across his pale skin.

"You should feel honored," Velcor sneered, his voice now distorted, layered with a guttural, inhuman resonance. "Few have witnessed this form and lived to remember it."

Frida stepped back instinctively, her eyes darting as her Eye of Wisdom analyzed the surging mana. "His body… he's forcing it to channel too much. It's breaking down and rebuilding at the same time."

Velcor moved before she could finish, a blur of crimson and black. His blade screamed through the air, and Frida barely managed to conjure a crystal barrier. It shattered on impact, fragments exploding outward as the force of the strike sent her skidding back, coughing from the effort.

Lars lunged to intercept, his glaive spinning in a wide arc aimed at Velcor's exposed side. Velcor caught it effortlessly with his jagged blade, the collision sending a shockwave that cracked the ground beneath them. With a snarl, he pushed forward, forcing Lars to retreat under a relentless barrage of strikes that came too fast to parry cleanly.

"You're slowing down, boy," Velcor taunted, his strikes unrelenting. "Your little tricks won't save you now."

Lars ducked a diagonal slash, pivoting to thrust his weapon toward Velcor's midsection, but the blood mage sidestepped, his elbow snapping into Lars' jaw with brutal precision. The impact sent Lars reeling, and Velcor pressed the advantage, kicking him squarely in the chest and sending him crashing into a dead family's house.

Frida grit her teeth as she let Athena's Arrow fly. "Why can't I do what I did against Lars?"

The crystal projectile streaked towards Velcor, but his blade sliced so cleanly through it that it continued its trajectory in two separate halves, careening to either side of Velcor.

"I don't sense any devilish magic… so why is that form such an abomination to all of my senses?" Iskra said, hovering over Lars as he struggled to his feet.

"I thought you'd know this," Lars said, watching Frida and the blood mage clash blades as they swung at each other's necks over and over again. "It's an abomination because he's subjugating the mana, forcing it through his body to boost the rate of mana transfer in his bloodstream."

"Which means he can release attacks, Mana Skin, or anything of the sort faster," Iskra said. "It's unnervingly brilliant."

"Then let's stop wasting time and put his unnerving brilliance to an end," Lars said. He exhaled, and immediately there was a brilliant flash of golden, pink and white light.

Celestial Convergence.

His Tiefe Analyse visor flickered to life once again. Frida and Velcor's heads snapped towards him. Frida smirked, half annoyed that her brother hadn't used this sooner, and half excited that he'd finally stopped playing around. Velcor's eyes, in contrast, widened in something close to fear.

"What is this?" he said, leaping back from his clash with Frida. His body was now fully turned towards the mind mage, Lars's demeanour eerily calm compared to before - a stark contrast to Velcor's. "What folly is this, Lars Mertens?!"

Lars stepped forward, the ground cracking beneath his feet. His voice was calm, but it carried the weight of unshakable resolve.

"Folly? No, that's wholly inaccurate. This is the embodiment of intelligence. My Celestial Convergence."

He took another step, and Velcor, like a cornered animal, reflexively stepped back. "You filth!" he spat. "You think you can defy your generational curse?! Your defeat is predetermined."

""I've already broken one curse," Lars said, Frida coming to stand by his side, and the two got into their fighting stance. "I can break another!"

"Then show me!" Velcor yelled, rushing at them with a primal growl. "The time for words is over!"

A/N: Sorry if this chapter is a bit shorter than usual. I... have no excuse, I just felt that that was a good time to cut off the chapter.