Chapter 94: We Can Kill Him
Velcor swung both of his sabres at the Mertens siblings' throats, but before he could do anything, the world shifted around him, and both Lars and Frida were over him, their weapons raised.
One. Two.
The strikes landed on Velcor's back with deadly precision, blood spurting out of his back as he gritted his teeth in pain. Then his grimace turned into a grin of unnatural origin, as the blood droplets seemed to freeze in time in the air.
"Blood Magic: Crimson Shelling!" he yelled, and the droplets rushed at Lars and Frida, piercing them in a range and with a speed they couldn't react to in time. Both siblings cried out in sudden pain, leaping back.
"Amethyst Crystal Magic: Brutus Armour!" Frida yelled, the purple armour encasing her as she brandished King Solomon's Sword again, seemingly charging up an attack.
Lars, in the meantime, swept his hand slowly over his line of vision, and around 30 pink swords appeared in front of him, each gleaming with a menacing edge. In an instant, he used Virtual Insanity again to change the positions of himself, Frida and Velcor, so that he was located behind his enemy.
"Sword Rain," he intoned, and each sword flew at him with ruthless intent.
Velcor snarled as the mental constructs closed in, his movements fluid and vicious. Lars's swords rained down like a tempest, their razor-sharp edges slicing through the air with deadly precision. Velcor twirled his jagged blades, deflecting the majority of the constructs while darting toward Lars with alarming speed.
"Is this your grand strategy, boy?" Velcor spat, his amber eyes blazing. "Throwing illusions and constructs at me? I'll grind your mind to dust!"
The air trembled with the oppressive force of Velcor's mana. The sky above the battlefield had turned crimson, heavy with the weight of his blood-soaked magic, and the ground beneath his feet was stained with dark energy that pulsed like a living thing. Lars and Frida, standing side by side, were breathing heavily. Their bodies ached from the relentless clash, but their eyes burned with unyielding determination.
"You can't keep up," Velcor sneered, his voice distorted with an inhuman resonance. His jagged, blood-forged blades dripped with malice as he advanced. "Your family's blood is cursed—weakness runs in your veins. And now, you'll die proving me right."
Lars didn't respond immediately. Instead, he adjusted his grip on his glaive, its edge glowing faintly with golden and pink light. His Tiefe Analyse visor pulsed with information, feeding him details about Velcor's movements, his shifting mana, and even the subtle cracks forming in the blood mage's body from the strain of his grotesque transformation.
"Frida," Lars said quietly, his voice steady despite the chaos. "He's overclocking his body. He's trying to finish us before it tears itself apart."
Frida's Eye of Wisdom flashed, her gaze locking onto Velcor's distorted form. "I see it too," she muttered, her tone grim. "But he's not slowing down. If anything, he's getting more reckless."
Velcor's grin widened, hearing their exchange. "Reckless? No. This is power. Power you Mertens could never hope to achieve!" With a roar, he lunged forward, his blades screaming through the air.
Lars reacted instantly. He swept his hand through the air, summoning a Neural Guardian - a towering knight forged from shimmering golden mana. The construct blocked Velcor's strike, their clash sending out a shockwave that cracked the ground beneath them. The Neural Guardian retaliated, its colossal glaive swinging in a deadly arc, but Velcor ducked beneath the blow with inhuman agility, his blades slashing upward. The construct shattered into fragments of light.
Lars didn't flinch. His mind was already crafting a new strategy. As Velcor rushed him, he activated Mental Chains, spectral bindings erupting from the ground to ensnare the blood mage. For a moment, Velcor was immobilized, his muscles straining against the mental constructs.
"Got you," Lars muttered, raising his glaive.
But Velcor roared, the veins across his body bulging as his blood mana surged. The chains snapped like twigs, and he lunged forward, slamming his fist into Lars' chest. The impact sent Lars flying, his body crashing through the wall of a ruined house.
"Lars!" Frida cried, her mana flaring to life as she leapt in to intercept Velcor's follow-up strike. Their blades clashed in a dazzling explosion of purple and crimson mana, sparks flying as Frida gritted her teeth against the force of Velcor's assault.
"You're holding back, Vice Captain," Velcor taunted, his amber eyes gleaming with sadistic glee. "Afraid to go all out? Or is it because you know it won't matter?"
Frida didn't answer. She parried another strike, her Eye of Wisdom analyzing every movement, every fluctuation in Velcor's mana. Yet despite her skill, she was being pushed back. Velcor's strength was monstrous, his speed overwhelming. A diagonal slash slipped through her guard, slicing across her shoulder. Blood seeped from the wound, but she didn't falter.
Lars emerged from the rubble, his visor sparking as he reactivated Celestial Convergence. Golden and pink light surrounded him, his mana flaring with renewed intensity. His voice rang out, calm but resolute.
"Frida, switch with me," Lars said, his glaive glowing as he prepared a spell. "I'll take the lead."
Frida hesitated for a split second, then nodded, retreating to his side. Velcor paused, his predatory gaze shifting between the siblings.
"What is this?" Velcor sneered, his voice laced with mockery. "Another desperate gambit? Your tricks mean nothing to me."
Lars stepped forward, his visor gleaming. "It's not a trick. It's a strategy."
With a wave of his hand, he summoned Gedankenreich constructs: a dozen Mana Soldiers armed with spears and shields, their golden-and-pink forms shimmering like stars. At the same time, the battlefield began to shift - walls and barriers of pure mental energy rose around Velcor, boxing him in.
Velcor's smirk faltered. "You think this will stop me?"
Lars didn't respond. The Mana Soldiers charged, their spears striking in coordinated attacks. Velcor snarled, slashing through the constructs with wild, furious strikes, but as soon as one was destroyed, another took its place. The walls around him tightened, forcing him into a smaller and smaller space.
But Velcor was relentless. His blood mana surged, and with a deafening roar, he unleashed Blood Magic: Sanguine Reclamation, a crimson wave that obliterated the constructs and shattered the mental barriers. Lars staggered from the backlash, blood trickling from his nose, but he held his ground.
"You're slowing down," Velcor hissed, his grin feral. "Your little mind games won't save you now."
Frida's Eye of Wisdom flared brighter, showing her a vision.
A single, blinding moment of clarity.
She saw Lars falling. She saw herself standing alone. And she saw a choice: to let fear paralyze her, or to act.
Her choice would always be the latter.
"Not yet," Frida said, her voice trembling with power. She raised King Solomon's Sword, her Brutus Armor glowing with an intensity that rivaled the sun. Purple mana surged around her, coalescing into a form she'd never summoned before. "I won't let this end here. I won't let you fall!"
Velcor turned, his eyes narrowing. "What now?"
Frida's voice rose, steady and fierce.
"Amethyst Crystal Magic: Sint-Salvator's Reckoning!"
The battlefield froze. Above her, a massive crystal effigy of a guardian angel materialized, its wings outstretched, radiating divine fury. Its amethyst body sparkled with deadly brilliance, and its gaze locked onto Velcor with unrelenting judgment.
The angel descended.
The impact was cataclysmic. The ground buckled and split as the effigy slammed into Velcor, its wings cutting through his blood magic like paper. Shards of crystal exploded outward, the sheer force of the attack swallowing Velcor in a radiant storm.
Lars shielded his eyes, the light blinding even through his visor. When the brilliance faded, Velcor lay in a crater, his body broken and bloodied. He twitched, trying to rise, but his strength was gone.
Frida dropped to one knee, her breath ragged. "Lars… are you alright?"
Before Lars could answer, a guttural laugh echoed from the crater. Velcor, battered and broken, forced himself to his feet. His blood mana flared weakly, but his grin remained defiant.
Velcor's bloodied form twitched, his once-proud posture now barely held together by sheer will. His body had been shredded, torn apart by the devastating impact of Frida's Sint-Salvator's Reckoning. Yet his grin - wide, manic, and dripping with malice - refused to fade. His blood mana surged erratically, pulsing like a heartbeat that refused to stop, despite the ruin his body had become. His amber eyes gleamed with a hatred that had only deepened in his suffering.
Lars and Frida exchanged a glance. Velcor was weaker, but the fight wasn't over. Not yet.
Together, they would end it.
"You think you've won?" Velcor spat, the words slurring with exhaustion. "Your pathetic magic... your family's shameful legacy... none of it matters in the end. You Mertens are cursed. Cursed to fall. I've seen it. I've felt it."
Lars and Frida stood side by side, their breath labored but determined. Frida's heart hammered in her chest, her muscles screaming for relief, but the pulse of her Eye of Wisdom was steady, unwavering. She couldn't let go, not yet. Not while Velcor still stood—if that's what you could even call what was left of him.
Lars, his glaive dripping with dark energy, tightened his grip. His mind churned as he processed every fragment of information his visor fed him. Velcor had pushed them to their limits, but Lars had one last card to play - a card that could change everything.
"I'm not afraid of your curses, Velcor," Lars's voice was low, unwavering, as he met Velcor's amber gaze. "I'm not afraid of what you think you know. You'll never understand our bond. Not like we do."
Frida's amethyst armor gleamed, its light flickering like the embers of a dying fire, but her determination had never burned brighter. She rose to her feet, slowly, and as she did, the battlefield seemed to pause, the air heavy with the anticipation of the inevitable.
Velcor let out a cruel laugh, his chest heaving with pain and spite. "Bonds? You think your bonds will save you? In the end, power is all that matters. I've embraced it all. Every last drop of my blood, I've poured into this magic—into this fight. And it will be your downfall!"
Frida's eyes narrowed, her voice steady despite the surge of anger within her. "We're not afraid of you, Velcor. You're nothing but a monster—something born from rage and hatred. And I'll stop you."
Before Velcor could retort, he lashed out, his jagged sabres moving with unnatural speed and precision, carving through the air toward Frida's throat. The world slowed for a moment as Lars's mind sharpened, a singular thought piercing through the chaos of the battlefield.
"Frida, get ready."
Frida's muscles tensed. She didn't need to ask why—she knew. It was a dance they had perfected over the years. She raised her arm just in time to deflect the deadly blow, but the force of the impact sent her stumbling back. Velcor's blades gleamed with bloodlust, and he didn't relent, following up with a second slash that caught Frida across her side, blood spilling in an instant.
Frida gasped, the searing pain flooding her senses, but before Velcor could strike again, her Brutus Armor flared in a violent explosion of purple light. Her body shimmered with a renewed intensity as she invoked her Amethystos Vitalis, weaving the small, healing crystals into her armor's framework. Her wounds sealed in an instant, the pain dulling as her energy surged with unnatural vigor.
But it came at a cost. Frida's mana drained rapidly, her reserves sinking lower as the magic flooded her body, making her near invincible, but also dangerously fragile. Her aura radiated with a brilliance that rivaled the sun, yet each movement came at the price of precious mana, the energy crackling in the air with a sense of finality.
Velcor's eyes widened, rage building within him. "So you can heal yourself! You think that will save you?" His voice cracked with fury as his blades whipped through the air, their jagged edges cutting through the space with deadly intent. "You cannot run from fate! You cannot escape me!"
Frida stood her ground, the Amethystos Vitalis magic coursing through her veins as she deflected each strike with a newfound strength. Her body was no longer merely a vessel for her magic - it was a weapon, a conduit of divine fury.
But Velcor was relentless, each attack an extension of his hate, a desperate attempt to break her down. The air crackled with the intensity of their battle, as though the very fabric of reality was being tested by their clash. The ground beneath them trembled, the once-strong walls of the battlefield cracking and crumbling under the force of their confrontation.
Frida's breaths came in sharp gasps as she blocked another blow, barely managing to stay on her feet. "Lars…" she managed to say, her voice strained but fierce. "He's pushing me to the edge…"
Lars's mind was a whirlwind of calculations, analyzing every movement, every twitch of Velcor's warped form. He could feel the weight of Frida's struggle. His sister, always so strong, was nearing her limit. Velcor's viciousness was far from over, but Lars had a plan—something that could finally turn the tide in their favor.
A sudden flash of insight pierced through his consciousness.
"Celestial Mind Magic: Neural Synchrony!"
The link between their minds - Lars, Frida, and even the hidden presence of Iskra - was formed in a moment, their consciousnesses bound in a shared connection. Their thoughts and actions merged into one seamless, synchronized force.
Iskra's voice echoed in Lars's mind, her tone tinged with satisfaction. This is exactly what you needed, Lars. You've finally found the answer for yourself.
Frida's gaze met Lars's, their minds working in perfect harmony. They didn't need to speak. Every movement, every decision was made in an instant—each step guided by the collective force of their bond. The battlefield shifted, their coordinated attacks becoming an unstoppable wave of power.
Velcor growled, sensing the shift, his blood magic flaring as he lashed out with renewed fury. "You think you can stand against me? You Mertens are nothing but a plague upon this world! This is your end!"
He roared, his body trembling with the effort as he unleashed a final, devastating surge of blood mana, 100% of his power. The sky above them cracked, the very air vibrating with the sheer force of his unleashed magic.
Lars and Frida braced themselves, their bond fortified by their shared consciousness, the battlefield now a chaotic storm of mana and shattered reality.
Velcor's form was nearly unrecognizable, his body scarred and mangled, the remnants of his once-pristine blood magic consuming him from the inside out. But still, he stood, or at least, he tried to stand.
"I've forsaken everything," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "I've forsaken my life… for this moment. And you… you'll never escape the fate I've seen for you."
Lars's mind burned with clarity. He mentally spoke to Frida. Create an opening for me.
Frida's eyes met his once more. The trust between them was absolute. She nodded. A single, vital opening that would decide everything.
Lars's gaze locked onto that opening. He could feel the power of their shared mind, the combined force of their magic pulsing through him. This was the moment.
The battlefield crackled with tension as Lars and Frida stood side by side, their forms illuminated by the eerie glow of magical energy. Velcor loomed before them, his molten amber eyes gleaming like twin furnaces, and his iron mask twisted into a cruel, lifeless sneer. The blood mage's grotesque figure radiated power, his magic pulsating in waves that shook the ground beneath their feet. Yet, Lars's focus was unyielding, his naginata gripped tightly in his hands as his mana surged with purpose.
"Frida," Lars said, his voice steady despite the storm raging around them. "Are you ready?"
Frida, perched atop her Glissando platform, her crystal magic shimmering faintly, shot him a sidelong glance. Her breath was ragged, her strength waning, but the fire in her gaze had not dimmed. "Always."
Velcor laughed, a deep, guttural sound that echoed like the toll of a death knell. "Pathetic. Even together, you Mertens whelps can't hope to stand against me. Your father made sure of that."
Lars flinched at the mention of their father, but his resolve only hardened. No more failures. No more running. His mana flared, rippling outward in golden arcs that crackled like lightning.
Frida raised her hand, her voice cutting through the chaos. "Amethyst Crystal Trap Magic: Juno's Judgment!"
A cascade of glittering amethyst crystals erupted from her outstretched fingers, weaving themselves into a complex, glowing lattice. The crystals encased Velcor in an intricate cage that shimmered with iridescent light, each bar humming with raw magical energy. Velcor roared in frustration, his blood magic surging against the restraints, but the cage held firm.
"Lars!" Frida shouted, her voice strained as the crystal cage absorbed each of Velcor's attempts to break free. "He's bound! Now's your chance!"
It's funny, because...never in my wildest dreams did I think I'd be assisting my brother.
I guess that's just how it is. The older siblings often make sacrifices.
This one feels good, though. Peaceful. Like it isn't a sacrifice, but a key to my cage.
Am I... really healing from years of hatred?
It feels nice.
Lars planted his feet firmly on the ground, his naginata glowing with a vibrant pink, gold and white light as his mana surged into it. His grimoire hovered beside him, its pages flipping wildly as if caught in a storm. The spell's name burned itself into the air, the magic searing with intensity.
"Mind Magic: Neural Rapture!"
The naginata trembled in his hands as the spell reached its apex. Lars slashed downward, but the blade didn't just cut - it tore. A thin, vibrating line of pink light extended from the weapon's tip, splitting the very fabric of the space before him. The line wasn't just visible; it was a raw, unfiltered rift in reality, humming with an otherworldly resonance.
Velcor's amber eyes widened as the dimensional slash raced toward him. It was a perfect, razor-thin arc of obliteration, slicing cleanly through the crystal cage as though it were paper. The spell reached Velcor in an instant, cutting through him with a soundless precision that was almost anticlimactic.
In that suspended moment, Lars's thoughts collided in a maelstrom of clarity. Every question, every doubt, every failure he'd ever endured burned away, replaced by a multitude of powerful, undeniable truths.
I'm not a weapon.
I'm not my father's experiment.
I fight because I care, because I choose to.
I fight for myself, the Coral Peacocks, and my friends.
My life, my magic - it's mine to wield, not his to control.
It's over now, Velcor. Rot in hell.
Velcor raised his arms, blood tendrils lashing out in a desperate attempt to halt the inevitable. But Lars's resolve was unbreakable. With a roar that shook the heavens, he brought the glaive crashing down.
The moment of impact was cataclysmic. The Neural Rapture tore through Velcor with surgical precision, the spiraling energy carving a perfect, seamless line straight through his torso. The blood mage's body stood frozen for an agonizing heartbeat, his molten eyes wide with shock.
And then, like a piece of fragile porcelain, Velcor split in half.
His body didn't dissolve or fade away, like Yrul's. It fell apart with terrifying finality, each half collapsing to the ground with a sickening thud. Blood and gore spattered the battlefield, but Lars's slash had cauterized the wound as it passed, leaving the edges of Velcor's body charred and smoking. The earth beneath him cracked and blackened, the lingering energy of the spell seeping into the ground.
Velcor's iron mask tumbled from his severed face, landing with a dull clang at Lars's feet. The molten amber eyes dimmed, their sinister glow snuffed out like a dying flame. The battlefield fell silent, the oppressive weight of Velcor's presence evaporating like morning mist.
Lars stood frozen, the glowing arc of the Neural Rapture fading into nothingness. His breathing was ragged, his hands trembling from the sheer magnitude of the spell. The naginata's tip sank into the ground as he used it to steady himself, his mind reeling.
He turned to Frida, who was dismounting her Glissando platform, her legs trembling with exhaustion.
Their gazes met, and for the first time in what felt like an eternity, there was no animosity, no lingering resentment. Only understanding.
Lars extended a fist, his knuckles bloodied but steady. "We did it," he said simply.
Frida stared at him for a moment, then smirked faintly. She bumped her fist against his, the gesture small but monumental. "Yeah," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "We did."
And then she collapsed.
Frida's voice was faint as she murmured, "Juno's Judgment… It shouldn't have held him that long. I thought I'd lost my touch." Her laugh was weak, self-deprecating. "Maybe I still have something left to fight for."
Lars crouched beside her, his own fatigue threatening to pull him under. "You've always had something to fight for, Frida. You just forgot for a while." His eyes met hers, and for the first time in years, they shared a moment of unspoken understanding.
Frida's lips quirked into the smallest of smiles before her eyes fluttered closed. Her breathing evened out as unconsciousness claimed her, her exhaustion finally catching up. Lars stayed by her side, his own body begging for rest, but he didn't move. Not yet.
The chamber was eerily quiet now, the tension evaporating like mist in the sun. Lars's mind flickered back to every question that had haunted him - about his purpose, his failures, his father's shadow looming over him.
But for the first time, the answers didn't feel so far out of reach.
This was why he fought. Not for Ellion, not for the Mertens name, but for the people he could protect. For his squadmates. For Frida. For himself.
Lars glanced down at his sister, her features softened in rest, and exhaled slowly. The battle was over, but their fight wasn't. It never would be. And maybe that was okay.
The questions that had haunted them about their father, their failures, their worth - they all felt distant now, their edges dulled by the clarity of their triumph. Velcor was gone, and with him, one more piece of Ellion Mertens's shadowy legacy. For the first time in years, Lars felt like he could breathe.
As the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon, painting the battlefield in hues of gold and crimson, Lars stood tall, Frida safe in his arms. The fight was far from over, but for now, they had won. And that was enough.
A/N: the vel/cor mini arc is finished! and i'm just realising something.
i love neural rapture way too much - can you blame me though?
also, for my 100th chapter, would you like to see a bunch of headcanons/character profiles? obviously it's going to take a bit more time, maybe like a week (because all of my headcanons are massive - you know what else is massive?) but i think it would be a nice break from everything.
also i updated chapter 26 (changed the noble family that rela killed's name) so see what you can infer from that
keep in mind rela is not dead and still an active member of the eye, and the raid is about to begin