The Harvester

Tier 1. What did the System consider a spell to be the apogee of magic? 

Rakna had yet to learn or craft a spell of that rank. Tier 0 was not worth mentioning, as it was an anomaly rather than a superior achievement. So, he asked himself, what would he need to create a perfect spell?

His stars had power beyond imagination, but by themselves, it wasn't enough. The Obsidian Star was yet too 'immature' to be molded flawlessly.

So, the answer was obvious. He had to dig deeper. 

Forget Obsidian. Forget Everfrost. Forget Neverwinter. None of those would help him. At the end of the day, his magic has always been something simpler, hasn't it?

Thus, he reached out and the stars waned. 

The sky didn't need them anymore; he alone was enough in this instant.

"[Nān… Nambikkaiyin Naṭcattiram]."

* * *

Ranka raised her head and her eyes briefly danced with a glittering radiance. She looked up and clicked her tongue. "Really? You're sabotaging yourself now?" She grumbled irritatedly. 

But compared to everyone else, her reaction was lukewarm at best.

"Uh…?" Ramsa stared at her hands in shock, seeing something others couldn't… or maybe not, as a simple glance upward would allow you to see the sun missing. Her Domain weakened, but not as much as she would have expected from such an apocalyptic sight.

And every other star in the sky suffered a similar fate. The moons lost the glow that they usually reflected from the sun as well.

"The flames…!" Soma exclaimed startled as the Lunisolar Blaze began to dwindle; the only thing left here that was still providing them light.

"Of course," Ranka huffed. "I constructed this spell with the concept of a star. And inherently, the solar power inside of it is also going out of balance due to obvious reasons."

"What is going on exactly?" Zikserth asked anxiously.

"My dumbass of an original has decided to recall every single piece of Star Energy in the vicinity. They're not disappearing," she lazily pointed at where the sun used to be. "It's actually still there. It's more accurate to say that he is sucking in everything they are releasing, including their light, within a certain range."

"What kind of…"

"Well, not like it matters at this point," she muttered to herself right as the Earth began to shake for what was going to be the last time, something Tarasque was the first to notice.

"{The planet's gravitational field…}" The beast started. "{…is bending.}"

His words were proven as soon as the atmosphere began to thin down and fall apart. "This is not good," Soma frowned and waved his hand at the demons who were growing nervous, erecting a small barrier of lunar energy around each of them. 

"I will send them up first. They have channeled my formation long enough to form a link to me. Is that fine with you?" The Moon God asked Zikserth who nodded. 

"Await our return," the Demon King told his commanders as they exchanged glances. Their help was not required here anymore and the city had long been evacuated. Rather than support, they might become a liability. Faruth quietly nodded before they were taken by the moonlight.

At the same time, mountains and hills sticking out of the Lunisolar Blaze started crumbling. The pieces fell into the sea of flames with sizzling noises. And instead of getting stronger, the shaking decreased until it stopped altogether.

Eventually, a whirlpool the size of continents formed within the white-silver flames. It was as if it was being drained through a hole. But the truly distressing part was the brassy and low-pitched rumble that accompanied it.

Ranka grimaced as her entire body vibrated from the sound alone.

"Was that… a growl?" Astraea uttered in surprise.

"…I don't suppose that is you doing that?" Ramsa asked whilst staring at the whirlpool.

"I'm afraid not," the werewolf deadpanned. With her eyes half-closed, the marks of Crystal Sight were dim. "Though, what I can tell you is…"

She didn't finish her sentence as half of her flames were lifted like a veil.

Two uncanny and gigantic limbs burst through. They were like spider legs, though much thicker, with spikes on the inner side, scales on it, and oddly shaped claws at the ends. Most importantly, they had at least a dozen joints, allowing them to contort in every possible direction.

The rest appeared next. In contrast with the Pasqats, this time, it was no skeleton at all. 

The head was somewhat wide, with large triangular eyes. It sported black fur, almost like hair, if it wasn't for how long and eerily stiff it was. Rather than either of those descriptions, it would be more accurate to call it an organic cloak.

The creature's mouth was wide open, but there were no teeth to be seen. It was gurgling down the Lunisolar Blaze like a common drink and seemingly storing it inside a throat pouch within its wide and short neck.

Attached below that neck was a statuesque, quadrupedal main body. The throat pouch bloating with heat and silver-white light extended to its belly, similarly to a frog's vocal sac. Its hind legs were rather short while its front ones were abnormally large, as if it had been shaped based on the proportions of a sphinx.

"I don't know…" Astraea muttered in disbelief. "I don't know this one either…"

"…" Ranka was impassive as always. Even as her flames were being stolen from her, she showed no hint of trepidation. She angled her neck to stare at the creature large enough to obstruct half the moons and practically the entire sun had it still been there.

"That's still an undead, is it not?" Zikserth raised his voice. "Shouldn't those flames be poison to it?"

The therian shrugged her shoulders. "Evidently, it has to do with its physiology. I don't know the name or the abilities of this creature, but it's obvious that he's not ingesting the flames. If I had to guess… there's probably some kind of separate dimension in its throat sac."

"…it's going to fire that back at us as soon as it's done snacking, isn't it?" Astraea grumbled.

"Can you not dispel your flames?" Ramsa asked.

"I can't. This thing has hijacked them," Ranka sighed. "If you have any suggestions, I'm all ears. I don't have enough power to deal with this in a practical way."

"…neither do I," Soma's expression darkened. "At best, I can launch one last attack."

"I'm in an even worse state," Ramsa added with a shake of her head.

"…I have some energy left in the tank," Zikserth muttered and glanced at Tarasque, who growled tiredly.

"{Me too, somewhat… my body's still fine, but my mana is low,}" the beast followed up.

Ranka looked at the last person and Astraea immediately flailed her head and arms. "No, no! No way! I can't do anything either! I've been running on fumes for a while now. If it wasn't for Lord Monarch's soul power, I would have already disappeared when I summoned Odin."

At the same time, vibrations originating from the massive creature's mouth coursed through the atmosphere loosely kept together by the literal gravitation pole of its own body.

Zikserth winced, "Damn it… this thing's voice alone makes me feel like coughing blood."

Ranka observed the monster, that most likely used to live in the Lost Era and noted that about eighty percent of her flames had been swallowed. "No choice…" She complained to herself and grudgingly extended her empty hand toward Soma. "Give it to me."

"Uh?" The Moon God blinked at her. "Give you what?"

"The stubborn fucker's sword," she snapped impatiently.

Soma's eyes widened slightly and waved his hand, bringing the daunting greatsword from within his spatial storage. Even owner-less, it still put everyone on edge. "What are you going to do with it?" He asked whilst tossing it to her.

Ranka silently swiped the weapon for herself. She glared at the blade and wrapped it with all the soul power and mana she could muster. "The fact you kept this thing inside your storage without noticing anything is comical," she snorted. 

"Let's make it quick," she spoke to the sword as if it were alive. "I'll let you borrow 'me'. Take the rest of my power and finish things here. Once you're done, return to Rakna."

In response, the blade began to suck in the energy she was giving it. The 'cardinal colors' circled the sword and glowed brightly. Ranka harrumphed and closed her eyes. After a few seconds, her soul power and mana were consumed in their entirety.

And on cue, a completely different type of both surged from the greatsword. They swallowed her body and filled it with a new existence. The nanites began to buzz. They became agitated and her flesh broke down into hives of nanomaterial. Her silhouette expanded until it resembled nothing close to a human. However, it was temporary.

The nanites were quickly compressed into a humanoid shape and a new person was left gripping the sword. A pair of shining red eyes opened and a mane of black hair fluttered. A man radiating power and harmony lifted his sword.

Zikserth gasped despite himself and everybody held their breath. Ramsa reflexively snapped her head toward the Lunar Seal to confirm it was still in place.

"Aah… what a splendid physique," Bhumi calmly raised his voice as he awakened fully. He stared at his empty hand and closed it. Veins and muscles contracted along his arm for a split second. "If it's with this… my limits can be overcome," he smiled to himself.

▂▂▂▃▃▃▃▂▂▂▂▅▅!

The reborn god raised his head at the unearthly voice. Every cell inside his body trembled due to the vibrations that seemed to rattle the fabric of space itself. The undead behemoth had finished swallowing every last ember of Lunisolar Blaze. At this point, the only source of light remaining in the surroundings was the purple shell of Rakna's Soul Marble in the distance.

"…I know what you are," Bhumi uttered to the monster. "I was part of your master's hivemind up until a few minutes ago," his voice sounded peaceful; almost gentle. "You were called… if I am not mistaken, Scourge of The Great Cavern, Haltoan Gran'ka."

In response, the creature rumbled intelligibly and opened its mouth wide. The white-silver glow of the flames it had stored in its throat sac began to change hues. Oddly enough, rainbow-colored energy pooled inside its mouth, devouring the Lunisolar Blaze to grow in intensity.

"I see," Bhumi inclined his head. "I was under the impression that you were a fearsome, but wise being. But it seems you suffer from the same misfortune as I," he remarked and adopted a very orthodox stance.

He gripped his sword with both hands and held it straight to the front. Spiritual Intent imbued with four very specific elements escaped through his fingers in the form of smoke. Despite being immobile, the blade sang as if it was ready to cut; it spread throughout space like a ripple.

For a moment, Bhumi's arms blurred as well and he smiled. "The Art carved into this body… it is quite 'prideful'. Hm, understood. I shall gratefully let it use me," he chuckled and closed his eyes.

At this moment, Soma's group collectively retreated, sweat running down their faces. The Intents released by Bhumi had become one and expanded significantly. One could not possibly attribute the concept of size to Spiritual Intent, but if they had to; it easily surpassed Haltoan.

'…he sealed himself long before we did,' Soma thought as he gazed at Bhumi's back. He realized now why Ranka had emphasized separating his undead self from the sword. 

'He tore his soul out of his body before Tarnished Death could fully enslave him, and relocated it in the only place that he knew could inherit his will...'

That was the truth of Bhumi's swordsmanship, even in death. The undead had not been using its own lingering wisdom and willpower to fight; the sword was giving it to him just by holding it.

The Earth God had given up everything. He left Divinity, Demonic Energy, and even Mana inside his discarded body and moved his soul into his weapon, reincarnating himself into a sword.

'There is no death or life,' Soma chuckled despite himself out of sheer admiration. 'He will only get stronger until he breaks... a swordsman united to his weapon.'

"[The Cornerstones of The World Converged to One,]" Bhumi's voice echoed like soft rain.

* * *

Tarnished Death felt the very Heavens looking down in interest as soon as Rakna spoke the first words of an unknown chant. The 'banisher of darkness' around the werewolf sent pulses; each of them somehow pushing him back by a step. 

"You can only apply your concept of death through your aura," Lilith spoke up then, not allowing him time to think. "You use it as a medium. That is why you are constantly releasing it; to spread resources on the battlefield for you to use."

Tarnished Death's eyes narrowed. "And with that knowledge… you stretched your flames as far as possible in that previous attack. To cleanse my aura."

"Correct."

The Fiend didn't even bother to reply and actively tried to release his aura. But, unsurprisingly, a pulse of 'false light' banished it as soon as it emerged. "I see… your intention was to not let me stop whatever he is doing," he remarked. "Which in turn dismisses any further attempt."

Tarnished Death clenched the dying wisp of aura inside his fist. "But…" He coldly whispered and with a flash of gold, Lilith's face twisted in pain as a silver gauntlet knocked away her sword and burrowed itself into her stomach.

"Ahk…!" She coughed blood and her eyes widened in shock. In that instant, she felt some part of her organs die. She instinctively used her other arm to swing Gān Jiàng while the impetus had yet to catch up to her, but the black saber powerlessly bounced off the gladiator's armor.

"How does it matter?" Tarnished Death said and quickly thrust his palm toward her heart.

Lilith couldn't cross her arms in time and her Agni Ring flickered from behind her. It glitched out of view and reappeared just in time to take the brunt of the Fiend's blow. However, it shattered near-instantly and exploded in a bouquet of energy.

The demoness flew out of the smoke with blackened blood flowing down her lips, her expression obscured, and her horns losing their color.

Tarnished Death on the other hand charged through the explosion without care and flapped his wings, blitzing toward Rakna with his arm reaching forward.

"I do not need my aura," he declared as his hand physically grasped the 'false light' while Rakna silently stared back. "This body suffices as the medium," he added and pushed forward. 

Golden light spurted out of his wings and Rakna clawed at the ground to maintain his stance for as long as he could. "How arrogant of you to try and create a spell in front of me," the Fiend coldly said and the invisible force separating him from the werewolf began to break down under his principle of Death. "Also, I believe I've warned you enough—"

Tarnished Death used his other hand to raise his double scythe. The sockets of his helmet shone with dark light and dozens of magic circles were overlaid on his blades. "—that you would not be able to stop my magic forever."

"[Veritably Sky – Ascension Path,]" he intoned and swung. His spell sucked in the surrounding mana and expelled it out of the double-scythe's blades. "[Ekallu Shulmu.]" The Soul Marble got warped under the force of his swing and the 'light' around Rakna shattered.

Yet, the werewolf readily swung Sonata in response. But when their blades collided, for the first time, a crack appeared on the Guandao's blade. Rakna suppressed his panic and urgently shifted the direction of his riposte. This action saved Sonata but left him completely open for what came next.

Without delay, Tarnished Death cleaved into his torso and his spell actuated. The phenomenon conjured by Rakna until this point dissipated on impact, followed by a shockwave that formed a perfect dome visible to the naked eye.

The Soul Marble shook and a massive cut to the outside world was opened, showing a glimpse of a moon and the Lunisolar Blaze's light, which infiltrated the current obscurity. As for Rakna, he found himself collapsing to his knee, blood pouring down and dripping on the flowers at his feet.

For a moment, bleak silence reigned as Tarnished Death stood alone, his foes struggling close to the ground. "Pink blood," he broke the silence with an amused tone.

He glanced at the liquid painting his blade and hummed. "What an unusual color. But there is a rather peculiar dignity to it," he commented and cleaned it with a swipe. "It took quite a lot to see; your Elemental Reinforcement is incredibly advanced."

"…" Rakna was unresponsive. His eyes were closed and he didn't even try to stand, only his hand gripping Sonata to support himself.

The Fiend snorted. "Well, wolfwalker, do you accept your defeat?"

"…wolfwalker this, wolfwalker that," Rakna muttered blankly as his wound fumed, healing itself through the 'Death' applied to it. "All of you people really can't help yourselves. Is that supposed to be some kind of ancient slur for werewolves?" He opened his eyes slowly.

"…I don't know about those from this Era, but the term 'werewolf' did not exist during my times," Tarnished Death replied with a raised eyebrow. "The first man— nay, the first wolf to be called 'wolfwalker' was an odd beast."

"…"

"Deciding to imitate humans, it simply… walked. It tried to walk with its rear legs and use its front ones like hands. Boldly and inexplicably, it ambled into the closest town, making itself known to humanity. Taken in by a scholar, it learned. The word began to spread and people called the strange animal, the wolf who walks; the Wolfwalker."

The Fiend chuckled to himself. "It was a fascinating thing. I met it myself. And it continued to live with humans for 18 years. But eventually… it died of old age. It never learned how to use magic, never awakened an ability, and never evolved. It was nothing special, strangely enough."

Rakna's expression didn't change, neither interest nor indifference could be perceived.

"However, a year later, a new species of creatures was spotted out of nowhere," Tarnished Death declared with a tone that suggested his own wonder. "Tall and strong lupines, walking on two legs, with broad musculature and fully developed arms. No one knew where they came from. It was as if they had fallen from the sky."

"Some theorized the Heavens' involvement, others suspected the Almighty One, but many considered them to be the fated reincarnation of the Wolfwalker. Thus, wolfwalkers were born."

"…that's good, I suppose," Rakna huffed with a smile. He pushed himself up and straightened his body to lock eyes with Tarnished Death. "That's not such a bad moniker. I would even say that it fills me with honor. Thank you very much."

"You are welcome."

"You can't kill us, can you?" He abruptly asked and the armored undead stiffened. "The duel you set with the Heavens has fixed winning conditions. We win if we draw blood, and you win if we cannot do it in time. Inversely, that means killing us does not make you win."

"I commend you for noticing," Tarnished easily admitted. "But it's much too late," he looked up at the hourglass. There wasn't much sand left. "You barely have two minutes left."

At the same time, a shiver-inducing growl slipped through the fissure in the Soul Marble. Lilith, who was holding her necrosed arm, was struck with worry and Rakna lowered his gaze but did not say anything.

"Ah, would you look at that," the Fiend laughed lightly. "Haltoan has woken up. We can hear him so well even in here…" He trailed with a lower voice. "You have run out, haven't you? All the soul power you have left is this place itself. There's nothing within you. "

"…you're mistaken about several things," Rakna spoke up.

"Oh?"

"This battle is not over, and your little toy outside is not going to survive long," he said and let go of Sonata briefly, allowing it to change into a bow, which he promptly grabbed. "There's plenty of time left and the stars have yet to return. When… did you ever convince yourself that you had stopped my spell?"

Before Tarnished Death could react to those words, the 'banisher of darkness' returned at once, and this time, it was not limited to Rakna. It invaded the whole landscape. If he still could bring out a bit of his aura before, then now, not even a needle-sized trace would make it out.

"What…?!" For the first time, the Fiend was genuinely agitated as the false light separated them from each other. "My spell sliced the flow of your spiritual energies! Your spell formation too! You couldn't possibly finish casting…!"

"Sadly, for you, I didn't actualize the spell with my 'mind'," Rakna smirked. "I was inspired, you could say. I recently witnessed the feat of Aura Chant. It was enlightening. But against you, it's somewhat lacking. So, I took it to the next level."

On cue, the flowers and grass of the Soul Marble flailed. The wind itself blew in odd patterns. The currents of the sea changed directions erratically. The petals in the air swirled into shapes and the rivers' water dug into the soil to widen themselves. 

It didn't take Tarnished Death long to decipher these fluctuations. These phenomena were not in any way explicit, but with a subliminal force, they wrote words and lines. An incantation.

"You… used your soul to conjure a spell…?" He was horrified. 

It wasn't even about using soul power to convey a chant; the soul itself seemed to be carving the spell formation, drawing in the mana, and then manifesting the Lexis. 

This was an absurd idea. The soul is naturally the core of any living being, but its involvement in the construction of a magic spell is at the bottom. Mana was generally stored in the soul, and for most mages, that summed up its relevance.

To cast a spell, a presence in the 'World' is first needed. It can take many forms, whether that is physical or not. A voice or a purely optic manifestation is a form of presence. 

The spirit or mind, that is to say, one's consciousness, will simultaneously establish the spell's structure and draw mana from the soul like a bucket thrown into a well. 

It was a universal process impossible to bypass. Even beings whose existence leaves their soul bare or use it as a physical body cannot escape this rule. Ultimately, their consciousness carries the heart of magic; creativity and willpower. It is the only thing capable of molding mana.

A soul on its own is like a pot of ink. The content is mana, and the pot itself is the soul. The quill is the consciousness. Reasonably speaking, there is no way to use the pot as a quill. Do you pour the ink perhaps? But in that case, the ink is obviously not inside the pot anymore, which does not correspond to what was happening here.

Casting with one's soul is essentially like pouring water from a glass back into itself. It required the violation of rational cause and effect.

The Soul cannot receive orders from the Mind, nor can it command itself.

'A variant Source-Type Soul? No! this is nothing like it!' Tarnished Death immediately discredited his assumption. Some souls were special and could be used like a staff or host the consciousness like a pilot, but this was nothing comparable. 

It was obvious that the Soul Marble itself was conjuring a spell; going through a process preset by the consciousness, which should exist outside its influence.

"Could it be?" Tarnished Death mumbled. "Is… your Mind fused to your Soul?"

Rakna could imagine the conclusion the Fiend had arrived at, which was simplified on his side due to an awareness of his unique circumstances. He smiled slightly. "Close. My Mind, Soul, and Body are fused. But just partially for now. My body is still not capable of coping with the rest."

"…!"

"I'm made to believe that this is a natural side-effect," he stated. "Of a procedure that is going to turn me… into the most perfect artifact."

That was enough for Tarnished Death. He didn't say anything; didn't wait for an opening; didn't mock his opponent. He kicked the ground toward Rakna, gathering as much Heavenly Qi as his body could. He had to stop this.

"[Veritable--!]"

His words were cut off by a giant fist of Agni. Just one finger dwarfed his body. It swatted him away from Rakna like a fly, hurling him through the ground. Immediately, he crushed everything around him to dust just to stop his momentum.

Already, his senses were deciphering the soul's incantation.

[Pazhaiyā Cōkam] (Misery of Old)

He looked at the girl he had forgotten about. A giant apparition of a red Asura, with three heads and six arms. It easily reached cloud height and wielded the forms of lightning, fire, and plasma at the same time. 

In the center of the colossus, inside its torso, Lilith was suspended as if in a liquid. Her mask was cracked and her teeth were clenched. There was a hole in her stomach filled with Agni instead of flesh and an arm missing from her shoulder. She had resolutely carved out the former and torn off the latter to stop the spread of the 'Death' applied to it.

"I won't let you," she spoke through the Asura Avatar. Her three aspects erupted from the hands of the giant and formed new sabers. The pupils of the three heads collectively snapped toward the Fiend.

Tarnished Death frowned darkly and at the same time, he sensed a terrifying surge of Spiritual Intent from outside despite Haltoan's roars. 'What…? The swordsman?' He was startled but could not dwell on it for long as a projectile struck him.

[Vilaiyātchiyāṉāṟum Muṟaiyāṉāl Veḷiyaṉai] (The Banishing Light of Desperation)

He reflexively used his forearm to block it, but it nonetheless dragged his feet for several meters before dropping. He observed the object; some kind of bladed arrow made of magic. He looked at his armor and his composure degraded further when he saw the scratch on it.

He looked at the source and spotted Rakna meticulously notching another 'arrow' onto his bow and pulling the string. Cyan-colored energy sparked and combusted the projectile. 

"[Dáinsleif,]" the werewolf coldly chanted and released. The bladed arrow split sound and flew the whole distance in the blink of an eye. He didn't need this spell to explode in this situation. 

So, he transmuted all its explosive strength into speed and momentum. Tarnished Death had yet to be threatened by the Obsidian Star's inimitable sharpness, but that changed now.

[Uravinum Iraivanum Thoothuṭṭāṉ] (Paved The Path of A Yearning Future)

Tarnished Death swatted the arrow with his scythe and couldn't believe how much it rattled his arm. To make things worse, Rakna seemed nonplussed about conjuring dozens of them without rest.

"[…Absolute Sky,]" he uttered darkly. "[Heavenly Demon Descent.]"

His Internal Force abruptly reversed flows and natures. A pillar of darkness descended from the starless sky and swallowed him. His armor blackened and his wings were painted blood-red.

None of the combatants wasted energy in pointless discussion. They all glanced at the hourglass and prepared for the last moments of their battle.

Time remaining; seventy seconds.

[Iniyavāṉa Amaithiyin Kaṭṭāṉ] (A Gentle Warmth of Innocence)

Tarnished Death's eyes glowed and turned into a twin trail of crimson light. He devastated the landscape with his speed alone and raised his fist against the Asura's saber. Without a chance for resistance, the green lightning broke on impact. However, a thunderstorm assailed its destroyer and the five other arms swung at him.

"[Absolute Sky – Devouring Heaven,]" the Fiend growled out, and unlike the golden Qi he used before, a dark 'breath of life' erupted, forming a hazy monster. A maw opened and engulfed the arms of the Avatar. Like a starving beast, it bit them off and swallowed them. 

[Śēḍiṉ Āṟvam Kuṟiṭṭuṭṭāṉ] (Ignites The Passion Within One's Heart)

Tarnished Death groaned as three new arrows, different from the previous ones, struck his back with the weight of a tidal wave. 'Blunt force this time?' He thought and instead of challenging the knockback, he stepped on the Avatar's armor and leaped upward past the storm of Agni.

He flapped his wings and shot up in the sky, dodging a large beam of plasma launched from the mouth of one of the Asura's heads.

[Māṉamāi Pāḍu] (Pray)

"If you insist…" The Fiend raised his voice curtly, facing the ground from above. "I shall simply shatter this Marble whole!" He shouted and black Qi suffused his body.

"[Absolute Sky!]" His double scythe broke apart on its own and the blades joined together into a strange, intertwined sword. Tarnished Death raised it above his head. The sword with a skeletal hilt became a beacon of black and crimson, raging upward like a volcano.

Time remaining; fifty seconds.

* * *

Bhumi's Ki and Intent warped the World. Above him, a symbol materialized. 

Martial Artists of transcendental skill could reinvent the concept of magic with their technique alone. There were no runes or formations to speak of.

It was the accumulated resolution of a Grandmaster; the War Crest.

"[North – From Swirling Whispers, Unseen Forces Arise.]"

A white Crest; fleeting, swirling, but ravenous.

"[South – The Den of Life Grows As Secrets Materialize.]"

A green Crest; jade and sturdy, but soft like grass.

"[West – Flames Dance, Kindling Desires Untold.]"

A red Crest; alluring and deadly.

"[East – Where Waves Converge, New Paths Unfold.]"

A blue Crest; soothing, but merciless.

The swordsman smiled and the Crests scattered, replaced by a cataclysm of Spiritual Intent that washed over the world.

* * *

Tarnished Death's Qi splashed against the sky and ate away at the Soul Marble.

Lilith watched him coldly and clutched her mask. "{Rakna, please let me do it,}" she reached out through telepathy and felt the surprise from the other side.

"{…understood,}" he responded after a moment. "{Don't die.}"

"{I wouldn't dare,}" she smiled and crushed her mask. Her Avatar roared, losing its masks as well to reveal scarred, demonic flesh. The six arms regenerated with a much ghastlier appearance and directed their palms at Tarnished Death. 

A sphere of Agni immediately expanded from them, a repeat of a previous spell, though this time, its size and potency were incomparable. It bloated in rhythm with its caster's breathing. Within three seconds, it had already attained a disproportionate scale.

[Uḷḷāṭṭil Kaṟpaṉai] (Chaos In Order)

[Kaṟpaṉattil Uḷḷāṭṭu] (Order In Chaos)

"[Asuri…]" Lilith gritted out and the sphere boomed as it expanded again. "[Agni Lahar!]"

"[Heavenly Demon Art – Sunder Fall,]" Tarnished Death intoned emotionlessly.

The wave of untamed Agni thundered against the plunging darkness. The collision between the two immediately caused the Soul Marble to tear. Sky and land were divided, creating countless cracks in space.

But as the two attacks wrestled for domination, no further damage was dealt, barely sparing the minimal structural integrity of the Marble.

[Nīrvaṇaṉāyāṉa Thūvāṉai] (Destiny's Humble Desire)

However, it didn't last long. Tarnished Death scoffed and a magic circle hundreds of meters wide appeared. His energy doubled and the Agni gave out near-instantly.

The Asura Avatar bowed under the pressure and its arms began to disintegrate. Lilith was not so different. But as the dark Qi cleaved through her power, she flashed a self-assured grin.

"Well, I never intended to win that," she muttered and brought out a magic formation of her own, prepared just for this moment. "[Idaṃ Śarīraṃ Tava Duḥkhaṃ Sahetu,]" she whispered and as if answering her call, Rakna's soul 'welcomed' her.

The ground and sky briefly lit up with mana. "[Antimaḥ Rodanaḥ,]" she closed her eyes and the Qi Art swallowed her. An explosion that spanned hundreds of kilometers resounded, followed by a noise resembling the cry of a banshee.

[Anaithu Taṭuppugaḷaiyum Koṇdu Sikkuṁ] (Shall Tear All Obstacles)

Yet, the Soul Marble did not shake.

"What…?" Tarnished Death uttered. He had imbued his strike with a spell of Mortality. Much like it pierced through Rakna's Voyaging Star, it should have hacked away at the essence of the Soul Marble without difficulty.

On the other hand, Rakna dashed through the dwindling blast and came out from the other side with a silhouette in his arms. Lilith's transformation had ended; her Agni was gone, with merely a few sparks staying around her unconscious body.

Her armor was battered and most of her skin was blistering due to Dark Qi. Blood was cascading down the stump of her shoulder and her stomach. She was on the brink of death. 

She had not only survived the Fiend's assault; she had tied her own life to the Soul Marble with her Rally Magic. She bore the burden of its destruction onto herself alone. 

Nevertheless, one thing had aided in her struggle. A translucent shell of power hovered over her form; the circular symbol of Yin and Yang. Mò Yé was missing, but Gān Jiàng was firmly held in her hand, coated in white and black flames that were rapidly waning.

"[Queen of Hearts,]" Rakna used the remaining energy of his Sleeve along with Obsidian Points to substitute the cost of the card. The apparition of a tall and regal woman rose from behind him. With a smile, she waved her scepter at Lilith, just enough to close her wounds.

When the Queen disappeared, Rakna sighed in relief. "Good job," he whispered and looked up at the Fiend who was releasing a torrent of Qi, seemingly never running out.

Time remaining; 20 seconds.

A magnificent Chalice shone on his back and the werewolf opened his mouth,

[Nakkīrāṉ Oru Naṭcattirattil] (Wish Upon A Star)

* * *

The flow of Spiritual Intent hegemonically wrapped around the surroundings. 

It was like an illusion that existed in every sense but sight. For a moment, the Earth had returned and bathed the surroundings in its nature. Only a second sufficed for Astraea's eyes to shine with vitality through her connection with flora and fauna.

"[The Gods Smiled Upon Life,]" Bhumi chanted. "[And My Sword Shaped The World.]"

'A sword technique carrying a planet's will within it…' The Egregore Entity was awe-struck. 'He is like Lord Monarch. He does not need a Domain; he surpassed it. With his sword alone, he stepped into Transcendence.'

"[Cardinal God of Rupture,]" Bhumi intoned with a grin as the Ghost of Rupture dormant inside the body he was borrowing distorted his body's appearance. He lifted his sword and the monster across from him brusquely moved the long appendages on the sides of its body.

They crackled through space at speeds many times faster than sound, each joint multiplying the momentum like a whip. Had there still been a planet to take this attack, it would have likely been shredded like a common paper.

"I'm afraid it's too late, Haltoan Gran'ka," Bhumi stated calmly and the limbs were crushed by his rising Intent and Ki. He did not deliberately defend himself; it had just happened.

"Witness…" He tilted his blade. "The Formula of Life."

* * *

The hollow sky of the Soul Marble creased. 

Like a curtain being dragged from the opposite side, it folded on itself. And from it, 'light' rained on the world. Each smallest of luminosities erased the Qi that Tarnished Death was using.

In less than a second, half of the Soul Marble had already been pleated like some kind of shuttle of cloth, from which the tip radiated the fiercest of lights. It appeared so far from one's eye, yet so close. But its true nature revealed itself once the Marble irrevocably disappeared.

Rakna was overcome with a sense of tiredness, his soul power exhausted. The Full Moons were taken down; Lunar Energy faded from his body and refused to come back even with the ambient power. Just like Tarnished Death had said, his body had entered a state of rejection after abusing the closed circuit.

But that didn't matter. The colossal monster to his right didn't matter. Bhumi's Sword Intent was not even a passing curiosity. That side of the battle was about to end, and he knew it.

As for his own… the Star descended.

It was fast. It might have been as fast as light, or even faster. Tarnished Death felt the world slow to a crawl as he witnessed the result of the spell cast by the Marble. A pure white star. Somehow, he could not comprehend its mass.

It looked titanic as if he was standing right in front of it, but his rational thinking told him that it would already be obliterating him if he was that close. But at the same time, it also felt like it was shining on him from light-years away.

'Conceptual Manifestation,' Tarnished Death couldn't help but admire it. A rare marvel produced only by the greatest of spells.

It radiated its power and, in the blink of an eye, it traced a line in the sky. It was too fast to follow and the line seemed so long it would connect the opposite ends of the universe. It was a beautiful streak decorating a dark world, with scintillating dust sprinkled from its edges.

Tarnished Death immediately felt its authority rout him. His strength dwindled, his armor made a sound akin to expanding ice, and his spiritual energies were driven away.

Right then and there, he considered surrendering. But, after witnessing such a spectacle, part of him wondered if that was a worthy conclusion.

He laughed to himself and flapped his wings. Without hesitating, he combusted his True Qi. But it was futile in the end. He charged toward his opponent, but Rakna indifferently stared back.

"[Kāṇātha Naṭukkan,]" the werewolf lightly tapped his bow. It was an innocuous spell born in the battle against Arimane. After its resolution, bladed arrows appeared from all directions and detonated straightaway.

'Arrows suspended in time and space, concealed away between one second and another,' Tarnished Death grinned, once again admiring his adversary.

Caught in the explosions, his armor shattered. It was peeled away piece by piece. The force alone crushed every part of the gladiator's undead body. 

Such was the power of the Shooting Star. A simple and innocent prayer. 

And his armor stood for nothing against it.

* * *

Haltoan Gran'ka did not react to its master's state. The ancient beast, once guardian to the Great Cavern that roamed the universe, acted on instinct to eradicate the enemy.

It compressed its throat sac, dominating the Lunisolar Blaze under its will. It climbed up into its mouth where a blinding rainbow light fluctuated.

On the opposite side, Bhumi methodically traced a horizontal and perfectly straight line with the tip of his sword. He then raised it as high as he could.

"[Amaša Zalag Ensi Kiššati.]" He swung down in one straight motion and finalized the cross.

Haltoan roared and fired a stream of ancient energy, prime to annihilate whole worlds.

* * *

Time remaining; seven seconds.

When the Dáinsleif volley ended, Rakna slowly raised Sonata; now a Guandao. His eyes met with Tarnished Death's and then locked onto his exposed, glowing heart.

'Aah…' The Fiend sighed and looked at the sky. 'I lost.'

"[Skulk Life Down.]"

* * *

Two finalities occurred at once.

An incomprehensible sword strike that transcended the laws of reality split apart the energy of a creature that once had power greater than gods. Rupture snuffed it out and the beast died once again; its planetary body cut into four pieces.

The Spiritual Intent embodying Earth and its answer to Life impregnated itself into the remains of the creature. It carved soil out of its flesh, drained water from its blood, strung grass out of its skin, grew luscious fauna out of its Ki, and gave birth to life with its Mana.

As for the rebel who survived the End, a strike that ignored distance, space, and time slashed his heart and licked at its crimson blood. Ô such a human color for such a wretch.

The Heavens acknowledged his defeat and the sand halted.

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