Vesper took a long, slow breath. His fingers rose into the air like a conductor about to strike the first note. A crimson blade blinked into existence beside him, floating without support, humming faintly with energy. With a subtle flourish, he swept one arm behind his back and smirked, regal and smug.
Lyra dashed forward. Her boots cracked against the stone, and her scythe swept upward in a wide arc—silent, precise, deadly. But before it could land, Vesper twitched two fingers, and his sword snapped into motion. It blocked her strike mid-air with a metallic clang, spinning lazily before repositioning itself.
Again she attacked.
Again the sword moved on its own, answering its master's unspoken commands. It spun, jabbed, deflected—its motion like a dance. Lyra pressed on, her eyes glowing with red-tinged mana, but Vesper barely moved. The blade intercepted every slash with grace, countering effortlessly.
Lyra's crimson eyes narrowed. She dipped low and twisted, pouring her mana into her arms until they pulsed. Her aura flared, deep pink bleeding into red as her stance shifted. Her next strike wasn't elegant—it was brutal.
She roared, swinging the scythe with all her strength.
Vesper didn't react. The floating sword disappeared with a flicker.
Lyra's blade slashed straight through his shoulder and across his chest—a direct hit.
And yet… nothing. No blood. No tear of flesh.
The jeweled crown above Vesper's head spun gently, its red gemstones glowing. His mouth twisted into mock surprise. "Good. I take it you're all this stupid."
He turned and slammed his boot into Lyra's face.
She hit the ground hard, sliding across the scorched terrain. Her scythe clattered free of her grip, skidding away with a sharp metallic ring.
Ren was already moving. Rin appeared at his side in a blur of black and ash, her hands curling into fists.
They stood in front of Lyra, shields of flesh and will.
Vesper chuckled, lifting his hands lazily. "Ooh, what's going on here? Can't she fight for herself?" His smile wavered, eyes twitching with a flicker of unease—small, but there.
With a flick of his wrist, the crimson blade reappeared—then split. One, two, three blades, orbiting his form like satellites.
He lashed out. The swords struck like spears.
Ren raised his white sword just in time, deflecting one. The force knocked him back half a step. Rin dropped under another, black flames spiraling from her palm. She snapped her hand forward, launching a streak of burning mana toward Vesper's chest.
It passed right through him—an afterimage. Her momentum carried her forward and past him, boots skidding to a halt as she spun, confused.
Vesper now stood face to face with Ren, blade to blade, steel grinding against steel.
"What now?" Ren growled, his jaw clenched tight. "Come on, you ugly creature. Doesn't it get tiring imitating the race you hate so much?"
A vein pulsed along Vesper's temple. He bit his lip, trembling slightly.
"Quiet," he hissed.
A second blade hovered behind Ren, angled downward, its edge gleaming with crimson light. Mana flickered along its handle—charging.
Whip!
A black tendril shot out, catching the blade mid-flight. It twisted in midair as Isabelle appeared behind Ren, her right arm shrouded in writhing darkness. The shadows had consumed her flesh up to the shoulder, forming coiled patterns along her skin like smoke trapped in glass.
With a sharp pivot, Isabelle twisted her hips and flung the sword back toward its master.
Vesper didn't even blink. The sword tore through his body, passing straight through like he was fog.
He was solid. But not now.
Arthur stepped forward from the mist, unsheathing his sword with deliberate calm. "Intangibility," he muttered. "You've made it flashy enough to notice. The crown pulses when it activates—that's your tell."
Vesper's crimson eyes turned toward Arthur. He smirked—more out of habit than confidence. "You think you're clever. Typical. Observant little mid-tier human."
There was a small pause. Then a twitch in Vesper's lip. "Of course you'd notice. Julius did say you people were troublesome."
Arthur didn't answer.
"In a world without sun," he raised his sword, moon spirits circling him, "I am the night."
Vesper blinked. "That was dramatic."
Arthur nodded once, a signal.
Whirl—crack!
Lyra erupted from the side like a thunderclap, her scythe arcing low and fast. The blade sliced across Vesper's abdomen and burst from his back. Blackened crimson sprayed out in a line. The crown on his head—now visibly spinning—snapped to a stop. The jewels dulled.
Vesper stumbled, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth. His posture twitched, the ego in his stance cracking ever so slightly.
"You have a time limit," Lyra said coldly, ripping her scythe free.
Now fully visible, Vesper stood—his outfit a sharp ensemble of blackened gold and deep crimson silks, lined with jagged trim. His long coat whipped at his heels, fastened with interlocking chains of red steel. His features were too perfect. Skin porcelain smooth, symmetrical to the point of artificiality. Eyes glowing, yes—but just a little too wide now.
"You…" he growled under his breath. "You were supposed to be struggling by now."
The crown above his head began to spin again, slower this time.
"You're all quite annoying," he hissed. "But fine."
Boom!
Mana exploded from his core. Five floating blades formed, orbiting him like hungry beasts. Each blade pulsed with a unique crimson pattern, curved and jagged, designed for unpredictable movement.
Arthur was the first to move—he dashed forward with his spirits circling his blade in spiraling arcs. He feinted left, then struck from the right.
Vesper flicked his fingers. Two blades darted forward to meet Arthur's swing. Sparks erupted as metal met magic. Arthur's moonlight surged, blasting both weapons back. He rolled beneath the third blade and swung upward, nearly catching Vesper's chin—but the crown flared. Vesper phased again, slipping through the attack like a wraith.
From the side, Isabelle raised her hand. A wall of shadows erupted in a wide crescent, swallowing three of the floating blades.
She stepped into the shroud, her body dissolving partially into the mist. One of the blades burst out—but she was ready. Her shadow-arm morphed into a claw, catching the weapon and snapping it in half.
Ren called out, "Now!"
A column of frost burst from his position. Jagged shards of ice surrounded Vesper's feet, locking him in place. Vesper scowled and tried to move—but the ice crawled up his legs like shackles.
"I'm not underestimating you," Vesper muttered, more to himself than anyone else. "I'm just… adjusting. You're not supposed to be this synchronized."
Rin struck.
Black flames spiraled around her fists. She vanished in a blink and reappeared behind Vesper, her heel aimed straight for his spine. He phased—but only partially. Her boot cracked into his shoulder, throwing him off balance.
She landed in a crouch, black flames sizzling off her arms. "Your magic… is exhausting you."
"I know that!" he snapped. Then quickly caught himself, brushing the blood from his mouth. "Tch… I mean—I accounted for it."
Arthur stepped beside Rin, sword glowing with spiritual energy. "You've already lost control."
Vesper's crown slowed.
One blade cracked.
The others wobbled in the air.
And suddenly—
Boom!
Vesper detonated a wave of mana, sending everyone flying back. He staggered to his knees, the crown above his head dim.
He looked up at them, panting.
"Nuisance…" he muttered, eyes flicking between each of them. Then to the wormhole machine.
A slight grin returned to his face, weaker than before.
"But you're running out of time."
Vesper jolted upright.
His heel twisted, his body lunged forward—and he ran. Fast. Desperately. Kicking up red mist and loose dirt with each step.
Rin blinked, stunned by the sight. "He's running…?"
"He has answers!" Arthur barked. "Don't let him escape!"
Isabelle was already moving. Her shadow-arm unfurled mid-stride, dark tendrils spiraling like serpents. They lashed around Vesper's legs and yanked.
Crack!
His face slammed into the ground. The crown flared—light dancing along its jewels—and Vesper shoved himself back up with a grunt. Blood ran from his brow. He didn't look back.
With a sharp gesture, a sword appeared in his hand. One swipe severed the tendrils.
A whistle cut through the air—Lyra's arrow.
He phased, just in time. The arrow soared through him, striking a tree trunk that split open from the impact.
Another arrow came. He ducked.
Arthur surged from the side, swing.
Vesper leaned back, his body intangible for a blink too long. The crown sparked erratically. A flicker.
He reformed mid-dash—panting now. His phasing staggered, rhythm broken.
Click.
The ground beneath him shifted—cold.
Ren dropped from above, blade first.
Ice exploded outward, freezing Vesper's legs in a coiling glacier. The crimson mist around them hissed against the frost.
Ren stood tall, his sword steady at Vesper's throat. "Where is Julius?" His voice was cold. "How do we shut that machine down?"
Vesper jerked his arm, trying to conjure a blade. But a shimmer of pink mana flashed across his wrists—Lyra's barrier, locking his arms in a translucent bind.
Ren's eyes narrowed. "Now talk."
Vesper writhed, jaw clenched. Then, a scream ripped from his throat—more wounded ego than fear.
"I don't want to die, not to you!" His voice cracked. "Fine! I'll talk, just—just don't kill me, alright?!"
Clang!
Metal screamed behind Ren. He twisted, blade half-raised—
Arthur stood there, locked in a fierce clash. His sword pressed hard against Clyde's.
Clyde's face twisted in frustration. "Damn it, Arthur! You couldn't just let it go?! We were friends!"
Arthur's stance wavered for a second, disbelief plastered across his face. "What are you doing?" he asked quietly. "What happened to justice?"
Clyde laughed, bitter and hollow. "There is no peaceful justice anymore, Arthur! There never was. Change doesn't come from waiting—it comes from force. Power! That's the only way this world gets reshaped!"
He pressed harder, eyes burning with conviction warped by desperation.
"You're wrong," Arthur said, voice low. "You've forgotten what we fought for."
Behind them, unnoticed—Vesper pulled free one arm from the cracked ice, crown still pulsing faintly.
He lunged, reaching for Ren's back.
Ren spun.
Shhk!
His blade pierced straight through Vesper's chest.
The breath left Vesper's lungs in a slow gasp. His hand fell limp at Ren's side.
The crown above his head spun slowly… glowing… still glowing…
Then—
Vesper grinned.
With a savage grunt, he grabbed Ren by the throat and hurled him like a ragdoll across the clearing.
Ren crashed against the ground, skidding through dead grass and broken stone.
Two blades rose behind Vesper, floating. One aimed for Arthur, the other for Lyra.
Fwoosh—snap!
A rose-tipped arrow pierced both, detonating midair in a burst of kinetic force. The wind howled from the impact, scattering dust and crimson fog.
Vesper staggered to a knee, blood dripping from his mouth now.
But he was still alive.