On the surface Lucius was very gentle, but in truth he was the proudest of men.
Even the three Zogratis siblings who shared his blood were never people he viewed as his equals.
Perhaps the only one he could look at eye to eye was the other soul within his body—Julius.
Maybe, in his eyes, everyone else was something to be controlled, even dispensable. Even Charles, in truth, was only a special tool to him.
There was just one exception: Asta. Lucius felt something for him unlike anyone else—disgust.
Lucius's disgust wasn't for the reason he claimed—that Asta was some flaw of the world—but because Asta's ability threatened him.
Because of anti-magic, time magic couldn't foresee Asta's future, soul magic couldn't twist his will, and even the Ultimate Power Lucius had gained was blocked by him.
Lucius might not have realized it, but his disgust actually sprang from his dread of Asta.
Charles hefted the War Saint and said, "Too slow—but you made it in time."
Asta grinned. "Of course. I'm not letting the chance to become Magic Emperor slip by."
Charles turned to Lucius. "Then keep up. Don't get left behind."
"Oh!"
Asta answered and gripped the Demon-Slasher Blade.
The next instant, the two moved in unison, flanking Lucius from left and right.
"Zetten!"
Asta opened with a big move, paying the final boss his due respect.
Lucius dodged sensibly, then casually lobbed several spells to block the onrushing Charles.
Charles didn't react at all to the incoming magic—because he trusted Asta.
"Nullify!"
Asta didn't betray that trust. He raised the Demon-Destroyer Sword and erased every spell Lucius had just cast.
Which told Lucius plainly: don't bother with formed magic—Asta would just erase it at will.
That left Lucius with no choice but to face Charles's blade with his own body.
Even with layers of reinforcement, hardening, and several other spells stacked on his arm, Lucius still had it severed by a single stroke from Charles.
The weapon in Charles's hands came from that already-mythologized peerless general. Skipping the line "I deem him nothing but a head advertising itself for sale" and going straight to lopping off Lucius's head would've been fine; if he couldn't at least hack off an arm, it'd be unworthy of the name War Saint.
Seizing the rare opening, Charles kicked the butt of the War Saint's haft, snapping the great blade up from its descent; the edge traced a long gash across Lucius's body.
Lucius's face chilled as he raised a knife-hand to strike at Charles—but then he saw Asta behind Charles, both hands on his sword in a cutting stance.
"Demon-Slasher: Infinite Cut—Far Shore!"
It was a sword art Asta had learned from Yami; a straight-line anti-magic slash swept out in an instant.
Lucius's pupils shrank. From that angle, the attack would hit both Charles and him.
No one understood Asta better than Lucius; he hadn't expected Asta to do such a thing.
The same went for Charles—Lucius didn't believe Charles hadn't sensed Asta's strike. Yet Charles showed no intention of dodging; he even flared his mana to seal off his own escape space.
So Lucius could only watch as that black vertical line sheared through Charles's body and then hit his own.
A new wound opened on Lucius, and mana-formed blood sprayed out.
"The Demon-Slasher is a blade that, once it knows what it wants to cut, will never harm the one it means to protect," Asta said.
Strike while he's down—Charles gripped the War Saint in both hands, flames winding around it again, and pressed the attack.
With a clang, a gorgeous knight's sword appeared in Lucius's regenerated hand and locked against the War Saint's edge.
Charles was a bit surprised. The War Saint's sharpness needed no explanation, and he'd layered magic and flame on it besides.
Forget slicing iron like mud—he was confident he could cut even the highest-grade weapons.
That knight's sword didn't look like a basic conjuration, either. Beyond the power to destroy, did Lucius also possess the power to create?
Then again, if Lucius could handcraft life, forging a sword capable of parrying Charles wouldn't be strange at all.
In an instant, real blade-light and sword-shadow filled the air, the clamor of clashing steel ringing without pause.
Though the War Saint was a heavy guandao, in Charles's hands it moved like an extension of his body.
Behind them, demon wings beating, Asta joined the fray—Demon-Slayer Sword in one hand, Demon-Dweller Sword in the other. Four weapons crashed together in a furious melee.
Only after truly entering the fight did Asta realize how strong Lucius was to be trading evenly with Charles.
Lucius wasn't known for swordsmanship, but every one of his cuts was unbearably heavy; Asta could barely hold his ground against the blows.
If not for Charles covering him, he wouldn't have lasted many exchanges.
And seeing that, he grasped just how powerful Charles and Lucius both were.
Having just mastered Zetten, Asta had started to float a little; he hurriedly reined in that restlessness, telling himself he still wasn't strong enough and had to keep pushing.
Lucius, for his part, was despairing. Forget Charles—that guy could split the field with him even without unleashing the Ultimate Power. And on top of that, there was Asta.
Asta's strikes weren't as forceful as Charles's, but the threat was hardly any less.
Both swords now brimmed with powerful anti-magic; even he couldn't withstand a clean hit. By comparison, Charles's blazing guandao was almost the "safer" option.
Only relatively, though—if that great blade connected, Lucius would need real effort to recover.
White, red, and black streams of light tangled together, carving long trails across the sky.
After another collision they broke apart, revealing the three figures within.
Asta was covered in wounds, the hand gripping the Demon-Slayer Sword trembling slightly.
Steam hissed from the cuts on Charles's face as they rapidly healed; he exhaled a plume of white breath.
The wounds on his face were one thing, but from his shoulder down to his ribs, blood like molten rock was still flowing.
Lucius, too, was in no comfort—his mana-formed body was starting to collapse, reverting back to human form.
The price of that wound on Charles was an opening for Asta, whose anti-magic had landed squarely on Lucius.
Lucius's face twisted. He realized the four great magics he'd fused were starting to unravel.
The fusion had been forced to begin with due to the shortfall of Lucifero's mana. Now, struck by anti-magic, Lucius's power was breaking down.
Charles straightened and said, "And now… checkmate."