[Sense of Soren's battle]
The Guardian raised its grotesque arm—forming a black sphere pulsing with writhing curse energy. The sphere grew rapidly, feeding on the malevolent force around it until it became a massive orb of seething darkness.
It launched the sphere toward Soren.
His fingers moved in a blur.
"Paper Magic: Thousand Cuts Formation!"
Hundreds of razor-sharp sheets of paper shot forward, weaving through the air like a storm of blades. They collided with the cursed orb—some slicing through its layers, others deflecting off—but none strong enough to stop it completely.
BOOM!
The sphere exploded with a thunderous roar, shaking the earth beneath.
Smoke and debris flew as the Guardian charged through the aftermath, another smaller curse orb forming in its palm.
But Soren was already in the air, standing atop floating paper discs.
His hands blurred through seals.
"Paper Magic: Binding Sigil!"
A glowing square burst open beneath the Guardian. Chains of folded paper erupted upward like jagged vines, wrapping tightly around its legs. It snarled and struggled, stumbling under the sudden restraint.
Soren dove.
"Paper Magic: Crescent Edge!"
Two massive blades of hardened paper slashed in perfect arcs, carving deep across the Guardian's chest. Black ichor spurted from the gashes, the cursed flesh tearing open.
But then—
The Guardian roared.
A violent surge of curse energy erupted from its wounds. The paper caught fire instantly and disintegrated.
Cursed spikes launched from its body in retaliation. Soren twisted away—yet one spike grazed his shoulder, ripping through skin and muscle.
"...That'll bruise," he hissed through clenched teeth.
The Guardian swung its cleaver—not wild or desperate, but calculated.
Soren barely dodged. The cleaver struck the ground behind him, carving a deep crater and sending a shockwave that launched him off balance.
He tumbled midair, cursed, then flicked his wrist.
Five scrolls spun outward.
"Paper Magic: Clone Scripture!"
From each scroll, a duplicate of Soren emerged and dashed in separate directions across the battlefield. The Guardian snarled and chased the nearest clone—only for it to explode into harmless confetti.
A diversion.
From above—
Soren dropped like a hawk, wielding a glowing scroll.
"Paper Magic: Sealing Strip—Eraser Fang!"
He slapped the enchanted strip against the Guardian's spine.
A brilliant light flared. The curse marks etched into its back sizzled, then peeled away like dead bark from a tree.
The Guardian screamed in agony.
But only for a moment.
Its cleaver surged with black energy once again as it spun with rage.
CRASH!
Soren raised layered defensive papers—but the impact shattered half of them, sending him skidding violently across the field. He slammed into a jagged boulder, coughed blood onto the stones.
"Damn…" he muttered, wiping his lips. His breathing was labored.
Behind him, new scrolls hovered, glowing faintly in reds, blues, and golds.
The Guardian panted, its steps heavier. Its cleaver dragged. One eye flickered weakly. The sealing tag had done damage—but not enough.
Then—
"Curse Magic – Skeleton of Curse!" the Guardian intoned.
The ground shook violently.
From the soil, skeletal arms broke free. Hundreds, then thousands of undead clawed out, surrounding Soren in an endless tide.
He didn't flinch.
He formed a hand sign. Snap!
"Paper Creation Magic: Beast of Madness!"
A massive burst of paper gathered before him, swirling violently, until it shaped into a colossal humanoid double—twice Soren's height, twin hammers in its hands, its eyes burning red.
The skeletal horde rushed forward.
The Beast swung its hammers, flattening bones and crushing skulls.
Soren joined in, unleashing whips, blades, and discs made of paper. Together, the two carved through the undead tide, dominating the battlefield. But still—they came. An endless stream.
Suddenly, Soren's eyes narrowed.
A strong, malicious energy was building in the distance.
He turned.
A cursed arrow whistled through the air—slamming into the Beast's side.
"No!" Soren shouted.
The Beast grunted and yanked the arrow free.
Soren thrust both hands forward. "Paper Magic: Hardest Defense Shield!"
Layers of reinforced scrolls unfolded instantly, enveloping the Beast and himself.
BOOM!
The explosion rocked the field.
When the smoke cleared, half the shield was destroyed. But Soren remained standing, battered but alive.
He looked.
The Beast of Madness… gone. Reduced to burning paper ash. The skeletons too had been vaporized by the cursed blast.
Soren clenched his jaw.
Then formed a new sign.
"Paper Creation Magic: Bird of Chaos!"
Magic surged. A massive bird of folded scripture emerged, wings wide as rooftops.
Soren leapt onto its back. It soared into the sky, circling the Guardian with speed.
The Guardian turned, watching.
Soren stood atop the bird, hands forming another seal, gathering a final spell.
But suddenly—the Guardian stopped rotating.
From below—
CRACK!
The ground exploded upward as a monstrous beast—formed of stone, bone, and curse—erupted from beneath.
Its massive jaws clamped down on the bird.
Soren jumped off just in time, flipping midair.
The beast crushed the paper bird in its jaws.
Soren landed, slid, and smiled faintly.
"Blast." he murmured.
BOOM!
The bird exploded, taking the summoned creature with it.
"I don't like destroying my art…" Soren said, exhaling, "but right now, survival is priority."
Then—
Something tugged at his leg.
He looked down.
A half-burnt skeleton had latched onto his ankle.
A split-second distraction.
The Guardian appeared, cleaver raised.
The first swing—Soren dodged by instinct.
The second—he didn't.
SLASH!
The cleaver slammed into his side, hurling him across the battlefield.
He smashed into the ancient gate, blood spraying from his mouth. His body crumpled.
Groaning, he tried to rise.
He looked at the Guardian—now limping, bleeding, but still alive. Still burning with hatred.
Soren bit his finger.
Blood flowed.
He smeared it across one final scroll pulled from deep within his coat.
"Forbidden Paper Magic: Devouring Script."
The scroll opened in midair, twisting into a massive grimoire—pages folding like teeth.
It lunged forward like a beast.
The Guardian swung its cleaver to intercept.
The grimoire bit into it—and began to eat.
It devoured cursed steel chunk by chunk until the cleaver was no more.
The Guardian screamed, staggering backward, weaponless.
Soren didn't stop.
"Paper Magic: Storm of Shredded Scripture!"
He flung a scroll skyward.
A tornado of razor-edged paper whirled down onto the Guardian, engulfing it in a cyclone of destruction. Screams echoed from within.
It burst out—barely alive. One arm hung loose. Its chest was flayed open.
Still, it raised its massive palm.
THOOM!
A shockwave of raw curse energy blasted out.
Soren was hit square in the chest.
He flew backward like a broken doll, hitting the ground with a loud, wet crack.
His vision dimmed.
He rolled over, coughing blood, barely able to lift himself.
The Guardian staggered toward him—nearly destroyed, but its curse core still flaring bright.
"...Not yet."
Soren knelt shakily and pulled one final scroll—a black one.
Unlike the rest.
"Paper Magic: Soul Seal Manuscript…"
He whispered.
The scroll unfurled.
Golden-red symbols burned across it.
He poured everything into it—magic, pain, life itself.
The scroll hovered above like a divine sentence being passed.
The Guardian paused.
It sensed something deeper—older than it had ever known.
"Goodbye," Soren murmured.
"Apex Command: Final Binding!"
The scroll shot forward and slammed into the Guardian's chest.
Light exploded.
Golden scripture spread across its body in jagged lines.
The Guardian shrieked. Tried to move. Failed.
The curse magic within it cracked—its core breaking apart under the force.
Then—
BOOOOOOM!
The core imploded. Its body shattered into black dust and bone.
Silence.
Soren dropped to one knee, gasping for breath, blood trickling from his mouth.
"...One down."
He looked up.
Across the battlefield—
Caleb was locked in brutal combat with the second Guardian.
Soren tried to stand. He wanted to help.
But one glance at his bleeding side made it clear—
He wouldn't survive another clash.
So he sat.
Gritting his teeth.
Watching.
Trusting.