The beam of pure violet energy struck the atmosphere with the force of a falling star, a solid cylinder of destructive power aimed directly at the center of the ship.
Dior reacted first, his movements honed by instinct and years of crisis. He didn't try to block it. Instead, he slammed his rapier, the ocean-shaded metal humming, into the deck. In a flash, he conjured a tidal wall—not of water, but of condensed, deep-blue affinity—and forced it to arc around the ship's front.
The blast didn't hit the tidal wall; it incinerated it, punching through the dense affinity in less than a heartbeat. But the detour bought them a fraction of a second.
As the purple light tore through Dior's defense, Rickert was already moving. He threw his cloud revolver high into the air, manifesting the maximum amount of protective cloud affinity he could manage—not as a solid shield, but as a vast, pressurized cushion of white vapor directly in the attack's path.
The violet beam slammed into the cloud. There was no thunderous explosion, only a deafening, sickening hiss as the raw energy consumed the protective material. Rickert's face twisted in pain; the effort was visibly draining him. The beam slowed, diffusing slightly, but it was still cutting through the cloud barrier and heading straight for the Royal Rankers.
"Brace!" Madam Diva roared, taking a stance, her Viridian blade flashing green as she prepared to meet the residual blast head-on.
She didn't conjure a shield. Instead, she spun Viridian in a blinding arc, creating a swirling vortex of shimmering emerald shards in front of the dying cloud cushion. This wasn't a defense; it was a deflection. The vortex caught the remaining violet energy and—with a sound like grinding mountains—forced the beam to scatter.
The main concentrated blast shot harmlessly into the sky, but the scattered energy showered the ship. The deck plates screamed as the violet residue melted trenches into the metal. The noble rankers' and commander rankers' shield that still surrounded the ship shuddered violently. The six large affinity patches glowed wildly, and the commander patches flickered, several sections failing entirely, causing small, localized explosions along the hull.
Ector was thrown off his feet, the sound of tearing metal and searing energy filling his ears. He looked up just as Madam Diva staggered, leaning heavily on Viridian, her breathing ragged. The Khaos Wyrm of the Void let out another resonating hum, its twin shadowed horns now crackling with fresh violet power, clearly preparing for a second, even more devastating attack. This fight was going to be short and brutal.
Dior acted first, his eyes blazing with fierce determination. He didn't waste time with minor constructs. He channeled his entire available water affinity into his rapier, forcing the silver blade to hum violently. Then, with a guttural roar, he swung it, releasing a massive, spiraling torrent of highly pressurized, freezing dark water—the Abyssal Drill. The drill shot toward the Wyrm's massive head, hoping to penetrate the shadow-laced scales.
Simultaneously, Rickert knew his cloud attacks were too diffuse for this beast. He needed density. Casting aside elegance, he conjured a continuous, violent chain of condensed lightning bolts, not into a single spot, but into a wide area just in front of the Wyrm's face. This was not meant to damage the creature, but to blind and disorient it, filling its immediate vision with blinding white light and deafening cracks.
Madam Diva was the linchpin. She channeled the pain of her earlier defense into focus, her emerald affinity surging back. Instead of throwing shards, she slammed the butt of her Viridian blade onto the deck, manifesting a colossal, multi-faceted emerald structure that rose from the water beneath the Wyrm's body—the Prison of Green Light. It wasn't meant to hold the Wyrm, but to restrict its massive wings and momentarily anchor it, preventing it from easily maneuvering to dodge Dior's attack.
The Wyrm, enraged by the earlier minor resistance, paid little attention. It merely shifted its bulk.
The Abyssal Drill struck the Wyrm's neck, not penetrating the scales, but grinding against them, throwing up a spectacular spray of black sparks and pressurized steam. The impact momentarily stunned the beast, causing its next powerful energy blast to stutter and dissipate. Rickert's lightning storm followed, enveloping the Wyrm's crowned head in a blinding, agonizing electric cocoon.
The Wyrm roared, a sound now mixed with genuine pain. It thrashed its tail, catching the top of Madam Diva's Prison of Green Light and shattering the magnificent structure into dust. The air pressure from the tail whip, however, was enough to nearly capsize the already damaged ship. Ector instinctively grabbed the table holding the Nimbus Blade just as it slid violently across the floor.
"It felt that!" Dior shouted, pulling back his rapier, his chest heaving, "But we can't keep this up!"
The Wyrm shook off the stunning effect, its two crystalline horns now glowing a steady, deep purple. It was no longer playing
The beast ignored the Royal Rankers below, focusing its colossal energy not on them, but on the ship itself.
The Wyrm opened its massive jaws wide, gathering the deep violet energy from the atmosphere around it. Unlike the first focused beam, this attack was a sprawling, catastrophic wave—the Void Barrage. It wasn't designed to pierce, but to annihilate everything in a wide area.
The attack wasn't instantaneous; it gathered for a terrifying moment, giving the Royal Rankers a horrifying preview of their doom. The air screamed as the Wyrm prepared to unleash the full force of a full-grown Divine Ranker.
"It's not aiming for us, it's aiming for the ship! Seraphina! Now!" Rickert roared, the lightning marks fading rapidly from his skin as he burned through his reserves.
Seraphina, who had been silent up until this point, a figure of calm focus near the helm, moved with terrifying speed. She carried no visible weapon, but as she moved, the air around her turned icy white, and flakes of what looked like solidified cold materialized and spun into a blinding whirlwind. She materialized directly in the path of the impending Void Barrage.
She didn't try to stop the Wyrm's attack with a shield. Instead, Seraphina threw her hands forward, creating a perfect, flat barrier of absolute zero ice, the Stasis Wall. This wall was impossibly thin, yet radiated an unbearable, crushing cold that sucked all warmth and motion from the air.
The Void Barrage struck the Stasis Wall.
There was no sound of impact, only a profound, unnatural silence. The kinetic energy of the violet attack didn't explode; it froze. The raw violet energy, normally fluid and destructive, was momentarily held rigid, solidified into a towering, jagged sculpture of purple crystal clinging to the ice wall.
The Stasis Wall held for only a terrifying two seconds. Seraphina's face was a mask of extreme concentration, fine lines of frost spreading across her cheeks. The power drain was agonizing. The Wyrm's attack was simply too vast.
With a sound like a galaxy cracking, the Stasis Wall shattered. The frozen violet energy exploded outward, but the two-second delay and Seraphina's incredible effort bought the Royal Rankers the time they needed to coordinate a final, desperate collective defense.
Madam Diva, Dior, and Rickert focused every ounce of their remaining affinity into strengthening the main defensive shield around the ship—the shattered, multi-colored dome was instantly reinforced by a layer of emerald, then a layer of thundering blue, and finally, a pressurized cloud layer.
The shrapnel of the exploding Void Barrage hammered the ship. The noble rankers' shield patches buckled and groaned. The ship was not destroyed, but it was violently tossed sideways by the residual force. The deck split beneath Dior's feet, and the hull took on heavy damage.
Ector was thrown again, this time hitting the wall hard. He watched, dizzy and shaken, as Seraphina, having expended her catastrophic effort, collapsed to her knees, breathing in shallow, frosty gasps.
The Khaos Wyrm, however, was still floating in the air, its scales unblemished, its rage now focused on the small, defiant figures on the damaged ship. It had seen their ultimate effort, and now it was time for the crushing finale.