Emma took off first, hammer slung over her shoulder, boots cracking the thin ice with every heavy step. Each stride sent shallow fractures racing outward, as if the ground were already bracing for impact.
Azalea moved right behind her. She drew her scythe in one smooth motion and sliced the ground.
Roots erupted instantly.
A thick vine surged upward and forward. Azalea jumped onto it without slowing, riding the growth as it arced through the air. Wind snapped her cloak as the vine kept growing beneath her feet.
She cut it again mid ride.
The vine she stood on withered immediately, drying into a brittle husk, while a fresh vine burst from within it and carried her onward. The dead remains crumbled behind her, turning to dust before they even hit the ground.
Kenth hesitated for half a second, then looked at me. Most likely just asking me for the plan.
Seriously, just ask dude.
"We need to burst him down," I said. "Do you have any high output attack?"
"Yeah," he replied. "But I need three minutes of charge time."
I recalled Laedingr into my hands, heat blooming across my palms as I broke into a sprint. "Do it in two."
"Hey!" he shouted. "Did you not just hear me?"
I ignored him.
I fired my chains toward the vines Azalea was creating and let them latch on. The moment they caught, I yanked myself forward and hopped onto the living structure like it was a moving platform.
"That's a pretty unique loom you have," Azalea said, glancing back without slowing.
"Not as much as yours," I replied. "Are you sure about this? Won't you feel bad about all of us ganging up on Finster?"
"Not really," she said calmly.
"Besides, he only became a pureblood through Helle's will. The Blume household are generaly pasificts and disdains anything combat-related. I never got to test him."
She sliced the vine again and leapt onto the newly sprouted one without hesitation.
The vine I was latched onto dried instantly, collapsing into brown fragments midair.
"Whoa," I said, scrambling. "A little warning, miss?"
I flexed my left hand, chains retracting, and grabbed onto the new branch just in time.
Ahead of us, Finster moved.
His eyes opened.
The hum around his sword shifted pitch. Green light crawled along the blade, pulsing like a heartbeat. His hair stirred in an unseen wind.
He lifted the sword.
Emma reached him first.
She swung her hammer in a wide arc and brought it down with full force. The impact shattered the ice and sent a shockwave rippling outward. The ground buckled. Stone and frost lifted and exploded away from the point of contact.
Finster slid back several meters, boots carving lines through the ice.
Then he smiled.
His green hair fizzled, and another color dyed it. Thin white strands spread outward.
It is his Sampling ability; he is starting to adapt already.
"Limit your thrum magic attacks and mostly switch to physical ones!" I ordered.
Finster slammed his foot down.
The ground answered him.
A shockwave erupted in response, nearly identical to Emma's, slamming into her mid-step and throwing her backward. She skidded hard, boots smoking as she dragged to a stop.
"Hey," she shouted. "That's my thing."
I launched myself forward before he could follow up.
Heat surged through my fists as I closed the distance. I twisted midair and drove my knee toward his chest, detonating an explosion on impact. The blast sent us both flying in opposite directions.
I rolled, barely catching myself.
Finster landed cleanly.
White spread further through his hair.
His eyes glowed.
He clenched his fist.
A pulse of compressed force detonated outward, smaller than mine, yet precise. It slammed into my side and sent me tumbling across the ice.
"Okay," I groaned. "That one stings."
Roots burst up around Finster without warning.
Azalea landed behind him, scythe carving through the air in a wide arc. Vines twisted around his legs and torso, locking him in place. Thorns dug in, glowing faintly green.
"For someone living in slums before," she said, "you're pretty skilled in weaver combat."
Finster inhaled slowly.
The vines shuddered.
Green light surged through them.
They turned pale.
White spread across his hair even more as Finster activated his sampling again.
The plants responded to him now, writhing, resisting Azalea's control.
"Excuse me," she said flatly. "Those are mine."
She slammed the butt of her scythe into the ground.
The roots recoiled violently, snapping free and collapsing into dead husks as new growth exploded from beneath her feet, reclaiming space instantly.
Emma charged back in.
She leapt and swung upward this time, hammer catching Finster under the chin with a brutal uppercut. The impact launched him skyward.
"Matt," she shouted. "Now!"
I raised my hand.
Explosions chained together beneath Finster midair, detonating in rapid succession. Each blast knocked him higher, disrupting his balance.
His hair was nearly half white now.
Finster twisted in midair and slammed his sword downward.
Roots erupted from the ground like spears, thick and violent, bursting through ice and stone alike. One clipped my shoulder and sent me spinning. Another caught Emma square in the side and launched her like a discarded doll.
We both hit the ground hard.
Azalea clicked her tongue.
"You're forcing me on this Finster..."
She raised her scythe again.
Her eyes flared. Pale green light burned through her pupils, and highlights streaked through her hair as if someone had drawn glowing lines through it.
The air felt heavier.
Finster noticed.
He took a step back.
Azalea's scythe began to change.
The blade elongated, its curve stretching wider, sharper. Another edge formed on the opposite side, mirroring the first until the weapon looked less like a farming tool and more like an executioner's monument. Veins of green light pulsed along the metal, synchronized with her breathing.
Finster swallowed.
"Helle," he muttered. "Help me."
He let go of his sword.
It did not fall.
The weapon floated in front of him, suspended as if held by an invisible hand. The tattoo at the side of his neck burned bright and split open like a seam. From it spilled a small ball of golden wisp, flickering and bright. It hovered for a moment, then drifted forward and sank into the blade.
The sword transformed.
Its shape twisted, metal bending like it had forgotten what it was supposed to be. The structure reshaped itself, widening, curving, growing into the same unnatural form Azalea wielded. Not identical, yet unmistakably close.
They kept charging.
Both weapons grew larger. Larger than they had any right to be.
The ground beneath them cracked. Frost evaporated in hissing steam. Wind screamed outward in uneven bursts. Blood ran freely from the eyes. From ears. From noses.
An implication of how both of their will stats were barely keeping up with whatever they were forcing into existence.
Finster's hands shook violently, knuckles white, teeth clenched so hard I thought they might shatter. His hair was almost entirely white now, sampling pushed far past safe limits.
Emma, still sprawled beside me, stared at them in awe.
"A death scythe technique," she whispered. "That's only possible with the blessing of the Blume bloodline."
She squinted harder. "How is that adopted boy casually using it. Is he actually a bastard of Duke Clemantis Regleia Blume?"
I snorted.
"Of course, that's the conclusion anybody would reach.
She looked at me. "What did I say something wrong?"
"Oh no, nothing," I replied, pushing myself upright,
I've read enough of The Golden Weaver's Apprentice to know exactly what's happening.
She blinked. "Is that so? But what now, at this rate, both of them will be incapacitated because of the backlash."
"I wish it were that simple," I remarked.
I looked at Finster again.
He'll be fine.
Of course, he would. The rules bent around him.
He was the protagonist.
He would keep shining. Brighter than this. Brighter than anyone around him.
That was how these kinds of stories worked.
Behind us, Kenth and Waffel were still charging their attack. Energy is pooled and condensed in the barrel of their gun.
I stood fully and offered Emma a hand.
"Get up," I said. "We're just getting started."
She took it and rose, hammer already back in her grip, eyes never leaving the two figures ahead of us.
Azalea and Finster moved at the same time.
They ran.
Each step shattered the ground beneath them. Wind howled inward, dragged toward the approaching collision. The scythes screamed as they cut through the air, edges warping space around them.
They met at the center.
Sound vanished.
For a split second, there was nothing.
Then the explosion hit.
"KLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG!!!!"
Light tore outward in a blinding wave. The shockwave flattened everything in its path. Ice disintegrated. Stone vaporized. The air itself buckled and folded.
Azalea was thrown backward like a leaf in a storm.
Finster flew in the opposite direction, spinning end over end, his weapon shattering mid-flight into fragments of fading light.
The battlefield fell silent.
Smoke rolled.
The base of Tasora and Finster was now free for plundering.
"Emma, kindly temporarily take the base and stay there. I'll help Nagi's team in dealing with" Tasora.
"But why? I can fight too!" she protested.
I considered her words and have another idea.
"True, then kindly go fetch your lady's corpse over there and let her rest in the point," I said as I pointed towards Azalea's unconscious body in the distance.
"Huh!?"
"Once you hear the notification that your group has captured the base, rendezvous with us at the bottom middle base."
"She's not dead!" Emma cried out.