Chương 414: Chapter 403 - The Third Phase

"I'll take two Spawns," Alonso said calmly, turning slightly toward Leonie.

"The rest are yours." She studied him for a heartbeat, then nodded firmly.

"Alright." His gaze swept across the others. It lingered on Ayu for an instant. They exchanged a small nod, the kind that needed no words. Then his eyes returned to the trunk. To the hollow sockets embedded within the wood. Leonie's Valkyrie presence flared, intensifying the power of his Will. In tandem, the projection of the balanced figure behind him, Lukas' Justice, aligned with his spine and shoulders, amplifying it further while also sharpening perception and refining reaction.

He drew it all inward, compressing the layered power through his Manifestation until the space around him rippled faintly under the strain. Even with his control, the intensity bent the air as it leaked, the world itself warping beneath the pressure. This was it. Another fight that would demand everything and more. He stared at the abomination before him.

"Come on, Maerwyn," he murmured.

"Show me what you got." Microcapacitors flared. Will surged. The ground cratered beneath his feet as he launched forward, stone exploding outward in jagged shards. His silhouette blurred through the air, weaving between descending scythes, bending around Knights mid-charge before they could adjust. The first, wolf-faced Spawn swung. Dual daggers carved inward in mirrored arcs, the blades curving toward his ribs.

The second Spawn, bearing the skeletal skull of a boar, followed half a breath later, its sabres crossing in a scissoring strike aimed to cleave through shoulder and hip in a single motion. Alonso's perception narrowed to a razor's edge. Vectors unfolded before him. Branching sequences, possible futures layered one atop another in flashing clarity. Paths of survival, paths of death, micro-adjustments measured in fractions of a heartbeat. Instinct and calculation fused as he moved along the narrowest viable line.

The first dagger descended. His left blade rose and intercepted it, steel biting against hardened sap with a sharp crack. He angled the deflection just enough to alter the trajectory, the redirected edge skimming past his artery by a finger's width. The second dagger followed immediately. His torso twisted before the motion completed.

His right sword rotated beneath his wrist and met the crossing sabre of the second Spawn in a violent clash, sparks erupting in a bright, circular burst that illuminated their skulls for a split second. The trap collapsed. He stepped through the opening instead of back. A Will strike traced across the air beside him. Invisible lines carved through the wolf-faced Spawn's forearm.

The limb separated cleanly, blood-sap spraying in a crimson fan before the rope at its neck snapped taut and the arm reformed from fresh fluid dragged upward from the ground. Regeneration. Alonso cursed. He'd been glad these blood-summons didn't carry their own Will, which made them weaker than the originals. But this near-instant regeneration changed the game. The boar-faced Spawn pressed harder, blades weaving in relentless patterns aimed to corner him.

Alonso leaned into the rhythm, pre-reacting to the sequence before it fully formed. His microcapacitors pulsed in controlled bursts, accelerating contraction and neural transmission by fractions that separated survival from dismemberment. He slid beneath a crossing strike, boots skimming through churned mud and blood-sap as steel howled inches above his face. Rolled. Came up inside the sabres' range and drove a visible slash across the Spawn's chest. Its form split open.

An unseen edge followed half a heartbeat later. No-Strike carved through the torso from a separate angle, cleaving through the internal core. The Spawn shattered into fragments that hit the ground with wet, cracking sounds. It began to pull itself back together instantly. Above him, several scythes descended. They came from every angle, overlapping arcs converging on him. He saw the pattern too late to evade cleanly. One scythe carved across his shoulder. Another sliced deep along his thigh.

Pain burst through him in hot white lines as blood sprayed into the air, mingling with drifting sap. He gritted his teeth and forced the pain down, rolling with the momentum of a third strike. His shoulder tore through churned soil as he redirected the impact instead of taking it head-on. A Will blade lashed outward. Two scythes split mid-arc, snapping apart into spinning crescents of dark metal and wood that crashed into the ground. The tree screamed through its roots. The scythes reformed.

They rose again, edges humming darker than before. Everything just kept regenerating. Alonso's eyes narrowed. He couldn't keep this pace up for long. The wolf-faced Spawn was already back on him. Steel flashed near his throat. He leaned back just enough to feel the wind of it graze his skin. His own blade caught the second dagger. His knee drove into the Spawn's midsection with a crack that sent it sliding across the ground. The boar-faced Spawn rejoined the assault, blades howling in tandem.

He felt the pressure rising. Behind him, the Knights advanced. Seven crimson-armoured figures broke into formation, weapons raised in brutal synchrony. A third Spawn shifted its skull-faced gaze toward him and moved to flank. The battlefield threatened to close in. A net that— BOOM! Imani crashed into the Knight line like a descending pillar.

The projection of Strength loomed behind him, hand resting upon the phantom beast as his hammer collided with the first Knight in a detonation of force that shattered armour and launched the construct backward in a spray of splintered red. Guardian Star dragged the remaining Knights toward him, destabilising their footing and pulling their formation into his orbit. Stormlight cut through the right flank. Leonie, crowned by The Emperor's sovereign weight, intercepted the third Spawn before it could reach Alonso.

Authority radiated outward from her stance as her blade struck in measured, commanding arcs that forced the Spawn back step by step. Ayu's rhythm ignited beside her. She slipped between two Knights, heel cracking one in the jaw before pivoting into an elbow that shattered another's collarbone. Each impact detonated blood-sap into mist. Chiara's next discharge tore through the Knight line in a concussive wave, breaking their advance long enough for Pablo's summons to entangle and pin two of them to the ground.

Silver cards flickered through the chaos as Lukas distorted trajectories, turning killing blows into glancing strikes. The pressure on Alonso eased just enough to breathe. He refocused on the two Spawns before him. Microcapacitors flared in a controlled cascade as he stepped through the dual assault. His left blade parried. His right blade cut. An invisible strike followed from his flank, severing a sabre just as it attempted to change direction mid-swing. The sabre reformed in the Spawn's grip a breath later.

A scythe tore across his back and drove him into the ground. If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation. He rolled through the impact, shoulder carving a furrow through mud and blood-sap, and came up in one motion. Pain lanced across muscle and bone. His wounded thigh buckled for half a fraction before he forced it to hold. Breath sharpened. Vision narrowed.

The wolf- and boar-faced Spawns closed in together, their movements tightening into coordinated kill lines. Above them, executioner branches descended in layered arcs. Near the trunk, fresh blades of condensed sap extruded from the bark itself, forming mid-air and launching toward him like thrusting spears. Alonso moved. His perception collapsed into vectors and timing. Branching sequences overlaid one another in ruthless clarity. Steel intercepted dagger. Sparks burst in a blinding halo.

His second blade rotated under his wrist and deflected a sabre just enough to prevent the trap from sealing. In the same instant, No-Strike flared. An unseen edge severed the dagger arm at the elbow. A second invisible cut split through the boar Spawn's flank from a separate angle. Both bodies ruptured into red spray. They reformed. The scythes descended. He stepped inside their lattice before it closed. Two visible blades flashed upward. Two invisible ones carved outward.

Metallic crescents shattered apart mid-swing. Splinters and dark sap rained down. A sap blade erupted from the trunk at chest height. He twisted mid-step and let it carve along his side rather than pierce through. Blood sprayed. His jaw tightened but his rhythm did not falter. He drove forward through the pain and released No-Strike again and again. Invisible lines crisscrossed the air in ruthless precision. The dagger Spawn split along intersecting planes. The boar-faced Spawn lost both arms in a single breath.

Fragments scattered across churned earth before being dragged back together by the ropes at their necks. The battlefield compressed. Behind him, Imani's hammer detonated against the Knight line, shockwaves cracking stone and dragging red-armoured figures into his gravitational pull. Stormlight flashed as Leonie's blade forced the third Spawn away from Alonso's flank. Ayu's rhythm burst in percussive strikes, shattering blood constructs into sprays of crimson mist.

Chiara's concussive discharge tore through a cluster of Knights and tendrils, while Pablo's summon disrupted the enemy's momentum at every crucial moment. They were holding the perimeter. Alonso drove deeper. The two Spawns adjusted. Their sequences tightened, adapting to his counters. He adapted faster. Microcapacitors pulsed in rapid cascades. Muscle and nerve synchronized at the edge of tearing. He stepped through a dagger thrust before it completed.

His visible blade locked the strike; No-Strike severed from the opposite side. He pivoted into the sabre-wielder's guard, steel clashing in a shower of sparks while an unseen cut sheared through its core. Four blades moved in concert. Two in his hands. Two in his Will. The scythes shrieked downward again, fourteen arcs converging from above. Sap spears launched from the trunk in staggered intervals to deny escape. He cut through the first layer. He rolled beneath the second.

A third sliced across his shoulder and drove him to one knee. Blood struck the ground in heavy drops. Before the fourth could complete its arc, two invisible strikes crossed and shattered it at the base. He rose in the same motion, momentum carrying him forward. Pain radiated through every limb. His Will surged harder. Each exchange refined it. Each near-fatal arc sharpened its edge. No-Strike no longer felt like a separate action; it flowed with his breath, flaring where thought and instinct converged.

He slipped between the two Spawns as they lunged together. Steel met dagger. Steel met sabre. Invisible blades carved through both from opposing angles, intersecting at the exact instant their regeneration lagged. The corridor opened. Nine scythes descended as one. He did not retreat. He stepped into the storm. Two visible blades shattered the frontal arcs. Two unseen ones ripped through the converging lattice. Metal and wood screamed apart in explosive fractures. The gap lasted less than a heartbeat. He took it.

He burst through the collapsing grid and reached the towering wooden arms embedded in the trunk. Branch-fingers flexed inward, threads tightening, sap blades forming around him in a tightening ring. He moved first. His right blade cleaved through a finger. Bark and dark Will split violently. His left followed in a rising arc, severing another. No-Strike flared twice more from opposing vectors. Four fingers ruptured. Fractures raced up the branch-arms in jagged lines of splitting wood and distorted energy.

Four spectral threads snapped at once. Across the clearing, three Knights convulsed and dissolved into heavy pools of blood. One Spawn faltered mid-charge, its rope disintegrating as its form melted into slurry at Alonso's feet. For a fraction of a breath, Maerwyn's domain thinned. He stood beneath the warped trunk, blood running down his side, breath steady despite the carnage around him, poised to sever what remained, when— The hollow sockets within the wood shifted. They locked onto him.

Suddenly the world around him darkened. His sight vanished. Sound cut out. Scent followed. Even EM perception collapsed into silence. Only pain and a faint, lingering sense of space remained. A mental attack?" Houston!"" This… we can't counter. Whatever she did, it's anchored to her Will itself. There's no neural pathway to disrupt. She has no brain." Will? The word settled like iron. Alonso stood in absolute black. No horizon. No ground. No sky. His chest tightened for a fraction of a breath. Blind. Alone.

The instinct to flinch clawed at him. He crushed it. If sight was gone, he would fight without it. If the world erased itself, he would carve it back into existence. He inhaled once. Slow. Forced. He extended his Will outward. At first—nothing. Then pressure. Ripples. Dense fluctuations in the void like unseen currents brushing against him. Maerwyn's presence pulsed vast and suffocating. The scythes hovered like curved voids in the dark. One of the remaining Spawns approached him from behind.

He rebuilt the battlefield from memory and distortion alone. The oak. Arms above. Killing arcs forming. He moved. A scythe dropped. He felt it rather than saw it, a blade-shaped collapse in space. He shifted half a step. Too slow. The edge sliced across his back. White heat detonated along his spine. Blood ran warm down his side. He bit down on a scream he could not hear and rolled. Another scythe tore into his thigh mid-roll. His leg buckled.

Pain exploded through him so violently his focus snapped for a heartbeat. The void tilted. His thoughts scattered. He forced them back. Microcapacitors flared in a desperate pulse. He pushed up. A dagger scraped across his ribs, the cut sending lightning through his nerves. He answered with the only thing he had left. Will. No-Strike lashed outward blindly, severing a scythe mid-descent. His physical blade intercepted a second. Sparks he could not see burst across a darkness he could not perceive. They kept coming.

Too fast. Too many. He twisted, deflected, ducked, but the arcs narrowed. The void filled with converging pressure. A scythe crashed into his forearm as he raised it to block. Bone shuddered. His grip nearly failed. Another cut opened along his calf. His breathing turned ragged. His thoughts flickered at the edges. He drove forward anyway. Toward the trunk. Toward the source. Four scythes converged at once. He severed one. Deflected another. The third carved into his side. The fourth came from behind. Too fast.

Too close. It sheared through his right arm just below the shoulder. For an instant there was only resistance. Then nothing. A tearing sensation. Pain. His balance collapsed. His body spun in the void, blood spraying into darkness he could not see. His mouth opened in a raw scream— And he heard nothing. The void closed in around him. His remaining hand clawed at empty space as dizziness swallowed him whole. Death approached in cold silence. The scythes shifted again, gathering for the final cut. His mind flickered.

He refused to let it fade. If this was the end, he would meet it standing— Then— Warmth. Faint at first. A flicker against the freezing dark. Heat brushed against his failing perception. Fire. It spread through the void like a rising ember. Rhythmic. Alive. A pulse that vibrated through marrow and memory alike. Even without hearing, something broke through the silence. A presence he knew well. Song without sound. Flame without light.

Warmth pressed against his back as something moved between him and the killing arcs. The darkness trembled. And the fire surged forward.