[NA/N: Yo boys, I am here to overtake for this volume since the other author decided to quit writing for 2 months. I will be going for slow updates, around once or twice a week. This volume has not been the best so far, so I am here to mend that as much as I can. Already planned a banger conclusion to this volume as well. This volume won't be as long as others, likely as long as Volume 5 or a bit longer.]
|Lancelot|
"You've grown immensely, Lancelot," Kathyln remarked, her brown eyes fixed upon me. The crackling bonfire provided the sole interruption in the enveloping silence. I studied my left hand, absently clenching and unclenching it, feeling the tautness of my muscles responding to my command.
Contemplating her question, I weighed my words carefully. Deciding to keep the truth of my reincarnation a secret, I summoned my treasured grimoire of star magic—a testament to my newfound power.
The royal blue grimoire exuded an air of mystique, embellished with a spade emblem shimmering with golden accents across its cover.
"This is a book I stumbled upon during my training under Mordain," I explained, holding the grimoire aloft for all to see. "Within its pages lie the secrets of harnessing aether and mana in a harmonious fusion, a unique form of magic known as mana-aether art."
The revelation sparked astonishment among my companions. In an instant, the chairs scraped against the ground as Alistair, Rachel, Tessia, and Kathyln sprang to their feet, their curiosity piqued. They crowded around, their faces alight with eager interest, their gazes fixated on the grimoire.
Their collective anticipation filled the air, and I knew that my journey had captivated their imaginations. With this newfound power and the knowledge contained within the grimoire, I felt a sense of responsibility to protect and guide them on the path ahead.
Little did they know that the true source of my growth lay deeper, hidden within the enigmatic threads of my past. But for now, the secret remained safe within me, while my focus remained on the bond we shared and the formidable challenges we would face together.
Alistair's blue eyes underwent a striking transformation, shifting into a scarlet hue. Within their depths, a disk of swirling black spun, mesmerised by the profound mysteries held within the grimoire's pages. His gaze scrutinised the book with unwavering intensity, as if seeking to unravel its secrets with a mere glance.
"Could you demonstrate a spell for us?" Curiosity danced across Kathyln's usually composed countenance, enlivening her features with a flicker of childlike wonder. The other Paladins nodded eagerly in agreement, their eyes reflecting a collective desire to witness the extent of my newfound powers.
A smile tugged at the corners of my lips, a playful glimmer shimmering in my eyes as I stood from my seat. Emboldened by the combined forces of mana and aether coursing through my veins, the Godrune etched upon my back ignited, imbuing the air with a pulsating energy.
With the grimoire held open in my hands, its pages seemingly alive with arcane knowledge, I beckoned the motes of aether to heed my call. These ethereal particles, unable to traverse the limitations of my mortal form, eagerly responded to the grimoire's guidance, their luminous presence growing in intensity.
I decided to showcase a spell that had proven invaluable in my battles against Kezess—an enchantment designed to augment mobility and enable swift teleportation. It was this very spell that allowed me to keep pace with his heightened foresight and bewildering speed.
In a symphony of incantations and the harmonious blending of mana and aether, I conjured forth a manifestation of stellar brilliance—the very essence of my star magic.
Before us materialised an extraordinary object, a celestial marvel that defied conventional description. Dozens of pointed spires radiated from its core, piercing the air in all directions with a sense of otherworldly grace. The star hummed with the convergence of aether and mana, its radiance casting an ethereal glow upon the surrounding space. Within its sacred embrace, a portal to distant realms awaited, patiently poised to transport me to its celestial destination.
With a flourish, my body dissolved in a cascade of luminescence, traversing the vast expanse of spatium to reemerge within the vicinity of the small star. From this astral vantage point, I regarded my companions with a smile, the flicker of starlight dancing in my eyes.
"Behold," I announced, my voice carrying a subtle cadence of awe and satisfaction. "This, my friends, is but a glimpse of the extraordinary spells that lie within my grasp."
"Incredible!" Alistair's voice shattered the hushed silence, filled with a mix of awe and admiration. "To witness the seamless fusion of mana and aether within your grasp is truly remarkable."
I nodded, my gaze still fixed on the boundless potential of our intertwined powers. As the ethereal glow of the Godrune dimmed and the grimoire nestled securely in my hand, I felt a surge of satisfaction.
"Yes," I replied, taking a step closer to Alistair. But before I could finish my sentence, an intense pain erupted within me, cutting off my words.
A gasp escaped my lips as scarlet droplets spilled forth, staining my garments. My eyes widened in disbelief as I traced the source of agony—a gleaming emerald blade buried deep within my body, perilously close to piercing vital organs.
"Why?" I managed to mutter, my voice laced with both confusion and anguish.
Alistair's countenance shifted, his once-familiar voice transforming into something altogether different. It carried an air of regality, blended with a chilling detachment that seemed to transcend mortal boundaries.
"I warned you, didn't I?" he sneered, his voice resonating with authority. "Our paths would cross once more, and death would be your companion."
"Kezess Indrath!" I gritted my teeth, summoning every ounce of strength to hold on. My mana and aether surged within me, swirling together in a volatile mix. In the midst of this chaos, Bell swiftly arrived at my side, her concern palpable through our telepathic connection.
"No, Lancelot! You're injured!" Bell cried, desperate to protect me.
"It doesn't matter," I replied resolutely. "We must neutralise Alistair first."
Reacting with unwavering determination, the other Paladins sprang into action. Yet, Kathyln and Tessia struggled to keep pace with the ferocity of the battle, a fact that Kezess, now inhabiting Alistair's form, was all too aware of. He lunged toward them, his sword poised for a deadly strike.
Fortunately, Rachel's ethereal spirit, Undine, emerged to shield her comrades. Manipulating the water element, she conjured a protective barrier, swiftly guiding Kathyln and Tessia out of harm's way, just beyond the reach of Kezess's lethal blade.
[Spirit Dive]
Bell's essence merged seamlessly with mine as we once again submerged ourselves in her formidable power. I could feel the weight of the previous day's battle with Kezess, a lingering fatigue that threatened to impede my performance. Yet, there was no room for hesitation—I had no choice but to push forward.
Alistair, now possessed by Kezess, exuded an overwhelming strength. Though I knew he surpassed me in raw power, I was determined not to let that deter me.
"Do you truly believe I would be unprepared, you insignificant wretch?" Kezess sneered, his voice dripping with contempt and self-assuredness.
In an instant, ominous black flames erupted from the wound he had inflicted upon me. Agony seared through my body, each flicker of pain resembling a thousand needles piercing my flesh. It felt as if my very cells were being consumed by an inferno, threatening to overload my senses. With sheer resolve, I channeled Bell's power and my own wind magic, desperately attempting to counteract the devastating effects.
But my efforts proved futile.
No matter how many motes of aether I marshaled to contain the spreading black flames of vivum, I found myself unable to heal the internal damage inflicted upon me. The black flames defied my attempts, stubbornly resisting the mending properties of mana.
"Lancelot!" Rachel's voice pierced through the chaos, her own presence merging with mine as she, too, entered the depths of Spirit Dive. A colossal wall of water surged forth, catching Kezess off guard and momentarily sweeping him off his feet.
"Fool!" I muttered under my breath, frustration and self-recrimination tainting my words. I could feel Bell's power slipping through my grasp, my concentration faltering under the weight of the excruciating pain.
Collapsing to the ground, I gritted my teeth, unwilling to accept defeat.
"Still clinging to life?" Kezess scoffed, effortlessly dispelling Rachel's attack with a dismissive wave, "Perhaps witnessing the demise of your beloved blonde will push you further toward the precipice of death."
I couldn't help but let my fury rise within me. "I never thought the mighty king of Asuras would stoop so low," I seethed, my voice laced with contempt, "Resorting to such underhanded tactics to eliminate a mere 'lesser.' How far you have fallen, Kezess."
"History is written by the victors," he retorted coldly, his eyes glinting with malice, "And I shall erase this disgraceful chapter along with our last encounter, ensuring your demise."
"You claim to despise the Vritras, yet your own darkness surpasses even theirs, Kezess!" I declared, my words ringing with defiance, despite feeling my power waning.
The relentless black flames, though temporarily contained, gnawed at my being, inching ever closer to my vital organs. Despite my breakthrough to the integration stage, the grim reality remained: a single fatal blow to my heart or a crushing strike to my brain would instantly claim my life.
Rachel, strong as she was, stood alone against Alistair's formidable might. There was no one else who could come to her aid.
Kezess had us cornered, our options dwindling, and time running out.
The room resonated with a distinct, unmistakable sound.
Click-!
In an instant, the world was bathed in blinding white as Kezess staggered backward, pushed away by a figure shrouded in shadows and darkness. Yet, despite the concealment, I could discern the identity of the enigmatic presence.
It was none other than Gary Whiteborn.
The leader of the Paladins.
The unparalleled prodigy of Dicathen.
The esteemed commander himself.
"I never anticipated such a reunion," Gary's voice carried a hint of disappointment as he gazed upon Alistair's overtaken form, "To think you would succumb to such weakness, allowing your body to be commandeered, Alistair."
"He is not here," Kezess retorted, lunging forward with his emerald sword, "And what are you supposed to be? How are you alive? Did that Vritra bastard betray me?" The unfamiliarity with Alistair's body and his mastery of mana and aether arts hindered Kezess. He lacked the dexterity to wield two weapons simultaneously like Alistair did, relying solely on the raw power at his disposal. Though he possessed Alistair's eyes, he lacked the same level of expertise. Consequently, he fell short of Alistair's true prowess, albeit not by a significant margin.
Muscle memory might have provided some advantage, but Kezess wasn't willing to gamble on it.
Rachel's attention turned to Gary, her gaze filled with anticipation, as he tossed a ring in her direction. "Rachel," he commanded, "Use the device within that ring to heal him."
I closed my eyes, surrendering to the soothing sensation that washed over me as the motes of healing vivum coursed through my battered body. Guided by the artifact's power, they danced gracefully, countering the malevolent flames and extinguishing them one by one.
The pain subsided, gradually replaced by a renewed vitality that seemed almost surreal. Tissues mended, flesh regenerated, and the injuries that had marred me just moments ago vanished as if they had never existed. It was a marvel, an act of divine intervention that defied the boundaries of time itself.
Opening my eyes, I found myself met with the sight of Rachel, tears streaming down her face, a mix of relief and worry etched upon her exquisite features. I reached out, my hand caressing her cheek, reveling in the warmth of her soft, healthy skin, flushed with the rush of blood.
"Don't leave me, Lancelot," she pleaded, her voice quivering, "You must not."
"I promise you, Rachel," I assured her, my voice filled with conviction, "I will not falter."
With her hand clasped in mine, we turned our attention back to the battlefield, only to find that the conflict had already concluded. Gary gently lowered Alistair's unconscious form beside us, his shadowy figure bearing the marks of battle, wounds and lacerations tracing his form. Yet, curiously, there was no crimson liquid staining his ethereal being.
"This is not my true self," Gary explained, his voice resonating with a sense of detachment, "I exist elsewhere. What you see before you is but a mere clone."
My eyes widened in astonishment. He had managed to create a clone, an illusion of himself to intervene in the battle.
"Fear not," he continued, his voice filled with determination, "I will return swiftly. Rachel, Lancelot, protect Dicathen in my absence."
As his ephemeral form began to disintegrate, Gary offered us a heartfelt smile. "I am grateful that you have survived, Lancelot," he expressed.
"The feeling is mutual, Gary," I responded, my own smile mirroring his, as he faded away into nothingness.
[NA/N: Remember to vote if you guys like this chapter! It helps me in gauging the quality of my writing!]