Art vs Kezzes (Finalé)

Recap:

"...They are tearing you apart. Yet, you are healing in tandem. Maintaining a healing spell to match the toll on your physique? Who is...? Where? How?"

/// 3rd Person ///

Successive impossibilities should long since have destroyed him, yet someone's healing was keeping that at bay. Kezzescould tell that much, but he had no clue who was capable of that or how they were pulling it off.

It was clearly beyond the boy himself, but the distance was too great for his comrades to be offering remote support. Healing was a delicate art to begin with, generally requiring both talent and power. It couldn't be done to someone performing mid-aerial maneuvers.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

But reality refuted that theory. Damaged but not downed, the boy's aerial display continued unabated. His crimson-stained eyes gleamed with hellish hostility, and Kezzes felt a chill he had not felt in years—and this sensation, too, gave him pleasure.

"...What a thrill! So many mysteries...!"

The mad dragon exclaimed, the regal look he carried on his face was no longer there. Their swords ceased changing the landscape behind them. Each of their sword strikes sent enough ripples to cut down mountains behind them.

(A/n Like the Ichigo vs Aizen fight from bleach.)

His bleeding eyes left his vision stained red. Bottomless pain and loathing strobed in and out of his mind.

"GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Heat like molten lava was running through his veins. Arthur fought like the embodiment of hell on earth.

The word pain had long since ceased to have meaning. His body shattered, his soul splintering; there was no part of him that didn't hurt, no moment of relief. All five senses merged into the agony, and external information was carried to him in waves of torment. And that's what made this so essential. Just as Kezzes was fueled by the power he obtained after tricking Ophelia , Arthur was running on pain.

Spells of pure mana fired from the Kezzes. A single hit would evaporate his flesh, forcing him to dance across the sky heedless of inertia. The enormous strain ripped the flesh from his extremities, but every wound was healed within moments. It was like a punishment. He was a damned soul not even allowed the privilege of an end.

"As it should be,"

The boy thought.

"As it has to be." He laughed. There were two indelible sinners here. And he had never dared dream that one might be spared from torment.

"What is happening to him?" Myre asked Regis as they continued to wipe out the ones that sided with Kezzes.

Harboring a higher being's soul—to Arthur, this was like putting a lion's heart inside a mouse. It could not fit; it could only tear him apart. Even if it was somehow forced inside, a single beat would cause a rush of blood so powerful his flesh would explode.

"Even a momentary fusion is risky. And right now, he's maintaining it, even as he fights. That's not a sane act. Regardless of the foundation he's built from repeated prior fusions..."

Regis knew this better than anyone. As someone having fate as their genus it was his responsibility to bear the fate of this agony. But he couldn't handle the pain and anguish for a single second. Therefore he hated himself for imposing this much pain on his master and brother.

"We have to hurry up."

Myre said as she continued healing Arthur in tandem with the damage that was being done to him.

"I don't think I can keep up with the damage."

"...How long does it last?"

An ally asura asked.

"We've never tried longer than two minutes,"

Regis growled.

That clinched it for everyone. Their new lord was carving his own life to ribbons, buying them time—time to come up with a plan worth what he was putting himself through.

Kezzes had already ceased to see the others as a threat, his enthusiasm entirely directed to Arthur alone. He found his opponent's inexplicable strength and the mechanism behind it deeply fascinating.

"...I think I'm starting to piece it together. Still a lot of guesswork, though."

He'd made enough observations to voice a hypothesis.

"Her soul lies within you, yes?" he said, certain that much was true. "The soul of Ophelia Rivermoore herself."

Arthur was past responding. His very bones creaked from the speed of his flying sword. He ducked beneath a beam of pure mana, doggedly aiming for Kezzes' perch before chiseling away at the armor with yet another severing strike.

The mad dragon paid him no heed. He just kept musing away.

"A soul merge! I was aware of the theory but have never seen it in practice before. I never heard of it actually happening! To blend another's soul with your own, making their nature and experience yours... What a feat! We have scarcely any method of directly observing the soul, leaving soulology a sadly nascent field, so I have no way of proving this, but..."

Successes in an unobservable domain had results in an observable one. That, too, was commonplace where mages operated. And it allowed Kezzes to narrow down what must be happening within his opponent.

"But once I eliminate the alternatives, a soul merge is the one remaining option. Ophelia's sword arts were hers and hers alone. Even Garland Indrath, my great grandfather, the first to make contact with Deities, could only learn a fraction of the whole and proved unable to copy her fighting style in any measurable way."

What he said was right. Neither Arthur's talent nor physique was made for manoeuvre like this. His body had only he handling it because of Myre's healing and Regis supplying him with aether. Without her support he would have been long since rent asunder. He'd lost count of how many times his tendons had snapped in this fight alone.

"Humans can receive only a finite amount of healing in one lifetime. I'm sure you know that! How much of your total lifespan are you sacrificing for each minute you fight like this?!"

Tears of blood flowed without end. A frigid wind whistled through the hole in his heart. Even his loathing felt like salvation. Using that to fuel his sword arm was the only warmth he had left.

He had no lack of fuel. Arthur had hatred and loathing without end. This man had put an end to his loved one's laughter, triggering a change that continued until nothing of him was left.

"And the saddest part of all?" Kezzes said.

"You've done all that, yet come nowhere close to replacing her."

His tone had suddenly grown still, and that dug far deeper than any attempt to rile Arthur up.

"You know that better than anyone. You're nothing alike. You've forced yourself and forced yourself and copied but a fraction of her arts—but the real one was never...this."

Kezzes knew the genuine article, and it was all too obvious. The blinding light of Ophelia Rivermoore's blades, that unparalleled beauty—the sight would never leave him.

And in light of those memories, this foe was clearly but a pale imitation. However close the forms matched, even if they were copies from the original's soul—the arts this boy delivered were not her sword. Merely a shadow with her shape, cast by the light of Ophelia Rivermoore.

But that was enough. Enough to take him down. With a roar Arthur summoned every bit of aether, the crimson tears had started to drench the ground below as a huge aetheric ball formed in front of him.

"Stop it." Kezzes roared.

Arthur smirked,

"Never"

His clothes were heavy with all the blood they had soaked. But it was the end. The end of this bloodbath. The whole horizon shone as amethyst light engulfed Arthur and a golden sword formed in his hand,

"Let's end this. Here's to never seeing each other again."

The next moment he vanished and appeared in front of Kezzes, his sword piercing his heart and tearing its way from his back. Kezzes coughed out blood as his own body started to consume itself. He fell to the ground with a huge boom, as his gaze remained fixed on the descending Arthur. Arthur walked close to him, every step drenched in his own blood leaving bloody footmarks behind.

The gleam around Arthur disappeared as Ophelia's remnant soul dissipated. Arthur walked over to Kezzes and placed his sword tip on his neck,

"Any last words?"

He asked. Kezzes was about to speak something but Arthur pushed the hilt severing his neck as his head rolled over to his feet.

"I never said tell me what they are ."

He said with a sneer as he fell. Regis and Myre rushed towards him.

"Hey buddy.. wake up. You've done it. Again. Time to go home. Don't sleep here."

Regis said in a panicked voice.

"You know I won't survive this. Take care of my family, and take care of my children."

"Don't say that. YOU OLD HAG, DO SOMETHING"

Regis roared.

"I'm trying my best."

She replied as her hands trembled

"Don't try. It's done…. Regis, can you give my regards to my family?"

Tears welled up in his eyes as his voice became croaky.

"Yes.. yes I will."

"And tell Caera…. *cough cough* I'll always love her, even if I'm gone. I'll still love her. With all my being."

He said as body went limp. His eyes closed and smile formed on his face,

"I wonder what my kids will look like."

He muttered as he lost the last bit of his strength.

/// Caera POV ///

I sat in the living room. It's been a week since he has left. After knowing I have a child, Alice has been taking care of me, staying glued to me and feeding me gross things. Or maybe it's just my pregnancy making me feel that things are gross. Sylvie was sitting beside me as I brushed her hair,

"I hope one of my siblings looks like me."

She said excitedly.

"I hope so. Then we will have three people with the same features."

We laughed and joked for a while. Just as I was about to finish doing her hair she clutched her head and fell down. She screamed endlessly as she kept holding her head. After a few seconds she stopped as I made my way to her.

"Sylvie? What's wrong?"

She looked at me with a tear laden face,

"Papa.. our bond….. it's gone."

She said as I felt the world turn upside down on me.