Part Thirty-Three

The "Thousand-Mile Chain," a weapon of sublime and terrible beauty, asserts its dominance on the battlefield with a display of raw, unbridled power. These chains, pulsing with a dark purple hue, transform the area into a canvas of destruction, painting a picture of chaos and precision.

Imagine a blur, so swift and agile that the eye can barely follow. This is the essence of Lia's chains, moving at a speed that defies comprehension. In a single second, the chains make countless sharp turns, each more abrupt and unexpected than the last. They move with such velocity that they create a sonic barrage, a constant thunderous roar that resonates through the very bones of those who witness their wrath.

As the chains surge forward, they approach the academy colosseum, a structure known for its formidable strength. But against the might of the "Thousand-Mile Chain," it stands no chance. The chains, without ever physically touching the colosseum, unleash an unbearable heat. This heat is so intense that it causes the air around the chains to shimmer and warp, creating a surreal, dreamlike effect. As they pass by the colosseum, the immense heat causes the solid structure to melt, as if it were made of wax under a relentless sun. A hole, perfect and round, forms in the colosseum's side, a testament to the chains' fearsome power.

The movement of the chains is a spectacle in itself. They do not just travel in straight lines; they bend, twist, and coil with a fluidity that is almost serpentine. These sharp, angular turns are executed with such precision and speed that they seem to tear the very fabric of the air apart. The chains' path is unpredictable, a labyrinth of motion that is impossible to anticipate.

As they weave their deadly dance, the chains create patterns in the air – spirals, loops, zigzags – each more intricate than the last. They move with a grace that belies their destructive nature, each turn a stroke of a painter's brush, each twist a note in a symphony of devastation.

The chains do not merely destroy; they transform. Buildings, once solid and imposing, melt away into nothingness. The ground itself turns to liquid under the chains' scorching touch. The air crackles with heat and energy, superheated to the point of combustion. The chains leave in their wake a trail of molten rock and metal, a river of destruction that flows through the battlefield.

The battlefield is a whirlwind of motion, a symphony of chaos and strategy, as Professor Thaddeus and the summoned creature Itril engage in a relentless duel. Amidst this maelstrom, Lia's "Thousand-Mile Chain" circles around them, a tempest of dark purple energy making hundreds of sharp turns every minute, a deadly vortex waiting to strike.

Professor Thaddeus, his stance grounded and his focus unwavering, keeps his eyes locked on Itril. He reads the creature's every movement, calculating and anticipating. Itril, a formidable adversary, mirrors Thaddeus's every move, its form blurring with increasing speed and strength. The creature is learning, evolving with each exchange, its form becoming more adept, more dangerous.

Their fight is a breathtaking display of martial prowess. Thaddeus delivers a series of rapid strikes, each one precise and forceful. Itril, in response, not only counters but also mimics these movements, its body adapting to mirror Thaddeus's fighting style. Every punch Thaddeus throws is met with an equal and opposite reaction, every kick countered with increasing agility.

Thaddeus's movements are fluid, a blend of offensive and defensive maneuvers honed through years of combat. He throws a punch, and Itril blocks, its own fist coming up in a swift counterattack. Thaddeus sidesteps, narrowly avoiding the blow, and spins to deliver a powerful kick. But Itril is quick, its body twisting unnaturally to dodge and retaliate with a barrage of strikes.

The ground beneath them cracks and crumbles with the force of their blows. Each time their fists meet, a shockwave emanates, sending debris flying. Itril's strikes are becoming more powerful, more precise. With each successful block or counter, it grows faster, its muscles bulging with newfound strength.

Thaddeus, though seasoned and skilled, acknowledges the increasing challenge. 'This beast is getting stronger by the second,' he thinks, adjusting his strategy with every move. He feints to the left and strikes to the right, but Itril anticipates this, its own movements becoming a mirror image of Thaddeus's.

As Thaddeus lands a solid punch on Itril's torso, the creature stumbles but quickly recovers, its eyes gleaming with an almost sentient understanding. It lunges forward, its fists a blur of motion, forcing Thaddeus to retreat. But the Professor is resilient. He parries a swipe, ducks under a high kick, and counters with a swift uppercut.

The impact is immediate. Itril reels from the blow but then surges forward with renewed vigor. Its movements are a chaotic blend of Thaddeus's own techniques and its primal instincts. The creature is not just fighting; it's learning, adapting, becoming a mirror of Thaddeus's own combat prowess.

Their exchange is a relentless cascade of strikes, blocks, and counters. With each passing moment, Itril becomes faster, stronger, more formidable. Thaddeus realizes the escalating difficulty of the fight, the creature pushing him to his limits.

In the midst of chaos, Lia, her focus momentarily diverted from the relentless onslaught of her chains, looks back in disbelief. "Dammit, what happened? How did he lose?" she wonders, her gaze drifting towards the academy, the concern evident in her tone. Her mind races with strategies, aware that they are on the brink of obtaining the key, a victory within grasp yet slipping away.

Nessa, lounging casually beside Kuza, yawns nonchalantly. "Oi, I think it's best if you make your summon back up," she suggests, her tone light but carrying an undercurrent of urgency. She's aware of the stakes but remains seemingly unperturbed, a relaxed demeanor in the face of escalating tension.

Kuza, observing the battle intently, notes Lia's growing anxiety. "Lia is stressing out," he comments, lifting his finger to create a magic circle under Itril. His voice is calm, yet there's a hint of concern as he speaks. "Nessa, you really shouldn't look down on my summon," he adds, his confidence in Itril unshaken despite the creature's challenges.

At that moment, Lia's chains begin to crackle with corrupted mana, a dangerous and unstable energy that adds a new layer of ferocity to their assault. The chains start to spin around each other in a spiraling vortex, maintaining their insane speed and agility while the daggers at their tips glow an even brighter purple, signaling an impending surge of power.

Meanwhile, Professor Thaddeus, facing the dual threat of Lia's chains and Itril's relentless attack, grumbles with a mix of frustration and determination. "This is going to come out of my paycheck, you kids are a pain in the ass," he mutters under his breath, his voice tinged with a weary resolve. He knows that the upcoming clash will be monumental.

Itril charges at Thaddeus from one side, its form a blur of speed and aggression. Simultaneously, Lia's chains, now crackling with corrupted energy, launch an attack from the other side. Both assailants converge on Thaddeus with incredible velocity, their attacks a perfect storm of destructive power.

In response, Thaddeus activates his last line of defense. Coating his body in a layer of protective mana, his veins bulge with the strain of channeling such immense energy. With a forceful motion, he conjures magic shields on both sides of him, preparing to withstand the dual assault.

Itril's impact against the shield is colossal, cracking it with a thunderous force. The resulting horizontal-style crater sends a shockwave rippling through the battlefield, a testament to the creature's enhanced power.

At the same moment, the daggers on Lia's chains make contact with the other magic shield. The impact is so powerful and instantaneous that the shield shatters nearly instantly. Thaddeus, enveloped in mana, attempts a desperate counter. He slaps the chains with his hands, trying to grab and halt their relentless momentum.

The collision results in an explosion of such magnitude that it destroys the magic shield behind Thaddeus, where Itril is positioned. The floor beneath them melts away, unable to withstand the combined force of the impact. The thunderous explosion resonates across the battlefield, a deafening roar that marks the climax of their confrontation.

The impact of Lia's chains against Professor Thaddeus's magic shield unleashes a cataclysmic explosion, sending a ferocious heatwave surging in all directions. The intensity of the blast is such that it distorts the very air, creating a pulsating shockwave that ripples through the battlefield with unrelenting fury.

The heatwave, radiating from the point of impact, is like a miniature sunburst, its blistering waves scorching everything in its path. The ground cracks and heaves under the immense pressure, and the air itself seems to shimmer and warp as if unable to bear the extreme temperature.

In this maelstrom of energy, Itril becomes an unforeseen beneficiary. The summon absorbs the rampant energy around it, its form starting to glow with a newfound intensity. The explosion doesn't harm Itril; instead, it acts as a catalyst, enhancing its strength and speed exponentially. The creature's aura pulses with the absorbed energy, making it an even more formidable opponent.

Professor Thaddeus, standing firm amidst this chaos, is a testament to resilience and determination. Despite his protective mana coat, the sheer intensity of the heatwave is overwhelming. His clothes – his shirt and most of his pants – are incinerated almost instantly, turned to ash by the scorching heat. His body, though shielded, is not entirely spared. First-degree burns mar his skin, a testament to the explosion's ferocity. His hands, which had attempted to stop the relentless momentum of Lia's chains, suffer the most, bearing the brunt of the impact and resulting in severe third-degree burns.

The academy's emergency protection array, a system designed to mitigate such catastrophic events, activates in response to the explosion. A shimmering dome of energy envelops the academy, its protective magic working to reduce the extent of the damage. However, while the array saves the academy from complete destruction, the battlefield itself tells a different story.

The area where Thaddeus and his adversaries clash is a scene of devastation. The ground is a patchwork of craters and molten rock, the air still crackling with residual energy. Buildings nearby bear the scars of the explosion, their structures damaged and weakened.

In the aftermath of the explosion, Nessa observes Professor Thaddeus, now standing exposed and muscular in the wake of his protective gear's destruction. Her smile is one of manic excitement. "Phwwwwwhht," she exhales with a mix of awe and anticipation. "Hahaha, Seriously, how strong is that old man? If he's this strong, how strong are the principals?" Her enthusiasm is palpable as she stands and stretches, signaling her readiness to join the fray.

Kuza, his attention fixed on Itril, contemplates the creature's enhanced state. 'He absorbed a lot of the energy; right now, he should be stronger and faster than Thaddeus,' he assesses internally, his gaze reflecting the strategic calculations running through his mind.

Meanwhile, Lia, her expression cold and resolute, retracts her chains. Her eyes, unwavering and icy, fixate on Thaddeus. "As you can see, you can't beat us," she states, her hand extended demandingly. "Hand over the key." The determination in her stance is unyielding, a clear challenge to Thaddeus's authority and power.

Thaddeus, pushing his hair back, responds with a mixture of respect and defiance. "For your age, you're not bad. However, you are still too young to beat me." His voice carries a tone of seasoned experience, acknowledging her prowess yet asserting his superiority.

Kuza, interjecting, acknowledges Thaddeus's strength but points out the current tactical disadvantage. "No one doubts that. Nevertheless, you are unable to use any techniques, as long as it stays like this, we won't lose," he states, his tone matter-of-fact and confident.

Thaddeus, unbothered by the verbal exchange, dismisses the talk as irrelevant. "This talk is pointless," he declares, ready to continue the battle.

Kuza concurs with a nod. "I agree." He raises his finger, signaling Itril, who, now glowing and energized, rushes at Thaddeus with incredible speed, twice as fast as before. Itril's assault is a blur, its speed and power significantly amplified by the absorbed energy.

Thaddeus, reacting with astonishing reflexes, catches Itril's attack with his palm. The impact is monumental, sending vibrations through the remains of the battlefield. However, Itril's enhanced strength takes Thaddeus by surprise, the force of the attack breaking his humerus bone with a resounding crack.

The ground beneath them, already weakened by the earlier explosion, fractures further under the strain of their clash. A network of cracks rapidly spreads, breaking open to reveal an underground cavern. As they fall into the cavern, Thaddeus and Itril continue their brutal exchange, each blow a testament to their incredible strength and resilience.