Chapter 214: Inverse

"Spiral Magic...."

He'd prepare himself as he goes forward, curving his leg and catching himself once Harvard regained his footing. Once he did, the King would begin to spin himself around the Magician like a top, winding up his punch in order to try and strike it in one of his vitals. He recognized that whatever he did to survive his own attacks wasn't just through sheer will, but rather through the stolen style he did. He came to the conclusion that if he struck at his body with Fibonacci, he would disrupt the energy flow across his body as a result, making it so that he cannot simply survive off of tanking such physical force as a whole.

As long as he connects Fibonacci once, Harvard would be dead, due to the external damages he took, as well as the additional damage of the strike.

His body spun more and more around the Magician, keeping his eyes close towards his anatomy, reading around and seeing his blind spot again, utilizing it in order to issue his attack. As he prepares to launch what he thinks is the killing blow, he pauses himself. He noticed that Harvard wasn't moving. He wasn't getting himself up, rather staying in a crouched position. He wasn't looking towards the man, more so closing his eyes, taking deep breaths. He was focusing. He was being careful. Malak raised his eyebrows in confusion, unsure if this was a trick or if it was his genuine emotions. He's never seen the boy hesitate, nay, take precautions. The King concluded that he must've had some knowledge on how his Spiral Magic worked, and is setting up a counterattack. Such a thought barely passed his mind, and he barely would consider it to be a possibility. Despite such a conclusion, he pushed on.

Giving Harvard any breathing room is a sign of death.

"FIBONACCIIIIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!"

SHIKK!!!

As he lunged his fist towards the Magician, aiming directly for his blind spot, the Man did something that not even Malak was expecting. Harvard would issue an attack on himself, ripping his own body in half, letting the fist fly through and hit the ground, missing his target as a whole. Malak would notice that as he was touching the ground, his skin was crawling in insignias. The Rosetta Stone. He used the Glyphs within it to rip himself apart and dodge his attack. As soon as he tried to pull back his punch, Harvard would reattach his body in one swift motion, capturing his arm in the process, binding it, stabbing it across with his entire skeletal structure and muscle fibers, making it act as a makeshift prison. The Red King, in desperation, pumped as much energy as he could to rip the insides to shreds, but no matter how much damage it caused, Harvard merely smiled. Despite blood coming out of his mouth, he was showing no reaction to the internal wounds. "Gotcha...." He'd utter, before casting a spell across his body.

The Seal. The one thing Malak has completely forgotten about.

It swarmed him like locusts, each marking of the sigil embedded into his body, binding his energy away, preventing him from traversing his magic across. It went on every inch he could think of: His arms, his legs, his abdomen, his chest, his back, and even his neck and head. It was like he was being mummified under markings upon markings, his body acting as a canvas that the Magician freely drew on whenever he wanted. He'd ensure the finishing touches once he had his Glyphs travel to Malak's shoulder. "Here, since you've been a big help, I'll free yah."

RRRRRRRIP!!!

The arm was completely torn off, much like how Harvard has lost his own, with the Magician kicking off the King and having him roll across the ground. Malak was quick in utilizing his immortal anatomy, taking swift aim at a deceased soldier's arm and attaching it as a replacement, while Harvard took out such an arm stuck in his body and tossed it aside like it was garbage. "Figured I had to take that card out of the deck extra early. Otherwise, I'd be going unconscious again, or worse! Hehe, You were relying on it, weren't you? I saw how much you panicked whenever I took the opportunity to fight back. You always fall back onto your Magic whenever possible. It's strong, I'll give it that, but it's also making you WAAAAAY too easy to be read." He'd comment.

Malak merely scoffed as he'd loosen up his new arm, letting it be adjusted to the new body it resides. "So what? Even if you banned such a technique, I still have my second chance. I'll simply beat you to a bloody pulp."

"Despite the Disadvantage you're in?"

Malak gained his usual, cocky smirk. "Especially after such a 'Disadvantage.' It's a seal, after all. I just need to break it with that brute force."

Harvard merely rolled his eyes as he got into a stance. "Whatever floats your-" He paused himself as he'd see a silhouette approaching at the distance. The King took notice of his shift in attention and looked at his direction. A Demon. One with Onyx Skin, horns growing out, and a wingspan, being used as a way to make distance. It was Zazel, and he was holding something on his hand. Something just as familiar. Something that horrified the King once he got a glimpse of it.

A Burnt, damaged Hat of A. N. Noh Publiq.

".....Oh. Ohhhhhhh...OH NOW WE'RE TALKING!!!" The boy's expression shifted to a wide grin, as he'd switch spells, already aiming for the ground itself, the Hieroglyphs being absorbed into it. Another Sigil, one possessing the familiar mark that Malak dreaded. "So...If he's DEAD...THAT MEANS I HAVE FREE REIGN HERE, EH!? YOU LOST YOUR COUNTERPICK!!! I CAN GO ALL OUT WITHOUT HAVING TO BE STRUCK OUTTA NOWHERE BY MY OWN FRIENDS!!! THAT IS ABSOLUTELY UNFORTUNATE FOR YOU, BUT A BLESSING FOR ME!!" The familiar, green glow began to shine in the battlefield, with everyone stopping to take heed at its light. Malak's face grew further and further in anguish, a grimace of pure hatred beginning to waft over once more.

It was coming.