on the edge (chapter 166)

Chapter 166

Only Althea Argyros remained calm. Hovering above the chaos, her eyes glowed with infinite knowledge as she raised her hands. Runes burned into existence around her, forming intricate circles of golden light that pulsed with power. With a single word, she brought them down. The world snapped back into place—Grey's reality-warping storm vanishing in an instant. But the effort cost her. Blood ran from her eyes and nose as the backlash of countering such power tore through her body. "We can't contain this for long," she warned, her voice steady despite the pain. "He's evolving—becoming something this world was never meant to hold."

Grey heard every word. And it only fueled his fury. With an earth-shattering roar, he launched himself forward, his massive form crashing through the battlefield like a living apocalypse. The fight was far from over. And the Order of Merlin was running out of time.

Grey's roar echoed like the death knell of the world itself, a sound so raw and primal it shook the air and split the earth. His massive, blood-red basilisk form surged forward, tearing through the shattered ruins of the citadel with terrifying speed. The chaotic love that fueled him distorted the space around his body—stones cracked and floated upward, the ground twisted into molten spirals, and time itself rippled unevenly. His golden eyes, now burning with hate and madness, locked onto Viridian. The Mage Division leader barely had a moment to react before Grey's titanic jaws snapped shut. Viridian hurled himself backward, but the basilisk's teeth grazed him—and even that slight touch was enough to rip flesh and muscle from his leg. Blood sprayed in an arc as Viridian crashed into the ground, his dragonhide robes already burning away under the sheer pressure of the chaotic energy.

But Viridian was far from done. Pain only stoked his power. With a roar of his own, his runes flared molten bright, and the earth responded. Jagged spires of obsidian and crystal burst upward, impaling Grey's underbelly and shattering against his scales. A storm followed—lightning bolts the size of trees crashed into the basilisk's form, searing flesh and sending the scent of burnt meat into the air. But Grey didn't slow. If anything, the pain only made him faster. He surged through the storm, his tail whipping around and catching Viridian mid-cast. The impact was like a meteor strike—bones cracked audibly as Viridian was hurled hundreds of meters away, slamming into the remains of a stone wall hard enough to leave a crater.

Elise tried to intervene. Her voice rose again, not in words but in pure power—a song of light and will that cut through the chaos. The melody forced its way into Grey's mind, trying to shatter his rage and force clarity. Memories flooded back—his wife's smile, his child's laughter—and for a heartbeat, his massive form hesitated. But the love that should have brought peace had long since twisted into something violent and wrong. The memories turned dark—their screams, the blood, the cold emptiness of their loss. With a shriek of pure hate, Grey lashed out.

The soundwave alone hit Elise first, rupturing her eardrums and sending blood streaming from her nose and mouth. Before she could recover, his tail was there. She tried to move, but she wasn't fast enough. The impact hit her square in the chest, and the sound of ribs snapping was drowned out by the explosion of blood as she was hurled across the battlefield. She hit the ground rolling, her light-drenched robes in tatters, trying—and failing—to rise.

Imari Oshima appeared above Grey's head in a flash of motion. Blood smeared her face, her usually composed expression twisted in rage and desperation. Her fists glowed with runic power as she drove them down, striking with the force of falling stars. Bones cracked under her blows—Grey's massive skull dented slightly as her attacks hit home. She struck again and again, ignoring the splintering pain in her own arms, the backlash from hitting something so vast and powerful. But Grey's patience was gone.

He moved faster than she could react. His head snapped up, jaws open wide, and Imari barely managed to twist away—but not fast enough. Teeth the size of swords closed around her leg, and the crunch of bone echoed through the battlefield. She screamed, the sound cut short as Grey whipped his head sideways, slamming her into the ground with enough force to send shockwaves through the earth. Blood spattered across his scales, and Imari lay still, one leg a twisted ruin.

Cao Shen struck from the shadows, his blades finally finding purchase. The darkness around him flickered and surged as his daggers bit deep into the joints of Grey's massive form, slicing through scales and muscle alike. Blood—thick, black, and searingly hot—gushed from the wounds, but the damage only fed the chaotic magic. The more Grey bled, the stronger he became. Reality itself began to buckle under the pressure. The sky cracked. The ground twisted into impossible shapes. And still, Cao struck, his expression grim and focused as he aimed for every weak point he could find.

But Grey had had enough. With a burst of speed that defied his massive form, he spun, his tail slicing through the air like a blade. Cao tried to vanish into his shadows, but he was half a second too slow. The tail hit him full-on, and the sound of impact was wet and brutal. The assassin's body was launched across the battlefield, hitting the ground with a sickening crunch and skidding to a stop in a broken heap.

Althea Argyros floated above the carnage, her glowing blue eyes filled with cold calculation. Blood dripped from her nose and ears, but she kept her focus. Runes spun faster around her, forming sigils and equations beyond mortal comprehension. With a single word, she unleashed them. A golden lance of pure magic descended from the heavens, striking Grey's head with the force of a god's wrath. The explosion of light and heat blinded the battlefield, and when the dust cleared, Grey stood—bleeding, burnt, and furious. But still standing. And still growing stronger. "Fascinating," Viridian whispered from his broken perch. "He's…evolving." And the Order of Merlin was falling apart.

The battlefield was carnage—twisted stone and molten earth, blood and ash painting the ruins in shades of despair. Grey's massive, blood-red basilisk form loomed over it all like a god of destruction. His scales gleamed dark and wet with his own boiling blood, the chaotic love magic warping everything around him. The air rippled with heat and madness; reality bent and twisted under his will. The ground itself seemed to pulse like a wounded heart, veins of molten rock splitting open as his rage bled into the world. And in the face of that cataclysm, the Order of Merlin began to crack.