Chapter 27: The Unseen Horizon

The Unseen Horizon

[The Devotion of an Atheist]

Two sides, two goals.

For them, the objective is the research—a tool to fulfill their personal agendas and win favor from their superiors. Everything else is just a stepping stone.

For us, it's survival. Eliminate them while minimizing casualties.

The issue, however, lies in the town's divided beliefs.

Seventy percent of the population clings to blind faith in the church, worshipping the Inquisitors as divine instruments of judgment. To them, death is nothing but a transition—a passage into the heavens. No proof exists, yet they trust in the possibility. Some embrace it with open arms, while others hesitate, moving only at the command of their holy superiors.

The remaining thirty percent stand with the Constabulary. Stubborn and resolute, they refuse to rely on outsiders, believing such dependence is worse than death itself. "We were born here, so we will die here!" If this town were a nation, they would be its martyrs.

I could use Kyoka Suigetsu to forcefully evacuate them all. But that would be impossible—and foolish.

Moving the masses would raise suspicion. The moment the blind believers noticed something amiss, they would alert the higher-ups. If the enemy discovered we were prioritizing civilians, they would take them hostage. Alive, they could be used against us. Disposable, yes—but still valuable leverage.

The only reason the people haven't been slaughtered already is because the enemy needed them for research. Now that the research is complete, the town has outlived its purpose. It will be reduced to ashes.

And I... have stolen the finished research.

That's why the enemy moves in silence. That's why they hunt in the shadows. Assassinating me is their top priority. They are searching for the stolen data, scouring the town, house by house. Tourists are their first targets—outsiders are the most likely culprits.

By sheer coincidence—or perhaps their arrogance—the townspeople and visitors are housed separately. There is an inn, but it's likely already purged. The Inquisitors or the Constabulary will fabricate a story, ensuring the townsfolk remain ignorant.

But there's a greater threat looming.

If the Wail arrives and discovers the research is missing, there's a small possibility that the Inquisitors might be eliminated in retaliation. That would be one problem solved.

But I am not naïve enough to hope for such luck.

Kai and Vance—the twin enforcers—are powerful. A perfect tag team. And the Wail might decide that the entire town is expendable.

That would give us a losing battle—but a winning war.

If everyone is massacred, we would no longer have to hold back. No more hostages. No more restraint.

But I doubt it will be that simple.

It's laughable.

Viren's goal was to disrupt their plans. I helped him take the first step, yet we failed in the second. He couldn't take them down.

Five stars of magic power. A formidable level, yet not enough against an ability so destructive it defies logic.

Even with seven-star magic, the old man was at a disadvantage. His abilities weren't suited for this kind of fight. Two five-stars working together equal ten. The math is against us.

Viren was prepared to drag them to the grave with him, but he realized that even death wasn't enough. Instead, he stalled, gathered intel, and escaped.

Had he succeeded, I would have been left alone to face the Wail—an enemy with an unknown ability.

Viren's divination suggested damage transfer magic, but he was certain that Vance wasn't the Wail.

That could mean several things:

A copy magic akin to August's?

Forbidden Magic: Soul Swapping? Puppeteering?

The enemy's face was hidden, and I estimated their magic power to be around eight or nine stars—two to three stars higher than mine.

Troubling.

I was lost in thought, standing at the pinnacle of the clock tower in the heart of the town, my gaze locked on the horizon.

And then—something darkened the sky.

"…This is—"

My eyes narrowed as multiple battle airships loomed in the distance, their metallic hulls gleaming under the moonlight. They were closing in.

Five to six minutes at most.

"Did the Wail already arrive?" I muttered under my breath.

Viren hadn't even had time to recover. It had only been half an hour since we parted ways.

How troublesome.

I tore my gaze from the sky and turned toward the church—the likely nest of Kai and Vance.

Then, movement.

A lone figure leaped onto the church rooftop, his gaze locked onto the incoming ships.

Kai.

A moment later, another figure emerged.

Vance.

The two exchanged a few words before vanishing, heading toward the church's landing zone.

I trailed them in silence, weaving through the shadows.

Viren sat in weary silence, his frail body still recovering as he stood guard before the tent where his granddaughter lay. Suigetsu, his sole ally, had already departed to face their foes. They both knew the task was near impossible, yet their choices were few. Every moment of rest granted their enemies time to rally, growing ever stronger. But time was a cruel paradox—it replenished their strength while sapping his own.

Kyoka Suigetsu specialized in illusion magic, a craft he had tested against warriors of great renown—those marked with the power of eight stars. It had proven formidable, yet against the Order, it was futile. Those who abided by its creed were blind, yet in their darkness, they could still perceive the vague outlines of the world. And wizards? In his sight, they were more than flesh and blood. Their magic manifested as luminous echoes of themselves, betraying their presence regardless of disguise or suppression. True concealment required an art beyond simple illusion—one he had imparted to Suigetsu long ago: the complete suppression of magic itself.

"I don't have much time left…" Viren murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking to the night itself. He lifted his gaze to the heavens, where a sea of stars stretched endlessly, their cold light indifferent to the struggles of men. He stared for a lingering moment before rising to his feet, his tattered robes fluttering like the remnants of a forgotten legend.

And then, without a word, he walked.

To where?

Only the night knew. Only fate would tell.

At the entrance of the town, the heavy hum of battle ships landing reverberated through the air. Suigetsu, who had found a new way to suppress his presence, watched from a distance, his form blending with the shadows. This time, he was certain—the Wail had arrived. But not alone. He'd brought the entire squad with him.

I unsheathed my sword, the weight of it familiar in my hand. My heart beat faster, but my mind remained focused. This is the moment. A quick attack, a quick retreat. That's the plan. An assassination—not a drawn-out battle. I wasn't here for that. A precise strike, and I'd be gone before anyone even realized what happened. They were all too eager, too rattled, their emotions fraying with the fear of the Wail's arrival.

"Vrrr-clunk! Psssshhhhh..."

The sound of the battle airship's gate slowly creaking open filled the air, a heavy, metallic groan that reverberated through the ground. A thick cloud of smoke billowed from within, swirling like a veil of mystery, and the unmistakable sound of boots striking metal echoed out.

Tack.

Tack.

Tack.

The rhythmic steps grew louder, each one an ominous beat, a herald of the coming presence. My grip tightened around my sword, my knuckles white with the strain. I repositioned, angling the blade at the entrance like a javelin, ready to strike. But despite the anticipation that crackled in the air, the sword was calm. Its cold steel, unmoving, unflinching, as if it knew the fate that awaited.

"Greetings, Lord—"

"Sword Hurl: Spectral Harpoon!"

I didn't wait a second longer. The moment had arrived, and I knew it—every second of waiting, every shift in the air had led to this. They were growing paranoid, nervous about the research being stolen, and the Wail was coming. The heavy fog of smoke worked in my favor, their nerves frazzled, emotions unstable—a perfect opening. It was the perfect opportunity—strike while they were vulnerable.

"To catch the bandits, you must strike the leader first," I murmured to myself, watching the sword I hurled fly toward its mark with blinding speed.

It was a blur, an almost impossible projectile, nearly impossible to dodge. If you'd seen it coming—perhaps you could have moved—but with the surrounding smoke, the odds of a successful assassination were far more likely than not.

"!?"

As an expert, the Wail could sense the shift in the air—a disturbance, a threat approaching. His instincts screamed at him, but he knew it was too late to dodge. The deadly force closing in felt inevitable. Desperation coursed through him as he raised his hand in a swift, commanding gesture.

"Abyssal Frost!"

With a forceful wave, he summoned a thick, protective shield of ice, hoping to intercept the incoming blade. Despite the blessings of his eyes, he couldn't see the danger clearly, but he could feel its presence, its overwhelming intent to kill.

Shrrrkkl!

The ice erupted around him, forming a massive sculpt of black frost. But then—unexpectedly—an unimaginable wave of pain tore through his chest. His eyes widened in horror as the intense agony surged through him.

"What!?"

He staggered back, eyes frantically searching for the source, but the sword—somehow—had already pierced through, bypassing the very shield he'd conjured to protect himself. He subconsciously looked down and saw the sword blade protruding from his body.

'What's going on!? Didn't I block that already!?' Panic flooded his mind as the sharp pain coursed through him.

Blood surged up from his throat, and he couldn't hold it back. "Blargh!!" A mouthful of crimson splattered onto the cold, metallic ground beneath him.

His body crumpled, slamming into the floor with a sickening thud.

Then, as if mocking him further, the sword was pulled back with an eerie precision, a string attached to its hilt tugging it free, dragging it through his flesh. The motion caused him to spill even more blood, his vision blurring from the excruciating pain.

"?!"

From a distance, the twins felt a growing unease. Normally, they would be on their knees, bowing low, for the Wail was a figure to be feared—an embodiment of power, a presence too immense to be questioned. To even look upon him was considered a form of defiance.

Yet, in this moment, despite the ingrained fear of punishment, they found their eyes drawn upward. The smoke around them began to dissipate, slowly revealing the scene before them, and their minds struggled to comprehend what they were seeing.

"What!"

The realization hit them like a crashing wave—their leader, Nyx Frostbane, was on the brink of death. This was no ordinary attack. Something had gone horribly wrong.

Their leader, Nyx Frostbane, was teetering on the edge of death. Yet, instead of fear or panic, an unsettling excitement flickered in the eyes of his subordinates. Kai and Vance exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them, as if a hidden message had been exchanged in the blink of an eye. A devilish smile tugged at their lips, and they couldn't resist the urge to move toward him, the gleam of their malice evident in their every step.

"So, the omniscient and omnipotent being who looks down on everything else is about to die?" Kai spoke first, his voice dripping with contempt. He stepped casually on Nyx's wound, his boot grinding into the wound, before shrugging nonchalantly, as if to add another layer of mockery to the moment.

"Y-you..." Nyx tried to speak, his breath shallow, but his voice faltered as the sharp pain in his chest intensified. His heart was pierced, and death seemed an inevitable companion, looming over him with each beat of his fading pulse.

However, the twins didn't appreciate the way Nyx looked at them, nor the way he had always treated them like insignificant pests. Their anger boiled over, and Vance couldn't hold it in any longer. "You bastard! Who do you think you are, huh?" His voice shook with years of suppressed frustration and resentment. He had been humiliated, belittled, and used by Nyx for far too long. Without another word, Vance started kicking the dying Nyx, the fury in his every blow making it clear that this was years of mistreatment unleashed.

"Take this, you piece of shit!"

"Some omnipotent being? Look how powerless you are!!"

"Piece of shit!"

Their words were sharp, venomous, as their boots collided with Nyx's body, each kick more forceful than the last. The curses flowed freely as they continued their brutal assault. I stood there, watching, recognizing the opportunity to strike again, knowing that their distraction could work in my favor.

But just as I was about to raise my sword for another attack, a surge of magic hit the air like a pulse, and I froze. It was coming from Nyx.

"You bastards!"

The words were a raw scream of rage, hoarse from the blood he coughed up. With a defiant, shaky motion, Nyx slowly rose to his feet, wiping away the blood from his mouth with a trembling hand. His body was battered, his chest barely holding together with the ice magic that wrapped around his wound, but he wasn't done yet.

"You actually dare to hit me!?" His voice was colder than ever, though it shook with pain. The sheer fury in his eyes told me he was far from defeated.

Kai didn't sit idle either; he was eager to end this. With a flash of his right hand, plasma formed around his fingers, ready to explode Nyx's head into oblivion. He gritted his teeth, preparing to make the final move, but as he raised his hand to strike, the black ice around Nyx was faster.

Kai's hand was frozen solid in an instant, the cold sinking deep into his skin and causing his fingers to stiffen painfully.

"What!?" he hissed, taken aback by the sudden freezing magic. He tried to pull back, but the ice held him fast. A sharp, biting sensation spread through his arm, making his body tense. His plasma began to flicker and waver.

"Vance, take my damage and transfer it to him!" Kai ordered urgently, his voice strained with frustration.

Vance, still reeling from the unexpected turn of events, snapped back to reality. With a quick motion, he placed his hand over Kai's frostbitten shoulder, and the frostbite transferred to him. Kai's hand loosened, but Vance was still covered in the same black ice that had gripped Kai moments before.

Vance glanced down at Nyx, bloodied but standing, and felt his anger surge again. "Enough of this!" He stepped forward, his fist clenched, ready to land the final blow. The magic swelled within him—his Doll Hex was ready to unleash.

"What's going on, sir?" Soldiers from the other ships slowly emerged, their eyes scanning the scene, trying to make sense of the chaos unfolding before them. Their voices were filled with confusion and uncertainty, the tension in the air thickening. They had no idea that Vance was moments away from delivering a deadly blow to Nyx. But their arrival was just enough to halt his movements.

Vance's eyes narrowed as he turned toward the soldiers, frustration seething beneath his calm facade. His fist still hovered in the air, the energy coiling around it ready to strike.

As the smoke thickened, I could feel the tension rise. This was the perfect moment. The chaos around us was intensifying, and I knew I had to strike now, before things shifted in favor of the opposition. My grip on my sword tightened, and I whispered to myself, "This is my golden opportunity." With a deep breath, I took my stance, positioning myself with absolute focus.

"Universal Attack: Sword Draw!"

A flurry of sword ki shot from my blade, each strike precise and deadly. The soldiers in my line of fire fell one after another, the energy from each blade piercing through their defenses and disabling their airships. I was relentless, moving in rhythm, the barrage of energy sweeping across the battlefield. Every swing was calculated. Each opponent who dared to stand in my path was struck down, the power behind the sword ki unstoppable.

But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw it. Kai's gaze snapped to me, sharp and intense. In that split second, I knew the danger was real. Without hesitation, his fingers curled into a gun-like shape, and I could feel the shift in the air.

"Super Magic: Radiant Gun!"

His voice rang out, and before I could even think, the first blast of plasma shot in my direction. A ball about the size of a coin shot at me, firing at a blistering pace and with relentless precision.

"Pow!"

I didn't flinch. My body moved instinctively, not in haste, but with absolute control. The first blast passed me, barely missing by the width of a hair, its searing heat brushing against my skin. The second followed almost immediately.

"Pow!"

I shifted effortlessly to the side, the shot whizzing by with nothing but a faint hum in the air. The third blast came even faster, but again, my movements were fluid, composed—no panic, no hesitation.

"Pow!"

The third shot was gone before it could even reach me. I had already repositioned, my body calm, my mind clear. There was no danger here, just the careful execution of a plan. I was in complete control.

"My guess about his magic is correct... it's plasma!" I thought, narrowing my focus as the rapid-fire blasts came at me in a continuous stream. Left, right—dodge, pivot—each movement was instinctual, narrowly avoiding the searing heat as it cut through the air.

But I wasn't just on the defensive. I wasn't about to let Kai have free reign with his magic. Between each dodge, I threw my own counterattacks—swift strikes of sword ki aimed with precision, aimed to keep him on his toes. My sword flashed through the air, making him hesitate, just enough to throw off his rhythm.

The sounds of the battle intensified. Explosions echoed across the town, rattling the very ground beneath us. Each explosion sent shockwaves through the area, shaking buildings and sending debris flying. The masses, roused by the chaos, began to gather, cautiously watching from a distance as our battle unfolded.

But I didn't care about them.

There was a bigger fish to fry in this fight, and Kai was my immediate concern. As I weaved through his plasma attacks, my mind was set on him, my focus unwavering. I had no time for distractions. The larger scale of the battle—town forces slowly converging in the distance—didn't concern me.

Meanwhile, Vance was still engaged with Nyx. Their battle had devolved into a stalemate. Nyx, though heavily injured, was still holding his own, his ice magic allowing him to momentarily recover and withstand Vance's relentless assaults. Vance was making progress, but slowly—each time he landed a blow, Nyx would return it with equal ferocity, causing the damage to shift back and forth between them.

On top of that, Nyx's soldiers—his army—were still attacking us, launching their own offensive. But they were caught in the crossfire of our destructive battle, their attacks falling short as the environment around them became a deadly minefield. They didn't stand a chance, their efforts swallowed up by the chaos we were unleashing.

"Things are getting out of control," Viren muttered, rubbing his long, white beard as he observed the chaos unfolding. His eyes scanned the wreckage, the ruined battle airships, and the scattered bodies of fallen soldiers. His gaze then moved to the townspeople who had begun gathering, confused and afraid, some even cheering as the battle continued.

With a deep sigh, Viren turned to face the crowd, his voice booming to ensure that everyone could hear. He needed to reach them before the entire town was consumed by their misplaced loyalties.

"Look, everyone!" he called out, his voice commanding, drawing the attention of those nearby. "The church, the very institution you've trusted all your lives, is the one causing this destruction! This town that you hold sacred is being torn apart by them!" His eyes narrowed as he saw several people flinch. "And who is it that fights to defend it? A wizard from Fairy Tail, a stranger, someone who has no allegiance to this town or its people—he is the one risking his life for you!" His voice echoed in the air as he spread his arms, a gesture that seemed almost theatrical, but powerful in its intent. "And all this for a place you once believed to be under divine protection. Your so-called ruler, the one you've been following blindly, is now bringing judgment upon you. Can't you see the truth?"

Some townsfolk began murmuring, confused, but there were those who looked at him with suspicion, their faces hardening. One woman in the crowd scoffed loudly, crossing her arms.

"What is this old fool talking about?" she hissed under her breath, but loud enough for others to hear. "A wizard from Fairy Tail? He's probably here for a paycheck, not to 'save' us."

Viren didn't stop. He continued with even more intensity, his voice a bit colder now.

"Town's people, you believe in God, don't you?" he asked, his eyes sweeping across the crowd. "You say you have faith, but have you ever seen God? The Inquisitors you so fervently follow, those who claim to serve Him, don't even truly believe in His will!" Viren gestured toward the soldiers, some of them lying lifeless, their bodies a testament to the violence the church had perpetuated. "You trust them to protect you, to serve God's will—but look at the blood spilled. Look at the lives lost for a cause that isn't even just!" His tone turned bitter as he scowled.

His words hit a nerve, but they were met with resistance. A burly man in the crowd, his face twisted with disdain, stepped forward.

"You're nothing but a traitor, old man!" he shouted, his face reddened with fury. "How dare you talk about our faith like that? You think you know better than the Inquisitors? The church has given us everything, everything! And here you are, trying to turn us against them!"

A few others muttered their agreement, their faces hard with anger. One man clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking as he stepped forward, pointing a finger at Viren.

"You're nothing but a manipulator!" he spat. "All this chaos, all this destruction—it's your fault! You wizards don't belong here! You should've stayed out of it, let the Constabulary handle things. But no, you had to stick your noses in our business, and now look at this mess!"

"Yes!" another woman called out, her voice trembling with emotion. "This is the wizard's fault! It's their fault our town is in ruins. All we wanted was peace, but now we've got death and destruction!" Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, but they weren't for the fallen townspeople. They were tears of misplaced faith.

Viren let out a slow, measured sigh, his shoulders slumping slightly. He could feel the weight of their anger, their confusion, and the hopelessness of it all. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, a young girl—a devout church follower, from her attire—shouted from the back.

"You have no right to speak against the church!" she cried, her voice full of venom. "You're just a broken old man with no purpose but to stir trouble. If you think you can shake our faith, you're wrong! God will bring justice, not you!" She raised a fist to the sky, as if to challenge the heavens themselves.

Viren's gaze flickered toward the girl, but his face remained impassive. He spoke softly, but with an underlying edge to his words.

"How can you trust the words of those who have led you to this? If God is truly watching over you, why hasn't He intervened? Why hasn't He stopped the bloodshed? Can you not see the truth, the lies that have been fed to you?"

"You're a liar!" another voice rang out, this time a man who had been quietly observing. He stepped forward, his face red with rage. "You're trying to confuse us, to turn us against everything we've believed in. The church has always been here for us, and you—" he pointed directly at Viren, "—are just trying to destroy it! You're an enemy of everything we stand for!"

The crowd began to swell with shouts of indignation, the anger directed at Viren building to a boiling point. A man near the front, a heavily built fellow with a scar on his face, shoved his way through the crowd. He sneered at Viren, his lips curling into a malicious grin.

"You're full of pure bullshit, old man," he spat loudly, his voice dripping with disdain. "Everything you're saying is blasphemy! Don't you dare talk about the church that way! Do you even know what you're up against?!" His words cut through the crowd like a knife, and others began to murmur in agreement.

Viren's eyes narrowed, but he didn't falter. He knew the truth of his words, even if they weren't ready to accept it.

"Blasphemy? What's blasphemous is following blindly, letting those who claim to be holy destroy everything around you," he replied, his voice steady despite the growing tension. "Blasphemy is letting this town fall to ruin because you choose to worship false idols rather than facing reality!"

The crowd erupted into outrage, shouts of "blasphemy" and "traitor" filling the air. They were too far gone to hear him now, their faith too entrenched in the lies they had been fed. The anger, the confusion, the fear—they were all too much.

"These people are hopeless..." Viren muttered under his breath. He knew he couldn't sway them, not now. Their hearts and minds were too firmly locked in their beliefs. The truth was there, but it would never reach them.

As the voices grew louder, the tension in the air thickened, and Viren's heart sank. The battle was still raging around them, but the real fight was within these people. And it seemed that, for now, he was losing.

Viren knew he was at a precipice, a moment where words no longer held sway over these masses of blind zealotry. He didn't have the luxury of time to argue with them any longer. The flames of their anger, the fervor of their beliefs, were too intense to extinguish with reason. Their eyes, filled with a deep and poisonous faith, could not see beyond the walls they had built around their hearts.

With a heavy sigh, Viren's hand slowly drifted towards the wand at his side. His fingers, worn with age, wrapped around its smooth, familiar surface. There was no other choice. No other path. The chaos had to end, one way or another.

As the cries of the crowd continued to swirl around him, he muttered to himself, words no one else could understand—an ancient incantation that only he, through years of study and mastery, could grasp. The air seemed to thicken, swirling with the weight of unspoken power. His voice, low and resonant, became a whisper against the wind, a murmur meant for none but the elements themselves.

"Omnis defensio… esse in astris…"

His voice flowed like a river of forgotten knowledge, the words coating the air with a sense of inevitability, as if the very fabric of reality bent to his will. His grip tightened around the wand, and a soft glow began to pulse at its tip, radiating a pale blue light that flickered like a dying star on the verge of its final collapse.

The ground beneath his feet seemed to hum with the magic he summoned, trembling with the weight of his intentions. Every word he spoke, every syllable he uttered, carried the weight of centuries of accumulated knowledge. The winds shifted, responding to his call, bending to his will as the air itself became charged with his magic.

"The stars themselves shall protect thee…" he whispered, his eyes narrowing, darkened by the shadows of the coming storm.

The crowd's cries grew louder, more chaotic, as they hurled insults and curses at him. Yet, Viren stood still, unmoving, his face a mask of solemn determination. The world around him seemed to blur as his mind sank deeper into the trance of the incantation. His thoughts became as one with the magic, and the ancient words seemed to resonate within his very soul.

But the battle raged on, indifferent to his actions. The crackle of magic in the air mixed with the sounds of distant explosions, the clash of swords, and the desperate shouts of soldiers. Each moment stretched into eternity, as the forces of fate themselves held their breath, watching the wizard who dared to speak truth to power.

His magic was a last resort, a final gesture of defiance, and perhaps, the only thing that could turn the tide. But the question remained—would it be enough to break through the blind conviction of the crowd? Would his final words, his last stand, make any difference at all?

The answer was unclear, shrouded in the mists of fate. And so, with a heavy heart and a voice that trembled slightly with the weight of all he had seen, Viren finished his chant.

"Aeternum custodia…"

And as the final syllables left his lips, the air exploded with energy, and the very earth beneath his feet seemed to shift. The power he had summoned, vast and unyielding, began to spread, as though the universe itself was stirring at his command. But in this moment, in the storm of magic and rage, he could only wait, his eyes locked on the horizon, where the next chapter of this battle would unfold.

'This battle is slowly becoming unfavorable for us,' Kai thought to himself. Although he could fire his Radiant Gun endlessly as long as he had magic power, it was pointless. His opponent could dodge every shot with ease, and on top of that, his brother was locked in a stalemate against Nyx. If this continued, they would be killed, and their goal would never be realized.

Kai stopped firing plasma bullets at Suigetsu and retreated several meters away from him, calling for his brother.

"Vance!"

Vance, who had been trading blows with Nyx, took a step back. Though Nyx was injured, his magic power and battle experience far surpassed Vance's. The battle had always ended in a tie. Hearing his brother's call, Vance paused, then retreated to a safer distance.

"Come here..." Kai said with a gentle smile. He didn't say anything else, but Vance seemed to understand. Without a word, Vance rushed to his brother and grabbed his hand.

"Vance, the situation has become extremely unfavorable for us," Kai said, his voice low but filled with urgency. "I don't see any chance of winning. After all, he's strong too." He pointed toward Suigetsu. "If we're defeated, our dream won't be realized..."

"...Brother," Vance didn't say anything more. His expression was one of concern, a look of affection that seemed out of place coming from a killer. The words didn't need to be spoken.

"Let's do it…" The two brothers shared a quiet moment, their foreheads touching, hands tightly wrapped around each other. "We, brothers, will always be together. I'll protect you, and you'll protect me. Our bond won't be severed by anyone—no fate, not even the gods themselves!"

As they spoke, a massive surge of magic power coursed through their bodies. Wizards who could sense magical energy immediately noticed the overwhelming force. The one most familiar with the sensation was Suigetsu. 'This feeling! Not good… they're planning to commit suicide and take everyone down with them!' he thought, just as Viren, who had been rushing to his position, landed close to him.

"Young lad..." Viren said, his voice filled with urgency. He held his staff, which gleamed with magical power. "Lend me your magic power."

Suigetsu didn't question him. Without hesitation, he nodded and extended his left hand toward the staff, channeling his magic into it.