War Versus Void

As Cassia and Sunny were carried away by Hemera, Klaus and Mordret suddenly stopped fighting. Their gazes met, and then, inexplicably, they laughed.

Mordret wiped a tear from his eye, shaking his head in amusement. "You paranoid mongrel... Just how deep do your trust issues run? You didn't even use your real style against me."

Klaus shrugged, a lazy smirk playing on his lips. His amethyst eyes gleamed with mischief. "Well, now that our little shadow isn't Eavesdropping... I won't hold back. But tell me, what exactly are you hoping to accomplish, you discount son?"

Mordret's smirk faded, replaced by something cold and dark. The playful glint in his eyes vanished, leaving only a chilling murderous intent. "Am I now? No, I don't think so. I'm not some failure of a child..." He sighed, exasperated. "You never take anything seriously. That's why I hate talking to you. Gods, I wish you never came. Even if Cormac were here, that'd be better. At least I wouldn't be this annoyed."

Klaus blinked, tilting his head, his smirk widening. "You know who else wishes they never came? Your dad."

Mordret furrowed his brows, momentarily confused—until realization hit him like a brick wall. His eyes widened in disbelief. "...Even your insults are evolving."

Klaus spread his arms arrogantly, his spear, Satan, vanishing in a whirlwind of white sparks. "I don't even use memories for these. No tricks. You have a Master's body? Well, allow me to enlighten you—you stand no chance against me. So cherish the breath in your lungs... it will be your last."

Then, in an instant, Klaus disappeared—only to reappear behind Mordret. His fist, glowing with amethyst light, struck Mordret's abdomen with bone-shattering force. Mordret groaned, but before he could react, the stored kinetic energy within Klaus's fist surged into his body. A heartbeat later, he was blasted backward like a ragdoll, his body crashing through the air.

Gritting his teeth, Mordret forced himself up, saber in hand. He dashed forward, blade aimed to carve through Klaus's neck—but his weapon met only empty air. The blade passed through Klaus like he was a ghost.

Mordret's eyes widened. "...Huh?"

Klaus stepped through him like mist, seizing him from behind and yanking him off balance. Then, with a flick of his wrist, Klaus punched the air.

Cracks splintered through the atmosphere. A deafening shockwave erupted, hurtling Mordret backward, slamming into a crumbling wall with a sickening thud.

Before he could recover, Klaus was upon him again. Grabbing him by the head, he dragged Mordret through the remains of buildings, smashing him through debris like a wrecking ball.

Klaus laughed darkly, eyes gleaming with twisted glee. "You are nothing! Just a pathetic reflection of my strength! Have you realized yet how laughably impotent you are against me?!"

Mordret barely had a moment to breathe before Klaus buried a fist in his gut, kinetic energy launching him into the sky like a badly thrown javelin. Klaus lazily raised his finger like a gun, a swirling crimson sphere forming at his fingertip.

"Bang."

The crimson sphere shot toward Mordret. At the last second, Mordret twisted his battered body mid-air, narrowly avoiding it. He smirked—until he saw the grin on Klaus's face.

Something was wrong.

Was Klaus... throwing a rock at him?

Mordret's smirk faltered. Wait. Why hadn't Shiva detonated? And why did he suddenly feel—

He was still airborne, nearing the ground—but then something changed. The sensation of falling shifted. He wasn't descending anymore. He was higher in the air now, not closer to the ground. His surroundings blurred, twisted—and in an instant, he had switched places with the rock.

And now, Shiva was right in front of him.

Klaus beamed. "You fucking imbecile."

The crimson sphere exploded in a blinding flash. When the smoke cleared, Mordret's body crashed to the ground, barely recognizable. But Master's bodies were durable. And, since Klaus's essence was still that of an Awakened, and he hadn't poured much power into Shiva, the destruction wasn't total.

Klaus strolled toward him, casually stepping on his face before pressing down harder. "I'd say you put up a good fight, but I don't lie to my victims."

A cruel smile curled his lips as he crouched, gripping Mordret's arms. Then, Mordret felt it—the trembling in his bones. A deep, unbearable pressure that grew stronger and stronger, until it felt as if his very flesh was being ravaged by an earthquake. With a grotesque, wet crack, his arms burst into fragments of blood and bone.

Mordret lay armless, half-dead. And yet… he was still grinning. "You bastard... Just how far have you developed your abilities...?" Mordret coughed, blood trickling from his lips. "Truly, Icarus—ahh, no, Klaus now. I'm in awe. Only someone as stubborn and obsessive as you could squeeze every last drop of potential from their Aspect... How admirable. How inspiring…" He chuckled weakly. "Ambitious, huh? You didn't waste time... What a battle this was."

Klaus rolled his eyes, though his smirk widened. "You flatter me, really. But let's be real—this wasn't a fight. This was an execution."

With a flick of his wrist, an amethyst sphere formed in his palm. Then, with a final grin, he let it drop.

The explosion that followed consumed the ruined temple in a brilliant sphere of light. And then, as if devouring itself, the sphere began to shrink—collapsing inward like a black hole, swallowing everything in its wake.

Including Mordret.

Klaus stared at the massive crater, his expression darkening. He knew Mordret was still alive. That stubborn bastard was hard to kill. But what could he do about it? He didn't have the time to level the entire temple and erase every last reflection in the area. If he could, he'd drag Mordret into his soul sea—there, the fight wouldn't even be a contest. Mordret wouldn't be able to run. He wouldn't even be able to struggle.

But Klaus didn't have that luxury. Not with Cormac possibly on the way. If the Saint showed up… well, that would be a problem. A massive, terrifying problem. Fighting Cormac wasn't an option. Not now. Not yet.

Shaking his head, Klaus vanished from the air, reappearing in an instant on the edge of the island. Below him, the flying ship hovered, its deck filled with familiar faces—Fire Keepers, Effie, Kai, Cassia, and Sunny. It had worked. He had made it in time.

But he was drained. Even with his mastery over his abilities, his Awakened cores simply couldn't keep up. He was burning through essence too fast. His skills demanded more than his body could supply. Out of the four cores he had, only one remained filled with essence. The others were spent, leaving him teetering on the edge of exhaustion.

"Well… whatever," Klaus muttered to himself, exhaling sharply. "Once I become a Master, this problem solves itself. No doubt—"

A voice cut through the air behind him, seething with rage and bloodlust.

"No. You won't live long enough to become a Master."

Klaus felt a cold shiver crawl down his spine. His body tensed instinctively, every survival instinct screaming at him. Slowly, he turned his head, forcing a smirk onto his face despite the sinking feeling in his gut.

"Ah... So this is the part where I realize I've royally screwed up, huh?"