Chapter 652 Harmony That Cuts — The Second Activation of Excalibur

The sky above Stones has lost its color.

After the destruction of magic and the emergence of the spirits of harmony, only a thick gray light remains—a place where all possibilities mix and choose no direction.

In the midst of it all, Fitran and Rinoa stand side by side.

The tension in the air is palpable, as if every breath weighs heavily on the atmosphere. A powerful vibration of energy surrounds them, as if calling for the attention of the entire world, which lies in chaos beneath them.

On one side, Fitran grips Excalibur—now shining not just with light, but with the memories of the world.

On the other side, Rinoa stands as the Avatar of Harmony, with three spirits swirling around her, maintaining the rhythm of battle. A soft voice, like a whisper of the wind, brushes against her ear, urging Rinoa to give her all and protect everyone they love.

And across from them, Althur steps forward slowly.

Althur no longer speaks in words. He communicates through active magical structures.

Crown of Final Law — a wave of magic that resets the fundamental laws of combat: "Only the throne can cut."

As this spell is uttered, a magical vibration shakes the ground, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for the impending disaster.

Severance Spiral — a magic that severs the roots of will, breaking the harmony among spirits.

When the spiral appears, a dark light radiates uncertainty, and Rinoa's heart races, as if feeling the pulse of emptiness trying to disrupt the bond of love between each spirit.

Annullum Vitae — direct manipulation of existence, disrupting the connection between body and soul within a hundred-meter radius.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rinoa sees shadows beginning to fade, like small smiles evaporating under the influence of that dark magic, urging all existence to fight for life and love.

Fitran deflects it with the Voidlight Barrier.

Rinoa calls upon Luvenia to envelop the ground with water that can absorb structural magic. As the water gathers, Rinoa feels a surge of emotions burning within her—anxiety, hope, and a sense of responsibility to protect the weak. She knows that even the smallest mistake could be fatal.

But the pressure continues to mount. Each of them can feel the intimidating weight of darkness, as if the creature is trying to absorb the light of hope they possess.

"He's not trying to kill us," Rinoa says, her breath heavy, her voice strained with tension. She feels her heartbeat quicken, remembering everything at stake.

"He's trying to nullify our reason for fighting."

Fitran prepares with Form Three of Excalibur: Crescenda Luminis.

A full slash of light carves half the sky, cutting through the Severance Spiral and burning part of the Crown of Final Law. In his heart, he prays that the light is enough to drive away the creeping darkness. Every movement feels like a part of a greater destiny, as if the forces of the universe are on his side.

However… Excalibur begins to tremble. Not due to a mismatch of magic, but because something is calling to it. A silent voice within Fitran warns him of a lurking threat at the end of the path, waiting for the moment to pounce. He feels the bond between himself and the sword growing stronger, as if their energies are merging into one.

From Althur's hand, a piece of blood symbol is activated. A wave of energy surges forth, and the room fills with a mysterious aura that envelops every corner.

"That sword was not just forged from my blood.

It is sealed within my timeline.

And now… I call you back." Each of Althur's words carries a magical vibration that captivates, as if stripping the soul bare and awakening long-buried power.

Rinoa senses the direction of Althur's magic. In her heart, she absorbs the gnawing feeling of unease, as if every heartbeat is connected to the gathering power. The understanding that failure could have fatal consequences strikes hard in her mind.

"FITRAN—LET GO OF THE SWORD!"

Too late.

The light from the heart of Excalibur bursts forth.

A wave of ancestral will snakes from the ground to the sky, then comes crashing down… pulling the sword from Fitran's hand. A chill fills the air, and Rinoa feels the presence of spirits seeking justice for the betrayal that has occurred. Every second feels like a century, with each silence growing more tense.

In an instant, Excalibur hovers, shimmering with a terrifying and challenging aura.

"No…" Fitran murmurs, his voice trembling with disbelief.

"Not like this…"

And Excalibur, with a holy light that is no longer gentle…

flies into Althur's hand. A roar of magical energy fills the space, as if an ancient song is being replayed, signaling the awakening of dormant power ready to combat the darkness. Rinoa feels the spirits of the ancestors vibrating in the rhythm of her heartbeat, urging her to act, to not just be a spectator in this thrilling battle.

As Althur grasps it, the world changes. The wave of energy flowing through Excalibur seems to connect unseen dimensions, causing everything around it to tremble in unspoken fear and hope. Dark clouds gather, and flashes of lightning dance in the night sky, as if the universe is responding to the call of the newly awakened power.

All of Rinoa's spirits are pushed back, trapped in uncertainty, with anxious feelings gnawing at their souls. They feel the immense pressure of the change unfolding before their eyes, as if time itself has come to a halt.

The circle of harmony partially shatters, producing a sound like thousands of glass cups cracking. The fragmentation of beauty leaves sorrow in the hearts of those still trying to hold onto old memories.

The Tree of Scars… stops beating. Its heartbeat, once a beacon of hope for many souls, now ceases, signaling that something greater than just a battle is taking place.

"I have returned," Althur declares, his voice echoing like thunder in the midst of a storm.

"And with this sword… I will accomplish what the kings never could: to shape a world that needs no redemption."

The explosion of energy from the activation of Excalibur sends Fitran flying to the far end of the ruins of Stones. Blood flows from his forehead, splattering a contrasting red against the gray ashes of the ruins. But it is not just his body that is injured—his resolve is shaken. Dark thoughts crush his conviction; has all his struggle been in vain? He feels as if he has been betrayed by the very power he once believed could lead him to victory.

"I… have failed…" His voice is barely audible, like morning dew swept away by the wind.

Yet the battle in his heart still rages, even as hope begins to fade.

Rinoa runs toward him, each step filled with tension and despair, seeking to extend a helping hand.

But behind them, Althur raises Excalibur high, and a single vertical line of light begins to cut through the air. The light rushes forward with terrifying speed, signaling an imminent end for those standing in its path. That moment feels like an unavoidable conclusion, as all hope seems to teeter on the edge of darkness.

In the deepening darkness, thunder rumbles, adding to the tension in the air and marking the beginning of the final battle. Every heart beats rapidly, as if sensing the presence of an unseen power. And Excalibur—now in Althur's hands—shines not as a symbol of hope, but as a sword that has chosen its throne.

ꦱꦸꦩ꧀ꦧꦼꦏꦼꦁꦲꦺꦴꦱꦺꦴꦁꦲꦺꦴꦫꦏ꧀ꦏꦺꦴꦤ꧀ꦤꦸ —

SumbeKeng Hosong Eorak Konnu

(When the sword chooses power… the world stops asking.)