Cosmo wiped the blood that trickled down his cheek while his uniform visibly rippled in response to the damage that lay underneath.
The spire likewise repaired the broken chunks of its body, growing new fibers to replace what had been lost.
It had no reason to pause as they did, since it could not tire. Yet there was something both of them needed to momentarily get off their chests.
"The one that's here right now, its current blueprint. It's 'that' you, isn't it?" Cosmo began, "The you I allowed–or rather–would have allowed to leave. The one I would give up on while thinking it was for the best."
The spire hunched over, preparing to tear toward him once again.
Since he had already proven his awareness of its circumstances, the only conversation they needed to have through words had already ended.
"I have to say, even though my current self technically isn't the one who nurtured you, I'm still proud," he continued, tapping the side of his head. "It's taking everything I have to outpace your precognition, and that's not something a mere plant could manage. That's how I began to suspect there was more at play than I could see."
Tyson was utterly baffled by the words Cosmo was spewing.
Nothing he said to the spire from beginning to end made sense, yet when Tyson looked at the creature, it seemed to grasp every word.
"I wonder how old you are now. For you to act so ruthlessly toward your former Captain–" An amused smirk crossed his lips.
I really hate you.
"–Tell me, do you still hate me?"
BTOOM!
The water around their ankles dispersed as it zoomed toward him.
It struck with its hand as if to cleave him in two, but he guarded in time with the hardened fabric on his forearms. Still, he couldn't offset the inertia of the collision.
Tyson felt a wave of force rush past him, which he lunged after in frustration.
A relentless sequence of attacks flew toward Cosmo, demanding severe mental control to dodge and counter.
Nevertheless, he held his ground against the ever‑shifting patterns the spire employed.
Of course, its current manifestation was what it deemed most suited to battle him, yet it made sure to exploit its malleable nature to prevent him from adapting.
It struck at any opening the human left, each blow promising lethality. Moreover, Cosmo could still see a hint of refinement in its movements, a technique only reasonable for a trained fighter.
How infuriating.
He thought this as he allowed a dangerous kick to be caught by his left shoulder.
Pushing through the strain, he folded his right palm and struck its center, transferring a reinforced blow tuned to ignore defense. It broke the creature in the gut and sent it flying upward.
It tried to recover midair, but the momentum hurled it toward the blond boy, who had created a net of flaming chains that caught it just in time.
Then the boy dragged it back toward the ground without wasting a moment as the flames engulfed its body.
Even if they were on fire, Red still had complete control over his creations, and unlike the spire, they wouldn't burn from the intensity.
KKRRRREEEE!!!
It was the first time they heard anything remotely resembling a voice from it, but the cry was immediately followed by Red's chains shattering under its brute force.
"Sink in and ignite, Dragon Claw!"
Without hesitation, Tyson was already intercepting its fall.
His fingers latched onto it and refused to release, before triggering an ignition that blew apart its shell.
After another shriek, its arm brutally struck Tyson's chest in an attempt to shove him away, then it retreated from the chains entirely.
At that moment, both Red and Cosmo arrived at the same conclusion.
The spire would obviously have crafted this avatar with flame resistance in mind, and sure enough, Tyson's pure flames were not what harmed it. It was primarily the sheer force of his explosions that damaged it.
Yet both times Tyson managed to get close, it abruptly abandoned its objective in favor of retreat.
Due to his covenant, Tyson's flames couldn't spread far, and their longevity was tied to his cognitivity. This meant that even with plant‑based abilities, there was little reason to fear the red‑haired boy's ability more than any of theirs.
This could only mean one thing.
For some inexplicable reason–
It's afraid of Tyson's flames.
Whether ingrained or yet to be revealed, the spire seemed to lose its nerve at the signature of Tyson's authority.
And the moment Cosmo's eyes met Red's, and they confirmed their shared hypothesis, a shift arose in the plan.
…
The moment she flew close enough to the formation of petals, her hand raised high, and a massive, towering blade grew from the surface below.
Then, as she swiped her hand across her sightline, the blade cleaved an opening through the fabric.
In response, several thick trunks burst from the ground to impale her.
"Cascade!"
A swift blade tore them apart in rapid succession, leaving her path wide open.
"You go ahead! I can't tell you why, but I'm sure it has no influence beyond this point," he assured her as he landed before the formation, "I'll make sure nothing comes after you."
"Thank you, Yon," she nodded and leapt through the opening, leaving her flank to him.
The moment she was out of sight, he scoffed at himself.
The first chance he got, he had apologized to her profusely for his inaction on the night the spire took her, yet all she said in return was that she didn't remember a thing.
Regardless, she still told him he had nothing to apologize for.
Of course, he rejected that notion and continued to blame himself anyway, but he knew that even if she remembered, she still wouldn't hold a grudge. That was simply the kind of person she was. A dangerously kind girl who made it too easy to move forward.
Even as much as he wanted to dwell on that moment, the ease with which she dismissed it made it hard to keep hating himself for it. In fact, it began to make him feel childish.
"Gryaaah!"
He sliced through a multitude of overgrowths that tried to overwhelm him, taking the initiative to cut them short before they could grow again.
Then he saw dozens of fruits falling around him.
"This?" His face took on a confident mask as he prepared.
He had heard of this attack from the others. Those fruits would explode like grenades and launch incredibly fast bullet‑seeds at him.
He had fully prepared to handle such an attack, so he waited for the moment.
However, when the fruits exploded, what emerged instead were red clouds of smoke that made him cough repeatedly.
Then, as he waved the smoke from his sight, he suddenly felt a sharp pain through his gut, prompting him to look down and see blood escaping from it.
Something had pierced him faster than his scales could intercept, and he would soon see the source.
"There's one more thing you should be careful of. From the way the zone was created to how much it could replicate authorities and people using only pure potential energy, it seems capable of vividly extracting memory as well. I managed to remove its remnants from each of you before things got bad, but I have a feeling that if any part of that spire, even a speck, makes contact with your brain, it might be able to access certain memory fragments, just like it's doing to her."
It was an absurd sight.
Black hair falling loosely over his face, a lean and slightly rugged build, and in his hand, pointed at Yonar, his signature weapon, his silent killer.
Yon's sword nearly slipped from his grasp at the unexpected reunion.
"Z‑Zatch…"