Vaelith froze.
The confidence that once filled his heart felt as if it were slowly draining away the moment he saw the crimson lava rising.
Azerion mocked him calmly, his voice almost gentle.
"So, Vaelith… you've realized by now that you won't escape this terrifying attack of mine, haven't you? If you have any last words to say before your death, feel free to speak."
Vaelith said nothing.
His gaze remained fixed on the lava.
It surged from deep cracks in the earth, drawn upward as if pulled by a magnetic force like molten iron being irresistibly dragged toward a powerful magnet. From countless deep fissures, streams of lava twisted together like thick ropes, as though they were alive, ready to coil around anything they touched, melt it down, crush it, and erase its very existence.
Lost in those thoughts, Vaelith's eyes suddenly fell upon Lyanna.
She was staring directly at him.
Vaelith immediately looked away and spoke silently to himself.
No… this isn't how it ends.
I've survived risks my entire life times when living itself had no meaning, when all that kept me alive were unanswered questions.
He looked at Lyanna once more, then whispered to himself again
I have to do this.
Vaelith turned his gaze toward Azerion.
Azerion was already watching him. There was something in his eyes almost pity as if he were sorrowful over Vaelith's helpless state.
But who would ever understand?
Vaelith's purpose changed completely.
In the blink of an eye, Azerion lost sight of him.
The next instant
Vaelith appeared behind Azerion, moving at the farthest limit of lightning speed, and wrapped his arms tightly around him from behind.
Azerion was utterly shocked.
Lyanna stared as well, stunned by Vaelith's sudden action.
Before anyone could react
Vaelith released a massive burst of lightning from his body, an explosive flash that tore through the space around them.
The light was so intense that Lyanna had to shield her eyes , she couldn't even look directly at it.
I have to do this… Vaelith told himself.
I might die… or I might survive. I don't know.
But I've never been pushed to such a desperate edge before forced to choose such a terrifying method just to stay alive.
He remembered the words spoken by that unknown voice within his dream.
Only use this technique when there is absolutely no other choice, the voice had warned.
Because this stands on the boundary between life and death.
Pull your enemy as close to you as possible.
Lock them tightly against your body.
Then, at the very end, release every drop of your mystic power stored within your body all at once.
The result will be a violent explosion.
If executed perfectly, this gives you the highest chance of killing your enemy in a single moment.
Even if your enemy is far stronger, a sudden, close range attack like this can catch them completely off guard , leaving them critically wounded and unable to counterattack.
However…
This technique also places an enormous burden on your own body.
If your body is well trained or exceptionally strong, you might survive with severe injuries.
But if your body is ordinary… then death is inevitable.
That is why this technique is known as a method that exists between life and death.
…
Azerion never had time to understand what was happening.
He never imagined that Vaelith would risk his own life.
After the explosion, Vaelith did not collapse away from Azerion
Instead, he fell directly on top of him.
The force of the blast tore Vaelith's clothes apart. Blood poured from his mouth. His chest and back were shredded with deep gashes and burns. He struggled violently for breath.
Slowly, painfully, Vaelith looked down at Azerion beneath him.
Despite Azerion's overwhelming power, his condition was now critical so fragile that even another minor attack could end his life.
Azerion lay motionless on the ground, unconscious.
OTHERSIDE...
Sylvara and Rosielle circled each other, their eyes sharp, locked in mutual tension.
Rosielle broke the silence first, speaking casually
"Yes, I know I'm beautiful. But is now really the time to stare at me like that? Shouldn't you be getting ready to fight… or are you just captivated by my beauty?"
Before Rosielle could continue her playful remarks, Ignara cut in coldly
"So arrogant…
And that arrogance will be the reason for your downfall.
Go on ..don't worry. I won't interfere. Yes, you're very powerful. I'm absolutely terrified."
Sylvara looked at Rosielle with an eerie calm and asked
"Then why don't you kill me?"
Rosielle, who had never truly felt fear before, suddenly felt a strange unease creep into her heart at the way Sylvara spoke.
Sylvara
A girl who appeared gentle and beautiful on the surface..
And Rosielle
Always smiling sweetly, graceful and charming, yet hiding the power to trap and crush anyone if she wished.
They stared at each other.
Sylvara spoke softly.
"Sylvara Eryndis."
Rosielle replied simply
"Rosielle."
And in the very next moment, both prepared to attack.
Just as Rosielle began forming hand signs, she suddenly felt something tighten around her body.
Her gaze dropped instantly.
Thin, smooth, iron hard vines wrapped around her legs, rapidly coiling upward. The vines were sharp, reinforced with thorns like blades.
Wherever they touched her skin, blood began to spill.
Rosielle couldn't understand what was happening.
She screamed in pain and looked upward...
And there it was.
A horrifying smile spread across Sylvara's face....
....