Chapter 417 — Pages, Fractures and Bad Ideas
Clara stretched her shoulders slightly, her blue aura vibrating like an engine too powerful for its own frame.
— *Looks like things are about to get serious… right, Ves?*
In her head, Vespera's voice answered, calm, almost weary:
— *I'll handle the spells for you.*
Clara shrugged.
— *Doesn't matter, I don't know how to do that anyway. Me, I hit… and it works.*
Silence.
Then Vespera sighed inwardly:
— *…What a waste. She has an absurd amount of mana… and she uses it like a hammer.*
Azraël, meanwhile… smiled.
His aura had vanished.
Not weakened.
Suppressed.
As if it had never existed.
He ignored his severed arm completely, as if it were an administrative detail.
Then he produced a book.
A simple book.
But Clara immediately felt it wasn't normal.
Azraël slowly opened the tome.
— *See this book?*
He placed his finger on a page.
— *Imagine each page… is an infinite universe.*
He turned a page.
— *And me… I'm here.*
Another page.
— *And you… there.*
He closed the book gently.
— *To reach me… your attack must pass through every layer.*
He fixed her with a smile, almost pedagogical.
— *Even if your speed is infinite… you won't reach the first page.*
A silence.
— *At best… you'll reach the second.*
He took a step.
— *I can be two meters from you…*
Pause.
— *…while being a thousand pages away.*
Clara blinked.
— *…*
Then she looked inward at Vespera.
— *Ves… was that a lecture or is he just trying to confuse me?*
— *Both.*
Azraël raised his hand.
And reality… shattered.
Not exploded.
Not destroyed.
Fragmented.
Like a mirror smashed against the floor.
Thousands of shards floated around them.
And in each shard… something appeared.
Clara looked around.
One fragment showed a ruined desert.
Another, a futuristic city collapsing.
Another still… a memory.
Her. Younger. Laughing.
She frowned.
— *…What the hell is this?*
Vespera murmured:
— *These are fragmented dimensions. Each shard… is an independent reality.*
Another shard passed before Clara.
She saw Azraël.
But not the one in front of her.
Another. Younger.
Slaughtering an entire army.
Another shard.
Azraël sitting, reading calmly.
Another.
Azraël… dead.
Clara blinked.
— *Okay… I don't like this thing.*
Azraël's voice resonated.
Everywhere.
— *What do you do… when each shard becomes a dimension?*
A silence.
— *When every direction is a universe?*
Suddenly.
A movement.
A streak.
Absurd speed.
— *He's there!* Vespera shouted.
**BOOM.**
Azraël's fist struck.
Clara crossed her arms.
The impact echoed through the Sanctuary.
The floor cracked.
The air exploded.
She was hurled backward.
But she remained standing.
— *Not bad…* Clara growled.
She swept the air with a gesture.
Blue slashes tore through space.
Azraël dodged.
The cuts continued.
They sliced through the shards.
Entire fragments of reality were severed.
Clara vanished.
Reappeared before him.
A punch.
Charged with mana.
— *Take this.*
**STOP.**
The blow halted.
Blocked.
Not by Azraël.
By… space itself.
Clara forced forward.
The mana veins on her arm burst with light.
— *Come on… COME ON!*
Azraël bent down.
Calm.
And—
**BAM.**
A kick to the stomach.
Clara was sent flying back.
She slid.
Stopped herself with her hand.
The ground tore apart for several meters.
She raised her head.
Smiled.
— *Okay… now it's getting interesting.*
She extended her hand.
Mana condensed.
A sphere.
Blue.
Dense.
Too dense.
The air around began to warp.
The shards of reality vibrated.
Vespera panicked slightly:
— *Clara… be careful—*
— *Don't worry, Ves.*
Clara smiled.
A dangerous smile.
— *This time…*
She pointed the sphere at Azraël.
— *…I won't try to go through his pages.*
A pause.
Her aura exploded.
— *I'll burn the entire book.*
In the distance, Brakk watched the scene.
— *…*
He took a deep breath.
— *Okay. So now she's going to blow up universes.*
He turned to Bloodweaver.
— *Is this normal here or did I miss an episode?*
Bloodweaver shrugged.
— *No. This is clearly off-script.*
Azraël, meanwhile… smiled.
Even wider.
— *Perfect.*
He raised his hand.
— *Show me…*
The shards around them began to spin.
— *…how far your absurdity goes.*
And the blue sphere… grew larger still.
As if it refused to obey the laws of size.
Or of reason.
Chapter 418 — Burning the Book
Clara burst out laughing.
— *Hahaha… watch closely, Ves… I'm going to make it all disappear.*
The blue sphere in her hand swelled before their eyes.
It was no longer a simple attack.
It was a catastrophe in formation.
— *The fight is over for you.*
Azraël watched.
Even he… was slightly surprised.
— *…What madness.*
Then he smiled.
— *No matter what you do, you won't reach me.*
His voice was calm. Almost amused.
— *I am protected by infinite layers of space. Each separated by a distance you cannot cross.*
Clara tilted her head.
— *Don't worry about that.*
She clenched her fist.
Her aura exploded.
— *I told you…*
The sphere pulsed.
— *…I'm going to burn the whole book at once.*
In the distance, Mister Mind raised his head slightly.
— *Mira. Cover Brakk.*
— *Huh?!* Brakk protested. *Wait, she's really going to—*
TOO LATE.
Mira instantly transformed, enveloping Brakk like an organic bubble.
— *This is insane!!* he shouted from inside. *She's going to wreck everything!!*
And then—
**BOOOOOOOOM.**
The blue explosion swallowed everything.
Not a normal explosion.
An annihilation.
The shards of reality were vaporized.
The fragmented dimensions vanished.
Even Azraël's layers of space…
began to give way.
One by one.
Azraël increased the number of layers.
Again.
Again.
Again.
— *Interesting…*
But the attack continued.
It advanced.
It burned.
It consumed.
Vespera, inside Clara's mind:
— *You went too far. Seriously.*
Clara smiled.
— *Don't worry. That was nothing.*
The explosion slowly dissipated.
A heavy silence fell.
Then—
A body was hurled.
Azraël slid across the floor, one hand planted to stabilize himself.
His body smoked.
Clara blinked.
— *Oh. He survived?*
Azraël lifted his head.
And smiled.
— *That was… incredibly powerful.*
He examined his state.
— *It's the first time…*
Pause.
— *…that I've ended up like this.*
Clara didn't answer.
She propelled mana beneath her feet.
**BOOM.**
The ground exploded.
Reality cracked along her path.
She appeared before him.
— *I think this is the end for you.*
Azraël smiled.
Again.
Always.
Clara placed her hand on the hilt of her blade.
Her aura covered the entire weapon.
— *It's over.*
She vanished.
Blue slashes tore through Azraël.
Clean.
Precise.
Violent.
She reappeared.
Pointed her finger.
— *It's over for you.*
Another blue sphere formed.
Vespera sighed.
— *You're spamming the same technique.*
Clara shrugged.
— *It's effective. That's all that matters.*
Suddenly.
A shiver.
A chill.
A pressure.
Clara froze.
— *…*
Something was behind her.
An aura.
Gloomy.
Ancient.
Heavy.
Arms appeared.
Out of nowhere.
A creature.
Deformed.
Terrifying.
Like something born from a nightmare.
Footsteps echoed.
Calm.
Clara turned her head slightly.
Her eyes widened.
— *…*
Azraël.
Standing.
Behind her.
Perfectly intact.
He gently placed his hand on her hair.
A tranquil smile.
— *You're doing well.*
Clara stared at him.
— *…How?*
Azraël tapped his temple.
— *I decided…*
Pause.
— *…that all of this was just a bad dream.*
Silence.
Brakk, still trapped inside Mira:
— *…Wait. Wait wait wait.*
He blinked.
— *Did he just say he canceled reality because he didn't like it?*
Bloodweaver, arms crossed:
— *Yes.*
— *And the worst part… is that it works.*
Azraël raised his hand slightly.
The creature behind Clara moved.
Its arms twisted.
Space trembled.
— *See this?*
His smile widened.
— *This… comes from my world of dreams.*
Clara stayed silent for a moment.
Then—
she smiled.
Slowly.
Dangerously.
— *…Okay.*
She turned fully toward him.
Her aura began to rise again.
— *Now… it's getting REALLY interesting.*
Chapter 419 — The Well and the Nightmare
Clara did not back down.
Blue streaks ran across her body like luminous cracks, pulsing with the rhythm of her mana.
A slow, almost dangerous smile stretched across her face.
— *Finally…* she murmured. *Now it's getting interesting.*
Azraël pointed at her, his smile full of superiority.
— *Did you naively think you could defeat me so easily? I, Azraël… the Master of Reflections.*
Clara tilted her head slightly.
— *Master of reflections… dreams… or whatever else.*
She chuckled.
— *If you managed to turn reality into a dream…*
Her eyes gleamed.
— *…then know that I…*
Her aura flared.
— *…will be the nightmare.*
Azraël raised his hand.
— *We'll see about that.*
Suddenly—
Hands surged behind Clara.
They grabbed her.
Dozens.
No…
Hundreds.
Azraël spread his arms.
— *I present to you your worst nightmare.*
Space warped.
A shapeless mass appeared.
A thing…
Without fixed form.
Breathing.
Vibrating.
Absorbing.
— *Abyssos — The Well of Intention.*
The creature began to pulse.
Clara felt her mana being drained.
But not only that.
Something deeper.
Azraël crossed his arms.
— *This thing absorbs will. The more mana you release…*
He smiled.
— *…the stronger it becomes.*
Clara felt the pressure.
Her body pulled.
Her spirit pulled.
Her will… attacked.
Azraël, satisfied:
— *This time… it's over for you.*
Silence.
Then—
Clara burst out laughing.
— *Oh?*
She lifted her head slightly despite the hands holding her.
— *You want to drain me?*
Her smile widened.
— *Bad idea.*
Vespera, in her mind:
— *It doesn't just want your mana. It wants to break you. Make you give up.*
Clara answered inwardly:
— *Too late for that.*
She inhaled.
Then—
She released everything.
**BOOOOOOM.**
A torrent of mana exploded.
Raw.
Violent.
Uncontrollable.
Azraël frowned slightly.
— *…?*
The Abyssos creature swelled.
Again.
Again.
Too fast.
Far too fast.
Clara laughed.
— *You want my mana?!*
Her aura became crushing.
— *TAKE IT!!*
Abyssos trembled.
Swelled.
Deformed.
Vespera:
— *Now.*
Dozens.
No.
Hundreds of blue magic circles appeared.
Instantly.
— *Don't worry,* Clara said.
— *We'll feed it… properly.*
Blades.
Spheres.
Bursts.
A rain of attacks.
**BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM**
Abyssos screamed.
For the first time.
It recoiled.
Unstable.
Overloaded.
Brakk, from inside Mira:
— *Wait… she's feeding the monster… TO MAKE IT EXPLODE?!*
Bloodweaver:
— *Exactly.*
— *It's stupid.*
Pause.
— *And brilliant.*
The creature was pushed back.
Destabilized.
And Clara—
was gone.
She reappeared before Abyssos.
Already there.
Fist charged.
— *Well.*
She smiled.
— *You're going to disappear.*
She struck.
**BOOOOOOM.**
But—
Azraël was already there.
He caught her fist.
The shockwave exploded around them.
The ground shattered.
The air tore apart.
Azraël looked at her.
Still calm.
Still smiling.
— *Fast.*
He raised his leg.
And—
**BAM.**
Clara was hurled away.
Crushing everything in her path.
Wall.
Floor.
Space.
She slid.
Stopped.
A streak.
Invisible.
Ultra-fast.
Azraël.
He zigzagged between Vespera's attacks.
Dodged them.
As if they didn't exist.
And—
**BAM.**
A second blow.
Clara was sent even farther.
Silence.
Azraël landed softly.
Arms open.
Like a king.
— *Face the truth.*
His aura vibrated slightly.
— *You have…*
Pause.
— *no chance.*
Silence.
In the rubble.
Clara rose.
Slowly.
She spat a little blood.
Then—
she smiled.
Again.
— *Yeah…*
She wiped her mouth.
— *That's what I was waiting for.*
Vespera sighed.
— *You're truly hopeless.*
Clara cracked her neck.
Her aura began to rise again.
Denser.
Heavier.
— *Now…*
She lifted her head.
— *We can really begin.*
Chapter 420 — The Problem is Pride
The Sanctuary… was no longer a Sanctuary.
It had become a dubious mix between a cosmic battlefield, a messy nightmare, and a construction site abandoned by tired gods.
Pieces of space floated like shattered glass.
Fragments of dreams drifted slowly, as if they had missed their exit.
And in the middle of it all… Clara had just crashed against something that vaguely resembled a wall.
Silence.
Then—
— *…okay,* Brakk said, looking around, *I have a serious question.*
No one answered.
— *Are we still in the same world… or did we switch three times without telling me?*
Mira raised her hand, very serious:
— *I think we switched. This one's prettier.*
Bloodweaver sighed:
— *No. It's just more broken. Subtle difference.*
— *Ah, perfect,* Brakk replied. *So I'm dying in a broken world. That reassures me immensely.*
Meanwhile…
Clara slowly stood up.
Her body was covered in blue fissures, as if her own mana was trying to escape without paying rent (in other words: *"Her body was covered in blue fissures, not wounds, but shards of mana too dense to remain contained."*).
She spat a little blood.
Then she smiled.
— *Seriously… you're annoying.*
Azraël floated slightly, surrounded by invisible layers of space and fragments of reality that clearly refused to cooperate.
— *And you are limited,* he replied calmly.
He tilted his head.
— *You hit hard. Very hard.*
— *But you hit simply.*
Pause.
— *And in a complex world… simple people die quickly.*
Clara cracked her neck.
— *Don't worry… I never claimed to be smart.*
Vespera in her head:
— *Confirmation validated.*
— *BUT I'M EFFECTIVE.*
Meanwhile, a little further away…
Cyrus analyzed the scene, his eyes glowing, surrounded by lines of code scrolling at indecent speed.
— *Fascinating…* he murmured.
— *She's literally self-destructing to increase her performance.*
A.I.D.A appeared beside him.
— *Correction: Probability she understands what she's doing: 12%. Probability she still wins: 78%.*
Cyrus froze.
— *…excuse me?*
Alaster, calmly, hands behind his back:
— *You'll have to accept it, my friend.*
— *NO,* Cyrus replied immediately. *My intelligence refuses that statistic.*
— *Your intelligence is not a valid argument against facts,* the AI answered calmly.
— *TREASON.*
Elsewhere…
Samaël observed.
Motionless.
His shadow continued to spread, slowly covering the Sanctuary like a black tide.
— *Two anomalies…* he murmured.
— *A brute… and a manipulator.*
A faint smile appeared.
— *Interesting.*
Seth, eyes closed, murmured:
— *No.*
Pause.
— *Entertaining.*
Brakk looked at him.
— *Honestly… you're the worst.*
— *Why?* Seth asked calmly.
— *Because you look like you know everything that's going to happen… and you do nothing.*
— *I'm waiting for the best version of events.*
— *…you're a problem.*
Back to the fight.
Clara slowly raised her head.
Her aura changed.
It became denser.
Heavier.
More unstable.
Even the air seemed hesitant to remain around her.
— *Alright… I'm done playing.*
Azraël smiled.
— *Finally.*
Clara placed her hand on her chest.
— *Ves.*
— *Yes?*
— *We stop holding back.*
Silence.
Then—
— *Alright… but if we die, you're the one explaining it to everyone.*
— *Deal.*
**BOOM.**
It wasn't an attack.
It was a release.
The entire Sanctuary trembled.
Fragments of space began to vibrate.
Even Azraël's illusions recoiled slightly.
Brakk threw himself to the ground.
— *IS SHE DEFECTIVE OR WHAT?!*
Mira, fascinated:
— *Is she going to explode?*
Nightmare crossed his arms:
— *No.*
Pause.
— *She IS the explosion.*
Clara vanished.
Reappeared.
In front of Azraël.
Instantly.
Even space hadn't had time to understand what was happening.
Azraël opened his eyes slightly.
— *Oh.*
**FIST.**
The impact made no sound.
But the entire Sanctuary bent around the shock.
The layers of space… recoiled.
For the first time.
Azraël was pushed back several meters.
Silence.
Then—
He burst out laughing.
— *HAHAHAHAHA!*
He placed his hand on his face.
— *Alright… now we're talking seriously.*
His aura changed.
Darker.
Heavier.
More dangerous.
— *You just crossed a limit.*
Clara wiped the blood from her lip.
— *So did you.*
In the background…
Mister Mind watched the scene, hands behind his back.
— *Interesting… very interesting…*
Then he turned his head slightly.
— *By the way. Cyrus. Alaster.*
— *Weren't you two supposed to be fighting?*
Cyrus, without looking away:
— *I haven't forgotten.*
Alaster smiled faintly.
— *Neither have I.*
Brakk raised his hand from the floor:
— *Excuse me… can we avoid adding ANOTHER apocalypse-level fight?*
No one answered.
Mira looked at Brakk:
— *I think it still lacks chaos.*
Brakk stared at her.
— *…you're dangerous.*
— *Thank you 😊*
The narrator concluded:
In a world where ranks no longer mean anything,
where logic abandons before the fight even begins…
Only one truth remains.
It is not the rules that decide the victor.
It is those who break them.
And right now…
Everyone was breaking them.