Chapter 421 — The Arsonist of the Infinite Book
Clara cracked her neck. A sharp, definitive sound. Her blue aura rose another notch, denser, heavier, turning outright aggressive. Reality itself seemed irritated by her presence. She smiled, a wild gleam in her eyes.
— Well… I'll deal with you two quickly.
She pointed at Abyssos, the shifting dark mass, then at Azrael.
— You… and your weird pet. You'll be first, Abyssos.
Azrael raised an eyebrow, genuinely offended yet amused by her lack of tact.
— "Weird"? You're insulting a work of art. It's my familiar, my companion if you prefer. A minimum of respect.
He spread his arms slightly, adopting an inviting posture.
— But before that… you'll have to get through me. And honestly, I doubt your abilities. It's two against one, Clara.
Clara tilted her head, a mocking smile on her lips.
— You really think your mutt can handle me?
She lifted her hand, a blue sphere beginning to form. In her mind, Vespera's voice echoed, filled with despair:
— No. NO! Not that sphere again! We've seen it 47 TIMES in five minutes!
— It works, doesn't it? Clara shot back inwardly. You're too stingy, Ves. Why change?
— Efficiency before style? Wrong! We have a reputation, this isn't a tutorial! Even the enemies are starting to anticipate!
— Then they should dodge better, Clara cut her off. I'll use this as a distraction to wreck his summon.
— Ok, you're hopeless… Vespera sighed. Focus on the creature, I'll handle the spells and keep the other one busy.
Clara quickly tied her hair back, her gaze sharpening.
— You're wrong, Azrael. It's two against two.
— Oh really? Azrael looked around, pretending to search. I must have missed someone. I don't see your ally.
— You don't need to see her. You'll understand soon enough.
A moment of silence. Then the air tore open. A massive, unstable cone of energy appeared in the void above her.
— Azure Dragon's Breath.
BOOM. Blue flames erupted. It wasn't fire, but the combustion of pure mana. The infinite layers of Azrael's defense vanished one after another. One, ten, a hundred… they weren't pierced, they were erased from the pagination of the world. Azrael blinked, impressed.
— Oh… that one's delightful. I like it.
Clara wasted no time. She expelled mana beneath her feet in an explosion that cracked reality behind her.
— X-Destruction.
Two massive slashes tore through space. Not mere attacks, but verdicts of pure annulment. Azrael watched them approach, his eyes shifting in tone.
— Alright… now this is dangerous. Even outside my defense, that could reach me.
Further away, Haya folded her arms, watching the chaos.
— Wait… are those attacks even legal?
Mister Mind answered calmly:
— No. But she does them anyway. Imagine Azrael's defense as a book. Each page is an infinite universe. Normally, you can't get past the first page. Azrael often places himself near the end to be untouchable. But Clara doesn't try to turn the pages. She burns the entire book at once. She gives him no chance to hide in the pagination.
Brakk blinked, his brain overheating.
— That's totally illegal! Why isn't she stopped?
Cyrus replied without lifting his eyes from his screens:
— Because there's no one above to stop her.
— … Ah, Brakk muttered. So we're screwed.
— Exactly.
Clara drew a line of pure speed, fragmenting reality. She landed before Abyssos. The creature screamed, projecting thousands of shadowy hands and arms toward her.
— You wanted to devour my mana and will? Clara shouted. Go on, TAKE IT ALL!
BOOM. Her aura exploded. At contact, Abyssos's arms vaporized instantly. The creature tried to absorb, to swell, again and again, but began to tremble. It recoiled. Clara stopped, tilting her head.
— Wait… is that fear I feel? Seriously?
Her gaze turned icy. Her aura climbed another notch.
— Pathetic. I thought only humans felt that.
BOOM. Under the unbearable pressure, Abyssos couldn't resist. Its body disintegrated, overwhelmed until it "refused to exist." It vaporized completely in the blue mana.
Silence fell. Clara exhaled slowly.
— There. Thanks, Ves, for holding the other one off.
— You're welcome. I admit, that was stylish… but VARIETY in your attacks next time!
— No.
— I hate you.
— Love you too.
Clara turned to Azrael and cracked her fingers one last time.
— Alright. You're next.
Azrael was smiling, but it was no longer amused. It was dangerous. He raised his hand slightly, and the space around him shifted radically.
— You just destroyed my toy, he murmured. Now… we'll play seriously.
In the background, Brakk stood up, then immediately sat back down.
— Ok… we've gone from "fun and games" to "end of the world." I'll stay put.
Bloodweaver nodded:
— Wise choice.
Cyrus was still analyzing:
— She destroyed a conceptual entity just by overloading its existence… that's broken.
Mister Mind smiled behind his mask:
— The book burns.
Seth, eyes closed, added:
— No. The problem… is the arsonist.
In a battle where one controls infinity and the other simply refuses to obey the rules…
The question is no longer who is stronger.
But who will break first.
Chapter 422 — The Paradox of Apollyon
Azrael let out a deep sigh of boredom as he watched the vaporous remains of Abyssos dissipate into the air.
— What a burden… not even able to survive against a brute who spams the same attack. I thought you'd be useful, but this is disappointing. Go back to sleep in my dream world.
With a simple wave of his hand, he erased the last traces of his familiar. Then, in the blink of an eye, without transition or perceptible movement, he reappeared right in front of Clara. His smile had returned, intact and provocative.
— Well, let's continue. I don't know how you managed to keep me at bay while dealing with my "concept"…
— I told you it was two against two, Clara replied with a grin. But you didn't listen. Done crying over your dog?
— It was a concept, Azrael repeated coldly. But I don't blame you, you don't seem very… intellectual.
— And you seem very talkative for someone who just got dragged like a trash bag, Clara shot back.
In the stands, Brakk let out a loud "OHHHH!"
— He's going to die, Bloodweaver stated.
— Me? Brakk asked nervously.
— No. Him, Bloodweaver said, pointing at Azrael.
— Oh okay… wait WHAT?!
Azrael raised his hand. A massive sphere appeared, growing at a terrifying speed. It wasn't a simple spell, but a distortion twisting light itself. Clara frowned.
— Since when does he cast spells?
— Exactly, Vespera intervened in her mind. This isn't magic. It's imagination made real. Basically, he cheats.
— Ah. So like me?
— NO. YOU'RE WORSE.
Clara shrugged and wasted no time. Several blue slashes, charged with X-Destruction intent, rushed at Azrael. The clash was brutal: the slashes struck the mirages in a series of chromatic explosions. Suddenly, Azrael's sphere teleported instantly onto her. Without hesitation, Clara cut it cleanly, splitting space in two. She straightened, brushing off her shoulder.
— Honestly… you can do better.
Azrael growled, his eyes glowing with a dark light.
— Arrogant.
He charged. His fist, saturated with mana so dense it seemed solid, struck the air with a force that destroyed everything in its path. The impact was seismic, but at the last moment, Clara created a protective mana shield that absorbed most of the blow.
— What did you think?
She vanished in a blazing blue trail, reappearing in Azrael's blind spot. Her hand, wrapped in a cutting aura, shattered the Geometer's defense. She didn't let go. Catching him mid-flight, she grabbed his face and smashed him into the ground. She dragged him across a colossal distance, tearing the Sanctuary's earth like a battlefield, before hurling him away like garbage.
— Okay… now it's personal, Brakk commented.
— It's romantic, Mira added.
— NO.
Azrael slowed his fall, sliding, a bloody smile on his lips.
— Interesting…
Suddenly, Clara froze. Her own body split, as if thousands of invisible blades were attacking her from within.
— Watch out! Vespera screamed.
Azrael seized the hesitation to appear above her and deliver a brutal kick to her face. Clara was sent flying, but she dug her fingers into the substrate of reality to stop her momentum. She lifted her head, a wild smile on her lips.
— Okay… now it's getting fun.
Azrael spread his arms, the sky darkening behind him. Pressure began to weigh on the entire universe.
— Do you know the difference between dreams and imagination, Clara?
— No… and I don't care 😜.
— Of course, Azrael continued. Imagination is limited by the brain, which cannot conceptualize what surpasses it. But dreams… dreams are pure unconsciousness. They ignore rules. One can conceptualize a square with three sides.
Even Cyrus stopped analyzing. His screens overloaded.
A.I.D.A: Alert: very bad idea detected.
— You think? Cyrus replied.
Azrael brought his hands together. Everything vibrated. Even Samael, from his throne, seemed intrigued.
— Come to me… Apollyon.
The world seemed to groan. From a black fissure, a refusal of reality, an entity of pure destruction emerged. Apollyon. A being whose mere presence made all creation falter, affecting even the higher realms beyond space and time, and unraveling the very meaning of things. Ariel, watching from above, paled.
— Is it really wise to impose such a thing on reality?
— Transposing Apollyon from dream to matter… Mister Mind murmured. Pure madness.
Cyrus stared at the entity:
— He summoned something even data refuses to analyze…
A.I.D.A: Critical error. Concept not indexable. Suggestion: run.
Brakk stood up:
— YES!
— Sit down, Bloodweaver ordered.
— BUT DON'T YOU SEE THAT THING?!
Azrael, eyes blazing, pointed at Clara.
— This is the end for you.
Clara stayed silent for a moment, then burst out laughing. A laugh louder than the creature's roar.
— HAHAHAHA! You finally brought out something interesting!
— …are you serious? Azrael asked, stunned.
In her mind, Vespera panicked:
— Clara… we might die.
— Finally, a real fight.
— YOU'RE INSANE!
Clara advanced, her aura climbing to heights never reached before. She clenched her fist, her gaze feral.
— Well… let's see if your monster can survive mine.
When the unconscious takes form…
When the dream becomes real…
Only one problem remains.
Facing someone…
Who has never respected reality.
Chapter 423 — The Anomaly vs The Void
The silence that followed Apollyon's appearance wasn't the absence of sound. It was extinction. No wind. No mana. Nothing. The birdsong had died, and even thoughts seemed to slow, as if the universe itself held its breath, terrified of drawing the Thing's attention.
Apollyon resembled nothing known. Its form oscillated between a black ink mist and an impossible geometric structure. Wherever it "existed," reality folded in on itself, correcting badly—very badly. Nearby trees instantly turned into pillars of salt, then shards of glass, before evaporating into a gray void. Fragments of the world transformed, disappeared, and contradicted themselves in logical chaos.
Brakk stared, pale.
— Okay… I give up. That's not a monster anymore, that's a bug.
For once, Cyrus didn't respond. His glasses displayed a single message: ERROR.
A.I.D.A added coldly:
— Recommendation: do not interact. Secondary recommendation: pray.
— …I don't pray, Cyrus muttered.
— Then start, Brakk shot back.
Clara remained still. Her blue aura, usually so wild, had tightened around her, compact and dense, like liquid crystal armor prepared to withstand the impossible.
— Ves… she said softly.
— I know, Vespera's voice replied, more serious than ever. Don't be reckless. If you act normally or approach it the usual way, you'll cease to exist before even touching it.
— "Normally"? Clara smirked, the air trembling. You know that's not my style.
— NO, NOT LIKE USUAL! Vespera screamed.
Azrael, arms crossed, never took his eyes off Clara. His face bore divine arrogance. He raised his hand, a simple flick of his finger.
— Erasure.
It wasn't a beam. It wasn't a wave. Simply, the very concept of "Clara" was targeted for immediate deletion. The space where she stood was replaced by absolute void, a gaping hole in the fabric of existence. Silence.
Then— BOOM.
Clara reappeared above Apollyon, propelled by an explosion of mana so violent it forced reality to create her an invisible foothold.
— Missed, she said.
Even Azrael frowned.
— …what?
— I just decided I still exist, Clara retorted, floating in the air.
Vespera sighed in her mind:
— …that's NOT how it works.
— Yes. For me, it is.
Clara raised her hand:
— X-Destruction: Conceptual Rupture.
She didn't strike the monster, but the air around it. Vespera's twin slashes didn't just cut; they folded space and isolated Apollyon from the rest of the dimension. It was as if Clara had put Azrael's summon in parentheses, a bug locked inside a bubble of void.
— HAHAHA! she shouted, landing heavily, the ground turning to stardust beneath her feet. This is your Destroyer? It needs permission to exist? Let me give it its resignation!
Azrael shook his head, a glacial pity in his eyes.
— You don't understand… Apollyon isn't a creature. It's the end of the book. You can't "defeat" the end.
Silence fell; even Mira stopped talking. Suddenly, an image imposed itself in the witnesses' minds, an echo of the past. They saw Azrael as a four-year-old child, seated on a throne of pure concept in the Dream World. Before him, the immense and terrifying Abyssos crawled on the ground, prostrating before his "Young Majesty" in absolute terror. The boy said nothing, but his aura dominated infinity.
Brakk blinked.
— Wait… he was already a problem at 4 years old?
— Yes, Bloodweaver answered.
— Great.
Back in reality, Azrael continued:
— Don't be arrogant. All your efforts are doomed to fail.
— Wanna bet? Clara shot back.
— Bad idea, Vespera warned.
— Too late. Ves, prepare the "Dream Burner." We'll show him even nightmares can have insomnia!
Additional mana arms appeared behind Clara's back. The hands performed mudras and incantations at speeds beyond human perception.
— Cocoon of the Abyss.
BOOM. A black-blue sphere rose, enclosing the three fighters. They were now completely isolated from the outside world, in a pocket dimension created to contain the clash.
— There, Clara murmured. Now we can break things without getting yelled at, and limit the damage.
— BUT I'M STILL HERE! Brakk screamed.
— Detail.
Apollyon moved. Or rather, the end advanced. Clara opened a gaping rift behind her. A colossal, unstable blade emerged, vibrating at a frequency that annulled matter.
— Mana World-Slasher.
The attack split Apollyon in two, shattering its impossible structure. The concept itself trembled.
— Ves, finish it! The kid won't let me!
— I'm trying! Vespera shouted.
Azrael, enraged, concentrated all his power into a gigantic sphere above his head.
— YOU CAN'T!
But Clara was faster.
— Sapphire Shockwave!
The cone of energy exploded with seismic force. Azrael's sphere was pulverized, and he was violently blown away before he could unleash his attack.
Silence returned as the Cocoon of the Abyss dissipated. Back in the Sanctuary, the sight was striking. Azrael was on his knees, panting, his clothes in tatters. Blood poured from his eyes and nose; his physical body could no longer withstand the backlash of his dream collapsing.
Apollyon was gone. Completely.
Cyrus froze.
— She… destroyed a concept of ending?
A.I.D.A corrected:
— Correction: She forced it to never exist.
— …okay, that's worse.
Clara approached slowly, her blue aura calming into a cold, cutting flame. She stopped before him, looking down.
— This is the end. For real.
Azrael lifted his eyes. A weak, bloody smile stretched across his lips.
— Do you really… he coughed blood …think that was my last dream?
Silence. Clara narrowed her eyes.
— …what?
Behind them, Seth smiled. Very faintly.
The narrator concluded:
In a battle where even the end can be destroyed…
The true danger is not the one who strikes, nor the one who imagines.
It is the one who writes what comes after.
Chapter 424 — The Architect of Mirages
Azrael, lying on the ground and bathed in his own blood, let out a hoarse laugh—broken, unstable—that quickly turned into a bloody coughing fit. Yet despite the state of his body, he didn't seem defeated.
— The end? Hahaha… are you serious? Stop joking, Clara.
Clara frowned, keeping her finger firmly pressed against his forehead.
— Now he's starting to ramble. The backlash must've fried his neurons. You've lost, Azrael. Accept it.
— No, he murmured simply.
Silence fell abruptly over the battlefield. Then something changed. It wasn't a simple surge of aura or an imminent attack. Reality itself seemed to hesitate, like an image projected onto a veil of smoke. Azrael rose slowly, wiping the blood from his eyes with a casual swipe of his sleeve. His aura shifted frequency, becoming blurry, unstable, like a reflection on agitated water.
Suddenly, the world crackled.
— The True becomes False. The False becomes True.
This was his true essence: the Master of Mirage Realities. For him, pain, battle wounds, even Apollyon's defeat were nothing but poorly written fictions, paragraphs he could erase with a mental stroke. Before Clara's stunned eyes, the blood vanished. His clothes repaired themselves instantly. His wounds closed as if time had reversed.
Among the spectators, shock was absolute.
— Wait… WAIT… Brakk shouted, eyes wide. DIDN'T WE ALREADY DO ALL THIS?!
Cyrus stared, pale:
— Rewriting… no… worse…
A.I.D.A analyzed coldly:
— Analysis: He doesn't repair reality. He redefines what is real.
— Okay, that's illegal, Brakk grumbled.
Azrael stood there, intact. Smiling. As if the previous chapter had never happened.
— Did you really think you'd get rid of me so easily?
Clara stayed silent for a second, then sighed:
— Okay… you're annoying.
She didn't have time to say more. A searing pain pierced her side. She looked down, incredulous: a blade of energy had appeared, already embedded in her body. She spun around, searching for the attacker, but there was no one behind her. Yet Azrael was right in front of her, arm extended into the void.
— Snap out of it! Vespera screamed in her mind. He's playing with your perceptions!
— I GOT THAT! Clara shot back inwardly.
Azrael appeared instantly before her and unleashed a devastating kick. Clara crossed her arms to block, but the impact was abnormally heavy, hurling her through the battlefield's wreckage. She slid, braked hard by tearing into the ground, and recovered with feline agility, her eyes burning with cold fury.
— Now I'm pissed.
She cracked her neck and charged. It was a punch loaded with pure mana, brute force capable of pulverizing reality.
— I've decreed the space between us is infinite, Azrael murmured monotonously.
Clara's fist stopped dead, mere millimeters from his face. It spun in the void, unable to cross the conceptual distance Azrael had imposed on the universe. Clara strained, muscles ready to snap, but nothing worked.
— Seriously?!
With a cruel smile, Azrael suddenly deactivated his technique, using Clara's unbalanced momentum to counter.
— Impact Reflection.
The shock was colossal. Clara was hurled back dozens of meters. Before she could stabilize, Azrael was already on her. He extended his hand, and a gigantic mirage sphere formed, expanding rapidly until it engulfed Clara completely. The sphere closed like an opaque glass prison, isolating her from the world.
— There, Azrael said, dusting himself off. End of the story.
— …it lasted a while though, Brakk muttered, dejected.
— I liked Clara, Mira added sadly.
— SHE'S NOT DEAD! Brakk shouted.
— Statistically… Cyrus began, before being cut off by a celestial tearing sound.
CRACK.
A blazing fissure ripped the sky above the sphere. A line of flame, unbearably pure, a violent streak of fire, split the air and sliced Azrael's attack in one clean stroke. The mirage sphere shattered into shards of nothingness in an explosion of light.
Before the Geometer could react, a flaming silhouette crossed the distance in a flash. A hand seized Azrael's throat with colossal strength, lifting him like a ragdoll before slamming him violently against the very structure of reality. The impact resonated through the universe like a crystal gong; even Samael raised an eyebrow at such a display of force.
The flames cloaking the newcomer slowly dissipated, revealing an imposing, stable, dangerous figure. She turned her head toward Clara with a sly smile.
— Hope I'm not too late, Clara.
Clara, rising and wiping blood from her cheek, flashed a wild grin.
— No, you're right on time. Just when it's getting interesting.
Brakk jumped up and down:
— WHO IS THIS NOW?!
— Another anomaly, Bloodweaver answered simply.
— HOW MANY ARE THERE?!
— Too many.
Azrael rose more slowly this time. He touched his throat where the fiery grip had seized him. Observers noticed something: his wounds no longer vanished as quickly. Those flames had "burned" part of his mirage power.
— Another anomaly… Azrael growled, repositioning himself. You really think fire can burn what isn't real? You're burning… my illusions.
— These aren't mere flames, the ally replied, clenching her fists, making them crackle with new energy. It's truth consuming your lies. Pure truth.
Vespera, in Clara's mind, regained confidence:
— She's right. Her power creates a zone of "stability." As long as she's here, Azrael can't cheat. He'll struggle much more to make true false. This is the moment, Clara! Together, we can shatter his mirrors for good!
Clara advanced slowly, her aura surging upward, surpassing her previous limits.
— Finally, a fair fight, she said.
— False, Vespera corrected. You're the problem, not him.
— Exactly.
Clara cracked her fingers, predator's gleam in her eyes.
— Well… shall we finish this?
Azrael wiped the remaining blood from his face. His smile returned, but it was different: darker, more desperate, more dangerous.
— Two against one?
— No, Clara replied with a wild grin. Two against you.
When reality lies…
When dreams dominate…
It takes truth to burn them.
And a brute… to finish the job.