"You can go now!" Sebastian turned sharply to Ezekiel, his tone firm despite the pallor of his face. "We got this. You go help the others."

Ezekiel’s eyes narrowed, scanning Sebastian’s still trembling hands and faint aura. "I don’t think so. Your mana’s stuck in limbo—you’re forcing your body past its limit. Stay still. I’ll stabilize you."

Sebastian raised a weak hand, cutting him off, and gestured toward Elrond, who was still surrounded by skittering insects at the barrier. "Save your strength. Use it on Levi and the others—they’re probably facing something worse. A puppet user, or... whatever the hell that magic style is."

Ezekiel hesitated, glancing at Elrond. The barrier still pulsed faintly, Elrond’s swarm working tirelessly—but ten minutes had passed, and the shadow sphere hadn’t even cracked.

"Fine," Ezekiel muttered at last, the word edged with reluctant frustration. "But if anything changes—if something happens—I’m coming back here."

Sebastian managed a faint chuckle despite the ache in his chest. "Geez, Kiel... it’s our job as arcane mages to protect those below us. Go. I’ll still be standing when you return."

Ezekiel exhaled through his nose and clasped Sebastian’s shoulder, grounding him with a brief squeeze before stepping back. His gaze shifted to Elrond.

Elrond gave a wordless nod, one hand raised lazily in acknowledgment as his insects continued their eerie, synchronized work —but then, he froze mid-gesture, the runes hovering before him flickering violently.

A sudden pulse rippled through the shadow sphere—low, resonant, like a heartbeat made of thunder. His breath hitched.

Ezekiel and Sebastian immediately turned back to him, their own senses flaring as West’s mana signature suddenly disappeared.

"W-West..." Sebastian stammered, his throat tight. He took an instinctive step forward toward the sphere when Elrond stood up.

"Stay back!" Elrond barked, springing to his feet and leaping backward in one swift motion. His bugs scattered in a flurry of wings and skittering legs, forming a defensive swarm between him and the pulsing dome.

The barrier began to quake. Veins of violet light crawled violently across its surface, jagged and unstable. The once smooth sphere now convulsed like something alive, its surface warping inward and outward as if breathing or trying to burst.

"What’s happening?" Ezekiel demanded, hand already igniting with teleportation sigils.

Elrond didn’t answer immediately. His pupils constricted, focusing on the runes etched into the sphere. They weren’t just pulsing—they were unraveling. "It’s collapsing," he whispered hoarsely. "Something inside disrupted the domain’s core."

The ground trembled under their feet, a deep, low rumble echoing through the clearing. Fractures of shadow spread outward from the sphere like spiderweb cracks, distorting the air around it. The pulse quickened—heartbeat after heartbeat, like something trying to claw its way out.

"Then what are you doing?!" Ezekiel spun toward Elrond, voice sharp. "Continue—we have to get West out of that thing!"

Elrond’s throat bobbed in a hard swallow, sweat streaking down his temple. His insects, once synchronized, now scattered erratically, wings buzzing in discord as the sphere’s magic warped the air.

"I—I can’t," Elrond stammered, voice low but taut with dread. "The sphere’s too fragile now. If I press it any further—if I push even one more rune—the backlash won’t just shatter it..." He trailed off, staring at the cracks widening like veins of lightning across its surface. "It could detonate. Tear up the entire forest in one blow."

Sebastian froze, his eyes darting from Elrond to the sphere. "Detonate—?!" 𝒇𝙧𝙚𝓮𝙬𝙚𝓫𝒏𝓸𝓿𝓮𝒍.𝓬𝙤𝓶

"It’s not just that," Elrond added grimly, his voice dropping lower as he took a careful step back. "Whatever’s brewing inside there—it might not just be shadow magic. I can feel something else bleeding through. My insects recognized it as toxic. If it leaks out, the mana contamination will spread to the entire forest together with the nearby city."

A sharp gust of wind erupted from the sphere, forcing the three of them to brace against the shockwave. Trees groaned and bent outward as the cracks pulsed with violent violet light, faint whispers slithering into the clearing like voices just beneath hearing range.

Suddenly, Ezekiel and Sebastian shivered as the sphere split with a sickening crack. A flood of mana burst out—not wild, but oppressive. It slithered into their lungs like poison, heavy and cold, pressing on their chests until it felt as though the air itself had weight.

"T-This mana—" Ezekiel’s voice trembled as he clenched his fists, runes sparking unconsciously across his forearms. "This can’t be..."

"F-Fuck!" Sebastian hissed, staggering a step back, panic sharpening his tone. "This is bad! How’d he awaken this easily—we have to call East back—"

The cracking suddenly stopped, drawing their attention. The sphere, once writhing and pulsing, simply... stilled. Its shell broke apart, not with the catastrophic explosion they braced for, but in eerie silence.

Each fragment of shadowed glass drifted downward, dissolving into fine black ash. Slowly, the ashes spiraled inward, drawn toward a figure standing at the epicenter. The darkness didn’t just fall around him; it folded into him, consumed by him—a sight which made Sebastian and Ezekiel’s breaths hitch.

For a moment, all they saw was silhouette—a void made flesh, indistinguishable, and featureless.

Beside it, Wrenalthor appeared to be kneeling like a loyal knight beside his king. The shadow stirred then solidified. Slowly, its details bled into existence sending shiver to Ezekiel, Sebastian, and Elrond.

Hair—longer than before, reaching his waist, strands of black threaded with burning violet light that shimmered like molten metal. Skin pale, faintly glowing from the intricate, pulsing marks crawling underneath its skin, arcane sigils tracing veins and scars that weren’t there before.

His eyes now looks like twin infernos of violet flame, devoid of hesitation or warmth.

His nails, blackened and elongated into talon-like points, curled loosely at his sides.

The air warped around him, heavy and suffocating, forcing even Ezekiel and Sebastian—both arcane mages—to instinctively hold their breaths. It was more than mana; it was presence. An ancient, oppressive will that saturated every molecule, every heartbeat.

The wind itself stilled. The forest, moments ago alive with rustling leaves and distant bird calls, fell eerily silent.

Elrond’s instincts kicked in first. With a sharp flick of his fingers, a cloud of his insects burst outward, forming a living barrier around him. Their wings beat in controlled rhythm, releasing faint glimmers of green mist—a neutralizing agent he had cultivated for situations like this. The air shimmered faintly as the bugs filtered out toxins, weaving a protective cocoon around their master.

It wasn’t enough to cleanse the area, but it was enough to buy him breath.

Around them, nature suffered first.

Trees blackened from root to crown, bark cracking as though drained of life in an instant. Leaves curled inward, falling brittle and dead to the ashen soil.

Grasses shriveled to dust beneath their boots, flowers collapsing into oily puddles of decay. A radius of blight radiated outward from West’s feet—or whoever this person had become—growing with every flicker of violet light beneath his skin.

From the distance, animal cries echoed—high-pitched, frantic. Birds erupted from the treetops in panicked flocks, their wings slicing through the air in chaotic patterns. Small creatures bolted through the underbrush, scattering in every direction, desperate to flee the corrupted miasma that bled from the figure at the clearing’s heart.

"W-West..." Sebastian’s voice was a rasp, barely audible over the hum of dissolving life around them. He could barely reconcile what he was seeing—the violet glow, the long blackened claws, the living tattoos writhing faintly in West’s skin.

The figure turned to him slowly, unnervingly smooth. And then it grinned.

Fangs—long, sharp, glinting like polished obsidian—curved behind lips stained dark by violet mana.

"Ahh," the figure purred, voice layered—West’s timbre but in different tone. Deeper, menace. "Your friend?"

A pause, head tilting in mock sympathy.

"He’s kind of... asleep."

Sebastian froze mid-step, eyes darting between the two of them. Ezekiel’s voice—normally calm, restrained—had shifted. It carried an edge now, something heavier, older, as though he’d dropped a mask Sebastian hadn’t even realized he wore.

"Ahh, so it’s you then?" Ezekiel murmured, stepping forward. His aura began to rise, faint threads of cerulean light coiling around his frame.

Elrond blinked, confused, heart hammering. "What do you mean you—you know this thing?!"

Ezekiel ignored him. His gaze was fixed entirely on the figure ahead—the amalgam of West’s body and Asmaros’ soul.

Sebastian swallowed as he eyed Ezekiel them West.

"It’s been a while... Asmaros," Ezekiel marked.

The words were calm, almost casual. But the weight behind them hit like a strike—acknowledgment, recognition, challenge.

The creature stilled. For a heartbeat, violet light flickered wildly in its eyes, the grin faltering—until it curled into something sharper.

"Hmm?" Asmaros tilted his head, voice rich with curiosity. "Do I know you...?"

A pause. He inhaled deeply, tasting the air as if sifting through memories. Then, realization bloomed. It’s slow and terrible that it made Elrond swallow in mixed emotions.

"Ahhh~" His grin stretched wider, fang-lined and feral. He traced a lazy circle in the air with one claw-tipped finger. "This mana..."

His gaze suddenly sharpened, pupils narrowing into thin, predatory slits as he locked onto Ezekiel. In that moment, there was no mistaking it—this was not West anymore.

And then he vanished.

The air split with an audible crack, as though the fabric of the domain tore apart to accommodate his speed. A violet afterimage lingered in his wake, smearing like streaks of lightning as he crossed the clearing in less than a heartbeat.

"Nice to see you again, professor..."

The voice came from nowhere and everywhere, deep and melodic, mockery dripping from every syllable.

Ezekiel’s eyes barely had time to widen before Asmaros appeared directly before him—arm cocked back, claws gleaming with obsidian light. The strike descended with cataclysmic force.

Ezekiel reacted on instinct. Mana flared across his arms, forming jagged scarlet plating just in time to meet the blow.

The collision was apocalyptic.

A deafening boom echoed across the forest, the ground quaking as if struck by a meteor. Energy rippled outward in concentric shockwaves, uprooting trees and hurling debris through the air. The blast of wind alone sent Sebastian and Elrond tumbling backward, coughing as blackened soil and splintered wood rained over them.

Ezekiel’s guard held for half a heartbeat—long enough to avert instant death—but the force behind the strike was relentless. It shattered his defense like glass, hurling him through the air. His body tore through dead trunks in a chain of splintering impacts before slamming into the distant mountainside.

Rock and dirt cascaded around him in an avalanche, burying him in a crater of fractured stone.

"Ezekiel!" Sebastian’s voice cracked, throat raw with panic. He staggered upright, his legs barely steady beneath him, mana already gathering at his fingertips.

But the air shifted right away and a presence breathed down his neck, heavy and suffocating, thick with killing intent.

Sebastian froze.

"Going somewhere?"

The voice was a whisper, intimate and venomous, vibrating straight into his bones.

He turned, but too slow. Asmaros stood inches away, fanged grin splitting his face. His hand—long, clawed, and black-veined—was already reaching for Sebastian’s throat. The sheer weight of his aura pressed down making every breath a struggle.

Sebastian’s reflexes screamed at him to run, to teleport, to do anything, but the oppressive mana had already wrapped around him. His heart pounded painfully in his chest. The only movement he managed was a desperate flick of his fingers, conjuring a thin barrier of light between them.

It shattered instantly under Asmaros’ touch, the fragments dissolving like mist.

The impact never came.

A sudden chittering screech erupted behind them as a wave of insects—beetles, wasps, centipedes—swarmed in from the side. Elrond, pale but grinning, had flung his arms forward, commanding his swarm.

The insects collided with Asmaros in a living shield, their bodies glowing faintly with runes etched by Elrond’s magic. Acid hissed where their mandibles struck, leaving faint trails of smoke along Asmaros’ arm.

It barely slowed him.

Asmaros’ head turned toward Elrond with an eerie, almost curious tilt—as though noticing him for the first time. His grin widened.

"Ah... more vermin."

And with a casual flick of his wrist, a wave of violet energy blasted outward, hurling the swarm aside like dry leaves in a storm. The insects hit the ground twitching, some dissolving into motes of mana, others scrambling frantically back toward Elrond.

Elrond swallowed hard, eyes wide but hands already moving to summon more.

Sebastian, finally regaining some control of his limbs, stumbled backward, breathing ragged. His mana flared around him, pale and unsteady, but ready to strike if Asmaros turned his attention back toward him.