Regression: Reclaiming the End-Chapter 35: Together into the 5th Floor Part III

[Phase Two: Deadbolt Barrage – Initiated]

The cathedral pulsed.

It was subtle at first—like the whole place inhaled. The air grew tight, brittle with static. Then the Lich moved—its skeletal fingers clutched the staff with reverence, raising it skyward as veins of molten mana surged beneath the cracked marble like magma seeking release.

And release it did.

KRA-KOOM!

A volley of midnight-black bolts erupted from the Lich’s staff like a thunderstorm made of shadow. Dozens, maybe hundreds of bolts crashed toward us, hissing through the air with a sound like screaming ash.

"Noel, incoming!"

I dove to the side, letting the first volley crash behind me in a burst of shattered floor and smoke. Debris rained from the vaulted ceiling.

Noel didn’t dodge. Instead, he ran forward straight into the fray.

I opened my mouth to yell—then stopped.

Because lightning cracked.

In a sudden flash, his body lit up in arcs of white-blue electricity. Sparks danced across his arms, tracing down his spine, and into the sword clutched in his right hand. He swung it wide—thunder following in its wake like a war drum.

"Arcbind: Thundergrasp!" he roared.

The sword ignited with raw voltage, crackling violently as it met the swarm of summoned skeletons.

CRACK!

Bones burst. Shattered. Disintegrated.

But he wasn’t done.

With his left hand, he conjured a glowing sphere of compressed lightning—a skill glyph spiraling around it like an orbit of stars.

"Stormcell: Burst Lattice!"

He slammed his palm into the ground.

A circular blast of electric energy surged outward from his position, chaining between skeletons with unnatural precision. Each enemy it touched seized, cracked, and fell into smoking heaps of charred bone.

I watched, stunned for a moment.

’He’s using both hands separately. Offensive form on the right. Cast form on the left. Damn! He’s syncing with Gethos’ dual-mode invocation technique already.’

A skill set built for overwhelming aggression—one hand for blades, the other for storms.

The arena flashed white-blue with every swing, every cast.

For a moment, even the Lich paused its chants.

Noel turned toward me mid-spin, a wild grin on his face. "How’s that for support?"

I snorted, leaping onto a fractured pillar for a better angle. "Took you long enough to show off."

And then, another darkbolt tore through the sky.

Then I whispered, almost admiringly, "Keep going, Noel. I’ll watch your back."

’Because if you’re this strong now... then maybe, just maybe, I can stop fate from repeating itself.’

-

[Phase Three: Grand Rite – Initiated]

The atmosphere shifted.

No... it warped.

The cathedral began to tremble. Cracks snaked across the ancient marble as the Lich raised its staff and drove it into the altar with a sickening THUD. Shadows exploded outward, writhing across the walls like living oil. The very air grew heavy, saturated with mana so dense it made my skin crawl.

"That’s not right."

The Lich had begun its final chant. A circle of jagged runes erupted beneath its feet, spiked and uneven like broken chains—glyphs I recognized.

I gritted my teeth, eyes locked on the glow building around the Lich. "This wasn’t how it went last time. That thing’s pulling in a mana surge. And it’s not a little boost."

The cathedral’s arches groaned, distorted by the raw pressure building.

’Three times... No, five.’

’It’s at least five times stronger than when I first killed it.’

All across the arena, bone fragments twitched. And then rose.

More skeletons, dozens of them, staggered upright. But these were different—clad in corroded armor, inscribed with fading runes, their swords dripping with liquid shadow. Each one bore the aura of a minor elite.

My eyes narrowed.

"It’s trying to cast a Grand Spell."

Noel landed beside me, his sword crackling in his grip. "No way we’re letting that happen."

I exhaled, then stepped forward. "I’ve got a skill."

"Huh?"

"To stop it. I’m going to nullify the Lich’s spellcast."

Noel blinked. "Wait—hold on. You can do that?" He raised an eyebrow, half-impressed, half-dubious. "You mean like poof—gone? Just like that?"

I didn’t answer with words. Just a small shrug and a glance forward.

’Watch me.’

My eyes locked onto the Lich. The cathedral pulsed with its chant. Ancient, guttural syllables that tore at the soul. Power gathered into the staff like a black sun collapsing inward.

’One cast per fight. One absolute shut down.’

I reached into my core. Felt the threads of Caelum Nihil’s pact hum beneath my skin.

And spoke the words.

"Null Directive."

A pulse of pale light burst from my palm—silent, sharp, and absolute.

[ Null Directive Activated: One hostile skill or spell will be completely negated regardless of rank or source. ]

The chanting stopped just like that.

The runes shattered beneath the Lich’s feet like broken glass.

The shadows recoiled. The skeletons faltered.

And the Lich screeched.

A horrific, soul-tearing sound, as its mana was ripped away by an unseen force. The surge it had gathered for so long—evaporated in an instant.

I stepped forward through the backlash winds, cloak fluttering.

"Now, Noel," I said, voice cold. "End it."

His grin widened.

"Don’t have to tell me twice."

He raised his blade—lightning coiling around it like a living beast—and pressed his hand against the edge.

"Gethos," he murmured. "Let it thunder."

And then

"Heavenrend Tempesta!"

His sword became a streak of light.

He shot forward like a thunderbolt fired from the heavens themselves and his blade split the Lich in half.

The Lich’s body collapsed into fragments of bone and drifting embers, disintegrating before it could even hit the cracked cathedral floor. Its crown clattered and split in two. The black sun above the altar faded into nothingness.

The system chime echoed faintly through the ruined hall, but Noel didn’t react to the messages.

[Boss Defeated - The Lich of the Fifth Vein has been destroyed.]

[Quest Complete.]

[You have cleared the 5th Floor of the Labyrinth.]

"Ha... Hahaha—HAAAHHH!"

With a shout that turned into a breathless laugh, Noel dropped onto the cold marble floor, arms splayed wide.

Dust puffed up around him as he lay there grinning like a madman.

"I can’t believe we actually did it!" he laughed, voice hoarse. "Bro, we destroyed that thing!"

His chest rose and fell with every breath, sweat soaking through his shirt. Sparks still flickered faintly along his gauntlets and blade.

I stayed standing for a moment, letting the last embers of Null Directive fade from my hand.

"You nearly overcharged yourself," I said dryly, stepping over a fallen pillar. "That final strike burned through more mana than you can afford."

Noel waved it off without even sitting up. "Totally worth it."

Then, after a pause: "But also... might need, like, five minutes."

I couldn’t help it. I let out a small exhale—almost a laugh.

He looked like a man who’d just won the lottery and survived a car crash on the way home.

"First time seeing you laugh like that in a Rift," I muttered.

"First time you didn’t solo the damn boss before I even touched it."

"Fair."

He tilted his head toward me from the floor, grinning. "You weren’t kidding. Fighting with you? Feels like cheating."

"No," I said, looking toward the shattered altar where the Lich once stood. "That was just a taste."

’Because next time... we wouldn’t be fighting just some deranged dungeon boss. We’d be fighting players. And one of them had a crown of thorns.’