Morgana stepped into the arena once more, her boots scraping against the scorched stone floor as silence fell across the coliseum. Across from her stood Kronos, the God of Ti—now fully awakened, his aura burning with the brilliance of two Cosmos Realms. The temporal energy surrounding him shimred like liquid starlight, warping the air with subtle distortions. Many were still speechless with his sudden breakthrough, even his own family.
But the ti god appears, too excited to care, she gazes at Morgana,
"This is going to be fun."
Morgana’s brow furrowed, heart pounding. She clenched her fists and took a steadying breath. Sothing was wrong. She should have been injured—should have been drained from the previous clash. Yet her body... it felt whole. Her limbs responded perfectly. Her blood surged, strong and untainted. Even her spirit pool was full, as if the previous fight never happened.
Then, Hers’ voice echoed across the arena. "BEGIN!"
All thought vanished as instinct kicked in.
A blinding flare of fla burst from Morgana’s back. Her form surged with the chaotic might of Khaos as she transford mid-step—her skin cloaking in obsidian scales, her limbs elongating with draconic fury. Her hair ignited into a cascade of crimson fire, and radiant runes glowed across her shoulders and face. The Dawn Wolf had returned, wreathed in dark, divine fire.
"I am in full power..." she hissed, her claws shining with fla. "I will still defeat you—again."
Across from her, Kronos tilted his head, visibly startled. Then a sharp bark of laughter erupted from his chest. "Hahaha! I see it now... your soul ca with in the tifold... fascinating." He narrowed his eyes. "This is good... I thought no one would know how amazing this power is."
Kronos unleashed his battlefield domain and charged forward.
His scythe howled through the air, a streak of silver and temporal law that tore the sky in its arc. Morgana twisted midair, catching the blade on her clawed arm. Sparks flew. Fla burst.
The collision rocked the arena.
Kronos was far more aggressive this ti. It was as if his newly found power crazed him, and Morgana was forced into a more defensive stance.
On the Earth faction’s side, Julian stirred.
His vision was still blurry as he pulled himself upright, grimacing through the ache in his body. He looked at Kronos, glowing with comic power, and froze.
"I failed... He’s broken through... two Cosmos realms..." His voice was filled with disbelief and guilt. "Can Morgana really... defeat him?"
He could barely believe it himself. Not just because of Kronos’ sudden breakthrough, but because Morgana was able to hold her ground.
But what truly shook him was Klea’s revelation.
"Turn back ti...? Damm!! How can we possibly defeat that...?"
In the vast magus universe, such spells were exceedingly rare. But for Earth’s magus, they had witnessed it once before—during the final battle of the Magus Academy Tournant. A spell that could alter fate itself... was beyond terrifying.
Now, all they could do was watch in helpless silence as Morgana gave everything she had to counter the god of ti.
Minutes passed. Neither side gave way.
Morgana’s body was ravaged. Crimson lashes marked her sides, deep bruises layered her arms, and blood dripped from the corner of her mouth. And yet, she did not falter. Her eyes remained locked on her enemy with unwavering fury.
The pain was constant, like needles stabbing through her nerves.
Her innate regeneration kicked in, closing shallow cuts, nding muscle, but even that had its limits.
And then—Killgragah’s voice echoed in her mind, grim and heavy.
Morgana grimaced. Her claws trembled.
She closed her eyes for one heartbeat. Then opened them, blazing with resolve.
"Then we finish this. Now."
She soared into the sky, fire trailing behind her like a teor ascending.
Her hands stretched wide, and a black sun began to form between her palms. Flas roared around her body—deep, black, and seething with Khaos energy. Runes lit up across her arms and neck, and her aura pulsed like a dying star ready to explode. The very air rippled from the intensity.
She compressed the fla into a sphere—dense, unstable, radiating heat that scorched the arena floor beneath her. It was her final gambit: [Infernal Hellburst], the pinnacle of her hellfire. A dark sun hovered between her palms, trembling with lethal energy.
Across the battlefield, Kronos’s eyes widened. For a heartbeat, even the God of Ti hesitated. "...Impressive," he muttered.
"Let show you," he said softly, lifting his glowing scythe overhead. "My strongest attack."
He pointed the scythe forward. The starlight embedded in the edge pulsed as he invoked his most devastating technique: [Chrono Cleave]
The blade shone with the full brilliance of two cosmos realms, infused with the divine rhythm of ti itself. Each swing distorted the air, slowing space around it as if reality feared to move near it.
Then both moved. Morgana hurled her dark sun forward with a feral roar, and Kronos surged to et it, scythe raised.
BOOOOMM!!!
A thunderous shockwave erupted the mont spell and blade collided. Light and darkness intertwined in a violent, blinding display of annihilation. The arena buckled under the pressure. Cracks tore through the barriers. Mountains trembled in the distance. Referee magus leapt in with dozens of layers of reinforcent spells, barely holding the battlefield together.
The explosion that followed turned day into night.
A column of fla and light pierced the sky. The blast radius swallowed the entire arena. For a long, breathless minute, there was only silence.
Then—
The smoke parted.
Two figures stood.
Both bloodied. Both scorched. But still standing.
Morgana’s transformation had faded. Her armor was cracked, the crimson runes along her body flickered dimly, on the verge of going out. She was gasping for air, her knees trembling beneath her as exhaustion clawed at every inch of her body.
Across from her, Kronos looked even worse. His once-majestic form was barely recognizable—armor cracked and lted, much of his flesh blackened and blistered from intense fla. One eye was swollen shut, and blood streaked down his jaw. His aura, once divine and overwhelming, now flickered weakly like a dying ember. He looked monts from collapse...
And yet... that grin remained.
With a whisper, he uttered the words:
"Chrono Reversion"
Tick... tick... tick...
A ghostly clock unfurled above him, its hands spinning backward. The air warped with temporal magic as his wounds closed, charred skin reford, and shattered armor knitted back together.
In seconds, Kronos stood tall, restored to full power, as if the battle had just begun.
All around the arena, the audience gasped in horror.
Kronos rolled his shoulders, flashing that sa grin.
"That was close... but that’s all you had, isn’t it?"
Morgana didn’t answer.
Her breath hitched. Her arms trembled. Her vision blurred. But her fists clenched tighter. Her will refused to yield.
"I... will not... let you win."
Kronos tilted his head slightly, voice calm but cold. "But I will."
All signs pointed to a single, crushing truth—
Kronos was winning.
From the Earth faction’s corner, Thrax slamd his fist into the railing, sparks flaring from his aura. "That bastard! That’s such a cheat skill! Damn it..."
The truth weighed heavily on them all.
If Kronos claid victory, the score would even out—eight to eight. Though he would not be allowed to fight again due to tournant rules, the Kronos faction still had a line of elite Magus-tier champions waiting.
The Earth faction... had no such luxury.
Only three nas were allowed for the final match: Titus, Arminius, and Octavius.
They were brave. Ready to die for the cause.
But none of them were Magus.
None of them stood a chance.
Julian scanned the Kronos corner—and froze.
A new figure had just arrived, cloaked in deep crimson battle robes. His re presence made the air feel heavier. Julian recognized him instantly.
"Perses..." he whispered. "The old Grand Magus... he made it."
A hush fell over the Earth side.
Perses would almost certainly be Kronos’s final choice. A Grand Magus veteran... no one on their side could stop him.
Hope was crumbling.
In that bleak silence, one na still echoed in their hearts.
"Ery..."
On the battlefield, Kronos chuckled again, as if reading their minds.
"You’re still waiting for him?" he scoffed. "Hahaha... don’t bother. He’s not coming."
He added, voice brimming with confidence, "I paid a heavy price to consult the best diviner. With absolute certainty, he will not co. So stop waiting!"
Morgana remained silent.
But inside, sothing stirred.
Ever since she reford the Khaos Gate, a part of her had already accepted that Ery wouldn’t make it in ti. She had buried that pain deep within herself—locked it away.
Until now.
Until Kronos spoke.
His mocking certainty, his boastful claim that Ery would never arrive... it should have confird her worst fears.
But instead—sothing ignited inside her.
A flicker.
A fla.
Hope.
She believed again.
He will co.
That single thought roared through her veins like wildfire.
Her body, bloodied and broken, trembled—not from weakness, but from awakening.
Her dawn form flared back to life. Flas licked across her skin. The runes on her body pulsed with new light.
With quiet determination, she whispered inwardly to the dragon that dwelled within her.
"Killgragah, let ...."
rumbled Killgragah.
"Yes," she said, voice like steel. "I just need to hold on... until he returns."
From Earth corner, Klea clutched her chest, eyes shimring.
"Ery, where are you?"
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