The destruction of the two puppets left Vashka frozen in disbelief.
Her breath hitched.
Every corner of the battlefield reflected a scene she could not imagine—her puppets, the pride of her craft, were being taken apart like brittle toys.
The bear puppet, her unstoppable wall, was completely restrained by icicles. The spikes lizard was pinned down by a tentacled beast, and the wing lion—her most savage creation—was in the worst state of all. Chunks of its reinforced body had been torn away.
Even the newly gained two silver golems were faltering. Athar, bleeding from the forehead, unleashed a spirit technique. Flas gathered around him in violent pulses before exploding point-blank against the golem’s chest. The blast threw dust and sparks across the battlefield.
The golem’s core clattered onto the stone floor.
Athar didn’t even pause. He whipped around, sprinting to support Annara in subduing the second silver golem.
By this ti, Vashka’s rage had curdled into sothing colder—fear.
She watched with widening eyes as Ery overpowered the last two humanoid golems, his strength pushing far beyond what any ordinary one-cosmos grand magus should possess. The sheer force behind his blows, the way he held off her puppets while maintaining multiple god-tier summons—it shattered every assumption she had made about him.
"You... you are not just a naless half-blood, are you?"
Her voice wavered, cautious, almost polite. "There is no need for mutual destruction. You can have the golems. I am only here for Randhal’s technique."
Ery let out a low, humorless chuckle. "You’re negotiating? ...It’s far too late for that."
Those words struck her like a slap.
"Huh?! You truly don’t know what’s good for you!" Vashka’s fury surged back.
Her aura flared violently. The air trembled as her domain expanded in a jagged pulse, and from it erupted another storm of silver threads—but so did not co for Ery.
Instead, they shot past him, attaching themselves like living needles to the unmoving row of Randhal’s dark golems behind him.
Ery’s expression tightened.
Unlike the pristine white golem, these dark worker constructs were built with a simpler design. Even from where he stood, Ery could see the threads sinking into their joints, threading through their limbs like veins, injecting her will directly into their cores.
The first golem twitched.
Then another.
Within seconds, the entire row of dormant constructs Randhal had left behind began to stir like corpses waking from shallow graves.
"Not on my watch!" Ery growled.
His arms whipped outward, and the twin blades materialized—one wreathed in ravenous fla, the other bleeding a deep, biting cold that frosted the air around it. Heat and winter clashed at his fingertips. He stepped forward, and the world trembled.
With a twist of his wrists, he unleashed his [Dao Divine Sword].
Multiple energy slashes exploded from his blades—the fire arcs blazing like falling teors, the ice slashes slicing clean lines through the haze. So strikes slamd into the humanoid puppets clinging to his sides, blasting them backward. Several more cut through the silver threads webbing across the room, severing lines that snaked toward the awakening golems.
But for every string he cut... ten more shot out from Vashka’s fingertips.
Ery surged forward.
Spatial energy flickered around him, bending the air as he tore through the incoming storm of threads. They lashed at him like needles and serpents—tens, hundreds, thousands—forming a suffocating sh that tried to seal every angle of approach. Ery ducked, twisted, and folded space, cleaving a path through the maze.
Vashka, however, was ready this ti.
She retreated the mont he closed in, her movent technique bending her body unnaturally as if she were sliding between invisible seams of the room. She spun backward, silver cords spiraling around her like a cocoon. Ery’s strike missed her throat by re inches—only to be intercepted by the sudden crash of the two humanoid golems slamming into his flanks again.
"Get the hell away!!"
His blades beca whirlwinds—fire and frost carving arcs that sent shards of tal and stone flying.
Vashka’s laughter echoed between the pillars.
By then, the dark golems shuddered to life—heavy bodies grinding, joints cracking as her control seeped into their cores.
More than half of the dormant dark golems were rising behind her.
"Kill him!!" Vashka shrieked.
The golems held Ery’s attack, they staggered but did not fall; they regrouped and charged again, unrelenting, driven by her brutal will.
Ery clicked his tongue in annoyance. These were rely worker golems, but they were built from rare materials, reinforced with runes and alloy bones.
Destroying them felt wrong, yet leaving them under Vashka’s control would only give her a growing army.
"Hahaha... these puppets are more interesting than I thought... go! Stop him!"
Vashka’s delighted shriek echoed through the hall as the newly hijacked dark golems lurched toward Ery.
Ery clenched his teeth. He spun his blades, readying a disabling strike, but before he could act, a figure shot past his peripheral vision.
"VIC?!" Ery almost shouted.
Vic didn’t hesitate. He slamd a golden talisman onto the head of the nearest advancing golem. The rune-paper ignited instantly, glowing like molten gold. Lines of script crawled over the golem’s stone body, and the construct froze mid-step, all motion halted.
Vic spun around, eyes wild. "Sir—ASSIST !"
For half a heartbeat, Ery stared, and then everything clicked. The talisman wasn’t harming the puppet; its purpose was to block Vashka’s control.
Ery roared, carving cleanly through a swarm of oncoming threads. He opened a path, shearing away puppet limbs and scattering arcs of cold and fla to carve breathing room for Vic.
The young magus darted forward fearlessly—recklessly—slapping talismans onto two more golems. Each rune cut Vashka’s connection, severing her control—however briefly.
Ery had to admire the kid. Stupidly brave..
But not enough.
Silver threads slashed through the air, shredding talismans nearly as fast as Vic applied them.
And now Ery had to shield the boy from stray attacks.
Even so... Vic’s intervention had done sothing. For the briefest mont, Vashka’s focus splintered—her control thinned—and the strings connected to the puppets flickered.
A window.
A chance.
Ery took it without hesitation.
Golden radiance erupted behind his back as he activated [Icarus Wing]. Ethereal feathers burst into existence, fanning out like a divine mantle.
He launched himself forward, shot like a spear of light.
Vashka barely had ti to widen her eyes.
Ery slamd into her with full force.
BAMMM!!
Both blades pierced clean through her shoulders as they crashed into the stone wall. The impact exploded outward, cracking the masonry, sending dust and light shattering through the room.
"ARGGGHH—!!"
Vashka’s scream ripped from her throat, blood spraying in an arc as the shockwave rolled across the hall.
"I got you now!!"
With both swords skewering through her shoulders, Vashka was nearly immobilized. Her threads faltered, thinning like dying veins of silver.
Ery offered her a single chance.
"Surrender!"
Vashka let out a breathless, trembling laugh. "Surrender...? Haha... you fool—"
But instead of words, sothing else slipped from her lips.
A silver glint.
Ery’s eyes widened a fraction of a second before the hidden weapon shot out—a crimson needle, impossibly thin, impossibly fast, it’s a high-grade artifact forged for killing at absolute close range.
Careless! Ery cursed inwardly.
He activated his spirit-reading instinctively, his perception sharpening to a razor’s edge just in ti to intercept the deadly point. His body twisted back, but Vashka’s surviving threads whipped forward, boxing him in, cutting off his retreat.
They shot from behind like hundreds of spears. If not for his fourfold Dawn Mirror Shield, Ery would have been severely wounded—if not outright killed.
He decided to focused all his will on countering the crimson needle that had halted an inch from his forehead. Then half an inch.
It began to tremble in midair.
A battle of raw ntal power erupted in an instant.
"Hahahaha! Now you die!" Vashka screeched, her face contorting with triumph.
As a high stage two-cosmos puppet master, her ntal strength was far above ordinary grand magus. Her mind—her will—was a blade honed through decades of manipulation, control, domination.
Against that, most grand magus would crumble.
On the other hand, Ery had not used his spirit attack for most of the battle, as it had little to no effect on puppets. His focus had been on physical force.
She assud he was weak where she excelled.
She assud wrong.
The needle quivered violently between them as their ntal energies collided—silver pressure pushing forward, golden resistance pushing back.
"You—" Vashka’s breath hitched, disbelief rising in her voice. "You’re... a spirit master too?! Who... What are you?!"
Her ntal pressure doubled. The needle surged forward a hair’s breadth.
A milliter from his skin—
In such a dire mont, Ery finally stopped holding back.
His battlefield domain erupted.
Space itself tightened around him like an invisible fortress. The crimson needle, which had been trembling less than a hair’s breadth from his forehead, suddenly froze mid-air, suspended and locked in place as if trapped in solid crystal.
Vashka’s expression drained of all color.
"Two... two cosmos..."
Her voice cracked with disbelief.
Even with his domain fully unleashed, Ery could only halt the needle’s advance; the two forces remained locked in place.
Fortunately, he still had one last hidden key.
He whispered softly,
"It’s your turn now."
Suddenly, a shadow rippled. A female figure with curved, spiraling horns erged beside Vashka like a ghost slipping out of thin air, her massive scythe already swinging in a destructive arc.
Vashka’s eyes widened.
"NO!!"
She managed to muster a fragnt of power to block the strike, but that desperate effort disrupt her ntal focus.
Ery smile, and space constricted.
The crimson needle snapped backward with the force of a reversed tidal wave
Piercing straight between Vashka eyebrows.
A choked gasp escaped her lips.
Then—
BOOMM—
Her forehead exploded in a spray of red and silver light.
Vashka, grand magus of two cosmos, puppet expert feared across the region,was defeated.
User Comments
0 comments from readers