The enormous luminous figure wrapped in chaos remained tethered to the blazing golden sun, never breaking free.
"It" was firmly restrained, like the hidden impulses and madness buried deep within many hearts—though present and impossible to ignore, they remained confined under the dam of reason and humanity in normal circumstances.
Moreover, the chaotic luminous figure formed from the sun's dark patches descended from the astral world into the depths of the special mirror world without impacting the blazing golden sun's efforts to maintain the invisible barrier against the crimson round moon.
Instead, the sun burned brighter, more intensely, and with greater sanctity.
At this moment, abstract concepts representing "gaze" and "observation" emerged within the astral world, all directed at the radiant golden sun.
The sun, illuminating the astral world and the entire world, remained unmoved, as if silently responding: Once, I betrayed myself.
Later, I spent over two millennia wrestling and contending with another version of myself. Finally, I achieved a temporary victory, reached a balance, and made Him serve me, while I remained who I am.
Now, I am betting everything.
Letting my allies bee the Origins of Disaster, the Calamity of Destruction is my only chance to secure ultimate victory and avert the apocalypse!
Whether or not this succeeds, whether or not it leads to a tragic end, I will give it my all.
I would rather break than yield!
The colossal luminous figure cloaked in chaos enveloped all of The Fool's manifestations in the special mirror world, relentlessly pursuing His Blinking, preventing him from approaching Lumian at the speed of light and with immense energy.
One was manipulated, misled. One was Fooled, Grafted. Neither had any attention to spare for Lumian.
On the other side of the special mirror world, the Primordial Demoness retreated, Her black hair still thrashing in the air like a writhing cluster of serpents. Her breathtakingly beautiful face twisted into a new allure that had yet to fully unfold, still resisting some invisible force.
Nearby, the mirrored Empress Roselle silently watched, refraining from intervening.
She could not defy the will of the mirrored Creator, also known as the Primordial Demoness, Cheek. She could only hope the ensuing catastrophe would not lead to the plete collapse and destruction of the special mirror world.
For Her, unable to leave this place yet, such an oute would be a death sentence.
As for Zaratul, who had previously hidden here, He had already fled, returning to Castle Dylan.
Lumian felt a surge of violent, cruel, twisted, and pathological thoughts emanating from the left side of his body. Like a relentless tsunami, they battered his mind and will, attempting to plete his assimilation.
From his right side came deathly silence, sadness, pain, and despair—emotions just as overwhelming and now spilling over into his consciousness.
These conflicting forces resonated with Lumian's current state to varying degrees, on the verge of blending into one another and bringing about the inevitable descent into plete madness.
In his blurred vision, silhouettes flashed by, beams of light flared up and dimmed again, all being indistinct.
Suddenly, a voice switching between near and far echoed in his ears: "My wish is:
"Lumian Lee can maintain moments of clarity, rationality, and humanity each day."
Destiny was sealed; madness was unavoidable. Even a Miracle Invoker could not fully reverse it. The only option was to exploit loopholes and lower the difficulty of the wish, allowing Lumian to oscillate between madness and clarity.
Nothing dictated that inevitable madness precluded occasional moments of lucidity!
As for how "occasional" was defined, that would be left to Fooling and Error to decide.
Lumian's blurry vision suddenly sharpened. The pain and fury still wrecked his body, but his thoughts and perceptions were no longer clouded.
He saw a vast array of figurines materialize ahead of him. Each wore uniquely colored metal armor, their faces sculpted with uncanny precision. Towering over ten meters tall, they marched in formation like a vast army.
Lumian also saw the figurines encircling Red Angel Medici. The King of Angels had revealed His Mythical Creature form, posed of deep violet, almost blood-colored, nearly invisible flames, steel-like bones, plex terrifying symbols, and bloodstained black armor.
Between His brow, a blood-red sigil shaped like a banner was prominently raised, vivid and dripping.
Medici had pleted His sacrificial ritual in advance, summoning the aid of the essence of war.
The head on Lumian's left shoulder, adorned with the bizarre dark-golden mask, suddenly turned. The face resembling Alista Tudor now directly faced Medici.
The blood-red sigil between the brows of this face similarly protruded, surrounded by indescribable dark symbols that seemed to herald ultimate chaos.
He sneered with disdain and mockery, as if saying to Medici: "You coward, fancy seeing you here. Ready to be devoured by me again?"
Lumian then fully manifested his Mythical Creature form and drew a simple longsword from the Traveler's Bag that had fallen to the ground, untouched by prior chaos.
The longsword rapidly enlarged, matching his towering frame of over thirty meters.
It ignited with black flames, embodying destruction and madness.
Medici raised His own flaming greatsword. The two fiery giants clashed with a resounding boom.
Almost simultaneously, the soldiers of the Red of War legion raised their arms, leaning back slightly.
Their eyes burned iron-black, reflecting the pale markings on Lumian's body. In their hands, spears of deep violet, almost blood-colored, flames materialized.
They could simultaneously share all of Red Angel Medici's abilities and spirituality!
Swoosh! Swoosh! Swoosh!
While Medici intercepted Lumian, a forest of flame-spears shot out, dense enough to obscure the sky.
Each spear targeted the vulnerable points on Lumian's body.
The masked head on Lumian's left shoulder turned once more.
This time, the maternal and radiant face of the Demoness of Apocalypse, Cheek, faced Red Angel Medici.
The face smiled sweetly, causing Medici's movements to slow slightly, and the deluge of blood-colored flame-spears to falter, as if held back by reluctance.
Next, Lumian's body grew illusory and layered, like projections from countless mirrors.
Rumble!
Countless flame-spears pierced through his body, triggering violent explosions that annihilated every projection in an instant.
Lumian's figure reemerged on the other side.
Red Angel Medici gave him no respite, transforming into a blazing et of deep violet, blood-like flames, hurtling toward Lumian in a flash.
The soldiers of the Red of War legion followed suit, turning into similar flaming ets, roaring down from every direction with unstoppable force, using area-of-effect attacks to bypass the interference of the Fog of War.
As a King of Angels, Medici enabled His soldiers to share His rank. In this moment, it was as if nearly a hundred Red Angels were simultaneously attacking Lumian.
This was one of Medici's most potent abilities. Its only drawback was the massive expenditure of spirituality.
Effectively, it pressed what could have been a prolonged battle into a single, overwhelming burst, trading time for spatial dominance.
As an ancient King of Angels, Medici knew that the Eternal Blazing Sun could not delay much longer. Victory had to be swift, so He began with an all-or-nothing gambit.
Outside the special mirror world, Amon, wearing a monocle and pointed soft hat, took no further action, playing the role of a true spectator.
Neither obstructing nor aiding,
His expression remained unchanged as He bit into a red apple He had somehow stolen.
Faced with the flaming ets descending from every direction, Lumian did not retreat. His eyes burned with madness and battle lust.
He growled, for the second time today, invoking the aid of the City of Calamity.
The iron-black bones interwoven into his body and etched with plex symbols and patterns suddenly developed fine cracks. The violet-red flames roaring over them deepened in hue, taking on a bloodier shade.
Clad in pitch-black armor marred with bloodstains, he ignored the other fiery ets and locked onto the one transformed from Red Angel Medici, swinging his increasingly immense and terrifying Sword of Destruction.
Boom!
Deep violet and crimson flames scattered in all directions, forming a storm that engulfed the surroundings.
The explosion, imbued with destructive energy, left visible cracks in the depths of the special mirror world, rendering it precariously close to shattering.
Amid the roiling flames, the figure of Red Angel Medici emerged, a deep wound carved across His chest and abdomen, from which flowed flames so dark that even their depth seemed erased.
Lumian was in an even more dire state. His bloodstained black armor was tattered, and the iron-black bones intertwined with intricate patterns and symbols were heavily damaged and fractured. The deep purple, blood-hued flames barely clung to him, a faint layer that seemed ready to be extinguished by a passing breeze.
Shards of glass were scattered around him, remnants of his mirror self, which had suffered devastating destruction.
Lumian grinned, his smile bold and unrestrained.
He suddenly plunged the battered Sword of Destruction into the ground.
The already strained area collapsed with a thunderous crash, disintegrating entirely.
As the region crumbled, Lumian plunged into the chaotic flow of time and space, descending into darkness.
With his body undergoing new birth, he waved at the similarly falling Medici and the Red of War legion, his smile seemingly asking, "Care to join me? In the chaos of time and space, teams tend to get scattered, you know."
The Red Angel whistled in response, as if to say, "I can handle this on my own."
The two had no time for further interaction. The silent, perilous storm of space-time swept in, separating them instantly.
umian plummeted downward at great speed, using his Teleportation ability to evade the most dangerous zones.
He could no longer sense the outside world and had no means of escaping this place directly.
In a blink of an eye—or perhaps longer—Lumian landed before a massive, half-collapsed palace ablaze with invisible and colorless flames.
The depths of the special mirror world led to Fourth Epoch Trier.
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