Chapter 574
The duel between Bermude and Phantasus.
It was as if they were watching the very end of the world unfold.
Azure and crimson energies clashed and tangled wildly, lightning struck from the skies, hail pelted down, and even following the flow of battle became nearly impossible.
The longer it went on, the fiercer the battle grew, expanding the battlefield’s range. Soon the ruins of the Tower of Time—and even the city itself—were submerged by flooding waters.
Nearby single-story buildings were inundated; wreckage, park benches, and shattered street lamps floated adrift.
Bermude’s lava cooled in the waters, spreading across the ground to form ridges and sometimes even solidifying into islands.
And yet, what was most remarkable was Phantasus. Even amidst this mad war—
‘He’s rescuing people?’
The guards of the Tower of Time, the scholars, the invited guests, people who should all have drowned as the waters rose.
But while fighting the Master of the Ivory Tower, Phantasus wielded water-attribute sorcery to ferry over a thousand people to safety. Around them, unconscious victims rode the waves he had summoned.
“As the Ivory Tower’s Master, I fight by burning away my very life! Where would I find the luxury to save people?”
With a gesture, Bermude summoned a torrent of lava from his magic circle like a furnace.
“That is my will.”
Phantasus swept his arm, conjuring a tidal wave to repel the onslaught.
“I did not come here to fight. I came to save lives.”
“If that is your ego as a necromancer, then I must respect it. For it is also the root of your strength. But of course—”
Bermude made a lifting gesture with his palm.
“I hope you will forgive me for using that against you.”
KRASH!
From the waterlogged ruins, lightning poured down in volleys. Then came a deluge of volcanic ejecta, forcing Phantasus to focus even more on controlling the waves carrying survivors.
The irony was sharp: the Master of the Ivory Tower sought to slaughter his people, while one from Keyzen struggled desperately to protect them.
The two titans’ battle only grew more ferocious.
With a sharp intake of breath, Phantasus closed the distance.
Riding a wave at 500 km/h, he slipped behind Bermude in an instant, brushing past his back.
<Phantasus’ Original – Sleep>
It seemed like a fleeting graze, but in that instant Phantasus had touched Bermude three times, stacking a full 3 stacks.
‘He won!’
Simon, watching from afar, clenched his fist.
A 3-stack from Senior Phantasus at full strength. No human could possibly withstand that.
But Bermude only smiled faintly.
“Impressive. As last year’s number one recruitment candidate from Keyzen, I was thoroughly briefed on your specialty.”
Lava surged once more from Bermude’s body, cloaking him entirely.
“Even among necromancers, affinities exist. Your ‘Sleep’ is a poor match against me.”
Phantasus’ face wavered as he stood atop the waters.
“No… it can’t be.”
“Why do you think—having mastered ten thousand spells—I chose lava as my mainstay?”
Boiling lava cascaded down his shoulders, covering him in molten agony.
“My body is shielded from the lava’s destruction, but the pain—I keep. Each and every cell of me is aflame, consumed by agony.”
Behind him, volcanoes taller than before erupted skyward.
“My ego is Pain. The more I suffer, the stronger I become.”
KRAAASH!
The heavens blackened with storm clouds, split by a rain of volcanic boulders of apocalyptic scale, akin to the ancient spell Meteor. Phantasus barely raised a tidal bulwark in time.
“Your ‘Sleep’ is not a true curse. It doesn’t force sleep, it simply makes the victim drowsy, lulling them to slumber. But for one immersed in infinite agony—”
Bermude raised his arms, and countless faint magic circles spread across the distant heavens.
“—there is no room for drowsiness.”
CRRRRRACK!
Now came darkness-element lightning.
Phantasus erected defense circles and shifted about, but dodging the falling volcanic rocks left him vulnerable, lightning tracked him and struck, blasting him beneath the waves.
“Senior Phantasus!”
Simon shouted—but lightning fell upon him as well, forcing him to leap aside with Darkness as footing.
From a tree branch, Serne sneered.
“Pathetic. Can’t even finish off a half-dead father.”
“That’s the Master of the Ivory Tower! And the affinity is against him, we can’t help it!”
A curse-specialist built around Sleep now forced to fight with it sealed away
and meanwhile, Bermude kept his gaping stomach wound unhealed, sustaining it with magic only to convert the pain into power.
Phantasus’ Sleep—resistant even to curse resistance and unbreakable by Cancellation—was all but useless against Bermude’s pain-forged will.
But then—
“Hahahaha! Worry not, junior! Serne, you too!”
With a splash, Phantasus surfaced nearby, unscathed.
“That mechanism was a shock, but! I still hold a trump card!”
“A trump card?”
“Indeed!”
Phantasus grinned back at them.
“And that trump card—is you two!”
With that, he bent his knees and hurled himself forward, shattering the sea in a colossal spray.
Serne groaned.
“Ugh, what a pain. Running into such a useless senior.”
Simon, however, smiled faintly as he lifted the Greatsword of Destruction. Some strength had returned to his arms.
“The chance is coming. Don’t miss it.”
* * *
SSSHHHH!
The clash raged on without pause.
Phantasus darted across waves, hurling curses, but Bermude countered with chained Cancellations, pressing him with overwhelming four-elemental wide-area magic.
“Dragging this out will not make me self-destruct.”
Bermude’s voice was calm.
“All you achieve is waiting out your futile Sleep’s duration—”
BOOOOM!
Suddenly, Phantasus’ waves accelerated. Twin surges rose around him—five times faster than before.
‘I lost him!’
He’d deliberately dragged the fight out, letting Bermude grow accustomed to a slower pace, all to strike at this opening.
Twin waves closed in from both sides.
Bermude judged calmly: Phantasus must be in one of them, for Sleep or combat—he had to close the gap.
‘Left first.’
He extended his right hand, activating a pre-set magic circle. Lava flared, ready to obliterate the wave.
SSSHING!
The wave split first.
CRAAASH!
The very world seemed to split with it—Bermude’s eyes widened.
His right arm was flying skyward.
‘A slash?!’
Far away, Simon could be seen gasping for breath, swinging the Greatsword of Destruction. The waves had only been a distraction.
SSSHHHHH!
The one remaining surge swept forward, circling around to Bermude’s exposed right side—where his arm had just been severed. And within that wave—
was Phantasus.
‘Futile.’
This time, Bermude calmly traced his left index finger.
CRACK!
A magic circle etched itself into his abdomen, launching a glacier’s spear straight through Phantasus’ body.
SHRRRRRRRIP!
But in the instant of impact, Phantasus’ form dissolved into a flurry of white feathers.
“…!”
[How many times are you going to fall for this, Father~?]
Serne’s voice drifted from the scattering feathers.
[It wasn’t coincidence that you thought I died on the 100th floor. I studied your perception patterns and detection habits every single day—just to fool you.]
RUMBLE!
The true strike came from below.
From the surface where Bermude floated, Phantasus surged upward from the depths.
[And for the record—the smile I wore in front of you all that time? It was an illusion. I was grimacing the whole while.]
Bermude’s eyes widened.
“Ser—!”
BOOOOM!
A colossal geyser erupted, hurling Bermude skyward. And above him—
SSHHHHH—!
Waited a staff, complete with eyes and mouth, stirring up sand as it stood in his path. Bermude’s vision was buried in a sweeping veil of sand.
“Everyone… it begins now.”
Simon, now clad in golden raiment, raised his hand.
<Herseba’s Original – World of Sand>
WHOOOOOOSH—!
Bermude opened his eyes.
A barren desert stretched beneath a vast blue sky.
“What a peculiar power.”
He muttered, glancing around.
“So, they’ve trapped me in a dungeon.”
But then sandstorms rose on three fronts—and Simon, Serne, and at last Phantasus, all appeared within the World of Sand.
“Splendid teamwork, Simon and Serne!”
Phantasus said, surveying their prison.
“And I quite like this arena. At last, I can fight without worrying about bystanders.”
“Then that’s a relief…”
[Wait a minute! Kid, what have you done?!]
Herseba’s voice rang through Simon’s mind.
[You give me this pitiful scrap of Darkness and expect me to work miracles? I can’t even summon Mirra properly like this!]
‘Sorry… this is my limit for now. How long can you hold it?’
[Five minutes. No more.]
Simon looked uneasily at Phantasus.
“How long can it last?”
Phantasus seemed to sense the truth as well. Simon admitted quietly:
“Five minutes.”
“Hahaha! That’s more than enough!”
Phantasus burst out laughing and then promptly plopped down on the ground.
“Then I’ll be taking a nap!”
“Senior—?”
And just like that, he lolled his head back and began to doze.
“Wait—! That’s far too reckless—”
SHHHHH!
In a blink, Bermude lunged across the sand, face-to-face with the slumbering Phantasus.
“I’ll never allow you to sleep!”
His lone left arm flared, covered in layered magic circles, thrusting toward Phantasus’ face.
CLANG!
A white blade intercepted him.
KANG!
Simon’s Greatsword of Destruction smashed into Bermude’s arm, knocking it aside. In the same moment, the magic circles etched upon his arm shattered under the clash.
‘How?! He was on the verge of death, wracked by Temporal Overdrive itself—how does he still…!’
Snarling, Bermude leapt back.
“Do not interfere, Legion Commander!”
WHUM! WHUM! WHUM! WHUM! WHUM!
Behind him, massive arrays unfolded, blazing with magma, ice, and lightning.
Simon steeled his face, hoisting the greatsword.
“Die.”
WHUM! WHUM! WHUM! WHUM! WHUM!
But now behind Simon as well, magic circles unfurled.
“Oh my~”
Serne approached, lazily fluttering her feathers like a fan.
“That won’t do.”
Together, Bermude and Serne spread their arms wide. Dozens of colossal circles detonated, spewing elemental sorcery in every direction.
A true pageant of elements—the signature of Ivory Tower necromancers: a massive blast of Darkness-Elemental magic.
‘Whoa…!’
Simon smiled faintly in awe.
‘We just neutralized the Ivory Tower Master’s attack head-on?’
“Insolence!”
Bermude roared, shrouded anew in lava. Triple the number of circles from before began to form.
“Die—!”
But the moment he moved his arm—he sensed it.
His arm was heavy.
And…
‘Moisture?’
He had only swept his arm through the air, yet water clung to it.
Phantasus’ black magic was already complete.
[It begins.]
<Phantasus’ Original – Lost in a Dream>
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