'The
Primal Inscription
's
Magic Inscription Liberation
.
Creation of magic. A miraculous divine act. To achieve it, he reached out toward the countless fragments of magic swirling around him—
"Gu—"
—The world flooded into him.
An overwhelming volume of information, so immense it felt like an illusion. His mind overflowed in an instant, consciousness flickering and thoughts sputtering out.
He tried to maintain his sanity and focus, but new information poured in without end, granting him no respite.
This is why
the Primal Inscription
seals away its true essence during normal times.
Even Ermes, so accustomed to magic, was reduced to this. If someone who had only just learned of it were to use this Liberation, their brain would burn out instantly and they would die.
No—even for Ermes, there was no guarantee he wouldn't suffer the same fate in the next instant. Such was the sheer volume, the violent flood of knowledge.
From within it, he had to pick out only the appropriate elements and piece them together. Like finding grains of sand of a specific shape in a desert—repeated tens of thousands of times over. The scale of the task was incomprehensible. He felt utterly incapable of it—
(...calm... down...)
He understood well enough that he had not yet reached the level where he could wield this power.
Don't try to do everything. Set the proper objective, and focus your consciousness only on the mechanism you need right now.
(Don't... try to create something from nothing.)
Of course, that would be the ideal outcome, but blindly fixating on it and charging headlong would make him no different from Aster.
The boundary between ideal and reality was now the signpost across an infinitely expanding world of wisdom.
Following it, he advanced and set his first objective—what kind of magic should he create?
(First, what's absolutely necessary is destructive power. The greatest yet—pure firepower capable of piercing through that defense.)
—Then, '
Fire Heaven Judgment
'.
Aster had wielded it far too crudely, but now that he'd succeeded in reproducing it, he understood. Used properly, in terms of sheer power alone, this spell was on par with, or even exceeded, the '
Meteor Throne
' in limited applications.
He would extract only that element from the spell and set it as the core of what he was building. That much, he could do.
(But it still wasn't enough. With my current magic power output alone, no matter how I built it, I couldn't achieve the destructive force I wanted.
I'd have to draw power from somewhere else—
—)
—Then, '
Netherworld of Salvation
'.
That spell had succeeded in borrowing power by connecting to the netherworld, achieving high performance with minimal magic power consumption. The proof was that Katya, who had thrown herself into the fiercest battles nonstop, still hadn't run dry.
If he could apply that technique successfully and repurpose it—not for defense, but for amplifying destructive power—there was no reason he couldn't do it.
(But then the question is how to combine those two. To seamlessly merge two spells of entirely different natures...)
──Then,
the Magic Bullet Archer.
.
The essence of that spell was enchantment. In other words, it was a spell specialized in layering other spells onto a spell.
Using it as a so-called "binder" seemed like it would fit perfectly. The physical firepower boost from the propulsion should be considerable as well.
(To prevent the force from dispersing, I'll coat it with the winds of the
Four Winds of the Heavenly Demon.
Then, couldn't I bolster the soul's power with the
Messenger of the Faceless?
If I adapt the
Seamless Great Eagle,
it could help with control too——)
That's the combination.
Ideally, he'd create a spell from scratch. But the reality was that all he could do was reproduce existing spells.
So he'd draw the line there. Extract elements from existing reproducible spells and combine them into something new.
All the beautiful spells he'd seen until now. Crystals of radiant wishes.
Packing everything he'd encountered in the Royal Capital into this moment, he'd build a spell that was his alone.
(— damn it—)
Naturally, this was work that came with immense difficulty and pain.
The flood of knowledge pouring in showed no signs of stopping—in fact, its momentum was only intensifying.
Agonizing pain so severe his head felt like it would shatter into pieces. If he lost focus for even an instant, his thoughts would splinter apart and vanish into nothing.
Spell construction that could only be done under these conditions. Not every idea would work flawlessly.
Each time a flaw
and
a retry
forced his hands to stop, the mounting dread of failure froze his mind further and further.
In this place, that delay could prove fatal. The terror that the next mistake would end everything, the pain stretching into what felt like eternity—both gnawed away at his will to continue.
—and so, he clutched his feelings tight.
To keep himself from succumbing to the pain. To keep his eyes locked on a destination that threatened to blur from view, and to move his trembling hands to create what he desired.
Surely every person who had ever forged magic before him had overcome something equal to or greater than this.
That was precisely why those spells were so magnificent.
That was precisely why they reached him now with such overwhelming force it hurt.
And so—he too.
(—I want it)
He set his feelings ablaze.
(The power to protect something beautiful. The power to destroy everything that would take it away)
Could I become like them, too?
Have I grown capable of holding a wish as fierce as theirs?
(Because I can't stop here—not now—)
Believing so, wishing so.
Pushing through the pain, turning my thoughts onward.
Reaching out toward the luminous something glimpsed beyond that—and then.
"—I did it."
The instant I whispered those words with a sure sense of accomplishment, my consciousness returned from the world of wisdom to reality.
"..."
I quickly looked around.
Katia and Sarah—I found them right away. True to their word, they had endured Kerberos's fierce assault for the entire duration.
And there, directly in front of him—a sword.
A simple greatsword, vividly red-purple in color.
What I had envisioned was a sword from myth—one of the decisive weapons of the apocalyptic war said to have scorched the world nine times over, wielded by a giant king who converted the souls of his subordinates into power.
"
Technique Creation
—'
Ashen World Tree
'"
His magic—created by him.
The name of that sword became the magic's inscription. As if responding to the naming, the greatsword descended gently and settled into his hand.
"——haha"
I couldn't help but laugh.
"……What a crude magic."
A hastily assembled mess — magic elements plastered all over the outside in a desperate attempt to suppress that immense power. Not a shred of refinement; both the technique composition and the magic power circuits were a chaotic tangle, supremely inefficient.
It had no durability, no stability, and the magic power consumption was astronomically excessive. A defective product cobbled together with patches — it would be an insult to even compare it to those beautiful magics.
"——
But
,
this will do
"
Ugly, inefficient — but this was his magic. For now, let him rejoice in the simple fact that it had been created at all.
Besides.
His very first wish. The overwhelming power — that alone was firmly in his grasp, a tangible sensation he could feel.
If that was the case, then there was no problem. All that remained was to wield it.
With that resolve, he broke into a sprint.
……They had truly reached their limit by now.
The fact that they had managed to hold back Kerberos's relentless assault together until this point was nothing short of a miracle. Especially Sarah, who had been deemed more troublesome due to her recovery ability and had been targeted relentlessly — the toll on her had been devastating, and finally—
"Ah—!"
Unable to fend off the charge, the Spirit veil shattered. Kerberos, charging in with unstoppable momentum, collided with Sarah.
Even somewhat diminished, that was still an enormous mass. All the remaining force of the impact was stripped away, and she was blown away with no way to resist.
She landed right in the arms of Ermes, who had rushed over just in time.
"!? ...Ah"
"...I'm truly sorry to have kept you waiting. You held on well."
Sarah's eyes went wide in surprise, and then they grew moist as relief and all the terror she had endured came welling up.
But the next instant, seeing what he gripped in his right hand, shock overtook her face once more. She must have sensed it—the incomprehensible mass of power dwelling within.
"Leave the rest to me."
Having said only that, Ermes dashed off.
Only Katia remained. Having made that judgment, he charged at full speed toward Kerberos, who stood exulting in triumph, and raised his great sword high.
"!? —RROOOOAAAARRRRGGHH!"
Even Kerberos took notice at last, sensing the danger dwelling in Ermes's weapon as well.
Instinctively, its fur bristled, and the head on its right side let out an unusual sound.
After what was probably its own version of a Chant, what appeared was a red, translucent wall—a formidable barrier magic that had perfectly blocked even Ermes's full-powered
Meteor Throne—
but.
"...Break."
It didn't matter.
This magic was built with the express purpose of cutting right through barriers like that. In terms of power alone, it was in a completely different league from any magic before.
And, just as his declaration stated,
the great sword swept downward, easily slicing through the barrier magic, and then sank deep into Kerberos's body—once so impossibly tough.
To make matters worse, the very spot where the blade had cut erupted in flames, dealing the first truly devastating blow this battle had seen.
"!!? — RRRROOOOAAAARRRRN!!"
The first time he had ever heard Kerberos let out a genuine scream of pain, followed by a piercing shriek.
When it subsided—all six eyes locked squarely onto Ermes, holding nothing back.
What burned within them was an annihilating will suffused with rage, utterly distinct from the cold-blooded killing intent seen until now.
"...It seems"
Grasping its meaning with perfect clarity, Ermes murmured.
"You've finally acknowledged me as an enemy. What an honor. An unforgivable—yet beautiful killer."
Meeting all six gazes with his own jade-green eyes, carrying an equal measure of resolve.
The final battle had begun.