How could he possibly trust the words of such a cunning fellow? He ignored them and continued his probing attacks.
There was no way to force his opponent into a desperate situation this way, so why not simply do as he suggested and try [Sky Strike]?
Two contradictory thoughts clashed within Jibril's mind.
Honestly, she leaned toward the latter—not because of rationality, but because of some inexplicable feeling.
No. The latter wasn't rational at all. It was purely emotional.
Jibril stared at Arthur, and then realization dawned.
So that's it. Is this the enchanting curse on him?
Even as she recognized the irrationality of such thoughts—so utterly wrong, so unthinkable in battle—her own reason rebelled against them. Yet deep inside, a part of her resisted the truth.
Such a terrifying charm… To face it with hostility for long would sap one's will to fight. Eventually, it might even cripple the soul.
"It seems I've truly been underestimated. As you said, you're just as arrogant as my predecessors. Very well, I'll let you experience this, Flügel—"
Jibril smiled softly.
In an instant, her white wings and halo expanded, vast and intricate, while the shimmering motes of light that had surrounded her abruptly dimmed.
This was no simple enlargement.
This was the essence of the Flügel: draining every drop of spirit (magic power) within themselves and the environment, devouring even light itself, and raising their power to its absolute limit.
Jibril's face radiated rage like molten magma, yet she wore an angelic smile. Beneath it, however, pulsed a murderous intent far crueler than any demon's.
"That's—" Think's eyes widened.
That twisted, contradictory form was an unforgettable nightmare to the elves.
Even with the [Fourth Enduring Protection] prepared, the violent energy swelling like a dark sun still cast a shadow over his heart.
"[Sky Strike]!"
The voice fell like a final judgment.
The attack's range was so vast it could never be evaded by mere speed.
Almost instinctively, Think extended his hand, forming an unbreakable shield.
The chance to strike had already passed, but now… [Fourth Enduring Protection] should be enough to protect his master.
"Stop. Your only duty is to witness this. Yes, just watch—that is enough." Arthur spoke lightly, discarding the Holy Sword of the Stars and raising his arm.
At once, invisible energy radiated outward, centered on him.
That unseen matter seeped into every pore, and in an instant it pierced into [Sky Strike]. The titanic energy swelled again, unbelievably, as though strengthened.
To bolster the enemy's attack—what madness was this?
The answer came in the next heartbeat.
"Royal."
[Sky Strike] suddenly contracted, halting before Arthur.
From Think's perspective, it was as if Arthur had caught the attack with his bare hands and held it still, controlling it.
Impossible.
Absolutely impossible!
To withstand [Sky Strike] without injury—yes, such feats had precedent among the higher races. But to manipulate it? That was unthinkable. An elf compressed to such density became violently unstable, pure chaos incarnate.
Not even Jibril herself—or perhaps even the God of War—could tame energy compressed to that limit.
This wasn't a question of precision or technique anymore.
Arthur gazed coldly at the condensed [Sky Strike], now shrunken to the size of a spear, barely two meters long. He looked at Jibril with faint disappointment.
"That's it?"
Magical trait: Control.
As long as the energy was his, he could fully command it. By infusing his own magic into [Sky Strike]—even if only partially assimilating its spirit—he robbed it of volatility. No matter how violent or intense the force, it could never escape his grasp.
Shockingly, Jibril did not falter. She showed neither hesitation nor fear at witnessing this miracle.
Perhaps the Flügel simply lacked the capacity for fear.
Yet the smile on her lips betrayed something else entirely—not dread, but exhilaration. Having seen this sight, Jibril's heart brimmed with fierce delight.
"I anticipated this. Don't worry, that was my full strength. I can guarantee it."
Gracefully, she gathered her sash, as if lifting the hem of a skirt in a courtly bow.
Her energy exhausted by [Sky Strike], she had reverted into the form of a small girl.
Naturally so.
Though they were called a higher form of "life," the Flügel's simple structure was closer to a phenomenon than a living being.
Born of the God of War's craft, they were at their core magic, program, and artifice.
When energy waned, their form shrank accordingly.
"Really? Yet I'm still disappointed. In this state, you hardly seem combat-ready. The Skywing species are strong, and [Sky Strike] was impressive—but it was nothing more than a fleeting technique." Arthur shook his head.
"Oh, I think this will do just fine." Jibril smiled.
She still couldn't discern how he had done it. He hadn't taken [Sky Strike] head-on, nor dodged it. He had controlled it.
Then the attack hadn't been meaningless after all. It had, at least, threatened him. For though he had sworn not to dodge, he still had to wrestle with [Sky Strike]. Astonishing, yes—but such a method was demanding beyond measure. Surely, he couldn't do it again.
Yes… You are arrogant. More arrogant even than my sisters, than my predecessors. Is it your power? Or merely indulgence in violence that makes strength meaningless? I cannot say. But your arrogance will be your undoing.
If one strike fails, then use two.
No elves left?
No problem.
It had been done before. For a Flügel, whose very essence was magic, it was possible to extract energy from the brink of collapse and cast again.
To tear one's body apart, burning it into fuel, and shape the destruction into a final weapon.
"With two strikes, I will claim victory. This will be the end—I will take your head."
Shadows spread across the sky as energy surged anew.
——[Sky Strike]
"Hm. This really will be troublesome." Arthur exhaled. "Though magic is as instinctive to me as drinking water or breathing, a handful of experiments is hardly mastery. I can take one blow, but to endure two is impossible."
Helpless, he hid the [Sky Strike] already in his hand behind his back, cradling it like a treasure. Then he raised his other hand.
"Let's use this—[Avalon]."
On that day, the Flügel girl understood the true wickedness of human nature.
-End Chapter-
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