Even though Wes Elwin wielded astonishing physical strength, it paled before Makarov's transcendent, almost saint-like body.
When their fists collided, Wes's stone fist shattered instantly, exploding into fragments like a shower of meteorites and kicking up a cloud of dust.
Makarov didn't give him a moment to breathe. His massive hand opened, reaching to seize Wes whole.
Facing such pressure, Wes refused to yield as he let out a roar.
His roar echoed across the battlefield as the flames around him abruptly changed—no longer ordinary fire, but writhing black ghostflame, eerie and powerful. Even the air around him distorted from its heat, as though the gates of hell were opening and releasing a wave of ominous energy.
Realizing how dangerous that dark flame was, Makarov immediately changed tactics.
His grasping hand withdrew in an instant, replaced by a powerful palm strike launched into the air.
The strike carried the force of his lifetime of mastery. A violent gust surged forth like a tornado, sweeping toward the black flames in an attempt to scatter them.
The resulting blast tore up the ground itself, sending dirt and stone flying and plunging the battlefield into even deeper chaos.
Their fight had already reached its boiling point—each move could determine the outcome.
Makarov's overwhelming strength and Wes's relentless ingenuity clashed spectacularly.
They stood opposite each other, muscles tense, neither daring to let his guard down.
Even in such intense confrontation, Makarov had to admit inwardly:
(Just how many kinds of magic does this kid know?)
Despite his expectations, Wes's endless versatility continued to shock him.
On Wes's side, he couldn't help but think: This old man's body sure isn't one of a seventy-plus geezer.
"Sandstorm!"
With Wes's shout, the ground beneath him began to crack open as if it had come alive. Moisture was sucked rapidly out of the soil by some mysterious force, turning dirt into fine sand.
The grains accumulated, expanded—and within a forest, a wide expanse of desert was born out of thin air.
A raging wind rose, carrying sand and debris, engulfing the entire battlefield in a sudden tempest.
The two stood opposite each other, surprise flickering in their eyes but without a hint of fear. The true battle was only beginning.
The winds howled. Sand bullets whipped through the air, forcing Makarov to raise a hand to shield his eyes, his vision almost completely obstructed.
"Hmph! You think such petty tricks can fool me? Even with my eyes closed, I can still sense exactly where you are!"
"Oh? Then let's see you handle this!" Wes's voice drifted through the storm.
The moment he finished speaking, Makarov felt the ground beneath his feet give way—his left leg suddenly sinking into the sand.
"Quicksand!" he realized instantly.
A powerful suction pulled from below, trying to swallow him whole. His massive body, usually an advantage in battle, now became a liability as the quicksand dragged him down bit by bit.
Swarms of holy beetles released by Wes surged forward like a looming black cloud, blanketing Makarov's entire body until he looked as if he were wrapped in a thick black veil.
Each beetle greedily gnawed at his flesh.
But Wes didn't dare relax for even a moment.
"No way an old monster like him gets taken down this easily!"
BOOM!
A burst of dazzling golden light suddenly exploded from within the mass of beetles. Countless holy beetles were vaporized in an instant, leaving only the charred smell lingering in the air.
A huge crater appeared in the sand below. The sheer heat had melted the sand into transparent, glass-like material that shimmered with golden reflections.
Rising slowly from the crater was Makarov, restored to his true form. Golden light still radiated from him, making him look like a war god descending to earth.
"Heheh… far too naive!"
Makarov's laughter echoed through the air. He quickly formed a series of intricate hand signs.
"Rain of Light!"
A massive golden magic circle materialized between his hands.
A heartbeat later, the circle fired a barrage of light arrows—countless beams as dense as raindrops—each carrying formidable power as they shot toward Wes.
Wes raised his hand. A towering wall of sand formed immediately, but the light arrows pierced it effortlessly.
"Mirror Reversal!"
The instant Wes spoke, the arrows that broke through were suddenly repelled by an invisible force, scattering in every direction.
Trees were pierced clean through, crumbling into splinters. Chaos spread everywhere.
But Wes stood completely unharmed, encased within two colossal hands made entirely of sand.
"Kid's got quite a toolbox."
"Right back at you."
Wes responded coolly. With a flick of his wand, the sand hands swung down like giant fly swatters, slamming toward Makarov.
BAM!
Makarov dodged with surprising agility, but the sand field erupted—countless sandy arms shot up from the ground, grasping at him.
He moved like a tiny boat tossed about on a stormy sea, but after a single misstep, one sandy hand smacked him to the ground. Immediately, an avalanche of sand poured over him, burying him completely.
Mysterious runes appeared across the surface of the sand. Wes intended to seal Makarov in one decisive stroke.
But as the runes appeared, the entire ground began to shake violently—so violently that even the forest trembled.
Beams of golden light shot up from underground. The runes dissolved.
Makarov's form rose from beneath the earth, radiating an overwhelming magical aura that shattered everything around him.
"Boy… to force me this far, you should be proud."
Makarov pressed his palms together, preparing his final strike—
"Light Burst."
With his shout, a massive wave of light surged toward Wes, its sheer power making even the air tremble.
Wes gathered every ounce of his magic into his wand. A concentrated sphere of blinding white light formed at its tip.
As the wave approached, he thrust the wand forward. A streak of white light shot out like a meteor, colliding head-on with Makarov's ultimate attack.
The two forces met in midair with a thunderous roar, unleashing a blinding explosion that tore the battlefield apart.
For a moment, the radiant flash outshone even the sun. The shockwave flattened the forest entirely, leaving behind a massive, bottomless crater.
Smoke and dust filled the air as silence slowly returned.
"Cough… cough…"
Makarov waved his arm to clear the dust, but no matter where he looked—
Wes Elwin was nowhere to be seen.
°°°
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