WereGarurumon was down on one knee, its sharp claws digging deep into the rock face.
Veins bulged on its forehead, and a suppressed, low growl escaped its throat. Its pupils reflected a constantly twisting scene.
Misty Abyss of Slumber was a spell that forced targets within its range into a deep sleep; even the future S-Class Erza wouldn't be able to withstand it.
Phantasmagoria was an even more advanced form of this sleep magic.
"Grr... Roar..."
WereGarurumon's muscles tensed to their absolute limit, and the icy blue energy flowing over its body fluctuated violently as it tried to dispel the drowsiness clouding its mind.
But the magic had already invaded the depths of its spirit, clinging to it like a disease festering in the bone.
'Hold on, WereGarurumon!' Ace's voice, transmitted through their mental link, was like a lighthouse piercing through dense fog, echoing in its consciousness again and again.
'I believe in you! I believe in the bond we've forged! do not fall here!'
Lisanna hid behind a distant stone pillar, hands clasped tightly to her chest, her face pale.
She could see WereGarurumon's painful struggle and feel its chaotic aura surging and plummeting, but she was powerless to intervene in a confrontation of this level.
Mystogan stood quietly twenty meters away, his two remaining staves floating by his sides, their tips glowing faintly.
Beneath his mask, his gaze was calm and ripple-free, as if he were merely observing an experiment.
Once Phantasmagoria was cast, unless he actively dispelled it or the victim possessed extremely high mental resistance, they would eventually sink into the depths of the dream world, their consciousness dissipating until they lost the ability to fight.
"Is this... the limit?" he murmured.
WereGarurumon's willpower had exceeded his expectations, but under the continuous corrosion of Phantasmagoria, its defeat was only a matter of time.
He hadn't intended to be so heavy-handed, but the rules of the examination required S-Class hunters to eliminate the candidates.
He raised his right hand.
The two staves sensed the summons and flew into his grasp.
Holding a staff in each hand, he slowly traced an arcane trajectory in front of him.
With each stroke, a faint golden magical sigil was left in the air, linking together to form the prototype of a three-dimensional Magic Circle.
"Five-Layered Magic Circle: Mikagura." He softly intoned its true name.
Five overlapping Magic Circles simultaneously appeared in front of him, behind him, above him, and to his left and right.
They rotated slowly, emitting a sacred and majestic aura.
At the center of the circles, light began to gather and compress, faintly aiming at WereGarurumon, who was still resisting the magical pressure.
This attack was not a killing blow, but a powerful sealing and forced-slumber barrier.
The five overlapping circles would produce pillars of light to seal the opponent, causing the victim to fall into an even deeper sleep until the examination was over.
"Let me end your suffering."
Mystogan crossed his staves and pointed forward.
The five-layered circle flared with brilliant light.
Five gentle yet irresistible pillars were about to erupt and converge into a beam of sealing light to envelop WereGarurumon.
"No!" Lisanna cried out in alarm.
Just as the pillars of light were about to burst forth—
"Lion Wave Slash."
A cry, steady as a rock yet filled with the will to sever all things, exploded from behind and to the side of Mystogan.
A figure tore through the air at a speed that surpassed visual limits, closing in on Mystogan's flank.
The figure didn't pounce; instead, at the apex of its charge, it violently twisted its body and swung its arm.
Its right arm, covered in white gauntlets engraved with battle markings, slashed horizontally.
A highly compressed, solidified golden energy blade erupted from the seams of the gauntlet, tearing through the air with a high-frequency hum.
It carried the resolute force to shatter steel and break magic as it slashed toward Mystogan.
GrapLeomon.
After lurking, observing, and waiting for the perfect moment, it had unleashed an ultimate move that its Leomon form never possessed—Lion Wave Slash, a strike that compressed all its fighting spirit into a single point of explosive power.
This attack abandoned the area-of-effect and imposing aura of the "Beast King Fist" in pursuit of ultimate speed, penetration, and magic-breaking effects.
Mystogan's full attention was focused on maintaining the five-layered circle and suppressing WereGarurumon.
His perception of his surroundings had been slightly delayed by the continuous casting of Mikagura.
By the time he sensed the terrifyingly sharp aura approaching from his side and rear, the energy blade was already upon him.
"Wha—?!"
In his haste, Mystogan only had time to block with the staff in his left hand while desperately twisting his body to the side and diverting some of the magic maintaining the circle into a protective barrier.
Clang—Screech!
The energy blade struck the staff, creating a blinding shower of sparks.
The staff let out a pained cry as if unable to bear the load, and cracks appeared on its surface.
The remaining force of the energy blade tore through the hastily erected magic barrier and slashed viciously into Mystogan.
"Pfft!"
Mystogan grunted as if struck by a heavy blow, stumbling and flying sideways.
He crashed heavily into a stone pillar, blood seeping from under his mask.
The staff in his left hand slipped from his grasp and clattered to the ground.
The five-layered Magic Circle maintained by his right hand flickered violently as its caster was injured and the magic supply cut off.
It then shattered with a boom, and the unreleased sealing pillars dissipated into countless specks of light.
"Did... did it work?" Lisanna covered her mouth in disbelief.
Ace also let out a long sigh of relief, cold sweat drenching his back.
That was close.
GrapLeomon's stealth and surprise attack were timed to perfection.
As expected of a battle-hardened Ultimate-level Digimon!
"Cough, cough..."
Mystogan propped himself up against the stone pillar.
His robes at his waist were slashed open, revealing a cut on the skin beneath so deep that bone was visible.
However, a faint golden energy swirled around the wound's edge, slowly preventing it from worsening and stopping the bleeding.
He looked up at the golden figure that had suddenly appeared, and for the first time, clear shock appeared in the eyes behind his mask.
'It was a... lion? No, a lion-man.'
But unlike ordinary beastmen, its entire body was covered in a lean "battle suit" that seemed to be a fusion of metal and biological tissue.
Its lines were fluid, exuding a sense of power and technology.
The main body was white, adorned with golden battle markings, and its gauntlets, knee guards, and combat boots were sharply designed.
Most striking were its eyes—no longer the majestic and righteous eyes of Leomon, but the absolute focus and sharpness of a martial artist, as if they could see through the flaws in any movement.
'Another powerful Summoned Beast? And it seems... to be on a completely different type from that werewolf-form Summoned Beast? Its power, speed, and fighting style are all different...'
A storm brewed in Mystogan's heart.
How old was this boy? To be able to command two such powerful Summoned Beasts, both with clearly independent consciousnesses, at the same time?
This had completely surpassed the scope of the summoning magic system.
Could it be... that he really came from some unknown parallel world with a completely different power system?
His ultimate move had been forcefully interrupted, and he had taken a solid hit from the Lion Wave Slash.
Mystogan's magic circulation fell into a brief state of disarray, and his aura weakened a notch.
But he was an S-Class Mage, after all, with extremely rich combat experience.
He instantly suppressed his injuries and shock, his eyes regaining their calm.
"It seems... I underestimated you." His voice was still calm, but now held a trace of gravity.
His only remaining staff floated before him as he began to rapidly mobilize his magic to repair his injuries and stabilize his aura.
On the other side, WereGarurumon seized the opportunity.
Aided by its own wild will and the continuous mental support from Ace, it let out a roar that pierced the clouds and shattered stone.
It shot to its feet, its eyes bloodshot and its breathing heavy.
It was clearly exhausted, but its fighting spirit burned even more ferociously, like a fire doused in fuel.
"ROOOAR!"
It looked at Mystogan, then at GrapLeomon, and let out a low growl—a sound of both thanks and a declaration to fight side-by-side.
GrapLeomon gave a slight nod, and together with WereGarurumon, they took up positions on the left and right, vaguely forming a pincer formation.