Gideon Ironmaw studied Arthur Nightingale with the kind of analytical precision that had served him well through countless battles, his burning eyes taking in every detail of his opponent’s stance and energy flow. The young man before him possessed a ridiculous level of strength for someone this young—not only had he killed the Axe King with apparent ease, but now he was able to challenge him.
That grey energy flowing around Arthur’s blade was particularly fascinating. It had effortlessly erased his miasma and the concept-infused mana from the Infernal Armis, cutting through forces that should have been absolute according to the artifact’s accumulated knowledge. When Gideon attempted to analyze the energy more deeply, pain spiked through his skull like his brain was being torn apart at the molecular level.
’Incomprehensible,’ he realized with genuine surprise, even drawing upon the vast repository of knowledge that the Infernal Armis had accumulated over millennia. That power existed beyond his ability to understand, operating according to principles that transcended conventional magical theory. The artifact itself seemed to recoil from the Grey, as though even its divine-level consciousness found the energy fundamentally wrong.
But understanding wasn’t necessary for victory.
His enhanced senses easily detected the thread of Purelight connecting Arthur to Rachel, who maintained a constant flow of healing energy that kept him functional despite the strain of channeling forces his body wasn’t meant to contain. The Saintess of the North, one of the most powerful Purelight users in the world at merely twenty-three years old. Without her continuous support, Arthur would have already succumbed to the reality-warping effects of his own technique.
’I can feel more knowledge flowing through me now,’ Gideon thought as the molten axe in his hands pulsed with increased intensity. Raw power meant nothing without the understanding of how to properly apply it, and he had been somewhat disadvantaged by gaining access to the Infernal Armis so recently. But that limitation was rapidly disappearing as the artifact’s accumulated combat experience integrated with his own capabilities.
After all, he was the Second Calamity.
"Your grey power is impressive," Gideon said, his voice carrying across the battlefield with supernatural clarity. "But it’s killing you from within. I can see the way your body trembles with each use, the blood seeping from your eyes. How long can you maintain something so fundamentally destructive?"
Arthur’s response was to channel more Grey through Nyxthar, the impossible fusion of Deepdark and Purelight making the blade’s edge shimmer with colors that hurt to perceive directly. "Long enough," he replied through gritted teeth, his voice steady despite the obvious agony coursing through his system.
Gideon raised his axe with deliberate slowness, allowing his opponents to see the attack coming while his eyes blazed with anticipation. The Infernal Armis responded to his will by manifesting additional weight drawn from collapsed dimensions, its molten edge beginning to glow with intensity that made the air itself burn.
Then, without warning, he collapsed the space between them.
The world became a blur of motion as Arthur struck with speed that transcended normal limitations, his approach crushing the space-time axis so dramatically that even Gideon’s enhanced perceptions could barely track the movement. Grey flowed through Nyxthar like liquid starlight made of impossible colors, the energy finding gaps in Gideon’s defenses that shouldn’t have existed.
But it didn’t matter.
Even as Arthur’s devastating attack connected, carving a shallow line across his enhanced flesh that made his very nature recoil in horror, Gideon’s axe continued its downward trajectory toward his opponent’s position. The Infernal Armis carved through air, its molten edge promising devastation that would end the fight before it truly began.
Arthur’s response was immediate and impressive. Nyxthar materialized in a defensive position wreathed in layers of carefully controlled astral energy, with spots of Deepdark adding an ominous counterpoint to the blade’s ethereal glow. The legendary sword moved to intercept the axe’s path with precision that spoke to perfect unity between wielder and weapon.
’He’s actually going to meet my strike directly?’ Gideon thought with genuine amusement.
But before the weapons could meet, Reika appeared between them like a wraith given form. Her Cursed Script-enhanced speed allowed her to intercept the axe’s descent, her own blade blazing with characters that rewrote the fundamental laws governing the interaction. Wings of supernatural energy spread from her shoulders while additional script wrote itself along her arms, enhancing her strength beyond normal human limitations.
The impact sent shockwaves through the battlefield, her enhanced capabilities allowing her to momentarily halt a strike that could have leveled mountains. The cursed characters covering her body blazed white-hot as they asserted that her strength was greater than physics suggested, that her blade could withstand forces that should have shattered it instantly.
Of course, that alone wouldn’t have been sufficient.
What truly made the defense effective was Cecilia’s chaotic magic manifesting as countless alterations to the space around them. Reality twisted and folded according to her will, her Witchcraft Gift creating dimensional pockets that absorbed and redirected the overflow of destructive energy while simultaneously providing additional leverage for Reika’s desperate block. Crimson spells rewrote the laws of cause and effect, making Gideon’s overwhelming force somehow less overwhelming.
"Impressive coordination," Gideon acknowledged with genuine respect, even as he applied more pressure to his axe. The Infernal Armis responded by manifesting additional weight drawn from collapsed dimensions, its molten edge beginning to cut through Reika’s defenses despite her enhanced capabilities. "But coordination has its limits."
The artifact’s power surged, and Reika’s script-enhanced strength began to falter under the increasing pressure. Her blade, despite its cursed enhancements, started to show hairline cracks as forces beyond its design parameters pressed against its structure. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she poured more power into her defensive stance, additional characters blazing across her skin in desperate attempts to maintain the block.
But Arthur wasn’t finished.
While his teammate held the axe at bay, Arthur flowed around the engagement like liquid shadow, astral energy cascading through Nyxthar in patterns that made the very air shimmer with potential energy. His sword technique manifested as the Second Movement of his Grade 6 art.
The strike carried more pure destructive output than his previous attacks, the blade cutting through conceptual barriers as easily as it might part water. But this wasn’t the simple negation he had demonstrated before—this was targeted annihilation, focused on the connection between Gideon and the space around him.
Gideon’s response was to release Reika from the bind by shifting his axe’s angle at the last possible moment, allowing her to stumble away while he turned to face Arthur’s devastating assault. The weapons met with a sound like reality screaming, forces that existed beyond normal classification grinding against each other in a display that painted the battlefield in impossible colors.
The Grey flowing through Nyxthar carved into the molten edge of the Infernal Armis, and for a moment, the artifact’s power actually faltered. Where the impossible energy made contact, the corruption that defined Gideon’s enhancement began to retreat, as though his very nature was being negated at the fundamental level.
"What are you?" Gideon demanded, his voice carrying notes of genuine fear as he felt something fundamental about his transformed state recoil from the Grey.
Arthur’s answer was to channel more Grey through Nyxthar, ignoring the way blood began to flow freely from his eyes and nose as his broken Unity strained to maintain the technique.
When the exchange concluded, both combatants had been pushed back several meters, their weapons still humming with residual energy while the ground beneath them bore fresh scars from the overflow of their conflict. But the brief separation revealed something that chilled Gideon to his enhanced core.
Where Arthur’s Grey had made contact with the Infernal Armis, tiny cracks had appeared in the artifact’s surface. Not damage in the conventional sense, but something far more fundamental—as though the very concept of the artifact’s existence was being questioned by forces that operated beyond its classification.
Rachel’s healing light intensified around Arthur, her face pale with effort as she poured more energy into keeping him functional. The strain of maintaining Grey outside his Domain was clearly taking its toll, but her support was allowing him to push far beyond what should have been possible.
Cecilia’s chaos magic swirled around the battlefield in increasingly aggressive patterns, her crimson spells seeking weak points in the connection between Gideon and his artifact. She had recognized the significance of the cracks Arthur had created, and her Witchcraft Gift was now actively working to exploit them.
Reika had recovered from her defensive effort, her cursed script blazing across her skin as she prepared for the next exchange. Additional characters were writing themselves along her arms and legs, enhancing her capabilities in preparation for what promised to be an even more intense confrontation.
"Now that," Gideon said with satisfaction as he straightened to his full height, his molten axe blazing brighter as he prepared to reveal more of his true capabilities, "felt like a proper greeting."
The Infernal Armis responded to his will by manifesting new layers of destructive potential, reality tears spreading outward from his position like wounds that refused to heal. The artifact had learned from the exchange, adapting its defenses to better counter the threat represented by Arthur’s impossible power.
But even as Gideon prepared to escalate the confrontation, he couldn’t shake the memory of those tiny cracks appearing in his divine weapon. For the first time since his transformation, he felt something he never believed he would experience.