Chapter 113: Magic Battery

  The battlefield was a storm of blood, shattered chitin, and screaming horrors.

  Marcus moved like a force of nature, his fists shattering exoskeletons with each devastating blow. Every time he appeared, another creature was left broken, its body crumpling into steaming piles of black ichor. Floating Butterfly, Stinging Bee and Spatial Footwork made him a blur of destruction, his movements too fast for the mind to register. Every step sent shockwaves through the ruined streets, every strike a thunderclap of raw, condensed power.

  Vira fought differently—methodically, weaving spells with the last dregs of her mana. Her fingers trembled as she traced sigils mid-air, her grimoire flipping through its pages automatically, sensing her desperation. Each time she lifted her staff, a fresh wave of elemental destruction was unleashed—blades of wind carving through hardened chitin, torrents of lightning frying beasts where they stood.

  But it wasn’t enough.

  They just kept coming.

  Her vision blurred as exhaustion set in. I’m running out of mana… she realized with a sinking dread. The sheer number of enemies felt endless. At this rate, we’re going to be overrun.

  Then, something strange happened.

  Her grimoire buzzed violently, as if possessed. The pages flipped of their own accord, faster and faster, until they stopped on an unfamiliar spell. Vira’s eyes widened as she read the contents, her mind racing to process the information. Magic Battery? It wasn’t just a technique—it was a forbidden technique, one she had never even heard of before.

  But in this moment, it might be their only hope.

  "Marcus! Vealeth! Come to me!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the battlefield.

  Marcus, mid-dodge, turned his head, his instincts flaring. Vira never calls for help unless it’s serious.

  "On my way!" he shouted, vanishing from his spot as he burst forward.

  Vealeth, his sword slick with the black ichor of fallen beasts, didn't hesitate either. He spun through another foe, cutting through its throat in a single motion before pivoting towards Vira.

  Both of them reached her side within moments, bloodied but standing firm.

  "What is it?!" Marcus demanded, eyes sharp.

  Vira simply pointed to her grimoire.

  Vealeth narrowed his gaze as he scanned the page. His lips parted slightly as realization dawned. "Magic Battery?"

  Before either could question further, Stem's voice rang out in Marcus’s mind.

  "Marcus, I have analyzed the spell and cross-referenced it with my existing knowledge. I have formulated a plan."

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  Marcus inhaled sharply. "Tell me."

  "This technique allows two magic users to expel all of their remaining energy into a single recipient. Due to Vealeth’s unique application of Psycha, he is the optimal conduit. You and Vira must channel all of your remaining mana, Ki, and Psycha into him."

  Marcus frowned. "But Vealeth only uses Psycha. Vira only uses Mana. I can use all three, but how will he utilize my Mana and Ki?"

  "Incorrect," Stem corrected. "During the transference process, Mana and Ki will condense into raw magical potential before entering Vealeth. His Psycha ability will be amplified exponentially, shaped by the volume of magic received."

  Marcus’s eyes widened. "That means… he can project his influence over the entire battlefield."

  He turned to Vira and Vealeth. "We’re doing this. Now."

  Vira nodded, though she looked uncertain. Vealeth, on the other hand, smirked. "I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I like the sound of it."

  The three formed a triangle, pressing their palms together.

  A pulse of energy surged between them.

  The world fell silent for an instant. Then—

  A shockwave of pure power erupted outward, illuminating the battlefield in golden light. Magic flooded Vealeth’s body, his veins glowing with unnatural brilliance. His Psycha surged, expanding beyond its previous limits, tendrils of golden energy lashing outward like unseen hands gripping reality itself.

  Then—a golden dome engulfed the battlefield.

  Across Nireen, the world shifted.

  At the Veylan Estate, Sylven struck down another beast with a casual flick of his blade, his expression almost bored. "Like swatting gnats," he muttered.

  Then, suddenly—the creatures stopped.

  Sylven’s smirk faded. "Huh?"

  At the Kelcrest Estate, Thalron and Arixa fought side by side, their blades flashing through the endless tide of horrors.

  Thalron pivoted mid-swing. "Wait," he muttered.

  Arixa, lost in her battle rage, paused only because she could sense it too. The monsters, relentless just moments ago, had frozen in place.

  "Why… are they just standing there?" Thalron asked, wary.

  Arixa, gripping her warhammer, tilted her head. "What the hell is going on?"

  Back on the battlefield…

  Vealeth opened his eyes.

  The entire horde of monsters stood motionless—locked in his Psycha grip. His expression flickered with something dangerous.

  Then, he smiled.

  "Now… kill each other."

  The battlefield exploded into chaos once more.

  But this time—it was the monsters that tore themselves apart.

  Bladed limbs ripped through exoskeletons. Fangs shredded flesh. Creatures turned on each other in a frenzy, unable to resist Vealeth’s command.

  A bloodbath unfolded, the horde devouring itself in a mindless slaughter.

  The group watched, awe-struck.

  Minutes passed. Then, finally, the last beast collapsed, gurgling on its own ichor.

  A suffocating silence followed.

  Marcus, panting, wiped blood from his face. "That… was insane."

  Vealeth, still absorbing the feeling of raw power coursing through him, laughed. "I think I like this power."

  Thalron and Arixa rejoined them, their expressions wary.

  "What the hell just happened?" Arixa asked, gripping her warhammer.

  Vealeth smirked. "We just saved the city."

  A slow, deliberate clap echoed through the ruined battlefield.

  The group turned as Sylven emerged from the shadows.

  "Don’t speak too soon," he said, his voice tinged with something ominous. "I’m getting troubling reports. A nearby dungeon has opened, and monsters are pouring through."

  The weight of his words crushed the momentary relief.

  Vira frowned, adjusting her grip on her staff. "That’s impossible. Dungeon portals don’t open on their own—and they never stay open."

  The silence stretched too long.

  Then, Stem’s voice echoed in Marcus’s mind.

  "Marcus. I must warn you. If my readings are correct… multiple dungeon portals have opened at Nireen’s borders."

  Marcus’s stomach dropped. "Multiple?"

  His gaze darkened as he relayed the information to the group.

  Arixa clenched her fists. "So what? We killed these things, we’ll just do it again."

  Vira’s expression remained tense. "No, Arixa. Dungeon creatures are different. They don’t just rampage. They follow rules. And if the portals aren’t closing…"

  Marcus finished the thought, his voice grim. "Then someone—or something—is holding them open."

  A heavy silence followed.

  The battle was far from over. And this time, it wasn’t just about the city.

  Something else was coming. And it was worse.