The black smoke is thick and hard to see through. It hangs in the air of the reddish dark dimension like a heavy, suffocating curtain, obscuring the vast expanse of the surrounding space. The density of the smoke is absolute, a swirling mass of dark vapor that moves in slow, rolling waves, swallowing any light that attempts to pierce its volume. The hue of the dimension around the smoke is a deep, unsettling reddish dark, a color that seems to pulse faintly in the background, contrasting with the sheer, impenetrable blackness of the floating cloud. The smoke shifts and coils, its edges fraying and weaving together in a continuous, silent motion that makes it impossible to discern any depth or structure within it. I stand before it, my eyes tracking the slow, agonizing churn of the dark vapor, the thick particles of the smoke hanging suspended over the invisible ground of the realm. There is no wind to disperse it, no draft to carry it away, only the slow, natural settling of the thick cloud as it begins to part.
As the smoke clears, a figure appeared from the smoke. The dark, shifting curtain of vapor gradually yields, peeling back layer by layer to reveal the silhouette standing within the fading haze. The outline of the figure sharpens as the last wisps of the black smoke drift away from his form. Sagha appeared. He stands entirely still amidst the dissipating vapor, his posture relaxed yet commanding in the center of the reddish dark space. The ambient light of the dimension casts long, distorted shadows across his figure. He is holding something in his grasp. His hand is curled around an indistinct shape, his fingers gripping it firmly as he emerges from the obscuring cloud. The object he is holding remains secured in his grip, brought forth from the depths of the thick black smoke into the dim, reddish light of the open dimension.
Sagha shifted his weight slightly on the invisible ground, his gaze scanning the area before he spoke. Sagha suddenly said, "Phew, I just got in time to get Zaltraf's soul before he's gone so I can summon him again. If not, the plan would go to the ditch." His voice carries clearly through the empty air of the reddish dark dimension, breaking the stillness that had settled after the smoke cleared.
I suddenly felt a surge of anger. The physical sensation is immediate and overwhelming, a sudden spike of tension that grips my muscles and accelerates my pulse. My hands tighten, my jaw clenches, and the raw, unadulterated anger floods my system, dictating my next movement. I dashed forward. My feet push off the invisible ground, the unseen surface providing absolute traction as I launch myself across the distance separating us. The reddish dark environment blurs around the edges of my vision as I close the gap with extreme velocity. The space between us vanishes in a fraction of a second. I swung my sword at him. The physical motion is fluid and committed. My arm extends, my shoulder rotates, and the blade of my sword carves a sharp, deadly arc through the empty air. The metal of the weapon reflects the dull, reddish light of the dimension as it travels toward Sagha, the trajectory of the swing aimed perfectly to strike his form.
He dodged it. Sagha's movement is instantaneous and effortless. He shifts his body out of the path of the swinging blade with a subtle, perfectly calculated lean. The edge of my sword slices through the empty space where he had been standing only a microsecond before, the force of my swing meeting nothing but the cold air of the dimension. He did not step back or retreat; he merely adjusted his stance, allowing the lethal arc of the weapon to pass harmlessly by him. As the blade completed its useless swing, he just said, "You're too slow." The words are spoken with a calm, even tone, devoid of any exertion.
Suddenly, he kicked me. The counterattack is abrupt and devastating. Sagha pivots, lifting his leg and driving his foot into me with a sudden, violent eruption of physical force. The impact is a massive, concentrated shock that connects with my body, the sheer kinetic output of the strike overriding my forward momentum entirely. The collision forces the breath from my lungs and shatters my stance. I flew into the invisible ground of the reddish dark dimension. The force of Sagha's kick launches me backward through the air, my body moving like a projectile cast across the empty space. I travel through the reddish dark void, the environment spinning around me until I crash down. The impact against the invisible ground is hard and jarring. There is no visual texture to the floor, no dirt or stone, but the physical resistance is absolute. My body strikes the unseen surface, skidding and rolling across the invisible plane before finally coming to a halt, the dull ache of the impact settling into my frame.
From my position on the invisible ground, I watch the immediate response. Celdrich dashed forward. His approach is swift, his feet moving rapidly across the unseen floor of the reddish dark dimension as he closes in on Sagha's position. Celdrich's momentum is entirely focused on the figure standing in the center of the space. He swung his dark katana and dagger at Sagha. The dual strike is unleashed with precise coordination. Celdrich brings both weapons to bear in a simultaneous assault, the long, curved blade of the dark katana sweeping in from one angle while the shorter, sharper edge of the dagger thrusts in from another. The two blades cut through the reddish ambient light, their dark metal converging on Sagha in a complex, overlapping attack designed to trap him.
But he parried it with his finger. Sagha does not draw a weapon. He does not retreat. He simply raises his hand, extending a single digit into the path of the oncoming assault. The dark katana and the dagger collide with his finger. The sound is a sharp, abrupt metallic ring as the edges of Celdrich's dual weapons are stopped completely by the sheer physical resistance of Sagha's extended digit. The forward momentum of Celdrich's entire charge is halted in an instant. The blades press against the finger, but they do not cut, they do not move forward; they are completely and utterly blocked by that single point of contact.
Sagha stood there, holding back the two blades with one finger, and he laughed. The sound echoes through the reddish dark dimension, carrying a tone of casual amusement. He laughed and said, "Dual spirit and the eye of the gods, huh... huge potential I see..." He continues to hold the parry effortlessly, looking past the crossed blades of the dark katana and the dagger to speak directly to the attacker whose momentum he had just instantly negated.
Suddenly, he kicked Celdrich. Moving with the same abrupt, violent speed as before, Sagha shifts his weight from the parry and unleashes a physical strike. His leg snaps forward, the kick connecting squarely with Celdrich's body. The impact is a massive transfer of kinetic force that instantly breaks Celdrich's dual-wielding stance. And he flew. The sheer power of the kick lifts Celdrich off his feet, launching him backward through the reddish dark dimension. His body is sent hurtling through the air, mirroring my own trajectory from moments before, traveling away from Sagha and crashing onto the unseen surface of the dimension's invisible ground.
Suddenly, a portal appeared. The fabric of the reddish dark dimension tears open beside Sagha. The portal manifests as a distinct opening in the surrounding space, a visual gateway that cuts through the ambient hue of the realm. The edges of the portal shimmer, creating a stark contrast against the dark, empty environment that has served as our battlefield. From within the depths of the newly opened gateway, a female voice called to Sagha. The voice projects clearly out of the portal, cutting across the distance and echoing over the invisible ground. She said, "Sagha, it's time to go home."
Suddenly, Sagha laughed. The sound is light, casual, and entirely unbothered by the violence that had just occurred. He turned his head slightly toward the open gateway, looking into the portal. He said, "Sure, honey." He shifts his stance, his demeanor entirely relaxed despite the surrounding chaos.
Suddenly, he dragged the unconscious body of Zarha. Sagha walks over to where Zarha lies completely still on the invisible ground. He reaches down and takes hold of Zarha's limp form. With casual exertion, he begins to pull Zarha across the unseen surface. The friction of the unconscious body dragging along the invisible ground is the only physical evidence of the floor beneath them. As Sagha hauls the body toward the portal, the details of the captive come into view. His white mask was dirty because of everything that happened. The usually pristine surface of Zarha's mask is covered in thick streaks of grime, dust, and residue. The white material is heavily smudged, the dirt standing out sharply against the pale background of the mask, a physical testament to the preceding events.
Sagha stops near the edge of the portal, still holding Zarha's unconscious form. Suddenly, he called Tokine. He speaks out into the reddish dark dimension, projecting his voice across the space toward Tokine's position. But Tokine said no. The refusal is direct, hanging in the air between them. Sagha paused, looking out over the invisible ground toward Tokine. Sagha just laughed. It is a quiet, dismissive sound. He adjusted his grip on the unconscious Zarha. He said, "Do what you want, but I'm disappointed at you, daughter."
With those final words hanging in the reddish dark air, he turns away from the battlefield. And he goes through the portal. Sagha steps directly into the shimmering gateway, pulling the dirty, unconscious body of Zarha along with him. His figure crosses the threshold, vanishing entirely into the opening. The portal remains for a fraction of a second after his departure before it snaps shut, erasing the gateway and leaving the space where it had been completely empty.
And then Sir Vael appeared. He manifests suddenly within the dimension, arriving on the invisible ground. He immediately scans the immediate area, his eyes sweeping over the empty space where Sagha and the portal had just been. He looked concerned if he's too late. His physical expression is tight, his posture rigid as he takes in the sight of my fallen form and Celdrich's thrown body. His eyes dart across the reddish dark expanse, the visual confirmation of the empty battlefield cementing his concern.
Suddenly, the dimension started to disintegrate. The very fabric of the reddish dark space begins to break apart. The deep, ambient hue of the dimension shudders, the visual stability of the realm fracturing into pieces. The invisible ground beneath us begins to lose its absolute consistency. The edges of the dark space peel away, revealing nothingness beneath as the entire construct of the dimension rapidly falls to pieces around us. The visual collapse accelerates, the red and dark colors bleeding out of existence as the spatial environment crumbles entirely.
We are suddenly back on the 50th floor of the dungeon. The transition is violent and immediate. The disintegrating reddish dark dimension is instantly replaced by the physical reality of the dungeon. The invisible ground is gone, replaced instantly by the hard, cold, textured stone floor of the 50th level. The ambient light of the dungeon walls replaces the strange hues of the dimension, illuminating the massive, enclosed space of the boss room.
Suddenly I felt my body weaken as the enhanced body state disappeared. The physical sensation is a rapid, jarring loss of tension. The absolute physical output and stability I had been maintaining drains away in an instant, leaving my muscles feeling incredibly heavy and fatigued. My limbs tremble as the physical enhancement ceases entirely, dropping my physical condition back to its standard, unaugmented baseline. The weight of my own body presses down on me against the cold stone floor. And the bond magic disappeared. The connection severs. The shared physical presence and the linked state completely vanish from my system. The feeling of the union abruptly halts, leaving a sudden, stark emptiness in its wake as the magical integration finishes its course. And my merge with Elphyete finish. The physical and magical combination concludes its cycle, separating our forms entirely.
And she appeared on the ground unconscious. Elphyete's physical body manifests directly onto the cold stone floor of the dungeon beside me. She is completely still, her limbs limp against the hard surface of the 50th floor, her eyes closed in deep unconsciousness. She lies there without moving, the separation complete. With my other unconscious classmates. Scattered across the stone floor of the dungeon around us are the unmoving bodies of the other students. They are draped across the ground in various states of collapse, entirely unresponsive and still within the enclosed space of the dungeon level. And unconscious Ma'am Cherha. The teacher is also lying on the stone surface, her body motionless among the scattered students, bringing the entire chaotic sequence to a complete, physical halt on the cold floor of the dungeon.