Tellewin: "You reek of filth… how fitting."
The leaf-like feathers clinging to Tellewin's wings stiffened with a sinister elegance, each plume refining itself into something far more lethal as their edges sharpened into razor crescents.
Tellewin wrenched himself free from Jerry's grasp, his wing slipping loose with a violent snap as his body vaulted backward into open air, pulling Jerry out along with him.
Mid-flight, he flexed the structure of those wings, compressing their span while curling their tips inward like hooked blades being primed for slaughter—poised and precise.
Jerry's expression flickered—just for a moment—as Tellewin came screaming back down.
Impact.
Those angelic appendages scissored across Jerry's chest in a brutal cross-cut, the strike landing with a shriek of torn matter as two savage wounds split him open.
They burrowed past skin and carved into his soaked muscle and bone with barbaric efficiency.
Jerry plummeted into the orderly streets of a neighboring district, the collision detonating against the pavement as stone fragmented outward.
Jerry was left sprawled out in the center of a smoking crater, debris ticking and settling around him.
Jerry: "Honestly… I'm impressed. But it's still not enough. I'm not quite satisfied yet. Give me more."
That animalistic smile of his had yet to disappear.
He casually rose again, as if the damage he had just received meant nothing.
His was posture loose, almost bored, despite the blood cascading down his frame.
Jerry: "What the hell are you waiting for?! Keep it coming!"
Tellewin dropped from above and struck the ground before him, the landing tearing through the district with a jarring tremor as he rolled his neck.
His vertebrae cracked with an unpleasant, echoing rhythm; his ruby eyes dimmed into something colder, something tainted with irritation.
Tellewin: "Your thirst for flesh is insatiable. Doesn't bloodshed go against the laws of Balance? The god your kingdom serves?"
Jerry let out a sharp exhale, dragging a hand across his face in visible annoyance.
Jerry: "For the love of—can you quit yapping my ears off already? I could not care less about all that garbage."
He paused…
Jerry: "Come. At. Me."
Tellewin growled.
The ground beneath him ruptured as he launched forward, soaring past rows of wooden estates in a blur of white and gold.
He reeled his fist back before driving it straight toward Jerry's mangled chest with killing intent.
Jerry's forearm rose and intercepted it with a brutal halt, his rugged boots grinding into the earth underneath him as the force tried—and failed—to displace him.
in the same instant, his other hand shot forward, tangling itself into Tellewin's hair with a savage grip.
What followed was utterly disgraceful.
Jerry yanked him upward, slowly beginning to whirl the king around like a lasso. Tellewin's body became an unwilling flail as Jerry spun him in widening arcs!
His elegant frame smashed through buildings, splintering chiseled wood, shattering cobbled stone, and annihilating everything in reach.
The once-neatly organized architecture had been completely enveloped in a typhoon of ruin.
Jerry finally drove him downward, abruptly ending the humiliating scene.
Tellewin's skull was slammed straight into the sodden earth, his face buried deep into mud and clay as the ground buckled beneath the force, swallowing him into its filth.
But it didn't stop there.
Jerry seized his leg next—tightening his hold with bone-crushing intent—before sliding his boots across the ground, perfecting his stance.
He then ran.
Miles vanished behind them in seconds as Jerry tore across the terrain, dragging Tellewin along like discarded refuse! His body scraped and bounced against rock and debris that pummeled him relentlessly.
Tellewin screamed as his raw flesh was torn out by the flying projectiles.
His jester mask shattered apart, pieces scattering into the rushing chaos as his features were reduced to something barely recognizable.
Jerry halted, pivoted, and hurled Tellewin upward into the air before stepping in and delivering a devilish strike to his mandibles
The hit landed with a ghastly crunch.
A flash of harsh blue lightning erupted from the point of contact, rippling outward in jagged veins as radiant particles scattered through the air like frail stars.
The force carried Tellewin's body away in a spiraling trajectory.
His jaw practically collapsed, barely clinging together by thin strings of meat that swayed grotesquely beneath his face, now painted with glowing crimson fragments that pulsed.
Tellewin: "Argh… Ack! Shickk! Aghhh…!"
Jerry: "Sorry, I'm not familiar with that language."
Tellewin's soul was devoured by a blazing rage. From within his throat, a mangled, bubbling scream clawed its way out, ripping through the air with ear-wrenching intensity.
One of his wings convulsed. The feathers recoiled.
And in a warping shift of form, that divine extension collapsed inward, restructuring itself into a human arm once more—the very limb that bore the gleaming Viax Ring.
His feet left the ground.
He tore himself free from the street as though the earth itself had rejected him, launching forward in open defiance against the agony ravaging his body!
His nerves shrieked as he forced movement where there should have been none.
In mere moments, he appeared.
Right in front of Jerry.
Their eyes locked instantly.
Their fists rose—tightened—veins swelling, muscles contracting as something deeper flooded into them… pain, hatred, exhilaration! A volatile fusion of emotion that begged to be released.
A brutal exchange erupted between them as their blows crashed into one another with monstrous force! Their bodies shifted in an endless storm of violence that ruptured the space between them again and again.
Jerry's light-blue braid billowed wildly behind him, glinting under sunlight as the winds howled louder with each passing strike.
His body moved with savage fluidity as he drove a series of blows straight into Tellewin's gut—each one digging deeper than the last.
He abruptly adjusted his weight and rammed his knee upward into the king's kidneys with a vicious impact.
Tellewin's body jerked.
He skidded back, his footing faltering as blood spilled from his nose in thick, snotty streams. His breath hitched as he staggered—yet he refused to fall.
He planted himself, forcing stability before retaliating.
His foot whipped around, smashing into Jerry's hip with a sharp, jarring crack before his fist followed through, colliding directly with Jerry's mouth and twisting his head sideways.
Jerry exhaled hoarsely, a ragged sound ripping out from deep within his chest as he salivated.
His body lowered as he re-rooted himself into the earth below, anchoring his stance like something immovable.
Jerry: "I have to admit it… your desperation to win is almost admirable. Pathetic—but admirable."
Angela: "LÉTTA!"
An enthralling bloom of golden energy unfurled across the district.
It washed over the environment in luminous waves, coating structures, streets, debris—everything—everything except Jerry, who stood untouched at the center of its exclusion.
It shimmered like a thousand living flames, flickering and folding into itself as it converged upon Tellewin's body.
A broken, breathless chuckle escaped his lips as he felt it take hold.
Restoration.
His wounds sealed in an instant as faint trails of white vapor curled off his body, leaving behind that pristine, almost celestial appearance once more.
Not far away, near the crooked remains of the clock tower, Angela steadied herself against the cracked stone. Her breath was uneven, exhaustion clinging to her every movement.
Slick, scarlet fractures traced across her skin, moving like a virus as they punished her with every step she dared to take.
She endured it, tightening her grip around her Blessed Tool.
Jerry's piercing gaze turned toward her almost immediately.
Jerry: "Ah… there she is! That's quite the Blessed Tool you've got there!Although—judging by those nasty little marks crawling all over you—it must've been crafted by one of those treasured blacksmiths."
He tilted his head, grin widening.
Jerry: "Every masterpiece they forge always demands a price, huh? Tragic."
He moved.
Jerry sprinted forward at full speed, his body weaving through the smoldering remains of the district.
He dove across bridges and tore along the broken roads.
His approach was erratic, unpredictable, predatory.
Angela barely had time to react.
He was already there, fist hovering inches from her face.
Tellewin quickly intervened.
His wings expanded fiercely, intercepting the strike as they hardened into a protective barrier. In the same motion, his leg snapped upward with explosive force—his heel crashing into Jerry's neck and sending him sky high.
Jerry choked.
His already burning lungs struggled to draw in air. He was distracted now… and that was more than enough for Tellewin.
Tellewin pulled back further.
His wings beat against the breeze as he distanced himself, gathering something far heavier than mere momentum. Pressure.
The atmosphere began to distort around him as currents of dark and pale gray wind intertwined, spinning across his beautiful wings while gleaming with an eerie stillness. Dust and debris were lifted from the ground below as the environment responded to his will.
The air thickened.
Tellewin drew his wings inward, folding them with controlled precision. He grabbed ahold of the frigid currents that had long lingered within Senson Town, forcing them into shape.
The winds began to tighten.
And not too soon after… a spiral was born.
Tornado.
Tellewin: "I gift you, Jerry Windfield… the grand penalty of death."
The Lord of Prosperity unwinded his heavenly wings to their fullest extent, each feather shimmering with an almost sacred brilliance as the very atmosphere quaked in response.
Then, with a single, decisive motion, he unleashed what had been building behind him all along. The storm was freed.
The colossal tornado roared into existence, its swirling form tearing loose from its invisible bindings.
The winds lunged with predatory intent, slithering through the air in sharp motions reminiscent of a striking serpent . Each current moved with terrifying precision as they closed in on their target.
Jerry: "Huh?!"
He barely had time to react.
The storm struck into his gut with catastrophic force, the rotating pressure folding his body inward as if he were nothing more than pliable matter.
The wind stretched him out unnaturally before violently ejecting him from its grasp, erasing him from his position.
Jerry gagged mid-flight, torrents of blood bursting from his mouth as the sheer velocity raced through him.
He forced his vision to steady. He forced himself to see.
And that's when he caught sight of it. Realization kicked in.
The Senson Palace.
He shot through the prestigious fortress like a comet, blooming an inferno that submerged the palace's once-pristine exterior in pyro.
Flames billowed outwar, swallowing entire sections of the castle as the toxic blast wrenched through its foundation, reducing elegance into devastation within seconds.
The beauty was replaced with ruin.
From afar, Tellewin's cackles echoed across the region, intertwining with the crackles of the fire as if the destruction itself were applauding him.
Within the palace walls, Jerry's body had been thrown deep into the throne room, skittering to a halt beside crumbling stone and collapsing pillars.
Beyond him, the royal gardens had ignited.
The fragile rose petals were now shriveling within the blaze , curling into ash as the heat swallowed them without mercy.
Jerry: "Ugh… now would you look at that? That one kinda hurt. Damn."
Sweat collected along his eyelids, slipping down and assembling below him in a tiny, glistening pool.
His body remained still for just a moment longer.
…
Silence.
The familiar silence rang louder than anything else, drowning out the chaos, the fire, the havoc—until even his own thoughts seemed to be tuned out.
Only the quiet was left on his dirty plate…
Jerry: "Alright then… come."
Snap.
Somewhere afar, it answered.
The Scarlet Horcriax trembled where it had been embedded, compelled by it's wielder's chilling authority. It ripped itself free from the heart of the town.
The weapon beamed across the entirety of Senson Town, rising like a streak of living steel, whisking past dust and debris alike as it surged toward its master with unstoppable intent.
Tellewin's eyes widened.
Tellewin: "What—?!"
He barely managed to dive aside, the staff slicing past him with lethal accuracy as it continued its path.
It reached him.
The Horcriax slammed into Jerry's waiting hand with a shudder, the impact sending a tremor through his entire frame.
He smiled softly.
His hand traced along the weapon's spine, caressing its metal tenderly as he took a step forward.
Jerry took a deep, measured breath.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale!
Blood smeared across the polished surface of the weapon as his fingers clasped firmly around it.
That foul, fiendish grin had returned, sneering across his rancid lips. His starlit eyes almost popped of their glistening sockets, flashing with something bordering near inhuman.
Two words.
Jerry: "APEX OUTPUT!"
Perfect alignment between a wielder and their Blessed Tool.
After years of experience.
Years of conflict.
Years of shared existence.
A weapon and its bearer form a connection beyond the mere use for violence.
Once this alignment is established, the tool is able to push past its original limits.
It is able to break free from its constraints, entering uncharted waters…
The very identity of the tool begins to bend, reshaped not by its creator—but by the one who now holds it.
A soul-link between a Blessed Tool and their handler.
Apex Output.
A mountainous explosion of atomic force erupted, devouring the remaining citadel whole as it evaporated into incandescent ruin—its structure liquefying mid-collapse until all that lingered was a churning ocean of molten stone and boiling magma.
Rivers of dark, viscous lava flooded the town's epicenter, turning what was already a barren wasteland into a fiery world of blazes—a hellish landscape.
The curse of night descended across the Diex Peninsula like a sealing veil.
An oppressive, unbroken darkness smothered the heavens and erased the memory of daylight itself, enclosing the landform beneath an eternal, suffocating dome of shadow.
Deafening lances of neon-purple lightning struck from the void-like sky, slamming into the busted earth in nonstop succession.
Each thunderous strike carved gaping scars into existence itself.
The people could not speak.
They could only stare.
Frozen.
Unable to believe the pure madness they were witnessing…
Tellewin's pupils dilated violently.
Terror—raw and unfiltered—cracked through his expression as his breath stuttered.
Unshed tears glistened at the corners of his eyelids, threatening to fall.
Tellewin: "N-No… impossible! He hasn't used it since the Third Ageless War… why now?! I don't understand?!"
The sun was gone. Its hope gave out after getting eclipsed…
In its place, the ethereal judgment of the moon rained down upon the battlefield, bathing the region in the moonlight's illumination.
Atop the final, withering remnant of the palace tower… stood a figure.
Surrounded by drifting cosmic sigils—ancient, lunar hexes etched into the air itself, each one silently echoing the lost worship of the Moon Drown Dynasty.
Jerry Windfield.
Vessel of the Royal and Forgotten Moons.
The incarnation of the extinct lineage of Moon Drown Elves, reborn into a single living anomaly of inherited existence.
His sea-blue curls moved delicately in the gusts, each strand marked with faint snow-white streaks that glimmered.
Night itself seemed to have rewritten him strand by strand.
His light-brown skin reflected the luminescence with an unnatural clarity, no longer merely brightened, but claimed.
A crimson cloak billowed behind him, torn and reborn in equal measure, flowing over dark silver pauldrons trimmed with white bear fur.
The fur fibers whirled in the freezing winds.
His newly formed elven ears twitched subtly, reacting to every sound across this forsaken world—every distant collapse and every whispered fear.
A third eye had been revealed.
The radiant aperture was sculpted into his forehead, its iris shimmering in the same deep oceanic blue that encircled the entire peninsula, as if the marine mass itself had been embedded within his skull and drove into awareness.
His cuirass—silver and ornate—rested over his form like a sentient relic, engraved with complex patterns that fluctuated dimly beneath the Luna's gaze.
It fused seamlessly into the remnants of his original black chest-plate.
At the center of his chest—his beating heart was now visibly exposed.
Pulsing with raw crimson life as neon-blue and violet conduits wrapped around it, anchoring it in place like sacred machinery forged from divine contradiction.
Every beat sent faint tremors through the air around him.
His right arm had become something else entirely.
Transfigured.
Transcended.
An appendage of writhing aqua mass, sculptured from lustrous fluids and bound by moonlight essence.
Small orbs of wandering stellar debris rotated infinitely, shifting like trapped shards of a broken cosmos. Their movements cast soft ripples of light across the liquid's surface.
Amethyst crystals glistered near his vambraces, radiating with quiet, abnormal grace.
He was adorned with the fragmented starlight.
Jerry casually crouched.
He brushed his fingers through his curls, adjusting his lenses with calm precision.
He slowly rested his cheek into his palm as an almost peaceful sigh escaped him.
…
Jerry: "Well then… let's see if the odds are still in your 'favor' now, Tellewin."