Golden banners of Alfheim were trampled on the ground while some still shone proudly amid the chaos. Yet despite the arrival of Fhiron's radiant warriors, the battle was far from over.
The ground quaked again, and from the southern edge of the village, more of Vrunemir's reinforcements surged forth.
These were no longer knights. They were aberrations; grotesque shells of men, armor fused to flesh, limbs reshaped into jagged appendages, and their weapons transformed with dark veins and runes.
Their movements were erratic, like puppets yanked by some invisible hand.
"There's no way…" Muttered Jean, bracing his other dagger as he watched them shamble and charge. "What are these things?"
Elizabeth stood next to him, breathing heavily with her clothes tattered, and one arm bruised.
"Is this Dracula's doing?" She asked, scanning the enemy lines.
"No." Said Grimhild, descending from above. Her voice was calm, but her aura was tense. "This is caused by the Idea of Evil, Lilith."
"The Idea of… Evil?" Asked Elizabeth.
"An Alufray Spirit born from the mortals' collective unconscious. It's fundamentally responsible for all concepts associated with evil; reasons for pain, suffering, and sadness. Lilith governs over it all."
"What was that? I heard about this back at the academy when I was younger. Why would an Alufray spirit get involved with Midgard?" Asked Fienta who stood near them, now holding a pitchfork. "Don't they need a vessel to manifest here?"
Grimhild nodded her head.
"Mm. A vessel is required, otherwise, their abstract body would be far too big for the Nie'mada."
"Who could it be?" Asked Jean beside them. "There's no way the Idea of Evil is influencing the Nie'mada from the At'ama, right?"
"I may have a rough idea." Proclaimed Grimhild.
Without warning, the possessed abominations let out a synchronized roar; if it could even be called that.
It was more like a chorused shriek. A completely inhuman sound that echoed off the village with a soul-chilling vibration.
And then without hesitation, they moved.
Faster than the ones before, leaping over barricades, scaling stone, some even climbing on all fours like animals.
A village boy was nearly torn apart had it not been for a flash of light—an Alfheim warrior intercepting the blow and slicing the creature in two with his elven blade.
But even as it died, black mist leaked from its remains, pooling back toward the others.
"They're keeping each other alive?!" Kyto yelled.
"These bastards are evolving!" Fienta shouted, furrowing his brows. "Things can get bad real quick!"
While it's black mist pooled back to the others, it reformed its body and continued the fight.
High above the battle, Fhiron clenched his jaw as golden light circled him while scanning the field.
"They're drawing from a deeper curse." He muttered. "Someone is manipulating the battlefield."
Then his eyes narrowed—sensing something, or rather someone.
Elizabeth turned toward Grimhild, who stood still as a statue as the wind caught her white hair.
"Grimhild?" She asked. "What should we do?"
Grimhild's gaze was locked on the abominations, but her mind was elsewhere.
"Elizabeth, Jean."
They both turned to the witch, widening their eyes.
"Huh? What is it?" Asked the Ayleon.
"Yeah? You have a plan?" Asked Elizabeth.
"Yes. Stay here and continue the fight, I'll be elsewhere for the time being."
"What? Where are you going? We'll need your help!" Proclaimed Jean.
Grimhild smiled at his response.
"My help? You have the Elf King here."
Jean widened his eyes and looked up at the floating Elf above them. He recognized his strength and nodded his head.
"Oh… right! B-But where are you going? I'll come with you!"
"No." Grimhild walked onwards. "Protect the people of Loreanzus at all costs, I'll get down to the root of this problem."
Both Elizabeth and Jean nodded their heads and then focused on the battle.
A magic circle soon appeared underneath Grimhild's feet as she teleported away via Rulmedia; the teleportation spell.
"Spirit Arts User…"'Muttered Fhiron with a frown visible on his face. "It's Spirit Arts Users!" Shouted the Elf King, gaining everyone's attention. "They're somewhere using Spirit Magic and evolving Vrunemir's men through some ancient spell!"
Everyone widened their eyes.
"How can you tell?!" Asked Kyto.
"With Mana Control." Said Fhiron, glancing down at Kyto. "I can sense their mana, but it's faint! They're keeping themselves hidden exceptionally well."
Kyto stepped forward, grinning.
"Then I'll handle it."
"Hmm?" Fhiron lifted his brow. "You think you can take them on? It's at least a dozen or more."
Kyto nodded his head.
"I got this! You guys can focus on the battle, if there are Spirit Arts Users then they should be relatively easy to handle for someone like me. They only use Elufray spirits, right?"
Fhiron grinned at his knowledge before nodding his head.
"Yes indeed. Elufray Spirits are the only ones they can manifest and use. You know your stuff, huh lad?"
"I learned it from Grimhild before we went into the Ashen Burial Grounds. It's useful knowledge to keep."
"Mm." Fhiron nodded. "Just be careful out there."
Spirit Arts Users were mages who primarily practiced in the arts of Spirit Magic and manifesting Elufray spirits from the At'ama.
They may dedicate their entire lives to using Spirit Magic, but all of that power would pale in comparison to that of an Elohim.
And that's what Kyto was; half Elohim, and half Man, in other words, a Cyrodel.
An Elohim's divine mana is like poison to spirits; it corrodes their bodies into nothingness and can kill them without question.
The elven race knew about this and had even crafted their armors and weapons with the same divine mana, allowing them to slay these spirits.
But Kyto was the natural source. He didn't need weapons or armor to fight spirits or spirit arts users, he only needed his fists and magic!
"I'll flush them out." Kyto said, cracking his knuckles. "Spirits can't hide from me!" Without waiting for approval, Kyto leapt onto a nearby rooftop.
A faint, divine glow shone from his body as his divine mana unfurled, coating his entire body in an aura.
The sky darkened overhead as more of Vrunemir's abominations surged forward, but Kyto didn't stop.
He narrowed his focus, feeling the threads of mana pulled unnaturally tight across the village outskirts.
He too had Mana Control; in fact, that was the basics that all mortals in Midgard had, and was learned in a bunch of Magic Academies, however, Elves just happen to have a superior one.
"There!" He muttered.
Atop a distant ridge beyond the southern barricade, hidden beneath an old, hollowed tree, a sigil was shown, but not for mortal eyes.
Kyto scanned and analyzed the spell by focusing mana into his eyes via mana control.
"…A cloaking spell?"
It was a cloaking spell meant for invisibility, there was no question about it.
He shot forward in a burst of divine propulsion with Flonta as he zipped through the sky.
In seconds, he arrived at the base of the ridge, where he thrust his hand forward.
"Show yourselves!"
Divine energy exploded from his palm, dispelling the cloaking enchantment with a radiant wave.
A dozen cloaked figures appeared with robes of deep green and violet as they reeled from the disruption. Their faces were masked, and their hands already forming incantations.
"Spirit Arts Users." Kyto said coldly. "Let's see how long you can keep your composure."
One stepped forward, lifting their staff as dark magic circles spiraled around it.
"You dare challenge the blessed of Lilith?" She hissed. "The Evil is already taking root, your efforts are wasted!"
Kyto didn't bother talking this out; he launched forward, punching the ground with a divine-fueled strike that cracked the terrain.
A wave of divine energy radiated outward, causing three of the Spirit Arts Users to scream as their bodies dissolved into spiritual dust.
"What?! His mana—it's... It's like venom to us!"
"So that's it, huh?" Kyto smiled at their fear. "You people use Spirit Magic all your lives up to the point where it replaces your normal mana. Now all of you are nothing more than hybrids born of Elufray and Mortals!"
"H-He must be a Cyrodel!"
"Kill him before he destroys us all!" Another one shouted.
Five others began weaving rapid spells, summoning dark entities from the At'ama.
Shadows with screaming faces rose around them, attempting to charge Kyto, but the moment they got close, their forms crumbled, unable to survive contact with his divine aura.
"Is that all you got?!" Kyto muttered, snapping forward with a glowing uppercut into one mage's chest, shattering their body made of spirit particles in one blow.
In less than a minute, half of them were down. The others retreated, trying to reform their line.
But Kyto stepped through them like a blade through parchment.
One by one, they fell, withered, shattered, or were broken by the divine force of every strike.
"Hm?" But all of a sudden, he could feel it; residual threads of Spirit Magic still coiling in the distance.
That wasn't all of them—the mana density hadn't thinned enough. The true network of Spirit Arts Users was wider and more intricate.
These guys were more coordinated than he thought.
"Tch… all of them split up!" He muttered.
Looking up from the scattered ashes of their remains and shattered masks around him, he turned his gaze toward the eastern hill beyond the village perimeter.
There was a slight feeling of mana.
Another cloaking spell—no doubt.
"That way!" Without pause, Kyto took flight, vanishing in a golden flash.
A moment later, he reappeared on the hillside while Flonta pushed beneath his feet before slamming his palm into the air again and shouting.
"Come out and face me! I know you're here!"
A second wave of divine mana detonated outward from his fist, vaporizing the camouflage on the terrain.
This group was smaller; five cloaked mages, though they were different.
Their robes had intricate violet embroideries shaped like serpents, and their masks were carved from Dragon bones.
One stepped forward, tall and commanding with a deep voice.
"Ah, a Cyrodel? How rare." They said almost mockingly. "I thought the Three Witches of Calamity killed your kind during the Legendary Age. It's good to be wrong sometimes."
Kyto didn't speak as he scowled at them.
"But do you think yourself special, half-god?" She said, raising both arms. "You are but a fluke in the eyes of Lilith. She remembers the world before the Mortals… and before the Idea of good came into being!"
Kyto raised his hand as mana swirled around his wrist.
"Then she can watch as I erase her followers."
The woman sneered and struck her staff to the ground.
The other four surrounded her in a ritual formation, and a massive black rune circle formed behind them; ten meters wide, emanating with ghastly power.
Spirits screamed from within its edges, faces pressing against the veil, trying to break through.
"Even divine mana will falter beneath her idea."
"This is our Magic! The Magic of evil!" One of them said.
"The Idea of Evil will always rule supreme!" Said the other.
"This is Lady Lilith's Ultimate Spell!"
"Elivondronta!" They all shouted in unison.
"Huh?" Kyto widened his eyes, realizing the devastation of this spell.
It was the magic of an Alufray Spirit; completely out of his league.