Chapter 98: A Concluded Match, and the Return to Magnolia (3)
"Haa… haa…"
"…Nightwalker…"
I pointed my blade toward the other me—the one wearing a twisted smile, eyes overflowing with bloodlust.
Faust, the deranged king, was dead.
My foolish disciple finally finished his errand and returned the humans of Earthland back to their world.
Well… it was only possible because he asked for my help in the first place.
But my battle was not over.
...
"Haa!"
"Kh…!!"
A thrust came without even a moment to breathe.
I barely avoided a fatal strike—yet a burning sensation ran across my arm. He'd grazed me.
Yes. The instinct—no, the soul itself—was screaming.
The other me must be hearing the same voice in his head.
A voice demanding we become one again.
Just like the urge that once tormented me long ago.
....
"Illusian!!"
"Just die already!!"
"Guh—?!"
Our weapons clashed again—my blade against his conjured spear. The spear shattered—
—but he had already lost his sanity. He rammed the broken shaft straight into my abdomen.
My counterstrike landed too. My sword pierced into his shoulder.
....
"Kh—hahaha!"
"Graaagh!!"
We were both thrown back by the impact.
Yet the phantom—driven purely by instinct—charged again. Too drained to use the Eye of Reincarnation, he molded another spear-like weapon from magic and lunged.
I drew my second sword, catching his thrust.
....
"Damn it… you're exhausted too! You can't even use illusions anymore! Just fall already!"
"That applies to you as well."
His breath was ragged, but his eyes were unwavering.
"『God-Enshroudment』—you wrapped a god around your body and controlled its power as if it were your own. A reckless technique. A technique I could never have used back when we were one."
"If that's praise, I'll take it."
"But it comes at a price. That kind of recklessness must be tearing your body apart."
"—Kh…!"
He was right.
Unlike summoning my bound spirits through the Mist Staff… I had become the vessel for a god itself.
And my body was paying for it. Every clash made my vision flicker and fade.
But I forced myself to stand.
....
"I… I refuse to die!"
"Silence."
"Haa… haa… I won't give up… I will NEVER die!"
My consciousness wavered—so I stabbed my thigh, forcing myself awake through pain.
Illusian rushed me again, eyes wild.
The old me—the pure instinct, the raw emotion—would have accepted death and reunion.
But that is no longer me.
I have a reason to live now.
I made a promise.
To never die without permission.
To stay by their side.
The current me is not the same as before.
I have a life to protect.
A future to carry.
....
"Secret Art — Clear Mirror Still Water: Demon Blossom Sake."
"Flames…?!"
I drew a great saké cup from my chest.
The empty cup filled on its own.
I exhaled into the surface—ripples spread.
Azure flames, swirling with spiritual energy, burst forth like a curtain, sweeping in to engulf Illusian.
While the flames raged, I raised my sword high, pulling the blazing barrier inward—condensing every last ember into my blade.
This was it. The strongest strike I could muster with what remained of my strength.
As the curtain of fire withdrew, Illusian also gathered everything he had—dense mist swirling and condensing into the spear in his hands.
No doubt… the other me had also reached his limit.
And with this final clash, everything would be decided.
...
"Secret Art — Clear Mirror Still Water: [Sever]!!"
"Dragon Slayer Secret Art — Phantom Heavenly Rend!!"
....
Blue spiritual fire crashed against a dragon's might, and the clash exploded into a massive shockwave.
The world itself seemed to tremble.
The force roared, rippled, devoured, and shredded everything around us.
We both screamed through clenched teeth, refusing to be pushed back.
...
"…It's over."
When the violent light finally vanished, the landscape appeared again.
And the result was decided.
A deep gash cut across my body—from my left shoulder down to my right abdomen. My clothes were drenched in crimson, and hot blood flowed freely…
Yet I was the only one left standing.
....
"…Quite the attack. Truly."
"Haa… haa… haa…"
Illusian's mist-forged spear—His mighty Dragon Slayer secret art—
My entire body was a torn and blood-soaked ruin. I knelt on one knee a short distance away, glaring up at me, but with nothing left to swing, nothing left to resist. I could barely breathe, let alone move.
...
"Hah… Like I said… there's no way a half-complete imitation like you could ever defeat me. I am the original. The true one. You are nothing but the lesser half."
"It's over. Accept your death quietly."
He dispelled the broken spear and formed a crude blade from pure mist—fragile, incomplete, barely holding its shape.
But for him, it didn't matter. Even a flimsy blade was enough to remove a head that could no longer fight back.
I stepped toward him slowly.
My instincts whispered, Kill Nightwalker.
His past doesn't matter.
To be whole, I must erase him.
....
"…No…"
"Hm?"
"…I… I can't… die here…"
With each step I took, I heard his voice—ragged, trembling, desperate.
Despite being unable to move, Nightwalker glared back at me with murderous determination, refusing to bow his head.
The battle was already decided.
So why? Why cling to life instead of accepting defeat?
I couldn't understand it.
....
"I don't… want to die… I won't die… I CAN'T DIE…!"
He coughed blood, his legs shaking violently as he forced himself upright, staring into my eyes as if trying to burn his will into me.
"...If it were the old me, I would have accepted death without regret. But now… I have people I must protect.
I want to live with my wife… and with our children.
I made a promise. That I would stay by Erza's side until the day she dies…That's why… I can't die."
"…If that is your final excuse, then there is nothing left to say. Die."
I raised my spear and swung down—yet just before the strike could land, a sharp cry echoed behind me.
A red-haired woman threw herself forward, stumbling across the ground before sprinting desperately to his side. She wrapped her arms around Nightwalker, shielding him with her body, and glared up at me.
Erza Nightwalker.
Because of her sudden interference, I twisted my blade to avoid killing her—but I couldn't avoid her completely. My redirected slash carved across her back, opening a deep diagonal wound.
"Kh… aaahhh!!"
"You…"
Blood the same color as her hair streamed down her back, soaking her cloak. Even as the pain shook her, she held Nightwalker tighter, eyes overflowing with tears.
"Please… I'm begging you. Ciel… spare him!"
She didn't care about her own wound. She simply clung to him and begged, voice trembling, eyes desperate. My hand shook around the sword's hilt.
But still—I raised my blade again.
I had already steeled my resolve.
The thing before me must die.
The empty voice inside my hollow half continued to scream it… Kill him.
I would obey.
"Move. There won't be another warning."
"I won't! I will NEVER let you take him! This man is my everything—my one and only husband, the father of our two children! If someone precious is about to die, no one in this world could just stand aside. If he dies, I have no reason left to live. If you must kill, then kill me first!"
"Erza… don't… please… run…"
"Don't say something that stupid! You promised! You swore you wouldn't die before me—that you would always stay by my side!"
"…Not my concern."
Their love, their tears—none of it reached me.
The world around me was losing its color.
The voice in my skull echoed louder—Kill. Kill. Kill.
If they wished to die together, then so be it. I would send them both.
"Fine. Then die as husband and wife."
"No—Erza, MOVE!"
"I won't! Even if I die, I won't move!"
I prepared to swing again—
But before the blade could fall, fire, wind, and steel shuriken rained down around me, circling and pinning my footing.
Annoyed by the interruption, I snapped my head toward the source.
There stood Natsu, Gajeel, and Wendy, all in battle stance, magic flaring.
Behind them, Lucy, Erza, Happy, Mystogan, Edolas soldiers, and countless Exceed formed a wall, staring at me with tense, frightened eyes.
"Ciel. The fight is already decided. Stop this."
"Hey, big bro. It's over. There's no reason to kill him. Don't stain your own hands."
"Please, Teacher Ciel! This isn't you… please stop!"
The three Dragon Slayers shouted at me as if pleading, and countless others stared with desperate eyes.
But even so… behind the grey veil covering my vision, none of their expressions reached me.
Their cries—meant to stop me—did not sound like words.
They were nothing but static. A broken noise. Empty.
No emotion stirred within me.
"My hands are already drenched in blood. And what do you mean 'this isn't like me'? There is no such thing as 'me' to begin with. All that matters right now… is killing the one before me and taking back the power that is mine."
"Ciel, stop. Even with only half your soul, you've lived just fine until now. So please… just stop."
"C-Ciel, please! That man—yes, he's our enemy, but he has a wife and a child! What happens to a child without their parents?! A child needs their parents to live! You can't—don't take that away!"
"Ciel, I begged you in the message too… and I'll beg again now, face-to-face. Please… don't take our master's life."
"Please! For little Setsura's sake—put down your sword, Commander of Earthland!"
Erza's voice, then Lucy's, then Mystogan's, then Coco's—one after another, they pleaded with me.
Then came the voices of the soldiers.
Then the Exceed.
Then an infant's cry.
But none of it reached me.
Their screams, their fear, their desperation—to me, it was nothing but noise.
Annoying. Unnecessary. Loud.
"Shut up. All of you. I need that power—
I need my complete self!"
"NO—!!"
"Kyaaaa!!"
"Someone stop him!"
"Oh heavens!!"
"CIEL!!"
"Teacher, PLEASE!!"
My hand trembled for only a heartbeat.
I crushed that hesitation—forcing strength into my grip—and swung my blade with everything I had.
A strike strong enough to cleave two people in a single stroke.
A blow meant to end everything.
This was it.
The impostor life he lived—the family, the happiness, that warm illusion—that wasn't mine.
Another me's story is irrelevant.
Only the true me deserves to exist.
So I swung down without mercy.
I felt the impact.
I even felt the muscles tighten around my blade.
But—
My blade did not cut the Nightwalker couple.
No—It could not.
The mist-forged blade I created was stopped—
impaled into a demonic arm that shot forward out of nowhere.
Blood trickled down its scaled surface, and on the other side of that same arm…a slender human arm trembled.
I turned—slowly—toward the owner of that hand.
And when I saw her, my eyes widened.
Her voice reached me—soft, but firm.
"Ciel… what do you think you're doing?"
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