Capítulo 237: Vryndall VI
This voice wasn't Luna. It resonated differently—deeper, ancient, carrying a weight and authority that seemed to echo through my very bones.
Before I knew it, the battlefield had vanished. In its place was a vast field of flowers, yellow carnations swaying under a warm, gentle breeze. It was the kind of place that felt like a distant memory, a peaceful scene hidden somewhere deep in the crevices of the mind. Everything seemed real—the earth beneath my feet, the brush of wind against my face. I crouched, brushing my fingers over a nearby flower, feeling the soft petals between my fingertips. Even the bark of a tree under my hand felt solid, textured, as if it was no illusion.
'Is this... a mindscape?' I wondered, glancing around. Such perfect sensory replication—the smells, the warmth of the sun, the vividness of the colors. This level of magic was no small feat. Only an Archmage, or someone even more powerful, could create something like this.
But who could it be? And why?
"Finally, we meet," a voice echoed, now distinct and coming from just behind me. It wasn't simply in my mind anymore; it had taken form. I turned slowly, feeling a strange anticipation.
And there, standing among the flowers, was the source of the voice—someone I had never met, yet felt inexplicably drawn to.
My eyes went wide, a shock rolling through me as I stared at him. My body shook as if every part of me was rebelling against the sight before me.
"Nice to meet you, transmigrator," he said, his azure eyes locking onto mine with a calm that felt almost haunting.
It was Arthur Nightingale—the original Arthur, the one whose life I had stepped into, whose body I now possessed.
'How?' The thought raced through my mind. I had wondered, in those quiet moments, if some part of the original Arthur still existed, if I was merely in a loop, or if I was him all along with altered memories. But here, facing him, I knew. This was the answer. I had truly transmigrated. And now, Arthur Nightingale himself stood before me.
"What... what am I?" The words slipped out before I could think, my voice barely more than a whisper.
He shook his head, a faint, wry smile touching his lips. "Too early for that," he said. "You're too weak to understand. But I can help you, since your current self isn't capable of touching even Resonance."
In a single moment, he moved, bridging the distance between us in the blink of an eye. His hand rose, his fingers pressing gently against my forehead.
"Leave it to me, transmigrator," he murmured, his voice quiet but firm, carrying a weight that wrapped around my consciousness and pulled me into a deep, consuming darkness.
And then, silence.
__________________________________________________________________________________
Rachel felt the strain tightening like a vice around her body as she poured every ounce of her magic into healing the three still able to fight. But one by one, they fell, leaving Arthur standing alone with the enemy's astral blade hovering inches from him.
A wave of desperation crashed over her, sharp and unyielding. 'Arthur can't die.' Not him. Not now. Not the one she had come to trust, the one she… liked. But she was too far away, too drained, too powerless to intervene.
And then, as though a spell had shifted the very fabric of the air around them, everything changed.
Arthur moved, sidestepping the lethal blade with a fluid grace, and before she could comprehend, he was at her side, sweeping her into his arms. For a moment, Rachel found herself in a strange embrace—held close, safe. Then he set her gently back on her feet.
She looked up, her heart pounding. He was smiling. But his eyes... they were different, distant. This wasn't the Arthur she knew.
Without a word to the others, Arthur turned, letting his sword spin lazily in his hand as if testing its weight. His gaze held only his opponent now, assessing, almost amused.
"Not bad," he murmured, examining his own hands with a strange glint of satisfaction. "So, it's Soul Resonance this time. Interesting."
Rachel could only watch, feeling a chill rise within her. This Arthur was someone—or something—else entirely.
Arthur glanced at his opponent, a casual smirk crossing his face as he rested the sword on his shoulder. "You know," he drawled, "you're a lucky guy."
The enemy's brow furrowed, a flicker of uncertainty clouding his hardened expression.
"You're about to go down in history," Arthur continued with a grin, "but, well, probably not in the way you hoped."
The man's face tightened in irritation, but Arthur didn't waste any more words. He shifted, holding his sword out as layers of enhanced aura began to ripple along the blade's edge. But this time, something had changed. The aura didn't merely coat the blade; it resonated with it, amplifying its power.
A glint of recognition sparked in Arthur's eyes as he murmured, almost to himself, "Interesting. Looks like he left me something useful after all." He closed his eyes, drawing a long, measured breath. With each inhale, the aura compressed and refined, transforming into something beyond its usual form. The energy was neither pure astral energy nor simple enhanced aura. It hovered between, an elevated force Arthur had only touched on once before—a pseudo-astral energy he'd used against Jack Blazespout.
The weapon thrummed, now infused with a power that pulsed like a heartbeat, something greater than aura yet not quite astral. Opening his eyes, Arthur's gaze was sharp, almost predatory, his body moving with an eerie, controlled grace as he advanced.
The enemy shifted, clearly unsettled by the sudden surge in Arthur's energy. But Arthur gave him no time to recover. In a burst of speed, he closed the gap between them, his blade flashing with the compressed energy as he swung. The force of his strike shattered the air, sending tremors through the ground as the blade crashed against the enemy's defense.
A startled expression crossed the man's face as his own blade buckled under the impact, the pseudo-astral energy biting into his defenses. He staggered back, a flicker of fear in his eyes, realizing the gulf between them had closed.
Yet, true astral energy remained superior to its imitation. And, as if to drive the point home, the enemy's astral blade overpowered Arthur's in a direct clash, sending his sword skidding back.
But Arthur's confident smirk never wavered. He moved with a dancer's grace, weaving around the Ascendant-ranker's strikes. His sword flickered and split, multiplying like shadows in a lantern's glow as he executed Illusion Sword, each copy a feint designed to unsettle and overwhelm. His opponent's frustration was palpable, his composure fraying as he ground his teeth and brought forth his Grade 4 technique in a furious attempt to keep up.
Arthur, however, was far from done. With deliberate control, he drew his blade back and let out a measured exhale. An ominous tension rippled through the air, freezing everyone's attention on him. This wasn't the signature speed of God Flash—no, this was something far beyond it.
Arthur's form seemed to blur, blending into the dimness around him like patches of midnight punctuated by bursts of white. His figure fractured and scattered, dots of light diffusing through the air in a strange, quiet rhythm, until all that remained was an expanse of cold, searing brightness.
This was White Flash.
As he moved, his strikes became blinding, a relentless cascade that the enemy's astral blade struggled to counter. In those moments, it was as though Arthur had vanished, replaced by an endless streak of white light, each flash carrying a quiet power that pressed forward like the weight of stars.
Under the shroud of White Flash, Arthur became a seamless blur, his form blending into streaks of blinding light that weaved around the enemy's defenses with relentless precision. Each movement carried a silent, calculated ferocity; his strikes flowed from one to the next, giving his opponent no room to breathe. The enemy's astral blade, formidable in its own right, strained under the assault, each clash sending sparks that dissipated into the air.
With every pass, Arthur's blade brushed close, his attacks forcing the Ascendant-ranker to pour more of his precious astral energy into defense. Arthur ducked low, pivoting as he feinted a strike from the left before whipping around to slice from the right. The enemy barely managed to parry, his movements growing more desperate as he burned through his reserves.
Arthur's footwork danced in tune with his blade, using bursts of wind and gravity magic to shift and accelerate, each step calculated to keep his opponent off-balance. He spun out of the path of a heavy downward strike, slipping into the enemy's blind spot, and then angled his sword for a precise cut across the wrist, forcing the Ascendant-ranker to recoil and redouble his defenses.
The enemy tried to counter with a fierce upward swing, but Arthur sidestepped, slashing his blade diagonally across the opponent's chest. The strike forced another burst of astral energy in defense, and with each clash, the once-limitless energy reserve of the Ascendant-ranker showed signs of fraying. Arthur sensed it—the subtle ebb, the strain in his foe's movements.
Without pausing, he dove in with a new intensity, White Flash blending into Tempest Dance Technique, an unbroken chain of strikes that seemed to rain down from all sides at once. His blade blurred as he poured everything into his attacks, forcing his opponent to summon more and more astral energy just to hold him off.
Finally, the Ascendant-ranker faltered, his arm trembling under the strain, his astral energy nearly depleted. Arthur seized the opening, shifting his blade into a precise downward slash. The enemy lifted his sword to block, but it was too late—Arthur's blade carved through his opponent's weakened defenses, the pseudo-astral energy flaring as it pierced the final remnants of resistance.
The enemy staggered, his strength utterly drained. Arthur withdrew his sword, the light dimming as he took a steadying breath, victorious yet vigilant, his gaze never leaving the defeated foe.
Status de energia semanal
-- Ranking de
Poder 
-- Pedra de
Poder