Amid the overwhelming pressure bearing down like a colossal wave, Zekhtau’s roar thundered across the battlefield. He stood unshaken at the very center of the conflict, utterly unfazed by the team’s attacks. Instead, the situation only grew more dire. The wind picked up unnaturally, yet Mirelle, who remained in her assigned position, stayed calm—steadily chanting the spell they had planned. Not a trace of hesitation showed on her face.
Slowly, the wind swirling around her compressed into a single point. The magical energy in her hands glowed a deep crimson, then burst into a towering pillar of flame that surged toward the enemy. The inferno consumed the metal soldiers, the sizzle of burning steel echoing throughout the battlefield. Their movements began to slow, but Zekhtau merely observed with chilling indifference.
“You really believe flames of this caliber can halt me?” he mocked. “That’s nowhere near enough. If you think such feeble magic can bring me despair, you’re sorely mistaken!”
Mirelle ignored his taunts and altered the flow of power in her hands according to plan. The once-roaring pillar of fire vanished almost instantly, replaced by a surge of ice-cold water that enveloped the remaining metal soldiers. Their heat-resistant armor began to crack under the intense cold. The sharp sound of fracturing steel filled the air. Everything was going as intended.
Robots that had once advanced with fearless determination crumbled into heaps of twisted scrap. Even the drones in the sky, their rotors spinning moments before, came to a frozen halt as though time itself had stopped. Zekhtau surveyed the scene with growing displeasure, his crimson eyes gleaming. “Who dared devise a plan like this? I never taught Osiris to resort to such tricks!”
“Sometimes the creativity you look down on,” Akira countered, his voice unwavering, “is precisely what wins the war.”
Zekhtau seethed with rage, launching himself at Akira with greater ferocity than ever before. His blade whipped through the air at blinding speed. Akira retreated just in time to avoid a fatal slash, twin swords at the ready for a counterstrike. Every movement revealed a confidence forged through rigorous training—he was prepared for the storm.
“Begin the final plan!” Akira whispered over the communicator. Positioned behind Zekhtau, Draco sprang into action, channeling his gravitational magic into a precise kick to Zekhtau’s leg. The added weight slowed their colossal foe down—if only a little.
But Zekhtau was far from stopped. He barreled forward, too blinded by fury to notice that the ground around him was quickly becoming slick with water from Mirelle’s spell.
“Jump!” someone shouted from behind. Akira immediately leaped off the wet surface—just in time for it to freeze over in the blink of an eye. Zekhtau, still charging at full speed, lost his footing on the icy ground and slid across the battlefield in a thunderous crash of scraping metal.
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“You said you were worried about me,” Mirelle called out from behind the dispersing smoke, “so don’t make me worry about you instead!” Her eyes shone with confidence at the flawless execution of their plan.
As the fog thinned, a gleam of triumph broke through. Mirelle stepped out of the rear line, a faint magical radiance emanating from her. The ice she had conjured glittered like gemstones under the light. Trapped on that treacherous surface, Zekhtau stumbled and slammed against rubble with every attempt to regain balance, unable to break free.
The rest of the team refused to let this opening go to waste. They unleashed a barrage of long-range attacks on Zekhtau. From the back ranks, Uncle Pong lobbed soda bombs one after another, each explosion echoing with a hiss of pressurized mist. Mirelle conjured even more potent spells, her magic pounding Zekhtau’s massive frame over and over. Little Eve fired off a powerful energy cannon, its beam streaking across the battlefield in a brilliant line.
Draco, lacking a proper ranged attack, tried throwing scrap metal laced with gravitational magic. On his first throw, he overdid the weight, causing the hunk of metal to crash too soon. The second time, he underpowered it, and the piece drifted through the air like a paper airplane. He stared at the last shard in his hand and let out a silent sigh.
Nearby, Little Wallie, having witnessed Draco’s failed attempts, offered him a sympathetic smile. Embarrassed, Draco fidgeted with the metal shard, wishing more than ever for a proper long-range move like everyone else.
Amid the relentless barrage on Zekhtau, Akira moved forward. He glanced at Mirelle, standing not far away. “Mirelle, give me a Water buff.”
She nodded, channeling a surge of water element into Akira, whose body began to glow with a faint blue light. He raised both his swords, shifting one into a sheath-like hold reminiscent of the stance he had taken against the Kraken. The solid ground underfoot bolstered his confidence, and though he wasn’t actually underwater, Mirelle’s water-infused magic gave him a decisive edge.
Gripping his blades firmly, Akira bellowed, “Let’s finish this!”
He softly uttered the name of his technique: “Starblade Style: Double X.”
He slashed, sending four arcs of water-imbued energy slicing through the air—two diagonal crosses that converged with pinpoint accuracy. The combined force struck Zekhtau’s body with a deafening crash of metal being torn apart. An eight-pointed star of cracks tore across his frame.
Zekhtau shuddered, the sharp sound of splintering steel echoing in the air as his massive form trembled and went still. The red glow in his eyes gradually began to dim.
“You think you’ve destroyed me?” His voice rasped, yet still carried a mocking edge. “I’m nothing but a fraction of what’s yet to come…”
Before he could finish, his body froze in place, as if someone had cut the strings of a lifeless puppet.
An eerie silence settled over the battlefield. The explosions ceased, and every eye fixed on Zekhtau’s inert figure, poised like a statue. Lowering his swords, Akira inhaled deeply, then raised one hand high.
“We did it!” His triumphant shout echoed all around.
A chorus of cheers erupted from the team. People rushed together in celebration. Uncle Pong let out a hearty laugh, waving excitedly to his army of robots. Little Wallie cranked up a lively song, the music booming through the clearing. Little Pung, caught up in the exhilaration, broke into a breakdance routine once again, while Little Eve—keeping her cool—fired a shot skyward, like fireworks for their hard-earned victory.
From high atop the wall, Yue gazed down through tears and a gentle smile. Draco walked over to Akira, giving him a hearty pat on the shoulder and a laugh. “So, did you survive just on luck or what?”
Standing off to one side, Mirelle watched them with a soft grin. “We… we actually did it,” she murmured, her voice trembling with relief.
Elina stepped away from the defensive line. Though her face remained calm, there was a glimmer of hope in her eyes. “This is only the beginning. Let’s not get complacent.”
Akira turned to face the team, each member brimming with pride and grinning from ear to ear. Tightening his grip on his sword, he spoke in a firm voice. “This is just the first step. We’ll keep on fighting… together.”
Their shouts of affirmation echoed across the flames and fallen debris. Where the battlefield had been suffocating with tension moments before, a renewed sense of hope now glowed brightly for all to see.