A half-assed magic. While in theory it was made to gain absolute control over the space he was in, it was in fact just an extension of his mind.

  Probability alterations were still impossible for him, his mind unable to keep up with the calculation speed needed.

  Saki and Granbell were still fighting with all of their might, while Luka and Araka faced each other.

  While each fight looked like a stalemate, Luka had managed to finally break through and gain an overwhelming advantage in this 5-meter radius zone in which his senses were heightened to their maximum.

  Granbell, locked in his own struggle, seized an opening. He leaped in the air, his sword raised, and slammed it down on the dragon’s head with all of his might. The red-scaled creature recoiled from the impact, and while it did hurt it, the wound was far from deep enough to actually be fatal.

  The reverberation of the hit made Granbell’s arms wobble as he was pushed away by a violent body slam from the dragon.

  He hit the ground hard, rolling across the icy stone before forcing himself back up, gasping for breath. He then quickly jumped away before being squashed like a bug, and slashed the incoming stream of fire that escaped the dragon’s maw.

  Across the battlefield, Saki and Freya were engaged in a brutal, close-quarters struggle. The succubus was dexterously blocking each and every attack of the specter with her mana-imbued arms, sometimes even using her whip to gain some distance and her wings to use the flight to her advantage. While Saki wasn’t as skilled in hand-to-hand combat, she used her own persistence and durability to her advantage, making Freya click her tongue multiple times during the fight.

  “How are you not going down?!” the specter’s face contorted in annoyance as the little brown-haired succubus stood up again from being hit in the stomach.

  “I can do this all day,” she grinned, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she launched herself at the specter again.

  For her, it wasn’t a fight she needed to win. She just needed to stall enough time for Luka to actually do something.

  The parasitic demon and the young man were now close, one his axe readied to cleave the air, the other his left hand in his pocket, ready to throw another talisman.

  The axe of the Jarl glowed, the runes etched on it shining brightly as another set of icicles was formed, this time bigger and sharper. They shot toward him like frozen spears, aiming to skewer him where he stood.

  “Is that the only thing you can do?” Luka shot the worm a grin.

  Luka threw his talisman in advance, having sensed the shift of magical energy in the air, and anticipated the incoming summoning. The talisman exploded in a firestorm, melting the icicles in an instant.

  Araka’s grip on his axe tightened. Without missing a beat, he sliced through the air, using the sudden fog as cover. Luka barely had a second to react. Instinct kicked in—he ducked low, narrowly avoiding the strike. At the same time, he tossed another talisman behind Araka while pressing his hand against the frozen ground.

  But Araka had anticipated it.

  The Jarl stomped down hard.

  A web of cracks spread instantly beneath Luka’s feet, intricate frost patterns forming in an instant. Ice surged up like jagged spikes, summoned with ruthless precision.

  Luka moved to evade—but he was just a fraction of a second too late.

  A single ice stalactite speared through his boot, pinning his foot to the ground. A sharp, searing pain shot through his leg as blood seeped into the frozen battlefield. The sharp icicle shattered the bones of his foot and pierced the flesh as well as the skin, making him bite his cheek to not scream from the pain.

  “Finally got you,” Araka exhaled, his tone cold and exhausted from the fight. He raised his axe, ready to deliver the finishing blow.

  However, as the axe came crashing down, he vanished before reappearing right behind Araka.

  “Behind—?!” The Jarl turned his head in a panic, but Luka’s fist was already raised, his face filled with determination. His body glowed on three separate positions, and he chanted.

  “Svelto: Five!”

  It was the same as last time. His fist connected squarely with the Jarl’s head, snapping it out of its place.

  However, Araka was a parasitic worm. It looked like no matter how much damage he dealt to the host’s body, it didn’t really hurt the demon itself.

  And he couldn’t just save the Jarl anymore, as his heart wasn’t even beating anymore. Absolute Control couldn’t hear a single beat ever since he activated it.

  He hated it. He had hoped to at least save the Jarl who gave him a roof to sleep, as well as some food, but there was no other choice.

  The punch reverberated through the cave, sending shards of ice flying in the air from the shockwave. The Jarl’s feet were now disconnected from the ground, but he kept his hand firmly locked onto the handle of his great axe. His host’s head lolled unnaturally to the side, bones cracked beyond repair, but the parasite controlling him remained untouched.

  Luka exhaled sharply. “Time to end this.”

  His foot now free thanks to the short teleportation, he couldn’t yet move with the pain. So, he used the talisman he just put on the ground right before before being pinned by the icicle.

  It was a technique Kaeris used, different from teleportation itself in its inner workings, but with different uses.

  “Shrinking ground!” Luka shouted, and the talisman flared up to life.

  He took a single step.

  Space collapsed.

  The distance between him and Araka vanished in an instant. One moment, he was standing a few meters away, struggling to move with his injured foot—the next, he was already inside the Jarl’s guard, his fist inches away from the parasite-infested warrior’s chest.

  Araka’s eyes widened. He barely had time to react.

  All of Luka’s remaining talismans on his body activated at the same time. The reactor began to spin even further, the gatherer od now redirected to his body, no matter the consequences.

  He could feel the mana burning in his veins, the pressure threatening to blow up inside of him. Any hesitation could be fatal, any mistake could end up killing him.

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  Just like Julius, his body became a blade, sharp and made to kill.

  “Svelto: Maximum power!” he roared, his body cracking against the sheer pressure inside him. No, it was the lack of control of that pressure that made his body crack.

  His fist shot up, aimed toward the Jarl’s heart. It broke the sound barrier, making it seem like an arched blur of death.

  The instant Luka’s fist made contact, everything seemed to freeze.

  For a split second, there was only silence.

  Then—detonation.

  A shockwave of raw force erupted from the point of impact. The cavern quaked, the icy battlefield cracking beneath them as a violent burst of wind exploded outward.

  The Jarl’s body convulsed. The parasite shrieked—a distorted, otherworldly screech as Luka’s fist dug past the flesh, past the bones, past the rotting corpse that once belonged to a man—and found its true target.

  The vile, writhing bug hiding within.

  Araka’s true form—a pitch-black, grotesque, writhing centipede, half-embedded in the Jarl’s chest cavity—screeched. Its many legs thrashed, its black, glossy exoskeleton fracturing beneath Luka’s grip on it.

  With a yank, he pulled the insect outside, its long body sliding through the skin like a string being undone.

  Luka’s body trembled as he held the parasite in his hands, the black, writhing mass slipping through his fingers like oil. It fought, spasming violently, but it was too weak to resist now.

  With all of his remaining strength, Luka pulled the parasitic creature apart.

  A sickening crunch—then an eruption of black, putrid blood. The parasite’s body shuddered violently, spasming uncontrollably. Its legs twitched, and its grotesque mouth gaped open in one last soundless scream.

  The last of the writhing mass disintegrated, crumbling into nothingness under his hands.

  The cavern was silent now, save for the deafening pounding of Luka’s heart. His body screamed in agony, the pressure inside him finally breaking, the strain of the immense power he had summoned taking its toll. His arms were numb, his legs shaking as he struggled to remain standing.

  Freya looked in disarray as she watched her partner being defeated, and with a click of her tongue, she jumped back.

  “Hey, come back here!” Saki cried out to her, but her legs and wings were sore from the fight. She saw the specter disappear in the ground, her formless body making it easy to escape.

  The cavern rumbled with the deafening roar of the dragon, its fury filling the air as its massive body twisted and lashed out in all directions. The beast’s eyes blazed with an almost unnatural fire, its once controlled movements now a chaotic frenzy of rage.

  “Shit… The amulet!” Luka cursed through gritted teeth, his focus flickering as the tremors from the dragon's movements shook the cavern. The Jarl’s lifeless body shifted with the quake, moving further away from him with each violent rumble. Luka knew he had to get to that talisman—if he could just seize it, perhaps there was a chance to control the beast.

  Saki struggled to catch her breath, her legs heavy and her wings aching from the constant battle. She shot a glance at Luka, who was barely standing, his body trembling with exhaustion, blood dripping down his arm and legs, but still alive.

  However the dragon moved toward her, his tail sweeping against the ground. The icy ground beneath cracked, sending a wave of frost tearing through the battlefield. Embedded swords in the ground were sent flying dangerously everywhere, and the cave was beginning to shake menacingly.

  “Saki!” Luka’s voice was a strained rasp, barely audible over the dragon’s roar. He staggered toward her, fighting against the burning pain in his body, but the weight of his own magic usage was nearly too much to bear.

  But the dragon wasn’t slowing down.

  It came toward Saki with terrifying speed, its maw opening wide as it prepared to unleash another torrent of flame. Saki’s heart pounded in her chest, her wings dragging with every beat as she fought to stay airborne, the flames rushing toward her.

  “Get down you idiot!” Granbell shouted before slapping Saki from behind, making her fall just in time right below the stream of flames.

  The dragonkin, already moving to engage the beast, was caught directly in the blast.

  The searing heat engulfed him, his form lighting up like a comet as the fire swallowed him whole. His roar was drowned out by the sheer force of the flames, and for a split second, it seemed as if the battle had been lost.

  But then, a dark figure emerged from the swirling smoke and flames.

  Granbell, battered and singed, staggered, but he was still running. His face grimaced in pain, but his eyes fierce, unyielding, locked on the dragon.

  With a roar that shook the air, Granbell surged forward, his blade now wreathed in flames. His hands gripped the hilt with a strength that defied his exhaustion, and in one fluid motion, he struck with all his might.

  The tip of his blade shot toward the dragon’s gaping maw, and with a mighty clash, it pierced the beast's interior, slamming into the soft tissue beyond. The flames wavered around the blade, but Granbell did not falter. The dragon recoiled, its roar of pain deafening as the once unstoppable force of nature was finally hurt under the weight of the strike.

  The once-mighty dragon staggered, its wings flapping wildly, desperately trying to regain control. In a frenzy, it slammed its massive head into the ceiling of the cavern, its powerful body shaking the ground beneath them.

  The cave groaned under the strain. The sound of cracking stone echoed as the pillars supporting the cavern began to buckle under the weight. The ceiling above them creaked, threatening to collapse at any moment.

  With quick thinking, Luka jumped on the Jarl’s body to catch the Amulet, knowing there was a chance Freya could still snatch it with her phasing abilities.

  He yanked the amulet from its resting place, barely dodging falling debris as the ceiling began to crumble. The world was spinning. Time was running out.

  Suddenly, he felt a strong grip around his waist. His heart skipped as he realized it was Saki, her wings spread wide as she lifted him off the ground.

  "Hang on!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

  Without hesitation, the dragon, now furious, beat its wings and flew upward with a deafening roar, tearing through the crumbling ceiling. Saki and Luka followed in the dragon’s wake, the winds howling around them as they ascended into the opening above.

  "Granbell!" Saki called, spotting the dragonkin below, leaping from rock to rock, making his way toward the new opening.

  With one final push, the trio broke free of the collapsing cavern. The vast expanse of the open sky stretched before them, its stark, open blue a sharp contrast to the dim, collapsing underground world they had just escaped. The dragon, its wings beating with immense power, created violent gusts that hammered them from every direction. Despite the fury of the winds, Saki and Luka pushed through the air, their focus locked on the dragon now rising higher into the sky.

  But the gap between them and the beast was widening, the dragon’s speed almost supernatural. Within moments, it was nothing but a dot, fading rapidly into the distance.

  “It’s getting away…” Saki muttered under her breath, her wings faltering, the last reserves of her strength fading. The wind against them grew stronger, and her body, already worn from battle, struggled to stay aloft.

  “Hey, hey! Wake up Saki!”Luka shouted, his voice strained, panic creeping into his tone as he felt the sharp descent of their fall. He tried to steady himself, but Saki’s grip on him loosened, and in an instant, she lost her hold.

  “Saki!” Luka cried out, his heart skipping a beat as the ground below began to approach at breakneck speed.

  But just as the ground seemed too close, a blur of motion appeared above him. Granbell’s silhouette emerged from the jagged opening, his figure moving with swift precision. He leapt forward, reaching out with both hands to catch the falling Luka just in time, his grip firm despite his own exhaustion.

  "Got you!" Granbell grunted, the force of his landing throwing dust into the air, but he held onto Luka, steadying them both. His gaze never wavered from the distant form of the dragon, still shrinking in the sky.

  Saki, now supported by Granbell’s steady hand on Luka, managed to stabilize herself. With a grateful nod to the dragonkin, she took a deep breath, her wings once again flapping stronger, though still weighed down by the relentless battle.

  Granbell shot a glance at the receding dragon before muttering, “There’s no way we’re catching it like this.”

  “You’re right…” Luka sighed, his hands resting on his knees as he took deep breaths. “Let’s just be glad we came back alive.”

  Granbell grunted in agreement and then noticed Luka’s foot, still bleeding and clearly in pain. Without a word, he ripped a piece of cloth from his tattered clothing, singed from the dragon’s fire. “Wrap this tightly around your foot.”

  “Thanks,” Luka replied, gritting his teeth as he carefully wrapped the cloth around his foot. The pressure felt good, but the pain didn’t fully subside. At least it was a good way to stop the bleeding.

  “Let’s not stay here,” the dragonkin continued, his eyes darting around. “Freya is still around, and the ground beneath might collapse at any moment.”

  “Right,” Luka nodded in agreement. “Let’s go.”

  Despite their exhaustion, they moved swiftly through the snow-covered landscape, the biting cold stinging their exposed skin. Their breaths came in heavy puffs, visible in the frigid air. Each step was labored, their bodies sore from the intense battle, but they pushed forward.

  Granbell led the way, his instincts sharp as ever, while Luka and Saki followed closely, keeping their wits about them. The landscape stretched out before them, the open sky above offering little comfort.

  They soon came back to the village of Dreikheim, however, something had changed. The villagers who were controlled by Araka were now confused and lost, but in good health, it seemed. Most of them came back to their usual activities, but some were still looking lost, as if they were waking from a long, disorienting dream.

  “Something’s wrong,” Saki muttered, scanning the villagers with suspicion.

  Granbell nodded, his grip tightening on his sword. “They’re not the same as they were.”

  Luka stepped forward, unsure how to address the villagers. “Are you all... alright?” His voice carried, but there was an edge of uncertainty in his tone.

  One of the villagers, an elderly woman, looked up at them, her eyes filled with confusion but also a hint of recognition. “You... you saved us?” she asked, her voice trembling.

  “I’m asking if you are okay,” Luka repeated gently, stepping closer to the woman.

  She nodded slowly, her hands clutching her chest as if for reassurance. “I am... I think. I just feel a little sick, that’s all,” she said, her voice faint.

  Granbell’s keen nose flared as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing in thought. “Perhaps the bugs inside them are dead, but something still lingers,” he mused aloud, his gaze drifting over the villagers. “It might take a while for them to fully recover.”

  Luka sighed deeply and slumped to the ground. “That’s a relief…”

  The elderly woman’s eyes shifted, narrowing as she saw Luka’s foot, still bloody and wrapped in makeshift cloth. “You’re not okay, young man,” she said, her voice stern despite her frailty. She pointed to his blood-soaked boot. “Wanna come to my house and fix that?”

  Luka gave a dry chuckle, feeling the pain shoot through his leg with every movement. “Gladly,” he replied, a tired smile tugging at his lips.

  With that, the elderly woman turned and led them toward her modest home, the others still drifting aimlessly behind them. Though they had won the battle against Araka’s control, it was clear that there was much work left to do—and the road to true freedom for the villagers would be a long one.

  However, seeing all these freed villagers after such a fight…

  He didn’t feel like a monster anymore.