Machina Arcanis: Two Worlds Collided
Chapter 143. The Curse of Brilliance

Three years ago, 4th July, 2535.

“Zetius~You!” Astrid yanked him by the collar. Her immense strength lifted him effortlessly. She had reverted to using his real name, no longer calling him by his nickname like she used to.

Zetius didn’t flinch. His red eyes glared down at her, unwavering. They shimmered faintly with an ethereal glow.

Such a condescending look, Astrid’s mind screamed, and her blood boiled.

She gritted her teeth. “You know how hard I’ve worked for this…” Her voice faltered for a moment, then reignited. “Zetius, abdicate the title. Now!” She demanded sharply.

His expression dimmed. He wished he could do what his friend asked, but it was the curse of knowing too much. He understood the logic behind Master Ignius’s selection far better now.

And that undeniable truth… was cruel.

He knew better than Astrid that she could never become a Celestius. Not because of her sweat, blood, and tears. Not for lack of effort or diligence. No—

The singular truth was her innate arcane potential.

This brutal reality was engraved into the arcane hierarchy. Only those who could surpass the natural order were granted a seat among the Celestius mages of the Zodiac Council.

Astrid Ember Lorne simply wasn’t enough. No matter how hard she tried. Worst of all, Ignius had known this all along.

That fact haunted Zetius like a plague, buried depth in his soul.

Her gaze pierced him like a blade. He averted his eyes. “I... can’t do that,” he confessed. His brilliance became his burden, the very knowledge of the truth torturing him while she remained blind to it.

Astrid’s eyes twitched. A heatwave surged through her. Before she knew it, her fists clenched, knuckles white.

A loud clap reverberated through the dojo, followed by a jarring crash.

Her right hook sent Zetius sprawling across the tatami mats.

His fingers reached for his lip, feeling the numbing pain and blood. His jaw tensed with matching fury.

“Liar!” she roared, voice brimming with rage. “You told me you never wanted power! Look at you now, tarnishing everything we built, all for power. Was any of it real, you brat?! Did it mean nothing to you?!”

“Astrid, you should’ve known,” Zetius snapped, rising to his feet. “You were never going to compete with the highest of mages. Even reaching Lunarius status would be a stretch for you.” Little did she know, his thirst for power was just a reflection of her.

Astrid grimaced, her frustration boiling over. “Stop patronising me!” she screamed and charged with violent intent. Her hands flashed with a red glow.

Zetius’s eyes widened. His body reacted on instinct.

“Empyrion~Slam!” she chanted.

Flames surged around her fist as she hurled it toward him.

“Magnetos!” Zetius cast, raising a barrier to intercept.

Her flaming strike collided with his arcane shield. The impact shattered the defensive magnetic field. The resulting shockwave launched him across the dojo, slamming him into the wooden wall.

Timber cracked and splintered. Zetius’s body exited through the breach, tumbling over the stone pavement outside.

Panting heavily, Astrid had put everything into that first punch. She stood at the edge of the shattered wall, watching him writhe through bloodshot eyes.

Zetius’s head throbbed. Pain screamed from his chest and limbs. Yet he stood, gloriously defiant as he wiped the blood from his chin.

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“See?” he said, cocking his head. “You can’t even finish me, even when you give it everything you’ve got.” He was right, but his arrogance was unchecked.

“YOU!” Astrid roared and lunged, swinging with her left. Zetius blocked with his palm. She followed with her right. He spun and vanished, stepping back with uncanny speed.

She skidded to a halt, panting. “Stop running!” she growled, lunging again.

Zetius sidestepped left. Astrid slammed into the ground with a meaty thud. She rolled with a muffled grunt.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a red-golden hue. Zetius’s shadow stretched long across the pavement, falling over Astrid’s face. With the sunlight behind him, she squinted, unable to read his expression clearly.

“Show me that you deserve the title! Show me that you can win!

“Yes, I will…” Zetius replied coldly. His expression warped, red eyes faintly glowing with otherworldly light. It was terrifying even for her.

A tear, something Zetius hadn’t seen in a long time, streamed down Astrid’s flushed skin. With a swift motion, she rolled to her side and immediately pushed herself to her feet.

Her mind focused, conjuring the might of a dragon and the eruption of a volcano. Mana surged through her, setting her muscles ablaze. Her triceps and biceps bulged with strength, bones condensed and fortified, and her tendons grew unnaturally flexible.

Light seeped through the gaps between her fingers as she raised her right hand and thundered her chant. “Dynamis!”

Her hair lifted in the still air, glowing red like the evening sun. The tears on her cheeks evaporated as Dynamis amplified her physical strength to rival even that of mighty beasts or a 100-tonne machine.

In front of her, Zetius parted his legs and lowered himself into a fighting stance. Four fingers extended, one arm held forward. He smirked, feeling his blood pump with excitement.

“YAAAA!” Astrid roared.

In a fraction of a second, she was beside him. Her leg arced toward his head. Zetius’s instincts flared, and he raised his forearm in time to guard.

The impact sent him flying, tumbling several metres across the dirt before regaining his balance and landing on one knee.

Pain shot up his arm, followed quickly by numbness. He grunted. “Not bad.”

Suddenly, her body blurred in his periphery. Her fist came from behind. He spun to meet the blow—

It hit.

His body twisted mid-air before he manoeuvred himself, landing gracefully on the tip of his foot.

Blood dripped from his lips, Zetius saw red.

“You really, really pissed me off,” he shouted, as Astrid surged forward again.

She recoiled on her left foot and transferred immense force into her right hook.

“Too predictable!” Zetius veered sideways. Before Astrid could recover, he rammed his shoulder into her with full force.

Astrid slammed face-first into the ground, grunting in exasperation.

Now it was his turn to show her what he was truly capable of.

He pictured a devastating meteor, its enormous flaming tail streaking across the sky. The heavens trembled with catastrophic fury. Its sheer presence could eclipse an entire town.

Primal. Raw.

A whirlwind coiled around him. The surrounding air evaporated under intense heat. Zetius felt every fibre of his being refined, remade. Strength. Agility. Endurance. Flexibility. Divine.

His silver hair fluttered with the rising wind.

“YAH!” Astrid lunged forward, desperate to interrupt his casting.

But in his trance-like state, Zetius had already anticipated it. He stepped lightly aside, narrowly avoiding her strike.

“Don’t you dare look down on me!” she shouted, shifting her weight. Her torso twisted. Her right hook arced—

Zetius swatted her with a casual backhand. The very air cracked with a thunderous shockwave. The very ground erupted into a crater.

Astrid shot backwards, crashing into a concrete wall, then through it, and slamming into the house behind.

The building crumbled under the force. White smoke and dust rose as its structure gave way.

Then silence.

Zetius stared at his hand, now steady, the power fading from it.

“I didn’t even finish the spell... If I had, I could’ve killed her.” A conceited grin spread across his face.

Then the trance broke.

“Hells... I really hurt her this time~ASTRID!” he panicked, scrambling toward the shattered fence.

“Astrid?!” he called out.

Through the hole, the entire three-storey house had collapsed. She had to be buried under slabs of concrete.

Is this my doing? But I didn’t mean it! His resolve faltered under the weight of his guilt.

Standing near the ruins was a white mage, hands clasped neatly behind his back. His long, white hair swayed gently in the wind.

“Master Ignius?” Zetius blurted, rushing toward him.

“Go, Zetius,” Ignius commanded sternly.

The boy frowned. “But—”

“Go.” The master repeated, his voice strained.

Reluctantly, Zetius bowed and turned away, his heart heavy with guilt.

This was the burden all great powers demanded. Strength without mercy, consequence without warning.