Reinventing Magic: An Inventor's Tale -
Chapter 109: The Blinding Gambit
Chapter 109: The Blinding Gambit
A blinding flash erupted from Bryndis’ walls—a radiant surge of energy that consumed the battlefield in an instant. The Solflare Prism, an ancient artifact Kael had uncovered in Nexus’s archives, unleashed its full power, flooding the royal army’s vision with searing white light.
Lucius recoiled, his tactical mind screaming in alarm as his sight vanished. Around him, soldiers cried out—some dropping their weapons, others clutching their faces as if the light had burned them.
"My eyes!" a knight shrieked, stumbling blindly into his comrades.
The siege projectiles meant to shatter Bryndis’ walls struck an invisible barrier, dissipating harmlessly against its shimmering surface.
Torvin snarled, his scarred face twisted in fury as he forced his eyes open against the pain.
"Fire everything!" he bellowed, raising Ragnarok’s Maw high. "Destroy that wall!"
But the battlefield was in chaos. Archers loosed arrows blindly, their shots going wild. Mages fumbled their spells, their incantations cut short by disorientation. The royal army—once a disciplined force—now staggered like drunkards, their formations crumbling.
---
Victor’s voice roared over the din, sharp and commanding.
"Open the gates!"
The massive doors of Bryndis groaned as they parted, revealing the full might of its defenders. Victor and Pietro stood at the forefront, their weapons gleaming under the lingering radiance of the Solflare Prism. Behind them, 88,000 soldiers stood ready, their eyes shielded by enchanted visors.
"Charge!"
The Bryndis army surged forward like a tidal wave, their war cries shaking the earth. Victor led the vanguard, his greatsword cleaving through disoriented royal troops with brutal efficiency. Pietro moved like a wraith beside him, the Celestial Edge leaving trails of celestial fire in its wake as he cut down enemy officers.
The royal army, still reeling from the blinding assault, had no time to regroup.
Torvin’s vision swam with afterimages, his grip tightening around Ragnarok’s Maw as the blade pulsed hungrily. The crimson energy radiating from its core cast eerie shadows across his scarred face, his steel-gray eyes narrowing against the lingering brilliance of the Solflare Prism.
"Pathetic," he growled.
Around him, his men faltered—blinded, disoriented, their formations shattered. But Torvin? He had fought through worse.
With a roar, he swung the apocalyptic blade in a wide arc. "Void Rend!"
A wave of invisible force erupted outward, disintegrating the air itself. Bryndis soldiers who had charged too close simply vanished, their armor and flesh unraveling into nothingness. The ground beneath them fissured, blackened veins spreading like cracks in glass.
But for every man erased, three more took their place.
Pietro’s boots barely touched the earth as he lunged, Celestial Edge humming with divine energy. His body blurred, enhanced by the weapon’s Angelic Grace, his movements a silver streak against the chaos.
Torvin barely turned in time.
CLANG!
Celestial steel met obsidian hellfire, the impact sending shockwaves through both warriors. Pietro’s blade flared, its radiant edge pressing against the ever-shifting fractures of Ragnarok’s Maw.
"Pietro!," Torvin sneered, muscles straining as he forced Pietro back. "I will defenitely kill you this time!"
With a brutal twist, he unleashed Seismic Rupture, driving the blade into the earth. The ground beneath Pietro exploded, jagged spikes of blackened rock erupting like the maw of some great beast.
Pietro flipped midair, Celestial Edge flashing as he cut through the debris, his enhanced agility keeping him just ahead of destruction.
---
Meanwhile, Victor carved through the royal ranks like a storm given form. Dawnbreaker and Nightsbane moved as extensions of his will, their voidsteel edges leaving trails of darkness and crimson in their wake.
A knight in Mythril armor charged, halberd raised high. Victor sidestepped, Nightsbane flickering out—Pierce the Void. The blade phased through the knight’s defenses, sinking into his chest before he could react.
Another soldier lunged from behind. Victor didn’t turn.
"Moon Slash."
A crescent of dark energy erupted from Dawnbreaker, bisecting the attacker mid-stride. The lingering darkness clung to the fallen, sapping the strength of those who stepped too close.
---
Inside the Arcanum Forge’s control room, Kael watched the battle unfold through the holographic displays.
"Astra," he commanded.
The silver-haired guardian didn’t respond—he didn’t need to. His Spirit Crystal pulsed, and across the battlefield, strategic barriers shimmered into existence, deflecting lethal strikes meant for Bryndis soldiers.
Alice raised her hands, her own crystal glowing as she chanted silently. A volley of arcane bolts rained down on the royal army’s rear lines, scattering their reserves.
Kael’s fingers danced across the interface. "NEXUS, adjust the Solflare Prism’s refraction. Blind spots at coordinates 47-22 and 89-34."
"Acknowledged," the AI replied.
The prism’s light shifted, its radiance intensifying in key areas, forcing the royal mages to abandon their spell formations.
---
Torvin roared, Ragnarok’s Maw carving through another wave of soldiers. But Pietro was relentless, his blade a silver comet.
"Aether Strike!"
The Celestial Edge blazed with divine fury. Torvin barely raised his weapon in time. The impact sent him skidding back, his boots digging trenches into the earth.
For the first time, something flickered in his eyes—not fear, but recognition.
This wasn’t the same warrior he’d defeated a couple of days ago.
Pietro didn’t give him time to think. He lunged again, Celestial Edge aimed for Torvin’s throat.
The general grinned.
"Endbringer’s Call."
The world turned red.
A vortex of apocalyptic energy erupted from Ragnarok’s Maw, swallowing everything in its path. Pietro barely activated Celestial Shield in time—the barrier screamed as it resisted annihilation.
When the crimson storm faded, the battlefield around them was gone—replaced by a smoldering crater.
Pietro panted, his shield flickering. Torvin stood at the crater’s center, his blade pulsing like a dying star.
"Now," the general growled, "let’s see if you can survive this."
The rematch had only just begun.
The air itself trembled as Ragnarok’s Maw reached its zenith, its obsidian blade now wreathed in a storm of crimson annihilation.
Torvin’s seven mana cores burned like dying suns within him, flooding his veins with raw, unchecked power. His scarred face twisted into a feral grin—this was the might that had shattered nations.
Pietro’s instincts screamed at him to retreat. His body remembered—the last time he had faced this technique, it had nearly torn him apart. But retreat wasn’t an option.
"Victor!" he shouted.
The twin blades of Dawnbreaker and Nightsbane flashed as Victor lunged, his form a blur of darkness and crimson. "Shadow Surge!" His speed doubled, the trailing void energy disorienting Torvin’s senses just enough—
CLANG!
Torvin parried with a single contemptuous swing, the force sending shockwaves through the earth. "Two of you?" He laughed, the sound like grinding steel. "Still not enough."
With a roar, he unleashed Void Rend in a horizontal arc. The invisible wave of destruction erased everything in its path—soldiers, weapons, even the very air shimmered as it was unmade.
Pietro and Victor barely dodged, their enhanced reflexes the only thing keeping them alive.
---
Lucius watched from the rear lines, his sharp mind dissecting the battle’s flow. His fingers clenched around his tactical scroll.
"Fool," he hissed. Torvin had been baited into expending too much too soon. Worse, the Bryndis forces were adapting—their barriers materialized precisely where they were needed, their attacks surgically dismantling the royal army’s cohesion.
And the Baron? Still nowhere to be seen.
He seized a captain by the collar. "Rally the eastern flank! Form a phalanx—now!"
The man paled but nodded, scrambling to obey.
Lucius’ gaze flicked back to Torvin. The general was a force of nature, but even he couldn’t sustain Endbringer’s Call indefinitely. If the Baron entered the fray now—
A chill ran down his spine.
---
Alice moved like a whisper through the chaos, her Spirit Crystal pulsing as she wove spells with effortless precision. When Victor hurtled toward the wall, she was already there.
Her hand pressed against his back, halting his momentum with inhuman strength. The runes along her spine flared, absorbing the kinetic force.
"Alice," Victor breathed, his ribs aching from the impact.
"Master Kael’s orders," she said softly, her gray eyes scanning the battlefield. "You cannot face Torvin alone."
Victor grimaced. "We’re not winning this as is."
A faint glow emanated from Alice’s crystal. "Then we change the variables."
---
Torvin’s blade came down again, and this time, Pietro couldn’t evade fully. The edge grazed his shoulder, and instantly, his flesh burned—not from heat, but from the blade’s eroding touch. Blood darkened his sleeve.
Victor lunged, Dawnbreaker screaming with Moon Slash. The crescent of dark energy forced Torvin back a step—just enough for Pietro to recover.
"Annoying insects," Torvin snarled. He raised Ragnarok’s Maw high—
"Celestial Shield!" Pietro’s barrier flared to life.
"Pierce the Void!" Victor’s Nightsbane phased through Torvin’s guard—
Torvin moved.
His armored fist smashed into Victor’s ribs, the impact cracking bone. Before Victor could recover, Torvin’s blade came down—
A barrier of pure light erupted between them.
Torvin’s strike shattered it instantly—but the delay was enough.
Alice stood between them, her hands outstretched, her Spirit Crystal blazing.
"You—" Torvin’s eyes narrowed. "What are you?"
Alice didn’t answer. The ground beneath her feet warped as her Aether Core surged to life.
"Master Kael," she whispered. "Now."
---
Inside the Arcanum Forge, Kael’s fingers flew across the Arc Nexus.
"Astra," he said.
The guardian’s Spirit Crystal pulsed once.
On the battlefield, the air rippled.
Torvin barely had time to react before Astra materialized before him—Golem Mode activated. His silver-gray form now armored in layered Eldersilver, his fists crackling with spellfire.
Torvin grinned. "Finally. A challenge."
Astra said nothing.
His fist slammed into Torvin’s chest, sending the general skidding back ten paces.
The battlefield fell silent.
Then Torvin laughed.
"Good." He raised Ragnarok’s Maw, its core pulsing like a heartbeat. "Let’s see if you can handle this."
The blade’s fractures glowed crimson—and the sky itself began to tear.
Endbringer’s Call: Final Form.
The world trembled on the brink of annihilation.
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