"I really did underestimate you."
Spur ground his teeth as he spoke.
He had never imagined that a supreme-tier spell of such scale and destructive power could be cast by an ant who hadn't even reached the Saint tier.
By the time he realized what was happening, Hel had already turned the tables on him.
A mental world does make its wielder nearly invincible within it—but even a world has a limit to how much damage it can withstand.
High-burst, large-scale supreme spells are precisely the best way to exceed that limit and shatter a mental world.
Both Flora's Ball and Descent of the Yellow Springs were capable of destroying mental worlds.
The difference was how they did it.
Spur had relied on brute force: My spell is strong enough, so your world will break.
Hel, on the other hand, played dirty.
She dumped corrupted "filth" straight into his world.
His World of Hundred Flowers was built on the Law of Flowers, which itself was merely a branch of the Life Law—specifically, the law governing living organisms.
His flowers possessed incredible vitality, yes.
But how could they possibly contend with the Law of the Yellow Springs?
After all, the Yellow Springs Law governs death itself—the end of all living things.
This was pure attribute suppression.
Hel had shamelessly used a higher-tier Authority to crush an old man like him.
But Spur was no ordinary figure.
He had been active on the continent for over a thousand years, a living legend, the 71st seat of the Seventy-Two Holy Inquisitors.
He had suppressed or sealed so many witches that he'd long lost count.
He had even witnessed mental worlds being shattered before.
So he quickly steadied his mind.
Looking up at Hel, who stood high above him, Spur sneered coldly.
"So this is how a nouveau riche fights—no technique whatsoever.
In that case, let me show you what time can accomplish."
As he spoke, he casually knocked away dozens of blood-red ghostly hands that were tearing at him.
Then he pulled out a board from his spatial ring—woven from countless vines and covered in runes.
He bit his finger and pressed the blood onto it.
At the same time, he began chanting complex incantations.
If one listened carefully, they would realize that although he was alone, seven different voices were speaking at once.
Sevenfold casting.
The pride of this veteran Holy Inquisitor—and the foundation of his ability to cast supreme-tier spells at terrifying speed.
But Hel had never been the type to stand still and let someone finish their chant.
With a wave of her hand, she invoked the Authority of Death.
The Yellow Springs water that had flooded the Life World surged upward, transforming into dozens of massive blood-red dragons that crashed toward Spur.
This was pure energy, not structured magic.
Its form was loose and unstable.
Against a heavily armored knight, it might lack killing power.
But against a fragile mage?
It was more than enough.
Once the Yellow Springs water completely engulfed him, its deathly properties would erase him with ease.
However, at that moment, the Thorn of Agony—already torn apart and withering—released its final roar.
Countless thorny vines transformed into thick, layered barriers, completely encasing Spur.
The blood-red dragons smashed into the defenses again and again.
Each layer of vines withered into dead branches, torn apart by the ghostly hands.
Yet every time one layer fell, another instantly replaced it.
Though it lacked a mental world of its own, the Thorn of Agony was still a true Saint-tier magical beast.
Its defense and vitality far surpassed that of ordinary Saints.
And so, the battle turned into a grueling war of attrition.
Time passed—how long, no one knew.
At last, when the final drop of Yellow Springs water struck the vine barrier, the now completely withered thorns could endure no more.
A gentle breeze passed.
The Thorn of Agony's massive body began to collapse.
Dead vines fell into the Yellow Springs below, sending up massive, blood-red waves that pushed drifting plant remains farther away.
When the last vine fell, Spur was finally revealed.
In his hands, he held the alchemical board.
Above it floated a small, phantom tree.
It was formed from countless intertwined vines, its branches bearing many unopened flower buds.
Yet all the buds were withered, unable to bloom again.
"What is the Authority of Flowers?"
Spur gazed at the illusory tree with fanatical obsession, murmuring softly, as if Hel's attacks didn't matter at all.
In truth, her renewed assault had been blocked by a strange force field.
Hel immediately understood:
His supreme spell was already complete. That barrier was part of the spell itself.
Unless she shattered the spell entirely, she could not break through his defense.
But sitting still was never an option.
Hel raised her left hand—the spell she had been preparing already condensed.
She clenched her fist toward Spur.
[Supreme Death Magic: Soul Obliteration.]
The strongest single-target death spell.
It ignored all defenses and magic, striking directly at the enemy's soul.
It could crush a soul into dust in an instant.
The only way to survive it was to dodge faster than Hel herself could react.
Hel smiled as she looked at Spur.
Protected by supreme magic, yet also immobilized at the center of it—
Does he even have room to dodge?
In the next instant, the spectral hand pierced into Spur's body.
But to Hel's surprise, it passed straight through him without resistance.
Boom.
Spur's body exploded into countless petals that scattered through the air.
A gentle breeze followed.
Flowers bloomed out of nothingness, spreading across the entire world.
Even the dark clouds in the sky and the blood-red seas below gained a strange hint of vitality under the pink petals.
Then Spur's voice echoed through the void.
"Among the three Authorities of flora—
The Authority of Trees represents the maturity of abundance.
The Authority of Grass represents the resilience of abundance."
His voice paused.
More petals filled the air, dancing gracefully in the wind.
Then he continued:
"And the Authority of Flowers…represents the rebirth of abundance."