Alfia finally found a sliver of breathing room.
In that vanishingly short pause, her mind flashed through her entire life.
She had always hated fate—hated everything fate had forced onto her.
From the day she was born, she carried this curse in her body. A hereditary sickness. A sentence written into her blood.
She joined a Familia hoping the gods' Blessing could erase the pain.
But the Blessing only made her stronger. It never cured her.
Worse—her curse eventually "evolved" into a skill within the Blessing itself, becoming even more deeply entrenched.
Later, Alfia wanted to become a hero. Better yet, she wanted to die on the road of heroism.
If she fell in battle, at least she wouldn't have wasted her talent—and she could finally be free from the curse's torment.
But everything turned out wrong.
She didn't die from her curse.
Instead, her Familia, her companions… and the sister she loved most all died before her.
And she—still alive—dragged her cursed body into the present.
For the sake of the future, she abandoned the heroic path she'd once walked and became one of the "Greatest Evils."
A life like that… was a joke.
Alfia drew a long breath and stared at Shadow, who hadn't pressed the attack.
Maybe he was waiting for her to do something worthy.
Maybe he was worried she'd end up like Chaldo—stuck in a state where she could no longer fight.
If it was the latter, then he was worrying for nothing.
A monster of talent never disappointed.
Alfia's eyes hardened.
Alme—activate.
The skill's name was written as "Alme," a fusion of Alfia and Meteria.
Each time she used it, the curse would burrow deeper into her, gnawing harder.
Alfia rarely used it—because she hated it.
People claimed her curse existed because the heavens and fate envied her talent.
Then what about her sister?
Why was Meteria—who had no talent—also sickly and frail?
Maybe Meteria's lack of talent was because Alfia had stolen it.
And maybe this skill was the symbol of that theft.
Alfia would never use it unless she faced an opponent worthy of respect.
"Gospel / Soul's Stillness!"
From her mouth came two different incantations—almost overlapping, almost simultaneous.
Two spells launched at Shadow in the same instant.
"You can cast two spells at once?"
Cid's eyes widened again.
Casting magic wasn't just reciting words—it was complete concentration, forcing mana into shape through will.
Casting two spells at the same time was practically like solving the hardest math problem while writing an emotionally rich essay at the same time.
That difficulty was far beyond parallel chanting.
"Meteria is with me!"
Alfia's gaze was unshakable.
Maybe… she shouldn't have hated this skill so much.
Because in this moment, she could feel it—
She wasn't fighting alone.
But even that wasn't enough.
Alfia invoked another skill.
The symbol of her cursed first half of life.
Once she activated it, her magic entered a state of "unsealed limits."
So long as she could endure, she could cast spells with power that had no upper bound.
On paper it sounded absurdly strong—proof that Alfia stood among the strongest humans in history.
But it had already been said:
That skill was the curse made manifest.
When she used it, she would accumulate layered abnormal conditions mid-combat—poison, paralysis, shock, and worse.
If the fight dragged on, her parameters could even drop semi-permanently.
She had finally obtained medicine that could suppress the curse.
She had finally tasted the feeling of a normal breath.
She had finally escaped the collar that had strangled her for half a lifetime.
So why would she activate it now?
Using that skill against an opponent like this would turn her recovering body back into ruins.
Wasn't that suffering the one thing she wanted to escape, even in her dreams?
A bitter laugh rose in her chest.
Dreams were a luxury.
She hurt too much to sleep.
Next time, would she ever receive a gift like his again—medicine so rare?
Probably not.
Something this precious… she suspected there was only one bottle in existence.
And still, she chose to use it.
Because the reason was simple.
Even now—right in front of her—
Shadow was still unscathed.
Even after she activated Alme, even after she fired two terrifying spells together, she still hadn't landed a single clean hit.
They had pushed each other this far…
And her opponent still hadn't used his full strength.
So for this man, she would stake everything.
Talent-Curse Recompense—activate.
Alfia forced her power to the limit.
And this time, her mana perception finally "saw" Shadow's movement.
What she saw made her—who had already prepared herself—freeze in disbelief.
He was moving at extreme speed… yet his motion looked leisurely.
At that speed, his posture and footwork—
He looked like he was walking.
All those actions… that velocity too fast for perception…
For him, it was just walking.
"You've changed," Cid remarked, still with room to spare, slipping through Alfia's machine-gun barrage of magic.
To an ordinary person, it would feel like playing a bullet-hell game.
Look once and you explode.
Look twice and you melt.
Survival wouldn't even seem like an option.
For him… it really did feel like a stroll.
"I won't disappoint you… Gospel!"
While firing off rapid short incantations, Alfia also began a second chant—long, heavy, and relentless.
"Blessing's seed of calamity, curse-born resentment."
"Gospel."
"Devouring my half-body, my original sin—"
"Gospel."
"Unable to cleanse, unable to purify, unable to redeem."
"Gospel."
Cid had never seen anything like it.
He had always hated long-form chants. The wind-up was too long; no matter how powerful the spell, it was hard to land without support.
You needed allies to cover you. It didn't suit Shadow.
The only real advantage was that a long chant felt good to recite.
That was why, when acting as a background extra and casting magic, Cid would tack on a long, unnecessary "chant" just for style.
It was a kind of joy he didn't indulge in as Shadow.
You couldn't have everything—Cid had gradually accepted that.
"I didn't expect you could even do this."
Cid kept dodging, astonished.
He didn't try to close the distance.
He could have avoided every sonic strike and cut her down.
But there was no need.
He wanted to see what kind of heaven-shaking spell would come out of this.
He didn't know this was the magic Alfia used to kill Leviathan—the spell that made her a true hero.
And with the medicine he had given her, Alfia's current state was even stronger than when she fought Leviathan.
If she failed to control her output…
This one strike could erase Orario.
Alfia raised her slender arm.
High above, something silver-gray manifested—something that wasn't a magic circle.
By its outline, it was a colossal bell.
"—Lament, Holy Bell Tower!"
A sacred bell tower overflowing with annihilating power descended into reality.
Even combatants locked in mortal struggle—both righteous and wicked—couldn't help but lose focus.
If that bell tower fell as-is…
Could anyone survive?
"Alfia… you finally used it."
Chaldo forced Ottar back with a full-power blow and looked toward the distance, a trace of melancholy crossing his face.
Was it concern for a comrade? Envy? Or… relief?
For Alfia to fight with everything she had—this might be the first time.
She was probably enjoying herself, in her own way.
"Boar-boy! You better entertain me too!"
Chaldo unleashed everything.
He didn't want to drag it out anymore.
Once he beat Ottar, he would go to Shadow next.
Even those watching from afar could see the bell tower's overwhelming presence and feel their knees weaken in instinctive submission.
Shadow—standing directly beneath it—bore more than ninety percent of the pressure.
Behind the mask…
Maybe he was smiling.
"Then I'll use my full strength too."
Cid said it, then seemed to realize something and shook his head.
After that, he raised one arm as well.
Streams of mana gathered along his blade—this was unmistakably the strongest magic he could unleash.
"I am Atomic!"
....
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