The sky of Thirtos has not truly recovered. Although time has returned to its fullness, and the spiral has woven together the broken existence, something on the horizon of the sea continues to pulse—dark, heavy, and approaching. Abyssal fog envelops the eastern waters, and from within it, the sound of a thud like the footsteps of ancient creatures echoes across the land. That sound, akin to the distant rumble of a storm, shakes the very core of Fitran's soul, sending chills down his spine. In this tense atmosphere, the wind blows with a force that tears at the leaves, creating a sense that nature itself is preparing to strike.

  Tiamat does not retreat.

  She merely waits, her eyes shining sharply, filled with ambition and a terrifying calm.

  And now, she sends forth four New Manifestations—shadows of herself split from the aspects of the world: Lava, Lightning, Ice, and Wind. The four entities move in unison, taking the form of dragon-like giants with imperfect bodies, yet their magical power is enough to burn the city once more. The wind swirls around them, carrying the scent of sulfur and the sound of thunder. They approach, revealing themselves through the fog, like the wrath of the heavens given flesh, their bodies adorned with fiery patterns and shimmering light filling the air with a tension that can be felt in every bone.

  In the center of the altar, Fitran stands atop the roots of Genesis, gazing at the swirling fog with a body full of wounds. He feels the pain coursing through him, but his spirit will not be extinguished; his lips are pressed tightly together, as if holding back all doubt. He has rested enough, sufficiently healed by the embrace of Joanna and the voice of Rinoa. But now, he stands not as a father, nor as Seraphine's student, but as the last spear of the world. His chest trembles, heavy with unspoken burdens, while his eyes shine with determination, challenging the trials to come.

  Rinoa turns to him, a furrow on her brow indicating the tension in her mind. “You cannot face four entities at once,” she says, her voice trembling, filled with concern, her eyes searching Fitran's for reassurance.

  Fitran raises the Voidlight—his sword igniting with a black-purple light embraced by emerald spirals. The glow dances, casting a terrifying shadow around him, as if he were separated from reality. “I will not fight with ordinary magic…” he replies, his voice filled with strength, even though his fingers tremble, reflecting the tension creeping within him.

  He takes a deep breath, feeling the air charged with electricity, then raises his left hand to the sky and his right hand to the ground. The roots of Genesis respond with a tremor, as if sensing the wave of power gathering. The sky rumbles, lightning strikes in the distance, creating a flickering light that seems to divide time between courage and fear. In that moment, the earth murmurs, the voice of nature adding to the panic hanging in the air.

  “Spira Ignis et Fulmen,” Fitran whispers, his voice nearly drowned out by the thunderous roar above him. The overcast weather presses down on the sky, fierce winds blow carrying the scent of hot steam, creating a tense atmosphere. In the language of the first world, it means: “Spiral of Fire and Lightning, Arise.” He feels his heart pounding strongly, tension enveloping his body as magic gathers at his fingertips, coloring the air with boiling and vibrating energy.

  Dual Element Magic:

  Infernal Nova: Wrath of Flamebolt

  From the Voidlight, magic explodes in two directions with a blast that shakes the ground beneath: the left side ignites in golden red, shimmering like the light of a sunset, while the right side glows electric blue, shining in a dangerous dance. Both swirl, forming the Flamebolt Spiral, a vortex of combined fire and lightning energy dancing wildly, creating a mesmerizing display.

  From the sky, lightning strikes with a sound that makes the heart tremble, releasing a white glow as if painting the sky with a warning sign. From the ground, lava emerges in a spiral pattern, flowing gently like hot blood from a wound, radiating bright red light that seems to draw closer. Both merge into Fitran's body, enveloping his entire being with a surge of energy that ignites his fighting spirit. His cloak billows wildly like a flag in battle, showcasing the burning courage within his heart. A hot and static aura, like lightning striking the ground, fills the altar, creating a thick, oppressive atmosphere. In Fitran's eyes, there is no longer doubt—only courage and determination illuminating his face, making him appear stronger than ever.

  The four Manifestations of Tiamat greet him with a simultaneous roar, their voices echoing throughout the valley, shaking once more. Fitran can feel that vibration in his soul, as if the entire world is holding its breath, waiting for what will happen next.

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  The Lava Manifestation charges first, its body like a walking mountain, its blood magma boiling. Hot clouds vibrate around the creature, creating a faint illusion in the air. Fitran darts forward—faster than lightning, hotter than embers. In his eyes, a sharp glint reveals his burning resolve. He swings the Voidlight, now shining in two colors: bright yellow and blazing red, as if merging with the energy of the universe.

  “Ignis Severance!”

  The slash cleaves the chest of the Lava Manifestation with a hissing sound, an explosion of fire spreading to the mountains, turning rocks into liquid as if they were giving way. However, the creature's body quickly reassembles, clouds of smoke enveloping the battlefield, creating thick fog seeping from the cracks of its body.

  Lightning strikes from the dark sky—the Lightning Manifestation attempts to incapacitate Fitran from a distance, the sound of thunder clashing against silence. Yet, he merely steps onto the burning ground, affirming his presence, and shouts: “Fulmen Reversal!” The lightning magic is redirected, striking the Lightning Manifestation itself with a striking blue flash. The explosion shakes the sky, making the dark clouds tremble, as if nature itself is astonished by this merciless power.

  Combined Mode:

  “Stormbreaker Spiral!” A circular slash cuts in four directions, creating a swirling storm of heat and electricity that sparkles, energy orbs spinning as if trying to reach the low-hanging sky. The abyssal creatures attempting to approach are instantly burned or explode into ashes, black trails wafting in the air. Each slash from Fitran is now not just an attack, but a rhythm of existential punishment marking their end, with his expression seeming to challenge the fate he wishes to change. The tension in the air escalates, as if all creation and elements conspire in this battle.

  Do you think you can destroy this world just because you are older than the laws?

  I do not fight to win. I fight to delay destruction—long enough for the world to have a chance to dream again.

  Seeing the four Manifestations pushed back, Tiamat herself roars from the sea, her thunderous voice shaking the heart. The fog recedes, revealing her giant face filled with rage, as if the sky itself is affected by her fury. From her middle mouth, she prepares an abyssal energy attack, dark and terrifying, launching it directly at the heart of Thirtos.

  Rinoa, her face pale, screams. “Fitran! That’s the breath of annihilation!” Her voice sounds like a friend’s cry, knowing their time is running out.

  Joanna, breathless yet still weak, stretches out her hands in a gesture full of hope. Spirals of energy begin to swirl around her, emerald and blue, forming a shield. But tension envelops the atmosphere; they know: time is too short.

  Fitran whispers to the Voidlight, his eyes shining with determination and a burning fighting spirit:

  “Take me into the storm…”

  He runs, the burning heat on his skin merging with the raging fire around him. Without hesitation, he leaps into the sky, his body entwined by spirals of fire and lightning, like a dragon flying amidst the storm. One hand grips the Voidlight tightly, while the other opens wide, absorbing both lightning and lava, feeling the vibration of energy flowing through his bones.

  And as Tiamat unleashes her breath of destruction, her roar makes the ground tremble and the trees shake as if sensing the impending threat…

  …Fitran slashes directly into the heart of that light, shouting with a voice full of spirit and courage, as if ignoring all the fear enveloping him:

  “Dual Spiral Cataclysm!”

  The sky shatters. The clouds vanish. Waves of energy sweep across the shore, shaking the sand until it scatters like diamond dust. The thunderous roar resonates, as if nature responds to the overflowing power. Fire and lightning entwine, forming a sparkling spiral pattern in the air, holding back Tiamat's explosion and hurling it back into the sea with a deafening crash.

  All who witness can only see the blinding white light and feel a profound silence, as if time has stopped. Expressions of awe and fear adorn the faces of the onlookers, their eyes wide, trying to absorb every detail of this magnificent display. No one dares to move, entranced by the beauty and grandeur of the act.

  As the dust settles, Fitran falls from the sky, his figure appearing to sink into the magical light surrounding him. Rinoa, with shining attentive eyes, catches him with the magic of sound, feeling the emotional vibration created between them. His body burns, his cloak torn, yet his spirit remains ablaze. The Voidlight reassembles into a single blade, vibrating with the rhythm of life, as if thanking him for taking him beyond the limits of ordinary magic that is merely transcendental.

  Joanna, standing beside him, smiles weakly. Her face reflects a mix of relief and admiration. “You… danced with the storm,” she says in a softened voice, as if afraid to disturb the beauty of the moment. Her gaze is focused on Fitran, her eyes shining with gratitude and awe, as if she has witnessed an unforgettable miracle.

  Fitran, panting, replies in a hoarse voice, “The world is too beautiful… to be left to fade away.” There is tension in his voice, but behind it lies a fiery hope. He lifts his head confidently, as if challenging the still-cloudy sky with remnants of energy radiating.

  And from the cliffs, Iris gazes at the spiral light slowly settling back into the sky, her heart racing as she hears the roar of the wind tousling her hair. She feels someone urging her to come closer, her gaze fixed on Fitran, so much so that she almost fails to notice the changes around her. Darkness gives way to light as the glow crawls further from the horizon, piercing the boundaries of the sky.

  “Her name is not a hero. But she is… the will that chooses to remain.”