If there's a problem, then the cause must be found.
What's started today, must end today.
To better understand what was going wrong, Ethan Hayes took out the two four-leaf grimoire books he had obtained .
One of wind, the other of fire.
These had once been his only two attributes.
But watching Ethan's actions, Yuno and the others were stunned.
It was only now they realized—when Ethan used Light Magic, he didn't even rely on a grimoire.
A grimoire isn't just for show, floating beside its user to look cool.
Certain forbidden spells and exclusive magic can only be activated through the grimoire.
Not to mention, grimoires can amplify the power of magic.
Yet without using one, this guy could still unleash such overwhelming might—what kind of monster was he?
And then…
Yuno's eyes narrowed at the two floating four-leaf grimoires beside Ethan. "Wind and Fire attributes... Could he really be Ethan Hayes?"
Though the man had introduced himself as such upon arrival, Yuno hadn't believed it at first.
After all, Ethan Hayes had disintegrated into ashes right before their eyes.
And while this new figure bore some resemblance to the original, the differences were vast—too great to ignore.
Until the four-leaf grimoires appeared.
People can lie, but grimoires do not.
Where there is life, there is a grimoire. When one dies, so does the grimoire.
If Ethan Hayes had truly perished, these grimoires would've vanished with him—they would never fall into the hands of another.
[Wind Creation Magic – Gale Javelin!]
[Fire Creation Magic – Flame Javelin!]
Whether they'd strike Patolli or not didn't matter.
As soon as the spells took form, Ethan hurled them downward into the sandstorm-shrouded battlefield.
The difference was clear.
Among similar types of magic, these two javelins felt more refined and potent than his earlier spell of Light Judgment.
Even their speed surpassed the common belief that wind is slower than light—by a hair's breadth, they were faster.
"So it really is thanks to the grimoire...?"
Now that he'd identified the issue, Ethan could only let out a bitter laugh.
Grimoires aren't something you can just buy.
One person, one book, for life. That's the law of the world.
Each individual has only one opportunity in life to obtain their grimoire from the Tower.
Miss that chance, and even if you drag the entire tower into your home, not a single grimoire would acknowledge you.
Calling them books is misleading—they're more like physical manifestations of a mystical law.
Only under specific, unique conditions do these laws grant a book the right to become a grimoire.
Otherwise, people would just swap them out whenever they felt dissatisfied—and the world would descend into chaos.
"Well, something's better than nothing. Compared to having just two elements, at least now I have more flexibility in combat. As for power... I'll think of a solution later."
Setting aside those thoughts, Ethan focused all his attention on the battle at hand.
To friends and those who protect you, you repay them in full.
But to those who hurt you, and those who harm your friends—there's only one response: Fight!
"Spirit Magic – Spirit Descent!"
As he shed his mortal limitations, Ethan's power surged alongside the spirit's amplified force.
A tempest roared through the battlefield.
Ethan stood in its heart.
Glowing green light rained down, laced with golden motes of energy.
His half-formed crown turned into a golden hair clasp, tying back his long, fluttering black hair, leaving only a few bangs dancing across his forehead.
The wings of light behind him vanished, replaced by a divine halo.
The spirit bracelet on his right hand transformed into a radiant green Spirit Bow.
Wreathed in divine winds, he now resembled a god of the wind, master of all aerial arts.
Whirr!
Whirr!
As he pulled the bowstring taut, elemental energy converged around him. Five long arrows formed as the bow reached full draw.
Each arrow radiated with power equal to—or even beyond—Spirit Magic itself.
Thwish!
Thwish!...
The arrows shot forward. Ethan didn't bother to aim.
There was no need.
His power had elevated not only his strength but every aspect of his control over magic.
These arrows didn't strike randomly—they had one target only: Patolli.
"What the hell? Are these things... tracking me?"
Dodging wildly, Patolli glanced behind him and saw the five wind arrows chasing relentlessly. His confusion deepened.
It wasn't that spells couldn't change trajectory after casting.
But doing so required intense concentration and direct control by the caster.
Yet he could tell—these arrows weren't being manually controlled.
"You can run for a moment... but can you run forever?"
Ethan's voice echoed once more.
With Spirit Assimilation, his speed now rivaled Patolli's Light Magic.
Working in perfect harmony with the five arrows, Ethan launched a relentless pursuit.
BOOM!
BOOM!
The entire cave quaked from the battle. In midair, the two combatants had become blurs, invisible to the naked eye.
"Go, Ethan! Beat him to a pulp!" Noelle shouted at the top of her lungs.
All they could see were flashes of light and magic colliding.
Like gods clashing in the heavens—it was jaw-dropping.
She hated Patolli. Despised him.
But thankfully, Ethan wasn't dead. She didn't know how he was alive, but it was clear now—he was holding his own against Patolli.
"You can't escape. At equal speeds, you'll never beat me!"
Ethan's voice was confident. With blinding speed, he closed in on Patolli.
And then—at that moment—his speed surged tenfold again!
"What...?! Lightning Magic!"
Patolli gasped as Ethan reappeared before him, now wreathed in crackling blue lightning.
Wind and lightning, combined.
At this moment, Ethan had completely outpaced him.
"Spirit Creation Magic – Spirit Blade!"
The spirit bow shifted into a glowing green longsword in Ethan's hand.
In the blink of an eye, he slashed downward at Patolli.
Though Patolli narrowly avoided a fatal blow, the blade still tore into his chest, splitting flesh and drawing blood.
But Ethan wasn't disappointed.
Because the five wind arrows that had been trailing him? They now caught up.
The distance vanished in a heartbeat.
Not even a second—half a second was enough.
Enough to pierce straight through Patolli.
Let him experience what it means to be
chilled to the bone.
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