The air cracked.
Not thunder.
Not sound.
But reality itself.
High above the flaming ruins, the clouds had torn open into a battlefield only the strongest dared enter. The Council hovered mid-air like war-gods—robes trailing behind them, each surrounded by rings of layered spells, armoured in runes, chanting with voices that didn't echo… they commanded the silence itself.
And in front of them stood Velyour.
Hair whipping in the chaos. Eyes white like a dead star. No armor. No weapon. Just a presence that twisted the air around him like a curse.
He lifted one hand.
The Council moved first.
ROUND ONE – The Opening Strike
Council Elder Caien threw down a seal.
A mountain of crystal erupted from the air—floating, glowing.
"Fall."
The mountain plummeted toward Velyour.
Velyour didn't move.
He raised a finger and whispered something backwards.
The mountain froze mid-air, shattered into glass, and reformed behind him into a serpent. He sent it flying back toward the Council—now glowing with blood-red veins.
Elder Miren stepped forward. She sang.
Not a song of beauty. But a Spell Hymn—an ancient chant only sung when countries are about to be wiped off maps.
Each word twisted space. The serpent shattered again, but its ashes ignited into fire that screamed.
Velyour laughed. "Cute."
He raised his arms and the sky turned black.
ROUND TWO – The Fall of Light
It began to rain again.
But this time, not blood, not fire—
Feathers.
Each one glowed blue and gold. But as they touched the ground, they exploded into beams of raw energy, blasting holes into both earth and sky.
The Council activated their second layer. Gold rings expanded behind them like halos.
A dome of pure law formed.
It was called the Mirage Seal—the highest spell of regulation.
"Velyour," the Council Head, Ithor, said, "This world rejected you. Leave it."
Velyour raised his hands again. Magic spiraled around him in pure chaos. He smiled like a man who knew death and considered it an old friend.
Then he vanished.
For a second.
Then reappeared inside the Mirage Seal.
"Too slow."
He punched the air.
The entire seal cracked.
ROUND THREE – Magic vs. Madness
A duel of incantations.
Each Council member cast simultaneous spells—summoning meteors, time-reversing shields, spectral beasts, waves of runes.
Velyour fought them bare-handed.
He caught a meteor, crushed it into dust.
He walked through a time-freeze spell like it was fog.
He clapped—and the beasts vanished.
Then he used his own spell.
Not from this world.
The spell formed as black musical notes around him.
One floated toward the Council. Just one.
When it touched the dome—
BOOM.
A shockwave ripped across the sky.
Not sound. Not pressure.
Emotion.
Anger. Regret. Loss. Pain.
It was an emotion-based magic—targeting the soul.
Elder Caien staggered.
"I—I saw my brother," he muttered.
Ithor shouted, "Hold your minds! He's using memory magic!"
But two Council members were already down.
Falling.
Velyour floated higher. "You tried to tame me once. You made me a weapon. But now I'm the war itself."
He formed a massive spear of light and shadow. The clouds swirled into a vortex behind him.
The Council fired their last resort.
An ultimate combined spell:
Tetragrammaton Pulse—a beam of compressed magic, history, and law.
It struck the spear.
The sky turned white.
Then—
Silence.
The clouds had vanished.
The spear was gone.
So was Velyour.
For a heartbeat.
Then he exploded back into view—body scorched, hair half-burnt, bleeding from the chest—but grinning.
"That's the fun part about being dead already," he coughed. "You don't have to survive."
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