Driven by sheer will, Hope—who had only just awakened his Magnetic Field Power—erupted with a force of fifty thousand horsepower.
He shaped his hand into a sword and, with a single tyrannical strike of Sword of Hell, unleashed the full ten-tenths of his might at point-blank range.
No dazzling special effects—just raw, overwhelming force that tore Bluenote's gravity defense apart like flimsy cloth, the razor-sharp sword-qi driving straight for his heart.
Everything happened too fast.
Bluenote had no time to weave another defensive spell.
"Aaaargh—!"
At death's door, veins bulged across Bluenote's forehead as he detonated every last scrap of mana in one mad burst, forcibly forging a cushion of pure magic.
That split-second resolve alone proved him worthy of the title Master Mage.
A Ten Wizard Saints–level eruption was no trifle; it knocked Hope's full-powered strike just a hair off course.
Bluenote watched the arm spear through his left abdomen, an organ inside rupturing instantly, the agony twisting his face.
My kidneys—!
But there was no time for screams.
The brutal energy punched clean through; he coughed a mouthful of blood laced with organ shards and flew like a snapped kite, slamming into the distant magic crystal wall.
Erza hadn't even seen what happened—Hope simply surged and Bluenote was flung aside, broken and bleeding.
Yet the sight made Makarov and Jellal blanch, horror flashing in their eyes.
Bluenote had never imagined a mana-depleted Hope could still wield such terror; Jellal hadn't either.
Even expecting it, Makarov was shaken.
One blow, one exchange—and the mighty wielder of 'gravity' magic nearly died in a heartbeat.
What in the world was that power called Magnetic Field Rotation?!
Devoid of mana, yet more savage and domineering than any spell they knew!
"Monster…"
Bluenote hissed the word through clenched teeth.
His face paper-white, left abdomen cored out, kidney pulverized and other organs damaged, every breath tasted of iron.
He sealed the wound with magic; a collector of potent spells, he'd once dabbled in healing on his guild master's advice.
Back then he'd sneered—what use to a powerhouse? Now it kept him alive.
But the next instant his expression cracked: the brutal residue within the wound was blocking his healing, slashing its effect.
"Damn… what power is this…"
Hope flicked blood from his fingers, blue-white lightning crackling around him, eyeing Bluenote with open mockery—as though watching a clown perform.
The Magnetic Field world boasts several famed ultimate arts.
The legendary Sea Tiger Demolition Fist.
The number-crunching Whale Slaying Overlord Fist.
The marathon-lasting Celestial Martial Slaughter Path.
The colossal-health Asura Path.
And the recovery-throttling Hell Path.
With his Magnetic Field Power unlocked, Hope's practiced Hell Path regained its true effect.
And as his strength grew, Hell Path would birth 'death-force'; flesh ruined by it could not be restored even by a 990-thousand-horsepower titan.
Ignoring the downed Bluenote, Hope turned, eyes icy on Jellal. "That's the 'non-magic' power you scorned. How's it feel? Still think it can't match you?"
The scornful taunt darkened Jellal's face.
Despite the information gap, the man who'd crippled Bluenote now clearly wielded Ten Wizard Saints–level might.
Yet pride forbade retreat—he still had his trump card.
"Hmph! Nothing but a heretical trick!"
"Witness the ultimate power of 'Celestial' magic!"
Jellal crossed his arms above his head; vast mana surged skyward. Winds reversed, light inverted, a colossal black hole condensing above him.
It swelled at terrifying speed, the shattered upper floors yanked to splinters.
Rubble, falling light—tangible or not—everything bent toward the black hole's pull.
"Vanish into endless darkness!"
"Celestial · Dark Paradise!"
Facing the apocalyptic onslaught, Hope merely lifted his head; a real black hole and he'd already be fleeing.
But Jellal's Dark Paradise was only spell-work, merely black-hole-like.
Far from a genuine singularity, yet still near-forbidden in might.
Hope slipped into manic glee, lips curling in a savage grin. "Think that'll beat me, Jellal? You're nowhere near ready!"
"Magnetic Field Rotation! Fifty thousand horsepower!"
"Hell Path · Hell Disintegration!"
Energy erupted from his palms; Hell Disintegration lived up to its name, able to break down any energy or matter.
He thrust both hands forward; the dancing blue-white arcs turned blood-red. Magnetic force fused with killing intent into countless scarlet blades, a reversed waterfall of crimson storming skyward.
Boom! Boom! Boom! Boom—!!!
Dark spell-light and blood-red magnetism painted the heavens like a inferno.
The strike that could erase an S-Class Mage was shredded, then annihilated by the crimson tempest.
The blast-wave smashed the upper tower to rubble; Erza and Makarov had to brace themselves midair.
Hope tore through the smoke, re-entering Jellal's sight. "Seems your magic crumbles before my 'heretical trick'."
"Impossible! My Celestial magic—" Jellal couldn't accept his strongest spell undone so easily.
He still held one last ace.
His face twisting, Jellal unleashed all remaining mana; runic arrays blossomed across the tower, pulsing with ominous light.
"If defeat is certain… then come to hell with me!"
"Self-Destruction Rite — Activate!"
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