Bermuda

As the ground shook with a resounding boom, Hugo and Leonardo lifted their heads, instantly on guard, scanning their surroundings.

Leonardo cut himself off mid-sentence and sharpened his senses. Feeling an unusual presence, Hugo summoned the wind to sweep away the swirling smoke.

As the haze cleared and their sight returned, the vast plains beyond the ridge came into view. Soon after, the ground began to tremble in uneven pulses, the vibrations drawing steadily closer.

At last, they caught sight of the source—bursting from between the foothills, kicking up clouds of dust at high speed. A pitch-black swarm, easily numbering in the thousands, was racing across the open plains, as if driven by an unseen whip, urgently headed somewhere—cutting right across their field of vision.

Hugo narrowed his eyes.

“Dermocas?”

No sooner had he spoken than Leonardo suddenly leapt toward the plains, intending to wipe the creatures out. But the moment his feet left the ground, something yanked him back, stopping his ascent. Glancing down, he saw Hugo’s arm locked firmly around his waist, keeping him from advancing.

Half-suspended for a moment before his feet touched down again under Hugo’s strength, Leonardo turned to him, startled. He scowled, prying at the arm around his waist.

“What are you doing?”

Hugo shook his head.

“You’re exhausted. Don’t get involved.”

Leonardo stared at him as if he’d heard wrong, then turned to the rushing swarm.

“Then what about them?”

Hugo tugged him a step farther back before letting go.

“I’ll handle them. You stay put.”

Leonardo blinked at him, perplexed. He knew Hugo was strong, but in his mind, his own explosive mana was far better suited for handling an enemy on this scale.

This time, Hugo took his hand in a firm grip to stop him from charging in. The pressure in that grasp made the message clear: Don’t interfere. Leonardo could only stare, half incredulous—but decided to watch and see. It might be a good chance to witness Agrizendro using a long-range strike.

“Seems the constant rain’s given us some good clouds today,” Hugo murmured, gazing skyward. Leonardo followed his eyes.

Before he could wonder what was so ‘good’ about them, Leonardo felt a surge of energy—utterly unlike the cool, steady mana he’d sensed from Hugo before.

It wasn’t calm and flowing. It was explosive, carrying a cruel chill sharp enough to freeze and tear the skin. Though its nature was wholly different from his own, the force and impact were undeniable.

Looking back at Hugo, Leonardo felt that power all the more through their joined hands. A strong wind rose, tugging at his hair—not a mere gust, but a force that seemed to stir the air over the entire area.

Overhead, the thick clouds began to move.

Is that from the airflow?

Before he could dwell on it, the currents brushing his skin shifted, heavy with intent. His lips parted without thinking.

The beat of his own pulse resonated in his chest, mingling with the deep, rolling sound carried upward through the atmosphere. Even the swarming creatures faltered as the air’s very nature changed.

Hugo extended his right hand toward the sky in the Dermocas’ direction. Leonardo watched closely.

When mages used their hands, it was often just to more easily shape and direct mana through the most agile part of the body. Agrizendro, however, had often shown he could wield mana freely without such gestures—so the act of stretching out a hand now sparked Leonardo’s curiosity.

A thunderous crack rolled from above as, in response to Hugo’s will, the clouds began to churn. Air currents pulled toward his outstretched hand, gathering into a vast, spiraling vortex.

The spread of clouds was sucked into a single point, forming a massive storm. As the pressure plummeted, winds from every direction fed into it, shaping a destructive tornado.

Leonardo could only stare, the wind of Hugo’s mana tugging at his clothes. Lowering his arm from the sky toward the plains, Hugo spoke a single incantation.

“Mega Storm.”

The words rang solemnly. The slow spiral above spun faster and faster, the air bursting with sound. At the storm’s heart, icy vapor formed into long, lethal spears of ice and plunged toward the black swarm far below.

Kwaaaang—!

When the storm struck earth, the ground shook again. Screams rose as the creatures were skewered by the relentless hail of ice. Those caught in the vortex were dragged upward, smashed against massive ice chunks, and fell like shattered meteors.

Bodies and ice slammed down, crushing those still below, turning the plains into chaos.

Kiaaaak—!

The survivors tried to scatter, but a blue magic circle spread across the sky. Jagged ice walls erupted from the ground, cutting off escape, while thick serpents of water slithered from the cracks, coiling around and tearing into their prey.

The opaque walls hid the slaughter within, but the outcome was plain—the Dermocas were dying in droves.

Acid from their ruptured bodies hissed against the ice, melting it, yet each time a wall dissolved, another rose in its place, creating a «N.o.v.e.l.i.g.h.t» fortress of slaughter in the middle of the plains.

Leonardo watched in silence.

Strong.

Agrizendro’s mana was not outwardly explosive, yet its destructive force rivaled his own. That power came from a flawless trinity—enormous reserves, versatile techniques, and precise control.

Spells were meant to shape mana, shorten casting time, and amplify scale. Leonardo rarely used them; his primitive mana was already so strong and quick to manifest that he didn’t need the boost.

But what Hugo had just done went far beyond mere efficiency. The vast storm harnessed nature itself, while the ice walls and water constructs were cast wordlessly, their strength unmistakable.

Even if I unleashed what I keep sealed, I’m not sure I’d be stronger.

Pure awe filled him.

Then the creatures, desperate to survive, began to climb—digging claws into the ice, trampling over the corpses of their own kind. Some leapt over the towering wall, breaking free.

As they ran, Leonardo glanced between their path and the swirling storm above.

At that scale...

It was the perfect chance to test something he’d only theorized. Tired as he was from the mana he’d already spent, such a moment might never come again—only here, with Hugo Agrizendro in the Elder Millie Peninsula.

So he gathered power—not through the right hand Hugo still held, but in his free left. Sparks flared, then a lance of golden lightning formed in his grip.

Sensing the surge, Hugo turned, but Leonardo hurled the lightning into the heart of the storm. It vanished into the clouds.

Hugo’s brow lifted as his gaze followed. A moment later, the storm flashed—then flashed again, brighter. Acting as a massive capacitor, the low-pressure system birthed its own thunder.

Seeing his theory succeed, Leonardo thrust his arm toward the fleeing Dermocas and spoke.

“Thunder Stroke.”

The sky flared yellow, blinding in its brilliance. Discharges crackled through the air, and a colossal bolt struck the plains.

The explosion shook the ground. A roaring gust tore toward them; Hugo stepped forward, shielding Leonardo with his body and throwing up a barrier.

Positive charges surged back skyward, drawing more lightning from the storm. Thunder boomed overhead, the air expanding with the heat, and bolts hammered down, scorching the earth.

When they struck the ice walls, the blasts grew even fiercer. Dermocas with ice embedded in their bodies tried to flee, only to be obliterated mid-stride.

The ground seethed, blackened by flame and the acid spilling from carcasses. Piles of bodies crumbled to drifting black ash.

Perhaps the storm had been an ideal medium—but the power still drained Leonardo to the core. Even so, he leaned to peer past Hugo’s barrier.

A few stragglers survived, but most lay dead, charred or electrocuted. The plains were scorched and devastated.

As he looked on with a flicker of satisfaction, a presence loomed overhead. Raising his head, he found Agrizendro staring down at him, expression full of unspoken words. Leonardo frowned, speaking first.

“Well, this hand stayed still.”

Knowing exactly what he meant, Hugo only shook his head, eyeing the right hand Leonardo still held up and waggled before his face.