Ascension

Nymera chuckled. "You're activating the power of your Immortal Mage Body already. Didn't expect you to use your strongest power so soon..."

A chill settled over the battlefield as Silvan prepared to respond.

Thrills moved from Silvan's lower to his upper body. He got overwhelmed with shivers, but those were tolerable. His heart beat beneath his chest, something vibrating in his head.

The air seemed to pulse around him. With his full-power awakening, he groaned.

"I had been holding back till today because I needed to get stronger. But not anymore. I have attained it! My Immortal Mage Body is enough to crush your dark Umbral Mage Body.

And with the help of my High-Elders-rank tames, I'm more than confident we're ending things today..."

Nymera's posture shifted, signaling her readiness to meet his challenge. Her body bent at a slight angle. She moved her left leg backward while her right arm remained rigid at the front.

She stretched her arms to both sides - curly and ropey dark mist rolled between her fingers. Her Mage Body was awakening with gradual intensity, too.

Her voice cut through the rising tension like a blade. She smiled.

"Well, well... it's admirable to have beasts of such rank. But it's even more pleasing to challenge someone with such tames and a third-rank mage body too.

Let's forget about loyalty here, Silvan Ferox. You're free to go wild! "

Variance between pure and dark magic.

Pure magic practitioners stay in their normality zone while cultivating. They follow the rule for magic cultivation. They do not go beyond the ascension rites to increase their mage body. But dark practitioners do otherwise.

They can do anything and go to such lengths as long as they can get stronger. They do not follow the rules of magic, leading to higher costs whenever they attempt to use magic. After thousands of years, the world now knows.

These practitioners have found a way to create a countermeasure for it. Besides, someone like the ancestor of dark magicians made magic rules. So, it perhaps feel natural for them to go against it.

It was a clash not just of strength, but of ideologies.

The order of winning a fight or challenge is different for both types of magic. For instance, a fifth-rank dark cultivator equals a third-rank cultivator in pure magic.

Their levels are different only in their field of practice. In a nutshell, a top pure magic practitioner has an almost perfect mage body.

But that doesn't mean he can easily defeat a dark magic user who is slightly above average.

A dance of magic echoed between both of them. Silvan stood rigid. Flames engulfed his body in a rapid blaze. It was a true test of his element of practice and his strength.

The environment itself reacted to their escalating powers.

A piercing sound hollered. The wind howled while gusting in unpredictable directions.

It was strong enough to lift Zmey's body and smash it against the icy ledge wall. As he plummeted back to the ground, his brows twitched.

A hurricane-like mist surrounded Nymera. Visible dark energy moved underneath her skin. Her hair billowed upwards under the pressure of her awakening.

Her face was an unsettling depiction of excitement, her body a true testament to dark magic. Mist thrilled over and over her robe. She glued her eyes to Silvan. He was very relaxed, like a gentle fire awakening.

Silvan's brows furrowed in concentration. Every cell in his body trembled. The dormant energy within him erupted like a celestial storm. A voice—his, yet not his—whispered through the chaos:

"No longer am I bound by the frailty of mortal flesh! From the ashes of my pain, I rise as the vessel of eternity, a force that bends the stars and reshapes the heavens. I am the Immortal Mage, and the cosmos must answer to me!"

The fiery display of his power lit the battlefield like a second sun.

Fiery energy burst underneath his shoes without warning. It formed a rolling circular plate around whose rim intricate symbols were. He felt his skin tightening.

His body straightened under an unseen force. Every part of him hardened. He raised his gaze to the Necrot. His whole body was an embodiment of his fire element. He held his sabre with both hands. His yellow hair billowed.

Nymera's awakening continued with equal ferocity.

Dark haze spread out as she stamped the ground, though not reaching Silvan Ferox. The hurricane mist around her dissipated.

Silvan was going all out, activating the deadliest stage of his Mage Body without warning. Even if the variance between types of magic existed, she could be at a disadvantage for staying on the low end.

She widened her palms at her side. The elements of the atmosphere swirled in her palms. They rushed and shifted with randomness. Layers upon layers. Particles upon particles, till dark, misty balls swirled in her hands.

An outward pull caused her body to push out towards the sky. Thrills overwhelmed her. The pressure bent her back like a rushing waterfall.

She shut her eyes and faced the sky. In a heartbeat, something flashed out of her back. It formed into a butterfly with dark magurs and short, tendril-like edges.

Nymera whispered, her tone tight. "In shadows, I am forged; in darkness, I ascend - let the void become my dominion and the night my eternal ally!"

The transformation painted her in an unearthly light, her dark power fully unleashed.

The dark mist dissipated off into the sky, the butterfly a guardian behind her as its tendrils glued to her back. Her skin was pale under the blue gradient of light, black veins bulging underneath.

The air thickened with anticipation.

Both of them had awakened the apex stages of their mage bodies. During the awakening of one, if the other attacks right away, it might lead to the loss of their power.

But Silvan moved first..

He moved his fiery sword in a deadly arc without warning. An arc of flame formed from the slash, slicing the air towards Nymera. She spread her palms towards it. A misty screen appeared and repelled the attack.

Silvan dashed at her, flames tracing his figure. He pursued her without hesitation. Nymera's eyes locked in on him; he blurred in the next second.

He appeared behind her. But she turned to hold down his sabre, jabbing her misty palm against his chest.

The clash of their powers sent shockwaves rippling across the battlefield.

A firm pressure vibrated in Silvan's interior. Blood sprouted from his mouth. Yet he didn't hold back as he clasped his sword. With every ounce of strength that remained in him, he pushed it against Nymera's grip.

As if responding to his struggle, the sword made its way through the Necrot's arm, slicing through palm walls. It cut across the arm next, until it reached the shoulder. The sword shredded the Necrot's arm.

A moment of stunned silence followed the decisive blow.

Her eyes widened, realization hitting her when the deed was already done. She looked at her left arm, the sharp end of the sword pointing outwards from her flesh.

"What the..."