CHAPTER 46: THE BATTLE OF INVICTUS (10)

"Stay on the ground. Your turn will come last."

Grégoire saw the other two as nothing more than insignificant. His true target: that witch. Her companions? Nothing. They would be granted the mercy of dying last.

He wanted to eliminate Iris first.

But then came the sound of a sword dragging on the floor.

Sirius, his face twisted in pain yet full of determination, struggled to his feet and declared boldly:

"Iris, Lucy, let me handle him. My honor’s on the line, even if it means dying in the fight."

"If you say so."

"You got this, buddy."

The two girls replied, calmly sitting down on the bridge like they were watching a show.

"Honor? And here I thought your kind couldn’t even grasp such a thing! But I can’t let a traitor to his own species live!" shouted Grégoire. Yet something tugged at his warrior pride. Turning away from a duel, especially when the challenger was willing to die for it?

He had a mission to complete... He resumed walking toward Iris—but then stopped.

Turning around, he faced Sirius again.

"Still... I’ll grant you a death worthy of a warrior. Come! I, Grégoire, accept your challenge."

"My name is Sirius. En garde!"

...

Iris smiled as Grégoire spoke.

("A man’s pride is so easy to manipulate...") she thought, glancing toward Lucy, who nodded in return. Then Iris gently placed her hand on the concrete.

...

Sirius took a deep breath. He stood tall, sword before him.

He was about to fight for honor, facing someone far stronger than him. It stirred something deep inside—a warrior’s spirit... if he even had one.

("Cold and sharp, like a blade... cold and sharp like a blade...")

He kept repeating those words to steady his focus.

His heartbeat calmed, his senses sharpened—he could hear the water flowing beneath the bridge, his vision adjusting to the dim light.

But then a crackle of lightning snapped him back to reality.

Grégoire was moving.

Nephele Sense

Sirius’s blade dissolved into a white mist that enveloped him. Anything that entered it would trigger his senses.

It didn’t take long.

He threw himself to the ground, barely dodging a brutal strike. The next instant, he had to roll aside to avoid a kick.

Then, cornered on the ground, unable to evade

Stéreos

The mist solidified into several white layers, forming a barrier between him and Grégoire.

...

Five minutes passed like this.

Thanks to Nephele, Sirius dodged Grégoire’s lightning-fast attacks by a hair’s breadth, and used Stéreos to blunt others.

But in the end, he was a mess of injuries broken bones, short breath yet he remained standing.

Only his will kept him going.

And yet, he was disappointed.

He hadn’t landed a single hit.

Grégoire’s lightning armor was an impenetrable shield.

("Unless he deactivates it, there’s no way...")

With his last ounce of strength, Sirius grinned at his opponent, mocking him:

"I may have lost, but you made a mistake. I’ve never been a warrior who fights for honor. At the end of the day, I’m just a killer. No— we are. And damn good ones."

Grégoire’s eyes widened at those words, but didn’t dwell on them.

He took them for the ramblings of a dying man.

Outwardly, he remained composed.

But deep down, he was stunned.

This boy had awakened recently—yet he had survived his attacks.

The fact that he was still standing was absurd.

His heart sank. What a waste...

A talent like this, a traitor to the Empire... and he had to be the one to kill him.

"I’ll remember your name, even after your death."

He prepared to finish it in one blow.

Out of respect, he would use his most powerful technique.

The lightning armor vanished.

He stretched his right arm back, gathering all his lightning into a single point.

Thunder Spear

...

Sirius never saw the lance coming. It was too fast.

But he didn’t need to see it.

He never planned to dodge.

And even if he had tried, there was no way.

("It’s all yours, girls.")

What happened next was so fast, no one had time to react let alone speak.

...

Grégoire planted his foot firmly, ready to unleash the strike.

But just as he locked onto his target the bridge beneath him vanished, as if by magic.

He lost his footing.

The lightning lance missed Sirius by a hair.

Gate Closure

Lucy had used her resonance, pretending to be a mere spectator, to send part of the bridge into her pocket dimension.

Grégoire nearly fell into the abyss, barely catching himself with one hand.

But Lucy wasn’t done.

Gate Open

A bazooka appeared. She hoisted it onto her shoulder and fired a projectile

which immediately vanished into her dimension

Gate Open

only to reappear behind Grégoire, catching him completely off guard.

With his lightning shield disabled, the shot hit him full force, slamming him back onto the bridge.

Off balance, blood pouring down his back, breath knocked out of him...

Grégoire saw the very source of his rage standing before him, ready to finish it.

...

Iris had waited for this moment.

She set her violin aside.

And drew her bow sharp as a blade.

But just as she moved to slit his throat, Grégoire, with all his remaining will, reignited his lightning armor.

Iris didn’t flinch.

She had anticipated this.

Her bright eyes settled on him, calm and glowing.

Then she said one word. Just one.

In a soft tone, with a tender expression:

"Daddy."

...

A shockwave pulsed through Grégoire’s heart.

His fury died for a moment, replaced by an unfamiliar feeling

The joy of having a family.

For one fleeting instant, he was so happy, he forgot the danger.

He deactivated his lightning and stretched his arms out toward his adoptive daughter.

Of course, the emotion didn’t last.

Grégoire came back to his senses

Only to feel his heart pierced from behind by a white blade.

Sirius held the hilt.

...

Iris watched Grégoire’s stunned expression, as if he wanted to speak.

She placed a hand gently on his cheek and whispered:

"May your soul rest in peace."

Grégoire blinked

Then exhaled for the last time.

Peacefully.

...

The battle was over.

The three collapsed in exhaustion.

They had spent nearly all their ether to bring him down.

Iris was the most drained of all.

She had kept her resonance active ever since Grégoire arrived, subtly nudging his emotions never forcing, only guiding.

Lucy had exerted immense effort moving that much concrete into her dimension.

And Sirius had been on the frontlines, drawing all the attention.

They hadn’t needed to say a word.

Their flawless coordination was born of mutual trust.

"That was too close. Intermediates really aren’t on our level anymore," Iris said.

"Damn right," Lucy replied.

"Let’s rest before we move on," Sirius concluded, glancing under the bridge.

They still had to descend all the way to reach the star.

"Oh no..." Lucy groaned, spotting the endless stairs awaiting them.