The sonic drill tore through the air, emitting a shriek that could shatter souls, and shot straight at Ace.
He had once used this move to pierce through a small mountain, turning all the creatures inside into pulp!
But Ace's expression still didn't change.
He simply turned his head and looked at Vidaldus.
Deep within his eyes, the Digital Soul slowly spun.
"A sonic attack? Interesting."
He raised his right hand toward Vidaldus and clenched his five fingers into a fist!
"But to play with 'vibrations' in front of me..."
"You're not worthy."
BZZZZ—!!!
A deeper, vaster, and more fundamental "vibration" erupted from Ace's body.
It wasn't a soundwave, nor it was magical fluctuation, but a "data fluctuation" on the data level, touching the underlying rules of the world.
It was the essence of the Digital Soul—absolute control over "data".
The two vibrations collided in mid-air.
And then, Vidaldus's sonic kill was "overwritten."
It was like covering a child's cry with a symphony, or a stream with the ocean.
Wherever Ace's data fluctuation passed, Vidaldus's soundwaves were forcibly analyzed, reconstructed, and assimilated, turning back to assault his own magic container.
"Pfft—!"
Vidaldus spat out a mouthful of blood, and the guitar in his hands cracked in two with a snap.
His eyes were filled with incredulous terror—his ultimate sonic art had been crushed by a higher-level "vibration"!
"Im-impossible... This Requiem is the pinnacle of sound... How could it be..."
"Pinnacle?" Ace laughed. "In my eyes, your soundwaves, your magic, your life fluctuations, all have a 'form.' And what I can see, I can control."
He took a step forward.
A wave of dark purple aura surged forth like a monstrous tide, carrying with it an unparalleled pressure and destructive force.
This powerful and terrifying dark magic spread out at an astonishing speed.
Wherever it passed, space itself seemed to be torn apart, letting out piercing shrieks.
In the blink of an eye, the already dim area was completely submerged in this dark purple light, forming a massive black vortex.
And Vidaldus, caught within it, was like a trapped prey, bound tightly by this mysterious and unfathomable power with no ability to resist.
"No—!"
Vidaldus tried to flee, but the magic within the domain had already begun to act on him.
He felt his magic rapidly dissipating, his life force draining away, and even his "existence" itself was starting to grow thin.
What terrified him even more was seeing the dark purple magic in Ace's right palm begin to transform into a profound blackness—a color darker than darkness itself, as if it could devour all light, all sound, all existence.
"Retreat! I need to retreat now—!"
Vidaldus could no longer care about his pride or the mission.
He frantically channeled his remaining magic, his body turning into a streak of purple light as he fled down the stairs.
His speed was at its absolute limit.
He had even abandoned his guitar, clearly using a life-saving secret technique.
Fukuro also broke free from Gluttony's suction—not by his own power, but because Ace had voluntarily released the lock.
Fukuro had reverted to his human form, the rocket launchers on his back completely disintegrated.
He was covered in blood.
Seeing Vidaldus flee, he didn't hesitate to turn and run, scrambling down the stairs on all fours, as pathetic as a stray dog.
Ace didn't pursue them.
He just stood there, watching the two escape as a mocking smile pass his lips.
"Villains have no courage. They sure run fast."
He turned and looked up the stairs.
There, another battle was just reaching its climax.
This was originally a training ground for the guards, thirty meters long and wide, paved with hard bluestone slabs.
Racks holding various weapons lined the walls.
At this moment, in the center of the field, two figures were crossing, clashing, and separating at a dizzying speed.
CLANG—!!!
The tachi and Erza's longsword clashed violently once more!
The two separated on contact, each sliding back five meters, plowing deep grooves into the bluestone floor.
Ikaruga stood with her sword, her eyes under the mask slightly narrowed.
The web of her right hand, which held the sword, was slightly numb.
This was a rare sensation for her.
Since mastering her swordsmanship, she could count on one hand the number of opponents who made her feel "evenly matched" in strength.
And this woman before her, Erza Scarlet, the "Titania" of Fairy Tail, was actually fighting her to a standstill in a pure duel of swordsmanship.
No, it wasn't just a standstill.
Ikaruga could feel something in Erza's sword style that she had never seen before.
It wasn't technique, not strength, not speed, but something deeper, a "conviction" originating from the soul.
Every swing carried an unquestionable determination to protect something important.
"As expected of the Titania of Fairy Tail." Ikaruga spoke, her voice still calm, but with a hint of barely perceptible surprise.
"I underestimated you. Your swordsmanship... is very strong."
Erza stood with her sword, the surface of her Flame Empress Armor bearing several slash mark, but not deep.
Her breathing was slightly ragged, but her eyes were as bright as stars.
"You're very strong too," she said frankly. "I've rarely met an opponent who could put so much pressure on me in a fight."
This was the truth.
Erza's swordsmanship was honed in countless life-and-death battles—simple, direct, and efficient, without any frills.
But Ikaruga's sword style was completely different—it was a "Way" that had been systematically trained and tempered a thousand times.
Every move was flawless, every slash precise to the millimeter, every change of form as smooth as flowing water.
The two were polar opposites, yet they had reached a strange sort of balance in their battle.
"But it's not enough." Ikaruga slowly raised her tachi, holding the blade level with her shoulder.
"If this is all you have, then the next move will be the end."
She took a deep breath.
The surrounding air began to grow hot and dry.
It was a pur heat originating from the "sword" itself.
The "Night Cry" in Ikaruga's hand began to hum deeply, and dark red patterns appeared on the blade's surface.
The patterns writhed like living things, emitting a terrifyingly high temperature.
The moisture in the air was rapidly evaporating, and even breathing felt scorching.
"Mumyo Sword Art: Garuda Flame."
She softly uttered the name of the sword technique, and then—
She slashed.
There was no wind-up, no charging, just a simple horizontal slash.
But the moment the blade swung, dark red flames erupted from the edge.
It was "sword fire" formed by compressing and heating sword intent to its absolute limit.
Its temperature was enough to instantly vaporize steel, and it could ignore most magical defenses to directly burn the soul.
The flames transformed into a giant red firebird, spreading its wings to envelop half the training ground.
Wherever the bird passed, the air was burned and distorted, and the bluestone floor melted and vaporized, leaving behind charred trenches.
A heatwave washed over Erza, making it difficult to breathe and causing a burning pain on her skin.
This was one of Ikaruga's ultimate moves.
She had once used this sword strike to slay a member of the Ten Wizard Saints who specialized in ice defense magic.
Erza's pupils constricted.
She could feel the terror of this strike; ordinary defenses would never block it.
But there was no fear in her eyes, only a more fervent battle lust.
"Requip: Adamantine Armor!"
Heavy, golden full-plate armor instantly covered her body, and a massive tower shield appeared in her left hand.
Erza slammed the shield heavily onto the ground, tucking her entire body behind it, preparing to tank the hit.
BOOM—!!!
The firebird crashed violently against the tower shield.
The ear-piercing sound of twisting metal exploded.
The shield's surface instantly turned crimson, its edges beginning to melt... the terrifying heat passed through the shield, making Erza feel as if she had been thrown into a furnace.
Crack...
A crack appeared on the shield's surface.
Erza gritted her teeth and held on, but the defense of the Adamantine Armor was actually beginning to crumble before this "Garuda Flame"!
"Is that all you have?" Ikaruga's voice came through the flames, tinged with disappointment.
"Relying on requipping armor for power is ultimately an external crutch. Your sword has no 'heart'."
That sentence, pierced Erza's heart.
She thought of Ace's battle just now—he had started by relying on Digimon, not on complex magic, but now he possessed a power greater than her own, easily crushing all his powerful enemies.
And what about her?
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