From the tips of the tentacles on the Banshee-like puppet's back, countless wind bullets shot toward Tris and his two puppets.
Each projectile spun violently through the air, forming deadly, drill-like attacks.
The fighting style closely resembled Kane's—
a barrage of small-scale magics launched continuously to overwhelm the opponent.
But the difference lay in sheer lethality.
Against Kane, Tris could rely on a single puppet to defend and counter.
Now, even with both puppets in play, he was being forced onto the defensive—barely holding on.
Each wind bullet moved faster and struck harder than Kane's water blades.
And while Kane's puppet had only four arms, Veylor's puppet wielded eight tentacles—
all firing relentlessly, without pause.
'His Spiritual energy… that's the real problem.'
Tris gritted his teeth as he struggled to evade and defend.
Veylor understood that close combat was one of Tris's strengths.
So instead of allowing The Twin to close the distance, he kept his opponent at bay.
Rather than risk a direct clash, he relied on his advantage—
a far greater reserve of Spiritual energy, born from years of experience.
With that, he suppressed Tris through an unending storm of magic.
It was the mark of a seasoned Mage—one who knew both his own strengths and his opponent's, and exploited them without hesitation.
This is not good at all," Tris thought.
Each time he tried to use one of his two puppets to approach, Veylor's puppet would immediately carry him farther away.
At times, Tris tried to counter with magic bullets fired from his puppets' fingertips, but the tentacles intercepted every shot.
A simple tactic—overwhelm through sheer volume of attacks.
Simple… yet incredibly annoying.
It reminded him of a certain golden-haired mongrel from his dreams, endlessly firing weapons from a treasury.
Thankfully, this opponent wasn't pulling out any spinning red swords.
If that ever happened, retreat would be the only option.
Even while fighting for his life, stray fragments of useless dream-knowledge still slipped into his thoughts.
Clicking his tongue, Tris pushed those distractions aside and refocused.
He couldn't afford to wait for Veylor to run out of Spiritual energy.
At this rate, he would collapse first.
Defense and evasion were already draining him.
Worse still was the mental strain.
While Veylor could attack at leisure, Tris had to maintain absolute concentration.
A single mistake—
would mean death.
And the pressure weighing on him was far greater than Veylor realized.
Because Tris wasn't just controlling The Twin.
That truth… only he knew.
'This won't work. Time to change the game.'
With that thought, Tris reached into his spatial ring.
'The child's reflexes and mobility are terrifying,' Veylor thought.
Even while dodging with his own body, Tris still managed to shield himself with his puppets.
Against anyone else, Veylor would have already riddled their body with holes.
Yet minutes had passed—
and not a single drop of blood had been drawn.
He even took to the air, attacking from above.
Still, Tris's puppets moved through the sky as if running on solid ground.
The battle only grew more intense.
In truth, that ability had only been added shortly before Tris arrived at Dorn—a result of over half a month of refining his Space magic.
Watching closely, Veylor finally realized the truth.
Tris could use Space magic.
Like Kane, he understood that Tris could not learn such magic from books or from the village teachers.
Which meant only one thing—
That power must have come from the evil god.
And that realization only strengthened his resolve to eliminate Tris.
After a prolonged stalemate, Veylor noticed a shift.
Tris pulled his puppets back slightly, forming a defensive line—
while retrieving something from his spatial ring.
What emerged was massive—over 2.5 meters tall.
A humanoid puppet.
Broad shoulders, a thick torso, and a protruding, rounded belly.
Every limb bulged with exaggerated muscle, radiating raw strength.
Its massive hands resembled sledgehammers.
Its face… grotesque enough to unsettle even hardened butchers.
This was No. 2: Berserker—a puppet Tris had created after receiving his prize from the puppet tournament a year ago.
The puppet's back opened, and Tris immediately leapt inside after recalling the ring of the two puppets, 'The Twin.'
Once the rear hatch closed, the puppet seemed to be infused with a soul and transformed into a living creature.
Without a moment's hesitation, it charged straight at Veylor and his puppet.
Leaning forward, the massive puppet rushed ahead in a straight line, ignoring all attempts to evade.
Its enormous arms raised like shields, blocking the incoming wind bullets.
'So the twins specialize in speed and agility… while this one focuses on defense and strength?'
Veylor analyzed, continuing his barrage.
But this time—
The attacks were far less effective.
The reason was simple: Space Barrier.
A defensive magic Tris had integrated into Berserker during its creation.
Even more troublesome was the puppet's structure.
Hidden safely within, Tris no longer had to worry about his own body.
All focus could now be directed toward offense.
Despite its massive frame, the puppet moved with shocking speed.
Using Flash Steps, Tris rapidly closed the distance.
Sensing danger, Veylor immediately poured more Spiritual energy into his puppet, increasing its flight speed.
One tentacle wrapped around him as he maneuvered through the air—dodging, probing, striking from different angles in search of an opening.
Meanwhile, Tris pressed forward relentlessly, trying to catch his elusive opponent.
If the first phase of the battle had been like a deadly game of target practice—
then now—
It had become something else entirely.
A lethal game of pursuit, where neither side could afford even a single mistake.