The twin wind drills collided head-on with "Devouring Hand".
The sheer force of Veylor's attack drove Tris's puppet deep into the rocky ground.
Yet the assault could not be sustained for long. It was quickly disrupted and torn apart by Tris's magic.
When the two destructive forces canceled each other out, the battle did not pause.
Drawn inward by the pulling force, one of Veylor's puppet's tentacles was seized by Berserker.
Still lying on the ground, Berserker tightened its grip—then twisted its body and hurled with brutal force.
Veylor and his puppet were flung through the air before crashing violently into the ground.
A dull, heavy impact echoed.
The puppet's left arm was completely shattered.
Veylor himself suffered severe injuries from the blow.
His condition was critical—on the verge of losing consciousness at any moment.
And yet—
Without hesitation, he and his puppet surged forward again.
Before Berserker could even fully rise, Veylor had already closed the distance.
His puppet had no legs—only a massive tentacle in their place.
That tentacle coiled tightly around Berserker, locking both of its arms in place.
A spell reinforced it, turning the appendage into an unyielding clamp.
Had the target been a human instead of a massive puppet, bones and organs alike would have been crushed instantly.
But Veylor did not stop there.
He unleashed another magic.
A torrent of water spewed from his mouth, crashing down onto Berserker.
The attack carried both corrosive force and toxic fumes capable of killing on contact.
'He's using this to counter me hiding inside a shell.'
Tris assessed the situation instantly.
And it was true—
Veylor had forced him into a difficult position.
If this continued, Tris could very well suffocate or be dissolved by the magic.
With Berserker restrained, its back could not open for escape.
The head could open—but that would mean stepping directly into the stream of toxic water… and facing Veylor at point-blank range.
And despite the damage, Veylor still had one functioning arm ready to strike.
'It hurts… How long has it been since I've been this badly injured?'
Veylor endured the pain as he maintained the assault.
That earlier impact had likely damaged his internal organs. Several bones might already be cracked.
His vision blurred.
But through sheer will, he forced himself to remain conscious.
'What other tricks do you have left?'
He focused intensely, controlling his puppet while watching for any movement from Tris.
Up to this point, Tris had already surprised him again and again.
This was the strongest opponent he had ever faced.
And so, he did not dare relax—not even for an instant.
It was that very focus that allowed him to notice something.
A faint sound cuts through the air.
Acting on instinct, Veylor immediately stopped the water attack and dodged.
A barrage of magic bullets tore through the space he had occupied just moments before.
Had he been any slower—
They would have killed him instantly.
Though his vision was impaired, Veylor could still make out the source—
a flock of birds diving from above.
But that single moment of distraction—
decided everything.
From within Berserker, Tris burst out the instant Veylor ceased his attack to evade.
A blade flashed.
Tris struck.
"Dimension Slash."
A fusion of Dimension Cut and the combat technique Mana Slash.
Mana Slash created a blade of condensed Spiritual energy and launched it toward the target.
Enhanced by Dimension Cut, the strike gained overwhelming sharpness and speed.
It came too fast.
Too sudden.
By the time Veylor reacted—
It was already too late.
The slash tore through the coiling tentacles and plunged deep into his chest.
Like a puppet with its strings severed—
Veylor and his construct collapsed to the ground.
The Mage who had served the village chief for so many years met his end in a single, fleeting moment.
Watching Veylor fall, Tris directed Berserker forward and removed the spatial ring from his right hand.
Next, he had the puppet separate the corpse from the construct.
That puppet would serve as valuable research material—particularly the human-puppet fusion technique Veylor had used.
Finally, Tris burned the entire body to ashes with magic.
In a world filled with strange and unpredictable magic, one could never be too careful.
Feigning death, lingering curses—anything was possible.
A finishing blow was always necessary.
Sever the head. Pierce the heart.
Or better yet—destroy the body completely.
Just as he had done.
Another lesson learned from his dreams.
The "protagonists" within those dreams always made sure of it.
Tris took a brief moment to silently thank that unknown "teacher" who had granted him such invaluable knowledge.
Only after everything was done did he finally relax, letting out a long breath.
'More exhausting than I expected.'
Throughout the entire battle, he had maintained constant tension, his mind working without pause.
To an outsider, the fight might have seemed smooth—almost effortless.
But in truth, every moment had been filled with danger.
One small mistake—
would have led to a disastrous end.
That was why Tris never underestimated any battle where his life was on the line.
And especially not this one.
Veylor had been a powerful, experienced Mage—
the strongest opponent Tris had faced in reality so far.
Though, to be fair—
Some of the beings in his dreams were far more absurd.
'Oh?'
Tris's eyes widened slightly as he observed another location through the vision of "Feathers".
He had intended to deal with Zarek's corpse—
But it seemed unnecessary.
A group of magical beasts had already taken care of that.
As for Zarek—
He had been killed earlier.
A sudden ambush from Feathers, while he was distracted, was dealing with low-level magical beasts during his retreat.
Without his puppet, his defenses had weakened.
Combined with his lack of vigilance toward lesser creatures—
The ambush had been effortless.
'Poor Veylor… risking everything for the slim hope of saving Zarek… without ever knowing the boy was already dead.'
Tris let out a quiet sigh.
'And judging by their earlier reactions, they already knew about my father… and Kane, Silas as well.
Which means…'
His gaze turned distant.
'Our dear village chief… does he have some method of sensing what just happened to his son and Veylor?'
A faint trace of regret crossed his mind—
at not being able to witness Zyron's reaction.