Chapter 83
Chapter 83
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Translator: Vine
Chapter: 83
Chapter Title: Yuria Repays a Debt (7)
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Just before Akashumir’s red lightning struck, I had a quiet thought.
As I was now, I was still far too weak to fight a truly strong opponent.
It was, in truth, unavoidable.
It had been less than three months since I’d awakened as Yuria.
Though I might catch up one day if I kept growing, I was still short on absolute time.
Which meant that if things continued as they were, I would be pierced by that massive, furious bolt of lightning and die.
It was a fate already sealed, one that could not be changed even if a miracle occurred.
*Well, I believe in the original story, but I’m not much of a believer in gods.*
In that fleeting moment, the inspiration that flashed through my mind was none other than the Tesseract.
Let’s think. Could the Tesseract truly help me overcome this life-or-death crisis?
Could I restore Greg, just as it had returned me and Answer to our normal states?
No, even a Greg in peak condition couldn’t defeat Akashumir.
Setting aside the fact that he was at a disadvantage in terms of compatibility, there was a considerable gap in their skills to begin with.
Then what about forcibly weakening my opponent?
Unfortunately, I had to be close enough to at least touch them to use the ability.
While logically possible, it wasn’t something I could actually do. Not when I was about to die.
So. Let’s think differently. How did Drakel use this?
He used the Tesseract to transform into his prime self from hundreds of years ago, before he had experienced aging.
But no matter what Drakel did, he could never become his current self, eternally unaging.
Such a worldline didn't exist, nor could it even be predicted as a possibility.
*The Tesseract has the power to draw out possibilities. That’s how Drakel was able to bring forth his past self. If so… what about a future that has yet to arrive?*
I pictured a future, someday, where I was the strongest version of myself, powerful enough to not even be pushed back by Raven.
If, among all possibilities, even one such worldline existed… I would never lose.
“…!”
*Rumble!*
Within the pitch-black storm clouds obscuring the pale yellow moonlight, a blood-red flash erupted.
And with a sensation of something abruptly overflowing, the world before my eyes began to creak.
***
The red flash lingered before my eyes like a scar.
The lightning, descending faster than sound, was like the saw of a demon tearing the world asunder.
An absurd amount of power, enough to reduce a mere human to ashes in an instant. Was this truly the power of the Seven Extremes?
Greg squeezed his eyes shut, pressing down on one knee to keep himself from collapsing.
But with Yuria standing before him, he, as an adult, could not fall.
A stubbornness bordering on obsession breathed strength into his crumbling body.
*Wait, but… why am I able to think so clearly right now?*
Then, he suddenly felt a sense of wrongness. A lightning spell of that magnitude should have meant instant death, or at the very least, a fatal wound that left him on the verge of dying even if he somehow survived.
So why was he, who had surely been caught in the blast, able to think so clearly?
Puzzled, Greg slowly opened his eyes and looked toward where Yuria had been standing just moments ago.
At the same time, *clatter*, he heard the sound of something falling to the ground.
*…Who is this?*
Standing before him was an unfamiliar woman.
She was just a bit taller than Greg, who was kneeling on one knee.
No matter how he looked at it, she didn't seem to be Yuria, whose head was much lower.
But the snow-white hair that fluttered over her small, constricting clothes stirred a deeply familiar feeling within him.
*No way.*
Slowly.
The woman, who had been extending a hand upward, turned her head to look at him.
And Greg couldn't help but gasp, his eyes widening.
The white-haired woman was absurdly beautiful.
Her fleetingly blank expression and coy gaze created a somewhat sorrowful atmosphere.
Added to that were her unrealistically perfect features and a bust that asserted its presence as if about to burst, making it believable even if she were introduced as a goddess sculpted from snow.
But what surprised Greg wasn't the woman's external appearance.
Within her violet eyes, reminiscent of flowers, was a gaze that seemed to look upon someone precious.
And the corners of her mouth, which curved into an unconscious arc, evoked a familiar sense of déjà vu.
“Yuria… is that you?”
“…?”
The woman’s head tilted naturally to one side.
Her expression was full of puzzlement, as if to say, *Huh? How did you know?*
But then Yuria, realizing belatedly that she wasn't wearing her mask, leaped up on the spot.
To think she hadn't even noticed because she was busy twisting the lightning bolt falling on her head.
Slightly embarrassed, she touched her neck, then smiled awkwardly and bowed her head to Greg.
*Is this the first time you’ve seen my face? Nice to meet you.*
At Yuria’s gesture, which seemed to say just that, Greg could only let out a hollow laugh.
He had no choice but to believe her, as her actions were so consistent he could recognize her even with a completely different appearance.
*What is this… Was this Yuria’s true form? No, there’s also the possibility that her usual kid form is real and this is a fake…*
Greg was simply confused.
Countless unresolved questions swirled chaotically in his mind.
But soon, he shook his head as if to brush off all such trivial matters.
At this moment, things like that weren't very important.
There was only one thing to consider.
The fact that, with Yuria's power, they might be able to fight back against that enemy.
Thus, Greg, wincing slightly as if enduring a surge of pain, asked Yuria.
“Yuria, do we… have a chance?”
“…!”
*Hmph, you even have to ask?*
Yuria smirked, then spun around with an incredibly confident motion.
Her condition was better than ever. She felt as if she could turn the world upside down right now.
And so, Yuria and Akashumir faced each other again.
The atmosphere was the opposite of their first encounter. The one at ease was Yuria.
And Akashumir, her face filled with a certain irritation, opened her mouth.
“What… are you? Seeing how your appearance suddenly changed, you don’t seem human. But to call you a metahuman, I don’t feel any magic from you… What are you?”
“…”
“Ha, you think I’m not even worth answering? Ah, this is so annoying, annoying, annoying… If I burn that pretty face of yours to a crisp, will you answer then? Huh?!”
Akashumir was clearly agitated.
First, by the fact that her full-power lightning spell had been so easily blocked.
Second, by the insolent attitude of the transformed Yuria.
Of course, Yuria was still unable to speak even after her transformation.
But to Akashumir, her calm, dismissive demeanor, as if she wasn't even listening, was infuriating.
“Disappear! Corridor Fulminis!”
*Crackle!*
What Akashumir chanted was an incantation from another world that summoned a corridor of lightning.
The law, greedily devouring magic, manifested a massive space made of lightning before them.
What followed was a rain of countless falling thunderbolts.
Every particle within that space was torn to shreds by currents sharper than needles.
“This is…! High-tier magic!”
While Greg was stunned by the suffocating pressure of the immense magic.
Yuria, as if to say, *Is this all?*, crossed her arms and casually pointed a single index finger upward.
*Hey, I’ve seen this magic once in the original story.*
Unfortunately for Akashumir, since Yuria knew how to counter this spell, it posed no threat to her.
*Should I do it something like this?*
*Fweeeen!*
From the tip of Yuria’s finger, a wave like a white arrow shot upward.
It was a mass of pure, unprocessed power that existed in a state prior to psychokinesis.
Had the Yuria from just a few minutes ago seen this, she would have screamed about what an absurd waste it was.
But that white wave pushed through the red lightning pouring down from all sides with sheer force and reached the ceiling.
The weak point of the Corridor of Lightning, which trapped its enemies in a circle, was its ceiling. The projected wave soon shattered the corridor-like prison that had confined them.
It was an absurd level of growth that made it impossible to recall the Yuria who had been struggling against mere probing attacks just moments ago.
“What… How did you break the Corridor so easily… Y-you rotten bitch!”
“…”
*Boom! Craaash!*
Akashumir continued to unleash lightning spells.
Each spell was powerful enough to overturn the ground and char buildings black.
But surprisingly, Yuria dealt with the magic with considerable ease.
She would clump together nearby building debris and hurl it forcefully, or twist the trajectory of incoming lightning bolts, causing them to strike harmlessly elsewhere.
The output, accuracy, and range of her psychokinesis… all seemed to have increased by several, even tens of times.
“This can’t be… There’s no way I’m being pushed back by some nameless nobody!”
*Ruuuumble!*
A current swimming like a great tidal wave rushed in from all directions.
It was a fatal spell that instantly turned anything it touched on the ground into black ash.
Before that deadly spectacle, which made even the tough Greg swallow nervously.
Yuria calmly took a long breath, gathered psychokinesis in her palm, and thrust it forward with all her might.
Then, a white afterimage bloomed from the tip of her palm like a flower petal, and an immense wave that crushed everything in its path erupted before her.
A clash of red lightning and a white wave. The one that leisurely swallowed its opponent was the white wave.
And when the towering dust cloud settled again, the battle was decided.
The one collapsed, clutching her abdomen, was Akashumir. The one standing tall was Yuria.
“Keuk, ugh…”
“…”
Yuria, brushing back the white hair that had fallen over her shoulder, smiled brightly.
It was an incredibly innocent face, one that didn't suit the mature charm her body exuded.