Gustaf and Helena stood before him, their Psychic Powers surging in brilliant auras as they poured every last ounce of strength into shielding Benladra’s Divine Realm. Thalor laughed mockingly at their desperate struggle; they were channeling so much energy into the barrier that they could barely move. “Having trouble? Honestly, it’s your own fault for spreading your forces too thin across the world… Hahahahah!”

He stepped closer and pressed his hand against the barrier. A sharp, electrifying shock seared his flesh, charring it to a crisp in an instant. Yet within a second he regenerated fully—the damage transferred instead to someone else bound to his Heart.

“Heh. You pride yourself as the Director of the VPI, the hero destined to save the world from the Dimensional Labyrinth, yet you’ve brought ruin to your wife’s kingdom. Her legacy ends here, along with Yggdrasil’s and the Dragon King’s influence on Earth.”

Gustaf clenched his teeth so hard his jaw trembled, his eyes blazing with fierce light. He had never encountered anyone so utterly vile—someone who had taken every noble of Frostbane hostage, using them as living shields while twisting their minds through manipulation and brainwashing, all to reach the one thing most precious to him: his own wife.

“Why… Why do you want Benladra? She’s sleeping. She has no use to you. Leave her out of this…” he muttered, summoning every ounce of psychic power he could muster.

Thalor tilted his head as though genuinely puzzled, then shook it and laughed again. His long dark blue hair swayed with each chuckle, his sharp red eyes glowing intensely. Long elven ears framed his face, and a faint moonlight mark shimmered on his forehead. His bloodline descended from the Moonlight Elves, a rare ancient tribe of Yggdrasil.

Very rarely did these descendants awaken the power of Moonlight Element Magic, granting immense dominion over minds, illusions, and even dreams themselves. They could forge mirrors to reflect and peer into a person’s soul… and, with sufficient malice and mastery, control and corrupt that soul, mind, and spirit.

Thalor was a prodigy among his kin, wielding this terrifying power… or rather, the one pretending to be Thalor.

“Haha, why would we want her, you ask?” Thalor smiled gently, pressing his hand harder against the barrier. The constant burning healed instantly, the agony shunted to another unfortunate soul. Slowly, forcefully, he began forcing his way through. “It’s quite simple. You have a goddess and a mighty dragon lying there, gathering dust. Soon the Grievance’s curse will devour her soul entirely, leaving nothing but an empty husk.”

“That’s not true. Benladann has a powerful soul,” Gustaf said, fighting to stay calm. “She will return. I only need to find a cure—I’m so close…!”

“Is that so?” Thalor laughed again, colder this time. “Well, in our country we believe she’s being wasted. We want her… to become our weapon.”

“What did you say?!” Gustaf’s fury erupted; the barrier flickered violently under the strain.

“Unlike you fools who keep fighting the Dimensional Labyrinth, we’ve decided to harness it for our own gain instead,” Thalor said smoothly. “Queen Benladra’s body is the perfect vessel for Him. Once I seize her Heart, the process will be complete. So please, allow me to relieve you of your burdens, King Gustaf.”

“I will never let you hurt her,” Gustaf growled. “I will never let you harm her…! No… never! You’ll have to kill me to reach her.”

“Ah, what a bold request,” Thalor laughed, now stepping forward through the incredibly dense barrier. His body fried and reformed in endless cycles. “Shall we grant it then?”

“Bastard! Stop!” Helena screamed, channeling even more psychic power. She tried to shove him back, twisting space itself into multi-layered dimensional barriers. “How many people have already died?!”

“Hoh, who knows? Dozens? Hundreds?” Thalor shrugged carelessly. “It doesn’t matter. As long as they are my Followers, I remain invincible.”

Thalor Vex thrust both hands forward. Behind him loomed the towering, intimidating figure of his Incarnation.

“Now please, let me in.”

He swung forward; the golden, metallic hands of his Incarnation slammed against the barrier.

And then…

RUMBLE!

The psychic forcefield shuddered, cracks spiderwebbing across its surface. Thalor wasn’t alone. Behind him stood a tall woman with long red hair and piercing purple eyes, staring straight at the two Espers.

Her Aura pulsed with the unmistakable power of a Spiralwalker. Fantasium spread outward in waves, sprouting vines and crimson flowers that formed a garden of perpetual bliss around her, ensnaring the senses of anyone caught within.

“Ver—or should I call you Thalor now? Hurry up and stop playing around.”

“Hahah, you may call me Verlan if you so desire, Lady Seraphine. I am merely wearing this boy’s skin after devouring his soul. His powers are most useful and resonate so perfectly with my Spiral.”

“I can tell. Now hurry.”

“Yes, Lady Seraphine.”

Thalor smiled warmly as he pushed forward through the psychic energies. His hands and entire body broke apart and regenerated in the same split second, over and over.

Gustaf and Helena realized with dawning horror that he was slaughtering everyone his Heart had connected to at this very moment.

Dozens of people—citizens, nobles—across Frostbane’s Capital writhed in excruciating agony, crushed, burned, exploding from within.

All of them were bound to Thalor’s Fantasy Heart as his Fanatic Followers, charmed and utterly powerless to resist, obeying his every command.

And surrendering their lives for him.

“Hahahaha! HAHAHAHA!”

Thalor laughed wildly as he strode through the devastation. Gustaf and Helena stared in utter disbelief while he regenerated endlessly, unstoppable.

Completely indestructible, any barrier or dimensional dome that tried to halt him shattered the moment he forced his existence through, even if it meant dying again and again.

“Now, where was I? Ah right, give me your wife’s body already, stupid old man.”

“NEVER!!!”

Gustaf roared in fury and crashed into Thalor. His Psychic Power coalesced into perpetually spinning spheres of transparent gray energy.

Every Esper manifested a unique Psychic Ability. For Gustaf, it was Gravity—electromagnetic energies gathered, compressed, and shaped into these devastating spheres.

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep