Chapter 218: True Spirit Magic

Roselyn nodded sharply through the telepathic link, her determination cutting through the chaos like a blade.

She immediately adjusted her trajectory, launching herself toward her current target, the Third Born, with renewed focus.

Her golden braid whipped behind her as she closed the distance in a blur, her fists already glowing with that familiar radiant energy.

Instead of wild, sweeping punches to the torso, she began aiming specifically for the neck: short, precise strikes that targeted the vulnerable juncture where grey flesh met the base of the skull.

When that proved difficult, she shifted to deep, penetrating thrusts toward the chest; driving her knuckles in like spears, seeking whatever core or vital point might lie hidden beneath the rippling clay-like surface.

Claire mirrored the shift almost instantly, her ever-changing blades adapting to the new priority.

One moment her weapon was a long, elegant sword that she swept in wide arcs to keep the Fourth Born at bay.

The next it shortened into curved daggers for close-in work, then fused into a thrusting spear that she drove forward with pinpoint accuracy toward the Fifth Born’s chest.

Her god-level dexterity made the transitions seamless; every form fitting perfectly to the angle and distance she needed, her body twisting through unbelievable mid-air contortions to line up the shots.

Violet light shimmered along the edges of her weapons as they struck, carving shallow furrows that bubbled and hissed but never quite deep enough… yet.

But… as I had feared… they were getting smarter, after all.

These numbered Borns—the anomalous Children—were adapting with terrifying speed, growing more intelligent and refined with every second their lives remained unended.

Roselyn could hammer their bodies over and over, shattering limbs and caving in torsos with explosive golden shockwaves that turned their grey flesh to mist.

Yet the instant she committed to the neck or a deep thrust into the chest, the Third Born suddenly became far more defensive.

Its massive frame shifted with surprising grace—ducking, weaving, or raising thick arms to shield the vulnerable spots—displaying a level of skill and anticipation that almost matched her own battle sense.

It wasn’t just brute force anymore; it was reading her patterns, countering with deliberate blocks and counters that forced her to pull back or risk overextending.

The same pattern played out with Claire.

She could smash with hammers that cratered the ground on impact, slash with swords that parted flesh like silk, thrust with cool, razor-sharp spears that pierced deep…

But whenever she aimed for the necks or chests of the Fifth and Fourth, those two Borns suddenly displayed heightened evasive skill.

They twisted at the last instant, slipped sideways with liquid grace, or intercepted her strikes with forearms that hardened like stone on contact.

The openings she created elsewhere vanished the moment she targeted what mattered most.

Well, I only needed hard data: concrete proof of whether or not they could actually be killed if struck at either their necks or their chests.

Maybe that was where their core actually resided, some hidden parasitic heart that kept the rest regenerating. So I had to test it properly.

And I raised my right hand toward the distant battlefield where the three fairies were locked in combat with the numbered Borns.

I remembered what happened last time I used magic on the Eldest Born: the fireball had done next to nothing worth noting except feed her power, making her aura spike and her hand regenerate faster.

And when I hit her with pure fire-attribute energy, it wasn’t even worth her time; she’d swatted it like a bug or devoured it outright.

I couldn’t guarantee the same wouldn’t happen with these lesser Borns, but I had an idea to breach whatever defense they might share.

Some glowing pebbles began to form in the air around my outstretched right hand; like small, dense orbs of concentrated elemental force.

Red for fire, blue for water, white for light, black for darkness, light green for wind, golden brown for earth, silver for metal, and a crackling yellow for lightning.

They swirled there calmly at first, then faster, orbiting my arm in a mesmerizing halo of multicolored light that cast shifting shadows across my face and the ground below.

Isabelle’s immediately mouth fell open; she stared in stunned silence, unable to close it as the display unfolded right beside her.

The sheer variety and raw potency radiating from the stones made the air hum faintly.

Well, what I was doing was basically [Spirit Magic]—except I was treating myself as the spirit.

True Spirit Magic allowed casters to draw power directly from elemental or divine spirits, who wielded phenomenal abilities without relying on conventional mana circuits or spell formulas.

It bypassed normal magic systems entirely, tapping into something closer to divine authority.

I had a few fragments of divine power inside me—remnants from bonds, blessings, and whatever else had accumulated—but I still struggled to make proper use of them due to inexperience and lack of intensive training.

Still, I could channel those forces outward and treat them as if I were performing Spirit Magic.

And that’s exactly what I did: I positioned myself as an external source of energy, powering up a set of [Elemental Stones] with pure, unregistered force.

Even a single one of these could punch through a bulletproof shield like a missile and detonate with devastating effect.

And here I had eight; each one brimming with a different elemental essence, ready to overwhelm any adaptive defense.

Sys quietly adjusted my focus and range in the background so I wouldn’t miss; her presence in my mind was calm and precise, calibrating trajectories down to the millimeter.

If this succeeded, we would have won halfway; the Borns would be proven killable, and the fairies could finish the job.

But if I failed… I’d understand one scary truth.

PEW!

The stones launched from my hand in a silent, blinding streak; eight multicolored comets that crossed the battlefield in an instant.

To the fairies and the Borns alike, it must have looked like holes simply tore themselves open in the creatures’ bodies: clean, glowing punctures appearing without warning in necks and chests, the projectiles passing straight through before erupting in brilliant explosions several distances beyond.

The blasts shredded clusters of mindless lesser Children caught in the aftermath, grey sludge vaporizing in flashes of elemental fury—fire blooming, lightning crackling, void swallowing light—leaving smoking craters and scattered remnants in their wake.

[Benjamin… seriously…] [Rose]

Roselyn only stared in awe at the falling forms of the titans, her golden braid still swaying slightly from the motion of the blasts.

The six numbered Borns, once these towering and adaptive threats, were now collapsing in slow, unnatural motion across the scarred plain.

Their grey, clay-like bodies tilted forward at odd angles, bald heads cocking to one side in what looked like genuine confusion.

The flat golden glows that served as their eyes flickered erratically like dying bulbs on the verge of burning out, dimming, flaring, and dimming again, as if whatever parasitic intelligence animated them was struggling to process the sudden, catastrophic damage.

Black ink oozed from the clean punctures where the Elemental Stones had passed through, pooling beneath them in thick, steaming puddles that hissed against the torn earth.

Isabelle managed to find her voice after a long moment of stunned silence—

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