Patricio doubted what he was seeing.
In Ludger’s right hand was unmistakably a hammer.
Considering that the thing trying to emerge from that black hole had been a heretical god, the hammer’s appearance felt strangely out of place.
But Patricio was soon struck dumb with shock—for from that hammer emanated a divine power beyond description.
“What... is that...?”
While Patricio stared in disbelief, Bentham, commander of the Order of the Holy Guardians of Light, suddenly roared like a man possessed.
“Knights of the Order! Do not be afraid! The being before us is the heretic—our eternal enemy! Strike down this heretic who dares wield the power of God!”
His voice carried tremendous force.
The holy energy in his shout swept across the battlefield, dispersing the chilling aura that had oppressed their hearts.
The pale faces of the soldiers regained color; the terrified steadied their breathing.
To still the panic of thousands with a single cry—indeed, such was the dignity befitting the commander of the Holy Guardians.
Of course, having exerted himself so greatly, Bentham was drenched in cold sweat, but his body, trained like steel through years of discipline, endured it well enough.
His personal paladins—those who had served him longest—each drew their weapons.
Maces, swords, shields shaped like crosses.
From the holy knights, holding their weapons high, warm light overflowed.
That light steadied Bentham’s heavy breathing.
“Prepare yourselves!”
He shouted, then leapt first into the crater below.
Seeing him, the paladins followed in unison.
Despite their heavy armor, they moved as swiftly as if wearing light clothes.
They dove into the crater—and in a blink, white afterimages {N•o•v•e•l•i•g•h•t} streaked through the air as they closed the distance to Ludger.
Bentham, leading them, raised the shield in his left hand and thrust the short spear in his right straight toward Ludger’s heart.
At that moment, when Ludger seemed frozen in place, unmoving—
Bzzzzt!
A bluish current surged from Ludger’s hammer, blocking Bentham’s spear.
And that wasn’t all.
Bentham gritted his teeth, trying to force his spear forward—but instead, the lightning began to melt the spear from its tip downward.
“A sacred artifact... forged with divine power?”
Bentham’s eyes widened in horror as he saw his weapon dissolving.
As the commander of the Holy Order, his spear was no mere weapon—it was one of the Church’s holy relics.
When infused with divine power, it shone with a radiant light, multiplied destructive power, and possessed durability rivaling the finest masterwork weapons used by knights.
Yet that sacred weapon couldn’t even pierce a single defense; instead, it was disintegrating. Bentham could only stare, speechless.
Bzzzzt!
The current intensified, melting his spear completely before slamming against his shield.
Bentham poured divine power into the shield and planted both feet firmly into the ground.
Like his spear, the shield was a holy relic of the Church.
To prove it, the lion engraved upon the shield opened its jaws wide and roared, unleashing a wave of holy energy.
An attack powerful enough to grind even boulders to dust thirty meters away.
A sacred strike that could tear flesh and bone apart in an instant.
But as soon as that power touched the lightning—it was shredded to pieces.
Before Bentham could even gasp, lightning struck the shield head-on.
Despite his legs being buried ankle-deep into the ground, Bentham couldn’t withstand the impact and was flung backward.
The knights following behind froze in disbelief.
They could never have imagined that their commander—the strongest among them—would lose in the very first clash.
Yet none of them stopped their charge toward Ludger.
Their commander had opened the way. It was their duty to follow.
With determination burning in their eyes, they infused their weapons with divine power and rushed at Ludger from all sides.
Bentham, thrown backward and coughing blood, shouted hoarsely:
“Kh–! No! Stop!”
But it was too late.
The paladins were already surrounding Ludger, charging from every direction.
At that same instant, the lightning from Ludger’s hammer erupted skyward.
KWA-RUUUUNG!
A single colossal bolt of lightning split the heavens.
Ludger stood motionless at its center.
Yes.
Ludger Cherish stood there as if nothing had happened.
Around him, at his feet, were only charred black marks—the burnt remnants of what had once been holy knights.
What... just happened?
The soldiers of the Theocracy of Bretus, watching from above the crater, doubted their eyes.
The entire Order of the Holy Guardians had vanished.
Just a single bolt of lightning—and everything, from their armor to their sacred relics, was utterly gone.
If they had merely been blown away, or their weapons shattered, that would have been understandable.
But no—those who had stood there had been reduced to ash in an instant. The sight was so unreal that even witnessing it firsthand felt like a dream.
“Wh... what...”
As someone finally found the courage to speak, a violent purple lightning bolt shot up from the center of the subjugation army.
“Kyahahahaha!!”
Wrapped in purple lightning from head to toe, laughing like a madman, stood the violet mage—Coilwat.
“Yes! That’s more like it! This is the kind of opponent that makes things fun!”
Coilwat trembled with ecstasy.
The thrill of lightning running through his entire body—it was intoxicating.
The lightning Ludger had just unleashed mesmerized him completely.
“I was going insane from boredom!”
Coilwat had joined this operation because he was told he’d get to fight an 8th-circle mage.
The truth was, he found the world unbearably dull.
Everything was tedious—empty, monotonous. There was no stimulation left.
Ever since he became the Violet Mage and could constantly cloak himself in lightning, his threshold for pleasure had risen too high.
Like a man dying of thirst who drinks seawater, he was always craving more—more thrill, more risk.
And there was only one thing that could sate that craving—
The terror of facing a stronger opponent, on the brink of death.
Only that made him feel truly alive.
But this mission—to hunt a so-called blood vampire—had been nothing but disappointment.
A scripted play, without even a real fight.
Until now.
A true monster had appeared where he least expected.
Just one man—but one who couldn’t be underestimated.
The lightning that had vaporized the paladins was power rarely seen even across the entire continent.
But so what?
Coilwat grinned. He could control lightning of equal force himself.
More than that—he was a Color Mage.
If he wished, he could command the natural lightning of the skies at will.
“Let’s see whose lightning is stronger—yours or mine!”
With both arms extended, Coilwat sent the purple current spiraling from his body down his arms like twin serpents, their open jaws lunging toward Ludger.
Ludger swung his hammer toward the oncoming bolts.
Flash!
A dazzling light burst forth as blue lightning surged upward like a reversed waterfall.
Coilwat’s violet lightning clashed with Ludger’s, exploding in midair.
Light detonated, energy spread outward, and deafening thunder rolled across the field.
The intertwined bolts writhed and roared like two giant serpents locked in combat, each trying to devour the other’s neck.
The clash ended in a stalemate.
Rather than anger, Coilwat felt exhilaration.
“Ahh! Yes! More! Let’s keep going! That can’t be your full power!”
From Coilwat’s body, a pillar of violet light stretched from ground to sky.
Lightning crashed down from the cloudless sky, drawn into him, making his form shine even brighter.
At that moment, Coilwat’s power could move the entire Isla Machia alone for days.
Over ten billion volts.
And the terrifying thing was—his lightning wasn’t “magically simulated.”
It was the lightning of nature itself.
Its speed—one-third the speed of light. A hundred thousand kilometers per second.
When unleashed, it reached and erased its target within fractions of a second—an attack faster than thought.
Coilwat was certain Ludger couldn’t react in time.
But then—something impossible happened.
His lightning was being absorbed—pulled into Ludger’s hammer.
“What...?”
What was happening?
“My lightning—how?!”
Coilwat was a Violet Mage.
A Color Mage of lightning—a single-element wielder.
He could only use lightning magic, but all lightning in nature obeyed his will.
He could make it strike as a single line, or swirl in rings, however he pleased.
If he aimed to hit, nothing could evade it unless shielded by magic.
But now—his lightning was being devoured.
“Wait... this feels just like that black hole from before—”
While Coilwat gaped in disbelief, Ludger looked down at the lightning now coiled within his hammer—and smirked faintly.
“A so-called mage of lightning, yet you’re this unimpressive.”
“What?”
Veins bulged on Coilwat’s face.
Ludger’s words had struck directly at his pride—his reverse scale.
“Still don’t get it? Lightning...”
Ludger pointed the hammer straight at him.
“...this is what lightning truly is.”
Flash!
A streak of lightning shot from the hammer toward Coilwat.
It wasn’t even a full-powered strike, merely a probing attack—but it made Coilwat’s spine tingle in terror.
He tried to exert his authority—to bend all electricity to his will and block it.
But—
‘No. This one... I can’t stop.’
Instinct screamed before thought could form.
As one merged with lightning itself, Coilwat could move at comparable speed.
That saved him.
He didn’t dodge by reacting—his electric field moved his body reflexively.
Whatever the attack, the currents enveloping him detected it first and guided him away automatically.
Unthinkable reflexes—and a speed that surpassed them.
The Violet Mage was the fastest among mages.
Yet even as he avoided Ludger’s strike, cold sweat ran down his back.
‘He... deliberately made me dodge!’
He bit his pierced lips hard.
To be toyed with by lightning itself—by another’s lightning—
When had such a thing ever happened in his life?
A searing humiliation clawed at his bones.
To wash it away, Coilwat unleashed even greater magic.
“You should’ve finished me with that last strike. I’ll make you regret your arrogance about what lightning truly is.”
Crackle! Crackle-crash!
Electricity swelled around him, violet lightning winding again and again about his body.
Its density grew darker, its power overflowing outward.
“Everyone—back!”
“If you don’t want to die, move!”
Light too bright to look at engulfed Coilwat’s form until his body vanished.
Within the violet sphere, only a faint silhouette of a man could be seen.
Coilwat had become lightning incarnate.
Sparks of current leapt outward from the sphere, thin as threads, like flickering embers.
One struck a nearby mage who hadn’t escaped in time—
—and left nothing but ash.
Each of those tiny filaments carried the power of a thunderbolt born within a stormcloud.
And Coilwat was wrapped in thousands of them.
“N-no one can stop that now. If Coilwat’s truly serious, everything around here will melt before it ends.”
A mage who knew his power murmured in horror.
Once Coilwat went berserk, friend and foe alike were doomed. He was a walking nightmare on the battlefield.
Ludger simply watched him calmly.
Then he raised his left hand—the one not holding the hammer.
From the black void, a white light descended—
—and took shape in his grasp.
Like lightning itself, freshly stolen from the heavens.