[Third Person's PoV]
"Everyone, get ready. I'll open a portal to Luck," Stephen said, his voice calm but filled with urgency.
Noelle furrowed her brow, giving Stephen a puzzled look. "I thought you needed to have seen the place to teleport to it?"
"Mimosa's map gave me a rough idea of the layout," Stephen replied confidently, sliding on his sling ring. "It's not perfect, but I can open a portal directly to Luck."
With a swift, practiced motion, Stephen circled his hand in the air, and a shimmering golden portal sparked into existence. The air around them hummed with magical energy. Without hesitation, Asta charged through the portal, his sword already raised. "DON'T WORRY, LUCK! WE'RE HERE TO SAVE YOU!" he bellowed, his voice echoing as he disappeared into the portal.
On the other side, Asta emerged in a dense, foreboding fog, the air thick with an oppressive, purplish miasma. His sword swung through the mist as he frantically searched for his friend. "Luck! Where are you?!"
Noelle and Stephen followed close behind, passing through the portal just as it closed behind them with a soft hum. The moment they stepped into the fog, Stephen's cloak sprang into action, pulling its collar over his face to shield him from the noxious fumes. It didn't stop there—it extended its ends toward Noelle, wrapping gently around her lower face to protect her as well.
Asta's eyes scanned the area, his grip tightening on his sword as frustration built within him. "Where is he?" he growled, his senses heightened. Suddenly, a black line formed over his right eye, his iris shifting to a deep red. It began to swirl rapidly, creating a powerful gust of wind that pushed the thick fog aside.
As the mist cleared, they saw him—Luck, kneeling on the ground, his eyes half-lidded and body trembling. He was on the verge of collapse. In front of him stood a tall man with long black hair and a sharp goatee, exuding an air of smugness. "Another impetuous one," the man mused, a cruel smile on his lips. "And who might you be to him?"
"HIS FRIENDS!" Asta declared fiercely, stepping forward, sword at the ready. Noelle and Stephen flanked him, all three standing as a shield between Luck and the man.
Luck's body trembled as the last traces of purplish fog clung to him, swirling like a curse he couldn't shake. His breathing was ragged, and his eyes glinted with a crazed light. "That guy… he's my prey," Luck growled, his voice hoarse but laced with an unsettling glee. 'I'll win… I have to win… Mother won't accept me if I don't…' His thoughts raced, each one more desperate than the last. Lightning sparked around his limbs, wrapping him in a jagged armor of electricity. 'If I don't win… I'll be all alone.'
The man, Lotus Whomalt, a mage from the Diamond Kingdom, rubbed his chin thoughtfully, observing the scene with detached amusement. "Friends coming to the rescue, is it? Quite the predicament I've found myself in," he remarked, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
Luck's body moved like a bolt of lightning, dashing toward Lotus with terrifying speed, his limbs crackling with energy. His mind was consumed by a singular, obsessive thought: 'I have to win… for Mother.' But Lotus was quick, releasing another wave of smoke from his body, weaving through the fog like a ghost to dodge Luck's frenzied assault.
Asta gritted his teeth, watching his friend spiral deeper into madness. "Fine! Do what you want! But I'll save you whether you like it or not!" With a roar, he lunged at Lotus, cutting through the thick smoke with a single powerful slash of his sword.
Stephen turned to Noelle. "Cover me," he said calmly, his voice steady as he raised his hands. The air in front of him shimmered and cracked like fractured glass, and from the shattered space, his grimoire emerged, floating before him. With a flick of his wrist, the grimoire's pages began flipping rapidly, glowing with a soft, mystical light. His eyes scanned the ancient text, memorizing the spell in an instant.
As Stephen prepared his incantation, Asta shouted again, his voice strained with emotion. "I don't care what you think! You're my friend, Luck! I won't abandon you!"
Luck's continued to grin as that's all he had known to do however for the first time in what felt like an eternity, a genuine smile spread across his face. 'Im sorry mother…I'm not alone anymore...'
His body trembled, but this time it wasn't from battle lust—it was from joy. "Fighting together… does sound more fun," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the crackling of his magic.
Lotus, sensing the change, narrowed his eyes. "Well, this isn't good," he muttered, his smug demeanor fading as he raised his hands. His grimoire glowed ominously. "If that's how you want to play, I'll have to take things seriously."
[Smoke Creation Magic: Prison of the Fallen King]
Thick smoke surged from Lotus, forming an impenetrable barrier around the group. Asta, Luck, and Stephen found themselves enclosed in a suffocating dome of swirling smoke, the pressure mounting with each passing second.
Stephen's spell was finally ready. Orange magic circles materialized around his wrists and arms, glowing with intense power. With a graceful movement, he traced a circle in his palm, his voice clear and commanding. "I call upon the Winds of Watoomb!"
[Arcane Magic: Winds of Watoomb]
A fierce whirlwind exploded into existence, swirling with an orange hue. The tornado swept across the battlefield, sucking in the thick smoke and dispersing it into the sky. The once oppressive fog was now contained within Stephen's powerful spell, leaving the battlefield clear once more.
Lotus staggered back, stunned by the sudden turn of events. "Wha–" he stammered, but his shock didn't last long. He quickly prepared his next move, his mind racing.
But Luck was already ahead of him, charging his next attack with blinding speed.
[Lightning Creation Magic: Thunderbolt of Destruction]
Balls of crackling electricity formed in Luck's hands, and with a rapid series of thrusts, he unleashed them at Lotus. The lightning bolts struck him square in the chest, sending him flying across the dungeon and crashing into the stone wall with a sickening thud.
Lotus coughed up blood as the force of the impact cracked the wall behind him. His body slumped, but his grimoire glowed once more in defiance.
[Smoke Creation Magic: Hustling Lazy Car]
Smoke billowed beneath Lotus, forming into the shape of a makeshift car, whisking him away from danger. But Asta was already in pursuit. "Noelle! Boost me!" he shouted, his eyes locked on the retreating mage.
Without hesitation, Noelle raised her wand, she closed her eyes and held her wand, a magic tool that was supposed to help her suppress her magic. "Gooooooo!" she shouted, unleashing a powerful geyser of water that struck Asta's back, propelling him forward at lightning speed.
Asta adjusted his grip on his sword, catching up to Lotus in seconds. With a powerful swing, he dispelled Lotus's smoke magic, sending the mage crashing back into the wall.
As Asta drove his sword into the ground, halting his momentum, Lotus staggered to his feet, blood streaming from his nose, mouth, and the gaps where a few teeth used to be. His grimoire, glowing faintly, flickered as he tried to cast another spell, but before he could utter a word, a small, concentrated whirlwind formed beneath him.
With a forceful whoosh, the wind sent Lotus hurtling into the ceiling, his body slamming against it with a sickening thud before gravity yanked him back down to the ground. He barely had time to groan before the whirlwind lifted him again, smashing him against the dungeon wall like a ragdoll.
The group turned, wide-eyed, toward Stephen. His hands were still outstretched, guiding the winds with casual, precise motions. "What?" Stephen asked innocently, shrugging. "He was still conscious."
Lotus, groaning in pain, attempted to rise again. His limbs trembled as he struggled to find his balance, only for the whirlwind to slam him once more—this time bouncing him between the ceiling, floor, and walls in rapid succession.
Asta, Noelle, and Luck all stared at Stephen, expressions ranging from shock to disbelief.
"He was reaching..." Stephen explained, his voice trailing off awkwardly.
Lotus, now lying face down on the ground, slowly raised a trembling hand, a single finger pointing skyward in a feeble attempt to cast. Without missing a beat, the wind whipped him up once again, smashing him into all four walls in quick succession, leaving cracks in the stone.
When he tried to lift his hand again, it flopped uselessly to the ground. He didn't even make it halfway up before it collapsed, utterly defeated. The room fell silent except for Lotus's pitiful groans.
Everyone stared at Stephen, mouths agape. Stephen shifted uncomfortably under their gaze, offering a sheepish smile. "I can fix him..." he said, half-joking, half-apologetic.
Asta blinked a few times, unsure whether to laugh or be concerned, while Noelle shook her head, muttering under her breath, "You overdid it."
Luck, however, let out a wild chuckle. "That was... perfect!" He grinned, the excitement still crackling in his veins.
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