My eyes shut the instant I fell backward, the moment his power left me, because it had been far too vast for someone like me to bear without consequence.
It had not been violent in its passing, nor had it torn at me the way brute force often did.
Instead, it withdrew with a quiet finality that left something heavy behind, reverent and suffocating, as though I had brushed against something sacred that did not permit prolonged contact.
When my eyes opened again, the sky felt wrong.
It hung lower than it should have, pressing down with a muted, pervasive sadness that made the world feel smaller than it had moments before.
Oliver walked toward me at an unhurried pace, one hand pressed to his chest where the wound still resisted full closure.
That final strike lingered there like a thought he had not yet finished considering.
When he stopped, he looked down at me not with anger, but with mild curiosity.
"You missed," he said calmly. "My heart. Was that intentional?"
He coughed, staggered, and drove his blade into the earth to steady himself as he knelt, the movement precise even through the pain.
I shrugged weakly, my gaze fixed on the sky above him.
"Possibly," I said. "I was trying to kill you. Failing that, I was hoping to stall you long enough for my army to win its battle."
He shook his head slowly, almost regretfully.
"Fertical withheld half its forces," he replied. "A final card."
His eyes shifted toward the horizon.
"They are moving now. The central front will collapse."
I exhaled through my nose, the breath carrying more weariness than surprise.
"Sansir will struggle," I admitted. "Though I am not sure why you feel the need to tell me this."
"My courtesy costs nothing," he said evenly. "You are going to die, and there is no reason for you to do so ignorant."
The wound finally sealed, and he rose with a quiet breath, pulling his sword free from the ground.
"Your kingdom will fall," he continued. "Perhaps your afterlife will be peaceful."
He stepped closer and lifted the blade to my neck, the steel resting there with perfect steadiness.
"Or perhaps it will not. Either way, this much you should know."
I wondered, distantly, whether I was content with this death.
Perhaps Jennifer had already seized control of the battlefield.
Perhaps Malachi had been healed. Perhaps Sansir was doing what he always did, forcing victory through stubborn refusal to yield.
If so, dying here would not be meaningless.
Someone had to die.
It made a certain sense that it would be me.
I closed my eyes again.
God should have forsaken me. He had every reason to.
And yet, despite that certainty, I still reached out.
The urge to pray rose unbidden in my chest, unwelcome and instinctive, and I could not suppress it.
What does the condemned say to the savior it rejected. What does the creation say to the creator it abandoned. What does the worst say to the good.
Moments passed.
I felt his intent sharpen, absolute and unyielding, yet the blade did not fall.
I wondered briefly if he was hesitating or toying with me, but the thought died quickly.
Oliver did not play.
So I opened my eyes.
What I saw was worse than death.
Jennifer stood between us, her blade trembling as she strained against his strength, her boots gouging deep into the ground beneath her.
Light bled from her hands in uncontrolled pulses as she fought to hold him back.
She glanced down at me, breath ragged.
"I ran into Sansir," she said. "He screamed at me to come save you."
I clenched my sword and kicked upward, wind detonating beneath my heel as it slammed into Oliver's chest and sent him flying backward.
He struck the ground hard, teeth clenched as he slid across the earth before coming to a stop.
"Annoying," he muttered as he rose. "It seems I must kill two people now."
He bent his knees slightly and placed one hand behind his back, his posture casual and exacting.
"Come," he said. "Show me what the two of you can manage."
Jennifer pulled me to my feet, light washing over me as she sealed torn flesh and forced shattered nerves back into function. Her voice trembled with forced humor.
"We lose far more battles than we win," she said. "This is becoming embarrassing."
I wiped at my eyes and forced the tears away.
"Do not remind me," I replied quietly. "Let us just win this one."
We advanced together.
Wind gathered at my heels as I cut in from the left, driving my foot into the earth and lunging forward with everything I had.
The strike was fast and decisive, yet Oliver turned it aside with effortless precision, his blade barely shifting, as though he had anticipated the motion before I committed to it.
My Regalia surged, attempting to bind him, but a low resonance answered from his chest, and the force struck me head on, hurling me backward.
My power unraveled instantly, studied and dismissed as though he had already learned its limits.
Jennifer was already there, her hands blazing as she cast a focused burst of fire straight at his torso.
He evaded it in the same motion he used to redirect me and responded with two spells at once.
Light unfolded above me, forming a dense rain poised to fall like a judgment already passed. At the same time, a spiraling star condensed and tore through space toward Jennifer's heart.
I judged instantly that she could evade the latter more easily than the former.
So I envied her position.
The world twisted, and I stood where she had been, lifting my blade to meet the descending magic.
In that moment, I sensed it, a faint but potent pride woven into the spell, and understood my mistake.
Before the rain could fall, I exchanged our positions again, forcing myself back into its path and taking the full weight of his follow up attack.
Jennifer would not have survived it. A single direct hit would have erased her entirely.
Oliver met my gaze and surged forward, his blade curving toward my gut.
I shifted to counter, but he dipped low and kicked upward, knocking my sword just off its line.
In that opening, Jennifer struck from behind, her blade arcing down with desperate force.
He spun and struck her aside, sending her crashing to the ground, then bent backward in the same fluid motion and drove his sword through me before I could recover.
No, that was not quite right.
It was not that I could not move.
It was that I was not permitted to.
His authority seized me completely, and the fear that followed was not pain, but obedience, the terror of knowing my will no longer mattered.
Then something broke.
Something dark and unruly surged outward, and the world lurched.
Jennifer stood in front of me once more, her blade trembling as Oliver staggered back, fresh burns tearing across his shoulder as he gasped for air.
He wiped blood from his lips, eyes narrowing.
"Time stop," he said flatly. "So you can use time magic. How irritating."
I could not understand it. I had not perceived it at all, which should have been impossible with my logicae, unless something else had intervened.
Unless Jennifer, for a fleeting moment, had reached somewhere beyond even my perception.
I stumbled back, coughing, my heart racing as time snapped fully into place.
Jennifer remained where she stood, shoulders tense, stance rigid with intent.
If I had not known her better, I would have thought she had already decided she would die here.