Even in such a disadvantageous situation, Maximilien’s determination burned brighter than ever. There wasn’t a single hint of retreat in him, and I found myself baffled by his unyielding will.

Seriously, what is he? The protagonist of a story? Why is he burning so brightly?

He had achieved so much already, yet he wasn’t content and continued to push himself beyond. I almost wanted to applaud him. If life is a flame that will eventually burn out, Maximilien’s would burn everything around him, leaving nothing but a colorless heap of ash. Eventually, he’d become the wind, flying off into the sky. Fleeting, but glorious. Applause, everyone.

But remembering that his goal is to consume me, my hands, which were about to clap, awkwardly shifted to scratch the back of my head. No matter how great a fire is to watch, if it’s coming to burn me, I either have to run or stomp it out.

That’s why I both admired and knew I had to kill Maximilien. His desires would consume me and turn me into some bizarre entity—perhaps the so-called King of Sin.

I made my move immediately.

“We need to fight! Ria, remember the ‘no-touch’ rule?”

I wasn’t sure if she would recall something from so long ago, but Historia responded smoothly.

“Oh, you mean that ridiculous rule you made up during our first spar? I remember. Some tall guy made an absurd proposal, and I thought I’d humor him. But you kept unfairly targeting my insides, and I was so mad I wanted to kill you back then.”

“I see you remember all the wrong details!”

Historia chuckled, and just then, I felt a subtle shift underfoot. Maximilien was using alchemy to soften the ground beneath us into a molten swamp of brass. I was about to leap when Historia reacted faster.

With a powerful stomp, she sent a shockwave of ki rippling through the ground. The steel beneath us dented, and a few gears were knocked loose. Maximilien’s alchemical transmutation failed mid-process due to the sudden change in the material, causing the mana he had used to dissipate.

Historia, having instinctively exploited alchemy’s greatest weakness, shrugged off her success and asked, “So, what’s the plan? Are we doing that?”

“Not with you, but with him!” I clarified.

Historia narrowed her eyes. “And why would you want to touch an old man like that?”

“I don’t! It’s not about that! I have a trick that’ll disable him if I can make contact!”

“Hehe, I get it. I saw earlier.”

The herb was clearly messing with her head, making her say whatever came to mind. We had to finish this quickly, before her condition worsened.

“Got it, Ria? I’ll support and create an opening. Trust me!”

“Trust, huh? Hmm, and what’s in it for me?”

“We’ll talk later! Just focus!”

With a grin in her eyes, Historia advanced. Fortunately, my concern about her was unfounded, as she closed in on Maximilien in an instant, unleashing a fierce barrage of blows.

Clang, clang, clang. Her fists and legs collided with Maximilien’s prosthetic arm, making it sound like two pieces of steel crashing into each other. Despite Historia’s limbs being made of flesh and bone, they emitted the same sharp clanging sounds.

Historia’s strikes were quick and fluid, her ki seamlessly flowing with her attacks. Each punch and kick was reinforced by her foundation ki, while the force of her blows was amplified by her strike ki. Her movements were swift and precise, making her seem faster and stronger with every attack.

In contrast, Maximilien’s movements were mechanical, like clockwork. Each of Historia’s punches was intercepted at the perfect angle by the gears in his prosthetic arm. His limbs moved unpredictably, deflecting her attacks while he waited for an opening. When he found one, he released all the power he had been storing up.

Without warning, his arm extended by a meter as the gears in his joints detached and reconnected. His sudden, unpredictable assault targeted Historia, but she had been expecting it.

As expected, he was preparing for this.

Historia, gripping her rifle like a hammer, swung it at Maximilien’s outstretched arm. Clang! The alchemical steel of his prosthetic arm clashed with the ki-infused steel of her rifle, resulting in a burst of sparks. The clash ended in a stalemate, with both parties being thrown backward.

But Historia’s rifle wasn’t just a hammer. As the two were thrown apart, her rifle flared to life, a flash of ki illuminating Maximilien’s monocle.

Bang! His head snapped back, and he skidded several meters away.

But he didn’t fall.

Despite the impact, Maximilien’s monocle, which was now shattered and dangling, had absorbed most of the damage. His monocle wasn’t just for sight—it was an artifact designed to protect him, and he had positioned it in the bullet’s path just in time.

Despite her frustration, Historia had clearly gained the upper hand in close combat. Realizing this, Maximilien slid back and raked his fingers through the steel floor, tearing it apart as he moved. The exposed gears beneath him revealed the inner workings of his Steel Beetle.

With a single gesture, Maximilien attracted the gears toward him, which latched onto his arm like magnets. They moved with a purpose, finding their positions and spinning into place. In seconds, he had rebuilt his prosthetic arm into something much larger and more functional. His new arm was now as large as Historia’s entire body.

‘Something’s wrong. His arm is bigger than before. Am I seeing things?’

No, you’re not seeing things—his arm is bigger.

With a thud, his massive arm swung toward Historia. It was several times larger and longer than before. Historia crossed her arms to block the blow but was still knocked back by the sheer force of the impact.

“Ugh…”

As she staggered, I seized the moment and called out,

“Ria! Move 8!”

Without hesitation, Historia reacted.

Back in our academy days, we had come up with a system to make me look better in practical combat than I was. We assigned numbers to specific moves and practiced them until they became second nature. Whenever I called a number, Historia would know exactly what to do, allowing us to appear far more synchronized than we actually were.

Historia pivoted on her left foot, spinning to the right, while I darted toward her back. We were bound to collide, but at the last second, we twisted our bodies, brushing past each other. In that instant, Historia shoved me with her shoulder, launching me forward like a bullet.

I hurtled toward Maximilien’s massive arm. With his reliance on gears, all I needed was a touch. If I could make contact, I could use his own magic against him, turning the gears inside his body to destroy him from the inside out.

‘I know his plan. He’s going to reverse my power and destroy me with my own magic.’

But Maximilien had anticipated this. His attention had never wavered from me, even while fighting Historia. As I closed in, he made a split-second decision.

‘In that case, I’ll sever the connection before he can reach me.’

With a loud crash, Maximilien detached his prosthetic arm, sending gears and metal fragments flying. He rolled across the ground, putting as much distance between us as possible.

Gears rained down around me, and I shouted,

“Move 2!”

Historia grabbed my cloak, yanking me to a stop mid-air. My feet flailed as the remnants of Maximilien’s arm collapsed in front of me, but thanks to Historia’s quick reaction, I avoided getting crushed.

“Ugh!”

Maybe crashing into it would’ve been better—my cloak nearly strangled me as it pulled tight around my neck.

After catching my breath, I steadied myself and said,

“At this rate, we’re in for a war of attrition. Ria, how much energy do you have left?”

“Hmm, hard to say… If I push myself, maybe I can keep going?”

“And if you don’t push yourself?”

“Two more shots.”

Two more shots, huh?

If we were at full strength, dragging this out would be the right move. Maximilien was rapidly depleting his resources, having already cannibalized most of the Steel Beetle to create his mechanical arm. Eventually, he’d run out of gears to fight with.

But we were at our limits too. We needed to end this now.

“What about your finisher?”

“If I push myself, I can manage.”

“Barely hanging on… but we’ll have to gamble on it. Alright, this time, I’ll make the opening.”

There wasn’t much of a plan—just brute force and hope. But that’s how it was for us animals. We either ran until we couldn’t, fought until we died, or made fatal mistakes that got us killed.

Not that I wanted any of that, but I’d fight to survive. With that thought, I drew another card from my deck.

It was time to end this.

I pulled another card from my deck, ready for the final move.

With a flick of my wrist, I revealed two cards at once. One was the Clover 8, the other, the Spade 10. As I held them, I carefully weighed my next action. I couldn’t defeat Maximilien outright with any one card. Even if I threw the entire deck at him and caused an explosion, it would only slow him down. But what I needed wasn’t power; I just needed a single moment, an opportunity. A brief opening where we could strike.

Fire? No chance. Wind? He’d counter that with gears like a giant fan. Alchemy and disintegration? He was a far superior alchemist to me. Using magic against a master would only end in failure.

That left me with one option.

I slid the cards back into the deck, wrapping my cloak tighter around my arms to conceal the next move.

‘He’s preparing something,’ Maximilien thought, studying me carefully.

He was wary, but his approach shifted. Instead of relying on gears, he began pressing them flat with his hands, quickly crafting makeshift blades, thin and sharp like throwing knives. His other arm reached out, scraping the surface of the Steel Beetle, shredding off a strip of metal to form a spear.

‘I’ve been avoiding lethal weapons so far, but now I won’t hold back,’ he thought.

Maximilien had finally reached the point where he would use any means necessary to kill me.

Spears, knives, gears — everything he could make was aimed in my direction. He threw them all at once with deadly precision.

‘The King of Humanity won’t fall so easily,’ Maximilien thought, even as the torrent of metal closed in on me.

“8th move!” I shouted to Historia.

Without hesitation, she reacted instantly. In sync with my command, Historia spun around, allowing us to switch positions in a smooth motion. The deadly storm of weapons, aimed at me, now hurtled toward her.

She barely had time to think, but her instincts kicked in.

‘If we switch, I’ll have to tank all of those attacks for him. I could block with my ki, but then… I’ll have nothing left to counterattack,’ she thought.

She knew the dilemma — surviving wouldn’t be enough. She had to strike back, and with only two shots left, she couldn’t afford to waste them.

Historia gathered all her remaining energy, focusing it into her rifle. Her ki condensed into a swirling vortex at the tip of the gun. This was no ordinary shot — it was a manifestation of her spirit, her entire strength distilled into a single attack.

Meanwhile, I had used my own spell, the Clover 8, a magnetic field designed to divert metal objects. But I knew it wouldn’t be enough on its own.

I placed the Spade 10 on top of the Clover 8, amplifying its power.

As the storm of blades and metal approached, the magic I cast created a magnetic field that began to pull every piece of steel away from Historia. The weapons meant to strike her veered off course, drawn toward me instead.

“Compass Gauss!” I commanded, releasing the full power of the spell.

The gears and knives, desperate to return to their source, changed direction and hurtled toward my spell, their paths warped by the overwhelming magnetic pull.

For a moment, Maximilien thought, ‘Did he really think that a simple spell could stop me?’

But as the magnetic field expanded, it began affecting the very gears within his own body, creating chaos in his mechanical limbs. I had bought the crucial moment we needed.

With the threat of the storm neutralized, Historia lined up her shot.

She took a deep breath, stabilizing her aim. All of her remaining strength flowed into the barrel of her rifle. She pulled the trigger, and with a loud bang, a shot was fired, but it wasn’t just a bullet — it was the essence of her ki, a strike that would pierce through anything.

The shot collided with Maximilien’s defenses, breaking through his protective gear. His last line of defense, the interlocking gears of his protective mantle, shattered under the force of the attack. The gears, his precious creations, exploded into fragments as his body was flung backward, gears spilling from his body like blood.

Maximilien, the once-invincible alchemist, was finally defeated, his body thrown through the air by the sheer force of the attack.