Saint Lucian reached the central part of the forest, his white robe flowing behind him despite the still air. The black crown atop his head gleamed as his unseen eyes surveyed the landscape ahead.

Before him were the massive root barriers, different from the northern and southern sections. Here, the roots were thicker, older, and more densely packed while also glowing with a faint light.

The forest shook violently.

Saint Lucian glanced left to see crimson light spread through the sky in that direction.

It was brilliant, terrible, unmistakable, and such a sight made him hum thoughtfully. I guess Vlad has already reached. Okay, then.

Saint Lucian's body began to shine, and then, behind him, a shape started manifesting. He began tapping into his Beast Spirit, Metataron.

The shape glowed in both black and white simultaneously, the two colors existing together without mixing or canceling.

The shape hung behind him like a sigil, a towering mark of intersecting lines and crosses that seemed to shift perspective depending on how one looked at it. Wisps of black light trickled from the sigil, curling downward like smoke seeking earth.

Veins of white fire pulsed upward through it in a steady rhythm, creating patterns that hurt to track.

Then swords appeared around Lucian.

Beautiful swords, each one unique in design but sharing the same fundamental perfection. Some had straight blades, others curved, while a few bore ornate guards, and others simple crosspieces.

The symbol of roots appeared on each hilt, glowing with that impossible black-white light.

Ten swords total floated in a circle around him.

Lucian gestured once, and the swords blasted forward.

They cut, chopped, slashed, and pierced through roots. Each blade moved independently but in perfect coordination with the others. They wove patterns through the air that were beautiful, deadly, and efficient.

Anything the blades touched dispersed immediately. Not cut but dispersed, simply ceased existing at the point of contact, turned to nothing as if they'd never been.

The roots trembled. Then they began regrowing instantly, wood knitting together with desperate speed. But even as they healed, they also attacked with massive tendrils that lashed out at Lucian from multiple angles, trying to overwhelm him through sheer mass.

Lucian created two more swords in his hands, one was pure black and the other pure white. Both blades bore the same symbol on their hilts, with both shining before he began moving. He chopped through a root aimed at his head before slashing horizontally to his right, and severing three more mid-strike.

Then he swept his white blade in an arc, creating a barrier of dispersing force. And then hacked downward, destroying a root trying to emerge beneath him.

Every movement flowed into the next as he wasted no motion and began cutting, slashing, and tearing through the attacks aimed at him.

More roots attacked from above, but the ten floating swords moved to intercept, cutting them down before they could reach their master.

The dispersal effect spread as the roots turned to nothing upon contact, unable to regenerate what had been completely erased.

Spores began drifting through the area.

Yellow clouds spread on invisible currents, seeking to paralyze or poison, and they approached Lucian's position from all sides.

Lucian's voice emerged calm, certain: "Wrong."

The ten swords rushed out with the symbol on the hilt changing into a yellow spores symbol. Then once the sword hit the spores, they began to fade away. One moment, the spores filled the air, and then they were gone.

Lucian continued his assault, focusing on drawing the forest's attention from the central position. The ten swords orbited him in defensive patterns while his personal blades carved through anything that approached. More roots emerged from underground while Chimeras appeared from the tree line.

Lucian activated his Beast Sigil.

Wisdom of Ten Eyes Crow.

Instantly, distractions vanished, and useless thoughts cut away cleanly. His mind became a pure analytical engine, processing movement patterns of every attack around him. He saw trajectories before roots completed their strikes.

Understood Chimera attack patterns from their initial positioning, and calculated optimal response paths through the chaos.

A Chimera lunged.

Lucian stepped left exactly three inches, slightly evading it, and his black blade swept through the creature's midsection.

The Chimera dispersed, turned to nothing.

Before then, more roots attacked in coordinated waves. Lucian's floating swords responded, each one rushing out towards the optimal targets.

Ten simultaneous dispersals created gaps in the assault.

Then Lucian activated his second Beast Sigil.

Sage Eye Fox.

Lucian's thoughts exploded exponentially. One became ten, then it became a hundred, then it became a thousand, then it became a million, and then it became a trillion. His consciousness expanded beyond normal limitations, processing information at impossible speeds.

In that infinite instant, he analyzed everything and peered through parallel possibilities. He saw himself dodging left, but it was too slow, the secondary tendril would catch his ankle. Blocking with his sword, but the impact would throw him off-balance for the next attack. Each choice rippled outward, consequences materializing with perfect clarity. Every potential action branched into observable futures, each one calculated to infinite precision.

He wasn't seeing the future, but was calculating it so thoroughly, with such overwhelming power, that the difference became meaningless.

Lucian chose his path, the one with maximum benefit and minimum consequence. His body moved, executing the calculated optimal response.

He stepped forward three paces while both blades swept in a crossing pattern. The ten floating swords were repositioned, creating a new defensive perimeter. Roots that would have struck him moments later hit empty air instead.

Then he raised both swords skyward.

Lord Blade.

The Saint Lucian figure began glowing brighter with the impossible black-white radiance intensifying. Swords began manifesting around him, not ten this time or a dozen, but instead two hundred and fifty swords appeared.

Each of their hilts displays the symbols of roots, spores, Chemiras, and Phantasm beasts.

The swords swirled around him in spiraling patterns, creating a tornado of blades. Each one gave off a beautiful and terrifying light that illuminated the area.

Lucian gestured once in a simple motion.

The swords rained down.

They fell like deadly precipitation, covering a massive area. Each blade found a target, the roots, Chimeras, controlled Phantasm Beasts, and where swords struck, enemies dispersed completely.

Wood turned to nothing, and flesh ceased existing, the assault erased everything in a hundred-foot radius.

But more kept coming.

The forest's response intensified with roots emerging faster than they were destroyed. Crimson Night Terrors appeared, similar to the ones attacking Vlad, but here they moved with different patterns.

Some attempted flanking maneuvers while others charged directly.

Lucian's trillion thoughts calculated responses while his Wisdom of Ten Eyes Crow cut away distraction. He moved through the battle with every step planned and every strike producing the best result.

His black blade swept left, dispersing three crimson Night Terrors simultaneously. His white blade thrust forward, erasing a massive root aiming for his back. The floating swords continued their orbital defense, intercepting attacks before they reached him.

A particularly large Chimera emerged, a fusion of multiple Phantasm Beast types, controlled by the forest's will.

It charged with devastating speed.

Lucian's calculations showed him the optimal response. He stepped right, angling his body, and as the Chimera passed where he'd stood a moment before. Both his blades swept horizontally in perfect synchronization and shattered the Chimera.

In his mind, golden words glowed. Saint Lucian thought toward them. Central position engaged, and the Forest is responding with full force. Attention secured.

From the north, Vlad's voice: Confirmed. Northern assault continuing.

From the south, Brunhilde's calm response: Southern position reached and will now begin.

Lucian hummed in happiness, as the forest was dividing its attention exactly as planned. Now the team heading to the center would have their path cleared.

He summoned more swords, each one marked with his judgment.

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