Another tendril rose from below.

This one positioned itself ahead of his flight path, creating a landing platform elevated above the tide's main surface.

The crimson-black flame compressed into a disk shape, solidifying further until it appeared almost stone-like.

Reinhard's boots struck the platform with his knees bent before launching himself forward once more. No pause, or hesitation, just continuous motion converting landing into the next leap.

His legs extended with explosive force while wings beat downward simultaneously.

The combined thrust sent him forward again with explosive speed that normal flying lacked. But with the use of the tendrils, he can blast off while using them, whipping his boot to make him go even faster.

The tide continued responding. It rose and fell in patterns anticipating his needs, creating ramps when height was required, forming platforms when landing zones were needed, wrapping around limbs to hurl him across distances too vast for jumping alone.

Reinhard surfed across the corruption. His body moved in rhythm with the tide's flow, reading its movements through a connection that bypassed conscious thought. When waves rose, he rode them.

When pillars formed, he used them as launching points, and the tendrils grasped; he allowed momentum transfer that multiplied velocity.

The wings provided constant adjustment. They beat when speed needed increasing, angled when direction required changing, and extended for stability during chaotic maneuvers.

The crimson-black forms moved independently from his conscious control, responding to unconscious intent as if they possessed their own awareness.

Trees appeared in his peripheral vision. Massive structures rising from the tide that were constructs created by Dark Silence's influence before its destruction. Their forms were twisted, unnatural, suggesting organic growth corrupted at a fundamental level.

Phantasm Beasts clung to branches as well.

Forest Roots with humanoid bodies made of wood, Werefang skulls topped by antlers. Kungala, half the size of buildings, bushes growing from pale wooden bodies. Tetan resembling armored knights formed from roots and moss.

They watched his passage with empty socket eyes or glowing white pupils. Some turned their heads, tracking his movement across the tide.

Others remained motionless, frozen in positions suggesting shock at witnessing a human traveling across corruption that should consume anything touched. None of them launched an attack and just simply observed.

Reinhard ignored them; his focus remained fixed on the destination, Old Seeker Base growing larger as the distance closed. The silver crow symbol became more distinct, with individual feathers visible in the carved design despite centuries of weathering.

Buildings appeared around the central structure. Ruins scattered across the landscape, collapsed walls, fallen roofs, architecture claimed by roots and moss. The tide flowed through them, creating channels that followed streets long buried beneath decay.

More Phantasm Beasts occupied the structures. Kabas with mushroom shells providing coverage, faces obscured by shadow. Tetans wielding wooden swords and spears, standing sentinel in windows and doorways.

All watching, all waiting, all uncertain.

The Old Seeker Base loomed directly ahead. The structure rose three stories despite partial collapse, walls showing silver crow insignia repeated across the facade.

The entrance gaped open, a gap created by fallen walls, revealing interior darkness.

Reinhard's trajectory aimed directly at the opening. The distance closed rapidly, fifty feet, thirty, twenty, before the wings beat backward, and now it was only three feet away. His boots struck the ground just inside the threshold.

Knees bent deeply, absorbing final momentum through controlled descent. His hands touched the floor, supporting his weight as forward motion tried continuing despite the legs' resistance.

He slid six feet across the interior floor. His boots scraped against stone covered in moss and debris, creating a trail through accumulated dust. The motion arrested completely, the body coming to rest in a crouched position.

Mimir remained on his shoulder throughout the entire journey, claws dug firmly into uniform, golden horns steady despite chaotic movement.

The crow's eyes tracked interior darkness, searching for threats invisible to normal vision.

The two crimson-black fists still floated at shoulder height, thumbs still extended upward in a gesture of continued encouragement.

Reinhard straightened slowly, his light blue eyes adjusted to the interior gloom, penetrating shadows that would blind normal humans.

The tide flowed past him, entering the structure through the same gap. Crimson-black flames created streams following the floor's natural slope, illuminating darkness with malevolent glow.

Somewhere ahead, deeper in the Old Seeker Base, Charles prepared his final ritual with the Star Jewel.

Reinhard began walking forward, wings folding against his back, ready for whatever confrontation awaited.

The tide responded to his intent without conscious direction, tendrils wrapping around his waist and contracting violently.

Before then, he was hurled through darkened corridors at speeds that turned stone walls into a grey blur.

Light burst upward ahead.

Not gradual illumination but explosive radiance, the beam shoots toward the sky with force, suggesting concentrated power release. The light punched through the ceiling, through collapsed upper floors, through the roof, creating a trail of brilliance visible for miles.

From the sky, the light burst out before the cages began appearing and spread outward.

Golden barriers materialized in grid patterns, appearing over buildings in an expanding wave.

Each cage is formed from intersecting lines of light, creating cells that enclose structures while allowing visibility.

The barriers spread rapidly, covering ruins, encompassing the forest, racing toward the horizon with precision.

Reinhard felt certainty settle in his chest.

More cages would appear, spreading over the entire forest, sealing Eastern Hesod so the tide wouldn't expand beyond. Charles was sacrificing his First Class power to contain the catastrophe he'd unleashed.

Well, at least that is one less worry.

The thought passed quickly as another tendril wrapped his legs. The tide contracted, flinging him forward through the final corridor. His trajectory aimed at the doorway ahead, light spilling from the opening suggesting an occupied chamber beyond.

He switched to Odin mid-flight.

Zenuken and Hjorleifa manifested in his grips, a black-blue jagged blade and a molten gold-hoarfrost blue sword, gleaming with power. His form became a streak of black-white energy as he burst into the room.

Time seemed to compress as velocity peaked, the world reducing to a single moment of approach. Then the streak turned black-blue as swords angled downward, aimed at a figure standing at the chamber's center.

Charles stood before the pedestal holding the Star Jewel, and his hand moved without apparent urgency. A black and gold sword with patterns of X covered its length appeared before Charles swiftly rose it.

Zenuken and Charles's sword met.

The collision created a shockwave that exploded outward in a perfect sphere. The stone floor cracked beneath the impact point. Walls showed cracks spreading like lightning while dust erupted from the ceiling, cascading down in grey curtains.

Charles's figure trembled, his boots scraped backward three inches before stopping. His voice emerged from behind the mask.

"As expected, you really did survive the tide."

Reinhard grinned despite a strain of matching strength vastly superior to his own. "Did you see me in the vision?"

"Not you specifically." Charles's response came without strain, as if holding back Reinhard's assault required minimal effort. "But those two blades are aiming for my neck."

Reinhard laughed in amusement despite the situation. "Since Honor isn't here, you will have to deal with my rage of being plunged into the tide."

"My friend is already dead." Charles's tone shifted slightly, something approaching sadness bleeding through. "Must you hold a grudge against him?"

Reinhard pushed harder, trying to overpower the lock. "It's the job of the leader to take the debts of their subordinate."

Charles pushed back with equal force. "What a ridiculous thing."

Instantly, both were sent skidding.

The mutual pressure is released simultaneously, rebounding force, throwing both backward. Reinhard thrust both swords into the floor, blades sinking six inches into stone, creating anchors that slowed his momentum after twenty feet of slide.

Charles skidded back only a slight distance with his boots scraping against the floor, but his stance remained perfect.

"I don't have time for this." Charles's statement emerged flat.

Reinhard chuckled, pulling swords free and standing fully. "Funny thing. Neither do I."

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