Treatise Of A Failed Knight-Chapter 262: More

"Hm...?"

Enrydral’s multiple eyes suddenly shift focus.

Past me.

Toward the region where Tyrrion hides.

"The dwarf," he growls, his voice thick with obsession. "I can sense him..."

He charges—not at me, but around me.

His massive form crashes through the clearing, each footfall creating craters in the earth. I react instantly, Tracing to intercept his path.

I materialize directly in front of him, Serpent raised.

But Enrydral doesn’t slow.

One of his six arms swats me aside like an insect. I’m launched through the air, crashing through a rocky outcropping.

Pain explodes across my ribs, but I force myself to stand.

He’s already past me, barreling toward Tyrrion’s hiding place with single-minded determination.

"TYRRION!" he roars. "COME OUT AND FACE YOUR RECKONING!"

I Trace again, appearing between the monster and the dwarf. This time I don’t try to block him physically. Instead, I slash at his legs, Serpent biting deep into the muscle and sinew.

The blade drinks greedily, stealing more characteristics.

Enrydral stumbles but doesn’t fall. His body convulses, the wound triggering another evolution. His legs thicken, becoming even more massive, covered in overlapping plates of bone armor. He grows another foot taller, his mass expanding to accommodate the new adaptations.

He’s at least thirty feet tall now, a walking nightmare of fused Magivore traits.

"Insignificant!" he snarls, swinging at me with three arms simultaneously.

I weave between the strikes, Tracing when necessary to avoid the blows I can’t dodge. Each movement is calculated, precise, buying time while my mind races through the implications of what he revealed.

’Jeophrey’s archives. Kamal’s Potion method.’

I know both of those.

I had Jeophrey was research and create the base recipe for my Serpent Armament fusion. 𝚏𝕣𝐞𝗲𝐰𝕖𝐛𝐧𝕠𝕧𝚎𝚕.𝐜𝚘𝗺

As for Kamal and his Potion Method, he had been developing an alchemical process for permanent body enhancement.

The combination would create exactly what Enrydral has become: a fusion of characteristics that permanently alters the host body.

But there’s a problem with that approach.

A fatal flaw that Jeophrey never solved before his death.

I just need to keep him evolving.

"You cannot protect him forever!" Enrydral lunges again, ignoring my presence entirely. His focus is absolute, singular, consumed by his hatred for Tyrrion.

I slash at his back, opening wounds that immediately begin to close and transform.

New spines erupt from his shoulder blades. His arms multiply again—eight now, each ending in different weapons stolen from the creatures he’s absorbed.

He’s becoming more monstrous by the second, but he’s also becoming more obsessed.

"TYRRION!" His voice cracks with madness. "I WILL END YOU! I WILL ERASE YOU FROM EXISTENCE!"

He swipes at the rubble where Tyrrion hides, massive claws tearing through stone like paper.

I Trace to Tyrrion’s location, grabbing the dwarf and leaping away to safety.

It’s a shame I can’t teleport myself and others using Tracing. It would have been a lot more convenient.

Enrydral’s attack finds only empty space.

"NO!" He spins, multiple eyes scanning until they lock onto our new position. "GIVE HIM TO ME!"

Another charge.

Another desperate interception.

I plant myself in his path, Serpent ready. This time I aim for his center mass, driving the blade deep into what might be his heart—or one of them, given how distorted his anatomy has become.

Serpent drinks deeply, stealing enhanced regeneration, armored hide, crushing strength.

Enrydral roars and grabs me with four of his hands, lifting me off the ground.

His grip tightens, bones creaking under the pressure.

Then he throws me.

I sail through the air, using Tracing mid-flight to arrest my momentum. I materialize on the ground, already moving to intercept his next attack on Tyrrion.

"Your efforts are futile!" Enrydral bellows, his massive form bearing down on us. "Each wound makes me better! I want more... I need MORE!"

He slams into me with the force of an avalanche.

Multiple arms pummel me from all directions.

Claws tear at my armor.

Bone blades slice through my defenses.

I fight back desperately, Serpent finding gaps in his defenses, drinking more and more of his essence.

And he keeps evolving.

Forty-five feet tall now.

Ten arms.

His body has become a grotesque amalgamation of every creature he’s fought.

Razorback armor. Serpentine flexibility. Insectoid mandibles. Avian talons. Mammalian fangs.

He’s ugly beyond description, a monument to uncontrolled adaptation.

"See?!" he roars triumphantly. "I am beyond you! I am beyond everything! Soon I will be beyond—"

His words cut off abruptly.

His body spasms.

Not the controlled convulsions of evolution.

Something is different this time.

Something is wrong.

One of his arms begins to twitch uncontrollably. The flesh ripples, as if different characteristics are fighting for dominance within the same limb.

"What—?" Enrydral stares at the rebellious arm.

Another spasm, this time across his torso.

Scales clash against armor plates. Bone spikes erupt and then retract randomly. His height fluctuates, growing and shrinking by inches as his skeletal structure can’t decide on a configuration.

I step back, understanding dawning.

’It’s happening. The flaw Jeophrey could never solve.’

Serpent temporarily absorbs characteristics, yes. But it also releases them when it reaches capacity. The blade cycles through stolen traits, never holding too many at once.

Enrydral’s transformation is permanent.

Every characteristic he’s absorbed has become a fundamental part of his being. And unlike a carefully designed Armament, his body has limits.

Limits he’s exceeded.

"No..." Enrydral’s voice wavers. "No, this isn’t—I’m not—"

His body begins to collapse inward.

Not physically falling, but imploding on itself.

Too many characteristics trying to occupy the same space. Too many contradictory adaptations fighting for expression. His existence has become bloated, unstable, unable to maintain coherence.

This leads to only one outcome.

—Existential Collapse.

"NO!" He stumbles, multiple legs failing to coordinate. "I WAS SUPPOSED TO BE PERFECT! I WAS SUPPOSED TO—"

Reality seems to reject him.

His form flickers, destabilizing at the most fundamental level.

And then, with sudden clarity burning through the madness in his eyes, Enrydral makes a choice.

"If I cannot have the glory..." he snarls, turning away from Tyrrion and me. "If I cannot claim credit for the Great Bridgeworks..."

He begins to run—as much as his failing body can manage.

Not toward us.

Toward the construction sites in the distance.

"...THEN NO ONE WILL!"

I understand immediately. He’s going to destroy it. The bridges, the roads, and the unresolved the sky lanterns—everything Tyrrion has built.

If Enrydral can’t steal the legacy, he’ll erase it entirely.

"No way," I whisper, breaking into a sprint.

I Trace forward, appearing directly in his path. Serpent cuts at his legs, trying to slow him.

He tramples over me, too massive to be stopped by a single person. I Trace again, appearing on his back, driving Serpent between his shoulder blades.

He barely notices.

His body continues its collapse even as he runs. Arms fall off, dissolving into formless matter. His height decreases as his skeletal structure can’t maintain its expanded form.

Chunks of armor slough away, revealing raw flesh underneath.

But he keeps moving, driven by pure spite.

I can see the construction sites ahead. Workers scatter at the sight of the approaching monstrosity.

’Damnit! I evacuated them already, so what are they doing there?’ I grit my teeth in sheer annoyance.

The human lives are one thing.

But the Great Bridgeworks is another.

If I am to choose which is more important, my answer will be pretty obvious.

The partially completed bridges and roads represent months of labor, and so much of my time planning.

I can’t let this guy ruin it all.

BAM!

Enrydral reaches the first structure—a bridge spanning a deep ravine. He slams into the support pillars with his remaining strength, and I hear stone cracking.

"NO!"

I teleport to the pillar, bracing it with my own body, channeling every ounce of strength I have into keeping it stable.

Enrydral tries to push through me, but his body betrays him. Another arm dissolves. His legs give out, and he collapses to his knees.

At this point, he can barely muster any strength.

I see him becoming slimy and sticky

Disgusting.

"Please..." His voice, suddenly small, emerges from his distorted throat.

"Please... kill me..."

The transformation has now reversed, but not to return him to human form. Instead, his body is dissolving into an amorphous blob—a mindless mass of conflicting characteristics with no coherent shape.

"It hurts..." The blob that was Enrydral shudders. "Everything... hurts... I can’t... I can’t think... I can’t..."

His form begins to sizzle, steam rising from his dissolving flesh. The characteristics are breaking down, consuming each other in a cascade of biological failure.

"I just wanted..." His voice is barely recognizable. "I just wanted... to be... recognized... to be... more than... his shadow..."

The blob writhes, collapsing further.

His beautiful face—the face that charmed all of us—briefly reforms in the mass, twisted and agonized, before dissolving again.

"I just..." Enrydral whispers. "I... I..."

The words trail off into incoherent gurgling.

Then, finally, mercifully, the dissolution completes.

What remains is barely recognizable as having once been human. A shapeless, sizzling mass that continues to break down, steaming and hissing as it evaporates into nothing.

Enrydral Lanternmaker—the beautiful fraud, the envious disciple, the man who wanted recognition so desperately that he destroyed himself pursuing it—is gone.

His desires turned him ugly.

Made him unrecognizable, and ultimately spelled his doom.

A fitting end.

I stand over the steaming remnants, Serpent still in my hand, breathing hard.

Behind me, I hear Tyrrion’s uneven footsteps approaching.

The dwarf stares at what little remains of his disciple, his expression unreadable.

"He really did hate me," Tyrrion says quietly. "All this time, I thought..."

"I know," I say.

Silence settles over us, broken only by the final hisses of Enrydral’s dissolution.

Then, Tyrrion straightens his twisted spine as much as he’s able.

"The bridge?" he asks.

I check the pillar I was bracing. Minor cracks, but structurally sound.

"It will hold."

Tyrrion nods once, then turns away from his disciple’s remains.

"Then we have work to finish," he says, his voice steady despite everything. "The Great Bridgeworks won’t build itself."

I smile at him.

"That’s the spirit!"

Right at this moment, a thought suddenly flashes in my head and I gasp.

’H-hold on...!’ My body shudders with sheer intensity as the urge to scream fills me to the brim. ’Couldn’t I have used Existential Domination to control Enrydral’s Magivore aspect?!’

I did the same to Dreyfus of the Sixfold Helm of Darkness.

Why didn’t I think of it this time?

My memories...

’This is dangerous. My regression must have caused me to forget again. That or the time I have spent in this place.’

It is a scary thought to have, but I still feel relieved.

Why?

Because I won despite this problem.

And now... there is nothing stopping my advancement in this world any longer.

It’s almost over.

[A/N: Is there anything else you think Javier is forgetting?]