A Battle of Concepts

## A Place I Remember

There was a gentle breeze that carried the aromas of alcohol and meat throughout the small village. As most villages of the Forsaken Realms, there were vast expanses of farmland that, for some reason, often grew rather inexpensive plants such as corn, beans and tatoes. Perhaps the seeds were the least expensive of all the potential crops, allowing them to grow larger quantities of food; not to sell, but to eat. Winters in the Forsaken Realms were often cold and harsh, unlike the seasons of the capital. Though, that was because of the dedicated mages and nobles who maintained a form of climate control via their powerful magic spells and barriers. The commoners of the Forsaken realms hardly held enough magic power to harvest their lands, meaning there were few opportunities for them to utilize their magic power for something as trivial as climate control.

Still, Bradley had gotten accustomed to the luxuries of the Royal Capital a little too much. It was almost as if he had forgotten about the lack of such comforts. Though, this is what he had grown up in. But it had been so long since he had the opportunity to return home. Despite being a Senior-Magic Knight who commanded respect from his subordinates, he always felt that as a commoner, he could never overcome the stigma that surrounded them. Thus, he worked harder than anyone else. When his peers would take weekends to recuperate their strength and celebrate their victories, Bradley devoted himself to other missions. So that he could provide for them: his people.

As he walked around the village, he noticed the improved facilities. The church that was once decimated and worn from conflict against the elements was decorated with colorful windows and ornaments. The brick was a deep red as if it had been stained by the blood of those who constructed it. The steeple had been repaired and furnished by a statue of Maria; a woman who has been celebrated as a savior for the villagers here. It wasn’t long ago that she left her job as a Magic Knight to travel to this remote village, out of the sheer kindness of her heart. Though she hardly talked about where she came from, it was clear to everyone by her etiquette and dress that she wasn’t a noble by birth.

Bradley stared at the statue of Maria, before a voice behind him kindly interrupted.

“Your mother was something good, you know.” The voice was raspy and dry like overly fermented wine. However, for Bradley there was comfort in this voice.

“Thank you, Mr. Smith, but you don’t need to comfort me. I’ve already made my peace,” Bradley responded casually.

“You don’t need to be so appropriate with me, boy. I’m not one of them nobles, you hear?”
Bradley couldn’t help but chuckle at Mr. Smith’s statement. “Don’t tell me you think I’m getting too fancy for you now.”

“There he goes. Bradley Beal! Magic Knight! Senior now right?”

Bradley turned around to face Mr. Smith who approached from behind him. Though Bradley was at least a foot taller, Mr. Smith’s presence was somehow always bigger than his own. He had what everyone referred to as a big personality. He was the joy of the town and would often dedicate himself to ensuring that every woman, child and man had whatever they needed. He was one of the few who had gotten lucky and had hit the jackpot in some lottery one time in one of those cities near the Royal Capital. He had used his money to come back home and buy the good land to the east of the village; land that was more suited to growing grapes and fruits instead of beans and tatoes.

Still, Mr. Smith wasn’t extremely wealthy by any means. He was wealthy enough to help some people here, but not everyone. Which is why he appreciated Bradley more than anyone else did, because Bradley made him seem richer than he was.

Bradley shook his hand and smiled. “Yeah, I got a pay raise too. So, I’m going to be sending some more money your way next month.”

Mr. Smith nodded. “Come have a drink with me, Bradley.”

“Sorry, can’t do Mr. Smith. I have a mission to report on,” he answered. “The only reason I even came back was for her funeral and everything. There’s no job that would have ever taken me away from that.”

Mr. Smith looked down at the ground.

“But I guess I could have one or two drinks.”

Located on the opposite side of the village was an unimpressive building composed of stone and mortar that served as the town's only tavern. The establishment, barely being held up by a few stray beams of wood, already looked to be on its last legs. Nevertheless, the place was filled to the brim with patrons, some of which were even willing to stand outside just to mingle with one another. The air was filled with laughter and singing as the sounds of comradery chimed through the street.

And then Key showed up.

Key Underwood, a Senior Magic Knight from the Violet Orca squad and heir to the noble House Underwood, was approaching the village's sole tavern. His heavy, black boots kicked up dirt as he traversed the dusty village. While he walked, his long cape trailed behind him, slowly but surely collecting residual dirt. That'd be the first thing he would wash as soon as he got out of this wretched place. But first, he was going to teach some peasants a lesson.

On his way to the tavern, Key's bright purple eyes lazily glared over the pathetic display the local peasants tried to pass as a village. He gazed at everything with disgust, as if everything he saw was covered in filth. He saw homes that looked just as raggedy as the old tavern, and he saw the kind of people that looked like they'd inhabit them. Key sneered as he watched a small boy practice a water spell with an even smaller girl. Neither of the little cretins looked as if they'd combed their hair in months. The sight almost made Key gag.

*How can they live with themselves?* he thought to himself. His left eye started rapidly twitching. When it did, the jagged pattern of his lightning-shaped scar quivered above his cheek. *To be so unloved by mana and fate. And to exist as filth, day in and day out. It's disgusting*. The Magic Knight finally made it to the tavern, carelessly pushing past a small gathering of people near the door. Someone tried to object, but Key obviously paid them no mind. He swung open the tavern's rinky-dink wooden door and looked inside. Instantly, the entire place fell silent.

*Let me purge you of your filth*, he thought.

The inside of the tavern was just as shabby as the outside. Wooden rafters hung too close to the ground. Large chunks of the stone walls were missing, letting in lots of natural light. Out of the corner of his eye, Key caught a glimpse of a bird's nest hanging over some moldy barrels. His footsteps echoed against the wooden floor, and the tension thickened as everyone's eyes fell on the heir of the notoriously strange House Underwood. Despite the sudden mood change throughout the establishment, the bartender seemed to uphold his chipper mood upon Key's entrance. "Well, hello there, stranger," the old man wheezed behind the bar. His hands were raised to his sides, magically hovering a glass over one hand and a dishcloth over the other. Under his thick unibrow, the old man eyed Key's Violet Orca vest, and gave him a smile. "What can I do for you, Mr. Magic Knight?" he asked kindly.

"How *dare* you address me, peasant!" Key snapped, raising his right hand at the bartender. Without provocation, the volatile mage shot a magic bullet at the bartender. The purple bullet struck the elderly bartender in his chest and sent him flying into the bottles behind him, breaking a majority of them. A desperate, melancholy cry escaped from the old man's mouth before he hit the ground and keeled over. Some of the patrons gasped, a couple of them rushed to check on the bartender. A few of the men stood up from their seats and clenched their fists, trying to put up a front against the nobleman Magic Knight.

Pathetic. Peasants could never hope to scare a noble. "Filthy creatures unloved by mana. I command you to be purged!" Key shrieked in his shrill, piercing voice. On his command, his purple grimoire snapped into action, floated in front of him, and flipping its glowing pages to the correct incantation. Since his fight with that four-leaf grimoire bastard from the Azure Deer squad, Key had learned a few new spells. His latest one, he believed, truly showcased his true destructive potential.

A couple of men tried to react, but it was too late. Key, with his hands arrogantly placed in his nicely-sewn pockets, recited the name of his newest spell. "*Ash Magic: Dīs Orcus!*" Suddenly, the floorboards were starting to get torn off their hinges. Tables and chairs started shooting upwards, destroying other pieces of furniture in the process. People were unexpectedly pelted in the backsides with speedy projectiles. At first, the purple jets of ash were rising up at an unpredictable rate, then they quickly started gaining speed until the entire room was filled with a barrage of ash spikes firing up from the ground. The laughter and singing that once filled the air were replaced with an orchestra of screams and destruction.

Then, dust and dirt crunched beneath Key's heavy, black boots once again as he emerged from the debris cackling. All that remained of the tattered tavern was rubble, and all that was left of its patrons were mangled remains. The lucky few that were fortunate enough to be standing far enough from the structure's collapse would live to tell the tale, which dissatisfied Key. If he had his way, a peasant would never utter a word about him with their vile mouth. Nonetheless, he got what he came for: practice with his new spell and a fast purging of filthy peasants. Now he could return to the base and get ready for his next mission.

When he finished laughing, Key wiped down his fancy, white shirt. His hands glided across the gold buttons that lined his radiant shirt. After he was done dusting himself off, he looked around for any witnesses, spotting two incoming men from the east.

Though Bradley and Mr. Smith had suspected nothing as they approached the tavern due to the ash that emanated from Key’s magic. It created a mist that masqueraded the rubble from afar, but as they approached. For a moment, Bradley and Mr. Smith had thought that the smell of ash in the air was just the collection of fumes from cigarettes and pipes. Afterall, it was the weekend. However, as Bradley approached, his senses tuned in to a magic signature that he hadn’t recognized. Granted, he had been gone for quite some time. But still, this was somehow different. It was larger, more refined, as if the person was a Magic Knight like himself.

Mr. Smith squinted. “Ay, I think-“

Bradley’s arm interrupted him as he threw it out in front of Mr. Smith’s body like a protective mother. “Wait here, Mr. Smith.”

He approached cautiously, squinting and peeking until the gentle breeze removed what dust of rubble and ash remained, revealing Key standing there triumphantly. The moans and bodies of the injured and deceased littered the earth around the fallen tavern, nearly prompting Bradley into action. However, he had to stay calm. If he allowed his magic power to flare, it was possible that he could reveal all of his tricks.

Bradley stopped as he drew closer and simply glared in Key’s direction.

“Hey! What happened here?” he called out, pointing to the mess around Key. “There are so many people hurt.”

*Twitch twitch.* Key's scar began to quiver again as the larger, red-bearded mage got closer to him. Key could tell by the man's attire that he was a Magic Knight belonging to the Crimson Lion squad. He proudly donned the squad's colors, but Key saw passed his get-up. Upon quick inspection, Key could tell the burly mage before him was of lower status. He had taken the time to familiarize himself with all the noble families in the Clover Kingdom, and this man didn't belong to one of them. If he were wearing any jewelry, perhaps he could've passed as a Vermillion, but his Magic Knights robe seemed to be the most stylish piece of clothing on his strapping figure. The rest of his clothes, while not shabby, did not exude the level of elegance that was expected of the higher class.

*I'll bet this is his home village*, Key thought, eyeing Bradley up and down. He couldn't stop himself from giggling.

"*People*?" Key repeated mockingly. "The only people I see here are myself," he said, flicking his wrist to point his hand at his face. He used his other hand to motion to Bradley. "And the half of you that exists as a Magic Knight," he said. "As for the other half of you, it disgusts me," he smiled, expressing his distaste for peasants and the like. "Perhaps I should just get rid of you altogether."

In a despicable display, Key raised his hand at his fellow Magic Knight, which caused his grimoire to unsheathe itself from his waist. The purple grimoire glowed once more, flipping its pages in front of its psychotic owner. Once it arrived on the right page, Key called out the name of his new spell again. "*Ash Magic: Dīs Orcus!*"

Like before, purple jets of ash began randomly shooting up from the ground around Bradley. Not long after the first few jets of ash rose, they began darting up at virtually undodgeable speed until hundreds of pillars of ash were quickly coming from the ground to strike Bradley at every lower angle.

## Fight Knight

There was no hesitation between Key’s conviction and his actions, yet the time that it took his grimoire to flip pages blessed Bradley with enough notice for him to prepare for his assault. His spell sprouted from the earth, ripping through the cement like a knife through hot butter. As a man of immense magic power, it did not surprise Bradley that he was capable of full scaled assaults such as this; assaults that could leave the world decimated as if a wrathful disaster was the cause. Bradley could feel the earthquake at the behest of his spell, and out of pure instinct he leaped off the ground just as Key’s spell erupted around him.

Still, midair now, the ashes surged towards him with remarkable pace, and his immobility made it difficult for him to do much except watch as they homed onto him. But the space that he had created for himself, no matter how little, provided him opportunity to flip through his own grimoire. It began to glow as Bradley took hold of the power within himself, transforming his mana into its form as he uttered the incantation, “Food Magic: Glutton’s Banquet!!”
From his grimoire materialized an enormous lion, bearing its fangs and claws around itself. It plummeted towards the earth and towards Key’s own magic. The lion opened its mouth, and like gravity, the spell was warped into the throat of the beast and consumed as if it was nothing but a meal. The beast landed onto the cracked earth, creating fissures from the sheer mass of its size. Bradley followed, plopping himself on top of the lion’s head.

“If you know I’m a magic knight, then why are you attacking me?!” Bradley inquired; a hint of anger laced within his tone. “And why are you attacking this town if you’re a magic knight too, huh?! You’re supposed to protect Clover and all of its inhabitants, which includes the commoners like the ones you just hurt.”

Bradley’s magic power began to flare around his body into an aura of pressure and energy, for his body worked to combine the magic he had just absorbed within his own reserves. He put his hand out towards Key and faced his palm towards him. The lion’s mouth opened, and within, a distant light could be seen charging as the magical power collected in the belly of the beast. Bradley’s next attack was obvious; a beam of pure mana.

“I’ll give you one opportunity to leave this place before. This is your last warning.”

But Key didn't listen. Instead, his grin just continued to split his face into a malicious expression. Admittedly, the peasant Knight handled Key's newest spell with ease. He figured he'd have to match the size of Bradley's lion spell if he stood a chance against his charged attack. The purple grimoire sprung back to life, flipping its thin pages in a hurry. With his right arm raised towards Bradley and his lion, Key called out the name of a spell he was more familiar with. "*Ash Creation Magic: Hell's Guardian!*"

Suddenly, streams of purple ash magic began pouring out of Key's floating grimoire. The ashes overcame a large portion of space directly next to Key, then quickly started collecting itself and changing shape. Key let out a loud, sinister cackle as his spell took form. When it was done stirring, the mass of ash scaled higher than any of the village's shabby buildings. Key watched, beaming at his creation, as the ashes formed into a towering, purple beast. The three-headed hellhound gnashed its several, large fangs and let out a deafening roar that shook the general vicinity. With the snap of his neck, Key glared back at his opponent with wild eyes, waiting for the lion to fire its beam.

Bradley shook his head side to side in disappointment. Despite his track record for completing missions against rival kingdoms, which often resulted in the deaths of other mages from other nations, Bradley was deeply bothered by the murder of his own. Perhaps it was his mother’s influence; a woman who sought to preserve the lives of all men so much that she abandoned the Magic Knights and thereby discarded her opportunity to become a noble herself.

Bradley remembered the stories his father would tell about his mother’s past which was his only lens into her history. She never talked much about her time in the Magic Knights or her own family. Whenever he asked about it, she would pat him on the head gently and repeat what she always said: “You and your father are my family.” But, that’s not what he meant. Who was her mother? Who was her father? Why was she born with so much magic power, and what was the cause?

The only person who seemed to know his father, but he swore himself to secrecy long ago.
Maybe that was why Bradley desired so much to be like Maria. Perhaps by embodying her philosophies and way of life, he could somehow find a way to peer into her life; to convince her to tell him about her past. It hadn’t work. She died before she could. But he had already been molded in her image, and he cared for everyone. Which is why he had to confront Key here, even if it meant killing him.

“Food Magic: Magic Cannon!”

The lion unleashed a deafening roar which emitted a powerful beam of magical power that rocketed towards Key and his own construct like a beam of light. As it surged through the atmosphere, the fissures expanded from the pressure, releasing fumes of steam as they receded further and further towards the mantle of the planet.

Mr. Smith, who had been positioned further way found himself fighting against the turbulent winds generated by the force of Bradley’s assault, and was forced to take cover behind a nearby building. He sat there helpless, watching as a battle between two titans was set to commence.

The lion's beam ripped through the air, heading directly towards Key and his own giant construct. The crazy mage donned a beaming smile as brilliant as the spell aimed at him. His wicked grin didn't falter for a second, even as he stood staring death in the face; and as the bright beam came hurtling towards him, he could physically feel the powerful presence of his opponent's strong mana. It was a strength that even Key had to acknowledge at that moment.

Perhaps this peasant could give a noble a run for his money.

Seconds before impact, Key could hear his father's croaked voice in his head. "Listen to me, ungrateful bastard," he said. Chronoki Underwood's voice cracked in Key's mind very clearly. "If I ever catch you socializing with a peasant again, I'll kill you," he threatened.

The eccentric head of the family was known to be almost as strange as his only son. Throughout the kingdom, the House Underwood was known to have an especially infamous reputation, of which Chronoki was primarily responsible. For the most part, the other noble families did their best not to associate with them, and were generally unenthused to hear that they would be in the presence of an Underwood. This was because of their reputed desire for power and mistreatment of lower class mages, which was strictly enforced by the head of the house.

When Key was just a child, before he even received his grimoire, he met a peasant girl named Pina. Before his father's influence reached him, and before he would find the mana-sapping Circlet of Invisibility that would slowly initiate his descent into partial insanity, Key knew nothing of his family's prejudice. He knew nothing of the disparities that existed between nobles and peasants, and didn't view lower-class citizens the way other nobles did. Through his innocent eyes, every mage was the same.

One day, Key met a peasant girl who had run away from her small hometown in the Forsaken Region to get away from an impoverished life. The young girl's name was named Pina and Key, quite frankly, was infatuated with her. They talked for a while, then showed each other their magic. At first, Pina was reluctant of Key's ash magic and Key clearly wasn't used to seeing such small, weak displays of magic. Over time, however, the two children finally came to be close friends and spent almost every day together. Unknowing of his father's prejudice, Key eventually told his parents about his new friend. When asked what noble family the girl was from, Key answered honestly, prompting a violent outburst from his father. He demanded that Key take him to her immediately while his mother frantically spouted lines about the possibility of her son being contaminated by a peasant girl.

Key and the head of House Underwood showed up at the spot where the two children routinely met. When they arrived, Chronoki wasted no time using his curse magic to kill his son's friend right in front of him. Key stared, horrified, as Pina's lifeless face gazed back at him. Because she was a peasant that had run away from her family, no one would miss Pina. It was unlikely that anyone ever noticed that she died. She had nobody and no one loved her. No one but Key.

When the deed was done, Key's father looked at his son with a threatening glare. "Listen to me, ungrateful bastard," he said. "If I ever catch you socializing with a peasant again, I'll kill you."

Now Key was older. Less naive. He knew better than to socialize with scum, and he sure as hell wasn't going down to one of their kind. With a flick of his wrists, the pages of his grimoire flipped until they reached one of his strongest attack spells. Key shrieked over the roar of the approaching lion's beam and aimed his arms directly at it.

"*Ash Magic: Twelfth Labor!*" he cried.

On his mark, his three-headed summon opened all of its mouths and let out a howl directed at the lion. Three separate rays of concentrated ash magic fired from the beast's mouths before promptly forming one giant, purple laser of ash. Once the spell was complete, everyone in the village was able to witness the true and immense power that a nobleman Magic Knight possessed. When the two opposing spells met, the glaring force was almost too much for the environment to handle. The wind created by the blasts blew remnants of the tavern to the side and was enough to affect some of the surrounding settlements as well.

Key's crazy black-and-white hair blew wildly behind the force of the clashing spells - as did his cape, and his Violet Orca vest. Keeping his arms raised against Bradley was a struggle, as if he was pushing against an unmovable wall, but it was necessary if he was going to win against him. He would just have to hope that his supercharged blast was of a higher caliber than his opponent's and that his superior mana would come out on top.

The feet of his beast began to slowly slide backward as the force of Key’s magic began to match, if not overwhelm his own. It was a power akin to a raging typhoon, yet there was a refine in his magic; an elegance befitting nobility. However, Key wasn’t the first noble that Bradley had faced before, and he surely wouldn’t be the last. After all, it were nobles who Bradley forced himself to battle against, suffering humiliating defeat after defeat to strengthen his resolve and his magic. It was they who unknowingly helped build him into the Magic Knight that he was today.

“AHHHHHHHHHH!!!!” Bradley bellowed, his voice echoing through the clashing of magic as he took hold of the power deep within him. Fortunately for Bradley, the original spell was cast using the magic power that Key had supplied him, but for him to truly win, he found it necessary to devote himself entirely to his attack. Such was the strength of a noble. They were born gifted. They were born special and talented. It was a power he admired so much. A power so reminiscent of his mother’s own. But he had to work hard for his. For him, it was always a struggle, even now. Which is why, in the face of adversity, he wouldn’t quit. Not until he took his last breath.

As if he caught a second wind, the beam’s size intensified, nearly doubling in size and width as Bradley’s mana finally began to pour into his attack.

“I WON’T LET YOU HURT THESE PEOPLE!!” He chanted, his voice strained and thick like his magic. The winds responded to the force of their clash, spinning into miniature cyclones around their titanic beast, making it so that none could enter their domain. Almost as if, it was a clash between two gods.

The winds grew more intense around the Magic Knights, lashing at nearby properties and tearing up pieces of the street. The battle between gods raged on as the beams grew larger in size. Key had no problem offering more of his magical power towards his attack in an attempt to break the stalemate, but his opposition didn't seem to be budging. Despite the fact that Key should have had stronger mana as a noble, his status mattered very little at that moment. Right then, he and Bradley were on equal terms, no matter how much mana he poured into his attack.

Key couldn't respond to Bradley's valiant cry. He had to focus on maintaining his purple beam, as indicated by the strained look on his face. After about a minute, beads of sweat started to drip from Key's face. The raw power created by the colliding mana was starting to be too much for Key as well. There was no way a lowly peasant could possess this much magical talent. It was just impossible. For a moment, Key wondered if his opponent could've been of royal or noble descent after all. That could've been the only explanation, because Key refused to believe that a peasant - even if he was a Magic Knight - was actually keeping up with him.

No matter how much mana Key siphoned out of the hellhound's mouths, Bradley seemed to be able to keep up. Since neither could overpower the other, the conflicting streams of mana violently blew up in the center of the magic collision. The raging gales had destroyed the area enough, but the explosion took it to a different level. Most of the area was completely obliterated by the explosion the Magic Knights created. Key was naturally thrown off his balance and was sent flying back a few feet. As he flew backwards, he lost the concentration required to keep his hellhound summoned, so it immediately disappeared into wisps of ash magic. He landed hard on his back, though his cape somewhat cushioned his fall. Hopefully, his opponent - that lousy, red-haired peasant - had met a worse fate.

Bradley went tumbling across the barren hearth like a skidded pebble, but after rolling back for what seemed to be an eternity, he managed to grab a rock protruding from the earth to stop himself. He lifted his head up, dust riddling his clothes, to see Key on the other side, and with both if their magics dispersed. Blood dripped down the left side of his face and his hands were bruised and cut from his encounter with the earth. What foolishness. To maintain his attack, he was forced to let go of his mana skin; rather, his concentration didn’t allow him to scream and maintain his mana skin at the time. All because of some emotion?

He forced himself up onto his feet and faced Key. His breaths were heavy as his body attempted to recover from the strain of the past few minutes.

“Your power is amazing!” Bradley called out across the battlefield. “So why? Why are you using it to harm people who can’t defend themselves?”

He opened the palm of his hand as his grimoire began glowing rapidly, summoning forth what appeared to be a can of…. spinach?! Bradley lifted the container over his mouth and squeezed the aluminum, releasing the spinach into his mouth and into his stomach. There was a slight pause as his magic acted in his body. His muscle mass expanded profusely, and the mana skin around his body exploded into what appeared to be an aura of pure power.

“Reinforcement Magic: Strong Man!”

He clenched his fist and lowered his stance, pivoting his right foot behind his left as he prepared to charge towards Key.

As the hulking man ran towards him, Key could feel the ground tremble beneath him. Sticks and stones shook near his arms while he watched with wide eyes as Bradley rushed at him. He'd never seen such an impractical use of magic before, but of course a peasant would make use of such a technique.

Bradley approached Key like a radiating, red-hot locomotive. Before the Crimson Lion could get too close to the Violet Orca Magic Knight, Key got up from the ground, followed by his grimoire. As he stood up, brushing off his lavish attire, he cursed his opponent for dragging a noble down to the same level as him - to make Key as filthy as he was.

"I already told you that I don't consider you 'people'," he spat, attempting to catch his breath between heavy sighs. A stream of purple ash spilled out of his grimoire and flowed into his open hand. Then, once his palm was filled with ashes, they abruptly transfigured into a black rod with a radiant, purple jewel that decorated its tip. The ground shook and shook while Bradley approached. With him charging at Key in a straight line, the ash mage had a very clear target. Key raised his scepter at the raging, red Crimson Lion. Concentrating his mana in the scepter's jewel, he aimed it at Bradley and sent another beam at him, similar to the one created by his hellhound, though it wasn't as huge.

"*Ash Creation Magic: Pluto’s Shining Scepter!*" he shrieked. With his latest attack creating another powerful blast of energy, Key's hair and outfit were blown back once more. As the scepter's long beam fired towards Bradley, inching closer towards the raging Magic Knight, Key shot him another curled smile as well. There was no way Bradley's pathetic Reinforcement technique was going to match against Key's refined ash magic. It was too close for Bradley dodge it and it was too late for him to try and fire off another spell to counter it. All he could do now was take the blast head-on. This was it.