SSS Rank Sword Mage: Awakening Starts with Weakest Mana Affinity-Chapter 112: Path Of Devastation Number Forty-Six...

As Lord Zedd replied, his voice remained strained but cold. "I’m sorry, Bagu, but I don’t use emotions to judge morality. Just because you went through hell gives you no right to turn the lives of others into one."

Zedd took a step forward, the earth cracking beneath his heel. "At first, I felt pity for you. I hoped that in your wanderings, you would find peace in this new land. But you’ve proven to me that you’re just like a moth drawn to a flame. My grandfather was right all along: a tool will always function as a tool. It has no mind of its own. You are a perfect killing machine, Bagu. That is all you have ever been, and it’s all you have the capacity to be. Your obsession with power ends here!"

I wasn’t an expert, but taunting an opponent who was clearly leagues stronger seemed like a suicidal move. What the heck is Zedd thinking? I wondered. We’re all screwed now.

"I could kill you where you stand right now, little mouse," Bagu said, his voice smooth and terrifyingly calm. "Haven’t you wondered why I haven’t taken any of you seriously yet?"

Looking at the field, it was obvious. He had been holding back, almost as if he were aggressively sparring with the mages rather than trying to wipe us out. What was his real goal? Lord Zedd was acting tough, but he was still getting his ass handed to him. No one here had the strength to actually deal with a monster like this.

"I shall be the Horizon," Bagu declared, his many eyes glowing. "I will create the Third Age of Dragons. No dragon shall ever suffer again!"

"Is that so?" lord Zedd spat. "The same era where dragons hunted humans for sport? You’d rather bring back an age just as twisted as the one you claim to hate?"

Bagu smirked, spreading his massive, crystalline wings wide as if basking in his own glory. "Somebody has to be at the bottom of the food chain. If humans are the floor, then that is simply natural law."

It appeared Lord Zedd had heard enough. His eyes hardened, and a torrent of blinding white mana erupted around him, far more intense and pure than the white aura he had used before.

"Now that you’ve graciously given me enough time to gather mana, I hope I do not disappoint you," lorrd Zedd whispered, the air beginning to hum with a terrifying frequency. "A special death befitting an Horizon."

Zedd’s voice suddenly boomed, echoing across the clearing with absolute authority.

"Everyone, get back! NOW!"

Bagu remained unimpressed, though his many eyes narrowed. He let out a dry, rattling chuckle. "Yell to them. Tell them to run," he mocked, his voice booming. "Please, do not make me laugh. What else could you possibly offer to prove I haven’t wasted my time on you? You lack the hatred I wanted to see—the only thing that could truly challenge me."

He took a slow, predatory step forward. "You’ve spent your best moves. You’ve disappointed me, little Zedd. I will have to find another way to get what I want. And that time is not far off."

"Like I said," Lord Zedd countered, his voice dropping to a dangerous, razor-thin whisper, "thanks to your arrogance, you have given me enough time to release it. Another Devastation Spell."

Bagu let out a harsh, mocking cackle that shook the nearby trees. "Come now, is lying your last resort? You’re bluffing. Lie to me again, and I will ensure your death is a long, agonizing lesson."

I watched from the sidelines, my breath hitching in my chest. I had already seen the terror of a Devastation Spell today. They were the only things Bagu truly cared about—the only things that forced him to show a shred of concern. Yet here he was, convinced Zedd was tapped out. I wondered... was there even a limit to these things? What kind of power was Zedd about to pull from the void?

"Lying was never part of my character, and you know that," Lord Zedd said, his white mana beginning to hum with a high-pitched, crystalline frequency. "This is a special spell... for a ’God’ like you."

Bagu fell silent, his many eyes focusing intently on Zedd’s hands.

"It was passed down to me by your former master: High Magus Arolion Vintergaard."

"I have seen all his spells!" Bagu hissed, his tail lashing out and shattering a nearby boulder. "I never saw him with a Devastation Spell! Do not joke with me, boy!"

"He always knew the day would come when it would be needed," Zedd replied, unfazed. "And I’ve never seen a more fitting candidate than you."

Bagu’s voice turned low and venomous. "I warn you one last time: do not lie to me. If he had such a spell, he would have used it against me when I was tearing him limb from limb back then. Do not think me a fool."

"Can’t you calm down and think for two seconds?" Zedd’s smirk widened, though his face was pale from the mana strain. "He couldn’t use it because he had already passed it to me. It’s a spell you never saw, but it’s one you have certainly heard of. I’m sure of it."

The air turned suddenly, unnaturally freezing. The temperature dropped so fast my breath came out as a thick cloud of frost. Realization struck Commander Bratan like a physical blow. Even with his battered, bloodied body, it was as though he had forgotten all his pain in an instant. His face went white with pure, unadulterated terror.

"Mages! FOCUS!" Bratan screamed, his voice cracking under the strain. He began weaving layer after layer of shimmering wind barriers, his hands moving in a desperate blur. He turned and gestured frantically to the earth mages behind him. "Strengthen the ground! Anchor yourselves! DO IT NOW!"

The mages obeyed instantly, their faces pale with terror. What was a Devastation Spell really al about ? And what made this one so different?

Bagus gave a long thought holding his chin and maybe the realization settled in did he remember? As he rrplied "You can’t... how did you acquire that the only one that comes to mind would be...?" Bagu’s voice wavered, his calm facade finally shattering into raw fury. "No! I refuse to believe it!!" but yet ected by the discovery he was really that sick in the head?

As the mages braced for impact bratan yelled bck all set my lord as lord zedd was final ready to get tye job done, I saw a thin, sharp smirk on Lord Zedd’s face.

Enraged, Bagu lunged, charging forward to crush the man who dared claim he had something wordy of challenging him.

"Finally showing me why I chose you! Let me see what you have to offer!" Bagu roared, his many voices layering into a terrifying choir. "The transparent world will reject you! I shall grant you true death—you have made me proud today, little mouse! To the shadow realm with you!"

Zedd didn’t flinch. He didn’t scream. He stood with a terrifying, quiet finality that seemed to anchor the very world.

"Wind... Path of Devastation, Number Forty-Six."

He spoke, and the very laws of nature folded to his will.

"Wicked Act: Suffocation Cube."

In the distance, the sky went eerily still. Birds mid-flight suddenly folded their wings and plummeted to the earth, as though the very concept of flight had been erased from their instincts.

The manifestation was instantaneous. Six shimmering, translucent planes of compressed air flickered into existence, intersecting at perfect ninety-degree angles. The cube was massive—fifty feet on each side—forcing Bagu’s new form to hunch and coil in a grotesque display of trapped power. He was encased within a geometric prison of absolute, solidified wind pressure.

I stared, my mind racing. Was this purely wind creation? A barrier? I had no idea what a "Suffocation Cube" was, but there was no doubt Bagu felt it. For the first time, the "God" showed signs of true panic. His voice couldn’t even be heard outside the shimmering walls.

Lord Zedd stood before the structure, staring through the translucent glass-like surface. Bagu lashed out, slamming his crystalline weight against the walls with the force of a mountain-shatterer, but the barrier didn’t even ripple. It was a masterpiece of authority—a silent declaration that Zedd had already won.

Then, the true horror began. Bagu stopped thrashing. His many eyes widened in a look of primitive terror as a jagged, mocking grin spread across Zedd’s blood-streaked face.

From where I stood, I could hear Bagu’s crystalline scales begin to groan and pop. It wasn’t just a vacuum; it was as if the universe itself had forgotten how to support his weight. He gripped his own skull, his head swelling as if it were about to detonate from the inside out.

Author’s Note: Wicked Act: Suffocation Cube was a Devastation Spell created by a legendary wind mage who sought to end his own immortal life. He realized that to truly die, he needed a spell that could kill on a fourth-dimensional level. After a century of research, he created Number Forty-Six—a vacuum that exists beyond the three dimensions of man. He left it behind as a gift for any who desired the ultimate end.

"Let me show you a fragment of my own arrogance, Bagu," Zedd said, his voice slicing cleanly through the silence. "While this spell is active, only I am permitted to speak. What you are experiencing is a fourth-dimensional vacuum."

He took a measured step forward.

"You see, higher-dimensional structures can act upon lower dimensions without ever fully entering them. What you perceive is merely the third-dimensional shadow of the cube itself. The architect of this spell discovered that it was far easier to create a vacuum in the fourth dimension than in the third.only problem being how to get there in the first place"

Bagu weakened visibly, cowering as though his very life force was being unmade. I couldn’t comprehend it—was he being suffocated, or were his atoms being pulled apart by a reality that no longer recognized him?

"This is one of the most advanced wind spells in existence," Zedd said, his tone turning nostalgic, almost cold. "It isn’t something a mere mage can conceptualize. To even hold the image of this spell in your mind requires a brain that has transcended mortality. But you don’t see me going around calling myself a God, do you? ’Horizon’... don’t make me laugh, you arrogant fool."

A flicker of disappointment crossed Zedd’s eyes. "Unfortunately, this spell can only be used once."

Bagu leaned his head against the shimmering wall, his eyes fixed on Zedd in a glassy, pleading stare.

"First," Zedd hissed, his voice low and deliberate, "you will experience the Crush. By merely existing within this higher prison, your body and mind begin to erode. You are failing to understand how to occupy this space—how to exist in two realities at once."

Bagu coughed, a spray of gold-tinted ichor hitting the invisible barrier and immediately bubbling into vapor.

"Second..." Zedd’s smile widened, devoid of any mercy. "Without the air to hold your form together, every liquid in your body begins to boil. Your blood turns to gas, then to nothingness."

Bagu’s form began to bloat, his crystalline scales cracking with the sound of breaking glass.

"It is the perfect execution chamber," Zedd whispered, the mana in his voice growing heavy with finality.

Bagu slammed a fist against the wall like a sick, dying patient, a weak ripple of gold liquid fading instantly.

"Goodbye, Bagu. I never thought ’Gods’ couldn’t exist in higher dimensions."

I had taken careful notice Zedd use: Number Forty-Six. It seemed Devastation Spells were ranked, and their output was consistently beyond comprehension. I had always imagined a Devastation Spell to be a massive, sprawling display of cataclysmic force—explosions that leveled mountain ranges or storms that swallowed kingdoms. I never expected "true" power to look like this. It wasn’t loud; it was absolute.

As I watched Bagu’s multi-limbed form strain and buckle against those deceptively delicate walls, the true horror of the spell became clear. It wasn’t just a cage; it was a rejection of his existence. I stood there, a single question burning in my mind: How does one even begin to acquire a power like this?

Lord Zedd finally turned his back on the cage and walked toward us. I felt a wave of profound relief—thank the gods he was on our side. With a casual wave of his hand, he signaled the mages. Bratan lowered the barriers immediately.

The moment the magical walls vanished, a vacuum effect took hold. Everyone began coughing and gasping; it felt as though the air was rushing into our lungs with violent force, over-inflating us as the atmosphere stabilized.

"Sorry about that, everyone," Zedd said, his voice weary but steady.

Bratan wheezed, wiping sweat and grime from his forehead. "My lord... truly terrifying work."

Morgana didn’t speak. She just stared at the struggling, silent Bagu inside his geometric prison. Zedd glanced back at the dragon. "Don’t worry about him. He is going to die, but I want him to suffer a while longer."

Inside the cube, Bagu was a portrait of frantic, dying energy. He continued slamming himself against the walls—strike after strike—increasing his speed until gold-tinted ichor splattered across the inner faces of the translucent barrier. Enraged and desperate, Bagu threw back his many-horned head. His jaw unhinged, revealing a throat glowing with the incandescent, molten gold of his own boiling blood.

He unleashed a roar—a massive sonic blast of such staggering proportions that it should have leveled the forest for miles. But inside the vacuum, the laws of physics were absolute. There was no medium for the sound to travel; the air that would carry his fury had been stripped away.

I watched in morbid fascination as his throat pulsed and his chest heaved with the force of a world-ending scream, yet the cube remained a tomb of eerie, suffocating silence.

However, Bagu was no mere beast. Even without sound, the raw, vibrating mana of a dying god still surged outward. The gold light lashed against the shimmering planes of the cube, distorting the fourth-dimensional boundary like heat rising off a desert road. The energy was there—visible and violent—but trapped in a silent war against a void that refused to let it escape.

Zedd turned back to the beast once more, his eyes fixed with cold, surgical precision. Slowly, he raised his right hand, his fingers curling as if he were grasping an invisible throat.

"Suffocate."

The effect was instantaneous and horrific. Whatever was left of the internal pressure holding Bagu’s organs together vanished. The dragon’s body gave one final, violent shudder, and then he simply dropped. He hit the bottom of the cube like a discarded puppet, his light fading into a dull, grey husk.

And just like that, it was over. The God was dead.

: > Bagu was never as strong as Primal Dragons, but even the Primals knew it was better to seal Bagu than to kill him. Bagu had died a total of 165 times in his life, and every time, he returned. Very few understood why, but Arolion did. This was the real reason the High Magus had never used life ending spells on him: because of the fear of what Bagu would become next.

Bagu’s true ability was Adaptive Rebirth. Once killed, his body would reconstruct itself to ensure it could never die the same way again. They were about to realize exactly why Bagu called himself a God.

"Tell me, little mouse..."

The voice didn’t come from the prison. It vibrated from the very shattered body inside the cube. Lord Zedd spun around, his face contorting in total disbelief and horror.

"You could conceptualize a spell on the fourth dimension..."

The shattered scales didn’t just heal; they vanished, replaced by something that defied the laws of optics.

"But did you conceptualize the end?" The cube, the unbreakable vacuum of the fourth dimension, began to crack.

"You finally gave me what I wanted. Thank you, little mouse."

Bagu was evolving to the very point that fourth Dimensional spells couldn’t kill him any longer.