The spiral earth quaked beneath Fitran's feet, the once-quiet swamp now roiling like a sea of ancient fury. Black fog danced above the muck, carrying a sharp scent that stabbed at the nose and scorched the lungs. From behind the curtain of smoke emerged a monstrous figure, half-bull and eight-legged arachnid, its dull fur slick with venom, and two gigantic horns dripping with a greenish-black fluid that gnawed at the stones around it. Its eyes glowed a fierce red, and a colossal net stretched out, binding the wailing souls amid the shattered bones of the fallen.

  “Ushi-oni,” the ground trembled under its weight, “Fate… are you truly this foolish or merely eager for death? This is no place for humans, let alone for a creature like you. Everyone who ventures into this swamp ends up in my banquet of poison!”

  Fitran, the Voidlight embedded halfway into the muck, held his breath against the stench in the air. “I didn’t come here to fall into a trap. I’m just lost. Can you help me out, Old Man?”

  “Lost? Don’t make me laugh,” Ushi-oni snarled, digging into the sludge with even more fervor. “Your bravery will only lead to death.”

  “Care to place a bet?” Fitran shot back, a sardonic smile on his lips. “Death isn’t the end; it’s a doorway to something darker. How about you prove that your precious spiral magic can really prepare you for the shadows?”

  “Arrogant! You think this is just a joke? Today, I’ll serve you the finest poison ever conjured from the darkness of the spiral lands!”

  “Ah, poison and darkness,” Fitran grinned wider, “It seems I’m all too familiar with both. If you’re relying on your toxins, perhaps you don’t realize that the deadliest poison is helplessness. And look at you now, ensnared in this crowded history.”

  Ushi-oni's arachnid legs clawed at the mud as toxic bubbles erupted around him, enraged by Fitran’s words. “Don’t you dare underestimate my power, human!”

  “But look who’s wagering their life in this swamp,” Fitran glanced right and left, “Maybe I should rewrite the history of darkness, where monsters like you become the hilarious tales you seek.”

  Fitran smiled coldly, a chilling expression etching across his face, his eyes sharp as knives. “Poison? How amusing. If your poison really can kill anyone, then why haven’t I reacted at all? Perhaps your body odor is the real lethal toxin. Or maybe... this is all just part of the illusion you’ve crafted in this spiraling world?”

  "Keep laughing, you pathetic human,” Ushi-Oni retorted.

  Ushi-Oni bowed his head, “If that’s the case, then prepare to feel the weight of my five deathly legacies! This is the poison magic of the spiral:

  Miasma of Forgotten Sins – A foul mist that paralyzes the soul and drowns memories.

  Vermillion Corrosion – A searing red liquid that melts bones and flesh.

  Nightmare Lotus Venom – An illusionary flower toxin that assaults the mind with nightmares.

  Soul-Eater Toxin – A dark magic that devours the souls of its victims, leaving their bodies devoid of will.

  Crawling Widow’s Bile – A purplish-green poison that breeds parasites within the blood.

  "Good luck trying to survive, spiral human!”

  “Ah, deathly legacy? It seems you think of this as some theatrical performance, Ushi-Oni. But do you realize that the spiral you pride yourself on is no different from the circle of hell you continuously create with your own hands?” he said, positioning his body to be more prepared, allowing the Miasma to approach.

  Ushi-Oni lifted its four front legs, the toxic magic flowing out like a wave of foul lava. A thick green miasma spiraled around, pressing against the atmosphere like an invisible giant's hand. “And you’re still alive, hmm? There’s nothing more disgusting than a creature that fights against its own death,” it hissed.

  The first fog struck Fitran, forcing his lungs to scream against the burning sensation. “Oh, I’ve witnessed many ways to die,” he said with a cynical smile. “But your Spiral teachings mean nothing to me. You feel powerful, yet you are trapped in the dark verses of your own making.”

  The fog absorbed all sound, blurring the world around him, making Fitran’s steps feel like walking through a bloody, regret-filled corridor of the past. The second outburst, Vermillion Corrosion, lunged from the left, dripping red fluid onto the ground—the spiral stones hissed, the air vibrating with the scent of charred flesh. “Ah, this smell,” Fitran remarked sarcastically, “the aroma of reality that reminds us death always approaches with a horrifying elegance.”

  Fitran coughed blood from his lips, a wry smile crossing his face. “You thought I came here without a plan? Your spiral poison is just child's play. I’ll give you ten reasons why light is more than just the enemy of darkness. And remember, every step you take toward darkness is a choice. A choice that could either drown you or let you soar.”

  Fitran stretched his right hand above his head, “First, Lux Purifier!”

  A burst of white light flowed from the tips of Fitran's fingers, forming a circle around his body. “Behold! The power of light long forgotten by many, the light that can erase the remnants of your past, incinerating the lessons from that cursed spiral magic,” he continued, his eyes glinting with dark excitement. The Miasma fog melted away, pulled into the walls of light, then evaporated.

  Fitran locked his gaze on Ushi-oni, “Memory poison can only paralyze those who wish to forget. As for me, each sin is carefully recorded in my mind. Sure, some dare to keep records in this world of illusion, but I... I am the reminder of cruelty.”

  Ushi-oni growled, swinging his poison-laden leg, “You can withstand one; what about two, three, five all at once?”

  Fitran, with a thin smile laced with sarcasm, replied, “Ah, Ushi-oni, perhaps you still don’t grasp the meaning of Spiral Magic. Even a single shard of the soul can tear apart a catastrophe, let alone if you try to bear more than you can handle.”

  Fitran swung the Voidlight in front of his chest, “Second, Sun Needle. Light needles, shatter all acid!”

  Tens of light needles pierced the air, ripping through droplets of Vermillion Corrosion before embedding themselves into the skin. “You see, your poison is nothing more than a fading shadow of the past,” he remarked, watching Ushi-oni’s eyes widen in shock. The crimson mist shattered into golden dust.

  Fitran's voice was firm yet filled with bitterness, “You’ll never be able to melt away will, only flesh. Have you forgotten? The soul of a monster never truly dies within a human body. Throughout history, defeat has never been an end, but rather the beginning of a new birth. And I, I am the birth that gnaws at this world.”

  The author's content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Nightmare Lotus Venom dripped from the horns, transforming into black petals that floated down slowly like the snow of a bad dream. A sweet, rancid aroma pierced Fitran’s head, his vision blurred, his heart beating erratically—shadows of the past danced within the purple mist. “Each petal serves as a reminder of the buried desolation, doesn’t it?” he mused, gazing at the overcast sky.

  Fitran's voice softened, “Third, Radiant Bloom.”

  He pressed against the earth, golden flowers blossoming from the muck, each petal radiating a gentle light, absorbing the venom of nightmarish thoughts before he sank into an illusion. “But not everything that shines is good. This flower is merely a resonance of Spiral Magic—will you allow it to siphon your life away like you do with your own sins?”

  Fitran chuckled softly, “Nightmares… they’re just nostalgia for creatures like me. A nostalgia filled with sorrow that shapes my identity—perhaps that's why I feel more alive than a mere pile of living flesh.”

  Ushi-oni rasped, “How dare you laugh in the face of death?”

  Fitran glared sharply, “Death is merely an escape for those too afraid to confront the darkness. Let yourself sink, Ushi-oni, and discover the beauty within the chaos you’ve created. This darkness is my home, and you have just crashed through its doorway.”

  Fitran deflected the net with Voidlight, “Fourth, Lumen Barrier!”

  A transparent wall emerged, blocking the onslaught of Soul-Eater Toxin. The black energy recoiled, and the souls nearly consumed cried out before vanishing. “Ah, beauty in emptiness,” he remarked, a cynical smile gracing his lips. “Do you hope to banish this light? Our history is merely fragments in the dark that you carry with you.”

  Fitran turned sharply, “You think you can swallow my soul? Perhaps you’re hungry, but I’ve consumed far more names than you can imagine. Trust me, I am more than a mere longing for creatures like you.”

  The Soul-Eater Toxin shifted form, seeping in as a black mist towards Fitran’s head, trying to gnaw at his memories. In his mind, the whispers of Ushi-oni's past victims echoed: “Don’t trust the light. Everything ends in this swamp.” But Fitran responded with a wave of energy. “Do you think whispers of hope can erase dark memories? No, they only deepen the sorrow I’m trapped within, spiraling endlessly,” he retorted, belittling his opponent.

  Fitran, trembling, declared, “The fifth, Seraphic Pulse. Shake every will, cast the spirits’ voices to the edge of the spiral!”

  The sound of tinkling light echoed, slicing through the fog, banishing the spirits to the fringes of the swamp. “Do you feel that? The wave of curses flowing through every particle of wind? Do not ignore the pain you’ve left behind, Ushi-oni,” he added, a note of satisfaction in his voice. “That is the beauty of the spiral magic system—a timeless spectacle.”

  Ushi-oni laughed, “Your body is starting to tremble, Fate. No one has ever survived the five spirals of my poison!”

  Fitran, holding back his wounds, retorted, “The sixth, Sol Invicta Bind!”

  Chains of light coiled around Ushi-oni’s legs, forcing the creature to remain restrained. The toxin of Crawling Widow’s Bile crawled along the chains but was instantly incinerated. “How does it feel, Ushi-oni? Trapped in the same light—those beautiful memories turned frightening. You cannot escape the consequences of your actions,” he said with a sardonic tone, displaying his arrogance for just a moment before the next strike.

  Fitran smirked, “Poison that creeps through your veins? I've sacrificed my body too many times for techniques far more sinister than this. You truly need to learn to appreciate the artistry of the spiral. Each drop of poison has its own story; it's only your ignorance that keeps you from realizing it,” he added with a sharp mockery.

  Crawling Widow’s Bile twisted like tiny worms, seeking gaps in Fitran's skin, but every contact with the spiraling light erupting from the Voidlight turned them to ash.

  Fitran held his breath, his body drenched in cold sweat, “Seventh, Purity Spiral.”

  A spiral of light burst forth from the ground, pulling all the poison from the air, twisting it into a dark orb suspended in the air before devouring it into the earth. “Ah, Ushi-oni, did you ever realize how easy it is to erase your tracks? Like wiping away a blight from history. But remember, we are all stuck in the same circle,” he said with a sardonic tone.

  Fitran fixed his gaze on Ushi-oni, “Eighth, Aureate Mirage. Do you really think you can blind my direction? I can even deceive my own eyes.”

  In an instant, Fitran’s shadow multiplied, each duplicate skillfully dodging the next swirl of poison, leaving Ushi-oni disoriented. “How na?ve of you. In this world, only the most cunning survive. And you… you’re merely a shadow of what truly is,” he added, a mocking grin stretching across his face.

  Ushi-oni roared in anger, “Coward! Face my poison, don’t hide!”

  Fitran replied, his voice low, “Ninth, Sanctus Rain.”

  A deluge of light rained down from the spiraling sky; each drop washed away the toxic muck, cleansing the battlefield of its remnants of destruction. “My poison flows within you like blood, Ushi-oni. But look around you, even amidst this graceful maneuver, chaos remains an inseparable part of our world.”

  The spiral field grew clearer as the poison slowly receded. Yet, Fitran's body was already riddled with deep wounds, his veins burned, remnants of poison swirling in his bloodstream, dancing between life and death. “And how strong do you think you can be against the seventh power of the spiral? A force that even the most esteemed sorcerers hesitate to speak of?” he taunted, locking eyes with Ushi-oni, his gaze piercing.

  Fitran caught his breath, “The tenth and final one: Eclipse Commandment. Both light and darkness can serve as instruments of destruction.”

  He paused for a moment, “You see, sacrifice is always needed in the ritual of power. Pain and chaos carve themselves behind every spell. But believe me, after this, we will all be left lingering in the shadows of eternity.”

  He spun Voidlight, two circles—one white, one black—merging into a great spiral that devoured all poison and magical energy within the bog. “Look, Ushi-oni, see how your power dissipates within this spiral. Your magical legacy is nothing but fragments, mere illusions drawn upon the sand.” The air roared, nets of flame encircled them, and the spirits screamed as they were sucked into the whirling Voidlight. “Did you ever think that everything you possess would come to an end right here?”

  Ushi-oni, in a state of despair, shouted, “No! My poison… my power… you’re erasing my legacy!”

  “This legacy, huh? Ah, it’s too easy to grasp what was never there,” Fitran replied, a bitter smile curling his lips as blood trickled from his temple. “No one wishes to remember the suffering except those who seek to burn the world again. In this spiral of magic, only the strongest get to define history.”

  The marsh now quaked, Ushi-oni clawing at the mud, its body melting into mist and spirit, then shattering into thousands of tiny spiders desperately trying to escape. Fitran swung the Voidlight, the black net sweeping across the marsh, incinerating every trace of Ushi-oni one by one. “You know, in this world, survival always favors the clever over the powerful. Are you bold enough to say this isn’t the most beautiful end to your defeat?”

  Fitran's voice was hoarse, “Don’t dare hope to become a legend, Ushi-oni. In my world, monsters are nothing more than footnotes.”

  Ushi-oni's voice faded into the mist, “The curse isn’t over… the marsh will always be waiting….”

  Fitran took a deep breath, his body a canvas of wounds, “You claim death is the end. I say, death is merely an episode not worth repeating. And look, history always loops back, doesn’t it? Just like this endless spiral of magic.”

  “You’re trapped in a wicked narrative crafted by foolish sorcerers,” Fitran continued, his tone dripping with irony. “One layer after another, like piles of bones beneath our feet.”

  The spiral world fell silent as the battlefield transformed into a barren land strewn with bones, the scent of poison gradually dissipating. In Fitran's hands, the Voidlight now radiated a new pattern—five dark runes, the mark of the Ushi-oni poison that had been burned.

  Kagutsuchi no Ura's voice echoed softly from afar, "You've only removed one web, Fitran. There are still many labyrinths waiting for you."

  Fitran gazed up at the spiral sky, an icy calmness in his demeanor. "Why not finish it now? Isn't it time for us to go on a date, Kagu-chan?"

  Kagutsuchi no Ura merely smiled faintly, replying, "I forgot that you're quite the playboy."

  "You must be eager for it," Fitran casually remarked.

  He stepped out of the marsh, leaving a trail of blood and light behind him. His breath was heavy, yet his smile remained thin, full of mockery, defying a world that always sought to kill him first.

  Fitran's voice became a whisper of death, "Every battle, every poison... it’s just another way to remind myself that I haven't finished writing your ends."

  The marsh fell silent once more, as if nothing had ever happened. Only the new runes on the Voidlight and the deep wounds on Fitran's body testified that the spiral world had lost one of its poison legends tonight.