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Clearly, whoever this was had been keeping their abilities secret for a long time. Which told Vanderberk that they were not merely intending to stall for time here.

They believed they would be able to kill him.

How many times was he going to be underestimated before people learned?

And if his opponent was so eager to see it, then Vanderberk supposed he should oblige.

The power he'd acquired in Qenghis all those years ago was not something he liked to use freely or often. Such recklessness would've only made the enemy's job of gathering intel on him that much easier.

Not to mention, it was dangerous to himself, as well. The minute he stopped respecting it, he would be consumed.

Perhaps this illusion-slinger would make that mistake. Perhaps they would believe that the things Vanderberk was showing them were mere illusions, too.

It would be an understandable error, if also a deadly one.

Despite its entirely strange and foreign nature, however, Vanderberk had come to learn that his helium was quite complementary to it. Even though helium was seemingly quite limited compared to other elements, he had discovered certain key uses in his youth that were still coming in handy with it to this day.

The ability to stealthily suffocate people had been quite the assassin's tool, back in the day. And of course, there were things like fire suppression and acidic immunity that often caught his more aggressive opponents by surprise.

More recently, though, there were the developments with pan-rozum. Since helium was invisible to the naked eye, that of course meant that he, too, could become invisible, not unlike an aberration.

His invisibility, however, was more refined in some ways. And quite necessary, for this next part.

He'd closed his eyes earlier in order to not become disoriented by the confusing, illusory mess that his opponent wanted him to see.

But now, he opened them again. And when he did, they were red as blood--and burning with ethereal fire.

In an instant, he brought all of his concentration to bear. The illusory world around him dissolved like ashes caught in a whirlwind, and for a brief time, he saw the normal world again. The green of the forest. The white of the waterfall. The Dakinsalla.

Then it was all replaced with black-and-white fire. With a million gangly, twisted arms reaching, grasping. With distorted eyes, searching. With bodies, headless and roaming.

With the Living Inferno.