The first clash between Astoria's greatsword and the blade of Aurelia's glaive produced a sound wave so powerful that Tristessa felt her eardrums ring and her teeth ache. The knightess' black cloak billowed like demonic wings as she growled with growing fury, applying pressure to subdue her employer, the woman who had given her a chance when no one else would.

  Aurelia leaned forward, countering and matching Astoria's strength, a smug grin on her face. As if the promise of a good fight were within her grasp.

  “Such strength! And yet… I was expecting more, given your family’s reputation,” she said to the platinum-haired woman. “According to fable, your generational grandmother has the strength to tear down an Evil-Warding Pillar.”

  “I kindly request that you don’t compare me to that devil, milady!”

  “Oh? Even by being the owner of a Divinity that its very similar to hers?” Aurelia mocked her with malice. “Why don’t you use it on me?”

  “Enough!”

  “Or are you afraid of becoming more like Valthiel?”

  “ENOUGH!”

  Astoria’s rage caused a sudden increase in the opposing pressure of metal-on-metal contact. A stalemate bound to end in a mutual recoil. Both women stopped their retreat, planting their feet in the ground, and both attacked again.

  “RIAAAAA!” Astoria unleashed all her raw power channeled her greatsword, but from a greater distance, the She-Dragoon raised her glaive and intercepted the blow, deflecting it to the side. The momentum forced Astoria to spin on her own axis to avoid stumbling and launch another attack, in a failed attempt to take Aurelia by surprise. “Grrr!”

  The confident Lady not only had years of combat experience, but her weapon's reach was also superior. This was Astoria's greatest disadvantage: her weapon was heavier, making it more difficult for its wielder to close distances. It forced her to rely only on the speed she gained from relentless attacks.

  “Come on… Come on, Astoria, give me an opening.” Distracting Tristessa for a moment, she heard Auron groan, his voice mingling with the clash of blades and the creaking of the two women's black and silver armor. He was walking sideways, very slowly toward the east, his revolvers aiming at them.

  Severus, on the other hand, advanced in the opposite direction, waiting in silence. Without blinking, he etched every movement of the two warriors, especially Astoria, into his retinas. He watched her attempt horizontal slashes, twisting in arcs and meeting the blade of the terrifying glaive. Time and again, he saw the variations in angles and trajectories accurately predicted by Aurelia, including an attempted thrust deflected with easy and forcing Astoria to retreat with a jump backwards

  “…!” That was the precise moment Severus seized to aim his cane and cast his spell. “Illium Terrova Ex Laudan!”

  With evident difficulty, mental effort, and tracing lines with the fingers of his free hand, Severus conjured a halo made of golden thaumaturgical glyphs that appeared around Aurelia, especially near her feet.

  “That spell…!”

  For Tristessa, it was like reliving a memory from a nonexistent past that had ended in the worst possible way, only this time she wasn't on the victim's side: Aurelia's legs, from the bones to the hard leather and steel of her light armor, began to turn to stone. The same kind as the floor, black cobblestone. An illusion that Urias Janus had used on Severus with ease and effectiveness, while he—surely a victim of the same spell at the hands of that prodigious thaumaturge—not only had extreme difficulty performing the incantation, but it also caused Aurelia's lips to curl into a mocking smirk.

  “Nice try,” she said, and took two steps forward. Shattering the rocky material, causing blood and stones to explode in all directions, and without expressing even a hint of the pain that sent chills through the gray-eyed girl’s own eyes. "You'll have to do more than that, elf."

  Severus cursed under his breath. The lie had been useless; an illusion Aurelia hadn't believed for a second. That was what broke the spell, dispelling the blood and rocks into puffs of smoke, and her legs materialized as if they had always been there. Allowing her to move toward Astoria, who raised her guard against the thrusting attack that was coming her way.

  “…!”

  An attack that never came. It was a feint that led the knightess to raise her sword in an incorrect position, and Aurelia corrected its trajectory, bringing the blade to the opposite side: the edge of the Twilight of the Terror Hand devoured part of the plates protecting the torso at the ribs, throwing sparks and tearing metal as if it were skin and flesh.

  “Fucking Abyss…!”

  What followed was a barrage of attacks combined with feints from the She-Dragoon. Difficult to predict; which to dodge and which to parry; which to allow to graze her armor and which to block so they wouldn't end up as a direct hit. And all from the advantageous distance afforded by the polearm, naturally.

  “Oh no, Tori!” Tristessa lamented as she watched the knightess retreat, overwhelmed while Aurelia attacked after every step she took, a true indestructible war maiden. Until another feint caused Astoria to make another mistake, leaving her head unprotected, where the glaive's blade flew as it changed trajectory. “NO!”

  The reach was perfect, the force distribution precise, and from that position, Astoria had no way to defend herself and prevent her head from being severed in two…

  Unless she had an ace up her sleeve: she stopped holding her greatsword with the left hand and deflected the blade of her opponent's glaive with a powerful blow. The metal plate should have shattered into a thousand pieces, the mail sleeve as well, and it might even have broken her arm. None of that happened; quite the opposite, causing a surprised Aurelia to lose her balance as the blade ricocheted in a small burst of sparks.

  "You're welcome, Blackguard…" Tristessa, her nerves on edge, heard Severus murmur, a smile full of self-importance on his face. The creator of that magical defense that Astoria possessed on her gauntlets, in the form of non-elemental glyphs of physical protection etched on their surface. "TRISTESSA!"

  The girl was stunned by Severus's success after his illusion thaumaturgy failed, realizing too late that he had shouted her name, his proud smile shattering into a thousand pieces, replaced by shock and fear.

  Then she felt wind. A powerful gust, and a shadow moving at high speed toward her in her peripheral vision.

  “Damn it!

  “SYCOMA!

  Two missed shots and a thaumaturgical spell that activated right in front of Tristessa—that's what saved her life. In a split second, she saw the tip of the saber that made up Twilight of the Terror Hand inches from touching the center of her forehead, separated only by the shockwave generated by the non-elemental glyph that appeared and collapsed in on itself with the same speed.

  In that brief moment, she saw Aurelia suspended in mid-air after propelling herself forward with the simultaneous use of her Divinity and the agility amplified by her Essential Dilution. Clinging to her weapon, her unblinking eyes wide and fixed on her. Surrounded by an aura that exuded murderous intent. A bloodlust so extreme that it paralyzed every nerve ending in Tristessa's body.

  Had it not been for that life-saving glyph from Severus, she would be dead now…

  The collision between Aurelia's weapon and the repulsive force of the spell culminated in a shockwave that exploded, sending Tristessa and the She-Dragoon flying in opposite directions.

  The dark-haired girl dropped her weapon, the world spinning wildly around her until she felt the hardness of the stone floor beneath her. The impact knocked the wind out of her, and she spun toward the entrance, feeling the coldness of the smooth, dark material against her face.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  “Ugh… Shit!” She fought against the widespread pain that coursed through her body and crawled as best she could toward her weapon, waiting for her a few feet away. The moment her fingers touched the leather-wrapped handle, she was overcome by a false sense of security, completely detached from what was happening before her eyes. “Oh God!”

  The instant Aurelia's feet touched the ground, both Astoria and Auron attacked at the same time. The armor-piercing bullets were aimed only at damaging the protection on Aurelia's back and limbs, forcing her to use her enhanced reflexes to the fullest to deflect the bullets with her glaive and, at the same time, block the onslaught of Astoria's attacks.

  “Attractor!”

  “That's right, attack me all at once!” roared the She-Dragoon, ecstatic as she was attacked from both sides and from the ground, when she was subjected to the gravitational effect of the violet glyphs that appeared around her. “Ah…!”

  Her immense physical strength still granted her full mobility despite Severus's magical influence, but blocking the gunslinger’s shots proved more difficult: several bullets found their mark, denting and shattering the black steel plates protecting her arms and lower back.

  “Is this a game to you, milady?!” Astoria roared with unbound fury and made a downward slashing motion, aiming to sink her sword's blade into her collarbone.

  “Dying isn’t a game, you imbecile.”

  In a display of absolute skill, Aurelia raised her weapon horizontally, deflecting one of the projectiles and blocking her rival’s attack, simultaneously. She repelled another projectile and, with the end of the metal shaft, struck Astoria on the head, near the temple. This counterattack allowed her to execute a series of spins with her weapon, forcing the bloodied knighetess back and clearing the way for Severus, who was trying to maintain the stability of the magical effect as long as possible.

  The combination of her Divinity and a slash in midair allowed Aurelia to unleash a wave of wind so powerful that the impact sent both him and his cane crashing to the ground.

  “Ah, Uncle Severus!” Tristessa heard Lucahn's scream as part of the violent wave of wind reached the magical barrier protecting the execution platform, causing it to vibrate and generate worrying, cracking sounds like glass under dangerous pressure. “Will they be alright?!”

  The boy was clutching Vergil with both hands as if the lesser demon was a giant stuffed toy, while the beast was growling with almost unrestrained anger at not being allowed to join the fight. Jin, Tiara, and Jonas watched the battle with a wide range of conflicting emotions.

  Hanging between hope and despair.

  BANG. BANG. BANG.

  Aurelia had been freed from the gravity magic and forced Auron to fire both revolvers to prevent her from launching a surprise attack on Astoria, who was gripping the upper and lower hilts of her greatsword in a defensive position, fighting against her own body, trying not to lose her balance from the blow.

  “Don’t forget me, lady!” the gunslinger shouted. Seeing him sideways, from the position where she had fallen and crawled to retrieve her hunting dagger, Tristessa found his amber eyes, full of determination. Different from the ones resigned to oblivion, which had only known a terrible end in the previous loop. “Come on, here I am! Or isn’t a vagabond like me enough for your majesty…?!”

  No sooner had Aurelia deflected the last bullet than she propelled herself toward him with the help of her Divinity. Exactly as in the nonexistent past; wielding her glaive with the same intention of severing his hands…

  “AURON!”

  Tristessa’s scream carried with it a soul-shattering torment that no one else in that timeline could understand, nor would they ever. The fear of losing Auron, of seeing him suffer until the last minute and his broken body left abandoned in the shadows of the night, was a negative emotion that had no basis in that present where the circumstances were totally different thanks to their actions.

  And Auron was the one to prove it to her, once again.

  “…!”

  He holstered his right revolver and, having previously used his [Divinity of Pocket Dimension], held up a sphere made of black textile material that instantly ignited. He threw it upwards with a simple flick of his wrist, causing the sphere—or, rather, grenade—to rise slightly until it was level with his face and Aurelia's, who tried to stop at the last second.

  She didn't succeed: the grenade exploded and released a powerful, blinding light that flooded the woman's eyes.

  “Agh, fucking shit! Damn vagabond!”

  And she wasn't the only one: although Tristessa had been warned in advance by Auron that he had these kinds of tricks up his quantum sleeve, it all happened so fast that she barely had time to rejoice or use a couple of fingers to block the light.

  Through narrowed gaze, she watched the gunslinger swiftly load his revolvers with bullets appropriate for the occasion, Astoria lunged at her opponent, and Severus once again applied gravity magic.

  The three were ready to unleash a barrage of attacks against the blinded Lady of the Dominion.

  “Try to move now, Eramisaptor!” the blood elf shouted, his shirt torn and his crimson scarf disheveled. Sweating and breathless, he added geometric precision to the magical calculations with the movement of his fingers, making the gravitational pull gradient even stronger than before, causing the ground to begin cracking beneath Aurelia's feet.

  “Good, Severus! Keep her like that; it makes my job easier!” With that cheer, Auron continued firing. His bullets struck the unprotected or compromised areas of her armor, causing the woman to shudder violently and roar in pain. “All yours, Astoria!”

  “Don’t tell me twice, Auron!”

  With blood dripping from the side of her head and the expression of a beautiful angel consumed by divine wrath, Astoria pushed aside the polearm saber with which Aurelia was trying to defend herself and struck her in the stomach with the end of the hilt of her greatsword, a symbolic act of revenge for the attack Tristessa had suffered earlier.

  “Ugh, ah! What in the Abyss are you doing…?! Argh! Stop it!” Aurelia shrieked, dodging the head blow the platinum-haired woman aimed for with her sword’s pommel. She countered with a thrust that resulted in the tip of her glaive’s blade cleaving through the surface of the right pauldron. Then she kicked the injured Astoria away, and caught one of the flying bullets with her right hand. A truly impressive and painful feat. “What is this…?”

  “Damn it,” Tristessa thought, moving closer to Severus to stand beside him. Nervous and anticipating what was about to happen. And she wasn’t the only one: her three allies were also aware of this, their concern palpable as they slowly distanced themselves from the She-Dragoon. “She’s going to find out.”

  “Is this a non-lethal bullet?” Opening her hand, Aurelia saw with narrowed, confused eyes the projectile tipped with an oily paraffin, its function being to cause blunt-force trauma to incapacitate. That's why every shot that hit the exposed parts of her armor hurt like hell, but without any penetrating damage. Her vision finally cleared, and she had no doubt whatsoever. “Is this a joke, Casimir?!”

  Then she turned her attention to Severus and Astoria, her composure crumbling under the pressure of the rising fury she was trying to keep in check.

  "And you two, all you know how to use is gravity thaumaturgy and striking true with your pommel?! What are you playing at...?!”

  Realization. Her violet eyes widened, radiating such rage that the hard shaft of her weapon squeaked as if in pain under the woman's firm grip.

  “…you don’t intend to kill me? Is that it? TELL ME, IS THAT IT?!” she roared, and when she received no response from the silent quartet, she pointed an accusing finger at Jonas Youngblood, who remained impassive. “It was you! Always interfering, obstructing my path at the slightest opportunity…!”

  “Stop crying, Aurelia. We chose not to kill you, and that’s what we’ll do.”

  Hearing those words spoken with such brazenness was enough to send the Lady of the Dominion into shock. Slowly, like the initial spark of what would soon become a raging inferno, she turned her head to look questioningly at Tristessa. She, who had captured everyone’s attention with her audacity and resolve—which was now being tested, under pressure that could mean the difference between Life and Death.

  “You dare disrespect me like that? You… You miserable, pathetic, otherworldly worm, how dare you?” she demanded, her voice trembling with disbelief. “We agreed to a duel to the death, and you don’t have the honor to respect it! Neither you nor your pathetic allies! Damn you! If you don’t keep your word, your only right before you die is to remain silent!”

  “Make me, bitch.”

  That retort, uttered almost without a thought for anything other than preventing Aurelia from unleashing her fury on the execution platform and those standing there, put Tristessa's allies on high alert: fresh bullets in Auron's revolvers, non-elemental light gleaming in the glintstone of Auron's cane, and the sound of Astoria's greatsword blade slicing through the air as she assumed her attack stance once again.

  And Aurelia? Against all odds, she let out a cackle.

  "Oh, it seems surviving the witches' attack gave you a false sense of invincibility. I shall relish watching you weep and crawl at my feet, Stranger… Come to me, Mystia!"

  With that cry, she summoned her mount, which had been waiting huddled against the western wall, and it responded right away. Running like a great shadow at incredible speed, Aurelia leaped forward on a supernatural gust of wind to land upon her. Aracross and She-Dragoon, one roaring and the other glaring venomously at their rivals, were ready to rain annihilation upon them.

  “You will all die screaming and begging for mercy that I will never grant!” she warned, brandishing her glaive and her mount hungry for fresh meat. “I will tear your bodies apart and rip your souls out so that every time you hear the name of Aurelia Eramisaptor in the Void, you will feel the pain of a terrifying end for all eternity!”