Accompanied by her allies, Tristessa walked alongside Jonas through the labyrinthine corridors of the castle, deeper within. Unlike in the previous loop, where her vision had been blocked and she had been escorted with no freedom of movement beyond her feet, she could now appreciate the Gothic aesthetic of these corridors, typical of medieval castles but modernized with period lighting and pipes that circulated steam to the various rooms.

  Aside from their footsteps and the metallic clang of Astoria's armor plates, all was silent, and there wasn't a single soldier in sight: it seemed Aurelia had truly emptied the castle of personnel so that no one would discover the secret duel they were about to have.

  This was confirmed once again when the group crossed the threshold of the great wooden door, which connected to the south entrance of the large square courtyard at the geometric center of the castle. Its high, black walls, illuminated by power crystals that emanated a cold light, kept the darkness of night at bay. Allowing them to see both the metal execution platform in the center of the arena and the only four people present.

  “Curses…!” Tristessa heard Severus groan behind her, frightened to the bone at the sight of the three Mercer-Archeos, without any binding but kneeling, as if forced by a force superior to their will. Exactly the same position Tristessa remembered, the one that had driven her to utter despair. “This is a nightmare…!”

  “No, Sev.” The gray-eyed girl took the trouble to look over her shoulder at the disheartened blood elf, to convey the confidence he needed to avoid succumbing to the anguish of a hell his current self didn't know. “Everything will be alright.”

  “T-Tristessa…”

  This wasn't the doom scenario she remembered. While the setting was the same, the circumstances were different thanks to all the work done throughout the present timeline.

  Hope was stronger than ever, and that was what she wanted the woman standing before the execution platform to know.

  This warrior, a veteran of countless battles, now free of her Hidden Shadow, yet capable of imposing her presence even in a Evil Dream. Accompanied by her giant aracross, a lesser demon that never stopped salivating and growling at the newcomers.

  Her light armor, reinforced with black steel plates at the most vulnerable points of her body, shone as if surrounded by an aura both sinister and beautiful, thanks to the light of the Twin Moons and the power crystals reflected on them.

  And in her right hand, she held that polearm that Tristessa's body and soul knew so well; that black glaive with its spiked, curved ornaments, designed to spread terror among her enemies.

  “Welcome,” she said to them, patting Mystia on the back as she stopped beside her. “I didn’t get a chance to tell you how excited I am that you’re interested in the Path of the Dragoon, Stranger. Your aracross seems to have a good affinity with you.”

  “Don’t even try it,” Jonas warned Tristessa, whispering close to her ear. “You’ll only cause more trouble for your companions if you don’t have combat experience riding an aracross.”

  “You’re right. Vergil…” Tristessa bent down slightly to stroke her trusty furry companion’s head and receive a lick on her fingers. “Listen: I need you to go and keep Lucahn company, okay? He lost a little friend who looked just like you not too long ago, and I’m sure you can cheer him up a bit in this difficult situation.”

  “Graaa… Graa!”

  She didn't need to interpret the volume of his growls to know that the idea of ??staying out of the fight didn't appeal to him, but in the end, Vergil obeyed his owner and trotted to the execution platform. He nimbly climbed aboard and cautiously approached the family. Sitting on his hind legs next to the small, frightened child, he barked gently at him to show that he had nothing to fear.

  “May Nekronomika watch over you, Miss Irandell,” the Advisor wished her before turning away, following Vergil toward the execution platform. He ascended the stairs and raised his cane, channeling magical energy through its crystal. “Aegis Verysium Vafun.”

  The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

  “So much magical power…!”

  Tristessa heard Astoria whisper under her breath, while Severus was speechless with awe at such a presence, which everyone, without exception, felt spreading through every pore of their skin like tiny electrical discharges.

  A series of non-elemental, phosphorescent violet glyphs arranged in the shape of a halo appeared around the execution platform. Upon decaying after activation, those spread a semi-transparent aura around its perimeter, quick enough to be missed by the eye of the untrained.

  “Good idea, Jonas: we don’t want any collateral damage, eh?” Aurelia said, almost as if mocking him, and kicked a small stone with the heel of her leg, sending it flying randomly and at great speed toward the platform. The impact never happened, as the stone struck the almost invisible wall, and the inertia spread like ripples from one end to the other. The Advisor stood beside the Mercer-Archeos without showing any reaction, unlike the startled members of the family. “Mystia, go away. We’ll do things fairly…at least for a while.”

  Aurelia also sent her lesser demon back, only this one grumbled in offense and went to the side of the courtyard, still growling. A reaction that made its owner laugh, and she turned her attention back to her opponents with a newfound smile.

  “If you win, Lord Youngblood will take the reins of End-World until he finds a suitable replacement. He will have no qualms about sparing everyone’s life. Even yours, Stranger,” she explained, as if the Advisor weren’t present. “Don’t worry about Sylas; there can be no retaliation since this duel is permitted under Imperial law. And as for my death… Make up some story, I don’t care. There is no one in this world who will remember me fondly. A beloved daughter? A lover? A mother? A friend? I am none of those things to anyone… I am the Lady of the Dominion and She-Dragoon of End-World. Nothing more than two titles.”

  “Oh, Aurelia…”

  Lamenting for that unfortunate woman pained Tristessa, both in her soul and in her mind, enveloped by that intolerable and pervasive mental frost. She felt great sorrow for her and for Jonas—Aurelia’s adoptive father in the shadows, and hearing her talk about herself like that only deepened her feelings towards her.

  To belittle herself in that way, to express the loneliness she felt with that steely, battle-ready demeanor…

  “I truly cannot hate you. I already have enough by hating myself… Hating Tristessa Irandell.”

  That was a message from her mind that Aurelia would never receive. Oblivious to the girl's distress, she continued speaking and laying the groundwork for the battle, though there wasn't much more to say than an ominous warning:

  “If you survive, Stranger, you will have your chance to save my people and earn Jonas’s help. It will be a secret and a sin I will take to my grave,” Aurelia said to her. She spoke with peace, accepting a possible fate where only darkness and silence lay at the end of the road. “But if I win… Well, all of you will be cold corpses beneath my feet.”

  [Twilight of the Terror Hand] swirled like a vortex of shadows in her hands, and along with a swift, small demonstration of her [Divinity of Air Haste], Aurelia unleashed a gust of wind in every direction of the courtyard. It enveloped Tristessa’s entire body, making her feel its nocturnal hostility and forcing both her and her allies to take a step back.

  “If someone had told me a month ago that I would be about to fight to the death against Aurelia Eramisaptor, and in the company of a Stranger, a blood elf, and a fallen knightess, I would never have believed it.” Auron adjusted his hat and drew his revolvers, loaded and ready. “The things I do for soul-jewels… Anyway, can we count on you, Blackguard?”

  “Of course. And I expect you and Severus to be ready to support me.” Astoria drew her greatsword and adopted an attack stance. Ready to take the lead, her red eyes fixed on her new enemy. “My survival, and the kitten’s, will depend heavily on you.”

  “You just focus on wielding that sword: I’ll make Eramisaptor’s life a living hell with my magic… and I’ll make sure that the Four-Divinities Lady with No Combat Aptitude doesn’t die in an instant,” Severus remarked, smiling at Tristessa like the sadistic and comical elf she had fallen in love with. “I’ll only say this once: don’t you dare die, Tessa.”

  Tristessa felt tears welling in her eyes, her throat closing with the emotion that gripped her heart. Hearing those words, which held such profound and defining meaning for her… There was no comparison, no explanation for how grateful and hopeful she felt.

  “Relax, Sev…” she pleaded, her hunting dagger in hand, trembling like a leaf. Equally frightened and excited, her brain burning with cold pain. “I’m not ready to die yet!”

  There was no turning back for the quartet. The waiting was over, giving way to bloodshed. It was Tristessa’s moment to achieve a different outcome than the last loop, on the same stage, but with a crucial element in the hearts of her allies: the desire to achieve their dreams.

  “Come to me, all of you!” the She-Dragoon challenged, the tip of her glaive aiming at them. Tristessa, her main target. “Show me your determination, Irandell!”