“Impossible…”
Jonas Youngblood was the first to speak, breaking the silence, his astonishment emerging before anyone else had.
That word -impossible- encapsulated the collective feeling of everyone in that black-stone yard. They hadn't just seen a miracle; they were seeing with their own eyes something worthy of dreams and nightmares: a woman clad in full black armor who had appeared amidst a chaotic column of darkness and inflicted a grievous wound on none other than Aurelia Eramisaptor.
Something neither Tiara nor her husband could have ever imagined: seeing that woman who banished them into the wilds, fallen and bleeding. Holding hands more tightly than ever, as hope rose from the ashes like the mythical phoenix of Earth.
“How? B-but we defeated her!” Severus was the first of the trio of allies to express the panic that the Dullahan was walking among them again. Almost unable to believe that the Nemesis stood there; a sinister avatar of power, her dark cloak billowing and emanating pure Discord from the joints her armor couldn't conceal, proving she still possessed her dark spectral nature. “What's she doing here?!”
“Is she on our side now?” Astoria added to the uncertainty, not letting go of Auron until he showed her he could stand on his own and wasn't bleeding anymore. “Is she serving Tristessa?”
“She…?”
The gunslinger's unfinished question found its answer when the shadows vanished without warning, taking the Dullahan with them. In the wake of the retreating darkness, the gray-eyed girl clutched her chest as her legs gave away, her knees painfully bearing her full weight.
“Ha…ha…!”
But that physical pain was nothing compared to the terror and the icy sensation she tried to quell, breathing in time with her racing heartbeat. She felt the heat of ruptured capillaries beneath her skin, behind her eyes and nose. Then the unimaginable cold of the spiritual strain that had subdued Tristessa was more terrible than ever. Feeling as if hands made of ice were squeezing her soul between their fingers, nails digging deep, ready to tear it apart.
“This new Divinity! One more second and I…,” she thought, tears sliding down her cheeks because of that phantom sensation of such profound cold that it could only be compared to the antechamber of Death. “Not even Accursed Existence with Demiurgic Regression demands as much of my soul as this. If I’m not careful, I’ll die…”
“HRAAAK—!” A few meters ahead, Aurelia gagged and spat out an alarming amount of blood that splattered the floor alongside that which dripped from broken, bent metal and the inner lining of her uniform. She watched, stunned, as her fingers and nails turned red, revealing her own vulnerability and what she was suffering at the hands of a girl in almost the same condition as herself. “IRANDELL…!”
The venom with which she uttered that surname gave her impious strength, instead of slowly killing her. It was the shattered courage of a ruler who had nothing left to lose but her life, the humiliation of believing she had been deceived once again by that Stranger, with dirty, deadly tricks up her sleeve. She rose as her upper armor and what remained of her uniform finally succumbed to their own fragility and fell to pieces.
Her luminous soul was an invisible influence, yet its presence was palpable and sent shivers down Tristessa’s spine. Intoxicated with spite and bloodlust, that spirit drove Aurelia to her feet and to retrieve her glaive, tearing the bloodied remnants of her upper uniform with her bare hands. She conjured ever-stronger winds through the [Divinity of Air Haste], raising dust from the ground and forcing the three warriors and the Mercer-Archeos to shield themselves with their arms to withstand the violent assault.
Making Tristessa feel those sharp gusts on her face and froze the drops of blood that trickled from the orifices of her face.
“…”
Naked from the waist up, Aurelia didn't say a word as she used that same wind to lift her Twilight of the Terror Hand from the ground and seized it with her right hand. Holding it firmly, she slammed its end against the floor with such force that the stone cracked. The hurricane-force winds turned her hair into flying shadows, pushing it away from her bare back. Showing a terrified Tristessa the black image etched into the skin of a lupine-like animal with demonic features, such as four eyes, an open mouth full of sharp teeth, and two horns on either side of its head.
The mystical tattoo covered much of her back and shoulders. It was the physical manifestation of her furious soul, which synergized with those beautiful, amethyst-like eyes. Glaring at her over her left shoulder, with the homicidal intent of a maniac.
“NO!”
Tristessa didn't know which of the three heroes screamed when Aurelia leaped, propelled by those hurricane-force winds. She turned in midair and prepared her glaive to strike her down and turn her head and the upper part of her body into a deformed amalgam of gore.
“Gaelyan Verill!”
Severus conjured a halo of non-elemental glyphs around Tristessa. The instant she threw herself to the side to dodge the warrior falling upon her like an angel banished from the heavens, she felt her body as light as a feather and as fast as a blink. She had traveled a longer distance than she imagined, far from the point of impact where the glaive sent stone and earth flying and the ground trembled like an earthquake.
“ATTACK ME, NOW!” the She-Dragoon roared, drawing her saber from the small crater at her feet, her eyes fixed on Tristessa. She bent her knees slightly before leaping once more toward her target like a wolf hunting its prey. “SHOW ME EVERYTHING YOU’VE GOT, STRANGER!”
“Damn it!” With record speed, Tristessa searched deep within herself for the presence that had saved her life and that she would need to do so again. She screamed her name once more, summoning her from the core of her soul and opening the gates of Discord that flowed from the infinity of the Abyss. “Dullahan!”
Shadows enveloped Tristessa, and the dark knightess emerged from them, armed and ready to defend her summoner from Aurelia's attack. The clash of weapons unleashed a divine gale, which the Dullahan herself blocked, preventing the gray-eyed girl from being pushed back.
Now that she no longer had to divide her efforts protecting her head, the Nemesis could use both hands to wield her sword and defend herself with ease. Meanwhile, her rival twirled her glaive with upward swings, dodged to avoid most encounters with the black blade, and successive thrusts that caused the Dullahan to move from side to side or retreat.
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And Tristessa saw something strange and alarming about the Dullahan: she seemed to be weaker than when she had hunted her now-summoner across space and time. She didn't move around the battlefield on her now vanished spectral steed; she didn't use thaumaturgy, nor did she seem to radiate that aura of terror that froze the courage and determination of her enemies.
“It seems that now she truly is an extension of my soul; weaker and without any of her original abilities. Starting from scratch. This new Divinity…” Tristessa felt and saw the connection with the Dullahan, intangible yet present, invisible to foreign eyes. Her union with the one who had been her mortal enemy, her very being. Overflowing with the essence of mutual cooperation between the Aspects of Power and Death. “[Divinity of Nemesian Summoning].”
With that thought, the young woman watched that deadly dance at high speed in which Aurelia continued to bleed profusely from the injury located at the height of her sternum and the upper part of her right breast.
“Hngh!” She growled, trying to pierce the Dullahan's simple yet swift guard with thrusts that not even grazed her. “How did you hide such an ability from me, you little bitch?! Ngh, damn it all!”
Spitting blood with each gasp of air before attacking again; enduring waves of immeasurable pain each time she was forced to retreat and spin her glaive, trying to confuse her opponent.
Growing slower, more vulnerable, just like her rivals. Much blood had already been spilled on both sides, but neither had yet fallen into Death's arms.
But in the angry winds engulfing the courtyard, one could feel the imperishable shadow of doom drawing ever closer. And with it, the end of the duel.
“…!”
Suddenly, Tristessa felt as if a storm of invisible swords had pierced her from every direction; she placed her hands over her heart, with a delusional hope that it would somehow quell the inhuman suffering that surged within her.
“Ugh! It hurts…! Damn it, it hurts, it hurts, IT HURTS!”
Tristessa sobbed, then her wails turned into screams. The torture was akin to something inside her seizing every strand of muscle and pulling in opposite directions, making her tendons feel as though they were about to be ripped from both bone and flesh. Her soul was being mercilessly crushed; the high price of her new-found Divinity translated into an agony that permeated both the spiritual and physical realms.
“I-I can’t…!”
When she felt her body and soul about to shatter into a hundred pieces, Tristessa closed those black metal, adamantine gates of her soul, and the flow of Discord ceased right away. The Dullahan and the shadows surrounding her vanished, leaving her at the mercy of the weakened woman with black and blue hair.
“DIE, IRANDELL…!”
“No one will die today, milady!”
Astoria blocked that attack, which should have been a direct downward slash to Tristessa's head, by raising her greatsword horizontally and absorbing the impact of the blade.
Having arrived just in time, she roared with force to push Aurelia's saber aside.
“Are you alright?!” the wounded knightess asked Tristessa, exhaustion etched on her face and evident in her red eyes.
“I-I… Watch out!”
It was Astoria's turn to block Aurelia's blows. Like at the start of the duel, with the added complication that both women were in deplorable physical condition. Only Astoria had a slight advantage showed in her white armor, though it was damaged in several places, especially on the destroyed pauldron and the right side that protected her torso and had taken the blow from the very same saber she now had to keep away from Tristessa.
At the same time, shielding himself from the wind with his own arms, Auron was dragging his legs and breathing hard, making his way toward Severus. The elf was battling both his own wounds and the exhaustion from having expended a dangerous amount of magical power, and he was clinging to one of the metal beams of the execution platform.
“Uncle Severus! Are you alright?!” Lucahn shouted from above, and indirectly giving the elf the determination not to give up for even a second.
“Be a good boy and don't stray from your parents, okay?!” He roared back, and from above he also heard Vergil's growl. “You behave yourself too!”
Severus closed his eyes and sighed, feeling the tingle of thousands of knives plunging into his lateral, where he surely had more than one broken rib. When he opened them, he found himself next to the gunslinger's dirty, tired face, his handkerchief soaked with perspiration.
“You took your sweet time.”
“Come on, you two-bit thaumaturge. We must put an end to this...” He helped the elf by supporting some of his weight so he wouldn't have to rely on the beams. This allowed Severus to rummage in his trouser pockets and pull out one of the spirit potions he had crafted. Every flask was broken, their contents spilled, and only a few drops had survived the cross-contamination at the bottom of one. "Can you do any more magic with that?"
“I think I can cast one more spell, and it will be the only opportunity left for me,” Severus replied, swallowing that meager dose to stimulate his magical abilities. “When Astoria reaches her limit, I’ll hand Eramisaptor to you on a silver platter. I hope you don’t waste it, you failed gunslinger.”
“Hehe… I won’t.”
The two men began to advance against the storm that flowed from Aurelia’s Divinity, out of control and ready to erode everything in its path. The tempest was so strong that they could barely take more than a few steps at a time. Let alone Tristessa, standing near the source of all those airstreams: she shielded herself with both arms and tried not to lose sight of Astoria, who was not only dodging Aurelia’s attacks but also fighting against her Divinity, which sought to push her and make her lose her balance.
Aurelia couldn't make any movements that shifted her body laterally, forcing her to rely more on thrusting attacks. Every slightest movement to the side unleashed a hellish frenzy in her bleeding chest, and everyone present knew it.
That's why Astoria was taken by surprise when the glaive’s blade went straight for her waist from the outside, forcing her to shift her guard to that side and brace for the impact that never came.
“Fucking Abyss!"” A feint, a deception that cost the She-Dragoon dearly, reflected in the grimace of agonizing pain and tears in her eyes. But it was all it took to catch the platinum-haired knightess off guard and use the opposite end of her Twilight of the Hand of Terror to strike her on the head. “URGH!”
“ASTORIA, NO!”
Tristessa cried out her name, despairing as she watched the metal base of the glaive strike Astoria above her right eyebrow, a visceral blow that made her stumble and drop her greatsword.
She couldn't see Astoria's eyes trying to roll upward, losing consciousness and with it, her chance of survival: once she hit the ground and there was nothing to protect her from the descent of Aurelia's weapon's blade straight to her heart…
“J-just one more time, Dullahan…!” Tristessa begged, but her Divinity didn't answer. The spiritual gates resisted; there was no flow of darkness. She could do nothing for Astoria. “…!”
“Grrrhh…!”
Auron and Severus were about to spring into action, but stopped at the last moment, surprised to see—along with Tristessa—Astoria grasp the bloodied metal staff with the hand on her injured arm and pull it back to stop her fall.
Fueled by her dreams, she planted her feet firmly on the ground and focused on what little magic power she had left, transformed by [Essential Dilution] into strength for her right leg.
“RIAAAAAAA!”
Unwavering hope shone in her steely gaze, determined to go to any lengths to defeat her enemy, she delivered Aurelia a direct front kick to the grievous wound.
And the She-Dragoon of End-World released a scream of searing agony.
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Round 2! Which of Tristessa's Divinities do you like the most?
