The burn that tore through him wasn't new, it was familiar, agonizingly so. It reminded him of that day, when his body melted under her runes. The same fire, the same crawling pain that crept through his veins and bones.

Aisha's hands, caressed his arm as if soothing him, only to still it, freezing his body mid-swing before he could throw his dagger. The touch seared him, locking every muscle. His breath caught in his throat.

But this time, it wasn't the pain of betrayal.

It was the pain of fighting back.

The runes carved over his healed welts of scars, the ones the sixth princess had sealed, lit up again, crawling across his skin like wildfire. They bled light, fighting against Aisha's. Her mana coiled around him like frost, while his flared like embers, the two forces biting and tearing at each other.

He remembered Lenko's warning, whispered just days ago…

"Don't ever let anyone cast mana runes on you, not even for healing. You'll tear apart from the inside."

And Lenko had been right. Muzio's body, his now body, rejected Aisha's mana like poison. Their mana collided, grinding against one another until a violent flash exploded between them, swallowing their vision in white.

Before the world went blind, he caught a glimpse of Yona.

She was kneeling, half-trapped beneath molten cage metal that had fused to her leg, the blue runes carved along its surface pulsing like veins. Her body was shrouded in purple fire, burning through the tide of undead that clawed toward her. Her foxfire ears flattened in fury as she snarled through her teeth.

"Come on, you rotting bastards---!"

She hurled both her short blades in opposite arcs.

One spun toward the dragon child, who was struggling, snarling, her red hair blazing as Mr. Genevra, his body now little more than a puppet, yanked at it mercilessly. Smoke rose from his hands where her burning strands scorched him, but he didn't flinch. His empty crazy eyes, no longer his own, stared without feeling.

Yona's first blade sliced through him, catching him and the crawling beasts around him in a sweep of purple flame. They fell, burning to their second death.

The other blade arced toward them, no----towards him.

Aisha's smaller frame had slithered up against his back, her voice a whisper that chilled his spine.

"…Got you," she breathed, her breath cold against his ear.

And that's when their mana clashed again, his fire and her frost, burning and freezing in the same breath.

But even in the chaos, he met Yona's eyes, that same look she gave him in Hinnom, sharp, deliberate, commanding.

Her mouth moved.

"Move, idiot."

Then everything vanished in the flash.

The world turned blindingly. White.

He heard muffled grunts, steel scraping, and Aisha's sharp hiss of surprise as their mana recoil struck her. The shock burned into his memory like the runes on his skin. He forced his body to move, his limbs screaming, but the paralysis began to crack.

The heat beneath his skin surged. His runes flared brighter.

"…this is bullshit," he rasped.

His hand twitched, and the dagger he'd meant to throw earlier slipped free. A sharp impact hit his palm, the hilt of Yona's short blade, fitting perfectly into his grip. The smaller hilt bit through the broken shaft of the arrow still embedded in his hand. The pain was blinding, but pain meant he was alive.

"…shit," he muttered under his breath.

The impact slammed into him, dragging his body sideways in a violent jolt across the ground. His boots scraped, his shoulder twisted, as pain flared. The momentum shook Aisha's touch completely off him, her fingers slipping away as his body twisted with the force.

Her small frame stumbled with the recoil, the sharp edge of panic cutting through her breath.

"You---damn it---!" she shouted, voice cracking between fury and disbelief.

His breath returned in a rush, burning and ragged. His limbs screamed, but he could move.

He wasn't frozen anymore.

He didn't waste it.

He ducked, a final shake freeing him from her hold. With his other hand still on the pouch, he scraped his fingers across the ground. Through the ash and debris, he felt the leather burn of his dagger, the one he had dropped earlier.

Curling his fingers around the dagger's hilt, he steadied his breath as the air hummed with the lingering mana clash. His skin stung and the runes on his body burned faintly, but he was free and armed once more despite his blindness.

As he gripped the dagger, the pull of Yona's blade still tugged faintly at his other hand. His muscles ached from the strain, but the distance had bought him time, enough to put space between himself and Aisha.

His vision was still blurred, the world swimming in a haze of light and smoke. The glare wasn't as blinding now, he could make out the faint shimmer of Yona's purple fire still licking along the edge of the short blade in his hand. The heat of it pulsed against his skin, mingling with the lingering sting of mana still crackling in the air.

Keiser's gaze flicked to the side, searching through the haze. The dragon child was fine, though dazed. The flash must have blinded her too, he couldn't tell how long it had lasted, only that the air still shimmered with the afterglow. But it dulled enough for shapes to re-form.

Mr. Genevra's body lay crumpled a few paces away, motionless, while the dragon child knelt beside Lenko's form, one trembling hand pressed against her head, the other gripping Lenko's arm as if refusing to let go.

A flare of purple light caught his eye. Yona burned like a torch, her purple fire licking the molten metal that had fused to her leg. The runes stamped into the cage metal hissed and cracked as the heat turned them to slag.

She moved with that fierce, precise rhythm he knew too well, short blade in one hand, the other slicing down the last few staggered undead. Most of the corpses staggered blindly, Aisha was probably still blinded from the clash, her link to them was also disoriented.

Through the wavering brightness, he caught sight of someone struggling to stand. Blonde hair, wild and matted with mana, Aisha. Even through the ringing in his ears, he could hear her voice, sharp and ragged with fury.

"You're dead. You are so dead…"

Her tone was almost hysterical, nothing like the calm cruelty she wielded during the trials, or the cold precision she had when torturing assassins sent after him. This was different. This was desperation.

"I'll burn you," she hissed, her voice shaking. "I'll burn you like the beast you are."

Keiser rose slowly, breath dragging through his throat in hoarse gasps. His eyes burned, but through the haze of mana he could finally see her, half-crouched, trembling, her own hands wreathed in blue.

"Yeah?" he rasped, his voice low but steady. He forced his shoulders straight, his stance sure despite the pain crawling through his limbs. "Then I'll make sure I burn you with me."

He crouched again, sliding one foot back for balance. Both blades were in his hands now, Yona's short blade pulsing with a faint violet glow in his right, his own dagger thrumming red in his left. With each breath, the runes etched across his arms and neck flared brighter, responding to the surging mana within him.

"Come on, Aisha…" he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing. "Round two."

He didn't know when or why Aisha's hatred toward Muzio had become so visceral. It was more than hostility, it was almost personal. Yet, strangely, she wasn't even trying to reach the objective he thought she was after, the dragon child.

'Why was she working for a foreign noble at all? Why hide under her academy number, Seventh? And what in the hell was Gideon really planning through her?'

Keiser's jaw tightened. He knew Aisha, her precision, her control, her cold logic. During the trials, she'd proven herself again and again, every runes measured, every sigils flawless.

But this… this wasn't the same woman. She looked frayed at the edges, unbalanced, her mana wild and unpredictable.

He realized then, he'd never actually seen her mana before, he wasn't able to. He'd only seen what she wanted him to see.

In battle, after battle. Even during the quieter moments, when they'd sat shoulder to shoulder waiting for the next bloodbath, laughing in the dark like fools who thought they'd already won the world.

Back then, when he was Sir Keiser, the chosen candidate for the next King, and they were his loyal faction.

He knew they'd betrayed him. He'd accepted it, even. But standing here now, facing her again, the sting wasn't from betrayal. It was from the dissonance, the realization that the woman in front of him was nothing like the one in his memory.

It made him wonder which version had ever been real.

Were those memories truth, or just the image they'd crafted for him to trust?

He didn't have time to find the answer, because that was the moment when…

A sharp pulse of pain shot up his wrist, drawing his gaze down for a fleeting moment. Even through the blurriness, he could see the faint shimmer of the runic seal counting down along his skin.

His time.

Minutes had come and gone.

Now only ninety seconds remained before his heart would stop, before the curse bound to the sixth princess' bargain claimed him too.

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