Regina stared at the sea of fire before them, its flickering light carving Baroness Hartford's silhouette into something almost divine—an effigy wrought from flame. The heat in the chamber pressed down on her like air from an open forge.

Everyone felt what they were facing.

An arch mage.

Regina's grip on her sabre faltered, but she caught herself, jaw tightening as she forced the tremor from her hand.

Skye moved first. Her crescent blades shimmered into being, and her form wavered, subtly misaligning with the world as if space itself refused to contain her. She tapped her heel against the floor once, then surged forward. Briana stepped in sync, falling naturally into their practised flanking formation.

Sir Leon seemed to hesitate a heartbeat longer, and Regina found herself sympathising with the man. To see one's betrothed suddenly standing in opposition like this would rattle anyone. Even more so when she wielded such overwhelming power. Nothing Regina had ever heard of Baroness Hartford hinted at strength like this, but there was no denying what she saw now.

Whether the Baroness was working with the empire's enemies or acting alone wasn't the immediate concern. The politics could come later. What mattered now was that she stood between them and their goal.

Regina inhaled slowly, channelling mana into her sabre. Shadows crawled up the blade, motes of darkness gathering in the air around her — some formed into spectral daggers, others coiling into wisps of magic, and still more condensed into the intricate core of a heavier spell.

By the time Sir Leon stirred, Skye and Briana were already closing in on the Baroness and the blazing barrier that split the chamber.

The Baroness didn't move. She stood still, calm, unhurried. Then something shimmered above her shoulder. A ripple of heated distortion unfurled upwards before slicing down towards the floor in a narrow arc.

Regina barely registered it before the space between Skye and the Baroness erupted.

There was no explosion. No sound. Just an instantaneous pressure as a filament of annihilating fire cut through the space. Skye twisted mid-motion, flipping aside, blades flashing. The flame bent after her. One crescent blade intercepted it — and melted instantly, dripping away like molten glass.

Regina's eyes widened.

Skye didn't falter. Her remaining blade slashed at empty air towards the Baroness, then, just as the flame closed in, she vanished in a glimmer of white and reappeared several metres back at her starting point. Another heel tap, and a new blade shimmered into her grasp as she lunged forward again.

Baroness Hartford showed no surprise. Her gaze shifted to Briana instead, just as the Oathbound knight's glowing sword swept in from the side, trailing arcs of frost that etched the floor and air alike.

The Baroness raised one hand. The frost froze in place, and Briana's sword met a wall of roaring fire. The knight retreated several paces, shielding her face from the heat.

A faint glimmer sparked where Skye's earlier strike had cut. An attack materialised and slashed through the air towards the Baroness' flank like an echo of the blow pulled through time. But before it struck, the woman dissolved into a swirl of mist and reappeared several steps beyond the flames.

Her expression never shifted. Her eyes returned to Skye, though now there was something different in her gaze that Regina couldn't quite interpret.

"I see. A Bladewalker, is it?" the Baroness said. "Or, at this stage…a Severance Duelist."

For just a breath, Skye froze. Regina did too. No one had ever recognised Skye's art before — not once. Yet the Baroness had named it with a glance.

In the pause that followed, Briana attacked again. The Baroness flicked her wrist, and the fireline blazed brighter. A cage of flame siphoned from it to surround Briana, forcing her back, trapped.

That was when Sir Leon finally moved.

A golden aura flared around him like wings of light. He charged forward, sword glowing with brilliant energy. As he neared the first wave of fire, he brought his blade down, and a lance of light sped towards the Baroness.

An inferno met it head-on, a screaming surge summoned from the sea of fire still enveloping the chamber behind her. Steel and flame collided in a deafening shockwave that rocked the space.

When the smoke cleared, the Baroness still hadn't moved.

"Scarlett!" Sir Leon shouted over the roar. "You don't have to do this! Just stop — don't make us hurt you!"

The Baroness regarded him in silence before shaking her head.

"I had considered telling you something similar," she replied evenly. "But I do not believe this can end without me hurting you."

"Scarlett!"

A sphere of radiant light exploded from Sir Leon, extinguishing the flames near him.

From the rear, Regina unleashed one of her prepared spells. A swarm of Shadelock Bolts streaked across the chamber, dark daggers slicing towards the Baroness.

Flame and water answered. Shields of both elements snapped into existence, deflecting every bolt. Then a massive serpent of water and fire rose from the floor, slamming into Sir Leon's path. He met it, golden barriers flaring — but the blow still hurled him backwards.

Regina's gaze darted to Skye, who had moved to Briana's side, trying to break the Oathknight free. Even Briana's frosted blows couldn't cut through the flame cage, which seemed to continuously feed on the Baroness' magic.

Then Skye's form flickered, turning muted and becoming harder to track. She crossed both blades, slashing the air. The flames shuddered, then vanished long enough for Briana to burst through. As the cage reignited, Briana stepped in front of Skye, her blade radiating both azure power and frost, russet hair whipping in the wind of her aura.

But Skye no longer moved. She stood completely exposed.

Regina bit the inside of her cheek. Skye was always careful about entering her Severance State. It cost her stamina and time. That she'd been forced to use it this early, merely to free Briana, was troubling.

A thunderous blast shook the chamber. Sir Leon was thrown back again, engulfed in steam and fire. He hit the ground hard, sliding across the stone, golden energy clinging to him in fractured shards. He coughed, dragged himself upright, and shot a quick glance towards Regina before fixing his glare on the Baroness.

The Baroness watched them all, but she wasn't pressing the attack.

That unsettled Regina most of all. It felt as though the woman was waiting for something.

She glanced back. Oveth lay motionless, having collapsed soon after the Baroness appeared despite the healing he'd received. Mel, too, was in no state to fight. She knelt frozen, trembling, whispering constantly to someone only she could hear. Her wide eyes never left the Baroness.

Something twisted inside Regina's chest. She didn't pretend to understand even a fraction of the pain Mel had lived through, and she admitted that the woman sometimes made her uncomfortable, but the fear now in her eyes was raw and unfiltered. For the Baroness to draw that kind of reaction…she must once have been someone of immense importance to Mel — or someone deeply terrifying.

Regina forced her attention back to her casting. The mana around her thickened with shadow and tension. The threat had to be dealt with.

As a member of the imperial family, it was her responsibility to confront any noble who abused their power. And as part of a party burdened with the fate of the empire, and perhaps the world, she couldn't afford to falter now.

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Her sabre—an artifact crafted by imperial masters and tuned for multicasting—glowed as threads of dark mana spiralled along its edge. A wave of shadow peeled off in a sweeping arc. Her Noctis Vect spell was slow but wide and disruptive, surging towards the Baroness like a blade of thickened night.

The Baroness answered by redirecting a column of flame. The two magics collided in a churning clash of dark and light, shadows boiling away as fire roared through them.

Regina didn't understand how the Baroness' fire consumed magical constructs so completely. She suspected it was more than mere elemental force, though the sheer potency of the flames surely played a part. Which meant it used a significant amount of mana. Even if they couldn't overpower her, they might outlast her.

As Noctis Vect burned away, Regina launched her next spell. Tenebral Chains rose from the floor like squirming strands of obsidian, coiling around the Baroness. The woman's response this time was a cone of resounding fire that burst from her, incinerating the chains before they could tighten.

But then Sir Leon struck. And Skye—recovered now—darted forward with Briana close behind.

Sir Leon led the charge, driving through the Baroness' flames with radiant slashes and bursts of near-divine aura. Briana flanked him, piercing the heat and forcing openings with every strike. Skye danced across the battlefield in flickers of light, her Severance techniques making her movements unpredictable enough that even the Baroness seemed to struggle to pin her down. Regina continued supporting them, weaving in spells as quickly as she could.

The Baroness never truly lost control, though. But she never landed a truly wounding blow either. Still, Regina couldn't shake the knot in her stomach — the sense that this was building towards something.

And yet, despite that gnawing doubt, she didn't let herself waver.

Especially with what she had been preparing.

One of her spells finally snapped into place. Its inner circuits spun closed, merging in a sharp pulse of energy. A line of black light traced itself along her sabre's length, ending at the tip where a darkly luminous rune blossomed. Mana drained from her in a rush that left her limbs faint and her breath sharp.

She rarely used this spell.

Not just because of its complexity. Not just because it skirted ethical lines when used on sentient minds. But because it didn't sit right with her. It felt invasive.

Even so, she didn't hesitate now.

As the dark rune on her sabre glowed a deep violet, she completed another cast of Tenebral Chains — not to bind, but to distract. The moment the chains reached for the Baroness and were repelled, a crown of shadow and spikes flickered into being, settling above the fiery circlet already on the woman's brow.

Midnight Diadem.

The crown descended and settled upon the Baroness' head.

Regina stepped forward, levelling her sabre with precise intent. Her eyes narrowed as she gave the command.

"Drop your weapon. Surrender."

The Baroness froze.

And so did the chamber.

The flames scattered across the battlefield wavered, then stilled. In the silence that followed, a hush of pressure swept the air, as though the entire room had drawn a single, suspended breath.

Midnight Diadem was Regina's strongest spell. While it wasn't true mind control, it was a powerful intrusion that could momentarily override will when perfectly timed. The seconds, or even minutes, it could buy were invaluable.

Skye was already moving to exploit the opening. Briana too, and Sir Leon, though he seemed to hesitate a moment longer.

This should be enough—

The Baroness' gaze snapped towards Regina.

Their eyes met.

Regina's breath caught at the anger she saw there.

The shadow crown shattered.

The Baroness vanished into mist, reappearing a dozen metres away, well beyond the converging trio.

The woman looked them all over. "…That will do. I have wasted enough mana, and I now have a sufficient understanding of your levels." Her voice had turned cold. "I am ending this."

She raised a hand.

The flaming crown upon her brow flared white-hot. The chamber's heat surged past unbearable. The very air trembled, warping under the pressure.

Then the sea of fire behind her shifted.

It didn't rage. It didn't flicker. It collapsed inward, compressing into something impossibly pure — flame reduced to its most fundamental form.

No longer just a natural force.

Like a candle lit by a god.

It became a smooth, symmetrical blaze, its centre a pale, colourless void that radiated outward into shimmering orange, molten gold, then a final colour Regina couldn't describe.

It moved.

For a single, dreadful second, the entire chamber was swallowed by incandescent light. It wasn't just heat anymore. It was a blinding force that pressed against the soul, folding thought and bleeding mana from the marrow.

Then came the strike.

Countless arcs of fire burst from the central blaze, cutting across the room with impossible precision. Each curved mid-air in perfect unison, each finding its mark.

Regina had no time to cast.

A lance of multicoloured flame tore towards her. Her vision vanished in spiralling fire as it sealed her inside a sphere of burning light.

Air dissolved. Mana drained. Her barrier shattered. She dropped to her knees, choking as her lungs filled with fever instead of breath.

The flames didn't lash or whip. They simply persisted, utterly controlled.

Next, her skin screamed. Her thoughts scattered. Half-formed words slipped from her lips and were lost in the fire. Darkness crept in at the edges of her sight, thickening fast. She felt her grip on everything loosen. Her cheek touched stone, now glowing red-hot, but somehow that didn't burn.

The fire receded. Through dim, fractured vision, she saw the chamber return in warped shades of red. Other spheres of fire hovered, then faded — revealing bodies.

Skye—she thought it was Skye—was crumpled nearby, unmoving.

And standing above Skye—

Baroness Hartford.

A spike of panic twisted through Regina's failing thoughts, an instinct to move. To act. But her body wouldn't respond. Through the haze, the Baroness looked distant and unreal, her face tinted deep crimson by the cooling crown on her brow, eyes fixed on the still form at her feet.

Regina strained to move her hand. Her fingers.

Nothing.

Her lungs tried one last shallow pull.

Her eyelids sagged.

All she could do was watch as the Baroness stood over Skye, silent.

Then the darkness closed in completely, and everything vanished.

Smoke and heat curled around Scarlett's legs as the last embers of her flames faded and she forcibly cooled the chamber. Her gaze stayed on the figure before her, while the others lay sprawled across the floor, breathing shallowly. Alive, though barely.

A single flicker of flame hovered by her shoulder, casting slow-turning shadows across the blackened stone. To her left, a quest completion notification blinked beside a new window, but she deliberately ignored them. If she looked, she suspected she might try to tear them from the air.

She studied the young woman at her feet. Studied her short, dark hair, damp with sweat. The faint freckles across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. The small scar tracing her jawline.

The face of this world's system-designated 'hero'.

And the face of her own family.

Inside, a cold, twisted anger refused to fade.

She didn't know what she had expected. What she thought she might get from the force that built this world, shaped its laws, and tethered her to a system that expected her to perform, to comply, to play the role assigned to her. A force like that wouldn't have morals. It didn't need reason. And if it had brought her here, why would it hesitate to bring her younger sister as well?

Was this some kind of punishment? A personal grudge against Amy Bernal? Retribution for something she didn't even know she'd done? Or was the force behind it simply that indifferent? That cruel?

It didn't matter.

Skyler was here. Had been, for months at least.

And now Scarlett had just been the one to beat her unconscious.

That deepened the anger. Almost as much as the moment she'd first seen her sister and had to pretend she didn't recognise her.

A soft sound broke through the air, like a whisper breaking.

Scarlett didn't react at first, but it came again — quieter, as though the speaker didn't believe she had the right to speak.

Finally, Scarlett looked up.

The Countess sat slumped on a patch of unburnt stone, robes dishevelled, bandages clinging to sweat-slick skin. Her eyes were too wide. Her mouth worked silently as she stared at Scarlett, struggling with words that wouldn't take shape. She muttered something, an unformed prayer or plea or memory she couldn't voice.

Scarlett watched her for several long seconds.

Then turned her gaze to the side.

[Side quest completed: A Hero's Gauntlet] [Reward: Continuation of your plans]

[Side questline: A Hero's Rival] {The Hero was defeated and left unconscious by the villainous Scarlett Hartford, without a chance for retaliation. Will this loss crush the Hero's spirit, or ignite something new? Growth, defiance, a rematch…} [Objective: Do not reveal yourself] [Reward: The Hero's growth] [Failure: The Hero's demise]

Scarlett sighed and stepped past Skyler, walking towards the Countess. The woman flinched, blinking rapidly, her muttering slowing.

When Scarlett spoke, the sharp, commanding edge from the battle was gone. What remained was just tired resignation.

"I am glad that you are alive, Countess."

The muttering stopped entirely.

Scarlett halted a few paces away.

"…I am sorry for what happened," she said. "I did not know what Ridley planned. I never intended that — though I accept responsibility."

The Countess didn't reply, but her head shifted slightly. The fear was still there, rough and plain, yet something in the silence had changed.

"He is dead now," Scarlett continued. "I killed him. Once I found out."

The Countess' lips parted.

Scarlett's gaze dropped, then rose again. "I am glad you found people. People who seem willing to accept you. I hope they continue to. And though it may be greedy of me…" Her eyes turned back to Skyler. "…I would ask that you protect her."

There was a pause.

Then the Countess—or Melody, as she was called now—spoke, her voice faint. "I… I will."

Scarlett looked at her, then smiled, just slightly. "You have my thanks." She turned away. "I suggest you bring them to a higher floor, though wait with the healing potions. It will be safer. I also have something for you. A gift. But you will have to wait for it." She hesitated. "I will see that it reaches you."

She had the time to make one extra stop to one of the middle levels.

Behind her, Melody called out—sounding hoarse, confused, and almost pleading now—but Scarlett didn't turn back.

She raised her hand. The [Eternal Flameweaver's Athame] flared, and she carved a line through the air.

A flaming portal tore open in front of her.

She cast one last look over the people strewn across the chamber — the princess, Leon, Briana Smythe, Ovethatake, and finally Skyler.

Then, without another word, she stepped through and left them behind.

That was enough from Scarlett Hartford, Third-rate Villainess.

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