"So this is him," the woman murmured, her blackened eyes settling on Asuma as though she were examining a long-lost artifact. "The one who was hidden away from us."
Leon glanced between her and Asuma, unease creeping into his voice. "What is she talking about?"
"Another riddle I don't care to solve," Asuma snapped, stepping forward. Flames flickered faintly along the edge of his blade. "Move. Let us pass."
Tamina regarded him quietly, her expression unreadable. "And why would I do that?" she asked calmly. "Your presence here is a hindrance to us. I would rather not harm you, so—for your sake, and for the future of our kind—leave this city."
"Our kind?" Asuma's eyes narrowed. "Don't lump me in with you. I am nothing like you."
A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Ah... still unaware of who you are. How unfortunate." She tilted her head slightly. "But that truth is not mine to give."
Again.
Another demon dancing around the same question—what are you?
Amira raised her spear, lightning snapping violently along its shaft. "Who are you?" she demanded, voice sharp and unforgiving.
Tamina seemed to remember herself then. "Ah, how rude of me." She placed a hand over her chest in mock courtesy. "I am Tamina—Hand of the Apostle of Twilight."
Leon's breath caught. "Black Guild..."
"I see," Amira said coldly. "Then there's nothing left to discuss."
In a blur of motion, she hurled her spear straight at Tamina—lightning roaring as it tore through the air.
Zargan moved instantly.
The Shadowborn Knight intercepted the spear with his greatsword, batting it aside effortlessly. The weapon spun back toward Amira, who caught it midair without breaking eye contact.
Tamina sighed softly. "I offered you a chance to leave. Is it truly wise to refuse?" Her gaze never left Asuma. "I would rather not resort to violence against you."
Against me?
Asuma felt it then—her attention, deliberate and focused. She's here for me, he realized. And she doesn't want me dead.
Maybe... maybe this could be used.
"Then let us pass," Asuma said again, voice steady. "Whatever you're doing, it doesn't concern us."
"That," Tamina replied, her tone hardening for the first time, "is impossible."
She lifted her hand slightly, and the air itself seemed to tighten.
"The ritual has already begun. No one may interfere."
Leon's eyes widened. "Ritual? What ritual?!"
"Silence, human," Tamina snapped, her composure cracking. "I will not answer your questions."
There it was.
The mask slipping.
So this was her true nature.
"Asuma," Amira growled, lightning flaring brighter around her body. "I have no interest in negotiating with a demon."
Asuma swallowed, eyes fixed on Tamina.
She's still holding back, he realized. Even now.
And somehow, Amira—despite exhaustion, despite blood and battle—was still radiating terrifying amounts of aura beside him.
"Sigh... me neither," Leon muttered, rolling his shoulders as twin daggers slid into his palms. His stance lowered, eyes sharp and focused. "Looks like talking time's over."
"Seems we're all on the same page," Asuma replied, a faint, dangerous smile curling across his lips as his gaze locked onto Tamina. The air around him trembled subtly, heat bleeding into the cracked stone beneath his boots. "Guess we'll have to make our own path."
He shifted his grip on his sword, aura beginning to stir.
"I see," Tamina said calmly, though something cold flickered behind her blackened eyes. "So that is your decision." She raised a single finger and tilted it forward. "Then your comrades will die here."
At her command, Zargan stepped forward.
The Shadowborn Knight's presence alone crushed the air, his massive blade dragging against the stone as shadowy tendrils seeped from his armor. The ground beneath his feet groaned as he prepared to charge.
Then—
BOOM.
A colossal aura slammed down between both sides like a falling star.
The stone exploded outward in a spiderweb of cracks, dust and debris billowing skyward. The oppressive weight of raw power forced even Zargan to halt mid-step.
From the settling smoke emerged a familiar figure.
Denias stood tall, sword resting casually on his shoulder, his arrival having carved a shallow crater into the earth. His presence was calm—but terrifyingly absolute.
"Need a hand?" came his relaxed voice.
Asuma turned sharply.
Behind Denias, golden light caught the evening air as Princess Urialla Azel stepped forward, her flowing hair reflecting the dying sunlight like molten gold. Her gaze swept over the battlefield, sharp and calculating.
"...Of course you'd show up out of nowhere again," Asuma muttered.
She glanced at him, one brow lifting faintly. "Are you dissatisfied with my presence?"
"I'd rather you be somewhere safe," he replied honestly.
For a moment, she seemed genuinely taken aback—then she laughed softly, a sound utterly out of place amidst blood and ruin.
"Safe?" she echoed, amused. "I think you should be far more concerned about yourself." Her eyes shifted toward Tamina, narrowing slightly. "That demon addressed you... strangely. Enough to spark my interest."
Asuma felt his stomach tighten.
Damn it.
The last thing he needed was her digging into the Prince of Mercy business.
"You must've misheard, Princess," he said smoothly.
"Mm." Urialla smiled thinly. "Playing ignorant, then. Very well—I'll overlook it. For now."
She stepped past him, joining Denias at the front, her posture relaxed yet commanding.
Tamina watched the exchange silently, then exhaled slowly. "It seems another troublesome variable has entered the equation."
"I would appreciate it," Urialla replied coolly, her golden eyes glowing faintly, "if you refrained from destroying my city."
The atmosphere shifted.
Zargan's shadow writhed uneasily.
For the first time, Tamina's calm cracked just slightly. "...So the Dragon-Eyed Princess stands against us."
Urialla met her gaze without fear. "You've already crossed that line."
The ritual was still ongoing.
The city was burning.
And now—two unstoppable forces stood face to face, neither willing to retreat.