"The Twins… They're beautiful."

Helping the spiritually exhausted Reiden walk upright, Tristessa looked at him with an amused smile. Yes, in the high heavens, those two stars shone so brightly that they mitigated some of the absolute darkness of the night, making the abandoned Meridion Highway a more friendly path to travel.

"What's the reason for that comment?" she asked, shifting her numb shoulders a little, which, along with her neck, were supporting some of the mercenary's weight. His right arm was heavy, mostly due to the steel plates that served as partial protection.

"I just wanted to say something. The first thing that came to mind… I'm embarrassed," he confessed, a clear hint of fatigue in his voice. His breathing was a little labored, and Tristessa could sense from his movements that he was struggling not to drag his legs. "My Divinity didn't wear me down so much before. Age hurts."

"Well, luckily for you here's a foolish and deluded young gal willing to help you." Motivated, she strengthened her back and hugged him under the armpit with her left arm to support even more weight. "I have to thank you for saving my life, somehow."

"…It can't be easy to live like that. By using your Divinity and having a dark being like that torment you at nightfall."

She decided to nod silently, allowing Reiden to keep that misunderstanding. After all, talking about the Dullahan and the Baptism in Ruins would only generate more questions and few answers.

Answers that under no circumstances could relate to her [Divinity of Death and Resurrection].

"…" Tristessa heard Reiden sigh. Tired, exhausted. He looked toward the few remaining trees around him, ahead of him making way for the wasteland where the Derelict Outpost was strategically located. "That dagger that you carry… Have you ever used it?"

"Ah… Well…"

Tristessa had tried hard not to think about that since she came back to life for the sixth time.

She couldn't do anything about it because she was using them to hold Reiden, but her hands felt strange now, perhaps because she was influenced by the question. Her fingertips felt hot, as if the blood was rushing so fast it pooled at the tip before returning the other way.

Those hands had killed a person who was now, in this new timeline, alive. A paradox that hasn't taken away the stain upon her soul… That feeling that had let her brandish the knife, plunge it into her flesh, feel the life ebb away beneath her fingers…

A terrifyingly familiar sensation, and one that, for some reason, recalled a rebellious mental image of that severed head of a stuffed bunny she had over the nightstand, in her room.

"Did I…kill someone before arriving on Nekrom?" she wondered, though upon further reflection, it was a pretty stupid idea. "No, it can't be. I'm sixteen, who could I have killed? And still be free, at large? No… No, it's Mom who committed a crime and was locked up. I was complaining about a shitty week before being summoned to this world… If I became a murderer, it was in the last timeline."

Luckily, her thoughts were something only she and the dark Gods who watched over the world could hear. She couldn't express her fears to Reiden, but she could be honest with him to a degree that didn't involve a temporal contradiction.

And therefore, a Gradient of Madness.

"Yes. I killed someone…" she said finally, clearing that bubble of heavy, noxious air from her chest. It felt horrible, unpleasant, yet liberating. "I had no other choice."

"…" It took Reiden a while to say anything again. Strangely, his focus wasn't devoted to his conversation with her in its entirety. Something around him was disturbing him. "I'll rephrase the question: do you know how to use it?"

"N-no, I don't, really."

"Very well." Suddenly, Reiden slipped from the girl's grasp, surprising her. Still looking around as if searching for something in the darkness among the trees, he said, "We're not alone here. You must run. Now."

"…!"

Tristessa forgot how to speak. How to articulate a single word so Reiden could repeat what he just said. The syllables were trapped inside her mouth and couldn't come out.

Words had power, since they managed to turn the trees and the darkness of the night into terrifying enemies. Paranoia injected directly into her system, making her eyes dart around in every direction. Trying to find signs of danger, one worse than the other within her unstoppable imagination.

The fear that they were women wearing ragged clothes, their malicious laughter shattering the stillness of the night… That the laughter of their evil commander, reaching her ears from the unknown darkness.

But no. This was a different kind of danger, though no less so than the witches of the Coven.

"You two, stop right there!" Reiden had drawn both his weapons and, with his guard up, shielded Tristessa from two individuals who had emerged from the trees behind them. "I'm a mercenary from the Fireclaw Company! Identify yourselves!"

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These two were men, dressed from head to toe in black rags in terrible condition, tattered and torn by being at the mercy of nature. Their faces were covered so that only their eyes were exposed, and they were armed with daggers whose blades were rusted, dulled… and covered in dried blood.

Neither of them spoke a word. They stood there, blocking the road.

"I said identify yourselves!" Reiden spat, then quickly said to Tristessa in a low voice. "They're bandits. Get lost. You'll wish you were dead if they catch you."

"B-but Reiden!"

"It's not just them, there are more lurking in the dark! Go, now!"

Tristessa didn't want to leave, but her shaky legs took several steps back, ignoring her wish. She didn't want to abandon that veteran, who had pushed his weary spirit to the limit so she could survive…

Someone who, despite his years of experience, might possibly fall fighting not two bandits, but four, as two more had emerged from the trees once Tristessa had gotten far enough away, surrounding him on all four sides to make any escape route impossible.

"Shit… Shit!" She needed to get to the Outpost and call for help. The ancient structure was visible, but too far away… An infinite distance, made illusory by fear. "Hang on, Reiden!"

"Why are you in such a hurry?" A fifth individual made himself known, his presence static in the shadows but never hidden at all: all this time, he had been leaning against a tree, arms crossed, waiting for Tristessa to walk past him. "Stay a while, please."

"Tristessa!"

Reiden's shout showed concern for her, as if the four bandits surrounding him weren't the real problem there.

Tristessa trembled like a leaf trapped by the winds of a storm. She hadn't seen that bandit at any point; his stealth was frightening. Now she had no choice but to slowly turn around and see who the man was, dressed in a dark, thick cloth tunic, with hardwood arm and leg protectors for maximum mobility.

"Miss, you came out of the forest in the company of that old fart who can barely walk… I'm jealous, won't deny it," the man lamented, sighing, causing his henchmen to chuckle. "You're a beautiful girl. What are you doing with a guy like that?"

The man had two daggers sheathed at the ends of his waist. As he lowered his hood, the moonlight allowed Tristessa to see his wild black hair, dark eyes with circles below, and a manly smile with a certain appeal that gave him just the right touch of charisma.

"K-Katriel Strauss?" she asked, her disbelief evident in her voice.

"Well, it seems my reputation precedes me! Did you hear that, guys?" he asked aloud. He was none other than the leader of the Ghost Daggers, the group of criminals who had been destroyed by Astoria Silverthorn in the previous loop. "I seem to be popular with the girls, who would have thought!"

The bandits laughed out loud along with their leader, while Tristessa felt like her world was crumbling around her.

She had made a fatal mistake.

"How could I have forgotten about these guys?! It was obvious they were around here; they stole all the belongings from the caravan!" she screamed in the back of her mind, cursing herself for being so absent-minded. "How stupid!"

She had focused so much on the Coven and the Dullahan that the Ghost Daggers were a dusty photo album left in an abandoned shelf of her mind palace. Not even replaying the scenes of Astoria fighting them had served as a warning; not even her memory of using her [Divinity of Accursed Existence] on that same man did the work.

Now… Katriel Strauss and her gang were in front of her. They'd surrounded them, and there was nowhere to run.

"Let her go! Are you listening to me?!" Reiden yelled at Katriel, driven by his desperation to dare take several steps forward, but the two bandits intercepted him, threatening him with their daggers, but still not attacking. "Get out of my way!"

Reiden couldn't even use his Divinity to become one with the shadows and use swift stealth to outwit those men. And it seemed they knew they had the advantage over him, given his obvious physical fatigue.

"Shut your mouth, geezer. You have bigger problems here, with us," one of the two bandits told him.

"And you better watch your back," another added, behind him. "At times like these you wish you have one of those fucking cursed eyes those crazy bitches of the Coven have in their hands."

Tristessa only caught for a second a glimpse of Reiden's furious, desperate gaze, before seeing him lunge at the bandits, brandishing his sword and parrying-dagger.

"Hey you, don't worry: my boys won't kill him. A dead body has no use as a hostage, after all… While they play, you're going to spend time with me, right? Or is it…" Katriel's smile faded, slowly turning into a grimace worthy of the kind of person he was: a ruthless killer. "…that you aren't interested in playing with me? Would you rather I go have fun with the folks there, in the ruins?"

The bandit pointed in Tristessa's direction, past her. Toward the Derelict Outpost. And just hearing him hint at such vile intentions, imagining the faces of the Mercer-Archeos and the mercenaries laughing or listening intently to some anecdote from Madame Luchie, Tristessa made another kind of mistake.

Acting without thinking.

"No… No, you won't! I won't let you!" she exclaimed, feeling her blood boiling with fury, forcing her to grasp the hilt of her hunting knife and draw it. She clumsily aimed at Katriel, her lack of skill reflected in her inability to hold her grip steady, but with reckless determination. "I WON'T LET YOU GET ANYWHERE NEAR THEM!"

For a moment, the bandit was speechless with surprise. Perhaps he hadn't expected such a reaction from this girl driven by her emotions… A reaction that brought a smile back to his face. Not one of mockery, but of excitement.

"Well, well! The puppy has a fang! Does she know how to bite, or is it just for show?" Laughing with amusement, Katriel Strauss of the Ghost Daggers drew his two iconic weapons, blades made of a dark material, a mineral similar to onyx. Sharp and dangerous in the wrong hands, like that criminal's. "You know, there's something I like more than women. And no, not soul jewels… It's the thrill of combat."

The night wind cooled Tristessa's head a little, forcing her to think, even for a second, and consider the situation she was in.

Reiden was fighting—defending himself, more than anything—against four opponents, and in front of her was a man who had killed who knows how many people with the very weapons he clutched in his hands.

She had just signed her Death warrant, and the worst part was that Katriel Strauss knew it too, since he only needed a quick glance to understand what kind of pathetic opponent he was facing.

"You have no idea how to use a dagger, do you? Don't worry: I'll teach you."

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