Upon regaining full use of his feet, which were intact but suffering of sequels regarding perception of psychological pain, Severus stood up and took his belongings from Tristessa's hands.

"Don't think that thanks to Miss Prodigy I've forgotten about your three Divinities," he warned her, in a whisper near her right ear that sent pleasant shivers down her spine. He gestured with his head for her to follow him before continuing his interrogation. "I've never met anyone with three blessings. Are they...from the three Gods?"

"No, not at all. Two from Kantrus and one from Xiliarra," she replied, fast to get that idea out of Severus's head as quickly as possible, while making a great effort not to push people as she tried to keep up. "Where are we going?"

"There, no one will disturb us," Severus said as he left through the last row of trading stalls. Across the street, there was a small, almost dark tavern with a few occupied tables and a bar staffed by an elderly man in a suit and tie. "Two meads, please."

The elf placed the equivalent in soul-jewels on the bar and led Tristessa to the far end of the room, away from the gaze of the gloomy customers. They sat facing each other at a table against the wall, and Severus placed his cane and purchases at their feet.

His full attention was directed to the gray-eyed girl, who was gasping for air.

"You sure walk fast for someone whose feet were turned to stone by an illusion!" she complained.

"This isn't the first time someone's done something like this to me. Let's forget about Urias for a moment and get to the point: if we're going to work together, you have to inform me about things as important as your Divinities," he rebuked her. He was a little annoyed, and in a way, Tristessa understood his feelings. "That lack of knowledge between us is going to do more harm than good in our mission to save the Mercer-Archeos."

"I know, I know, I didn't get a chance to talk to you about my Divinities. I was busier trying to convince you not to crush me like a watermelon with your gravity thaumaturgy," she retorted.

"Water…melon?"

"No matter. If you want me to tell you about my Divinities and how I got into the city, I will."

In a few minutes, over a foul-tasting alcoholic beverage brought by the white-haired innkeeper, Tristessa detailed everything she had learned through Master Caius's services—obviously without mentioning her [Divinity of Death and Resurrection]— and then how she managed to enter Entrana through the sudden application of her [Divinity of Accursed Existence].

"…I understand. The rumors I heard about an undead at the south gate… It was you, with that Divinity, who brought that bandit back to life," the blood elf muttered to himself, his eyes darting around in the tavern's gloom, matching his speed of reasoning.

He glanced over his shoulder, in case anyone was listening, before returning to focus on his companion.

"If it weren't for the fact that you managed to enter the city without any legal document on hand, I wouldn't believe you. Who else did you talk about your Divinities?"

"No one. Only Master Caius and the rest of the Mystic Tattooists, once my name is written in their records. Oh, wait! That apprentice of his, Cyela, must also know about my skills," she replied, grimacing with irritation at the thought of that rude girl, and not helping matters by taking another sip of that badly brewed ale.

"I see… Anyway, I'm not too worried about that right now, to be honest. What I am worried about, a lot…" Severus's face darkened, symbolizing the fear of the unknown. "…is what you said about an armored demon stalking you in the night."

Tristessa nodded, the chill of her Baptism in Ruins still present between them, reveling in her constant torment. With discretion, she unbuttoned the top of her trench coat and exposed some of her cleavage, so Severus could see the whole network of black spider veins, and he leaned forward a bit to see, as surprised as he was horrified.

"By Kantrus…" he whispered, the fingers of his right-hand trembling, uncertain of reaching out or not.

"That foe is some kind of phantom made of Discord, and she's connected to this mark. I suspect it's an side-effect of one of my Divinities." Tristessa covered that Mark for Death again, breaking the elf's trance and causing him to let out a short cough, slightly flushed, and lean back in his chair. "When I slipped into the city, I discovered I can escape from her. If I had known earlier... That Dullahan wouldn't have..."

Tristessa didn't have the strength to delve deeper into the subject, still thinking about those mercenaries and their leader, massacred by her stupidity and cowardice.

"Dullahan... I've never heard that name before. We all know the intention was always to repel the Princess of Sin, but do you think the Evil-Warding Pillar worked on that phantasm?" Severus asked. "Do you think perhaps a thaumaturgical concealment spell could fool her?"

"I have no way of confirming those two theories, but I think we'll have no choice but to test them tonight," she warned him, feeling nerves beginning to twist in her stomach. "Unless you help me escape the city, the Dullahan will attack anyone who stands in her way towards me. I don't want…"

She sighed, guilt weighing deeply on her tormented soul.

"I don't want anyone else to die for me."

Even if she died and returned to the start of the loop, the Deaths of the innocent were going to leave scars in her spirit, weighing it down. Like a boulder she was being forced to carry up a hill and see it roll back to the base, to start again over and over forever, like Sisyphus.

"I-I…I don't…"

The blood elf shook her hand, letting her know she wasn't alone. A show of gratitude for the trust she was placing in him by revealing her secrets.

All of them, except one… One of fatal, maddening nature.

"Rest assured, you're not going anywhere. We must be smart and use the rest of the day to progress with our mission to save our friends; that's the most critical thing. And before nightfall…" Severus smiled with that ancient ferocity of his, which made him as beautiful as an angel, but as brutal as a demon. "I will use my thaumaturgy to welcome that Dullahan into my house as an honored guest."

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"N-no! You don't understand, Severus. She's very dangerous; she's already killed many people," Tristessa said, her voice tainted slightly by a desire to cry.

"I'm not underestimating the situation. I'm simply referring to the facts you're giving me. A phantom is an astral being, no matter how much armor it wears, and therefore there's nothing more powerful than thaumaturgy against that type of entity. Trust me, even the worst thaumaturge in the city knows how to take advantage of their enemies' natural disadvantages. It's all a matter of strategy."

Drinking from his beer mug, the elf was more than confident in his abilities, but it wasn't enough to calm Tristessa and her fear. She was going to agree with him about having to focus on one difficulty at a time: planning to save the Mercer-Archeos and repelling the Dullahan were mutually exclusive. They had to deal with them one at a time, or see their plans jeopardized.

"Let's move on to something else. You said something about a gunslinger helping you, didn't you?"

"Ah, yes… Auron Casimir. Damn, so much happened that I almost forgot about him…"

Forced to ignore her nerves brought on by the matter with the Dullahan, her voice now lowered as those brief moments she shared with that gunslinger returned to her.

The interest of that man in her that led him to help her, his passion for money, and the little company he was able to provide her before the Ghost Daggers gang arrived at the south gate.

"He seemed like a nice guy, I liked him," she replied, smiling as she remembered their conversations and playing soul-jewel passers between them as if they were bored children. "He said I seemed like a very eccentric person, and that was reason enough to catch his attention. Maybe because he's eccentric himself, with that handkerchief covering his nose and mouth. He never took it off; I don't know what his face looks like from the eyes down."

"Strange… But if a gunslinger lives in a tent by the city walls like a poor bastard, it must be someone who has fallen from grace," the elf opined, then took another sip from his jug. "Another one who must have surrendered on the way of becoming the [Gunslinger King]".

"Huh?"

Tristessa didn't understand anything Severus said, causing him to wave his hand as if swatting away a fly.

"Never mind, that's a different story altogether. Tell me, do you think he could be of help?" At the girl's frown, Severus got straight to the point. "I mean, do you see this Auron guy as an ally to go save the Mercer-Archeos?"

"Oh! I hadn't thought of that, what an idiot I am!" She exclaimed out loud, receiving a silent reprimand from the elf, as the rest of the tavern turned their attention to them. Tristessa lowered her head slightly before speaking again. "He might help us, but he'll probably ask for payment. I only have one GSL, I don't know if it'll be enough."

"Hand it over and leave the rest to me. I'll negotiate with him. After all, you can't risk trying to go through the south gate again."

"You're right."

Tristessa rummaged in her pockets and pulled out the last great soul-jewel Jin had given her. She handed it to Severus, who looked at it carefully before nodding in satisfaction and putting it away.

"And what about the Lady of the City? Can't we ask her for help?" Tristessa asked, continuing the train of thought about recruiting people for the cause.

She remembered with sorrow and pain the advice given her by the mercenary leader, Reiden Malak Invran, who had fallen at the hands of the Dullahan. Because of her and her stupidity.

"Absolutely not. Never. That's a very bad idea."

"Huh?! Rejected again!?"

Tristessa spoke louder than the discretion of that gloomy establishment required once again and even earned a disapproving look from the elderly innkeeper.

"Pardon... Why not, Severus?"

The elf shook his head, firm in his decision.

"First, Lady Eramisaptor must not know of your existence, otherwise your head will roll for having entered the city illegally. Second, I only spoke to her once, and it was like arguing with a brick wall capable of tearing your limbs off and forcing you to eat them. Not even information about the Coven will sway her judgment about banishing our friends, I assure you."

"Shit, what kind of woman is Aurelia Eramisaptor?" she thought, shoulders slumped in disappointment. "I'm sorry, Reiden..."

She'd wanted to use the advice of the leader of that group of the Fireclaw Company as a pathetic attempt at redemption for having caused his Death, and now that she couldn't, there was no way to rid herself of the guilt that gnawed at her from within.

She was going to have to live with it…

"Eramisaptor, ruled out. Is there anyone who you crossed paths here?" Severus asked, earning a questioning look from Tristessa. "I'm not just asking for potential recruitment, but to see if you didn't screw up and the authorities could come in at any moment to arrest us."

"Let's see… What about Higgs?"

"No. He will never risk leaving his flock abandoned."

"Well… Then it's Urias Janus. I ran into her when I visited the Evil-Warding Pillar. That bitch..." Tristessa snarled, furious at the senseless altercation minutes before. "She was very kind to me, gave me directions to the slums. I don't understand how she could be that way with you. I see that appearances can be deceiving."

"Indeed." Severus obviously didn't want to talk about what had happened, and Tristessa respected that. "Anyone else?"

The girl thought further back, her gray eyes widening as she realized she hadn't considered someone who had left a more than positive impression on her.

"She…!"

That knightess wearing white light armor and a black cloak. Skilled with her long sword, capable of defeating a group of bandits all by herself. And so beautiful... Her silvery-blond hair falling like a cascade of stars, and that cold yet fair face with red eyes, conveying a willingness to help anyone who reaches out in need.

"There's one more person who might help us. It's more of a gamble, but… I have faith she will help," Tristessa commented, blushing.

"My, you sound very hopeful and lovely. Tell me, who are you talking about?" With a wicked smile, Severus intended to empty his jug of beer.

"Astoria Silverthorn."

But upon hearing that name, the blood elf choked and spat out all the liquid in his mouth.

"Severus! Are you alright?" Tristessa asked, having narrowly escaped the shower of ale and saliva.

"W-What?!" After he stopped coughing, Severus looked at the girl in shock, raising an eyebrow, unconcerned about how much her racket was attracting the attention of the customers. "The Astoria Silverthorn? The Blackguard?"

"Y-yes... I saw her fight single-handedly against that gang of ruffians. She was wonderful," she answered, sighing dreamily and in a daze, just imagining the majestic sight of that woman cleaning her blood-dripping sword and sheathing it. "I think I'll fall for her before I do for you, Severus. Be careful not to fall behind in the fight."

Tristessa winked at him, a gesture the elf clearly didn't understand its meaning. He covered his mouth with a thoughtful hand, pondering at the girl's words.

"Silverthorn… Really?" he finally asked, as if refusing to believe it. Tristessa nodded slowly, not understanding the problem. But almost at the same time, he imitated her with that gesture of affirmation. "You know what? It might work. Come on, hurry up!"

"Huh?!" Tristessa hadn't expected that reaction from him. She saw him stand up out of the blue, down the rest of her beer mug, and grab his purchases and cane. "Where to?"

This time, the blood elf's smile stretched from ear to ear, the product of his sudden epiphany. As if he had taken another step toward success.

"To my workshop! We have to turn you into a lady so dazzling you can steal that disgraced knightess' heart!"

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